fandomhigh | Fandom Library, Wednesday, December 11th

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Fandom Library, Wednesday, December 11th

Today was a little rowdier in the library than Arden really would have liked, but while sentient balls of sugar were cute, they were not good for library books. So she was spending her shift chasing the sugar balls - who seemed to assume this was some kind of fun game - with a dustpan and broom to try to gently herd them into the dustpan where she could then dispose of them in the hallway.

Which, okay yes, she could see how they might consider that a fun game, rolling back inside any time the library doors were opened so they could play again.

At least she never lacked for cardio around here.

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Look who was back to being human(-shaped)! And carrying a plate wrapped in tinfoil.

"I brought cookies!" Gray announced, and then admitted, "Raiden made the cookies." Because no one was trusting this guy right here around an oven.

"Oh, I figured you'd meant that you brought cookies Raiden had made," Arden assured him, giving a sugar ball a gentle whack into the dustpan. "I've, you know, had one conversation with you ever, even." She grinned at him. "Look at who is all person-shaped again."

Gray struck a little pose, then broke from it and explained, "I was turned back when I woke up at like....two o'clock this morning." Because circadian rhythms were for people without supernatural sleep disorders. "Thanks for looking after me, especially since it seems like Raiden couldn't have." So weird how that happened! He slid the plate across the desk toward her and said, "Okay, so we have ginger molasses and red wine brownie cookies." Arden got a shiny nickel if she guessed where that inspiration had come from.

"...Made with the wine from the taps?" Arden asked, taking one. And then pausing before she bit into it. "All the alcohol has been cooked off, yeah?"

"...yes?" Gray, who didn't speak Kitchen, said with great hesitancy.

After a moment, with more confidence, he reported, "Raiden says yes. Or, well. There might be trace amounts left, but not enough to, like, matter. I didn't ask where the wine came from, but, I mean, probably." Free wine!

"I mean, if I was gonna get drunk off cookies, this would be the best place to do it," she said, gesturing to the currently empty library. And, sure, Gray, but they'd established he was waaaaaaay too gay to be affected. "But I'd still rather not. But, since that isn't a problem."

Ohhhh that was a good cookie.

"Raiden wouldn't give you cookies that would hurt you," Gray pointed out. "Except for in the, 'Oh, no, these cookies are so unhealthy,' kind of way, but who cares? It's Christmas."

It was December eleventh, Gray.

It had been Christmas in Gray's heart since November first, lets be real. "So what does your family do for Christmas? Like, are you all up early for presents, or....?"

And now a molasses cookie. You know, for balance.

"It depends," Gray sighed as he picked up a chocolate cookie. "Because Sloth is a butthole. So we have to sort of do things around when I'm awake. Like, my brothers might have Christmas breakfast without me, because what's the alternative? They starve until I wake up? No. But We don't open presents until everyone's awake, so that's usually kind of late in the morning, because Daman considers 4 AM a reasonable bedtime. And then we all watch Christmas movies," whether certain people wanted to or not, "and then we have Christmas dinner. It's a whole day. It's great. Do you want to come this year, or do you have other plans?" He didn't want to just assume.

"Well, it seems really unlikely that the Khans will do anything for Christmas," she said, thinking, "though I might wake up here and then head to your place for late Christmas morning."

That three hour difference was clutch. It was like time travel!

"Smart," Gray said with a nod. "Sneaky. I could text you when things are happening."

"Yeah, if you text me when you wake up, I can be there to open presents with everyone!"

A sudden pause.

"Castor and Alastair know that I can't afford like crazy expensive gifts, right?"

"Oh, they won't care," Gray assured her. "Castor will like it if it's shiny, and Alastair just looks expensive."

A beat.

"Wait, that came out wrong."

Arden was certainly laughing at him about it, that was for sure. "I'm telling Alastair you called him the wish dot com version," she teased.

"Nooooooo," Gray protested, draping himself dramatically across the desk. "Please don't!" Then he popped up and said, "No, but like...think of Alastair like a grandpa. He likes grandpa things. Okay, yes, he likes his cashmere sweaters and whatever but he also likes his books and his tea and those Werther's candies." Why, Alastair? Why?

"I mean, y'all are thousands and thousands of years old," Arden noted, trying not smirk. "I'm surprised you're all not into Werther's orginals and complaining about how our music these days is too loud."

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