fandomtownies | Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Friday [12/10].

Dwight was up early that morning... but that might have been because it was already morning technically by the time he went to bed. But who needed to worry about annoying little details like that? So what if he had missed the radio broadcast that morning? It wasn't all that big of a deal.... Fandom was going to Fandom, and it would take a lot to ruin his mood that morning.

He had been on a mission last night and as far as he was concerned, it had been a success. And the grin on his face pretty much said as much as he walked over to the forge, carrying a covered tray of some sort in his hands. He had been putting something to the test, an idea he had, and he was quite happy with the results.

"Morning Amaya," he said as he approached the forge. "At it bright and early as usual I see."

"No other way!" Amaya confirmed confidently, giving a few more strokes on the lovely new axe that was taking shape for Margo, before she took a second to inspect the work--

--was that...something in the ceiling corner reflected in the curve of the axeblade? Amaya blinked a little, then squinted, and realized that it was still not nearly shiny enough yet to be effective in reflecting, she was clearly just being paranoid, so she set the axe down and considered that Dwight had not arrived empty handed, and gave the tray a nod of acknowledgement.

"What'cha got there?" she asked, settling her hammer over her shoulder with a still tight grip. She couldn't really explain it, but she had a sneaking suspicion right now that she might want to keep a hold on it...

Dwight set the tray down and gave Amaya a slight grin.

"Don't know if you remember or not, but I've been taking that cooking class over at the Community Center. We're just about done and well, I got hit with some inspiration after the class yesterday. So.... well... I decided to give it a try."

Dwight hesitated a moment before pulling the cover off the tray. Sitting there was a nice loaf of freshly made garlic herb bread. And beside it was a very ambitious Lobster Roll as well.

"Figured, what better way to see if I could repeat the success and push myself a little more?"

The mention of the cooking class certainly sparked Amaya's attention; besides the coffee, she hadn't really done much to break her fast yet, keen on getting straight to work, and she wouldn't say no to a bite to eat, and now that he mentioned it, yes, she could smell it, which only just made her stomach try to join the conversation a little.

But then she saw the bread and looked up at Dwight, looking amused despite the wryness of her words.

"You do know I like things other than lobsters," she started, "right?"

But even before it had entirely left her lips, her attention seemed to catch on something else. She...supposed it could have just been the soft roar of the forge behind her, coals shifting, embers settling, but she could swear she heard something like the faint rustling of leaves, somewhere up near the ceiling, that almost sounded like...

She was now frowning past Dwight's shoulder, squinting into the shadows, but, no....all seemed quiet now.

Perhaps a little too quiet? Amaya started to wonder if she should start shifting closer to the Crumbler. But how to do so without stirring up suspicion?

"Of course, but figured why pass up such a perfect opportunity" Dwight replied with a smirk. And there is a regular loaf there too so, ya know, got the bases covered I think."

He was about to say something else when he heard something behind him. Barely noticeable really. But he still heard it... the sound of something small hitting the ground behind him. Turning he looked over his shoulder for a moment, and then shrugged, figuring he was hearing things and turned back to Amaya.... totally overlooking the handful of small red berries that now lay scattered on the ground of the forge.

"So," he said turning back to Amaya and shaking his head slightly. "I also made coffee" he added, setting the thermos down beside the tray. "Shall we see how this all turned out?"

But Amaya wasn't listening; if she hadn't been on high alert before, she certainly was now, because her ceiling was not in the habit of just dropping berries at random, and she was not about to overlook them. Distracted, she moved past Dwight, gripping her hammer even tighter, as she ignored everything about the bread in favor for a certain dread now clenching her stomach.

She knelt down cautiously, reaching out to pick up one small, barely perceptible berry from the floor.

"Oh," Amaya murmured as the light of realization dawned on her, "zards."

She looked up just in time to see the mistletoe start to drop from the ceiling, deftly dodging and rolling out of the way before it could manage to snare her. She was less deft getting back to her feet, but she was ready, she'd been preparing for this moment! It was not going to get her this year as she made a dash to the Crumbler in the far corner of the shop.

