milliways_bar | (no subject)

"-don't think it's unreasonable," Snow White said, edging through the doorway, eyes only on the man behind her at first.

She'd only turned her head to catch the first flash of noise and movement in a room that was not The Conservatory, when her posture shifted quick as lightning. The straighten of her back, the broaden of her shoulders, the way even her the hold of her fingers might make a weapon of the object in her hand (a delicate pearlescent comb, the most recent of congratulatory gifts she felt compelled to use).

Realization and recognition of Milliways struck the next second, with a soft, "Oh," before she had turned her attention back to him. Surprised seriousness clearing as completely as a cloud having passed across the path of the sun.

Her eyebrows raised, standing in the doorway, almost leaning against the door, with a playfully teasing smile having taken back her mouth. "I've already agreed to let the fairies do something to my hair that makes it look like a bedecked pastry, I should be allowed to pass on the train."

"I'm sure you'll be beautiful," the man beside her said, his gaze fond and unwavering as his fingertips lightly brushed against the underside of her arm, cradling her elbow as they lingered in the doorway. He drew her close against him, pressing a kiss to her hairline.

"Pastry or otherwise." Prince Charming's smile remained long after he pulled back to gaze at his bride-to-be.

Snow's head ducked, first, and then cocked to one side. As if to point out compliments and kisses did not get you anywhere with this discussion, but her eyes had lightened, as her cheeks pinked, and her smile had become far more fair. "You're only saying that because no one has tried to make you wear an intricately beaded, ten foot, train yet."

Two pups, Two muns, Have fun!

Tiny Tags: Snow White & Prince Charming

[Also, an important Disclaimer]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And I am James," he adds, by way of introduction, nodding his head in greeting at the woman. He doesn't expect Snow to relate to him every trip she's ever taken to Milliways - largely because, he suspects, of occurrences like these, where time is inconsistent and often leads to these instances of confusion and conflicting timelines.

"You said you were fixing something," he says, inquiring curiously. "What is up there that requires mending?"

"Good to meetcha. Again for the first time, and all that." Later, she'll boggle that it's not just someone who looks like Mary Margaret, its Snow White, and try to figure out if that means nothing or something. Either way, there's not much point in worrying about it now, and it could just be Milliways being weird.
Like with crossing the streams time-wise.
In response to James's question, she holds up the speaker casing. "Sound system. We had some chaos a couple months ago, and the speakers took a beating. I'm almost done."
If they haven't encountered recorded music before now, she can fill that in next. Meanwhile, she sets the speaker to rights and gets out of the rafters - her dismount onto a table is far from graceful, though she's better than when she started working on the sound system.

It's a black box. Even for appraising the landing, and part of her mouth widening before she tries to tamp it down again. It's still a strange black box. "What is a speaker?"

Sound system, James mouths, sharing a confused look with Snow.

Instead, he takes a step back to give the girl enough room to effectively dismount, looking at her expectantly.

"Okay, you haven't heard from recorded music yet. The stereo translates the recordings into intelligible sound, and the speakers amplify it enough that you can actually hear it. The stereo weathered the storm well enough, but the rafters took a major beating, and so did the speakers."
Seriously, she bows down before whoever had it installed in the first place; they did an amazing job.

Snow isn't really positive what most of anything she just said meant. Except that it does strike a cord, from a completely different time and place. One she hasn't really had much reason to think about, again.

"Like the jukebox?" That had been a fun day.

She'd turned rather pink a few times during all that.