Marie Delacourt: Marie moves quietly about her little apartment, putting little faux evergreen wreathes around the bases of Christmas tree scented candles. A little round table has been set up in the corner of the room and covered with a beautiful gold table cloth, the hem beaded and tassled. Atop this she is now begining to set up a small Nativity scene.

Troy Lawrence: He stayed home yesterday...which is to say, he stayed at Marie's. Too much of a mood to go out, other then a meeting at 1:00 in the afternoon. Today, he has decided to do the same, at least for the morning. He's sitting on the divan, a notebook computer resting in his lap as he reads through his morning email. Occasional glances go to Marie as the apartment gets Christmas'd out, a little smile on his face when he looks up, occasional shakes of his head in amusement.

Marie Delacourt: She sets the baby Jesus very tenderly into the manger, one slim finger touching its tiny face. The figures are old and care worn but clearly mean the world to the girl. Smiling, she stands and moves to the couch, gliding in a swirl of black satin, her long, lean form skimmed by a lovely, ankle sweeping nighty: this one is CLEARLY a nightgown, given the little peeks of flesh visible through the lace at decolatage.

Troy Lawrence: "You know, it is just a little bit early for Holiday decorations," he observes with a smile. He's dressed in a tank-top undershirt and his slacks, for the record, dark socks covering his feet. "Most people wait until Thanksgiving, at least."

Marie Delacourt: She laughs softly, flushing. "Christmas is my favorite holiday. It is my mother's as well." She shrugs and slides up onto the couch beside him on her knees, knuckles brushing along his cheek and jaw. "And I am a little homesick."

Troy Lawrence: "Ahh." He nods slightly, looking in her direction. "I'm sorry you're homesick...though I do not blame you. I imagine this is a place worlds different from home."

Marie Delacourt: "Rather. At home I do not have Shadow Lords sending me flowers, nor Grand Elders looking to make me a virtual queen. At home I do not have noble, headstrong Lawyers falling head over sensible heels in love with me." She smiles softly, blue eyes meeting his.

Troy Lawrence: He smiles at that, pushing the laptop shut. "I believe the sensible heels are your domain, my dear. As to the rest...true, I would imagine that not be the case."

Marie Delacourt: Smiling, she takes the laptop gently from him and turns to set it on top of the coffee table. She turns back to Troy slowly and does something that seems, for how wide her eyes get, to surprise her as much as its likely to surprise him. She gathers up her nightgown, lifting it up onto her thighs, and straddles the young Lawyer's lap, her eyes on his.

Troy Lawrence: He blinks, then his eyes widen...yes, he is surprised by the sudden gesture indeed. His hads come to rest around her waist, eyes casting up to look at her. A moment's pause, and then he clears his throar. "Well."

Marie Delacourt: "Craven knows of our...engagement. I saw him last night when I stopped for dinner after rehearsal. He was dining with a man named Ingvar Urgahaldt," she murmurs, voice breathy as she frames his face with her hands. "Craven would like to meet with you love."

Troy Lawrence: He reaises a brow, familiarity entering his features at mention of Ingvar. "I see. And did Mr. Craven state what he wish to meet with me regarding?"

Marie Delacourt: "No he did not." She shakes her head lightly and leans forward to brazenly brush her lips over his.

Troy Lawrence: Those lips instinctually react, chin tilting up to turn the brush into a brief kiss. "And he was with Ingvar, you say."

Marie Delacourt: "Yes. And another young man with rather...bold...eyes, named Corbin Justice."

Troy Lawrence: He shrugs that name off...no familiarity there. "Mr. Urgahaldt is an honorable man, even if his business is often not. That Mr. Craven was with him...I don't know whether to be more trusting of Craven, or less trusting of Ingvar." Most likely a joke...gooood deadpan, though.

Marie Delacourt: "Perhaps it would be best to be cautious of both?" she slips from his lap reluctantly and curls at his side. "Craven has shown an unseemly interest in me, but for all that I believe he could be a good allie."

Troy Lawrence: A quirk of his lips, and he nods a little bit. "We shall see. I am most interested, I must confess, in what he has to say."

Marie Delacourt: "As am I." She nods and stands, stretching up onto her toes with a little wince and a sigh before gliding towards the kitchen. She sets about making two cups of rich coffee.

Troy Lawrence: He watches her head off into the kitchen, an arm stretching out to rest against the back of the couch. "I have heard that the Lords are numerous here in the City."

Troy Lawrence: "Becoming so, I mean."

