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Cafeteria | Afternoon | Thursday | November 25

It was Thanksgiving Day. It was time for parades, football and food. Currently, Alex was leaning against one of the walls in the kitchen, watching the catering company set up for dinner. There was a shitload of food and his stomach growled just watching.

It was good to be president. He got to delegate everything.

When one of the caterers stepped forward and thrust a plastic wrapped garment bag in his hand, Alex frowned.

"What?"

"Outfits for the dinner," the caterer said. "The contract states that we make and you serve the food. No fulfillment of the contract, no food."

Confused, Alex unzipped the bag and peeked inside. The costume was not cool at all.

"Are you serious?" Alex asked, glaring. "No way!"

"No costumes," the caterer said, already signaling his workers to get ready to package the food up, "no food."

Alex continued glaring at the caterer and the costume. He hated his life.

[OCD is up and this is posted early for SP, of course!]

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"Happy we're-calling-it-an-anniversary Thanksgiving," Kennedy said as she dropped into the adjacent seat with her own frighteningly loaded plate. "Which is one more totally awesome thing to be thankful for, right?"

"I think it's at the top of my list," Tara smiled, eying the plate. "Also? I'm thankful you got that from the buffet to here without tripping."

"Lots of practice," declared Kennedy, leaning over to kiss her. "There was still a scary moment there halfway back to the table, but the crisis was averted."

Tara returned the kiss, aware she probably tasted a bit like gravy. Oh, well, at least it was yummy gravy.

"See?" she said, when she pulled back. "We totally can have the perfect Thanksgiving-slash-anniversary. And we have another three days off, too."

"It's almost like we planned it that way," Kennedy teased. "To maximize time for celebrating everything. Constance called, by the way, and said to say hi, and she's thankful you keep me from being so much of a pain in her ass."

Which hadn't been exactly how Constance had phrased it, of course.

"Awww," Tara said, a bit giddy at being remembered. "Say hi from me next time you talk to her. Did you tell her that keeping you less annoying was kind of in my job description?"

"Will do-- I'm annoying?" Kennedy asked, laughing; she wasn't affronted by it, just amused. "The way she said it, I'm pretty sure she knows. And probably thinks you deserve to be compensated really well for the job. Oh, she said she hopes you're doing okay, too... and that you gave me hell for running off to get in trouble again."

"Not that annoying!" Tara clarified. "N-no more so than I am. And, uh ... do you think you deserved to be given hell? 'Cause I kind of like that you like going off to help people."

"If you don't yell at me for it, I won't tell her," Kennedy promised, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on Tara's knee. "It was worth it. Also? You are so not even close to annoying."

"I swear I would not curl up and die if you let me criticize myself once in a while," Tara said, squeezing the hand on her knee. "Everybody's annoying sometimes. Me included."

"And," she added, "We can totally pretend I yelled at you exactly the right amount."

"You haven't annoyed me yet," replied Kennedy, whose assessment was based entirely on that rather unscientific measurement. "And I'm not so down with anybody criticizing you, not even you."

She scooted her chair a little closer and leaned in. "It's a protective kinda thing. That whole thing where I love you, so I can't really help it."

"I love you too," Tara said, and didn't add but I can let you call yourself a pain in the ass without arguing with you because I don't think you're that fragile, which you still seem to think I am, which is both endearing and a little worrisome. It was, after all, both Thanksgiving and their sort-of anniversary.

She took another bite of green beans again. "Did Constance have anything else to say?"

...it'd probably come up again, anyway, on a non-celebratory sort of day.

"Not really," Kennedy-- blissfully unaware of the inherent problem with her attitude there-- replied. (Actually Constance had mentioned something about a meteor crashing near Sunnydale, but Kennedy didn't think that was anything significant and had disregarded it.) "Mostly just hi and happy Thanksgiving. It is a good one... right?"

"You're here, I'm here, there's way more yummy food than we could eat, and people are in funny clothes," Tara answered, if a bit tentatively. She was surprised by the question. "So ... yes? Unless you're missing Jañe too much."

"I do miss her," Kennedy admitted, "but I'm good where I am. So. Best Thanksgiving I can remember... was kinda thinking you missed your mom, though."

"Yeah, well..." Tara did, and she couldn't hide that with her half-hearted shrug. "She called this morning," she said, trying to sound more optimistic than she was. "She sounded like things are okay for her, so that's good? And it's way better I'm here than there."

"Aw, babe..." Kennedy wasn't sure what to say to that, and, at a loss, squeezed Tara's knee again. "It's good that things are okay, though. Wish I'd thought to ask you to tell her hi from me."

She smiled slightly. "And, y'know, thanks from me too. Next time you talk to her?"

Re: Dinner [Thanksgiving 2010]

life_inshadow - 2010-11-26 03:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Dinner [Thanksgiving 2010]

brat-intraining.livejournal.com - 2010-11-26 03:35 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Dinner [Thanksgiving 2010]

life_inshadow - 2010-11-26 03:43 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Dinner [Thanksgiving 2010]

brat-intraining.livejournal.com - 2010-11-26 04:57 (UTC) - Expand

Don't look now, Kennedy, but there's something headed your way.

Hello, potato gloop down her shirt collar!

Kennedy yelped and turned around, scanning the cafeteria for the likely culprit even though she had a pretty good idea of who it was.

She was going to behave, she wasn't going to...

Fling a brussels sprout Bobby's way. Totally didn't just happen. Really.

Oh yes, that was a completely imaginary brussels sprout that bopped Bobby on the head.

And, naturally, was going to earn a return-fire of equally imaginary cranberries in sauce.

Which, luckily, mostly dissipated before they hit, but Kennedy's shirt was going to be a bit sticky anyway.

She rolled her eyes playfully and totally didn't retaliate with some stuffing or anything like that. Nope.

Well, maybe the stuffing would be good conditioner for his hair?

Orrrrr maybe he was going to grab a straw and start blowing peas in Kennedy's direction.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" Kennedy yelled, flailing her hands in a futile attempt to fend off the peas. "Dammit, Boy Scout!"

"What?" Bobby grinned at her. "Food fights are an important part of the holiday." At least, insofar as the way Bobby celebrated it, at any rate.

"Oh, yeah? Damn," Kennedy drawled with a slow, rapidly-turning-evil grin, "I've been missing out."

Not that she hadn't been severely tempted to try it the several Thanksgivings before Fandom, just to annoy her stepmother, but soooooooo not worth that pain in the ass.

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