Wine's been poured and thank the Lord I've had the napkins freshly pressed... [Party-Thread]

[cookiesandhugs]

Grant Park, on any other day, could be called just a nice little park (or EPIC PARK, seeing as how it appears to have eaten Chicago) where people see other people and other people exercise and some people from different universes fall into Chicago

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[crimeatthetime]

Adrian creeps into the outskirts, keeping a wary eye on Gladys from across the clearing. He has his guitar case in one hand, because he thought, you know, it's a party. Parties need music. Mostly he's looking for Rachel, because if Gladys gets to him before someone familiar does he might just run for his life.

...He's not scared of the hyperactive little old lady, really.

[gotbottle]

Rachel sees Adrian creep in, and she hesitates a moment before striding over to meet him. She's happy to see him, she really is, as always, it's just...

Well. Sometimes when you peek at unlocked threads above yours in other peoples' journal entries, you... learn things. And you don't necessarily know what to make of them.

Her hands are clasped in front of herself, almost nervously, as she walks up. "Hey, you."

[crimeatthetime]

"Mija." Yeah, he's obviously relieved. He doesn't have to face the mad woman and her reign of cookie terror alone! "I was hoping I hadn't gotten here before you."

Give him a minute, Rachel. He'll figure out something's wrong.

[gotbottle]

"No... no. I've, uh. Been here for a little while."

Rachel shifts her weight from one foot to the other, hands still firmly interlaced. Man, she wants to hug him, touch him, something... but she's no longer sure that's okay.

"I got here early? In case. Like. Gladys needed help with anything."

[crimeatthetime]

Oookay, something's off here. "Rachel? What is it?"

He sets the guitar case down and goes to touch her shoulder, hesitating at the last moment. If she's uncomfortable around him for some reason he doesn't want to make it worse.

[gotbottle]

"What's what, mijo?"

...Yeah. 'Cause asking that kind of question, while neatly-yet-nervously dodging Adrian's outstretched hand, your eyes kinda wide, that totally convinces someone everything's just fine.

Oh, Rachel. There's a reason you're usually so honest. That reason being, you completely suck at lying.

"...How are you?"

[crimeatthetime]

"I'd be better if you told me what has you dancing around me like--Rachel, what is it? Please, if I did something, just tell me."

He can't help thinking this has something to do with Natalia, or what happened in his room. Is she having second thoughts about what she said? "Do you want me to leave?"

[gotbottle]

"No. No, Adrian."

Rachel frowns, glancing down at her hands. She unclasps them but promptly starts fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"You didn't do anything. I just. I think. Maybe... I did? And, like... I dunno. Maybe I should leave. Or something. I don't know."

[crimeatthetime]

"...Rachel, what are you talking about?" He is so hopelessly confused. If this isn't about what he said or did, he really has no idea what it could be. "You haven't done anything. I promise. Whatever it is you think you've done, it's fine."

[gotbottle]

If there's another thing Rachel's never exactly been good at, it's getting words out when she thinks she's failed.

"Okay, see. So. Like. I was reading the journals, right? And. I saw this one dude wanted to set up a chapel... church... thing... whatever. So I left him a note saying I'd help, right? And then I saw other people wanted to help, and of course, you know, I'm nosy, so I looked to see what other people were doing and I... well."

Her weight goes back to her other foot, her body shifting miserably, her fingers twisting the edge of her shirt almost frantically.

"...I didn't know you're a priest. And I'm so sorry that I've been, like. Bothering you and being all totally improper or whatever."

[crimeatthetime]

"You-- oh mija." He can't help it. He starts laughing. God, that's a relief. "I haven't been anything like a holy man for more than thirty years. I think you're safe."

[gotbottle]

Rachel shakes her head slowly, unconvinced.

"No, see. I was raised Catholic. I know, like-- being ordained. That's supposed to be for life or whatever."

[crimeatthetime]

"Rachel. Listen to me, all right?" He puts his hands on her shoulders, slowly, like she might jump away. "I am not a priest. I got the collar, yes. Even got assigned a parish. I left. Traveled. And then gave it up. It wasn't right for me. I thought it was, for a while. But I'm not the type. I'm not a shepherd. I can barely guide myself."

[gotbottle]

Rachel blinks up a few times; it's nearly visible, the way the words slowly sink in. And then she seems to crumple a bit, totally relieved.

"I mean. If you're sure. You're sure? 'Cause... okay, yeah. The things I've been thinking since yesterday. About. Like. Going to hell. For being improper. And stuff. Oh, man..."

She lets her head fall forward, her forehead lightly resting against the front of his shirt.

"I was so mortified, okay...?"

[crimeatthetime]

Adrian kisses the top of her head. "Do a half-dozen Hail Marys and we'll call it even," he says, teasing. A pause. A brief internal debate.

He's so going to get smacked for this.

"Though, you must have been rather imaginative to be so convinced you were going to hell--"

[gotbottle]

"Okay, that's not funny," Rachel protests, at Adrian's suggestion of penance. Though she's laughing as she says it.

That laugh, however, gives way to a groan. Her hands come up to cover her face--never mind her head is still bowed, her forehead pressed that much tighter against Adrian's chest, in a clear gesture of "I am SO not looking you in the eye right now..."

"...Mijo, you have no idea, okay?" she admits, a bit miserably.