Light of May ::: an original roleplay

Who: Charles & Fiona
Where: Grocery store
When: Afternoon

( 'I'll be real quick, I swear.' )

Who: Blair and Fiona
When: Mid/late morning
Where: MacCutcheon house

Fiona had been woken at five AM that morning when Bruce was getting ready to leave. He was going away for a couple days on a business trip, and he'd woken her to go make his breakfast and to temporarily alter the rules of their marital contract. Fiona had been ever the dutiful wife, keeping mostly quiet until he'd left. Usually, she lived for the times when Bruce was away. Those days were the best days. But her sister was still here. Blair had been right, Bruce had allowed her to stay - even if Fiona knew he'd been rather pissed off over the situation. She had paid for that a little, but she'd taken it as well as she could. Now he was gone, and she was hoping desperately that Blair would allow her to enjoy it. Really, she kind of doubted it.

Rather than go back to bed like she normally would have, Fiona dressed and headed to a local 24-hour grocery store. She proceeded about town with some of her weekly errands, and it was nearly noon when she returned home. She came in to the kitchen through the side door connected to the garage, arms heavily laden with shopping bags. "Blair?" she called. "Are you here?"

Who: Blair and Fiona
When: Late morning
Where: MacCutcheon house

Fiona's husband could control what she wore. Aside from a few snacks she had hidden around the house, he could control what she ate. He could control what channels were allowed on the TV, and just about every other aspect of her life. But one thing Bruce MacCutcheon could not control was what kind of music she listened to when he wasn't there. Or how loudly she listened to it. Fiona's tastes were rather eclectic, and while she did enjoy some good rock and roll, she often tended to drift towards pop and top 40 for a very simple reason. It was silly and cheerful and not particularly heavy on the mind, and more often than not she felt like she needed that. That morning she'd had a local pop station blasting as she cleaned the house, and she was rather getting into a Britney Spears song when the sound of the doorbell registered over the rest of the noise.

Fiona paused, mid-dance routine paired with a mop, and took a brief glance at her watch. It was too early for the postman, and anyway, she didn't think Bruce was expecting anything big. He was very good about telling her if she needed to wait at the house to accept a package for one reason or another. Sighing, Fiona put the mop aside, turned the radio down, and headed for the front door.

The absolute last person she would have expected to see was her sister, but there she was. Fiona's jaw dropped. Words? Had completely failed her.