The Perk [Saturday morning]

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Dances were exhausting. That was what Celia had taken away from her first, anyway -- once she had stopped feeling so exposed in her dress, she'd had rather a lot of fun, and she'd had enough punch that she'd fallen asleep on a common room couch and woken this morning in a mess of crinolines and lopsided hair. A cursory peek in her room told her that there was a boy asleep on the floor, so it was a relatively disheveled Celia who made her way into the Perk for her morning tea.

In a reverse of last night's be-gowning, she was sleepily casting illusions at herself to dull down her appearance. The pink dress lengthened and darkened, she conjured up a coat (though it had no buttons -- she was quite tired), and a wave of her hand found a ribbon to tie her curls back. By the time she reached the Perk, she felt a little more...presentable, and less like a hungover victim of couch-sleep.

By the time she settled in at a table with a strong cup of black tea, she was feeling even more normal. Even the smell was helping.

[open, la!]

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[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Have you hit your head?" Margaret wondered, genuinely concerned. "Daddy said you overzert yourself a lot. Stop it."

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

"Overexert," Celia corrected, automatically, then looked quizzically at the girl. "And I do not, I -- wait. Wait. Are you saying I'm your mother?"

That was absurd. And impossible. For multiple reasons.

[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Yes," Margaret insisted, starting to get upset. "Mama, why don't you know me? What did I do?"

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

"You didn't do anything," Celia said in a rush, worried the girl might start crying. "I'm sorry, I just -- I don't have a daughter."

She hoped that would be explanation enough, but she wasn't especially optimistic.

[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Yes you do!" the girl insisted loudly, hitting her little hand on the table.

Celia's teacup began to shake in its saucer.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Celia froze as her cup began to shake, staring at it in horror. It wasn't the fact that the cup was shaking of its own accord, of course. It was that she wasn't doing it.

She looked from the cup to the girl across the table, then reached a hand out vaguely toward the cup. It stilled, but Celia's eyes narrowed.

"What's your name?" she asked, warily. "I'm...Mama's forgetful today."

She would follow the evidence, for the moment. She was sure she'd feel foolish for it later.

[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Margaret," she said, calming down fairly immediately, though she still looked confused. "Can I have breakfast?"

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

"I -- in a moment, Margaret," Celia said. She was trying to figure out how this was even remotely possible. "Is -- where is your father? What's his name?"

[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Daddy," Margaret told her, easily. "I would like toast, please."

She folded her hands primly in her lap, smiling.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

"But Daddy doesn't have a name other adults use with him?" Celia tried, studying the girl. She did seem to have her hair. But plenty of people had curly brown hair, didn't they? It was quite common.

Plenty of people didn't break china when they threw tantrums, though. Damn it.

[bornachallenger.livejournal.com]

"Maybe," Margaret hedged thoughtfully. "Can I have toast with strawberry jam?"

Clearly not much would be done until toast was accomplished.