2020-12-19 - The Thorne Thanksgiving

A few weeks ago, some issues from Lilith's past came to play haunt and interruption in her life, and Byron's by extension. In order to try and mitigate collateral damage, the night of the event with Grant Turner in the Casino, Byron texts Lilith's friend Chantal to let her know to expect a call the next day. Lilith has trouble getting her to answer the phone and texts at first which is automatically a little worrying, but eventually, they do talk.

Chantal is being managed a little carefully because it's smarter to keep it contained, for one, but for two... Lilith doesn't want to cause the woman to flip out if she's not even on any list for the Russian as yet, assuming she ever will be. The real risk would come if (when) Laurent gets nabbed with Camilla, but they're out of reach for a while yet, they won't be expected back in Miami until well after the New Year. Therefore, all there is to do is wait and keep tabs on Chantal. She does that by texts and some voice calls. In fact, they talk all the time suddenly with some bond potentially re-newed, but... Byron can see that it's also become a gradually increasing worry obsession to Lilith.

She checks on Chantal as much as a sassy teenage daughter with a wild streak. Lilith is more clever about it, sure. Sometimes she just sends gifs, memes, or pictures to see the 'like' reaction that lets her know the other woman is responsive and okay. They discussed inviting her for Thanksgiving, but Chantal had plans to leave a couple of days before and go back to Mississippi anyway, so they didn't really have to finish deciding.

The day before Thanksgiving, while Byron and Lilith and dog (loves car ride) and cat (wants to seppuku) are all packed up in her SUV for travel to a secluded forest luxury cabin a few hours away, there's no responses coming back. None at night after they get there and unpack and unwind. There's not one response in the morning when they wake up to put the turkey in oven and have coffee and breakfast. There's nothing after a late morning free run through the forest with the dog unleashed (he's totally stoked). Understandably, it's now the holiday and the woman may have been just getting in with family or traveling all day before. It hasn't been that long, right?

Lilith tells herself that through meal prep with Byron and while they're doing that, she informs him of a plan they're going to enact once they're dressed in real clothes, not t-shirt and lazy pants for cooking in, "Are you ready for a Thanksgiving surprise?" Uh oh. She's still chopping potatoes for boil and mashing and not looking at Byron, she's definitely not in costume under that white t-shirt of his and her pawprint lounge PJ pants, but when Lilith says that, sometimes it's time for a whole damn scavenger hunt or she's dressed like a succubus with the demeanor and activities to match.

Without waiting for much response pause, she carries on, "When we get dressed and all this is in the oven and done in the pots, we're going to take pictures with the bluetooth remote set up on my phone and a timer burst." Okay, that's fine. "... I got us sweatshirts." What? "The cat has a turkey costume and the dog has an injun headband." Who says injun these days? Lilith, apparently. She also doesn't sound like she's fucking with him, which is slightly possible, but... she's probably aiming to be ridiculous for kicks and capture and her own amusement. Memories!

During that time, after his meeting with Grant Turner, Byron began doing some research to learn more about both the Russian and his boss. He also tried to come up with several ideas that they could do to move forward, all while handling the end of the Festival period before Thanksgiving hit. These were just some of what he's had to deal with. The weed smog, while it didn't fuck things up too badly with his business, he'd had to reach out to several of his business associates to apologize for various things.

Then there was the fact that it's been so many months since he'd last heard from his mother. He'd tried calling her, messaging her. He even sent some of his guard types to search the town for her. All of these efforts had been futile ones. Not that Byron doesn't have an idea of where she was and that annoyed the hell out of him. Having her off some sort of leash was aggravating in itself and the holidays help to remind him that he had no idea what she was up to in that house.

Now they were off, traveling outside of Gray Harbor for some much needed R&R. There's a point where he looks down at his phone, considering sending his mother a message for the holidays, but seeing the other unanswered texts that were sent before, he decides against it. Rather than crating any of the animals, including the cat, he lets them find a place in the car to get comfortable. When he gets bored, sometimes he'll set in the center console, but for the most part, Smog would just curl up into a sleepy ball on one of the seats while Sirius' head remained stuck outside a partially open window the whole trip.

In the kitchen, Byron just has on a plain grey t-shirt, but rather than pajama bottoms or sweatpants, he's wearing a comfortable pair of jeans. "A surprise?" He crouches down before the oven and rather than opening it for a peek, he just uses the front window to check on the turkey within. The place smelled amazing. Oh good, she only wanted a photo op. Sweatshirts though? His nose scrunches and there's a crease in his brow when he hears this, but he finds some amusement in it. "So I don't need to throw on a suit today? Got it." Hearing about the costumes for the pets though, still in his lowered position, he turns to check to see just where the animals are, "I'm sure Smog'll be happy about that."

Rising to stand, he moves up behind Lilith to graze a hand at her paw print covered rear, before pressing himself against her backside, while wrapping his arms around her waist in a forward lean. "No injun princess costume for you?" He'd be looking at something to pick at, food-wise, but she's only mashing potatoes.

Lilith is probably going to get cat-shanked in her sleep for doing this, but she wants her ridiculous Thanksgiving picture for the records, damnit. Right now, the dog is lounging out on the deck porch at alert watch, waiting for something to chase. There's been a few birds landing, but he hasn't been fast enough for them yet. Sirius really likes the outdoor woodsy freedom he rarely gets at home unless they run in the forest on the trails. The cat Smog/Smaug is seated up on a windowsill, likewise watching birds, but he's not allowed to hang outside without a leash because who knows where a tomcat that used to be a stray will run. They're both blissfully unaware of the fact they're about to be costumed.

