milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Logan. Bar. Coffee.

He went home recently. Didn't much like it, so he came back. Things are chaos at the Casablancas house and in Neptune in general, and normally Logan would be thrilled, but his playmate's too busy for him at the moment, and Veronica and Duncan are still super-lovey.

Miliways is a better place to be at the moment.

He's pleased to be here, and looking for a chat.

((OOC: On way to cafe for homeworking, but will be online most of the night.))

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Amy cannot quite approve of cheating. But she picks up on the playfulness and decides to hope that he is kidding.

"I never did master the minuet," she says. "It's supposed to take three years, and Senor Alejandro gave up on me at five."

She knows all the steps, she just never mastered them.

"Pearl mastered it in two, of course."

"Can you do it without causing great injury to anyone?" Logan asks. "I never could. Someone always went home with a bruise. Usually it was me."

"Pearl's an older sister, I take it?"

"Oh, yes. I know it, I just never mastered it. And Pearl is my youngest older sister."

Hands down, her least favorite.

"Diamond, Opal, Emerald, Sapphire, Crystal, and Pearl. My mother had a theme for our names."

Pause.

"How exactly did you get bruised in a dance lesson?"

Logan winces. "Ouch. And you are?"

"It's a special skill," Logan says. "I stepped on my partner's foot, cursed, and got called out by the teacher and kicked by my partner. The lessons stopped soon after that." He smirks.

"Amethyst."

A pause.

"Amethyst Alexandra Augusta Araminta Adelaide Aurelia Anne."

Another pause.

"So you didn't get bruised by the actual dancing, then."

Logan's eyes widen. "That's just cruel," he says. "To name a poor defenseless baby something longer than she is."

Logan laughs. "No. Might have been less embarrassing if I had, really. Mom would have been less angry, that's for sure."

Amy laughs. "Really, I can forgive them for everything but the 'Araminta.'"

Could be worse. Pearl got Perpetua.

"That makes more sense, though I'm sorry you had a partner who kicked you. It's hardly proper deportment."

"And it shortens so nicely into Amy," Logan says, grinning. "Really, if you had 'pearl' you'd be stuck with it, and it wouldn't suit you so well."

"Caitlin never much cared about propriety," he says ruefully. "Not then, not ever. And so now, I don't dance."

"Thank you," she says, smiling. "I've always liked 'Amy.'"

"Maybe you'll change your mind someday," she says. She's quite fond of dancing. "I don't think most girls kick their dance partners."

"It's a cute name for a cute girl," he says lightly.

"Maybe. Only if I can find someone who doesn't think my shins have bulls-eyes on them."

Amy blushes. "Thank you," she says, again, and her tone is just ever so slightly uncomfortable.

"You're welcome," he says, scritching Simon Perryvall again. The pie crumbs are gone, alas.

Thank goodness for squirrel diversions!

Simon Perryvall hops only Logan's sleeve.

"I think he likes you," Amy says, tone carefully light and casual.

Logan grins. "Glad of that. I'd hate to have a cranky squirrel on my hands. Or my arm, as the case may be."

The squirrel chatters at him, runs up to his shoulder and starts nibbling on Logan's hair. "Hey!" he says. "That tickles."

"Simon Perryvall, that will do," she says, sternly. "I'm sorry," she adds to Logan. I thought I had finally taught him not to eat odd things."

Simon Perryvall chatters indignantly and tries to hide inside Logan's collar.

Logan scoops the squirrel out and eyes him carefully. "I am not a tree," he says. "Nor am I some sort of bed. You're very charming, but I don't think I'd like being your home. Don't think Amy'd much like it if you left, either."

He hands the wayward squirrel back.

"I am sorry," she says, taking Simon Perryvall from him. "He is still learning."

She looks at the tiny grey squirrel. "Behave," she says, and then tucks him into her apron pocket, where he promptly falls asleep.

"It's okay," Logan says gravely. "The transition from acorn to squirrel to pet is probably very trying."

"No doubt," she agrees, though truthfully she thinks of Simon Perryvall as more of a friend than a pet.

She catches sight of the clock. "Oh, it's late. I should probably go. But thank you, for a lovely conversation."

"Sure," Logan says. "It's been fun. Thanks for introducing your buddy there."

She smiles at him. "Good night, Logan. I hope I'll see you soon."

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