sorrowandsorrow | Closed Post: The Three-Date Rule

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Closed Post: The Three-Date Rule

Maybe it's some kind of character growth, or something, that Janet can admit to herself she's a little bit nervous. It's embarrassing, but it would be stupid to pretend otherwise. It's also bizarre, because she hasn't been nervous about a date since she was a first year at Brakebills and Sebastien from the five-zillion-generations-of-magic family asked her out. (He turned out to be a dick. Quelle surprise.)

Anyway. The point is, she's kind of nervous, because Susan is meeting her here in T-minus not that many minutes, and this is undeniably date number three, and Janet's not supposed to give a shit about how it goes, but she can also admit to herself that she really wants it to go well. She blow-dried her hair, for Christ's sake. That was the first blow-dryer she'd seen in years, but apparently the mansion could tell she needed one. She's still in jeans, but they're nice ones, dark wash and everything. Her blouse is wine-red and off the shoulder. Basically, she's taken the whole date night thing to heart.

She's in one of the nicer lounges, one with some atmospheric exposed brick and expensive-looking furniture. There's a bottle of what she's about ninety-seven percent sure is real Fillorian wine on the table in front of her, along with two clean and empty wineglasses. There are no words on the label of the bottle, but there is a sigil of two rams' heads, which makes her irritable and nostalgic at the exact same time. Her legs are crossed, ladylike as hell, and her boots are freshly polished.

[NSFW!]

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"When a piece of toffee got planted," Janet repeats with incredulous amusement. "Will fantasy bullshit wonders never cease." She thinks about her options, then leans on Susan just a little bit as she reaches to unwrap the cheese plate. "Narnia sounds like if Fillory was cuter."

"They do seem to have rather a few similarities, don't they?" Susan muses. "Centaurs, dwarfs, gorgeous queens..."

Obviously, the very first thing Janet has to try is one of the toffee fruits. She pops one in her mouth and her eyes widen as she chews. "Well, shit. That really is toffee." She directs another grin at Susan. "Was Narnia flat? Fillory is flat. It's so stupid."

"From what Lucy and Edmund said? Yes; at the edge of the ocean lies the end of the world," Susan says, taking a sip of her wine and settling more heavily against Janet's side.

"Huh." Janet sneaks her arm around Susan's waist. It makes it a slightly awkward reach when she goes for another toffee fruit, but who cares. "That's exactly like Fillory. I didn't see it -- Eliot did, when he was fucking off on his quest and I was in charge."

Susan twists her head and presses a kiss to Janet's cheek, close to her jawline. She has opinions about putting shoes on couches, but it's so easy to tuck her feet up on the cushion next to her, leaning into Janet's touch as she reaches for an almond. "I don't remember why we didn't voyage, when we ruled," she says, thoughtfully. "I suppose there was too much to do in Cair Paravel."

The kiss pulls another smile out of Janet, who's assembling a bite of cheese and cracker for herself. Magic-strengthened hands are also useful for when you have a beautiful woman in one arm and can't spare it. "Yeah, he went off and I had to take care of the kingdom. He did save the entire existence of magic, so I guess it was worth it, but the administrative burden! Fucker."

Susan rather likes administrative burdens. This is rather obvious to most who meet her, and therefore doesn't demand anyone remark upon it. "Utterly unconscionable," she says instead. And then, laying it on thick: "At least now our diplomatic duties are much more engaging."

"Don't worry," Janet says as if confiding something, "I handled it amazingly and all our subjects were terrified of my prowess." Still, she smirks a little at Susan's ploy, obvious as it is. "I think the people of Fillory would love you."

"The people of Narnia wouldn't know what to do with you," says Susan, leaning to take another few almonds and a bit of cheese. She twists to flick a glance at Janet. "I mean this in the most complimentary way."

"Oh?" Janet's smirk stays firmly in place. She still has an arm around Susan's waist, so she gives her side a friendly squeeze. "Do tell, Your Majesty."

"Well, you're an ice witch queen," says Susan, resting a hand on Janet's knee as she sits back up. "But unlike our last, you're not evil. Also you're rather striking. The dryads would feel put to shame."

"I'm not evil, thank you for noticing." Janet snags an almond for herself. "Am I hotter than the evil ice witch queen? Lie if you have to."

"It's no contest," Susan says, immediately. "And I do mean this truthfully. You're miles more attractive."

"Oh, thank God." Janet laughs. She spreads her fingers against Susan's side, brushing the swell of her hip. "Maybe evil isn't that sexy? Eliot and I met the big bad of the Fillory books. I really had thought she'd be hotter."

Susan turns into the touch, giving Janet a bright look. "Do you think that evil erodes sexiness? Or might we be the most effective evil queens known to any world simply because we'd introduce sex appeal into the equation?"

"Ooh," Janet says, equally bright. "I know we've already done this subject, but the universe really is very lucky that we're not evil. We'd be unstoppable." She lets her hand slip lower, to the outside of Susan's thigh. "I've heard stories of a lot of different worlds. Not just the ones represented here. I'm talking weird shit, like everyone is a mermaid, up is down, et cetera. I bet we could take them all."

"It's really very good for everyone here that you've turned your attention to welters and I've turned mine to inventory and infrastructure," Susan says, taking a sip of her wine and curling a little deeper into Janet's side. This sort of musing always bears repeating! "They should bring tithings to stave off our boredom."

"Inventory and infrastructure." Janet laughs, but honestly, that's sexy of Susan, too. God knows someone has to do it. "Was that the point of that survey? Inventory of human resources?"

Susan looks at Janet, delighted that she's sorted that out. "That was my reason, at least," she says. "I think Nina's was wanting to ensure everyone has the opportunity to attend social events that suit them."

"Aw. Yeah, that sounds like Nina." Janet says it a little mockingly, but it's fond mocking. Nina was one of the first people she actually liked around here. "Are you going to do something with that inventory? Is this a slow takeover?"

"Oh, I'm still trying to sort out exactly how this place works," Susan says, lightly. "Tracking what changes, and why, and how, and precisely how much bullying it requires to produce something useful. Then I shall set about organizing it in a more reasonable way."

"This is so hot of you." Janet snatches another cheese and cracker combination with one hand, but the other's going for a very familiar grip on Susan's hip. "Let me know if you need me to yell at anyone. Or, obviously, if you figure out this place works and there is a master magician behind it, I want to tell him he's a piece of shit to his face."

"Oh, but of course," says Susan, leaning in to grab a toffee fruit and a chunk of the more aged of the cheeses, both of which she pops into her mouth.

Now that she's snacked appropriately, Janet relaxes her arm around Susan, but that's only so she can lean forward and snag her wineglass. The second sip is still good; also bizarrely a relief. Casually, she says, "Laertes told me I need to find a purpose here. Asshole. He's right, obviously, but I had one somewhere else and then it got snatched away."

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