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[ripher]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME: GILES

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[rationalism]

yeah i'm just a little mopey, a lot of eating cereal in bed vibes, you know?

didn't mean to ruin the mood 🎺🎺 (i couldn't find a trombone emoji)

[ripher]

Nonsense. It's as much a time of year for moping as it is for tinsel and garish displays of indulgence. We Brits are rather good at being miserable at Christmas. Resulted in all the ghost stories and so on.

Would you like some company?

[ A beat. ]

Not necessarily in bed.

[rationalism]

[ she almost cries at ghost stories because she has plenty of those they're part of the problem. ]

i would, yes

[ripher]

Are you actually in bed?

[ Just checking. ]

[rationalism]

[ she sends him a selfie of herself in bed, in flannel pjs and a stolen hoodie, holding up her cereal like she is cheersing the camera. she looks a little waterlogged. ]

we can relocate to the couch dw i wouldn't hit on you at christmas

[ripher]

Well, you can if it makes you feel better.

[rationalism]

[ she is too feeling bad for herself that she doesn't want to hit on him and be politely declined so she goes for laughs instead. ]

you must be tired, because you've been running through my mind all day

[ripher]

All the more reason to go back to bed.

[rationalism]

are you hitting on ME rupert?

[ripher]

Perhaps. Especially if it makes you feel better.

I'll be with you shortly.

[rationalism]

see you then.

[ well now she has to get cute??? or at least put the milk away. the maids bring it to her in a little carafe and she always feels bad not drinking it all so she will eat five bowls of cereal to get to the end but she realizes she can make the englishman a cup of tea!

she turns her electric kettle on, makes the bed slightly less rumpled, and rinses out her mugs in the bathroom sink so she can set two on a tray with the milk and a shaker of sugar and a little squeeze bear of honey. her cereal boxes are shoved away in the dresser and she finger combs her disheveled curls.

there is a thud and a yelp before she opens the door with a small smile. behind her a tower of books had tipped over. ]

Hi.

[ripher]

[ Giles takes his time; he's sure that Grace won't thank him for arriving too early, considering the last minute arrangement. It gives him an opportunity to stop by the library on his way across the house to her room, arriving in time to hear the last of her tidying.

When she opens the door, he gives her a wry and apologetic smile, assuming that the now fallen tower was partially his fault. He's at least dressed for a casual morning, light on the tweed, sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows. ]

Hello. [ He holds up a book for Grace to see, the product of his library stop -- a slightly battered and dog-eared copy of The Moons of Jupiter by Alice Munro. ] I remembered that I meant to recommend this.

[rationalism]

[ her cheeks are a little flushed from running around, but her smile brightens when he offers her a book. she tries to hide her eagerness as she casually reaches for it. ]

I've never read any of her short stories.

[ a beat. ]

Oh, come in please.

[ she steps back from the door to gesture him into her marginally tidier room. the bed is made, a blanket thrown across it rumpled and askew from where she was sitting, and it looks like she sleeps on the couch just from the position of the blankets and the pillows piled on one end. she gestures again at the tray of tea things. ]

I made tea.

[ripher]

[ It might be messy, but it's delightful simply because it's personal, full of her own spirit -- which seems to mostly revolve around books, an obsession close to his own heart. He hands her the slim volume and makes his way carefully into the room, hesitating for a moment before he goes to take a seat on the couch, at the other end from her sleeping nest. ]

Oh, I -- thank you. That's very kind. [ He leans over to pick up the little honey bear, examining it, and glances up at Grace. ] I think you'll enjoy them. The, um, short stories. They made me think of you. The sense of -- of independence. Of inquisitiveness.

[rationalism]

[ sometimes grace gets bitter about her independence like "thanks i had no choice," but she knows rupert means it kindly so she doesn't let that kneejerk reaction out. instead, she offers a cute anecdote. ]

One of my foster moms used to call me a nosy parker.

[ she also resists the urge to start reading immediately, setting the volume down to toss her couch bedding and pillows onto the floor on the other side of the bed. out of sight, out of mind. the kettle begins to whistle so she shuts it off and pours water into the cups. ]

I don't know how you take it and I didn't want to risk it.

[ripher]

It would mean taking your own life into your hands.

[ He offers Grace a smile to show that he's joking. ]

I'm sure it's just fine. You're too kind, really.

[ Leaning over, he accepts the cup and arranges his tea, waiting until she's done with the milk and sugar to add a little of both to his cup, stirring it while he waits for the bag to steep. He glances around the room. ]

You seem to have made yourself thoroughly at home. Do you have a, uh -- [ He nods towards the door to the bathroom and the adjoining suite. ] A neighbour?

[rationalism]

[ she shakes her head. ]

I used to room with Greer, last time, but she's with her boys now I think.

[ in truth grace didn't ask but she didn't want to be a bother either. ]

I'm sure someone will show up over there eventually.

[ripher]

Oh, well.

[ He doesn't have a right to comment on Greer's situation, knowing only a little of it through the constant hum of mansion gossip. But Giles turns a sympathetic look on Grace all the same, settling back on the couch with his arm outstretched along the back, mug of tea resting on his thigh. ]

Shame to be on your own. If you.. if you're in need of company, don't hesitate to come over. I'm sure Amy and, ah, Buffy would like to see you as well.

[rationalism]

[ three blondes. might he have a type.

she doesn't mention that she doesn't mind not having a roommate because there is no one to hear her scream from her nightmares.

instead she accepts the invitation with a smile. ]

That would be nice.

[ripher]

[ He definitely has a type. Case in point: the way he smiles back at her, more than a little boyishly helpless. He clears his throat, shifting his weight a little on the couch. ]

I have to admit, I was glad to hear from you. Even if it was a mistake. If that's, uh. If that's not too forward of me.

[rationalism]

[ his admission draws a honk of a laugh, bright and sudden, and she hastens to explain herself. ]

Sorry, I'm not laughing at you. It's just... really hard to be too forward with me.

[ she who propositioned richie as a form of barter system before he shot her down, she who propositioned elias before they'd even met, she who married alex after an 18 month bangathon. ]

Usually it's the other way around.