mnt_mike | (no subject)

Christmas means many things to many people. For Mike it means food, family, and being as warm as humanly possible. So if you're looking for an explanation as to why Suite 134 is currently 85 degrees and smelling strongly of anisette, there's a your answer. As for why Mike is wearing cargo shorts, a Christmas Themed Hawaiian shirt, and headphones while tending to a rather sizable pile of cookie dough? Well...he is Mike after all.

"Later on if you wanna
We can dress like Madonna
Put on some eyeshade
And have a parade
Walkin'round in Women's Underwear"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

slayer_fray

"Well, just 'cause you don't do festive
Don't make you smarter or cooler than the rest of us
Quit trying to spoil it for everyone else."

Mel doesn't even know she's singing. She certainly doesn't know what she's singing, or why she's singing it. She's just muttering under her breath as she pulls on her boots, checks the charge on her gun and grabs her scythe from under the couch on her way...

...on her way out the do...

...wait.

"Did I forget something?"

Why is Mike making food to feed a small army?

Edited Date: 2008-12-23 04:44 pm (UTC)

From:

mnt_mike

Because it's Wednesday?

What? That's totally a plausible reason.

"I don't know, SugarPlum. Did you?"

Asks Mike without turning around. And he totally did not just work those words he just said into the tune of the song he was just singing. That was your imagination entirely.

Edited Date: 2008-12-23 04:52 pm (UTC)

From:

slayer_fray

"Nnnnhnnnn."

That was more to the tune of 'iunno' than anything else. Mel shrugs andgoes on her way, weapons all checked and secure.

"Have a good day, Babe."

From:

mnt_mike

"Am I to take that to mean you don't want your present?"

Yup...still rolling cookies.

From:

slayer_fray

Hand on doorhandle.

Math.

Not her birthday. That usually comes with flowers from Harth. Not the anniversary of their first kiss. Or their first rutting. Or 'I love you'. Or the completion of page one. She never makes it out of bed on those days. Not Valentines: yesterday wasn't her birthday. Not Tuesday, either.

There's a song stuck in her head.

'Cause it's Christmas whether you like it or not, might as well get over it.

Mel's forehead hits the door frame.

Edited Date: 2008-12-23 05:02 pm (UTC)

From:

mnt_mike

Mike smiles and continues to hum, though his humming has a slightly Smug tinge to it.

"I've got a pan due out in 30 seconds, if you know....you want to wait."

From:

slayer_fray

"It's today, isn't it?" Mel asks, not moving her head from the wall. "I still got time to go steal you something?"

From:

mnt_mike

"That depends, how long will it take you to wrangle Hugh Jackman?"

From:

slayer_fray

"Might take me a while," Mel admits.

"But if he's in bar and X-23 don't object, I can probably get Wolverine up here in half an hour."

From:

mnt_mike

Mike stops what he's doing and ponders this for a moment or two.

"I think I read about this once on the internet."

From:

slayer_fray

"You an' Wolvie going at it under the Christmas tree?"

Mel rotates her head around the spot where scalp meets wall, to look at him.

"The grid's ruttin' skitzed, sometimes."

From:

mnt_mike

He grins back at her.

"Trust me when I say that he's the best at what he does, and what he does is very very jolly."

From:

slayer_fray

"I'm never letting you near a computer again."

From:

mnt_mike

Mike laughs and tosses the ball of dough he's holding at her.
Tasty delicious uncooked cookie dough.

From:

slayer_fray

Tasty delicious cookie dough is caught and Mel sits on the floor to eat it.

Taaaasty.

"We got a plan for today?"

From:

mnt_mike

"That all depends: Do you want your present now, or later?"

From:

slayer_fray

Mel shrugs. She's never really been one for getting presents, so it's all the same.

"Whenever you're ready, Babe. How's the cooking shaping up?"

From:

mnt_mike

People not liking holidays, Mike gets that.
People not liking certain types of food, Mike gets that.

People not liking gifts....that's just crazy talk.

Mike wipes his hands on a nearby kitchen towel.

"Preeetty good. I've got the last of the cookies right here and the turkey should be done in...um..."

He leans over and eyes the clock.

