fandomhigh | Festivus in July, Fandom High front lawn, Friday afternoon

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!event: friday events

Festivus in July, Fandom High front lawn, Friday afternoon

Sometime during morning workshops, when no one was paying nearly enough attention except those concerned, the Fandom High schoolgrounds had filled with snow.

For the record, "those concerned" meant Rory Gilmore and several dozen snow cone distributors from the mainland. But who wants to ruin the illusion? Students who were curious might assume that it was simply a Festivus in July miracle, or some such.

In the middle of the lawn stood a bare, aluminum pole. Festivus tradition, you know.

[Yes, the schoolgrounds have snow. I'm weathermodding and saying it's cool enough today through this evening for it to stick, and it'll melt overnight. And yes, we're having Festivus in July. For those not in the know, here is a handy Wiki link! ~~Please wait for OCD.~~ Up, yay!]

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"I doubt the day of atonement is something that's awfully festive either," Peter pointed out. "But air your grievance? And if it's something I can help with, I shall do so."

"Well no," Willow admitted. "It's only festive in comparison to you guys who go for 40 days, which proves that even in sin you people pay retail. Anyway, yes. I have a grievance and it is a very serious one. I need your help."

Her expression? Not at all serious.

Peter laughed at her analogy and relaxed enough to smile broadly. "I shall do my utmost for you."

"Good, because my grievance is great," Willow said. She tried to look woeful and sad. "It's horrible. And I know for a fact that you are the only one who can help me."

Bowing formally, Peter tried to prevent his lips from quirking. "I am at your service, my lady. Shall I slay dragons? Find the hair of a winged horse?"

Willow tried her best not to grin back at him, but oh was this a wasted effort. Her eyes were dancing with amusement as well.

"You see," she said, at least trying to sound sad if not look it, "it's my guy. Entire sections of the day go by and, well, he doesn't kiss me. It's awful. Horrible. Tragic."

Peter considered the problem. "Something really ought to be done about this," he agreed, seriously. "I can't imagine what he's thinking. Obviously he's an idiot."

"Imagine what it's like for me," Willow said. "Hours and hours of lonely lips. It's awful. They cry. Or they would if they have eyes, and for the record I'm very pleased that they don't. But metaphorically the tears are nonstop."

"We can't have that," Peter said solemnly. "May I try to make up for it?"

"I truly believe you can," Willow replied, nudging him with her shoulder.

Peter moved closer to her then leaned in to kiss her. There may have been an attempt to dip if she was amenable to it.

That got a happily surprised squeak out of her. She held on, going for the dip, and kissing him in return.

Paying no attention to the fact that they were in public, Peter kissed her thoroughly. Because that was what holidays were for in his hastily formed opinion. Still holding her in the dip, he grinned, "is that a start?"

Willow giggled, holding tight so she wouldn't fall - because obviously Peter was oh so likely to drop her. Ahem.

"It's a good start. I approve. I am less grieved already."

Peter kissed her again before pulling her up into a hug. "I see I must pay more attention to my duty then."

"Oh yes," Willow said, somehow managing to turn sitting up into sitting in Peter's lap. "You wouldn't want me to have a grievance again. It'd be awful."

"I shall try to make extra sure that you don't even come close to having a grievence," Peter said. "I should worry about the possibility of crying lips too much."

"And then you'll be up all night," Willow said. "Because really it's a mental image that doesn't lend itself to lots of shut eye."

"No, it's really not," Peter said. "In fact, I think I may need more gingerbread to make it go away. Would you like anything?"

"I've been enjoying the latkes and donuts," said the girl who'd eaten not much besides those yet today.

"You've claimed Festivus as the second holiday of the oil, hmm?" Peter said with a grin,

"I share my holiday of oil with all," Willow replied, grinning back. "I'm not greedy. Not about that anyway."

"Those of us who aren't God's Chosen are certainly appreciative," Peter said. "Though I think that does remind me of a grievance."

"Oh?" Willow asked, looking curious.

"Well, without Christmas decorations, there isn't any mistletoe," Peter said sadly. "This truly is very sad."

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