Chapter Text
Somehow, the room had got even louder with everyone sitting down. Conversations overlapped, competing in volume until people were yelling gossip to their neighbours. Wilbur loved it, and tuned out for a second to listen to snatches of conversation.
“Did you hear about Amber, new hero this week-“
“-gorgeous dress, where did you-“
“-Rebacca’s been struggling, but-“
“-I love it here. Is there-“
“-pass the potatoes, would-“
“-I know it hurts, but its healing, look-“
“Songbird? You alright?” Quackity snapped his fingers an inch from Wilbur face, snapping him back to the moment.
“Hmm..? Oh- yes. I’m here.”
“Fabulous. Tell Lemon here why killing is often justified.” Quackity nodded over his wine glass across the table, where Ponk sighed and pulled his bandana down to better argue.
“I’m just saying that there are better ways to make your point than murder.”
“And I am interested in none of them.” Quackity spoke with the snarky assurance of someone who was already just a little bit drunk.
“I’m with Hades here, actually.” Wilbur decided fuck it, he’d join in. Who said talking about politics at Christmas wasn’t a good idea? “Murder is the most effective way to get attention.”
“Gods… you two are actually deranged, you know that?” Ponk sighed, taking a bite of potato and nudging Sam. “Hey, TB, tell our two wonderful… friends, murder is to be avoided.”
There was a pause before the word ‘friends’ that spoke volumes. Wilbur felt a smile tug at his lips as he realised yeah, they were friends here. Sure, most of them were still wearing masks, with the exception of him, Quackity, most of Tartarus and all the civilians. And they were using code names, but mostly out of respect. But… friends. Not just allies, not comrades, not quite leaders or benefactors. Friends.
Oops. He’d zoned out again. By the looks of it, he hadn’t missed too much, just that now Quackity and Sam were having a very involved discussion on how many people made it unjustifiable to demolish a building. They were rapidly circling in on there was no point at which they wouldn’t.
A crash rang out through the room, and silence descended on the crowd.
“We have arrived.”
Tommy? Slowly, Wilbur sat down again from where he’d flinched out of his chair, craning his neck to see that yes, indeed that was his brother and his friends. Tubbo had his arms crossed and was looking far more menacing than either of the other two. Ranboo was looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and was making a vague effort at hiding behind his husband.
“Hello, bench boys.” Niki grinned on her way past, nodding the three of them towards the table the rest of the villains were sat at. “Nice of you to join us.”
Tommy seemed a bit put out by his moment not being as dramatic as he’d hoped, and glared after the arsonist for a moment. Wilbur could see the smirk on her face, and knew she’d done it on purpose.
“Hey…” The raven turned to Tubbo, who shrugged and started picking his way through the tables.
“C’mon, boss man.”
Crossing his arms, Tommy stood his ground, glaring directly at Wilbur.
“I’m not going anywhere until he fights me.”
Wilbur’s eyebrows raised, and he smiled with cocky confidence. Bold move, Toms.
There were a few nervous glances from around the room, clearly from people who had never seen the two ex-Minecraft’s together.
“It’s Christmas, Toms.” Even as he spoke indulgently, there was a grin that said he was absolutely going to rise to the challenge. “I don’t want to embarrass you on Christmas.”
“Too bad. I have a lot of energy, so either you fight me, or I start flipping tables.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he grinned right back.
Raising his hands in acceptance, Wilbur stood up, winking to Quackity, who punched his arm lightly back.
“Go get him, songbird.” The shrike’s encouragement made him laugh as he raised his gaze to his little brother.
“I’m not going to go easy on you.” Wilbur tilted his head to the side, giving Tommy one last chance to back down.
“You better fucking not. Square up, bitch.”
Raising his fists, Tommy dropped into a fighting stance. Wilbur sighed, looking around the crowds with a smirk.
“I warned him.”
A faint tittering came from around the room, making Tommy scowl.
“Get over here you pussy and-“
The raven cut off, choking on his own words. Wilbur cocked his head again, smirking as the gentle notes drifted from his lips, directed solely at Tommy. His magpie trilled in joy, finally getting a chance to show off.
Neither of them moved for a few seconds, Wilbur’s song keeping Tommy rooted to the spot. Quackity tugged gently on his sleeve, and Wilbur leaned down to listen to his husband, without taking his eyes off his brother.
