Home Away From Home... (attn: Dayle)

Dayle toiled at the kitchen sink, washing the brand new sets of dishes she'd bought on her way home. Once she finished drying, she concentrated for a moment. Ever since she'd walked in the door, Ysabel had been moving about, doing one thing or another, and suddenly, there was silence.

Either she was sleeping, or completely dumbfounded about what to do with herself. Dayle snickered at her sister's jaw dropping when mentioning the concept of "doing whatever you bloody well want" and headed upstairs to visit her sister's room.

The image of her sister standing, looking relatively lost in the middle of her new bedroom, was one Dayle would cherish for a very long time. She walked up behind her sister and wrapped her arms gently about the fluffily-gowned waist. Leaning her chin on her twin's left shoulder, she said quietly, "This is where you either strip naked and have a hot shower, or a nice long bubble bath, or bounce up and down on your new bed until you get tired or dizzy or knock your head on the ceiling from bouncing so high."

Ysabel heard Dayle's approach, clasped her arms around Dayle's when her twin hugged her, and then smiled her wide, open, just-for-Dayle smile at her sister's outrageous suggestion.

"Jump on the bed? I would never!"

She swayed from side to side a bit as if rocking them both, and then gave a little laugh. "Do you know, all these years of running a household, whether it be ours or someone else's, and the moment I have to do it myself, I draw a blank!"

She disengaged herself from their hug but turned to face her short-haired mirror-image. "Am I so horribly spoiled, Dayle?"

Dayle giggled at the image of her twin jumping on the bed. With the condo's vaulted ceilings, it could be accomplished, and she wouldn't disturb anyone downstairs... "But it's so -fun-!"

A gentle moan of contentment emanated from Dayle as she was rocked back and forth against her twin. When Ysabel turned to her, and asked "Am I so horribly spoiled, Dayle?" the first reflex Dayle had was to nod. "Yes, you're so classicly spoiled rotten that not only have you had not one bit of responsibility of your own in over six hundred years, you're fearfully fed Swiss chocolate and Belgian ice cream from a platinum spoon out of a bowl of solid gold."

She rolled her eyes, giggling. "You know you're not bloomin' spoiled. You're a managerial type. Take control, direct the action. Unfortunately," she mused, raising a hand to tap a well-manicured finger on her cheek, "there's only one actor available and ready to audition. So either you can take the chance on a single, untried cast member or you can let all of your lovely gowns languish in their crates."

Winking, she amended, "You know Amy," she spoke her special name for her sister, "on second thought, maybe that'll finally get you to start wearing jeans!" Attempting to hide the burgeoning smirk on her face, she raised her arms expansively at the room. "Though, I think to make up for the lack of sunlight in your room you need more mirrors."

Ysabel knew better than to rise to Dayle's bait... her twin knew full well the chance of her wearing jeans was about as likely as Dayle going on an ocean cruise. She shook her head reprovingly instead, tapping her fingernail delicately against one of her pointed little canines as she thought.

"Well, I suppose I had better get started, hmm? These things won't unpack themselves."

Dayle's comment about mirrors also made her laugh. "What would you have this room be, some sort of... sordid pleasure den?" She shook her head again. "No, indeed."

As a matter of fact, the large windows at the front of the room were closed up as tightly as possible. Ysabel had very little tolerance for anything but dim light, and found it all but impossible to sleep if her room wasn't pitch black during the day.

While mirrors hardly entered Ysabel's mind, she did wonder about the possibility of murals or stencils or some other type of wall decoration.

Of course, that she would have to do by herself, too.

"There's something to be said for charming, plain, simple white walls," she said primly. Kneeling on the floor, her long pale blue gown billowing out around her, she opened a box. "What have you been up to, yourself?"

Dayle was going to offer to help her unpack... but she'd draw it out a bit longer. They hadn't had a chance to converse or interact much since before they'd arrived.