"Dwight!" she shouted as she did so, reaching to get the machine started. "Watch out! We got mistletoe!"

Dwight turned in confusion for a moment, watching Amaya, and then he realized what she had said. Great... it was mistletoe day after all.

Dwight stepped to the side, avoiding the descending plant for a moment, looking around for something to defend himself with. How exactly did one fight off sentient mistletoe anyways?

Glancing around, he quickly grabbed the cloth cover from the bread tray and tossed it at the mistletoe.

"Amaya? Little help here" he said as he missed and tried again.

On the bright side, they were surrounded by weapons.

However, the weapons Amaya had been hoping to use in this particular situation seemed to be failing her, as she snagged up one of the flamethrowers from the side of the Crumbler, weilding it in a deftly practiced manner, reaching for the trigger as she aimed, and...

Instead of the expectant spout of ill-advised flame, there was just...nothing. Maybe a sort of pathetic, desperate puff of smoke, at best, but other than that...

She blinked and looked down at the weapon in her hand, finding all the parts and pieces she'd so tenderly put together with revenge and arson in her mind to be...perfectly, completely jammed with festive greenery.

"Those sneaky little sprigs!" she shouted, aghast, but was going to waste no more time gawking. She threw down the flamethrower and turned toward the weapons on the wall.

"Alright, you weasly weeds!" she declared, holding a hatchet aloft. "Now it's persona--hey!"

Just like that, more mistletoe dropped from the ceiling to snatch that hatchet right out of her hands and, taking advantage of her moment of confusion, gave her a not-so-gentle shove back toward the center of the shop and the other sentient being with a pair of lip in the room.

Dwight had glanced quickly over his shoulder at hearing Amaya's cry of dismay. But he was a bit distracted at the moment as he finally managed to catch the pesky mistletoe in and had it wrapped up in the blanket.

"Amaya, I got it!" he shouted as he held it up aloft with a grin.

The smile was soon replaced by a look of dismay however as, if almost on cue, several more plants descended out of the rafters over Dwight's head.

"Oh bullocks" he muttered as he tried to shoo the plants away as they darted around his head, still trying to keep a hold on the one he had managed to corral. "Hey Amaya...." he started as he turned around, only to be met with said person being sent flying across the forge and right into him.

Amaya would certainly take umbrage with the use of the word flying; stumbling, she felt, was much more fitting, although she wouldn't have exactly liked that word, either. Because in her attempts to regain her bearings, the mistletoe had done a fine job of taunting her by tossing the hatchet well out of reach and, as she tried to stop herself, showing up just underfoot at precisely the right moment where all she seemed to be able to next was just fall perfectly into Dwight, clinging to him in her body's own betrayal to keep herself from just falling flat on her face.

Considering the circumstances, flat on her face would have been preferable! But the big bloody fool had gone and caught one, and now that they were as close as close could be, she realized there was no way she could push herself back quickly enough before it took advantage.

All that preparation! Thrown right out the window, just to be caught up in that classic mistletoe snare of throwing two bodies together and wrapping itself around them like pigs for the spit and refusing to let them go until they....until they....

"Ahhhh....fuck," said Amaya.

Which was not a curse she used lightly!

Ok so that all happened faster than Dwight had anticipated. Catching Amaya was an instinctual move, and though it was only a second or two, it felt like much longer as they stood there, almost uncomfortably close, just staring at each other.

Dwight started to take a step back, to put a little more space between them before finding that he practically back against the wall of the forge somehow. As he was about to shift his movement to gently push Amaya off of him, he felt it- ropes, or vines or something snaking around them, pulling them closer together.

Blinking slightly in both surprise and bewilderment as seconds later they were both completely tangled up in mistletoe, Dwight just stared at Amaya for a moment. This wasn't at all how he had expected the whole mistletoe fiasco to go whenever it did happen to happen. Yet here he was. And while the situation wasn't exactly ideal, he had to admit it could have been far.. far worse.