“Teach him a lesson, amor.” The shrike giggled softly, and Wilbur nodded with a cold smile.
Put your discs on the ground.
Tommy obeyed, bending down and setting his discs next to Ranboo’s feet.
Twirl
To Wilbur’s surprise, and the laughter of the captive audience, he pirouetted several times. Ranboo was mostly just bemused, picking up Tommy’s discs to hold them.
Go eat a whole potato, you gremlin
Tommy’s movements were curiously fluid as he walked over to the nearest table, picked up three half potatoes- apparently he couldn’t do math- and shoved them all in his mouth. Then Wilbur ended his song, and the raven started coughing.
Satisfied, Wilbur sat back down, letting Ranboo attend to his brother. Tubbo slid into a seat on his other side, grinning at the magpie’s display.
“Nice work, Siren.”
“He started it.” Wilbur shrugged, holding back laughter.
After another violent coughing fit, Tommy recovered enough to whelk across the room.
“You- fucking asshole! Weak ass pussy, can’t even fucking fight me! Get the fuck over here-“ Tommy started coughing again, and Ranboo winced, teleporting to the other side of the room and coming back with a glass of water, which he forced into the raven’s hand. “Fuck off- oh, thanks Boo.”
Chucking, Wilbur turned away from the two of them, meeting Cara’s unimpressed gaze, looking away because she had no fun in her soul, and sharing an odd moment of mutual respect with Smile. For a guy who wore a full face mask, there was something remarkably expressive about his short, impressed nod.
“Nice show, songbird.” Quackity cupped his cheek, tugging him round so the shrike could kiss him. “Kinda hot. Imagine you doing that to a hero.”
“You should watch the news more, sunrise.” Wilbur murmured back, still heady with the small rush of adrenaline.
“Oh, but why would I? I can see it live.”
They were both laughing as Tommy shoved Tubbo out of the way to sit beside Wilbur, somehow sopping wet.
“Bitch.” The raven punched Wilbur’s arm with alarming strength, still scowling like a wet kitten.
“Gremlin child.” The retort came easy as Wilbur ruffled Tommy’s hair, mocking him without restraint. “It would have been sad to watch you lose to me anyway.”
“Tubbo!” Tommy whined, tugging on Tubbo’s sleeve. “He’s being mean!”
“Don’t act like a sixteen year old, Tommy.” Ranboo tutted as he leaned across to grab a plate of carrots. “You’re better than that.”
“Yeah, sure he is.” Tubbo scoffed, pushing his mask up onto his head to eat. “Some bullying’ll do you good, Vine.”
It took Wilbur a second to identify ‘Vine’ as a nickname of Vinyl, and he felt something thrum painfully in his heart. Tommy was growing away from him, he knew that, and he knew it was best for his brother. But he could admit to himself, in private, that it was bittersweet to hear nicknames for his little brother he hadn’t made.
“See?” Wilbur got over himself in a moment, although his eyes lingered on Tommy’s face for a second. “You’re getting better though. Ever thought about training some of these kids?”
Tommy pulled a face, dousing his turkey in an unholy amount of gravy. “Don’t talk to me about training. Nope. Still don’t even want to think about it. I dunno how you do it, Will. It’d freak me out.”
“…I’m not sure either, to be honest.” The new conversation weighed a little heavier on Wilbur’s mind, and his voice dropped like he was whispering a plea for help to his brother. “Sometimes it- it’s feels so wrong. Like I- I’m doing the same shit they did to us.”
“Wilbur.” Tommy’s voice was soft, and his wing stretched around to lightly hug the magpie. “You’re doing it better. You care. That’s the important part. They never gave a shit about us. Fuck- you worrying means you’re doing it right. So don’t feel guilty, ok? You’re doing good.”
“Thanks, Toms.” Wilbur squeezed his brother’s shoulders affectionately, feeling the water drenching him soak into his own jumper. “Sorry about mind-controlling you.”
“Nah, it’s chill. More dramatic than whatever I was doing.” Tommy shrugged Wilbur off, shooting him a grin that said everything from I love you to I’m going to sneak into your room and put itching powder in your bed.
“Please don’t hurt me.” Wilbur laughed nervously, distracted by someone yelling his name from halfway down the table.
“Hey, Persephone! Persephone! Someone punch the whore.”