"It's not hard to make one. I could put two braids in my hair while bare to nature and you could call me Pocahontas..." Lilith informs Byron while getting at the last chunk of potato to lean back into the body hug from behind with a soft, content 'mm' of noise. Putting down the knife, she slowly spins around in the hold after a little jutting push of her curved backside into the front of his pants, "You're totally my white man to conquer in a moment of history re-enactment." Arms reaching in loop, she makes a little growl of noise and pulls him down for kiss and nipping sting of lip bite, "I've got the savage part down. It'd make sense you'd work hard to domesticate me."

For the time being, Lilith has forgotten about her phone and the lack of alerts, but it's right on the counter nearby just in case. Occasionally, Turner still tries to call or text from various numbers, but each one he tries with gets succinctly blocked by the woman every chance she gets, "How do you tame the wildness out?"

Byron lets out his own little murmur, but he looks quite intrigued by what Lilith says of her own potential costume. Up goes his brows, a smile creeping onto his lips. "Pocahontas, A sexy Dutch girl on laundry day or a French girl, sans the beret. And the clothes." So many styles one can do just with braided hair! If those potatoes were buttered and heated, he might have stuck a finger in for a taste. That will have to wait where food is involved.

His arms loosen to allow her to spin, before tightening round her waist and pulling her in close. Leaning forward, his forehead pressed against hers, he murmurs, "What if I like it wild? Try as I may to shackle and bound you. A little spanking, perhaps? Ravaging your body with pleasure? But that's the effect you have a man, bringing out his baser instincts." This is all said almost too seriously, but he ends it with a smile, followed by a kiss.

Byron knows, by now, that Lilith's been trying to get a hold of Chantal. Perhaps, he also suspects that Turner was attempting to reach out, because he's seen her frustration several times now, unknown to him that she's being forced to block all of these numbers, but he's not blind. So for a time, his gaze settles in on her phone, having just noticed it there, at the end of their kiss.

"The pies are ready to be put in after the turkey cooks a bit more." There's also the ham, the vegetables and everything else that they picked up from the grocery store.

"Look at you, branching out with creativity. Such distracting kitchen talk. The good news is, we're only on a time schedule for our own stomachs, no putting on for anyone else. Which means we can have as many distractions as we want while rotating things out of and into the oven." Lilith tells Byron while nuzzling on another kiss and reaching around to put both of her hands in a sudden rough grab and then slap at his backside, "We'll go change after I put some of this back in the fridge to wait turn on the stove and oven. Mm. Did you text your mother and tell her where we were going so she doesn't think we're just ignoring her in the building during the holiday?"

Reluctantly, Lilith draws back to put things away she'd pulled out to make prep-ready for quick pop in the stove or pot when it's time while they're talking. She pauses, though, in doing so to look down at her phone and click the side button to light the screen and make sure she hasn't missed any alerts. Then she resumes and wipes off the counter and puts the cutting board and knives and a few bowls in the sink to rinse out. She dries her hands and goes back for her phone to send a gif of a turkey twerking to try and lure some holiday humor response.

"There's still not anything since the day before yesterday from Chantal. I mean, if twerking turkey doesn't at least get an emoji or something along the lines of 'you crazy girl' from her, I think I'm going to get worried. So we'll give that some time. Sorry. I know I'm obsessing." After hitting send, she tosses her phone onto one of the chairs in the adjoining living room and walks around to hop piggyback onto Byron to take her into the bedroom where their clothes are, "I laid the shirts out while you were out on the porch with the dog."

When they get into the bedroom, there is certainly a pair of festive sweatshirts presented on the bed. One is dark blue and says LEG DAY with two turkey drumsticks at cross, the bigger size noting it as Byron's. Lilith's is black and has a sassy fat illustration of a turkey in the middle and it says YOU ONLY LIKE ME FOR MY BREAST! They're nowhere near as bad as a pair of ugly sweaters, she's not going for THAT much ridiculous irony to put on the mantle next to their posed and picturesque photos of other holiday/social events and luxurious vacation.

Byron will never say that he doesn't appreciate a good ass grab and having lived months with Lilith, he's grown very used to it. "God you're making me hungry." With all this talk of food, even if he started it. Thanksgiving was definitely one of those times of year where food played the most important part. Enjoying the nuzzling kiss, he slowly releases his hold on her just as she pulls away. When his mother is brought up, though, even if her absence was always at the back of his mind somewhere, he wasn't letting Mary Thorne ruin his day the way she'd like. So instead, he looks to be beaming with a crinkle-eyed smile, "I let her know last night, but I'll follow up with that today."

Fishing inside of his jeans pocket, he types out a quick message: Wish you were here out at this fabulous cabin. Happy Thanksgiving.
He would leave it at that, but sends a second text: I hope that you return home before I get back.

He does his best to hide his annoyance. Luckily for him, there were other things to be concerned about, like Chantal's radio silence. Also, Lilith's hopping onto his back and forcing him to hunker forward with his arms reaching behind to grab at her ass to hold makes it that much easier to, once more, put all thoughts of his mother in some dark corner of his mind. He's all laughter and smiles as he carries her into the bedroom where he's confronted with some terribly humored clothing. His eyes peer out at the larger shirt, reading the text printed on it. "I almost have this nagging suspicion that I'm being called out." As they near the bed, he slowly begins to lower her to the ground, a flickering glance looking over at the other sweatshirt. "This is definitely going to be the sort of classy photo to send to all our family and friends." He teases in a light deadpan.

Reaching out for his, holding it up before him now, the corner of his lips tug into a sort of smile as he shakes his head. Clasping the garment within one hand, he begins to lift up his t-shirt to change into the Leg Day sweatshirt. "You have some excellent thighs to go with those breasts. Just so you know." He says mid-change.