"Three hours? Yeah, three hours."

But...if he's baking cookies, where's the turkey?

From:

slayer_fray

...

"You do know our stove isn't fit, right?" Mel asks. "'Less you completely irradiated it. No one's cleaned it since the explosion."

From:

mnt_mike

Mike pulls a face. Even he's not that crazy. Heck, the Loompas aren't going anywhere near that, which should say something right there.

"You suuuuuuure you don't want your present?"

From:

slayer_fray

"Didn't say that," Mel says.

"...you got me a new stove?"

From:

mnt_mike

His expression is one of wishy-washy glee mixed with the self-important-smugness that comes from keeping a secret well kept.

"Possibly? You'd have to come with me to find out.

OH and wear a blindfold."

From:

slayer_fray

Mel thoughtfully licks the remnants of dough off her fingers.

"Where'd we leave the blindfold?"

From:

mnt_mike

He is momentarily crestfallen.

"Didn't we leave it in Steph's room? That's where we had it last....er....I mean...I totally wasn't peeking and have no idea because I was blindfolded."

From:

slayer_fray

"No, I've seen it since then," Mel says. "Weren't you there when Me n' Steph were playing Batarang Marco?"

It's a dangerous game.

From:

mnt_mike

Some might say the most dangerous game, but only because they've never played Ninja Twister.

"Only when Steph needed a pee-break."

From:

slayer_fray

Mel doesn't say anything for a while.

"That explains so much."

From:

mnt_mike

"I'm sure it does."

He says with a waggle of eyebrows.

"So...We're still thinking Steph's room then for the blindfold, yes?"

From:

slayer_fray

"No, it's in your shower," Mel remembers suddenly, rolling to her feet. "Stampy had her bath yesterday."

From:

mnt_mike

"I was wondering why she smelled like Mango. Is it dry? Because if it isn't we can pop it in the microwave."

From:

slayer_fray

"Uh..."

Mel disappears into the bathroom, squelching on the still soaked bathmat.

"...no, it's spled. OK."

Tying it around her own head, she strolls out into the living room, secure in her own awareness or her surroundings.

From:

mnt_mike

Mel is serenaded by the dulcet tones of Mike banging around in the kitchen.

"Sweet! Lemme just take these out of the...oh hot!hot! oven. Aaaaaand I'll put the dough back in the fridge until laaaaaater. Then....I'll just...okay..."

The sounds cease, and the room goes completely quiet.

"Ready."

Says Mike, now standing by Mel's side with a hand on her hip.

From:

slayer_fray

Mel's hand closes over his, fingers fitting perfectly in the gaps between his.

"Am I gonna getta fight something?"

From:

mnt_mike

"Maybe, but only if one of us is very very unlucky. Hold on tight."

And with that Mike lifts Mel over his shoulder in a Fireman's carry. He often marvels at how someone so strong can weigh so little.

With the kitchen squared Mike feels safe leaving the flat. He carries her across the hall to 132. There's a brisk cold as he slides open the door to the balcony, but not quite as cold as when he then leaps off said balcony landing with a quiet thud on the Lake Area Grounds. Then it's up a couple of wooden stairs and through another sliding glass door.

The room is warm and smells heavily of Sweet and Sour turkey.

Mike places her back on her feet and whispers Merry Christmas into her ear.

From:

slayer_fray

Mel she sweeps Mike down into a deep, low kiss.

Just so everyone knows who's in control around here.

"Bernard and Tonks' place?"

She still has her blindfold on.

From:

mnt_mike

Mike very nearly swoons.

"Uh uh. Our place."

From:

slayer_fray

Somehow, without either of them coming close to falling, Mike ends up lying on the floor, and Mel, still unseeing, straddles him.

"Merry Christmas, Sexy."

From:

mnt_mike

The place isn't finished by any stretch of the term. For starters the only furniture to be found is a six foot diameter bean bag chair which at the moment occupies the center of what will be the living room. Secondly the walls will most certainly require a coat or two of paint from a can not labeled Primer. Mike would also like to point out that Mel will have her choice of room for what will be her armory, but...well he's a little distracted at the moment.

"And many happy returns."

The narration is sure he'll get around to it at some point.