Someone obliged. It was Quackity, unsurprisingly, and Wilbur barely had time to give him an aggrieved look before he was being pointed to a certain pink haired, smirking arsonist.
“What the fuck do you want?” Wilbur was happy to match Niki’s energy, narrowing his eyes and grinning.
“Think I should get dessert?” In a second, her manner switched to bubbly and innocent, a sharp contrast to her aggression of a moment ago.
“Sure?” Wilbur was mostly bemused, working it out when he saw the nearly empty wine glass in front of her. Ah. Niki was drunk. “Where did Cara go-?”
“I’m here.” Cara leaned over, smiling gently, and took the glass away from Niki. “I think you should give us a minute, babe.”
“Nope, I’m getting it. C’mon baby…” Niki stood up haphazardly, tugging on Cara’s arm. The sheep hybrid reluctantly got up, nodding with a helpless smile to Wilbur on her way past. The magpie waved, amused by the two of them.
Once they were gone, Wilbur turned back to Quackity, halfway to starting another conversation when he felt a hand laid on his shoulder, and someone kissed his cheek lightly.
“Hello, my magpie. Sorry I’m late.”
Wilbur froze, then shot back Quackity a half apologetic grin. The room had fallen dead silent, aside from some of the youngest children. But the fear in the air was palpable, and he just knew the avian next to him was drinking it in.
He turned his head, beaming as he saw the ex-number one villain wearing a jumper embroidered with a fish in a Christmas hat and a wide smile on her blood red lips. Her wings were as neat as ever, and her makeup was immaculate, even under her mask. Her fiery hair was tied back in messy, high ponytail and her talons were glinting red as she tugged at her sleeves.
Standing up awkwardly, he managed to hug her without causing too many traumas to those around him, catching Aimsey’s shocked gaze and grinning. As he pulled back, he looked over her outfit, giving an appreciative nod. She did look good.
“Scarlet! Good to see you. Funny, we were talking about you earlier. As you were, everyone.” He joked, waving everyone back to their meals. Most of them did, although noticeably uneasy.
His warm greeting was genuine. They’d gotten a lot closer over these past few years, relatively of course. As she slipped out of the public eye, he’d risen to fame, and she had plenty of tips to share on being number one in the charts.
“Good things, I hope?” She grinned as she circled round the table to sit roughly opposite Wilbur, making slightly threatening eye contact with Quackity. “Hello, dearest shrike.”
“Hello, Scarlet.” Quackity’s voice was carefully even, and reminded Wilbur of when he’d seen Smile earlier. He leaned into the shrike, holding his hand reassuringly.
“It’s ok, sunrise.” He whispered, giving Scarlet a playful glance. “She’s just a friend.”
“You’re lucky I know you don’t swing that way, songbird.” Quackity seemed to have gotten over the shock fairly quickly, resting his forehead against the magpie’s briefly.
“That’s all you know.” Wilbur chuckled, then looked back to Scarlet fully, giving her a cheerful nod. She returned the gesture, clearly having been watching them fairly intensely. “It is good to see you. I’m glad you could make it, and you… wanted to.”
The invite had been there ever since he founded the Underworld, but this was the first year the hawk had actually taken him up on it. It was nice to know she trusted him enough to come somewhere outside her comfort zone. He knew Scarlet wasn’t fond of new places or people, especially when she was appearing as her villain persona. She didn’t much like crowds. Too hard to control, apparently.
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a chance to see my favourite birds.”
Even though she was smiling, and seemed genuinely happy, there was a noticeable tension to the way she held her wings. Her eyes were drawn to every loud noise, and she made no move to get herself any food. Wilbur met her eyes, worried, but she just gave a shaky nod.
“All good?”
“I’m ok. Just… nervous, I suppose.”
Oh. It was sort of funny, because this was Scarlet. Half the people in the room were still staring at her with bated breath, waiting for her to start murdering them. And she was nervous about coming to a Christmas party.
“That’s fine. You’re safe here, ok? No one fights each other here. Well, not unless you’re my dumbass brother looking for trouble.” Grinning, Wilbur studied her eyes, seeing gratitude shining in the cobalt irises and a minute nod.
“Thanks.” She took a subtle, deep breath, then grinned, forcing enjoyment over her anxiety. “Sorry about that. How’ve you been, Ace?”
