[Got it. Ginny glances up with a crease between her brows that immediately smooths when she recognises the man in front of her. Well, recognises vaguely, you see a lot of faces on the network.]
[She grins, accepting the packages and trying to figure out how best to repair the tear in her shopping bag. Magic would be easiest, of course, but she's not all about drawing her wand in front of almost-perfect strangers.]
[Well, that does give her a bit of a cover—wand surreptitiously drawn and flicked and shoved back into her pocket and gifts put back in and perfect. Ginny stands back up as well, a good amount shorter than McCoy, and she smiles up at him.]
No shortage of accented people around here. Thanks, by the way. I didn't much fancy—
[Never quite enough time to hear what she doesn't fancy, not when the mistletoe decides now's as good a time as any for some action. There's a brief moment of panic at the back of her mind that sounds something like Harry's going to kill me or him and it's quashed by everything else. Namely, snogging. She rises up on her toes, tugs down a little on his collar to make this a bit more even, and plants one right on his lips.]
[ There really isn't a shortage of accented people around; he's one of them, after all, even if his is Southern and not British. That said, the kiss is definitely distracting and effectively ruining his train of thought.
Dammit, he's 31. Why is this happening to him? 8( ]
[It's okay, Bones, she's a lot more legal than she looks. >>; She's also a lot better at this than her brothers might like but thank Merlin her hands are staying right where they should be, collar and shoulder and nowhere lower. She's got a boyfriend, you know, she saves the wandering for him.
Aaaaand finally she pulls away because breathing is important. Ginny looks a little less flustered and a little more exasperated than anything else, though.]
[That wand is back, of course, drawn behind her back and flicked again as she levels a glare at the mistletoe, too. It bursts into flames and ash a second later, of course. Oops.]
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[Got it. Ginny glances up with a crease between her brows that immediately smooths when she recognises the man in front of her. Well, recognises vaguely, you see a lot of faces on the network.]
Sorry, do I know you?
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Voice sounds familiar. [ here Ginny, have the gifts he picked up. ]
Leonard McCoy.
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[She grins, accepting the packages and trying to figure out how best to repair the tear in her shopping bag. Magic would be easiest, of course, but she's not all about drawing her wand in front of almost-perfect strangers.]
What gave me away, the accent?
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[ There's a slight chuckle and he stands back up. ]
That'd be it, yeah. [ Not Scottish enough to be Amy -- of course, he'd also kissed Amy earlier, so that helped. ]
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No shortage of accented people around here. Thanks, by the way. I didn't much fancy—
[Never quite enough time to hear what she doesn't fancy, not when the mistletoe decides now's as good a time as any for some action. There's a brief moment of panic at the back of her mind that sounds something like Harry's going to kill me or him and it's quashed by everything else. Namely, snogging. She rises up on her toes, tugs down a little on his collar to make this a bit more even, and plants one right on his lips.]
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Dammit, he's 31. Why is this happening to him? 8( ]
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Aaaaand finally she pulls away because breathing is important. Ginny looks a little less flustered and a little more exasperated than anything else, though.]
Should've seen that coming, I suppose.
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Yeah, probably.
[ There's a glare up at the awning. The mistletoe doesn't even have the decency to look frightened. ]
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First curse?
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He's just. Going to focus on her again. ]
Well, there was the Christmas music.
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I reckon that was bound to happen, anyway. It can get fairly festive around here.
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That's true. Suppose this one sort of counts as the first I've been directly involved in.
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It was my first too, a while back.
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[She resettles her bags in her arms as the memory of last year's mistletoe curse comes to her—and who she'd kissed with another armful of gifts.]
A friend of mine—he went home a few months ago, though—he arrived on a day people kept trying to decapitate other people. Now that's a welcome.
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[ And he can't even stay inside if that starts happening. Perils of being a doctor. ]
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[She frowns at him briefly.]
This place doesn't need much reason to do anything. But if it makes you feel better, I don't think anyone properly died.
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[ Though yes, that does make him feel better. ]
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