milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When Parker Lee sets out to plan a party, she doesn’t do it by halves. Especially when it’s going to be for one of her best friends. Meg’s engagement is going to be celebrated in style if she has anything to say about it.

And so her table looks like the table of a woman who is planning to invade a small country by way of Better Homes & Gardens. There are pictures pulled from magazines and neat lists and notes on legal pad paper. Possible menus, color schemes, decoration options, cupcake flavors. Grid drawings of the best possible layouts for the tents (now that it’s spring, it makes no sense not to have it out by the lake). Lists of possible activities, music selections, the pros and cons of balloons, and lighting options if things go late.

She’s having fun.

She’s also filling up the table top, and one accidental bump of her elbow makes her glass of iced tea slosh and wobble. Parker grabs it in time to keep it from going over, but her array of highlighters roll off into the floor.

“Crap.”

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"What are you doing there?" Scorpius asks, slightly amused as he collects the fallen highlighters with some helpful magic.

"It must be nice, having magic," Parker says with a smile, watching as her highlighters are retrieved.

Then again, she manages to accomplish quite a bit without it.

"My friend, Meg, is engaged. I'm planning a party for her."

"Oh, right. So you are."

He steps nearer to glance at all she's accomplished so far. He picks at one of the pictures pulled from a magazine.

"You've ...got visual aids, even."

"It helps. You know."

Parker sits back a bit and waves her hands over the mass of papers like a person about to perform a magic trick.

"To get the overall feel of how it will turn out."

She grins at him.

"It's a girl thing."

"I know," he says, returning the grin. "You're, er, reminding me of my mum, actually. When she's got a project. And a current project of hers is of trying to get me interested in a property so she's already sent me all sorts of photographs."

He shrugs, nearly rolling his eyes.

Mothers.

"What's the verdict on balloons?"

He's staring down at the pros-and-cons list.

"Honestly? I'm thinking they scream 'birthday' a little too loudly. I'm thinking of just going with the streamers. And paper lanterns. Same sort of effect, but a little more grown-up. You know?"

Largish colorful round things, with the added benefit of providing light.

Parker pulls a skeptical face.

"Your mother is trying to interest you in a property?"

Who attempts to bond with a teenage son with real estate?

"For after Hogwarts," he attempts to explain. "As an investment. Or for, er, future purposes. For a family."

He wrinkles his nose, and shakes his head.

"Anyway. You could always hire a bundle of fairies. They're popular enough for parties. Not as entertainment, but for decoration."

"She's trying to move you out right after graduation?"

Weird, from Parker's perspective. (Her parents had barely let her leave to go to college.) She can't say that she thinks it's that horrible an idea. Better than tightening the apron strings, anyway.

Parker raises her eyebrows.

"Hire fairies? How does that work?"

Because it conjures up some weird mental images.

"I don't know; I've never actually hired any, but I've seen them used loads of times before."

He can always find out, if she's interested.

Then, he frowns.

"I don't - I don't think she's trying to be rid of me. It's what her family does. They manage properties. And a few properties have been kept in the family. For the children."

"Well, of course she wouldn't want to get rid of you. Who would?"

"It's sort of more of a symbolic thing?"

Scorpius merely shrugs, and quickly brings the subject back to the party.

He picks up the grid of tents.

"Is this how you want to have it look? Is this supposed to be Milliways?"

The highlighter that gets the furthest rolls to a stopping point right before a pair of very shiny, designer shoes. And a pair of golden eyes looking down at the glaring pink. A layer of memory. A flicker of Alice's future becoming present. She'd seen this, though not what it might lead to exactly.

He leaned down and picked it up. "I believe this is yours."

Edited 2011-06-04 01:31 (UTC)

"Oh, hey. Yeah, thanks. Don't mind me. I'm just having a klutz moment over here."

Parker grins and reaches out for the highlighter.

At the sight of who has rescued it, though, she frowns a little, cocking her head. This is someone that she's pretty sure she's seen around, even if they haven't officially met.

There was a baseball game. And a prom.

"Hey.....are you one of Alice's brothers? The Alice who put together the prom?"

Also, someone who knows a whole lot more about her.

"We organized it jointly." Beat. "If it was more her idea."

And, well, she was the only one to get away with dumping glitter on him.

"I thought I had seen you around."

Parker offers him a friendly smile.

"I'm Parker. It's nice to meet you."

Formally, and all.

"Edward." Who is grateful he doesn't have to shake hands. If the edge he has with that habit is far less president here. But the near century old protectiveness of secrets will stay forever.