"If you play your cards right, you can have all the the thigh and breast you can handle, twice over. Hair braiding aside, you didn't think tacky sweatshirts and a photo op of us torturing our pets was your only Turkey Day surprise, did you?" Lilith bats her lashes at Byron a few times fast while dropping her pants and t-shirt into a pile to swap out. She hops into skinny jeans to go with her sweatshirt when it's time to tug it on, then pulls her hair down to go into the adjacent bathroom and deal with, mostly putting product in to arrange and tousle the natural curl and wave of her dark hair.

"Anyway, I'm too lazy about messaging to make a friends joke out of this and we're lacking in the family department-- our shame and animal abuse will be our very own."

And because they're taking photos, while she's in there, she gives herself a quick dusting of sheer powder from her makeup bag, some flushed lip balm and some quick sweeps of mascara to be camera ready with ridiculously little effort. When she comes back out, she finds some stylish lacing hike boots to go up her calves in adorable forest-sweatshirt-jean-combo fashion, then she goes for the real kickers-- the pet costumes. Pulling out a puffed out chest piece that has sprouts of limp tail feather fabric like a tutu with connecting turkey hood hat, Byron can immediately tell it's for the cat. The dog is kind of big, so he just has some derpy velcro indian headpiece with tall, standing feathers and an arrowhead collar.

"Are you ready to make camera magic or die trying?"

It's going to be a team effort to get these costumes on the animals to pose them for a picture with owners, and it still may be a bust mission, but they're damn well going to try. Naturally, she's handing over the cat costume to Byron while doing the much easier task of carrying their happy-go-lucky dog's headpiece. On the chair, her phone is buzzing with ring, but the actual sound of alert is off, so they miss the call.

With his discarded shirt resting hapharzardly on the bed, Byron lifts the sweatshirt up and over, sticking his head through the collar before slipping his arms through the long, warm sleeves. "It feels better than it looks." He comments, staring down at the chicken thigh image as he tugs the hem of the shirt down to make the picture look all the more clear. He was already wearing jeans, so there was no need to change. Rather than crowd around Lilith in the bathroom, he uses the mirror in the bedroom instead, in the dimmed light. His primary focus is on the shirt itself, just seeing it makes a smile crack open across his lips as he shakes his head at the ridiculousness of it all. Then, of course, he lifts a hand to vaguely style his hair, not really slicking it back completely, as he he tends to do on days he heads to the office, but his fingers do give him a somewhat planned tousled look.

"What else do you have up your sleeves?" He inquires when told that the sweat shirts and pet costumes aren't the only surprises for the evening.

When she brings the costumes out, the first question out of his mouth is: "And you expect us to get these onto the animals today, don't you?" It's as if the man had doubts. Being handed the turkey costume, he rolls his eyes, "Christ." Before making his way over to where he'd last seen Smog, almost tempted to mentally persuade it to behave. He could do that, but he'll try struggling with it to begin with, in case the angry fluffball deides to behave.

"Mmhm, they're very soft, I'm not sure how I'm a snob about cheap scratchy fabric considering where I grew up. We can change and take proper pictures with food and fireplace later. As for what else I have planned..." There's a pause for effect before Lilith's tone rich with ribbing humor wonders, then comments, "Why would I tell you? I put surprises up my sleeves for a reason. I think you have three total? No, possibly four. Three and a half maybe..." The woman is probably serious about the count, but really, she's also just kind of torturing Byron with anticipation (or paranoia) now that she's let it slip there's not just one more surprise.

Lilith has to smash her lips to smother the smile that comes after handing over the cat's turkey costume. She tries to not crack up because that is the word she predicted in her head while on the way to hand it over. Her amusement is only partially squelched, though-- she makes a noise of faint, strangled amusement at Byron's reaction to his apparent task low in her throat before coughing off to one side and trailing after him with the dog costume in hand.

As the man goes for the cat, she goes to open the glass-paned outer door where they can see the white shepherd dog poised at sit and watch with his head tilting one way, then another as critters move and chirp around in the forest around the secluded luxury cabin. "Come on, we have to shut the door and block the cat from shooting through the glass." The brunette raises a brow as the dog ignores her in favor of visibly honing in on birds perching a land to hop in the grass, "Oh, no you don't. Sirius. Inside. Come." She's quick with the commands once birds are on the chase (and eat) menu. She's already wiped down the dog's legs and paws and had to brush debris from the forest out of him after the run today.

"Picture time, buddy. Here. Sit. Stay. Gimme your big head."

Once inside the door with it closed, Lilith stays way over in that area and leans over to affix the velcro and banding to fit the dog with Native American headdress and collar. But while she's doing the much easier task with a creature that will readily sit still with command and praise as a bonus, she's watching Byron approach the bay window ledge where the cat is also watching birds. He came from the Elm alley streets, the cat did, so... he probably has no clue what a costume is, and therefore has no inclination to run away. Maybe he'll sit still too!

Of course, Lilith is being mum about these surprises. Byron had no doubt that she would. Right now, though, his full attention is focused on the task at hand and that is trying to get the cat into a turkey costume. "Hey, Smog." He says in as calm a voice as he can muster, the cat only turning to look on him briefly before nature captures his attention again. Before assaulting the poor beast, he runs his fingers through the cats curly hair, "I don't even think that he'll fit in this with all that fur. We might need to give you a trim, you know that?"

Scritching at one of the Selkirk Rex's ears, his hand then reaches under the cat's chin to give him a good scritching there as well, trying to get Smog's guard down. Even when he presents the costume to the fluff ball, it doesn't seem like the kitty knows just what he's in for. "Alright, where should we begin?"

Even as he's doing this, trying to trick the cat, there is a curious part of him that is wondering about what Lilith has in store.

