twistdfateangel: (Default)
[personal profile] twistdfateangel
Fandom: Kingdom
Characters: Vanessa, Jane
Summary: New Year's Eve, 2014. Two old warhorses toast the future.

It was easily the most beautifully absurd thing Vanessa had ever laid eyes on. Jane had to have done something mildly illegal to get any haberdasher to agree to it. Three feet of silk veil the color of India ink dripping down the back and twisted into a fabulous bow, with champagne, silver and black roses, a matching fascinator veil in front, studded with black, silver and pale gold crystals, all attached to a magnificently dramatic champagne silk mad hatter top hat. She'd even matched it to her tail coat. It brought tears to her eyes, remembering the shy little kitten following Mara and Lynn with adoring eyes.

"Hey! Nessa!" Jane crowed from her vantage point on top of the table, "TOAST!" A few heads turned in the crowd, then turned away. It was just another drunk co-ed, dancing barefoot on a table with a pitcher of mint julep balanced on her hat. Even now, Jane had the gift of being somebody else's problem.

"TOAST!" Nessa responded and thrust her cosmo high. "To Melba?"

"I hate Melba toasts!" She laughed at the geeky sally and presented her bottle of cider, "To LIFE!"

"L'chaim!" The cosmo vanished in a gulp and she grabbed another from a passing waiter. "To the Hunt!"

"Tallyho!" Jane knocked back the last of her bottle and accepted a glass of champagne from a passerby. "To the gifts!"

"Happy fucking birthday! To never being alone in a crowd!"

"To love!"

"To the Doctor!"

Jane paused at this. "Which one?"

"ALL OF THEM!"

A rumbling rocked the bar. But, this was no earthquake. Something was screaming like a steam train in Hell. The patrons froze and some clever individual began herding them to the exit, right as the bastard child of an ape and a shag rug broke down the men's room door. Of course. Why would tonight be any different?

"Hey, Jane? Time?" Nessa asked, squeezing her earrings for a bit of reference. A hard, cognac diamond shell coated her fist.

"Call it 11:20?" said Jane, as she began removing her gloves.

"Then let's make it snappy. This jackass is not making me miss the ball drop."
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August 2013

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