He tilted his head, the affect of looking like he's trying to remember remember something far back -- that he has no need to question, except for the game, for the necessity of straight lines for other people.

"You were one of Meg's friends, right?" The formal edge is not an act though.

"Meg Ford? Yeah, actually. I'm one of her friends."

It's like a theme for the evening.

"It's funny, isn't it? It's like playing Six Degrees of Milliways Separation here sometimes. Who knows who."

"The endless intricacies of how it brings people together."

"Pretty cool, isn't it?"

Parker Lee. Ever the people person. (Even when it comes to people who aren't strictly ordinary people.)

She smiles brightly.

"Well, that's great. If you know Meg, you'll definitely have to come to the party."

She nods at the mass of plans on her table.

"Party." It's more statement, but there's an air of question to the end of the word.

Beat. As though working it out. "For her engagement?"

Alice would be impressed with her table.

Parker nods.

"That's right."

"I mean, it's a big deal. Seems only right to celebrate it. Even if Alain can't come, himself."

She's working on ways to make Meg's finance be included, even if he won't be able to attend himself.

"And Meg has a lot of friends here. I'm sure there are plenty of people who'd want to come. Wish her well. All that."

"They've had a hard year," Edward agreed, quietly. "One very worthy of celebrating the good moments."

"Yeah. You can't let the bad stuff overshadow the good moments."

That way lies madness, angst, and brooding.

"And I intend for this to be one great big good moment," she adds, looking down at her plans again.

"It's shaping up to be a job of work. But it'll be worth it."

Things done for friends always are.

"What do you have so far?" There's a calm to this question most men don't have. But most men haven't lived with Alice and Rosalie. Asking the question is always easier than having to wait for them to have an opening.

He's been conditioned well, this one.

Parker pats an empty chair as she sorts, one handed, through her papers.

"Well, I was thinking out by the lake, under tents. Like, shade tents, not circus tents. One for food. One for tables where people can eat. One for dancing -- I think I can get a portable dance floor. It'll just have to be taken out and set up."

"By yourself." He looks very faintly amused.

She's quite small for that kind of task.

Parker shrugs.

"It would take me a while, but I could probably do it."

Oh, Edward. Don't let the packaging fool you.

On the other hand....

"Hey. You're, like, excessively strong, right?"

There's no pulling back. He doesn't startle away. He simply goes still at the reference. The kind of still humans can't do. The kind of still marble statues would love to imitate. Golden eyes focused on her in a rather empty, weighing fashion.

Parker eyes him.

"And I bet you're a bitch to play poker against."

She sounds amused.

"More than you know."

But games tended to annoy him mostly. Having to pretend for too long he doesn't know all their cards, all their decisions, and game plans. He'd have to let people win he could beat. Or risk the truth.

Only Alice could keep him on his toes. Sometimes.

"You've definitely got the face for it."

He'd be a good poker player or politician. One or the other.

But she's getting off topic.

"But I'm right about that, right? You have super strength, more or less?"

"I'm just thinking. Tents. Dance floor. You're probably right. It would make sense to have some help..."

Hey, it was kind of his idea.

Setting things up? At a normal pace? Or at his own?
Does he even want to? But. It's for Meg.

Little Miss Meg Ford from Canada.

"You'll need a table for gifts, as well. Given this place."

Parker grins. Got him.

"Already on my list. Maybe with its own little tent to keep things from looking cluttered."

"And I'm thinking a cloth banner. That people can write messages on. That she can take home with her."

Parker raises an eyebrow at him.

"So, just to confirm, you're in?"

He considers it, almost begrudgingly.

Standing out here is still not something he does much of.

But then he nods, with a glance that is maybe not entirely unknown, when his face and his words convey the same, not entirely unknown sentiment of the entire table. "It is for Meg, after all."

Meg who has done more for him and by him in his time here than anyone else.

Parker rubs her hands together.

"Eeeexcellent."

The party workload has just gotten a lot more manageable.

"This is going to be great. I can't wait to see Meg's face. I mean, it's not a surprise. She knows I'm throwing her a party. But she won't see the finished product until the day of."

"When is it?" Proper questions and all.

Details are not always things people focus on.

"A week from Saturday. I still need to post the invitation. It'll be open to anyone who wants to come."

"But there will be plenty of time for set-up."

"Hey, what do you think about balloons? Too birthday?"

Yes. Too birthday. Yes. Too gaudy.

But, also. "I think she'd like them."

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