She still didn’t eat, but didn’t make a big deal out of it, just resting her head in her hand and ignoring the terrified, fascinated glances from around her. Even Eret, the absolute queen of being unflappable, shuffled away a little bit.
“Alright. Are you fucking my husband?” Quackity went straight to the point, and held his composure for an impressive four seconds before laughing. “Kidding. Kind of.”
“I abandoned that one a while ago, I’m afraid to say.” Scarlet was not holding back, matching Quackity’s cheeky remark with a radiant grin. “Not that I would be at all opposed to the idea…”
“Careful, Scarlet. You’re under my roof here.” Wilbur was probably the only person here who could get that close to threatening the hawk and not immediately have his throat cut. Even so, he laughed, just to be on the safe side. He knew she couldn’t always read people exactly.
“I only wish I was a bit closer to you, my magpie.” Her eyes were alight with the thrill of their little debate, and Wilbur’s magpie chirped in pride at having made her a little happier.
“For the last time, Scarlet, you can’t buy a flock.” Quackity rolled his eyes with a smile.
“That’s no reason not to try.” She chuckled, and Wilbur frowned as he always did when the two of them spoke.
He’d worked out a decent while ago that Scarlet had gone to Quackity at some point, and offered him an alliance in exchange for… well, he still wasn’t sure. Quackity just giggled whenever he asked, and he had a feeling Scarlet would tell him a little too honestly.
Tommy nudged him, then again when Wilbur didn’t give him his immediate attention.
“Will. Will. You- you know that’s Scarlet, right?” The raven spoke in a panicked whisper, like Wilbur somehow wouldn’t have recognised her crimson tipped wings or sapphire eyes.
“Yes, Toms, she’s a friend.” He patted Tommy’s head fondly, and the raven squeaked slightly in terror.
“When was she a ‘friend’? I was not informed of this.”
Tubbo leaned over too, manic excitement mixed with the fear in his eyes.
“Is that really her?” Tubbo glanced not so subtly at the hawk, enthralled by her presence.
Scarlet had gone still, clearly a little uncomfortable at the whispers. As much as she liked feeling the general fear of any room she walked into, it was clear she wasn’t so fond of being actively noticed. Wilbur looked between the two boys, then at the hawk, raising his eyebrows.
“Do you want to introduce yourself?” He directed the question at Scarlet, who shrugged with a nervous smile. She’d changed so much.
“Sure.” Turning her gaze to Tubbo and Tommy, she narrowed her eyes, then smiled. “Bee and Vinyl? Your powers are-“
“You’re Scarlet?” Tommy spoke hurriedly, glancing to Tubbo anxiously. Wilbur was suspicious. They were definitely hiding something. Or maybe Tommy was just being a good friend and making sure Tubbo wasn’t embarrassed by having his lack of powers called out. “The- the number one villain?”
“Yes…” Scarlet studied the two of them for a moment, and Tommy shook his head, almost imperceptibly, something pleading in his eyes. “Ex-number one. I believe that title belongs to Siren now.”
“Ah, it’s Persephone to you.” Wilbur smiled. The little correction was more important than she knew. Only his friends called him Persephone. And Techno. Maybe that was the same thing.
One person he knew wasn’t coming today was Techno. For all his brother would drop by the Underworld whenever he was in the country, giving Wilbur little tidbits on how the hero agency was getting along, nothing could convince his twin to come for Christmas.
Weirdly, it wasn’t even the villainy or anything that put him off. Just ‘too many people’ apparently. Maybe he’d try going through Kristin next year… their mother would be delighted to come by.
“Ok then, my magpie. Persephone. I’m guessing Ace here is Hades?” Scarlet nodded to the shrike, who hissed with just a hint of a smile.
“Yep. Miriam’s Melinoë, wherever she’s got to.” Wilbur looked around vaguely, then gave up. She was probably somewhere with Aimsey, or planning some horrific prank on Tommy.
“Oh, how is Miriam?” The hawk’s tone was pure polite interest, something that would never fail to make Wilbur laugh. It was how she showed she was comfortable, but it did sound a bit odd when she was sitting opposite Tommy, busy using every four letter word in the dictionary to tell a story.
“She’s doing great. Gods- did you see when I took her out for the first time? Immediately got jumped by Crow and- well, it didn’t go well.”