Maybe the cat won't be too upset if he puts the skirt feather part on first. Okay, trying to position a cat to force it's front legs into the opening of the costume isn't the easiest task! There's quite a bit of struggle and reluctance on the kitty's part. "Come on. Did you take a look at what I'm being forced to wear? Once we get the picture, you can be done with this for the year." Or forever, he's not sure which. At least once the costume is mostly on, the cat feels uncomfortably restrained that he freezes up, making him lean in heavily against Byron's arm as the man tugs at the tail end to stretch it out over the length of the furry cat's body. A Selkirk Rex has such untamed fur, which adds to the difficulty, making him puffier than he actually would be without all that fur.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" The cat doesn't look happy and for now, he's not moving at all. Grabbing the turkey headpiece, he stuffs the cat's face through the opening, watching as those glaring eyes widen with paranoia as the top of the mask pulls his forehead and ears back until he gets it fully settled properly. "I think I may have broken the cat." He calls out to Lilith, checking to see how she's faring.

Compared to Byron, Lilith has what seems like a relatively easy job in comparison. There's no real wrangling, the large white shepherd dog gets a Native American costume collar fitted over his existing sleek black leather one. The woman tucks the name and address tags under the adornment of it while stealing a glance over to make sure Byron isn't getting scratched up, cracking a bit of a lopsided grin at the puffy animal getting stuffed and poked into the costume. Then she's back to task to latch the band of the feathered headdress around the dog's head and ears. It's not really that hard. After some arranging to get the dog's ears unobstructed, she steps back with her hands on her hips to inspect the job.

Initially, the dog sits and looks back at Lilith like it's expecting a treat for sitting still through whatever this lady is doing to him. He hears her coo with 'aww' of approval while standing back to look at him and takes that as a cue to get excited. Immediately, the dog shakes his head with quick reflexes and force to knock the faux-feathered headdress off of it's head onto the floor and it starts to scamper toward the kitchen where the treats are stashed.

Quickly, the woman shoots a hand out to catch the dog by the collar and bid him sit by the door again so she can put the headdress on again, "... well. I don't know how Sirius feels about keeping it on. I think it's rubbing at his ears, I'm going to tighten it and scoot it forward on his head..." Hanging in lean over the dog to re-fit him with the costume piece, Lilith does a double take when Byron says he broke the cat, "How do you mean, you got him stuffed in there without bleeding, I count that as a win, babe." There's a pause as she looks a little longer and notices the cat pretty much has went... dead weight stare, "Oh wait, I think he's about to pounce and kill you. Are you having to hold him up?"

This time, the dog lays down once the headdress is on, because Lilith gives it the handsignal to. The white dog is less enthused about the costume and 'aww' noise this time around because he didn't get a treat for it the first time around. He puts his adorable dressed up feather-head between paws at rest before the woman murmurs, "Stay. Stay. Don't move. I'll go get you a treat and make sure your doggy daddy isn't about to get his eyes scratched out."

Attempting to get the cat used to wearing the costume, Byron grabs onto it's paw to exercise one of his front legs to show Smog/Smaug that yes, he can still move. "See. Like this. It's not overly constraining is it? Just move your paw like this. Like this." He starts work on one leg, then moves on to the other, shifting the cat to stand slightly, but still needing to be there before it toppled off of the window sill.

Seeing that Lilith isn't having the best success with the dog either with that Indian headdress does, at least, make him feel better. "That's a well-trained dog, just tell him to sit." He says while smiling widely as he continues to work on the cat's flexibility. "We'll definitely have to share part of our dinner with them both to make up for... whatever we're forcing them into now." All the while, Smog continues to stand there stiffly even as Byron tries to move his arms to get him more comfortable with the outfit. "I mean, if you were't busy already, I'd tell you to come over and look at it. I'm even trying to spread all four of his legs apart, but he keeps wanting to flop over." He tries to reposition the cat into a standing position again.

"So how are we doing this anyway? Unless you want a cat flopped over on its side, I might need to carry him during the picture taking." His voice then lowers to murmur, "Or to try and make him not think that this outfit will constrict him enough to actually allow him to sit on his own accord, but in that case, he may as well just fuck off and not cooperate." Either way, the cats looks ready for pictures even if Byron's sweatshirt is now covered in fur.

"Oh, we'll give them some cheese, they'll be fine. Who knows what serving them a Thanksgiving guilt plate will do, what if they start expecting that treatment?" Lilith watches Byron with the cat while taking a trip into the open, connected kitchen to get a piece of cheese for the dog as a treat, a human food treat at that! Someone is totally a hypocrit, especially when it comes to Sirius, she lets him have a bite of practically everything she's eating and calls it 'quality control' or bullshits about him being her 'poison tester'. Thankfully, it's a very expensively well-trained ex-force dog and she hasn't ruined behavior, for the most part. He might beg a little more, but still listens fine.

In fact, he's listening right now, still right where Lilith left him on the floor by the glass-paned cabin door, decorated head on paws. Even though he had his moment of looking pitiful there, he has noticed she's getting the cheese and gradually, the tail picks up with one thump, then another, then another against the wooden floor. Eating a piece of cheese for herself before closing the fridge, the woman continues to watch Byron with the cat, "... I can't decide if that's funny or sad, and I kind of want to see if he lands on his feet when he falls, because they're always supposed to, you know."

After twisting her lips briefly to one side, though, she gets two more little bits of cheese aside from the one she just ate and the dog cube of cheese from an appetizer plate stashed in the cooler. One, she brings to feed to Byron while talking, the other bit is much smaller and pinched off for the cat to have in front of the nose with an utter lack of interest, "Look, any time you can get an animal to hold still for a picture, it's a win. If you're holding him and he's not flailing, that's a win." The brunette pauses, though, seeming suddenly to take a certain amount of pity in a rare turn of heart moment when it comes to the cat, "Except he really does look kind of broken and he doesn't even want cheese. Aww. I'm terrible."

