slayer_fray | [Milliways: Suite 132 Suitewarming]

Lilly and Mel have out done themselves.

There's no theme to this party, no gimmicks, other than the 'welcome to our suite and please get very drunk' idea, and this aim has been faciliatated by the huge numbers of bottles of all sorts of alcohol covering the galley kitchen. The breakfast bar boasts five huge bowls of punch, the dining table is covered in assorted snacks and dips, and brightly coloured balloons cover the floor, and, despite the best efforts by a certain boyfriend to use helium for comedy voice purposes, the ceiling as well.

The door to the main bathroom stands open, and a large pile of freshly laundered towels stand on the way to the hot tub, above which a large sign declares: clothing optional.

Mel's bedroom door is shut and locked, protecting weaponry and other valuables, while Lilly's room is opened, and her Bathroom is very clearly labelled.

Out on the balcony, the barbeque takes pride of place among a vast amount of meat, just waiting to be made use of.

The centre of the living area is cleared, but a box of Twister has been placed very obviously on top of the locked entertainment centre.

Suite 132 is open for business

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Lilly gets treated to his "Are you utterly mad? I can barely remember to breathe in this crowd - not that I need to, being dead and all - much less think up a toast!" expression.

Peter downs his tequilla shot as quickly as he possibly can.

Lilly arches an eyebrow, and downs her own shot. Pete is looking a little overwhelmed. She snags the bottle in one hand and Pete with the other and starts pulling him through the crowd.

"Come on, follow me."

Peter follows her helplessly.

He turns red at the sight of all the mini-skirts around.

He turns even brighter red at Faith's bikini.

He turns reddest of all when he spies the "Clothing Optional" sign.

Poor, poor Peter.

Lilly leads him out to the balcony, which is cool and quiet and thankfully free of people.

"There, is this better?" she asks, perching on the railing.

"Much," Peter says, breathing a sigh of relief. "Did everyone in the entire bloody bar come to your party, then?"

Lilly laughs.

"Not everyone. I don't know everyone yet, so they couldn't all come. But yeah, a lot of people did. Pretty shiny, huh?"

"Very," Peter agrees, "if you like that sort of thing. I don't want to keep you away from all of your friends, though."

Lilly rolls her eyes.

"You're one of my friends too, dork. And if you eventually come inside, you can meet people and they can be your friends too."

"I met some people the other day," Peter points out. "I'm trying!"

"Which is excellent," Lilly says happily, and pours him another shot.

"Here's to meeting people!"

"To meeting people," Peter agrees, before downing his shot.

"So, this is your suite, then? It's nice!"

Lilly beams.

"It's totally rocketship, isn't it? I love living here. I love the hot tub and my room and the balcony and the big comfy couch and the tv and one day, I'm actually going to use the kitchen, too."

Peter grins.

"Perhaps we could attempt to make dinner some time, the two of us? We can make a mess and laugh, in days to come, over the story of how marmalade ended up on the ceiling."

"Deal," Lilly says, laughing.

"Only without the marmalade. Orange jelly is just weird."

"I like marmalade," Peter protests. "Marmalade and devon and scones. How do you beat that? Oh, and tea."

Lilly sighs, shaking her head.

"I'll give you the devon and scones, but no way on the tea and marmalade. Just because you're all weird and British doesn't mean my taste buds have to suffer."

"Your taste buds just need a cracking afternoon tea. They'll adjust. You don't know what you're missing."

Lilly arches an eyebrow.

"Yes I do. You made me try tea once, remember? And I didn't like it."

"Afternoon tea. There's tea, yes, but also scones and cake and bread and butter - it's wonderful. Trust me."

Lilly looks doubtful, but shrugs.

"Maybe I'll try it sometime. But right now, we are at a party and there is tequila, so that's what we're drinking."

And she hands him another shot. Lilly's thinking maybe one more and then she drags him inside and forces him to be social.

"Tequilla it is," he says, smiling, one arm going around her shoulders in a (mostly) friendly sort of way.

And down the next shot goes.

There's a chance he might be willing to socialise, now.

Lilly smiles up at him.

"I bet you never had this much tequila in your life or death before you met me, did you?"

"You would win that bet quite handily," he assures her. "Really, do you even think it possible that you're wrong about that?"

"Hell no," Lilly responds promptly.

"But then, I like bets I know I'm going to win."

"Well, there are a lot of bets about things I've done since I met you that you'd win, then," Peter says cheerfully.

Despite the fact that this list includes having his hair braided and his heart broken repeatedly.

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