(Untitled)

[sunbaked_baker]

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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[not_his_pa]

William's been busy and comes in with his jacket tight around him and heads straight for the fire.

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."

[sunbaked_baker]

There's a slightly surprised but very bright smile for him, when she turns to see who greeted her.

"Oh, hello there!" she says, pleasant but slightly bemused.

[not_his_pa]

"Hello, ma'am. Are you warm enough?"

That robe just doesn't seem like much.

[sunbaked_baker]

"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."

[not_his_pa]

William turns rather red and looks at her face,

"Didn't know that, ma'am."

[sunbaked_baker]

She's still smiling. "Oh, but you're still young. You'll learn."

"Though," she has to add, "even with the threat of war, isn't it a bit early to be wearing camouflage?"

That is the only reason to wear such a rough collection of grey-greens and mud-browns, right?

[not_his_pa]

"Threat of war, ma'am? We just finished one."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Well certainly you don't have to worry about it," she says, rolling her eyes slightly at his confusion. "It's not like it's America's problem."

[not_his_pa]

"But we just had a war, ma'am, rather bad one. There's one over in Europe too?"

Maybe he should have had more sleep last night, but its hard when Mark's coughing.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh of course!" she says smartly, wide-eyed. "It's made it the most difficult thing to get in new designs from the continent, and has done simply horrific things to the displays in the stores."

Grey rubber gas-masks clash with everything.

[not_his_pa]

"What year is it for you, ma'am?"

[sunbaked_baker]

"1939, of course," she says, wondering vaguely why the year feels strange on her tongue.

[not_his_pa]

"I ain't from the same year as you, ma'am,"

He mentions a year in the late 1860s and hopes she'll stop asking about war.

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry," she says.

Poor thing. No wonder he dresses like that.

1860s... that's like the Dark Ages when it comes to fashion.

[not_his_pa]

"My name's William Evans and ain't nothin' to apologize for, ma'am. Milliways makes time rather odd."

[sunbaked_baker]

"Oh! Well, pleased to make your acquaintance, William," she says with a pleasant smile.

Or a smile designed to look pleasant. She seems to be trying to hold back a coughing fit.

"I'm..." but she is overcome by the need to cough, and turns away. "Oh- I do hope this clears up by this evening, or else I won't be able to sing!"

"I'm Delysia," she says, recovering. It sounds a lot like 'delicious.' "Delysia LaFosse."