Sarah Jane Smith can be found in the lobby. She's decided that it is much too close to Christmas and the place is sadly lacking in decor
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Here is company! Or rather Four, who is wearing very large reindeer-shaped pin fastened to one of his scarves and whistling a tune faintly recognisable as being a carol somewhere. Possibly on a planet that isn't Earth, for a holiday that isn't Christmas.
He stops by the tree, touches a branch, then contorts to look at it closer. "Plastic!" he announces finally. A glance at Sarah Jane, mischief in his eyes. "Plastic forests of Sicanius Deux?"
"Just as good, probably," he says with a grin. "Or maybe better. No risk of plastic termites in this, I imagine." He catches a bauble and turns it around in his hands. "Hols?"
She laughs. "I don't think there are plastic termites in it, no." Her head cants to one side. "Christmas. It's on the twenty-fifth and there are no real decorations up."
"Turn that rubbish off!", he scowls at the radio. He turns his attention to Sarah Jane, "What're you doing? Christmas isn't for months yet." He's lost track of time, and is happily living in a place of mind that isn't the festive season, the glass of wine that is almost permanently in his hand might have something to do with it as well.
She looks to the man and raises a brow before turning the music up a notch, just for spite and then down so that she can hear him and speak above the notes.
The sound of music draws Harry to the lobby, and when he sees Sarah, he breaks into a grin and wanders, not too fast, her way. "I had no idea it was so late in the year," he remarks casually. Which also means that he hasn't found presents, but there's time yet.
Harry makes her absolutely grin and she hangs a bauble on the tree before moving to him. "It'll be Luke's first Christmas. I could hardly let it slip away from me, could I?"
"Hello Sarah. I met your future neighbor fellow." But just talking to Sarah is enough to keep him in a good mood, even if he sounds like he's trying to poke her. He wouldn't want to hurt her. He's just curious.
"Alan?" Sarah gives a nod. "I met him as well. He seems a decent fellow, doesn't he?" She, on the other hand, is not sure what to say about it. She has met him, of course, but she doesn't know much about him.
"All I want for Christmas is you." Ianto smiles and holds out the stack of boxes. It's increasingly clear that instead of a suit, he is wearing a very cute Christmas sweater. "Take the two from the top, please?"
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He stops by the tree, touches a branch, then contorts to look at it closer. "Plastic!" he announces finally. A glance at Sarah Jane, mischief in his eyes. "Plastic forests of Sicanius Deux?"
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"Not quite." She smirks. "Plastic tree of the Hotel's Basement, actually. I thought the place could use some brightening for the Holls."
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He turns his attention to Sarah Jane, "What're you doing? Christmas isn't for months yet." He's lost track of time, and is happily living in a place of mind that isn't the festive season, the glass of wine that is almost permanently in his hand might have something to do with it as well.
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"It's in a week."
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"Hello, Harry."
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