Something in him stopped him fully explaining exactly how they’d all gotten away from that unscathed. It had been Techno, of course. He’d pretended to fight Wilbur as the magpie went to grab his daughter, and he’d remember his twins terse nod for a long time. Respect. Mercy, in some way. Protection from the evil they both still fought. Well, maybe that was a bit harsh on Phil. Maybe not.
“Oh, I saw. Excellent show.” Scarlett chuckled, and Quackity hissed again.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you it was not excellent seeing the child I’d only just let go live with him nearly fall in a river on live TV.” Quackity still seemed genuinely disturbed by the whole incident, feathers ruffling indignantly as he continued. “And this idiot didn’t even tell me until they were back at base. I had to watch the fucking news to see if my husband and sister were still alive.”
“In fairness to me, sunrise, I couldn’t really tell you in the middle of the fight.” Wilbur was trying to be peaceful, but Quackity was no in the mood to be fair to him on this topic.
“You could have fucking tried.” The shrike hissed through gritted teeth, still clearly seething over the whole affair.
“Hate to say it Wilby, but he has a point. Miriam did amazing though, no notes for her.” Tommy grinned, throwing Quackity a hopeful glance. The raven was set on earning the shrike’s affection, even though he refused the villain anything more than grudging respect. And even that was a push.
“She did wonderfully.” Quackity admitted, glowing a little with pride. “But I would have preferred for it to have been, I don’t know, when she’s an actual teenager? At least?”
“Point taken!” Wilbur held his hands up in defeat, conceding the argument. In all honesty, he’d been just as freaked out as Q over the whole affair. It turned out even male magpies had motherly instincts when they had to save their flock from falling into a river while their vengeful father tried to hunt them down.
“Good. I’m not over it.” Quackity huffed, rolling his eyes as Scarlet watched in amusement.
Across the table, Ranboo suddenly straightened, earning him concerned looks from Wilbur and Tubbo.
“Sorry- cake. Niki’s here.”
With that, he vanished into a violet cloud, to Scarlet’s considerable shock. The hawk poked one of the floating particles cautiously, then grinned, and vanished in an identical way.
A second later, an arm wrapped around Wilbur’s throat and he was pulled back against the back of his chair, choking from shock.
“Neat power. I’m keeping that.” Scarlet’s voice was as smooth as if she hadn’t been in the middle of a murder attempt, then she disappeared again, popping back into existence opposite the gasping magpie.
“What was that for?!” Wilbur rubbed his neck, aggrieved. She’d gotten her confidence back.
“Hadn’t seen his power before.” She shrugged like it was normal. “Blink, right? Some kind of… dragon hybrid? Ooh- his powers are fucked up.” Scarlet grimaced and chuckled, reaching up to feel her forehead lightly, letting out a sigh of relief. “Is that kid ok?”
“Eh, nope.” Tommy pitched in, leaning obnoxiously close to Wilbur to join the conversation. “But none of us are.”
Scarlet’s sapphire eyes pierced the raven for a moment, but this time Tommy held his ground, some sort of challenge in his glare.
Neither of them had time to say anything more before Niki returned with several cake boxes, Cara, Ranboo, and- surprisingly- Hecate. Surprising because truthfully, Wilbur hadn’t noticed his absence.
The pink haired villain was giggling as she set one box on each table, and there was something fondly resigned on Cara’s face as she stopped her girlfriend standing on anyone. Ranboo teleported over to their table, and waved Hecate over.
It was hard to see any of Hecate’s face, but there was a clear reluctance in his slow, painstaking movements, and Wilbur noticed him touching something on his wrist, almost in reassurance.
“Guess who I found not having fun?” Ranboo was clearly far too happy about this, grinning like a madman. He’d taken off his mask. “Like, I’ve got no clue who he is.”
“Hecate.” Wilbur smiled, slight concern in his greeting. Hecate did not look happy to be here. “All good?”
Hecate nodded, adjusting his goggles in a way that conveniently blocked his view of Wilbur and Quackity’s side of the table. Then he hurriedly sat down next to Smile, glanced up at the villain, and froze. It was hard to make out his question, especially through the fabric of his mask, but Wilbur was fairly sure he’d heard.
“I- is Sa- Pyro here?” Hecate spoke in a terrified voice, and fair enough, if he was an ex-hero it was unlikely there was anything good between him and villains.
“No. I’m only here as a plus one, don’t worry.” Smile barely spared him a glance, and Hecate’s shoulders visibly slumped, somewhere between disappointment and relief.
