The Woman

There were very few things Irene enjoyed more, truly, than a good, comfortable lie-in. Particularly one with company, of course, but that came with its own, 'sometimes the people we love have terrible habits and like getting out of bed promptly,' problems.

(And sometimes that just necessitated the formation of a compelling argument before caffeine, was all.)

Which was why, when Irene barely stirred into consciousness at the first tickle of sunlight this morning, she fairly immediately snuggled right into Amaya. Lazy morning time could be precious, cuddling could be resisted (though doing so in earnest seemed to be a thing of the distant past, for the most part), and arguments -- non-verbal ones, at least, in the form of curling her body into Amaya's and draping a leg to keep everyone snugged up -- needed to be made.

Of course, had she made a verbal argument for staying in bed all morning, it would have been immediately apparent that today was no ordinary Wednesday.

Surely that discovery would be incredibly welcome, and perfectly fine with everyone in this bed once it was made.

[for that gal who LOVES truth day!!!]

Irene hadn't realized how much she'd missed her city until she was back in it.

And while she kept reminding herself, lest she get swept away in it all, that this wasn't her London...you know, it was close enough. Everything seemed to be right where she'd left it, even if this was a different universe, technically. It threatened to hurt, when she caught the Eye or the Spire or the Bridge in her sights, and it probably would later. But for right now, it was just...warm, and exciting, and like coming home.

And, admittedly, a large chunk of that might be the company. Irene hadn't said so and likely wouldn't, but without Amaya to show around the city -- and, let's face it, at least metaphorically hold her hand a bit -- she wasn't sure whether this trip would have been pleasant for her. It might not have even occurred to her to try without the option to bring Amaya, honestly.

As walkable as the city was, they'd already hit the Christmas market at Hyde Park (as though Irene would allow them to visit without Amaya getting a good look at local modern craftsmanship in addition to the centuries-old architecture), and as though her feet had a mind of her own, they'd made their way to Belgravia from there.

Which, really, was what Irene had come here for, wasn't it? This was going to be the hardest part.

"If you tilt your head a bit, you'll see Big Ben from here," Irene offered, pointing a gloved hand to indicate a sliver between the posh rowhouses they were passing, where the clock tower could be seen. "Or, well, technically Ben's the bell; the tower itself is named Elizabeth, for our last Queen."

Stalling, so she didn't have to explain why she'd taken them down some random, wealthy-looking street? Psh.

( taking a walk down memory lane )

[preplayed with the ever-lovely special_rabbit. NFB, NFI, OOC welcome, and to all a good night.]

Was it a date, strictly speaking, if you'd spent the entire day together? Irene fancied she'd found another loophole there, though she was also much too pleased (and, admittedly, a bit too tired) to dwell on any psycho-romantic victories achieved this Thursday. There had been a wee spot of hiking early on, because apparently that was just the done thing around here, followed by what Irene firmly felt was the vacation find of the century: real-deal, not-for-children go-karting.

Not only had she been able to nose around the big muscley fast cars she'd never be able to have on the island (it was beside the point that Irene didn't really know how to drive a big muscley fast car, nor had she ever driven a vehicle on the right side of the road at all), but it had -- as she'd hoped -- given Amaya more than a little opportunity to get a good look at some small engines, and if Irene knew anything (and she thought she did), there were hopefully some figurative, inspired gears turning now.

And now, dinner at a brewery, chosen perhaps for the sheer number of foods on sticks on offer. Irene had considered going back to the room and changing out of the jeans and trainers and ponytail she'd been sporting all day, and into something more -- well, her, and seeking out something with linen tablecloths. But there was something more than a little appealing in just staying with the same sort of vibe they'd enjoyed all day, wasn't there? (And there was a tiny, secret part of her that was always pleased and flattered and warmed by the way Amaya's attention didn't exactly...evaporate, when she was dressed like this. She loved her armor, but maybe she didn't always need it.)

"Have you been anywhere they don't do food on sticks, full stop?" Irene wondered, once they were settled at a table with drinks. It seemed completely impossible, now that Irene'd had her eyes opened to the ubiquity of be-sticked food, as long as you took a liberal enough approach to the concept.

[for the blacksmith I've modded all over this post.]

Okay, so now Irene had had the perfect sex pollen week, thank you.

Yesterday had been quite...busy, really, and had stretched not only through all of Friday, but well into the earliest hours of Saturday as well. And what a note to end the week on!

Irene could tell, as soon as she woke, that the pollen wasn't affecting her anymore. She was still herself, but that persistent itch had left.

That was not the only thing Irene noticed upon waking.

"Oh, hello there," she murmured, sitting up and surveying her own rather drastically different body. "Been a minute, this one."

Great morning to wake up with not one but two friends, too, in light of this change.

[for the two who slept over!]

No one had drunk themselves under a table in milkshakes, or cut off their own leg with a haphazard axe throw, or even turned themselves into a rabbit in a clearly deliberate move. No, no, the day had finally arrived, and Irene was just about as happy as she possibly could be.

She would be encouraging multiple stops, of course, but she also was more than intelligent enough to know that this would probably all benefit from a nice slow start, in a nice quiet boutique where Irene already knew the owner and could easily bribe people to mostly leave them alone.

"Mmmm," she sighed upon entrance to the store, clearly thrilled to be back in her element. "I do so love the smell of silk in the afternoon."

An unnecessary, silly comment, of course -- silk generally did not have much of a scent -- but then again, Irene so rarely had shopping companions to whom she could make unnecessary, silly comments, so allow her this indulgence.

[for the SHOPPING BUDDY!!!! and NFB due to distance!]