She doesn't seem to actually mind being terrible, though, because despite her pity, they're still taking the picture damnit, they've come this far. After delivering the treat to the dog at long last, it sits and seems to have forgotten something has been on its head while resting and awaiting cheese. That's good, it means he's not flopping it back off for the time being, so the woman gets on the camera set-up in a hurry. Picking a spot on the bar to set her phone a distance away on kickstand, aligned to capture near the chairs and fireplace mantle, she sets a timer and fetches the remote to click without prejudice for a slew of fast-capture images to sort through later and find the gold.

"Okay, look. You hold the cat and sit in that chair, I'll sit in this chair, the dog will sit between us with my hand on his back, and yours too if you want. I'm just going to snap a lot of pictures with click click click click so keep making memories until I say stop! But let's start with a really serious pose. And sit up straight so people can see our sweatshirts!"

After another glance at the cat while they set up in a series of progressive smiles or scowls or serious or silly poses for the camera, Lilith adds, "... they can have a Thanksgiving plate, too."

"Cheese? I was thinking turkey. But cheese is good for now." Byron is still trying to position the cat into a semblance of standing just as Lilith starts to feed him some cheese, something which he more than happily accepts, chewing with a smile. Smog doesn't seem as appreciative and he just has to scritch the cat's head, "We'll you get some turkey later." He tries several times more, just trying to get the thing to stand before he gives up and keeps his hands on the cat to hold it in place.

Once he has the cat settled, he glances over at Sirius, "Looks good. I'm glad someone's well-behaved, but I just think we need to get a larger size. Something to give the cat more freedom to move. I mean, imagine putting on a sweater that's several times too small." He's trying to imagine this now.

If anything, he's amused with Lilith giving the orders on where everyone should be positioned. "Looks like you're coming with me." He tells the feline, scooping it up in his arms and the thing just hanging there like a rag doll due to the costume. Settling himself into his appointed chair, he starts to fold the cat's arms beneath it like a breadloaf, so that it doesn't block off the 'Leg Day' wording and image across his sweatshirt. "You'll just have to endure this for another minute or so, then off with the costume and then we can move on with your lives. You and me both." His words come out humored and he's already in that 'smile for the camera' mood. A hand beneath the cat's chin works to prop it up so that his turkey headpiece covered head doesn't dip forward.

"Now, you're making me hungry." He says through a clenched toothed smile, before he relaxes his jaw to brandish an open mouthed smile the second time around.

"Is it too small or is he just too fluffy? Seeing him wet for washing has convinced me that he's sixty-eight percent fur, twenty-five percent dragon eyes, and seven percent cat." At least Lilith's percentage math adds up like it should. Then with chin up and a stately over-serious expression, she leads off the photos after another dog command to sit and stay and be still. Sirius had the cheese so he's all about trying to get more cheese by sitting up tall and regal when ordered, silly faux-feathered headdress just kind of working for the picturesque animal. Honestly, they're all quite picturesque despite the silly... except maybe the cat. But he's still at least, molding into the positions that Byron arranges him to.

There's not much to be done about that grumpy face and set of glaring eyes, though. So, after a few serious and smiling and downright laughing photos in small variation of seated, then standing poses, she tells Byron to make his best Smog/Smaug imitation glowers for the camera while she does the same. Lilith tells the dog to do it too, but he doesn't know how-- instead, the dog just looks goofily happy while everyone else is trying to channel the signature alley cat stankface rage. And with the last set, she's still clicking while rising to lean and smother Byron with kisses from behind. The dog tries to jump up on the arm of the chair and get in on it too for the last pictures, love ambush on the dark-haired man.

"Ta-da! You're all free. Strip at will. And speaking of turkey, it needs to come out and pies and casseroles need to go in on a timer." Lilith strips off her own sweatshirt to flick away triumphantly before freeing the dog of his collar and head-dress to pop the door back open for him to investigate what he missed outside during the whole camera debacle. Leaving her phone for the time being (and therefore missing the notification of missed call) she's headed toward the kitchen to do the oven swapping for the final leg before arranging finishing touches and stove bits for full meal time. And she does that in her bra and jeans and boots with a glance back over her shoulder.

"You're such a good sport, loverboy. Don't die freeing the cat from costume, I intend to make use of you while the timers tick countdown to dinner."

She doesn't say how she intends to make use, though.

"Probably that he's too fluffy." Byron admits, "He 's also got a big head compared to his body," Smaug since to take offense at his as he lets out a low mew, "It's true though. Don't give me that." He continues on. Byron does, not the cat, "But it wasn't the headpiece that was a problem. Well... not entirely. I'm sure the elation of a cat feeling as if he were moving into a small space quickly vanished when this thing just swallowed him up. Either that or he knows he looks ridiculous. One or the other."

With cat in hand, if not in a bread loaf position, sometimes Byron will have it stretched out as he holds it from its front two legs. Sometimes giving a snarl to the camera with their faces so closed to each other. Once he even has the cat held up with is positioned in front of him and somewhat between himself and Lilith as he turns to give the camera a show with a kiss, his face half-turned to partially look at the camera when doing so. There's even one picture where he's trying to set the cat down atop Sirius, but it's not going so well.

When Lilith creeps up behind him during their last set of pictures, Byron leans back in his chair, wearing a wide smile, lifting his chin to meet with her lips. Sirius joining them does cause a stir and the cat, while trying to get away from the intruding dog, falls off of Byron's lap, still trapped in his costume. It's quite the chaotic pic!

Now it was finally over and Byron leans down to scoop the paralyzed cat from where he lies on the floor. "Did you hear that? It's food time." He works on the cat before even attempting to remove his sweatshirt. First of all, the sweatershirt was comfy cozy. Secondly, it was attracting all the fur and could possibly take some of the clawing and biting that might occur. Boy was it a good thing that he left that sweatshirt on. The headdress was, while not simple, not so violent to remove. It's once the turkey head is gone and Byron is trying to pull out each of the cat's arms from the costume's sleeves does the biting and scratching take place as the growling cat tries to escape from his grasp while still being partially-costumed. "Stop it. Stop it!" Lilith hears him commanding the thing, "Look, I'm trying to get you out of this damn thing!" There's a lot of fur flying and low mews coming from the cat as both feline and human struggle with the turkey outfit.

