Stop the presses; it's official. Rae didn't like being sick. Not one bit. Her throat hurt and she felt achy all over- not at all like her usual self
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Comfortable, friendly recognition (Ned) is suddenly and completely swamped with another thought (Michael).
Her head turns round to him in the space of an instant upon hearing his voice, wide-eyed startlement mingled with faint fear melting mostly seamlessly into a bright smile, as though she'd been expecting him all along.
"Michael, darling!" she exclaims, sitting up quickly (though it makes her head spin - how horrible being ill is!).
"It's a little chilly, sure," she replies with a slight laugh, turning to smile at him over her shoulder. "But the fire is nice and warm, and I just couldn't resist such a lovely gown. There's just something wonderful about the feel of satin against one's skin. Almost as good as fur."
"Do you like it?" she says brightly, and turning to show it off to advantage. "I just love the feel of satin against the skin, don't you? Almost as good as fur."
"And no." Her smile is bright, though perhaps part of the brightness in her eyes is fever. "I'm just fine. Just a little under the weather."
Turning quickly away, she's caught by a fit of coughing - she can't help it - and it doesn't sound like it's the first such fit. There is much clearing of the throat and delicate tucking of hair back behind her ear, afterwards. "I'm sure it'll clear up by tonight. It's has to."
Rae grimaces slightly, rubbing her aching, chilled arms. "I'd planned to make apple turnovers, tonight. And I can't be hacking my head off while messing with people's food. Nick would be furious."
[ooc: Is it too late to tag in? We can always try again later, if so.]
The bespectacled Kate Barlow has moved from the Bar to a seat close by, frowning over a cup of roasted loose-leaf organic green tea, after resisting the urge to order a dirty martini.
She notices Rae, and self-consciously adjusts her glasses.
"Wow! You look like a movie star," she says, with a shy smile.
Sunshine, or Delysia, beams at her. "It is wonderful, isn't it? A friend of mine designed it - his designs are famous, really the hot thing these days. Others would have you trussed up in so much whalebone that you might as well have fins, but not him. No one understands a woman's body like Joe does."
Said complete with sly giggle and wink.
"He can work wonders." Though perhaps that last comment is said with a bit of a glance to what Kate is wearing.
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The chill from the flu reaches his bones, making it nearly impossible to feel like he'll ever get warm.
Ned sees Rae lounging on the couch, and means to say 'Hi'.
What comes out instead is, "Delysia."
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Her head turns round to him in the space of an instant upon hearing his voice, wide-eyed startlement mingled with faint fear melting mostly seamlessly into a bright smile, as though she'd been expecting him all along.
"Michael, darling!" she exclaims, sitting up quickly (though it makes her head spin - how horrible being ill is!).
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And wondering why he just answered to 'Michael'.
He's never been a 'Michael' before.
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Hasn't it been so long?
"How have you been?" She asks emphatically, holding out her hand to tug him to the couch beside her.
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When he sees Rae, he blushes since she's wearing something less than he's used to and tips his hat to her, "Ma'am."
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"Oh, hello there!" she says, pleasant but slightly bemused.
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That robe just doesn't seem like much.
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"And no." Her smile is bright, though perhaps part of the brightness in her eyes is fever. "I'm just fine. Just a little under the weather."
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"I'm not completely convinced," he admits.
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Rae grimaces slightly, rubbing her aching, chilled arms. "I'd planned to make apple turnovers, tonight. And I can't be hacking my head off while messing with people's food. Nick would be furious."
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The bespectacled Kate Barlow has moved from the Bar to a seat close by, frowning over a cup of roasted loose-leaf organic green tea, after resisting the urge to order a dirty martini.
She notices Rae, and self-consciously adjusts her glasses.
"Wow! You look like a movie star," she says, with a shy smile.
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"Oh! Dear, you're too kind!"
Ignore the obvious posing.
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"No, really. That gown looks divine."
The satin makes the frumpy thing Kate's wearing look like a burlap sack.
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Said complete with sly giggle and wink.
"He can work wonders." Though perhaps that last comment is said with a bit of a glance to what Kate is wearing.
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