Toga Party

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Atop a long table in one corner of the bar sits a row of punch bowls containing ladles and various cocktails: from margarita to plain screwdriver. These are accompanied by several bowls of ice, some containing various bottles of beer. There are stacks of plastic glasses, paper plates, napkins, and a large pile of ivy wreaths at one end. The drinks are buffet-style at this party, so help yourself.

There are plates scattered over the residual tables in the area, some overflowing with huge bunches of grapes, others containing savory fare such as chicken legs, hunks of bread, olives, cheese or humus dips.

To try and give an impromptu impression of a Roman/Greco theme, the tables have been topped with white tablecloths and chairs and surfaces strewn with ivy. If there had been a way to fashion columns or import colonnades in twenty four hours, Indy would have tried it. But ivy will have to do on short notice. At least its not poisonous.

Comments

[slayer_fray]

"Because it's there," Mel says, pointing at the tables where the cocktails are set up, mostly Margaritas. "And hey, why not?"

[mnt_mike]

"Because it's evil distilled?"

Yet, that doesn't seem to stop him from attempting to grasp the bottle.

[slayer_fray]

He's not going to get the bottle that easily.

... except Mel's already had quite a bit and he does actaully manage to grab the bottom as she brings it down, so she passes it over, grinning.

"If it's so evil, why d'you want it so much?" she asks, prodding him in the shoulder

[mnt_mike]

"Because I'm really stupid?"

He takes another drink.

[slayer_fray]

She leans back, giveing him an appraising look, then nods.

"Yes, you are," she says, smiling warmly anyway.

The she reaches to take the bottle back.

[mnt_mike]

"Why thank you fair maiden."

He rests his head on her shoulder and sighs happily.

[slayer_fray]

"Maiden?" she scoffs, but she takes another drink and reaches up to rub his hair.

[mnt_mike]

His eyes are closed and leans into the head scratch.

"You'd prefer Mother or Crone?"

[slayer_fray]

She smiles, stroking his hair gently, and turns her head to reast her face against the top of his head.

"OK, Maiden it is, then?"

[mnt_mike]

"works for me."

Eyes still closed, he reaches up and takes hold of the hand in his hair. Mike places a kiss on the inside of her wrist, just above a pressure point.

[slayer_fray]

She closes her eyes now, and breathes deeply against his hair, letting it out with the tiniest of sighs as he kisses her wrist.

[mnt_mike]

He smiles against her skin, and then moves her hand again. This time entwining his fingers with hers, and placing them both over his heart.

[slayer_fray]

She places her hand flat against his chest, feeling the warmth and stroking his skin gently. She kisses the top of his head softly.

[mnt_mike]

Rather suddenly, he twitches.

"hey...that tickles!"

[slayer_fray]

She grins, and stops moving.

"Sorry..."

She doesn't sound that sorry.

[mnt_mike]

"Don't be. Not in the slightest.
...
Hey, what's with the stopping?"

[slayer_fray]

Ok, that's just asking for it. Her other hand reaches over suddenly and tickles him in the side.

[mnt_mike]

"ACK!"

Mike tries to put up some sort of a fight against this tactile attack, but Tequila and her agility are against him. The best he can do? Try to pin both of her arms to her side, and bring her over to his lap for safe keeping.

Not exactly a smart tactic when one is sporting a broken thigh....

[slayer_fray]

"Hey, watch your leg!" she says, and forces her way out of his grip to land in a ungraceful, unmodest heap on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.

[mnt_mike]

The pain hits him at roughly the same time as her warning. Through teeth clenched by pain, he still manages a breathless laugh at her current predicament.

"You....you okay?"

[slayer_fray]

She grabs her sides in silent laughter, and nods, struggling up. It's not really a very elegant maneuvre, and in her current state of dress, it's not modest either.

"I'm fine," she insists, taking a seat again, although in deference to his attempt, her legs are across his lap.

"How're you?" She runs her hand into his hair again, watching his face.

[mnt_mike]

"I'll live. Which is a shame, because I could've died happy after the show I just got."

Mike leans over for the bottle of tequila, and mutters something about self administered sedatives.

[slayer_fray]

She lets him take a drink, then reaches to confiscate it.

"Butcha haven't been to Disneyland yet," she points out.

[mnt_mike]

Ah the ever famous hard alcohol flavor removal face. He does it so well.

"You can't miss what you've never known....and it was a very nice show."

He lift up the sheet to get a better look at his leg, and appears to be scolding it with telepathy.

[slayer_fray]

As her legs are currently on top of the sheet, she has to lift them to let him at the leg, but she swigs from the bottle without any distaste. and, depositing the bottle on the floor, leans forward to put her arm around him.

"Yeah, but who's gonna take me?"