"My scratched up body and infected wounds could probably make good use of you right about now." He murmurs, "Hey! HEY!" Finally, the costume is removed and flung towards the far corner of the room. Even the long sleeves of the sweatshirt does little to protect Byron's arms from bleeding, but it's his hands that are cut the fuck up. Smog leaps from the man's arms and zooms off to who knows where, probably to lick his wounds, which would be Byron's wounds as he'd be licking off Byron's blood from his claws.

Lilith is pretty busy in the kitchen, so she mostly hears instead of sees the carnage of removing Smog/Smaug from costume. Part of her wants to crack up laughing on the spot, but that's kind of mean... also she's the one that went foisting the cat-task on Byron with her special holiday idea, "... at least you know he isn't broken?" The woman calls out over her shoulder while the man is trying to manage feline fury, quite dutifully swapping out the golden, long-roasted turkey for cooling and carving. Then pies go into one of the double ovens, casseroles are swapped in and out, and pots are put to low simmer on the stove.

And she's doing it all in her bra because she had dog hair all over her sweatshirt and cast it aside after the pictures were done. Meanwhile, Byron is wrangling a pissed off cat and the oh-so-well-behaved, expensive white dog has darted off of the porch to kill a bird while they're distracted. The couple puts off a lovely social image, especially when putting on for his business and entertaining investors. But the actual Thorne family at Thanksgiving out of the public eye is a totally different kind of showing, slightly chaotic and silly and rife with affection. Lilith is practically giddy inside with the homey home-away-from-home feel of it all, it's something they made.

Lilith finishes quickswapping things around and starts to get out of her boots while turning toward the living area again from inside the open kitchen space. She catches the tail end of the struggle between Byron and the cat, and after seeing the man's hands, there's absolutely no sense of wanting to laugh at all. In fact, she kind of wants to kick the cat, but again, it was her idea, so she doesn't go to temper. Instead, she huffs out exasperation at the cat licking paws, "Ugh, you dramacat, he was on your side, now look what you've done..."

Making a little 'tsst' of noise, she leans to finish unlacing her boots and gets out of them, just jeans and bra now while she makes her way to have a closer look, "We'll see all the pictures of our little session later and decide it was worth the blood, you know. But jeeeeez-louise-almighty, he got a hold of you. Come on, up and to the bathroom sink, strip that cat-hair-catcher on the way so we can have a good look at your arms too."

Once they're moved out of the room, the phone starts to buzz again, this time with double text alert.

Byron is licking his wounds at the moment, not literally, of course. That's what the cat is doing. But he does roll up his sleeves to inspect the damage done and boy are there some angry looking scratches up his forearm where the claws on his back feet got involved. When Lilith joins him, there's this slightly annoyed look on his face that completely switches over to something more amused for her sake. "Oh, I'm sure the pictures are worth it. I can picture Isabella commenting on our shirts right now actually."

Quickly removing the sweatshirt and tossing it to join with Lilith's was a terrible idea because some of the fabric was started to cling to the abrasion. At the bathroom sink, he turns on the hot water to run his hands and forearms under, before opening up the cabinet to rummage through what kind of first aid items they had on hand in this cabin. Of course, he doesn't expect Lilith to magically heal him, especially something so minor, but they probably would want to disinfect it because cat mouths carry a lot of bacteria.

"Dinner smells good, still looking forward to that." He then informs her, "I'm just going to get this cleaned up and disinfected and slap some band aids on, wrap it beneath some bandages and call it a night. Even with the water running, the dark-haired man thinks he heard one of their phones vibrating. "Was that mine or yours? I think it was yours."

It was Lilith's idea to put the cat in costume and Byron ended up injured for it (however relatively minor). If they were at home, she wouldn't have even much asked, she just would have made it better on principle. But here, out in the middle of nowhere, she doesn't leap to the same conclusions over what to do about scratches and cuts, even though she could probably swing it. Her mind just isn't there, so after following the man into the bathroom, she watches him at the sink a moment, then glances back over her bare shoulder with her bottom lip working between her teeth, "I don't know."

There's a certain lack of concern to the idea of her phone going off while Byron is shirtless and bent over the sink. Instead of going right out to check, she edges to stand behind him and starts to kiss along his shoulderblade, across the spine, then to the other side, hands spanning rubbing at his lower back, "Food will make it better. I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd be so damn perilous." This time, her phone starts to buzz again, but with ringing and it falls off of the counter from being vibrated to clatter and get Lilith's attention. Knitting her brows, she turns to pad out of the bathroom with a 'goddamnit' and comment about how it's probably Chantal.

When the brunette woman gets in there and leans to pick up the phone, it's still buzzing with ring from an Unknown number. Without really thinking twice about it, she answers with a 'hey' and then pauses at what comes out of the other end of the phone.

---

(phone)

"Hey, what took you so--"

Now, now. Don't get excited, it's just me, darling.

"Seriously? It's Thanksgiving. I'm being thankful. You're interrupting."

Oh, I know it's Thanksgiving and you should be thankful. I've done you yet another favor.

"No one asks for your fucking favors, don't call them that."

You get mad when I call my attentions a gift, too. I am capable of both, you know.

"You're capable of a lot, I'll give you that. What'd you do?"

I imagine you're wondering why Chantal isn't returning your calls and texts.

"... how did you... what did you... you fucking psychopath, what did you DO?"

---

Byron only hears half the conversation, but he's hearing enough. He hears the moment her temper snaps like a great tree breaking in the woods.