"Hey, knock it off!" he yelled at the plants as he struggled against the mistletoe that had wrapped itself around the back of his head. The plant responded by wrapping tighter around his arms, pinning them even more firmly in place. He struggled a bit more before sighing, admitting, at least to himself, that they were effectively captive now by sentient vouyeristic plants.

This definitely was NOT how he had envisions things going when he had come by the shop this morning. But if this was how it was going to go, at least he was going to choose the 'how' of the inevitable, if not necessarily the 'when.'

Dwight gave one last tug with his arms with a look, the look of defeat against damn sentient plants. After another moment of awkward silence, the mistletoe tightening again as if to tell them to get on with it, Dwight gave Amaya an almost apologetic nod and leaned over, closing the already far too small distance between them, and kissed her.

Amaya's own attempts to try and wriggle her way out of the mistletoe wrapping around them seemed to just somehow manage to bring them even closer together, much to her annoyance, much to her dismay, she had thought she was so prepared this time, she thought she was finally going to beat the system! But she'd been outwitted by plants yet again, and was almost starting to feel like she should probably know better by now to even try, and she started to reason with herself that she supposed it could have been worse, Dwight at least would understand that their hands were almost literally tied in the matter, might as well go and get it over with, but she really wished these blasted plants would just find a different strategy, but as she herself would have said, if it wasn't broke, don't fix it--

--all of that was racing through Amaya's head, like the seven stages of grief in flash forward, with just one lingering moment of, well, between the two of them, stalward, strong types, they could still maybe manage to break themselves free, and she opened her mouth as if to say as much, only to find instead of words coming out, there was a kiss coming in.

And she blinked, almost as if surprised that it actually could have just been that easy. Then she felt a little smack of a leaf on the back of her head that seemed to be reminding her that kissing--at least any sort of kissing that was going to pass the test of getting out of a messy mistletoe situation--was a two-way street, so....with a sigh of...well, she was going to call it resignation...she closed her eyes and pressed forward into the kiss, with the understanding that she might as well just keep doing so until the mistletoe was satisfied enough to start loosening its vines.

So the kiss was not bad at all... not that he had been anticipating anything terrible from Amaya or anything. But what did catch him off guard was when rather than breaking it off at a quick peck, she returned the kiss. And there was nothing to really complain about at all... other than the circumstances that lead to this moment. But Dwight was still feeling flips and jumps in his stomach he had not felt since... well not in quite some time. And he'd be bald face blind liar if he said he didn't like it.

As the kiss continued for another moment or two... hours it felt like awkward hours to be honest... the mistletoe vines started to loosen. Whether it was the slight squirming and tugging that finally made them relent or they were actually at last content with their work, that would likely be a question never fully answered. But whatever the reason, the vines did begin to unwind and untangle themselves until the ~~unwilling?~~ couple fell back from each other, breaking the kiss.

And there he stood. That tall imposing form of a man reduced to little more than an awkward blushing teenager as he stood there, unable to look at Amaya for a moment as he pulled off the tangled straggling pieces of mistletoe off.

"S...sorry about that..." he muttered as he threw down one piece of the offending plant and stomped it with his heel, casting a glance at Amaya before pulling his gaze away.

What exactly was he apologizing for? The kiss? How likely terrible it had actually been for Amaya? It was for several things... including the rising guilt that he was feeling now over the fact that he had kind of... no... really actually enjoyed the kiss.

Well, then. It...it wasn't exactly sea salt and chapped lips, but it was...something. Something else entirely, but just the fact that the comparrison had sprung up in Amaya's head as the mistletoe loosened filled her with an odd spark, something almost irate, really, if she was honest with herself, but also a compulsion, a longing, really, to find out more about exactly what that something else was supposed to be. And it was funny, too, how that loosening mistletoe almost felt like the falling away of walls so carefully built up, but the thing about suddenly being without those walls was that it all sort of felt like you were in a freefall, and you didn't know exactly what condition you'd wind up in once your feet finally found the ground again.

Amaya rather felt like it was going to be a moment before her feet found that safe, solid ground again, but, once she did, she lifted her chin, started picking up those pieces of rubble. Squared her shoulders. Started putting them neatly, firmly back in place.

