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aqua velva freak
averyhasagun wrote in milliways_bar
For lack of a better way to put it, Paul has never really done Christmas. Spirits are generally high in California, yes, but the fact that there's no snow tends to put a damper on things. To his credit, however, he has gone holiday shopping.

(Also to his credit, he's dressed very nicely today - black slacks, light blue button-down shirt, black jacket with glasses tucked into the breast pocket, paisley neckerchief - which has made him rather self-conscious, not that you can pick up on that immediately.)

From the door, he heads straight to the bar to drop off a number of relatively well-wrapped presents.

For Doc Scurlock, Paul's self-annotated copy of Of Mice and Men, wrapped in brown paper, with a few words (Enjoy. - Paul) written on the tape.

Kate Warner's present comes in an Aqua Velva blue laundry basket: a PONG console. The attached note? I won that game. And then, a little more seriously: Thank you for everything. Hope the holiday season brings you more tidings of joy than you need. - Paul

Medusa's present is small, but wrapped carefully in shiny silver wrapping paper. Inside is a model taxicab, onto which Paul has taped a small, just barely recognizable drawing of Medusa herself.

For Tony Stark, a yellowed badge with the words I AM NOT AVERY emblazoned on it. A piece of paper is tied to the pin, reading: Merry Christmas, you sonofabitch.

The last things are for Artemis. One, a copy of Howl (the book marker is to Part III), and a very prettily bound copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. There is a quasi-note attached: Merry Christmas, despite your not celebrating it. If you're still up for dinner (is that a weird thing to say, he wonders) I have the reservations; I'll be around the bar. See you soon, Paul. (He feels the note is distinctly inadequate. However, he is not sure how he would rephrase it, and so leaves it alone.)

He stares at the bar a moment longer before sitting down and getting himself a glass of water. Botherable, if you don't mind slight nerves.

tiny tag: paul avery

ooc: mun presence will be on and off all day, but post open for tags~



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Artemis is never one to pay much attention to the calendar, on her side of the door or any other. When she comes into the bar, it's fresh after having taken the girls out for a run. Her hair is a tangled mess (more so than usual) and her clothes are covered in sand and dirt. She stops off at the bar for a glass of water and gets presented with...well, presents.

The scarf makes her smile--she'd put it on now if she weren't such a disaster--and so do the books, although the note turns her face a pretty shade of pink. She takes one look at her clothes and bolts for the stairs.


Fifteen minutes later, she comes back down a bit more sedately. Her hair is pulled into an almost orderly ponytail over one shoulder (though it's still a little damp). She's traded in her play clothes for a green dress and silver shoes. (She isn't sure where either item came from; they were just in her closet as if they always had been. But given that the dress is modest enough for her to feel comfortable and her shoes are low enough that she doesn't think she'll trip, she's not about to look a gift Bar in the mouth.)

She makes it down the stairs without falling, then heads over to Paul's seat, trying not to fidget too much with the jacket draped over her arm.



"Hi."

Somewhere between then and now, it seems that Paul has found bits of his composure. Because when he looks over, he doesn’t drop the glass of water in his hand, and is able to respond with a perfectly level, “Hi.” Turning slightly, he gives the glass back to Bar with an appreciative pat (if she had a face, it’s a good bet she would be rolling her eyes and shooing him off) before offering Artemis a smile that falls halfway between sheepish and mildly confident.

“Merry Christmas.”

Beat.

“You look - really nice.”

And acting before an awkward silence that was lurking nearby is able to do its job, he clears his throat, stands up, nodding at the front door.

“Ready to go?”

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

Artemis resolves not to look down at her shoes, even if they are sparkly.

"Thanks."

Said resolve doesn't stop her from blushing, though.

"Just show me the way," she says, slipping her jacket on.

"Yes, ma'am."

A quick grin, and he ushers her to the door.

Tony is infinitely amused by this, and tends to take expletives as terms of endearment, so when he strolls into the bar after a mun induced hiatus, again he just sits down next to Paul and smirks.

"Was there actually confusion?" he drawls.

"Between my good looks and your ugly mug, I'm not sure there could be."

He just went there.

-- He means it all in affection/jest/something, we assure you.

Tony just gives him a Look behind the sunglasses.

"Ouch. I'm so wounded," he deadpans. "Whatever will I do."

Perfectly cheerful: "You could sit down and keep a man company."

And Tony does, feeling pretty damn good (of course, who wouldn't when you're Tony Stark, unless someone is trying to kill you).

"So how goes your holiday season, Paul?" he replies. "I'm sure it's a page turner."

"Not bad at all," Paul nods. "I mean, for starters, I am no longer suffering from emphysema."

"Always a plus," he replied. "I'm working on that no longer being a closet alcoholic concept."

"The closet part, or the alcoholic part?"

"Both, though one is easier than the other."

"Of course."

Beat.

"What else is new?"

"Not much. Spending a lot of time in tropical locations."

A shrug.

"Then the usual saving of the world."

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