Getting rid of the fresh blood dripping down his arms, Byron is further appeased by the trail of kisses that Lilith burns against his shoulderblades and down his back. "Food? I could go for a little more of that." He says of the kissing, his smile broadening as he looks down at his wet hands. The marks were still there, angry and red, but her doting seems to have lightened his mood further. The smile remains when he looks at his reflection in the mirror, watching Lilith make her exit to check on her phone before swinging open the cabinet to pull out some ointment.

He's drying off his arms and hands with a tissue from the box in the bathroom rather than stain any of the towels. There's only one person who Lilith was expecting to hear from and that was Chantal, so he doesn't think anything of the call at first. Once his skin is dried, he squirts some of that ointment over each of the red lines that scrape against his flesh, feeling the sting of both the medication and just the wounds being touched. It's hard to miss the agitation in Lilith's by now and he's already applying the first gauze over a large section of his arm to cover it over completely as he prepares to keep the gauze in place with some medical tape. "Lil? Is that Chantal?"

The sound of the tape peeling from off the role and then being torn at just the right length can be heard, but to get a better feel of the discussion going on in the other room, Byron shuts off the water tap. He's only able to tape up most of one arm before he abandons the task to check in on the angry brunette.

Turner...

The man's face turns stony serious now, his pace picking up and he has this strong urge to snatch the phone from out of Lilith's hand just so he can speak to the guy himself. In fact, he reaches out to do just that, his hand gripping over hers, their gaze meeting, but soon enough that hold loosens. He didn't want to jeopardize Lilith's finding out what happened to Chantal.

Seeing Byron come back into the room with his hand already lifting to make that contact with her hand the second he's near enough, Lilith is jolted out of her sputtering rage and flush to look at the man's fingers gripping, then loosening. Honestly, she was tempted to mindlessly throw the phone, so it's a bit of lucky timing and self-control that keeps that from happening. Byron can hear the faded, almost delighted man laughter on the other end of the phone as it comes away from her ear. She puts it on speakerphone so the man can hear, but keeps hold of the phone to speak right near the mic, so it's less obvious that she's using speaker to talk.

She has to take a composing breath before actually talking and steps over into Byron, both of them sans sweatshirt to be mostly skin to skin now.

---

Why are you so mad already? Mmm, did you turn that lovely shade when you saw red?

"Stop. I know what you're doing. Just stop and tell me what you did."

Stop? Should I hang up?

"Goddamnit, Grant..."

Tit for tat, darling. Answer a question and I'll answer yours.

---

Lilith pulls the phone away from her mouth like having it close with Turner's voice is suddenly akin to toying with a venomous snake. After eyeing the device a moment, she looks at Byron, then gusts a sigh before continuing. Reaching her free hand up, she rubs against the side of Byron's neck and shoulder, both as a bid to center herself, and perhaps him. She knows he doesn't like standing by and listening to Turner taunt her with the power of knowing something she doesn't know, something that's sounding like his arranging.

---

"... okay. One question. One single question."

Who bought your private jet plane ticket out of Miami, Lilith?

"... why does that matter?"

Who were you with the night before? Who told you to run from me?

"Grant, that's not entirely why I left Miami, I had..."

WHO HELPED YOU RUN FROM ME, LILITH?

"No one! I ran on my own! I was fucking done! I didn't want to be followed!"

Who TOLD you that you were being followed and bought that plane ticket, Lilith?

---

Now. Lilith seems to really not want to answer that question. The fact that she doesn't want to answer the question is pissing Turner off immensely and he's starting to verbally corner her like a rabbit. Her tone is more defensive than angry, despite still being relatively snippy, and Byron can see the woman's sudden concern. She goes silent.

---

You're still there. Are you weighing, darling? Don't you want to know all about my favor?

"If I tell you... and she's..."

She's not dead, what do you take me for?

"Jax. Okay? But I left on my own. He wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know."

... the bartender?

"That's a second question."

Alas, you gave me an answer I don't like. When I've decided you --deserve-- to know, I'll call back."

---

The phone call ends and Lilith's jaw drops like she can't believe he just hung up on her like a toddler throwing a fit, "That son of a bitch!"

Byron has to fight to control himself even more now that the conversation was on speaker phone, but his curiosity is quenched, at the very least. He doesn't want to jeopardize anything with his outburst, so he'll let the psychopath continue to talk as he tries to figure out by Turner's words alone at just how much danger Chantal might be in or any other sign that may be picked up in his tone. Lilith's moving in close against him has both of his his arms snaking around her even though the urge to snatch the phone from her is great still, despite the speaker on the other end being able to hear him without his having access to the phone. It's a force of habit in his own agitation. While he might not care about Chantal, herself, Grant Turner always rubbed him the wrong way.

He knows that the other man sometimes has spies tailing them, but at the moment, his own guys were somewhere outside, trying to look inconspicuous as to not draw attention to the place with their presence. There's that bit of paranoia that arises in his mind.

The conversation continues with Turner making demands on Lilith, raising his voice and accusing... someone of aiding her in an attempt to force some answers out of her. Turning, he's searching the room for his phone. If he puts a tail out on Turner now, maybe someone can figure out what exactly is going on. When Turner's voice booms from out of the phone, Byron looks as if he might just hang up on the man, himself, but it seems that something new was revealed to him.

And then? The line is dropped and all that Byron can feel is frustrated that he wasn't able to tell the guy off. Moving to get to his phone to put out a call, he tells her, "I'm sending someone over there to keep an eye on him. He's bound to fuck up at some point. I wish your friend were smarter." Then we wouldn't be in this mess, is what he wants to add, but he holds his tongue about that. Yes, he's not happy with this Chantal at all.

"He doesn't get to speak to you like that." Scrolling through his contacts list, he eyes several private investigator names like Alexander Clayton and Magnolia Jones. He knows that he'd be sending them out in the field, but both were more than capab.. well, he has some faith in Clayton despite the awkwardness. "This Jax? He gonna be okay? You might want to contact him."