"What you do in your room, love, is entirely up to you. If you want your pleasure sordid, by all means, whatever gets off your goat. Speaking of which, do you think you'll be bringing any fucktoys here, or to your palace, I mean, Heolfor? We might want to set some groundrules. As far as friends and company that needs to be entertained and company that brings us dinner, oh and then also as far as shagging and such are concerned. And how about food? Do you want to order in on a regular basis, or go out sometimes, or...?"

She watched Ysabel's eyes dart around the room. Then there was the comment about plain white walls. Did she want paintings, or tapestries or wallcoverings of some sort? "There's a few art galleries in town, if you wanted to visit to find something to decorate with. Or have someone visit with samples."

She shrugged. What had she been up to? "Washing the new dishes I bought. I completely skimped on the silver, and just hacked up a couple boxes of plastic cutlery, until you tell me what you want. I've got a few catalogues on the kitchen island."

Fashion Ysabel may not have met her sister's approval on, but lingo was no mystery. Still, she lifted an eyebrow. "How delightful. Fucktoys? Shagging? Don't you have a job to do first and foremost?" Ysabel gave a little sniff. "Entertaining that type of company had hardly crossed my mind."

It wasn't a completely baldfaced lie; entertaining company of one kind or another was always on Ysabel's mind; in this case, however, she could be honest. She'd made calculated marriages, not necessarily for love, for the last several centuries. Whatever else whe might have found lacking about this one, she didn't mind the fact that it was the first time in a very long time that she would be free to pursue a relationship of her own choosing without a care for titles, land, or money. It really wasn't a priority for her though. It was just nice to think about doing her own thing, riding her horses, enjoying time with her sister, and working a job that wouldn't make or break the Yolgraves' bank accounts.

"I don't mind going out to eat," she said delicately. "I think we'll have plenty of opportunity here. And whatever rules you like for male or female company; I don't plan to have to worry about that anytime soon."

She began to sort out the packages this box held; mostly knick knacks, and none of her very most beloved ones, which would go with her to the Manor. They would be safer there.

Ysabel nodded at the notion of being the one to choose their silverware and visit the art galleries. Decorating was really more her thing than Dayle's, anyway. But... "Dishes? What kind of dishes did you get? What design?"

"You sound so cute when you say 'fuck." Dayle stuck her tongue out at her sister briefly. "Besides, it's not your mind that the thought has to cross. I'm only saying something now so I don't come home to find your pasty white bum bouncing on the lap of some American boy who thought he was lucky to catch a sophisticated Englishwoman. Not that it isn't a nice bum, mind you, because mine's just the same, but it is still not really a sight I wish to carry throughout eternity."

She harumphed to herself. "Job? You're funny. You will have more free time than I to explore our new home. Perhaps you could come up with a list of fancy restaurants for us to try. Or maybe we could order in some much-vaunted 'Philly Cheesesteaks.' They were recommended a few times when I was meeting some of my new charges. And asparagus." She snorted, then shrugged expansively, her palms coming down to hit her thighs with a smack. "You'd think from the way these Americans tell me to try different things that we English - who discovered asparagus, thank you very much - would have no idea what it is or tastes like. The very idea!"

Shaking her head, she knelt down across the box from her sister. "You've still had more male or female company than I have in the last fifty years. You've always had a knack for it, married or not. Though I did have a few covert offers in the form of Austin Powers-accented smartarses."

"I stopped at Pier One on the way home." Giving a mock-injured flash of her hand to her heart, she replied to Ysabel's surprised questions. "At first, I'd looked at a lovely set of platters that were termed 'Elizabethan' but the swirly-green and terracotta colors were just too much for our plain white walls. As an aside, before I ramble much more, we need to get the kitchen painted something other than white. Especially if we start eating in there." She picked up a wrapped object and slowly peeled off the carefully wrapped tissue paper padding. "Then I looked at something called 'Genoa' which had a lovely red center and floral patterns around the outside, but I realized we don't have much in the way of flowers in the house." She looked at the ornately carved wooden cardinal in her hand, and turned it towards Ysabel. Moving it in a flight-like motion, she continued, "I started looking at plain and boring. There was a nice white set called 'Cubic White' but I didn't think you'd like eating off square-patterned round plates. Next I looked at a set of 'Urban Dot' but as I neither live in Manhattan nor are actually twentyfive years old, I passed those, too. I settled on plain white for right now."

