"What!?" Sam reacted with a sharp and shocked little sound, heart racing in double-time when Angua surprised him and he whirled on her, mouth dropping open. "Did she say something?" he demanded, because he didn't think it had gotten that far. He hadn't even told anyone anything.
Angua's own eyes widened at Sam's outburst, and then she couldn't help but laugh. "No, but you're here collecting bridal magazines. I thought perhaps they were for her."
"I'm looking for books about shapeshifters in Indian lore," he admitted with a self-deprecating smile that came from him. "And I'm getting these and it's starting to get really old, really fast."
"Looks to me like the bookshelf has plans for you," Angua said with a small laugh, picking one of the magazine's up to have a look. "Gods, this dress is gorgeous. The box would never give up something like this."
"No, no, don't take the bookshelf's side," Sam protested with a mild (almost playful) groan. "It wants you to do that and make me suffer. We're supposed to be friends, Angua. Friends don't make friends go through the magazines he never wanted in the first place."
"I can promise with a hundred percent sureness that I have never in my life had lace call to me," he swore easily, happy to do so because yeah, just because he'd been thinking about marriage again didn't mean he needed to undergo this kind of magazine torture.
"I'll bet Jess owns something that would say otherwise," Angua said airily, opening the magazine to leaf through it. Most of the dresses inside were all like different versions of the one on the cover. All the women looked happy and beautiful. Honestly, she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "What exactly is this for, anyway? To get an idea of the sort of dress a woman would want for her wedding?"
Sam nearly choked on his own saliva when she made the comment about Jess and Sam was so, so very glad that she'd moved on and changed the topic. "And these are, I guess, for women who want to plan their weddings and have their perfect days. Why I'm getting them, I have no idea," he lied smoothly and easily.
"Perfect day, huh?" Angua wondered if that was true, and if she would ever experience it. Somehow it just wasn't the sort of thing she could imagine for herself.
She gave Sam a sly look. But she wouldn't push him about Jess anymore. She had more tact than a bookshelf, she liked to think.
"I'll bet if you take a few of these and come back later, the bookshelf will have something more to your liking. I think it likes when a person admits defeat."
"Or I could send someone later?" Sam offered, a bit too stubborn to ever really give up and definitely not to an inanimate object that was intent on torturing him. "I mean, it can't do this to everyone, right?"
"Well, leave the room and I'll turn around and see what it gives me. It loves to give me books about non-humans," Angua said, turning away from the bookshelf, magazine still in hand.
Sam just followed her example and though he was definitely confused about the whole thing, he turned away from it, glancing over to Angua. "Because of the whole werewolf thing?" he asked, just to clarify. "Because, I mean, you're pretty human looking in this place."
"Probably." Angua smiled, a small half-grin. "I think it tries to make me feel bad. Little does it know," she whispered, leaning toward Sam, "I don't mind being human so very much."
"Alright," she said, louder this time, and standing straight. "Give me your best, bookshelf." That said, she turned around, hoping it would have traded the magazines for something else.
What greeted her was not bridal magazines. They were books, small soft covers. She only had to tilt a few toward her and take a look at the covers to determine it was much more embarrassing than the wedding paraphernalia.
"Oh my. Sam? Don't you dare turn around. I don't need sharp teeth to rip out your jugular," she said sweetly.
Rows upon rows of romance novels. Women with heaving bosoms just waiting to pop out of bodices and strong, open-shirt men who had muscles to spare holding the women in various positions.
"Yeah, see, that just makes me more curio..." He didn't even have time to finish his sentence by the time he turned around and got a glimpse of the array of books that the shelves had decided to bestow on Angua. He muffled a bemused laugh and cleared his throat, putting his very best 'serious face' on. "At least there's more content and substance than pages and pages of pretty white dresses?"
"Oh my gods," she said instead as her eyes fell on the stack of magazines next to him, "are you and Jess getting married?"
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She gave Sam a sly look. But she wouldn't push him about Jess anymore. She had more tact than a bookshelf, she liked to think.
"I'll bet if you take a few of these and come back later, the bookshelf will have something more to your liking. I think it likes when a person admits defeat."
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"Alright," she said, louder this time, and standing straight. "Give me your best, bookshelf." That said, she turned around, hoping it would have traded the magazines for something else.
What greeted her was not bridal magazines. They were books, small soft covers. She only had to tilt a few toward her and take a look at the covers to determine it was much more embarrassing than the wedding paraphernalia.
"Oh my. Sam? Don't you dare turn around. I don't need sharp teeth to rip out your jugular," she said sweetly.
Rows upon rows of romance novels. Women with heaving bosoms just waiting to pop out of bodices and strong, open-shirt men who had muscles to spare holding the women in various positions.
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