'tis the season

[beathach]

Who: Hank, Raven, Charles, and Erik
Broadcast: none
Action: Corona
When: Forward-dated to after Christmas

[docking at the hotel had been something of a godsend. Originally he was going to attempt to cook himself, but with all of the restaurants at the hotel available, he opted to choose one of them instead. Likely for the best, because he wasn't the greatest cook.

He'd done his research, however, and the dinner - while nothing overly fancy - still had some traditional Christmas and Hanukkah foods - or at least, as close as they could get to them, all things considered. He tried, okay.

But it was a holiday dinner for the four of them, and that was the most important part. It was a first for their family, after all]

Comments

[axiomed]

I can be polite when I try.

[beathach]

It must be a special occasion.

[axiomed]

[ Charles looks around. ]

Well. Isn't it?

[beathach]

I'd say it is.

[axiomed]

It doesn't matter how many times we do this - it still feels unique.

[ Surprising would be another word for it. ]

[beathach]

Mm, well . . . this particular - get together is pretty unique for us. Seeing as how we've never really done it before.

[axiomed]

No. We never had the chance back home.

[beathach]

Mm, no. And it isn't as though the two of us ever did this.

[heck, he doesn't remember them even celebrating the holidays until after the school reopened]

[axiomed]

We were . . . preoccupied.

[beathach]

That's a polite way to put it.

[axiomed]

[ Idly, he finds his gaze drifting to Erik and Raven. ]

I guess that's just how we are.

[beathach]

Well . . . special occasion. And we're in public.

[he doesn't miss where Charles is looking, though]

[axiomed]

All the more reason to be polite.

[beathach]

I'll keep bickering to a minimum, then.

[axiomed]

I'm sure we'll manage, Hank.

[beathach]

We'll manage fine. We manage it in front of the students.

. . . most of the time.

[axiomed]

That's good enough for anyone.

[beathach]

I'd say so.

[axiomed]

[ Charles takes a sip of his wine. ]

Have you - [ He lets it hang, waiting for Hank. ]

[beathach]

Ah - no, not yet.

[he reaches for his own wine, taking a long sip.

New Years. He pushes towards Charles as he drinks]

[axiomed]

[ Ah. It makes sense. He shakes off his vague melancholy. ]

I'm sure it'll be fine.

[beathach]

[why are you melancholy, Charles]

You know I'm going to panic anyway.

[axiomed]

[ He's not going to say. ]

Well, yes. But the end result will be fine.

[beathach]

[Charles please]

I know. At least, logically I know.

[axiomed]

Logic has little to do with it.