She looked at the bird again. "I should get you a trivial shelf, for all your little bits and bobs." Grinning, she turned it back at Ysabel and moved it in time to her words. "The Pier One is near the Mall. I know you're not a fan of big shopping centers but it's quite upscale, with Lord and Taylor and Tiffany's and Saks and a corset shoppe. You might almost like going there to look."

Ysabel simply made a moue at the rather graphic image Dayle proposed, turning her attention to unwrapping a little wooden rocking-horse whose mane and tail were made with real horse hair.

Personally she thought one should go to Philadelphia in order to sample a Philly cheesesteak, but she wasn't about to disagree so she nodded along with Dayle. "I can certainly do some research in the restaurant area," she said. Ysabel wasn't a big eater, but she did like to taste.

She was content to let Dayle chatter, making a comment here and there. As her twin knelt on the other side of the box, Ysabel once again raised both eyebrows, this time, at her somewhat accusatory statement of Ysabel's supposed 'knack' with men.

Once again Ysabel maintained the opinion that it was hardly her fault if her behavior attracted more than her fair share of the opposite sex but she refrained from comment, murmuring, "Indeed." There was no need to belabor the obvious; Dayle was certainly aware that Ysabel hadn't had a relationship that went beyond dating for just over a century. And Ysabel wasn't looking. That, however, wasn't going to stop Dayle from teasing, however.

Fortunately Dayle just kept chatting, which was just fine with Ysabel. She tried not to look too relieved that Dayle had stuck with nice, plain white dishes... she would look through the catalogues and perhaps online later for some china suitable for entertaining any company they might have at the condo. Her eyes followed the "flying" cardinal as she pondered the dish situation, and it took her a moment to realize Dayle had switched topics yet again, in typical ebergetic fashion, and was discussing shelving.

"Can't we go shopping for a good set of shelves too? We can set aside a night for it this week, perhaps, or maybe two. And then we can get everything we need." Ysabel pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, we could stand to get a few sets of shelves. And maybe a coffee table to put in front of the sofa. What do you think? Should we make a night out of it?"

Sometimes Ysabel's silences annoyed her. She wished she could know what her sister was thinking, behind that carefully schooled countenance. Even just feeling the emotions behind them would be nice, but then she wasn't the empath of the family.

Her mind filled in the possibilities.
"My sister's a nut."
"Haha, you unshagged bitch."
"Thank all that is holy, unholy, and everything in between that you didn't buy those dotted plates."

"Damned courtesan training." She tilted her head at Ysabel's suggestions and thoughts, weighing them. "It might need to wait til the weekend, but we definately should. See some of the town, get dinner, go to a restaurant, go shopping. Quite a few stores are twenty-four hours, I'm told, so it'll make it easier on you."

Dayle really did feel bad for her sister and her sensitivity to light. Even an overly bright city could cause her pain... But that's why they would go out together. "I'll make up a general shedule of when I'll be available, or rather, when I won't be."

She picked another trinket out of the box, having tired of the bird. Fiddling with the wrapper, she commented, "Have you thought about hiring someone to clean or cook or whathaveyou? Or perhaps entice a familiar? I know how much you love having your hair brushed, and I wish I could always help you with that, but..." The silent comment "I can't because I have a job you can't help me with" hung heavy in the air. It was one of the few things she regretted about her responsibilities.

Dayle tore the wrapping off the trinket and waved the regrets away. When she looked at the dohickey in her hand, she realized it was an old, old handmade carriage someone had given her, and she had promptly given her sister for safe keeping and care. "Huh. Didn't think you'd brought such old stuff with you."

