private PSL

[death_glare]

[ If Grell had expected William to be oblivious to her activities, she was sorely mistaken. He'd come from his office multiple times that day, looking to have a word with her about proper office behaviour, timely submission of forms, and the coffee carafe from the break room, that she'd happily emptied but failed to refill. Each time, he'd been met with an empty desk, even though he'd seen her minutes before. And when questioned, Knox just brushed him off like it was no big deal - he'd finished his own work for the day and wasn't staying overtime, big plans for the evening and all that.

So, the next time William caught a glance of bright red slinking past the frosted windows of his office, he made an executive decision - quickly teleporting himself in the doorway of the office, appearing just before she attempted to leave... ]

And where are you sneaking off to this time?

Comments

[untodeath]

[ Christmas gifts would have her swooning - but William's question stops her just short. Face in her hands, she's left blinking contemplatively. ]

No, but from what I'd seen of her mother's Cinematic, I'd guess she was born late spring... I suppose a vague idea is better than none.

[death_glare]

Perhaps she's eight months, then.

[ They will have to pick an appropriate date when that time of year comes along. ]

When was yours?

[untodeath]

My birthday? Huh, we never did share that about ourselves, did we?

[ A hum. ]

August 2nd. Why do you ask?

[death_glare]

Just things I believe we should know, now. She'll want to celebrate ours when she's older, anyway.

[ The more birthdays there are to celebrate, the more cake this is to be eaten! ]

Mine was January 12th.

[untodeath]

[ Well, that has Grell beaming, actually. It's no secret that she's always wished to be closer to William, and it's finally happening - rapidly, at that! And perhaps he's genuine in saying that he wishes to know for Rosalind's sake, but it will be years before she'll ask. So, perhaps he's desired it, as well.

Setting aside the clothes she's been clutching to, mid-fold, she joins his side. Leaning against the bed, she reaches out to brush a knuckle down the baby's cheek. ]

Right then. What your favorite color?

[death_glare]

[ He hadn't expected her to move on to other random questions, but he supposes now is as good a time as ever to get to know one another better. ]

Blue, I suppose? It was never something that played a big role for me.

[ He turns towards her, giving her traveling outfit a glance over. ]

I don't need to ask you the same.

[untodeath]

[ Chuckling, Grell shrugs. ]

You might find that will change, now that you won't be so restricted in your palette choices. Blue would suit you, though. A nice navy.

[ Idly, she straightens a lapel of his waistcoat. ]

Do you have a favorite flower?

[death_glare]

I would be willing to try that.

[ Even for William, the black suit began to become just another part of the monotony. ]

Not particularly. Yourself?

[ Though he can wager a guess. ]

[untodeath]

You already know it's the rose.

[ She scrunches up her nose adoringly, as she reaches out to bop their child's with a fingertip. ]

[death_glare]

I assumed as much. Honestly, is there anything you like that isn't red?

[untodeath]

[ The redhead's gaze ventures wayward in thought. ]

Corduroy. It's unforgivable, no matter what color it is.

[death_glare]

[ If William was one to laugh, he may have gotten a chuckle there. ]

I cannot see you wearing corduroy, anyway.

[untodeath]

Well, thank God.

[ That gets a lopsided smile out of her, though! ]

I think I know your animal of choice, at least. Pigeons, right?

[death_glare]

Yes. Though I doubt you know the reasoning behind it.

[ He reaches out, letting Rosalind grip his finger. ]

[untodeath]

[ With a knit of the brow, Grell cants her head. ]

But I'd like to.

[ She mutters, resting a hand on the other's shoulder. ]

[death_glare]

[ He allows Grell to lean on him, his finger gently shaking Rosalind's hand about. ]

My daughter liked to go to the park and feed them.

[untodeath]

[ That has her falling silent. Lips working into something of a frown, she shifts about, resting her temple atop that hand. ]

You lost her, you'd said. What happened, Will?

[death_glare]

[ He shakes his head, leaning over to scoop their baby up and place her in his lap. ]

Another time. I want to focus on her, now.

[untodeath]

[ When he moves, it forces Grell to sit herself upright. ]

Of course.

[ Breathing a quiet sigh, she pets a hand over the girl's soft head, leaning in to place a kiss atop her head.

She's moving to get up, then. Go about putting away their belongings, once more. ]

[death_glare]

[ There's silence for awhile, save from the cooing and gurgling Rosalind is doing. William eventually looks up to see Grell hanging up clothes in the wardrobe. He frowns. ]

Did you bring any dresses?

[untodeath]

[ Grell stops for a good moment before she looks back at William, question written all over her face. ]

For one that refuses intimacy, you certainly are letting on to your preferences rather early.

[death_glare]

[ That frown remains! ]

I am asking because you will need to pose as my wife. Which means acting and dressing as such.

[untodeath]

... Oh.

[ Back to cupping her cheeks, Grell is blushing rather brightly this time! ]

You're-- you're really fine with doing such a thing? I don't know, I--. I do have one.

[ Hvving left it behind in one of the suitcases - as she'd just brought it for sentimental value, not to actually wear it - she goes to retrieve it. It's a beautiful gown, one that had been given to her from Madam Red's closet. As such, it had to be a strapless one to accommodate her shoulders - and paired with a corset, of course. ]

I'll need to cover the decollete, but I do have a stole.

[death_glare]

No one is going to accept two men caring for a child together. And we do not look similar enough to claim we're family. I see no other alternative.

[ He assesses the gown, nodding. ]

That will have to suffice.

[untodeath]

[ Teeth pressing into her lower lip, Grell delays-- but she nods. ]

Well, then. We'll need to come up with a convincing story for the two of us and rehearse it. Talking won't be an option for me, and you are awful at lying.