tampered | Log: Ongoing

When; Oct 28, evening
Rating; PG-13 for maybe language?

Characters; Harry Dresden

dresden4hire, and Vivian Gandilon

f_lilredridinhd[Unknown site tag]
Summary; Vivian comes to visit Harry after he stood her up because he was dead
Log;

It was the second shower Harry had taken today. Not that he had gotten particularly dirty today, he had just enjoyed it that much. After that last curse and how much he had been on the run he hadn't really had time for cleaning up. So he was making up for it now. Two showers a day minimum for the next five days. That and lots of lots of sleep.

He took his time drying off, also enjoying the clean, thick towels. He didn't plan on going anywhere for the evening, just sitting around the flat reading, but he still dressed in something a bit nicer than his sweats and t-shirt that he would lounge around in back home. Easy going or not, he felt awkward wearing things like that around the Princess. You don't wear sweatpants around beautiful princesses, no matter how comfy they were.

Despite the chaos of the last week, the apartment was relatively quite. For such a large group of people living together, everyone was rather well behaved. Jolly was energetic but he never went about causing a ruckus or anything like that. All in all a good night to sit down and read the copy of his favorite dime store detective novel he had found. He had just sat down when someone knocked on the door. With a sigh Harry set the book down and went over to the door. Maybe some company would be the perfect thing for tonight. It might be nice to chat with people about something other than rescue parties.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Armed with small basket and Anita’s promise, Vivian had anxiously long awaited this visit, but as she double-checked the address, her hands mangled with the piece of paper. The young woman hovered on the doorstep, hesitant to knock, uncertain what state and humor she would find the newly revived wizard in. With the swelling moon, she’d had her reasons for staying away for days. Beyond the heightened senses, Vivian didn’t think she could handle a resurrection of new death when initial death had been difficult enough.

Swallowing hard, Vivian shook off the tentativeness cooling her heels. It was this place. This City. It had a way of setting a person off their mark. But more than that, the City had reminded the young woman just how easily the world, curse or not, could snuff out those she relied on the most.

She knocked. As the occupant stirred, a strange smile crept across her lips. A memory. A scent half remembered, a variety of chilled baked goods tucked away in the covered basket made her chuckle in spite of herself.

Harry was going to love these.

Harry opened the door and wasn't quite sure how he felt about the person he saw standing there. On one hand, a beautiful young woman with a basket of cream puffs was standing there. On the other hand, it was a beautiful young woman he had stood up because he had gotten himself stupidly killed. She was smiling though, so that was a good start.

"Vivian," he said, planning on following that up with some sort of apology and explanation that would make him look like less of a jerk. Nothing came though and for a split second an awful silence hung in the air. For a moment he was reminded of waking up in that box... surrounded by absolute silence.

"Hell's bells Vivian, I'm sorry for not being there that night," he finally said, unsure of what else he could say. "And that was a really bad way to stand you up. If there was anything I could have done different..."

Sweet Harvest Moon, Vivian didn't want to talk about that. Like a boogeyman hiding the dark-- all the oddities and morbidity, full battery of dark, dangerous stuff rational person wanted to drag up like a dead man’s corpse-– the curses and her part, or rather her negligence, in that latest that had attributed to Harry’s death, so Vivian avoided it. It was an easy task. A simple smile and shrug, "Shit happens," an explanation became a verbal talisman to ward off all ills.

All's forgiven? Forever and ever amen.

Slyly dangling the loaded wicker basket of untold treats to tantalize the revived bachelor, "I figure you must be hungry," the young blond smirked, "So I thought that maybe we could ring in Halloween early? Question is: Chocolate or vanilla?"

Harry breathed a visible sigh of relief when Vivian seemed to brush off the fact that he had stood her up because he was dead. It really was a pleasant change of pace from all of the lectures he had gotten over that. Not that he hadn't deserved every one of the lectures, but it was nice not to get one for a change. Not only that, but she came bearing baked goods of some sort. Vivian was surely some sort of goddess.

"I don't know if I'm hungry, but those look delicious," he said, smiling broadly at her. He wondered if it would be too cliche to make a little Red Riding Hood joke. It probably would be. "As for which flavor... both please?"

"I should hope so," quips the Wolf at the door, only vaguely aware her chosen attire, specifically red hoodie and denim jeans, emanated a subtle impression of a modern-day Red Riding Hood. A Wolf in sheep's clothing, she thought. How she loved this holiday.

And tipping her head sideward sent her blond tresses slid out from under the red hood cascading across shoulder, while steadying the basket against herself, she gently checked the protective encased the baked goods. Good, they hadn’t shifted in transport. Vivian had been worried that the invigorating run and climb across the autumn-kissed urban landscape had damaged the fresh treats. After all, that last drop had been a doozey.

"All the better to have coffee and tea with," she eased. After securing cloth across the mouth of the basket, the young woman waited expectantly, lingering on the doorstep for a few moments more. But with the fall chill tinting her cheeks a rosy hue, it wasn’t long before she breathlessly prompted the bachelor. "So you going to invite me in or should I have brought picnic blankets?"

A smile quirked at the corner of Harry's mouth as his reply came to his lips. "I'm just trying to decide which wolf cliche to use. Should I say I'm letting you in so you don't huff and puff and blow my house down? Or... okay, why don't you come in..."

Harry moved aside and opened the door wider, ushering her in. He was glad that he lived with so many people, if for no other reason than it forced them all to be rather clean. His own place only looked this good because of the cleaning faeries.

"None of the others are here right now, so it's just us," Harry explained before realizing how that might sound. Instead of apologizing for it though he just kept quiet about it. There was always the hope that Vivian hadn't realized how that could be taken the wrong way.

"Why, Mr. Dresden, I’d say I'm insulted," she crooned feigned indignation, "But I wouldn’t. I’d never waste my breath." Hips swaying in a comfortable stroll and a casual smile, Vivian eased herself inside his humble abode. It was nice, definitely a mishmash of motley tastes, she thought, but she didn’t think he lived alone. Whether out of want or necessity, few here did.

Watching the telltale signs a mental backpedal at this double entente, the blond arches her eyebrow and cocks her head in a sideward smile. Flattered really. Less than a minute and he was tripping all over his tongue already.

"Really now? Who's being the wolf, Mr. Dresden?" She knowingly remarks, while hands busily smooth down the table cloth then demurely placing two place settings on the nearest coffee table, before regarding him again.

"You look as though I was going to eat you alive for a simple slip of the tongue." She patted the basket. "I've tastier things in store, so tell me you've the perfect drink to accompany them? ...Coffee, tea?"

"I was a wolf for a while," Harry said, trying not to let her crooning and lithe movements get to his head. Well, they were already in his head, he just needed to make sure they didn't get anywhere else. "But it didn't stick. And actually, most of the wolves or werewolves I know are really great... so if by being a wolf you mean I run around with my friends and fight bridge trolls and stuff... anyways, I'm rambling."

Harry eyed the basket once more at her mention of tastier things. It wasn't so much that he was starved for home cooking... but how often did you get home made sweets and the like?

"We've got coffee and tea," Harry told her. "Although I would suggest the tea, since we don't have a coffee maker, it generally comes out better. Still working on coffee."

Regardless of what she wanted, they were going to need hot water, so Harry stepped into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil and got out two mugs.

Log: Ongoing

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