Ysabel nodded agreeably to Dayle's idea of a schedule. She knew her sister would stay with her 24/7 if she could, but life was life and it drew them apart on occasion. She smiled, instantly forgiving of anything involving her twin, and took the little handmade carriage from Dayle.

"I can brush my own hair," she said. "It's not impossible. You have your responsibilities, I know. And I have mine."

Funny, how hairbrushing came up when they had such bigger things to concern themselves with. "As for familiars, you know I tend to be slightly pickier about them. I imagine one might come my way eventually, but I can do without for now. We can hire a cleaning service."

Her smile didn't fade, since it was her sister she was talking to. Being agreeable was never a chore when it was Dayle. "I will be occupied soon enough, as it is. I just thought we had better do our shopping while we have the time, so whenever is good for you we'll go."

Looking at the little carriage, she laughed lightly. "You're the one who gave it to me for safekeeping, silly. So I kept it safe. You never said to do otherwise with it."

"Well, if I get the urge to help you brush your hair, you're going to bloody well like it!" Smiling, she sighed contentedly. Hair-brushing might not be the most important thing in the scheme of "getting settled in America" but Dayle enjoyed helping her twin. The morale boost garnered from a few minutes helping her sister was immeasurable.

"You better be picky, Mum would sooner drop you into a sunlit room than have you bring home a disreputable familiar. She'd also not be too happy if we used them for cleaning services. Well unless they actually -were- cleaning services..." She snorted at her goofiness.

Amy's smile always warmed Dayle. She looked at the carriage, the bird, the pile of unwrapped trash, and pointed. "Well, how about after we get this box emptied? Then we can worry about planning..." A pregnant pause. "Amy and Dayle Yolgrave's first Night Out in America!"

Snickering to herself, she quipped, "That almost sounds like a candidate for a new top-crap American reality show."

Dayle's warnings about familiars fell on nearly-deaf ears, as Ysabel was hardly likely to bring home anyone inappropriate for the task. To have that admonition fall on the tail of her sister's loud proclaimation of her own craving to brush Ysabel's hair was entirely typical of Dayle, so Ysabel just continued to smile, laughing inside but not out loud.

The pile of knick knacks was easily cleaned up; Ysabel took them gently and placed them one by one on top of her bookshelf. The tissue paper, too, she picked up and deposited in the wastebasket by the door while Dayle continued to unwrap things.

"And to think, if it's at all possible, you brought more than I did," Ysabel said as she looked around at the scattered boxes. "Hard to believe I'll just have to do this again at the Manor." She gave a little sigh.

"Well, it's practice," she said, kneeling back down and carefully unwrapping the next item.

Amy and Dayle's First Night Out would be something, she agreed. Mostly shopping, maybe some dining, and if Ysabel could help it, they'd meet some new people as well. She adored meeting people.

She did crack a rather wide grin at the mention of reality TV. "If they only knew, hmm?" Ysabel couldn't watch the stuff... it was all just nonsense, and personally she figured reality was way stranger than TV represented. It was far better to go out and watch the real thing, than to see it on TV.

"I so did not bring more than you. I don't collect little trinkets like you do, not actively anyway." Any attempt to over-exaggerate her sister's collecting propensities was inevitably met with comments about Dayle's assorted stuffed seals. She jumped onto the next topic.

"Practice is good, even if you're just barely getting used to it," she commented, knowing there were a lot of things she herself would need to get used to.

"Well, they almost do know... You never did like to watch Buffy or Angel. Or even Blade. But it's eerie some of the similarities..."

Dayle turned toward the closet a little, resting her rump on her heels. "Do you know what you're going to wear? I think I only have the one dress."

Ysabel tactfully avoided mention of stuffed seals, knowing it would only serve to frustrate Dayle. It was tempting, but not quite tempting enough to forego manners for - this time.

Instead she answered the most immediate question. "What I'm going to wear? What I usually wear... except perhaps something a bit more formal."

Ysabel surveyed the boxes sitting near the generous closet, the ones that held all her clothing, carefully packed in individual clothing bags and each lightly scented. "I won't really know until I unpack them all, will I," she said with good cheer, resigning herself to the idea of figuring out exactly how to do so.

