Methos was very curious to meet this woman who'd captured Gabriel's attention. She must have been something to make the trickster angel try his hand at settling down. So he arrived a few minutes after seven, Stepping up to the door, he rang the bell.
Fran was still in the kitchen, putting the final touches on the meal--dressing the spring salad with cilantro vinaigrette, checking on the balsamic-glazed pork chops, dusting powdered sugar on the brownies she'd baked that morning. As such, when the doorbell rang, her gaze turned to Gabe.
"Mind getting that? I know if I were a proper fifties housewife, it'd be my job, but I only have two hands." It was definitely a joke--after all, she loved having an occasion to cook for.
"If you were a proper fifties housewife, you'd be wearing an expensive set of pearls, kiddo." Gabriel pressed a kiss into her hair before wandering towards the front door to let Methos in the apartment.
"Hey, c'mon in." Shutting the door behind them, he paused for a moment. There's a tangible rush of power that should prick familiar to the immortal before Gabriel winked at him. Holy ground. For the night, the apartment was technically holy ground and a sanctuary away from the game. The place is comfortably furnished, and there's even evidence that the angel is living there on a full time basis. A pair of shoes near the door, his jacket hung up in the closet.
"Fran's in the kitchen," he jerked his head towards the warm kitchen towards the back, full of warm, delicious smells. "Beer's back here too."
A small smile spread over his face as he felt that power and he realized what Gabriel had done. Methos hadn't been worried their evening would get ruined by a wandering Immortal, but the realization he was utterly safe was comforting.
He stepped inside, looking over the house, his nostrils flaring as the scent of food hit him, "Well, whatever she's cooking smells wonderful."
Comments 23
Reply
"Mind getting that? I know if I were a proper fifties housewife, it'd be my job, but I only have two hands." It was definitely a joke--after all, she loved having an occasion to cook for.
Reply
"Hey, c'mon in." Shutting the door behind them, he paused for a moment. There's a tangible rush of power that should prick familiar to the immortal before Gabriel winked at him. Holy ground. For the night, the apartment was technically holy ground and a sanctuary away from the game. The place is comfortably furnished, and there's even evidence that the angel is living there on a full time basis. A pair of shoes near the door, his jacket hung up in the closet.
"Fran's in the kitchen," he jerked his head towards the warm kitchen towards the back, full of warm, delicious smells. "Beer's back here too."
Reply
He stepped inside, looking over the house, his nostrils flaring as the scent of food hit him, "Well, whatever she's cooking smells wonderful."
Reply
Leave a comment