Catch the Spirit

[seesthespectrum]

Characters: Iris and Erik
Date & Time: December 23, evening
Setting: The Kitchen
Summary: It's Christmas Cheer in the Masterson family tradition: booze and biscuits. But mostly booze.
Rating: PG-13, for inevitable inebriation
Status: Open to Le Roi des Requins

Comments

[rageserenity]

Erik may or may not have been in the mood for a midnight snack, despite it not being midnight yet. Did that mean it couldn't be counted as a midnight snack? Was it only a 'Late Night Snack'? That didn't sound half as illicit.

At any rate, he had a strong and irrepressible desire for a late night snack, one that could only be fulfilled by a trip down to the kitchen to make up a plate of anything delicious he could find in the fridge or cupboards.

He was hoping for cake. And roast meat. And biscuits. And possibly chocolates. Maybe pistachios? And potato salad.

He didn't expect to find the kitchen already occupied, however, especially not with such decadent divine smells, and with Iris sat there indulging herself with baked goods and a steaming mug of something that smelled suspiciously like mulled wine.

Erik was German. That was a scent all too familiar to him, even after all these years.

"Ah, Iris, I see you're not lacking for company." What better company than a hoarde of gingerbread fellows and a gigantic pot of alcohol?

[seesthespectrum]

"Certainly not, now that you're here," Iris replied, waving a hand at the pot behind her. "Please, help yourself, Erik. Otherwise I'll end up drunk through Boxing Day."

She had figured rather heavily on others of appropriate age to meander through the kitchen at some point. Although she could have been perfectly content to consume the entire pot on her own, it was a much more pleasant idea to share with someone. Especially Erik, with whom she knew there was always a guarantee for good company.

"I had a feeling that we could all do with a bit of cheer right about now," she explained. "And what better way to find it?"

[rageserenity]

"Indeed, what better than the bottom of a pot of glühwein?"

Erik would certainly concede that fact. He poured himself a generous helping right to the brim of a huge coffee mug and sat himself down opposite Iris, leaning in to steal four cookies. Four cookies ought to start him off nicely, and then he could move to the fridge for more if they ran out.

He clinked his mug to hers and toasted her, flashing that ever charming Lensherr smile.

"To my dear Miss Masterson, and her culinary expertise."

[seesthespectrum]

Iris couldn't help but laugh a little as she toasted him in return. "I'd hardly call it 'expertise', my dear Mr Lensherr," she said lightly, dipping her head in acknowledgment. "But thank you."

The gingerbread man sacrificed an arm to her nibbles. She had to admit to being a bit surprised at his recognition of the beverage. Erik hardly seemed like the kind to pay much heed to any kind of tradition, let alone holiday ones. But she supposed it was just one more part of his enigmatic persona, emerging from the shadows just long enough to give a hint. Really, she ought to have expected it all along.

"I can make this, and I can make tea. Although I suppose that really is all one needs in life." She ran her finger around the rim of her mug, before bringing it to her lips. "One to get smashed, the other to rectify the previous night's abuses. It's the Masterson family motto."