Get Ready
Acepilot
8 - * - * - 8
"Did you wrap the present?" I yell, trying to be heard over god-awful cartoons that Sean has started insisting on watching with the volume on full – or near-enough. It was okay for a while, until he learned to hide the remote.
"Of course I wrapped the present," Angelica tells me, feeling quite clearly insulted at the implication.
"Good," I return, giving up on the battle with the TV and crossing the lounge into the bedroom. She's holding mismatched earrings up in front of our dresser mirror, trying to work out, presumably, which ones suit her shoes better. I love her to death, but she has some odd ideas at times. "What did we end up getting them, in the end?"
"Pasta maker," she reminds me, settling on a pair and discarding the others back on the dresser. I quite like them, however, and decide to appropriate them for the afternoon.
"What have I told you about stealing my stuff?" she asks, aghast at my behaviour.
I roll my eyes and kiss her on the cheek. "Don't think I don't recognise that necklace you're wearing, dear."
She grins sheepishly and shrugs. "Fair call."
"Why did we get them a pasta maker, anyway?" I ask, checking my self in the mirror. "I mean, Phil can cook, sure, but can you picture either him or her havign the patience to make their own pasta?"
She shrugs. "It's a wedding gift. I mean, what did they get us, anyway?"
I have to think back. "The mirror in the lounge, didn't they?"
Angelica looks doubtful. "I thought they were the fondue set."
"I don't think Lor and Phil would be able to buy a fondue set with a straight face," I point out. "They might have gotten something for Sean's room."
"Sounds probable," she agrees, turning to look at me directly instead of in the mirror. "How do I look?"
I look her up and down. I see nothing wrong at all. "Edible."
She rolls her eyes. "Get that look off your face, Carmichael. We'll be late for this wedding."
I grin mischievously as I lean in and inhale the slight perfume she's wearing. "They'll never miss us."
"We need to get Sean ready," she points out as I kiss her softly on the neck. I can all but hear her eyeballs roll back into their sockets.
"He's ready, waiting, and watching The Horses. Come on. Five minutes."
"That's ambitious," she utters in a breathy whisper that makes my knees go weak. I start pushing her back toward the bed, her resistance weakening every step of the way. "Mess up my dress and we're going to have problems, you know."
"I know," I assure her, reaching carefully for the clasp.
"I haven't wrapped the pasta maker," she moans.
And it all comes to a screeching halt.
"Angelica..." I whine, getting up off the bed, and stomping toward the door.
"I thought you'd appreciate the honesty," she tells me.
"I'd have appreciated it more a few minutes ago," I retort. "I love you, but I swear to god I'm convinced you were put on this earth to make me nuts. Why do I put up with you?"
She gets up off the bed and follows me to the door, caging me in with an arm on either side of me, kissing the back of my neck. "Because I'm the mother of your child," she reminds me. "Because I have a high-paying job and keep you in pretty dresses. Because I look killer in heels." She wraps her arms around my waist. "Because you love me."
I sigh and lean back into her embrace. "Because I love you," I admit. "But don't think you're getting out of wrapping the pasta maker."
She huffs, mutters "Cheat," under her breath, before kissing me once more and breezing into the lounge, completely unruffled. It's so not fair that she can do that. But then, she always could.
8 - * - * - 8
This is a very short piece, I know, but it was kind of just lurking in the back of my mind. It was just a character piece, really, and fits into the Tertiaryverse with the upcoming From Here On quite nicely. Angelica and Susie are not main characters in FHO but they definitely will be around, along with little Sean.
Hope you enjoyed it. More coming very soon.