Luke's, Monday

[vdistinctive]

The Luke's staff was having a lot of fun with the mistletoe today. All the hot young things who worked the dining room were cheerfully giving each other kisses, all across the scale of platonic to romantic to sexy, and the kitchen staff wasn't doing half-bad, either. In fact, the dishwasher was apparently the one to catch under the mistletoe this year, with the little plants doing loops to round people up and herd them over to him. There was a small line formed when Eliot came out of his office to check on the lunch rush, but when three of the plants started making a beeline for him, the dishwasher reached up and plucked them out of the air.

"Nah, he's basically married. Like, twice over. Leave him be."

That was . . . a surprisingly rational response from his kitchen staff. Eliot nodded his thanks as he went to check on the stock in dry storage.

"He's way less fun now that he doesn't flinch every time you say the 'm' word," the busboy told the cook. "We're going to have to find new ways to taunt him."

Ah. There it was.

Today's specials
Ambrosia salad
Butter-fried oysters
Double-chocolate mocha brownies

Luke's was open and ocd free.

Devil's Nest, Monday Evening

[arboreal_priestess]

"No."

This was delivered flatly to the mistletoe that was hovering around Verity tonight, sometimes zipping over to Tiny instead. Verity had been batting that thing away all evening, like a particularly obnoxious mosquito. "You're worse than the mice and their Holy Feast of I Swear, Daddy, I'll Kiss the Next Man That Walks Through That Door." Tiny perked up. "Yes, that's a real thing and no it's not tonight and no you're never finding out where I live, so it doesn't matter anyway."

Verity was going to turn her back on both Tiny and the mistletoe and continue to take inventory of the bottles of alcohol behind the bar. Hopefully when she turned around again, one or both would be gone.