Now Wilbur thought about it, he was fairly sure Hecate hadn’t ever come to Christmas before. Or anything, really. In fairness, he was known to be a bit of a loner, wandering the tunnels at all hours and writing in his journal wherever people saw him, but still… weird.
Glancing to his other side, Wilbur noticed Quackity still staring at Hecate, puzzled.
“You weren’t kidding when you said he was odd…”
“Yeah.” Wilbur shot Hecate another concerned look. “I might ask if he’s alright later. This is strange, even for him.”
One of the only things he actually knew about Hecate was something he’d rather he didn’t. He’d heard it from Ranboo actually, the teleportation villain was normally the one who got closest to him without scaring him or being scared off.
Anyway, Ranboo had been sleepwalking, of enderwalking as he called it, a kind of state where he was aware but not fully in control of his body. And he’d seen Hecate pause his furious scribbling, reach for one of the pouches normally hanging from his waist, and swallow three or four bright blue pills, one after the other.
Ranboo said he’d heard sobbing, and Hecate had still been there when the young villain woke up for real and went to check. Still awake too. They weren’t sure if he ever slept.
So yeah. Wilbur was concerned. It wasn’t like addictions were uncommon exactly, but whatever Hecate did seemed on a different level to the performance enhancing or party drugs that were a little more normal. He should probably have a talk about it actually, but Christmas wasn’t the time. And besides, he seemed relatively sober right now. Sober, but scared.
It wasn’t his business. Not right now at least. Maybe later, in private, he’d offer Hecate some options. But right now, his and Quackity’s attention was clearly making the brunette very uncomfortable.
He cast around for a conversation, and luckily Ranboo obliged, passing around slices of… questionable looking cake.
“Amor, is this meant to be edible?” Quackity whispered to him, poking at the charred lump drenched in about double the necessary amount of icing.
“I’m not sure…” Wilbur tried stabbing it head on, and was fairly sure his fork bent on impact.
“Oh- this is… creative.” Cara’s voice was carefully polite as she tried a piece. Somehow her ‘slice’ was undercooked to the point of being a batter and icing soup. “Blink, duckling, are you sure the recipe was right?”
“Oh, I didn’t use a recipe.” Ranboo was staring at all of them with disturbing intensity, smiling brightly.
“I think it’s poggers.” Tommy was eating his happily, picking out a piece of metal and tossing it over his shoulder. “Great work, boob-boy.”
“Thanks!”
The rest of the table exchanged nervous glances, wondering how best to break the news and avoid getting tetanus from a cake.
Quackity gagged, pushing his plate away. Niki was grimacing as she took small, appalled bites. George was smiling tensely as he stared at it, as if he hoped it would just go away on its own. Scarlet had politely refused a slice, and was now looking rather smug as she stared at Wilbur, poking nervously at the thing that might be called food.
“Blink…” The magpie started nervously, not looking at the villain. “I think something might have gone wrong with the oven…”
“Oh I am fully aware. I’ve got no clue why all of you are eating this shit. I’m fairly sure it could kill god.”
Wilbur looked up in shock at Ranboo’s shit eating grin, his own cake untouched.
“You little…” Quackity’s voice was half anger and half admiration as he dropped his fork with a clatter.
“Hey, I didn’t make you eat it. But I’m glad everyone liked it!”
Wilbur noticed Tubbo giggling, and glared at him, realising he must have been in on it too. Evil children. But he had a grudging admiration for Ranboo’s sheer nerve.
“I would say there’s no way it’s that bad, but…” Scarlet laughed, staring at the ‘cake’ on Wilbur’s plate. “I like this kid’s attitude.”
“He’s a good one.” Wilbur smiled fondly, then called down the table to Ranboo. “Blink, please take this away and dispose of it in a responsible manner.”
“Sure thing.” Ranboo was far too pleased with himself, gingerly stacking plates and teleporting away every three or four to leave them somewhere.
“I have dessert!” Niki perked up, practically bouncing in her seat. Cara chuckled, leaning over to calm her girlfriend down a little by stroking her hair. Niki pouted briefly, then perked up again. “It’s probably mostly edible!”
“Well I suppose that’s all we can hope for really.” Wilbur remarked, letting Cara go to get the cake box from the the end of the table.
This was so much more than he’d ever hoped he could have.