Sea salt and chapped lips, indeed. That irate, irritated spark flared up again as she made a particular note to straighten out her skirt, give her gloves a firm little tug back into place. "No need," she assured Dwight, quite a bit brusquely, at this point just hoping to set things right-side up again, and giving him a resolute little nod of assurance. "Had to be done, and now that it is? We can get some blasted peace and quiet from them from here on in. If anything," she drew in a breath, because that was the crux of it, wasn't it? If there'd been any failure in this, it had been here, "I should be the one apologizing. I thought I'd be ready for it this year, but those...damn plants are still craftier than I give them credit for!"

"Eh, Fandom is gonna Fandom. Only so much we can do about it" Dwight said with a handwave and a slight shrug. "But like you said, at least its over and done right?"

Dwight hoped the grin and chuckle didn't appear as forced and empty as they felt. Because what he was feeling were things he had not felt or had to deal with in many, many years. And while it didn't seem like that bad of a thing now that it was all said and done.... maybe it had been for Amaya. Was likely. He had never been all that good at theses sorts of things. No reason to expect anything different. And now to just convince himself that that was all true and accurate and applicable.

"Least I can do is help ya clean up a little" he said, still avoiding eye contact mostly, willing that heat and redness he still felt to leave his face. He bent down and grabbed a few pieces of the mistletoe that lay in the floor. "Into the fire with the monstrosity?" he asked holding up a few pieces with a nod towards the forge and a slight grin on his face.

"Over and done," Amaya echoed again with another stout little nod, trying her best not to think about how it seemed to have sounded a little hollow there, didn't it? She certainly wasn't about to dwell on that fact, and just shook her head a little, giving her hand its own dismissive wave.

"Don't bother with all that," she said. "I'll handle it. Longer you stick around, the more likely it's going to probably get into its head...or leaves...or berries or whatever it may be, to get cute and try for a round two. Honestly, at this point, I'm best off closing down and locking up and calling the day a wash."

Words that would not be followed through with nearly enough urgency that she would certainly be regretting later!

"Ah right. Of course. Better safe than sorry" Dwight muttered with a nod. Obviously she wouldn't want him hanging around after all- that. And he'd only end up doing something else to make himself look like a food if he did. "I should probably go make sure the shop is clear of any too, thinking about it..."

Dwight paused for a moment and opened his mouth like he was about to say something else then simply gave a slight nod as he started to turn to leave. She was right, was for the best he didn't stick around any longer. Wouldn't want a repeat of all that anyway... right?

"Take care, Amaya" he said with a quick nod and awkward grin before making a quick getaway.

And there was something in that response that sort of...hit Amaya, a sort of feeling like a punch in the gut, only a little more north, and with a bit of a twist in it, and she thought it might be something like guilt...or perhaps regret? But she frowned and shook her head a little to chase it away, because whatever it was, it was clearly mistletoe-related and therefor best left ignored and possibly buried good and deep from here on in, really.

She returned that awkward grin with one of her own, and thought that would be that, she turned her attention to her useless flamethrower, which meant catching sight of something else that made her turn back and call out to him with a tentative, "Dwight?"

Dwight stopped and looked over his shoulder before turning around. "Hum?" he asked, not sure he trusted himself quite at that moment to say much else. Whether the damned mistletoe or still a bit of adrenaline rush... it was still just a bit much. He gave her a slight grin as he took a few steps back towards the shop.

Amaya gave her own faint, awkward....maybe apologetic...sort of grin as she hitched her thumb toward the nearly forgotten tray.

"Thanks for the bread."

Dwight nodded. "Anytime. See ya around Amaya" he said with a simple but sincere smile.

Did Irene know anything was afoot? No, no -- when she'd been at the Perk earlier, she'd noticed people warily eyeing a corner of the ceiling, but this was Fandom! People did strange things literally all the time!

No, no, Irene was just here to flirt and talk weapons, of course. And she'd even brought a gift! Or, well. An offering.

