Not sure if oneshot or will continue… but all I will say is Jennifer Morrison in a mothertrucking tux. All the world’s arguments for why this shouldn’t have been written are invalid.
"Here I thought the savior could ward off any evil."
Lana couldn’t help but bring her hand up to her face to try and conceal the fact she was chuckling as she watched her blonde colleague’s reflection in the gargantuan mirror embedded in the wall. As it would seem, the savior could defeat any spell except for the infamous Curse of the Vicious Half Windsor Knot.
"It’s been a while, okay? It looks so much easier when guys do it. Or when you do it on guys."
Struggling not to burst out laughing uncontrollably, the brunette pulled out a mental note that said that whenever Jennifer was frustrated, her wording became rather unfortunate. Like that time when she’d said something along the lines of 'If I have to walk through that burning door with you practically plastered on my back one more time, my pants are going to catch fire for real.' Oh yeah, that one had stuck with her for a few weeks. Especially Ginny seemed to be mastering the art of bringing these little mishaps up continuously. 'Oh look, we'll be selling candles tonight. I wonder if there will be any more pantyncidents…' Well, Lana hadn’t been there in person for that line, but had she been, there was no doubt a high five would have followed.
Several awkward seconds and a flustered blush later, the very misinterpretable meaning sank in. “I-I mean, I don’t exactly dress like this on a daily basis,” Jennifer muttered, pouting at her reflection.
"No, only on special occasions." Only when you’re trying to impress, she thought and smirked, which brought a suspicious glare to Jen’s face as she continued to fumble with the mess of a tie around her neck. Fortunately enough, the eye-to-mirror-to-eye contact seemed to render the blonde’s lasers useless. “Let me help,” Lana said (and god that smirk would never go away, would it), finally deciding to take pity on the younger woman. She casually strolled over just to be waved away and shooed.
"I can do it," Jen whined. There was that pout her co-stars had long before labeled as adorkable, the one she would always make when she was trying to get people to do what she wanted (by making them feel guilty about not complying). Manipulative little creature, almost worse than Henry himself. It also didn’t work on some people once they realized the act.
"I know you can, eventually. Didn’t anyone ever tell you there was no ‘I’ in team?”
"There’s a ‘me’ though, if you jumble it up," the blonde replied to the ceiling and with a light sigh allowed Lana to take over the reins. Longer end over shorter, underneath to one side and to the other… "Is it true?"
"You and feathers. That they remind you you are where you’re supposed to be. Is it true or did you make it up for the audience?"
The brunette frowned, wondering whether she should feel insulted that Jennifer had just, albeit indirectly, called her a liar. She brought one end of the tie up, examining the black thread. “It’s true. Feathers have been a better guide to me than any teacher.” Upon closer inspection, black didn’t fit Jennifer at all.
She did look breathtaking in it, though.
"Isn’t that a little blasphemous? How about parents?"
And loosen the knot and pull the longer end down through. “Parents are never your guide. Friends and support, yes, but they lead your way on a path that’s subjectively the 'best you can take'. Real guides help you walk a path that’s simply…” Adjust, take in the sight, adapt. She took a step back and observed the fruits of her labor without actually looking the blonde in the eye. “Yours.”
"So you think everybody’s got a guide?"
For the first time, Lana stopped to wonder why exactly was this conversation even taking place. She found the answer immediately upon looking up. Either there was a second level to adorkableness™ whose existence she hadn’t been aware of, or there was something genuinely sad in the way Jennifer waited patiently for some kind of response, head tilted ever so slightly to the side as if there were something to the angle that would help her see what she normally couldn’t.
Lana took her time contemplating her options. She was taken aback a little; she wasn’t used to getting philosophical around Jen, but then, for a split second, she just looked so lost. Well, plain old truth sounded good enough in this case. “Sure. It’s just that not everybody knows where they’re hiding.”
Jen took a deep breath and looked herself up and down in the mirror. Once she decided her attire was absolutely flawless, her usual bubbly smile reappeared as if nothing had ever happened. “Thanks for fixing that. We should go, though; apparently there’s a couple of girls wearing Evil Regal T-shirts and Raphael is slightly worried they’ll feed us all poisoned apples if you don’t show up real quick.”
Somehow, the brunette doubted there was a reason for both of them to grin like they did, but she didn’t object. Instead, she gestured towards the hallway. “Lead the way, Monsieur Bond.”
And Jennifer winked.