Supreme Court Swag! [RP for Alan Shore]

[zippyknowsbest]

[for alan_shore]
[Takes place after Day One of the Great Reshelving, yet to be written]The teakettle was screaming, it was a toss-up as to whether the stuff in the oven or the stuff on the stove would burn first, the apartment looked like a laundry basket and a bookbin had waged a messy and casualty-heavy war, her cellphone was ringing, and Alan Shore was at

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[alan_shore]

Alan was performing a balancing act of his own, juggling an armload of (brightly wrapped--he might have been hopeless at cooking and scornful of small talk, but by God, the things he could do with wrapping paper and a bit of tape) gifts and a slightly-smaller-than-life cardboard cutout of John Roberts.

"Zippy," he greeted, smile cheerful, cheeks still rosy from the cold. "I'd offer to come back in ten minutes, but as you can see..."

[alan_shore]

"It's been under than a week," Alan reminded her, a wry (or perhaps pained--after all, the skin of his tongue had recently been seared off) twist to his mouth. "I'm still..."

By turns terrified, disbelieving, and completely and utterly at ease.

He shrugged--as though that answered the question--and turned his attention to her shiny new tea flask.

"Phallic." Eyebrows raised, smirk lurking behind his lips like an actor impatient for his curtain call, Alan studied the thermos. "I suppose I can see it," he allowed, after a good thirty seconds had elapsed.

[zippyknowsbest]

"So? If you can't tell within a week, what's the use?"

She let his pleading-the-Fifth go, also absorbed in her new present. Uncapping the lid, peering inside, sniffing the thermos' interior.

"It's as phallic as an Apollo rocket," she said, mostly into the thermos. "If you can't see it it's probably because it's put out your eye."

The thermos was recapped and set back down, so that she could take a sip of her own tea. "Thank you for my present, Alan."

[alan_shore]

Alan's formerly handsome scoop of ice cream was looking decidedly runny; it wouldn't be long before it thawed into regular old cream. Picking up his fork, he attempted to salvage what he could.

"Mmm. My pleasure," he said, swallowing. "Think of me whenever you raise it to your lips."