"'Lo, Amaya! Are you a tea person or a coffee person?" she called as she wound her way into the forge on those mile-high, red-soled stilettos she favored. "I wasn't sure so I'll take whichever cup you don't want."

"Nope!" said Amaya, now that she knew all too well what day today was and really should have thought to lock the door before proceeding to tend to the flamethrowers that had been so expertly sabotaged by plants, almost the moment Irene walked in, barely before she'd even finished her statements. "Neither! Not today! Shop's closed, not a step further, Irene, just turn those fancy little shoes of yours," the ones she was going to need to be very careful not to be distracted by at the moment!, "right around and out the door before it's too late!"

"What on earth?" Irene obediently did stop in her tracks, but she didn't turn around yet on those fancy little shoes (and thank you for noticing, Amaya!) This was far, far too interesting for someone as curious as Irene, and so instead she was trying to look in further, maybe catch a glimpse of whatever the threat was. "Are you ill? Have you been invaded?" A gasp, a hope -- "Oh, will you have to fight something off?"

Help, help, save her, save her, et cetera.

Edited 2021-12-10 15:30 (UTC)

Well. It was bloody hard not to notice, really, even (or perhaps especially?) in such dire circumstances.

"I certainly hope not!" Amaya asserted, staring blue daggers at Irene and half tempted to just shove the other woman right out that door if she wasn't going to take it upon herself to do the job without the extra push, but there was the trouble, wasn't it? That was how they got you, the moment you dared get close to someone, even for their own protection. "But if you just keep standing there, we're not going to have any choice!"

And while there was a part of Amaya that had enough awareness to feel like coming out with it was only going to make this attempt to extract Irene safely from the situation all that more difficult, she figured it was better than nothing.

"It's that blasted mistletoe!" she said, angrily lifting and shaking her flamethrower rendered pitifully useless with all the leaves jammed into the gears. "And those trecherous trees got to my weapons before I could! They finally scampered off," her face started burning red as a brand as she tried not to think about how she'd managed that earlier!, "but I'm sure they're already on their way back now that you've waltzed in!"

Once was enough, Irene! And this one seemingly with the absurd addition of a small part of her (obviously crazy and traumatized from earlier experiences) brain making the ridiculous suggestion that maybe it wouldn't actually be that bad if they did show back up again.

"Oh, no, the aggressive mistletoe!" Irene was a much better liar, usually -- all attempts at dismay here were purely for Amaya's sake and, really, not especially convincing. Honestly, she liked this one so much more than the bears or the eggnog (she had been unhappy about the eggnog, yes), and it was something of a tradition 'round here, wasn't it? Traditions were important! Especially holiday ones!

And besides: Amaya was already blushing. Irene could hardly leave now. Especially when she could make it all worse! Or better, depending on one's perspective.

"That's very sad about your weapons," she added, a touch more sincere even if she couldn't help a half-smile and the glint in her eye. "What do you think would happen if we were preemptive about it? Would the mistletoe strike if I just walked over and kissed you now?"

And she was choosing the tea, Amaya. Because she needed something to sip on smugly while asking that innocent, altruistic question.

Amaya managed to recover at least an inch in height from the way her shoulders squared and her spine stiffened at that clearly insane suggestion and the fact that, sure, she might not know much about Irene Adler, when all was said and done at the end of the day, but she knew enough to know that she probably not about to be called out on a bluff.

Suddenly, Amaya was thinking she needed a back door to the shop for emergency exits. Clearly, not having one was a tragic oversight in safety precautions.

"S'a bit like stabbing yourself in the stomach," Amaya murmured, that blush absolutely not going anywhere any time soon, "to avoid getting shot in the foot..." A pause, as if weighing which one of those was actually worse, "isn't it?"

"Might be nicer than being stabbed," Irene offered casually, taking a careful step towards Amaya and setting both drinks down on the nearest surface (though she was notably mindful not to put any liquids near anything that looked like it might be especially susceptible to damage from a spill, just in case.) "Or at least, no one's ever come away from a kiss I've given them with more damage than a bit of lipstick on the collar."