"Perhaps I'll take a walk in a bit, and see what restaurants are in the area. I know I'm going to need a break from unpacking at some point, if I'm to keep my sanity. Is there something you especially have a preference for, or should I just see what's around?"

Dayle shook her head. "Italian, Chinese, maybe a nice sub place. Torpedoes. Grinders. Hoagies. You know what I mean."

Ysabel's wish for a walk seemed like a good idea. "Well why don't you go for a walk now? I'm craving a hot shower. We can work on your dresses when you get back."

Walking through the sewers had left her feeling a little grody... But Simon and Carol had been extremely nice. She was glad to learn about the above-ground entrance, though.

Ysabel, as usual, was agreeable. She stood smoothly and brushed out the folds of her gown. "Now, later, any time is fine with me. There must be so much that's new since I was last here."

She gathered her twin into a tight hug and kissed her cheek. "Take your shower, and thank you for helping me. It will go faster with us both working on it, and then I will help you with yours."

With that, Ysabel left Dayle to clean up, thinking a hot shower might not be so bad a bit later. She would certainly scout out the food to be had... both human and vampire type, but first she thought she might peek into the gardens she'd seen as the cab drove them in. They'd only been a block or two away, maybe, and she remembered the direction.

Grabbing her cloak on the way out so Dayle wouldn't have to yell at her about it, Ysabel headed out into the mildly chilly, clear night.

((ooc: Ysabel out!))

Dayle leaned into her sister's kiss gently, and hugged her as tight as she could. "Enjoy your walk dearie."

Watching her exit the bedroom and tromp down the stairs, Dayle couldn't help but feel slightly alone but very happy as she flopped down on her sister's bed. Content to just lie where she was, she changed her mind and rolled off the mattress onto her knees, then stood, flipping her hair into a more managable position.

She tromped down the stairs in much the same fashion as her sister, and made the turn left past the laundry closet into her bathroom.

One of the few things she disliked about their condo was the lack of a powder room. Any company they had over would need to avail themselves of either of the sisters' bathrooms, and Dayle didn't care for that very much. Deft hands came to the buttons on her blouse, releasing them as she stepped out of her shoes. She dropped the loosened blouse behind her on the shoes, making the final stride through the bathroom to the tub. Carelessly dropping the stopper-flap into place, she turned the hot on full-blast while she busied herself unzipping the skirt.

Almost four inches of water were in the tub when she turned on the cold to half, and added some citrusy bubble soap and bath salts. Picking a hair-tie from a small basket on the vanity, she wrapped it around her now-unruly hair, forcing it up into a haphazard bun.

When the level of the water reached a sufficient level, she shut both taps off. "Bugger," she thought, her foot dangling above the fluffy piles of bubbles. She made her way across the bathroom to the linen closet and pulled out one of the two-by-two towels stacked there. Sliding out of her panties and bra, she kicked them into the corner. "Need a hamper," she noted silently. Dropping it on the toilet, she finally raised her foot over the edge of the tub. In between the bubbles she insinuated herself carefully, endeavoring not to splash them or break the lovely piles before her.

Dayle sighed deeply, closing her eyes, reclining against the roundness of the tub, revelling in the liquid heat against her skin.

Dayle dried her body thoroughly, one freshly shaved, nickless leg up on the toilet, the other on the floor pushing her up and down repeatedly. She sometimes enjoyed flexing her muscles, and using just her calf muscles to keep her balanced was a tense trick.

Wrapping the towel around her hair, she leaned over the sink to brush her teeth. It struck her as odd that there didn't seem to be any vampire dentists. "They'd probably make a killing," she thought as she flossed around her extended fangs. Snorting suddenly, she gashed her finger against a fang and fell over the sink, laughing with high pitched peals. "Killing. Dentist. Fangs." Repeating the joke in her head only made her laugh harder.