Marie Delacourt: "That is regretful. The last thing this city needs is deceit on top of tragedy. I do not trust the Shadow Lords. Even a thing as simple as lust can have a second, less clear reasoning."

Troy Lawrence: "Everything does, with them." He nods with a frown. "I have yet to meet a Shadow Lord I truly trust, of course. We will have to see if that changes. Certainly this city has quite a uinque take on things."

Marie Delacourt: "You will not like Craven I do not think. He is as his name suggests." She chuckles and glances up at Troy through a veil of her hair, smiling sweetly. "Oh! I have met your Joshua!"

Troy Lawrence: "Oh?" He smiles a little. "Excellent. It is good that you are meeting my pack. Coil is a good man...we work well together." A little grin, remembering a certain Shadow Lord who found what it meant to anger the Peace Eagle Pack.

Marie Delacourt: "He is...gay," she asks softly, moving fluidly into the livingroom with two heavy mugs of coffee in hand.

Troy Lawrence: A momentary pause, and he frowns a bit. "The rumors say so. I have not...addressed them with him." He reaches out to take a mug from her, leaning up to kiss her. "Thank you, dear."

Marie Delacourt: She returns the kiss softly. "He is grieving, deeply I think, for all that he seems to have pushed it down, burried it. I said something to the effect that she must have been an amazing woman and he said, and I quote: 'Yes, HE was.'"

Troy Lawrence: A little grunt, and he sips at his coffee. "It is his business, not mine." It clearly bothers him, though he's not willing to address it.

Marie Delacourt: She strokes Troy's hair tenderly before smoothing her fingers down his face. "Perhaps it was simply the one? Perhaps it was love which has no reasoning in it, yes?"

Troy Lawrence: "Perhaps." He shrugs. "It is done with now, one can hope."

Marie Delacourt: "Whomever it was...He died. Be gentle with your omega, my love."

Troy Lawrence: "Of course, Marie." He nods. "I would not mock my packmate's pain, however unnatural the reason for it is."

Marie Delacourt: "I know you would not mock him." She settles in at his side, sipping carefully at her coffee. "I do not understand the urge to be with your own gender. It seems wrong somehow, but if one can love that deeply, then perhaps it is part of Gaia's plan as well, hmm?"

Troy Lawrence: "I...cannot accept that, Marie." He shakes his head with a frown. "It is unnatural, inappropriate, and frankly revolting to me. But, as with many things, I will tolerate it."

Marie Delacourt: She nods and gazes up into his face. "I told Craven that we are engaged. i hope that that was not out of line, but I could figure no other way to say that i was claimed. Saying that we are dating did not seem appropriate."

Troy Lawrence: He nods a little bit. "That is fine, my dear. I have no problem with the word being spread of us being engaged."

Marie Delacourt: She smiles beautifully, dazzlingly up at him. "I am glad."

Marie Delacourt: "You do realize that if the papers get wind of it there will likely be a story run on the handsome, no longer available assistant DA."

Troy Lawrence: "Ahh, my love..." He chuckles. "No District Attorney can ever have a problem with his name in the papers."

Marie Delacourt: "Even if it is that they are speculating on the swiftness of our engagement? We have been seen in public together precisely once. There will talk about my being with child."

Troy Lawrence: A shrug. "Let tabloids talk. The key, Marie, is then to sue for slander, if they misstep a single letter. And when they comment, I will merely tell them it was a very private courtship."

Marie Delacourt: She smiles softly and kisses his jaw. "Very swift. And very, very right."

Troy Lawrence: "Indeed, my dear." He nods, his head turning so he can press his lips against her cheek. "Very, very right."

Marie Delacourt: She turns her head quickly to catch his lips, tongue teasing him into a long, deep kiss. "So. Are we truly going to marry then?"

Troy Lawrence: He sighs into the kiss, a hand coming up to cup her jaw. He nods after it breaks. "Of course, that was my thought. Did you have other inclinations?"

Marie Delacourt: "No." She nuzzles her face into his hand, smiling, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. "But I had wondered if this was simply a mating...or if you wanted something more then a chance to get me with child."

Troy Lawrence: "You are my mate, and my partner, Marie," he says, watching her. "That entails far more then just a child, I assure you."

Marie Delacourt: She smiles beautifully. "I am glad it is that way for you," she murmurs. "Because I fear I would claw the eyes from any woman who so much as looked at you."

Troy Lawrence: "I understand the sentiment, my dear." As if THAT wasn't the obvious statement of the week.

Marie Delacourt: "I had noticed that you seemed rather tense with gavin for reasons that had nothing to do with Sept policies."