Or, well. Life-ruining blackmail, but po-tay-toes, po-tah-toes. That was a different lifetime, anyway.

"And plus I like you," she added, absolutely pressing her luck here and knowing it. "And it's not as though I've not thought about kissing you before."

Well, congratulations, Irene. If you'd set out to somehow manage to be worse than mistletoe, you'd succeeded, and with flying colors.

Because at least Amaya could just torch the mistletoe and not feel even remotely bad about it!

She sucked in a breath and lifted her chin and tried to decide whether or not to take an oh-so-subtle step back for every step Irene took inside, but, then again, it almost started to feel like a bit of a battle of the wills, and she couldn't exactly back down from that, could she?

"Now why in the world," she said, already answering herself by going ahead and supposing that there probably weren't many people Irene hadn't thought about kissing, really, "would you go and think a thing like that?"

And as soon as she'd asked it, she regretted it, because asking it meant it might actually get answered, and that would be...well...a small desperate sound escaped Amaya, much her her dismay.

"I mean," she added in quickly, and took that step back, and fell into logic, because logic could work, here, right? Irene seemed a nice, logical woman, that was part of what Amaya admired about her, a certain sense of reasonability... "really, the best solution for everyone here is obviously if you just left, Irene, I'll just go ahead and lock the door behind you, we call the day a wash and wait for it to all clear up for tomorrow. I really appreciate the drink and all, but the timing could not be worse, maybe we can try it again some other time when we're not likely to be beset with pushy plants and meddlesome mistletoe at any given moment...."

Irene was logical, as well as reasonable, which was why she thought this preemptive plan was genius, really!

"What are you so worried about?" she asked, a little more gentle in her amusement now, as she took a tiny step forward -- more of a symbol than an actual intended approach. There was a fine line between flirting aggressively and coming on too strong, and she certainly didn't want to make Amaya feel trapped in her own shop. (Not when the mistletoe was already making things difficult!) "I can go," if the mistletoe would let her, anyway, and she wasn't going to vocalize that thought since she'd rather get out of here with a kiss and her updo un-mussed, "if you'd really prefer it, but from where I'm standing this seems like an outstanding reason to do something I've wanted to do since I first saw that pretty blush of yours."

See? That was why she'd want to do a thing like that, Amaya!

(And also because, yes, the list of people Irene had thought about kissing was long and detailed, of course, but she also rather liked you, Amaya.)

"Pretty little--!" With her nerves already frayed to hell and back already, it didn't take much at all to get Amaya sputtering on such a ridiculous claim, all geared up and ready to deny that such a thing could possibly exist, despite the clear evidence of it splayed perfectly across her face. But as she did, she could also practically hear the rustling of some of the mistletoe coming back for more, her eyes drifting up toward those rafter that were definitely going to be outfitted with better lighting to eliminate all those convenient shadows as soon as this was over.

Which meant they'd already taken up too much time, there was pretty much no way out of it now, either shot in the foot or stabbed in the stomach...

She looked back at Irene, which wasn't helping the blush at all, but it did change it slightly, as she realized that, the sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could not only stop worrying about the mistletoe (until someone else managed to wander in today of all days, anyway!), the sooner she could hopefully get Irene to stop saying such outlandish things that couldn't possibly be true...especially coming from someone like Irene...and Amaya could just go right back to stubbornly denying that she herself had ever had even the slightest bit of similar thoughts...

Zards, this was much easier to deal with when she could just drink it all back with an absurdly strong wassail...

"Alright, fine," said Amaya, with a forceful sigh of resignation that was sure to bolster anyone's confidence, truly, and a real testiment to her stellar sense of social grace, "let's just get it over with."

And it would be fine, and it wouldn't mean anything, and Irene could get this wild and nonsensical notion out of her system, and that would be that, and they could just go on with their lives, or so help her....

One of these days, Irene really ought to tell people in Fandom about the great detective in the funny hat, instead of just going on about princesses and duchesses and such. That gorgeous sense of social grace struck Irene still as nothing more than an adorable, transparent challenge -- just as it had been before with him.

