iCarly: iMeet the Relatives, Chapter 1: A Polite Little Dinner
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Much as I'd like to, I don't own iCarly.
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Chapter 1: A Polite Little Dinner
Carly, Grif, and Aunt Maggie were still standing on the top of the building in downtown Seattle, with the rain pouring off of them, when Maggie's cell phone went off. She left the two lovebirds and stepped away to take the call.
Before she did, she took a look at the caller ID. Oh, no. Not yet! Not so soon!
"Carly, you're soaking wet! Here, let me…" He passed his hand over her, and she was instantly dry, clothes and all. "Okay," she said admiringly, "that's a cool trick to have!"
"Yeah, well, I do know a few." He kissed her again. It was amazing, she thought. Just moments before, she'd discovered that A.) angels were real, tangible beings, and B.) Griffin, or Gryphon, as it was correctly spelled, was one.
Her boyfriend. An angel. An honest-to-goodness freaking flying angel! Sam and Freddie were gonna go into major league shock…
That is, if they believed her in the first place.
Maggie rejoined them, an air of concern on her face. "I sincerely hope neither of you had any plans for the rest of the evening. We've all been invited out to dinner."
"Dinner?" Carly was aware that her stomach was feeling pretty empty. Dinner sounded like a good idea; just let her go home, grab some things…
Grif was looking at his aunt with an expression of dismay. "Uh, Aunt Maggie? That's your 'trouble' face." What? What did he mean by that?
Maggie nodded. "I'm afraid it is. Carly, we've been invited to Chez Lounge." She paused, and it seemed to Carly that she was just a little bit shaken. Maggie turned to Grif. "It seems your uncle Jemiah wants to meet Carly."
Carly looked at the two. "Who's Uncle Jemiah?" It might have been her imagination, but Grif looked a little more pale right now than he had a moment ago. Even when he'd contemplated Falling.
"My Uncle Jemiah is…let's just say, he's a bit of a formidable person. I'm surprised, however, at…well, at how fast this happened." He turned to Maggie. "Do…do you think we…I…should be concerned?"
Maggie's face took on a calculating look. "With Jemiah, one should always be concerned. But I doubt he'll call down fire upon the city, if that's what you're thinking, Grif."
Carly hiccupped a laugh. "Well, I should hope not!" She saw their expressions. "Uh, that was a joke, right? An angel joke?"
"Of course it was a joke! I…hopeAnyway, are the two of you ready yet?"
"Ready?" gasped Carly, still trying to disentangle the previous sentence. "I, I'm not! You don't mean right now, do you? I don't even know what to…you said the Chez Lounge? I don't think I even have clothes for a place that fancy!"
"Never mind. Here. Come over here, Carly." Maggie took Carly over a few feet away. "You get dressed," she said to Grif. "That tuxedo of yours should do nicely." She turned to Carly, turning her this way and that. "Hm. Yes. I can see it." She passed her hand over Carly's head, and Carly's clothes…changed.
They remained the same clothes, but the molecules rearranged themselves into something closer to formal evening attire, a stylish formfitting dress outfitted with numerous small, artfully arranged jewels. The dark dress was sleeveless, with a U-shaped neckline…and it looked like it cost more than the entire Shay household for a year. "I…I can't wear this!"
"Of course you can. Griffin? Are you about ready?"
"Yes, Aunt Maggie." Carly turned to see Grif attired in a black formal tuxedo, replete with cufflinks sporting what looked like real diamonds. "Sorry it took me so long. I'm not used to dressing like this." He smiled a bit sheepishly.
The trio stood there, with the storm still raging around them, yet the rain not touching any of them. Idly, Carly thought it had seemed like a lifetime ago when she'd been afraid of thunder, of lightning. But now….now something was different, something about her, something fundamental, had changed. Now she simply wasn't afraid anymore.
"Alright." And, in between one eyeblink and another, Maggie herself was splendidly attired in an outfit much like Carly's, backless and sleeveless, with long white gloves. "Well." She gave the other two a brave smile. "Let's….get this over with."
Chez Lounge had a reputation throughout Seattle, and throughout the entire northwestern area of the United States, in fact. It was by invitation only. Only the absolute upper elite ever even thought about eating there. And, like the saying went about yachts, if you had to ask how much it cost, you couldn't afford it.
The doorman looked as though he was perfectly ready and willing to toss the President of the United States out on his ear, should that individual even dare to try to cross the threshold, uninvited. His was such an intimidating look, that Carly, normally not one lacking for social courage, found herself shrinking up against Grif. See? I'm with them. "Party of three, to join Mr. Sinclair. Yes, Ms. Strider. Mr. Sinclair has secured the gold room for you."
"The-the gold room?" Maggie seemed to be taken aback. The look she shot Carly did absolutely nothing to reassure her. "Well. Let's go…join him."
The gold room was precisely what its name implied. All of its fixtures were of cast gold—not gold plated, but solid gold. The chandelier, the picture and mirror frames, every utensil in sight, and every plate and platter. Even the walls were decorated in plates and stylings of pure gold, and the tablecloth was hemmed with it. Carly couldn't help but think that this room alone probably contained more gold than the equivalent space in Fort Knox.
Seated at the table, and now rising to greet them, was a tall man of indeterminate age. Uncle Jemiah had the look of a Fortune 500 CEO, combined with the confidence of a Marine combat instructor. He had firm regular features, light grey hair, and was wearing a magnificent blacker-than-black tuxedo of his own. Over and above all, he projected an air of solidness about him. As his gaze traveled over them, Carly couldn't help but feel a little cowed by the sheer impact of his personality. This was a force of nature shaped like a man. "Margaret. Gryphon. Welcome. Come, sit." He indicated places for them. Carly noted he reserved one place right beside him, on the left.
He turned to her, the full force of his gaze practically physically pushing her back. "So. You are the young mortal who has seduced my nephew."
Er, to be continued?