Troy Lawrence: He frowns, and nods a little. "The man has no sense of decency or etiquette. There are certain...appropriate ways to conduct such things. Blatently acting directly in front of the man you are trying to usurp is not one of it. Not that I would have given you up in any situation...but still. He could have made an effort toward propriety, rather then be so gauche."

Marie Delacourt: "Be glad that is all he did, Troy. He could have simply taken me, mated me and claimed me."

Troy Lawrence: His lip curls at the thought. "No Silver Fang would act so dishonorably...except, perhaps, an Austere Howl." He shakes his head. "It defies all rules of etiquette and propriety. I would have surely challenged in that case."

Marie Delacourt: She strokes her slim finger over his curling lips. "It is not so unheard of, love. Especially when the kin is pure and of such a noble house as I am." She smiles and its almost a grin, coquettish and playful.

Troy Lawrence: He manages a smile at that. "Well...it is obviously done with, now, yes? One Grand Elder, put in his place."

Marie Delacourt: "I love you Troy," she murmurs, tapping his chin lightly. "You make me smile and you make me very happy. I would not trade this feeling for any thing in the world. Not even to be mother to the Sept."

Troy Lawrence: "I am honored by your decision, my love." A warm, adoring smile goes to her.

Marie Delacourt: "As well you should be." She laughs softly and kisses his neck. "Of course this means that you may not sleep here until we are wed."

Troy Lawrence: He raises a pale brow and chuckles. "An unfortunate side effect...but one I will abide by. Propriety, and all."

Marie Delacourt: "It would not do to have me pregnant before the wedding. It is going to be a very long year for you my darling."

Troy Lawrence: "I suppose I shall have to channel my desires into another, more appropriate release, then," he says with a light sigh, still smiling.

Marie Delacourt: "Are you Catholic?"

Troy Lawrence: "My father raised me without semblance of human religion."

Marie Delacourt: "Hm." She bites her lower lip. "We should make an appointment at the Church then. You need catechism classes. I was raised Catholic, if only for face value but if I were wed outside of the church my parents would die."

Troy Lawrence: A little frown. He has enough on his plate as it is. "Surely they recognize Gaia as the more appropriate entity to serve, and not a prophet in the desert two millenia ago?"

Marie Delacourt: "Gaia is present, even in the Catholic church, love. But...If you prefer not..." she shrugs and stands, gathering up her mug to take it into the kitchen and clean it.

Troy Lawrence: "It is not that, my love." He watches her. "I will learn the motions of the dogma. I merely am concern about the time spent in doing so, and how it will take me away from my job and duties at the Sept."

Marie Delacourt: "I understand," she murmurs, drying the glass and putting it away. She puts away the grinder and then begins, with sponge and softscrub to clean the counter.

Troy Lawrence: d10: Per+Emp (WP): 6,4,9,7,10,

Marie Delacourt -> Troy Lawrence: Frustrated. Litttle angry. Understanding too though.

Troy Lawrence: He rises from the couch, moving toward Marie with a slow but direct gait. A hand comes out, taking her gently by the shoulder, and turns her to face him.

Marie Delacourt: She stiffens slightly and fights it for a brief, heart stopping moment and then turns, small hand bracing against the counter.

Troy Lawrence: A strng hand comes out, getnly titling her shi upward, as he stares down into her eyes. "If you wish me to, Marie, I will do this."

Marie Delacourt: "It is my wedding. It is the most important moment of my life," she murmurs. "But your duties to Sept and pack come before my wish for a white dress and beautifully decorated cathedral."

Troy Lawrence: "My duty is to you as well," he says. "Consider it done."

Marie Delacourt: She smiles slowly, her eyes lighting up in her lovely face as she gazes mutely up at him.

Troy Lawrence: A little, main smile. "I understand the concept of sacrifice and compromise. And I know this is important to you...so it is done."

Marie Delacourt: "It is only once a week, on Sunday, two hours out of your day. One for church and one for class,' she whispers, blinking away happy tears. "And perhaps, if we are careful, you can sleep here now and then."

Troy Lawrence: He nods a little. "Two hours per week, I can handle, my love."

Marie Delacourt: "I love you," she whispers, rising up on point to kiss his lips.

Troy Lawrence: "I love you too, my dear." He leans into the kiss, a strong, mimaculately groomed hand coming up to cup her face as he meets the kiss.

Marie Delacourt: "Take me to bed," she whispers softly.

Troy Lawrence: He smiles and nods, reaching down to slip his arms under her and pick her up, heading off to the bedroom. ((And fade...))