"Promise it won't hurt," she said with a rueful snort, now moving over to Amaya with graceful and unfettered confidence. And really, had it been anyone else, there might have been an accompanying, 'Unless you ask nicely,' but there was pressing your luck and there was pressing your luck.

Instead, Irene was content to take the victory here -- and without anything descending from the rafters, even! Though it did sound like maybe something was stirring (could be her imagination), and thus, there was no time to waste -- as soon as she was close enough, Irene leaned in to bring her hand up to the other woman's cheek and give Amaya a gentle, perhaps-surprisingly chaste kiss on the lips.

And at least, since she knew it was coming, Amaya figured she could at the very least prepare herself for it, bolstering herself up and steeling herself for the inevitable, and she thought she'd done a good job, too. Chin lifted, thrust defiantly, as she closed her eyes and parted her lips with her soft inhale of breath that she suspected she would be holding until the whole thing was finally finished.

But that held breath didn't even last past when Irene touched her cheek. It came rushing right back out of her as all that steel seemed to melt right back down, and she leaned forward into it, and--

--blinked, as the simple chasteness of it was surprising, and it caught her off-guard (when she was already feeling enough of that already as it was), to the point where the words "What? That's it?" came tumbling out of her mouth before she could even process that they'd even been there to begin with.

Irene had made a career of testing, feeling out and ultimately respecting the limits of others, and that kiss had been something of a flare thrown up to see how Amaya would actually react. All this trepidation and blustering signaled -- at least to Irene -- potentially an actual lack of reciprocal feelings, or (and more likely to her mind) nerves or something like them.

And thus, that reaction got a quiet, genuine laugh out of her. "Oh, I thought we were just scaring mistletoe off," Irene teased softly, not moving away just yet in favor of tracing a light thumb along Amaya's jaw.

"But I can do much better than that." And with that pronouncement, she leaned in to do exactly that, aiming for a kiss much more like one might expect out of a woman like Irene Adler.

Which also meant she was sorry in advance for the lipstick marks she was going to leave behind.

Well, speaking of challenges, any attempt to accurately get a read on Amaya Blackstone in this territory was....certainly one of those! Good luck with that one!

And you'd think, with all that money she presumed Irene poured into making herself look that sleek and nice, some of it could have at least gone to a lipstick that would manage to stick to the lips it was supposed to.

Amaya would have liked to have argued that, in her experience, a kiss like that first one rarely did anything to satisfy the nefariously overt expectations of Fandom mistletoe, but then there was a thumb along her jaw and a panicked little moment for just what exactly her mouth had just gotten her into (in more ways than one!), and then she rather completely forgot what she was thinking about as that next kiss (she'd be salty about how two kisses weren't necessarily part of the deal later....maybe) was much more in line with the sort of kiss she'd thought would result from Irene kissing a person....

...if that was something she would have thought about before, which it clearly was not, obviously...

Zards, she was going to have a whole mess of thoughts to valiantly avoid actually sorting through and figuring out after this, up to including a certain relief that that hadn't been it and a particular eagerness to respond in kind.

Just to make sure. What with the mistletoe, and all...

Look, she was welcome to complain about being kissed twice when everyone's mouths were available for complaints again, sure. Irene would definitely acknowledge the total unfairness of stealing a second kiss, for sure.

In the meantime, though, Irene was very focused on kissing Amaya -- mostly because it was something she'd thought about prior to now, of course, that had been well-established, but she really was wary enough of the threat of mistletoe to make sure that this was well done enough to satisfy the stuff. (Much though the prospect of being valiantly rescued by a flamethrower-wielding Amaya was sort of swoonily delightful in its own way, clearly that option was out the window, anyway!)

But, as all good things must come to an end (and Irene was never one to not leave the objects of her affection wanting more), she did pull back eventually, her eyes staying closed for a moment before she opened them and rolled them up to the rafters curiously. "Think we scared it off?"

She could keep this up, you know. Twist her arm more.

Blackstone Foundry and Forge; Friday [12/10].

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