After a few moments, she calmed down, though her bladder was now making a statement. "Laughed too hard." Lifting the toilet lid, she went about her business.

Reaching over to the tub, she picked up the back brush she'd tried to use to help her achieve a little bit of release and hung it from the dangling bath accessory rack. It frustrated her slightly that she wasn't able to complete her task, but she enjoyed the slow rush of her ministrations, at least until the water had gotten cold.

Standing back in front of the sink, she picked up her body lotion - ambrosia melon - squirted a dollop into her hand and proceeded to rub it into the silky skin of her legs, arms, and chest. Little flickers of pleasure sparked inside her as she worked her way from toes to neck with the frutiful cream.

Sighing, she moved into her bedroom. Pulling the chair from her computer desk, she sat down in front of the mirror hanging next to it. Taking up the large brush on the desk, she dropped the towel to the floor and worked the stiff bristles through her hair.

Spinning her chair around, she tugged open her necessary drawer, and selected a plain pink set of brief... "No, no no!" she chastised herself and picked up instead a silky black bikini and matching cami. Leaning out of her chair as she tugged the panties up her legs with one hand, she clicked the mouse button a few times to awaken the computer.

After typing off an email to her parents, Dayle lazed about.

She walked from room to room on the first floor, feeling an urge to do... something... but unable to decide exactly what. Cabin fever was not an affliction the vampire was used to; rather, she usually felt very comfortable either staying at home or wandering the streets, or watching over her charges.

Her charges. That was a qualifier that would take on a whole new meaning if she accepted Simon's offer. Elsa had once suggested that perhaps she took on the role she had simply because of an unrealized maternal instinct. Years later, Dayle had reflected upon that comment during one of her pre-arranged marriages, vaguely wishing she were able to bear children. It was one of the few drawbacks of becoming a vampire that she occasionally regretted.

Wandering through the living room, she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so... listless. Was the decision that difficult? Was it the shock of actually having met the father of the family she'd protected for so long?

Or was it something else?

Dayle was having a hard time pinning it down.

She rolled over the back of the sofa in the middle of the living room and found herself staring at the fireplace. She sighed. Ysabel had wanted it turned towards the fireplace; she had disagreed, simply on the virtue of two comfortable chairs being more intimate than a couch. Not to mention, she liked to splay her body across the cushions of the sofa when watching TV.

Rolling off the sofa, she wrapped her hands around the arm and rotated it to face the wall where the as-yet-unboxed TV stood. Walking into the kitchen, she pulled open the toolbox they'd purchased and found a box cutter. Returning to the "crate", she cut the plastic straps holding the box together, then removed the packing slip from its envelope. After lifting the top of the container off - including the sides, she noticed - she set the box-top aside before dragging in the wide telly stand they'd also purchased. She leaned over the half-crated TV, inspecting it for handles or a place to grip. Dayle slid the crate into the dining room, then pulled the stand into place. Opening a small door in the wall, she pulled out the coax cable wire, and laughed to herself as it dangled from the opening. Turning back to the TV, she knelt in front of it, crushing her breasts against the top - "Knew they'd be good for something this week" - and, reaching underneath, picked it up without stressing, then turned to place it on the stand.

Brushing off some of the little pearly pebbles of styrofoam, she cut the tape holding the power wire and unfurled it, then plugged it in inside the little door. The cable wire connected next, she powered it on and while the auto-seek found her channels, she cleaned up the mess she'd made. Finding the remote and instruction book, she tossed them onto the couch.

Nudging the door open with her behind, she danced across the parking lot to the communal dumpsters, dropped the now-crushed box and styrofoam inside, and jogged lightly back to her open door.

"Dayle? I'm home. I'm sorry I was out so long."

Ysabel peered into the living room, wincing at the furrows in the rug left by the couch. At least the TV was unpacked... and Dayle was 'breaking it in,' so to speak.

"I see you've been able to relax some."

She bent down over her sister's prone form and kissed her softly on the forehead. "You look comfy. Don't get up, just stay right there."