Lilith bats her lashes a few times fast and puts a hand back through her hair while Byron goes for his own phone, "Over where? The man could be anywhere. I don't want to ruin Thanksgiving. We have men around, there's no way for someone to get to the road that leads to the cabin without you knowing." The woman wanders to the door to let the dog in because it's scratching and she doesn't even realize he's brought a dead bird inside like a prize to roast with the turkey. Not immediately, anyway. She notices she has a missed text and immediately opens her messages, but... it's just a mass Happy Thanksgiving message from one of her auction consult clients.

Sirius sits with his caught prey, proud as can be, but at the moment, both humans seem occupied. Helpfully, he takes it to drop on the tile by the fireplace where they took their pictures earlier. Unwitting, Lilith turns to walk up behind Byron and rubs one hand up and down with slide on his bare back, phone in her other hand, "It's okay. He'll call back. Whatever he did, he wants to brag about it. That's why he's calling it a favor, maybe it's not a bad thing. He's just having a tantrum and putting his hand at ruining our holiday. Do you want to answer the call when it comes?"

Handing her phone around, the brunette woman kisses against Byron's back with up and down brushes along his spine. She was mad, frustrated, and worried, just like Turner wanted her to be, but she doesn't like seeing the tension along the dark-haired man's bared back. In some way, it kicks her into a state of soothing damage-control, she hates her old-life shit-complications cropping up to bring down the mood of their whole Thanksgiving, "One of your surprises is a massage. There’s also a video I made last Thanksgiving for you to watch.“ For a moment as she's doting, the brunette turns her cheek in against the man's skin while leaning her weight into him from behind, one arm looping his waist.

... it lets her finally see the proud dog and dead bird at the fireplace. She’ll deal with that in a minute, maybe Byron won’t notice.

"That's what the P.I. is being paid to determine." Byron says in quick response to the 'Where is Grant Turner' question. "They can do their research, use their contacts. Turner's not an average Joe, so I'm sure it won't be long to figure out through the tabloids just where he is." He quickly starts to tap out a message on his phone, before pausing before sending, his gaze watching Lilith as she goes about whatever else she's doing. "I'm not trying to find him for us. We can handle ourselves. And right, I have several guards on duty." Eyes narrow thoughtfully, trying to gauge the woman's urgency in finding her friend. Someone who he has no personal ties to.

Since Lilith doesn't seem interested in trying to find the missing woman right away, Byron deletes the message he was going to send to Alexander. He would've normally have chosen Magnolia, but she has a child, something Alexander does not. So if he had to be sent out to another city to keep tabs on Turner, the detective wasn't taking care of anyone. Instead, he selects the name of the head security contractor outside, letting him know that they had a threatening call and keep on the look out for any of Turner's goons just in case.

Byron, himself, was still only half-patched up. The length of his right arm is covered in anti-bacterial ointment, but lacks the gauze and bandaging that the opposite hand was afforded. Feeling the brunette's hands move along his bared flesh, he lowers his phone after the message was sent. "Are you going to call and warn this other friend of yours?" He keeps his back to her for the moment, his gaze staring out ahead towards one of the windows.

"Is it wise of me to answer the call? What if it puts your friends in further danger?" Only then does he turn to take a glance over his shoulder, only to catch sight of part of her dark hair as she kisses him along the spine. Byron knows the sorts of things he would do if he were in the other man's shoes. He wouldn't let a holiday stand in the way of revenge. He's a good pretender though, so as it seems like Lilith wants to brush this under the rug, he lets his muscles untense, his body relaxing somewhat. He even smiles,feeling the nuzzling behind him. "Ugly sweatshirts, dinner, a massage and what's probably a sensuous video. You've really thought of everything." Leaning into her for a time, he rests his hands upon her arms when they circle his waist.

One of her hands is lifted to his lips for a kiss. "I'll finish wrapping up the other arm..." That's when he notices the dog coming in with something in his mouth, his gaze following the K9 to the fireplace. "Sirius..." If the cat wasn't being trouble enough for the night. "You finish with dinner and I'll clean that up after I bandage my arm."

Turner is not who Lilith wanted to hear from today, at all. He's utterly mad from time to time, slippery as a snake most other times. Yes, the man was taunting her, but it wasn't why he called, he had called proud as a peacock until the conversation went and left a bitter, vengeful taste in his mouth. He wanted to brag, maybe he legitimately did something useful or good. Granted, last time he wanted to brag... it enacted all this fuss over Chantal's well-being. His 'gift' of retribution on pieces of Lilith's past is still not something she's sure she wants, especially given all this new worry about collateral damages all around.

Though the woman is doting on Byron and resting with cheek at his back, her mind is cycling through issue after issue. It's not something she's trying to dwell on, the lift of her hand up to Byron's lips brings her out of thoughtful, hugging silence, "I don't have his number. And Grant might be jockeying my phone. Maybe I can send him like... a facebook message or something less... ugh. I need to think. I'm going to put on an apron and do that in the kitchen. Mwah. Mwahmwah. Mwah." She balms her creep of anxiety with a few noisier, more rambunctious kisses against the man's back before they break.

"I'm going to strip my jeans off too and just wear an apron and my underwear, it's easier than getting dressed and has the bonus of being accidentally photogenic." Lilith looks at the dog while stepping back with hands gathering up her hair to twist up and away from her face in preparation for more kitchen time, "... I think he wants you to roast it for him, didn't you want our poor, abused animals to have a good Thanksgiving too?"

Once Lilith is alone in the kitchen and Byron is either on bird duty or in the bathroom, she really has to take a moment to grit her teeth when she opens the freezer and sees the vodka she's keeping stored there for mixed drinks. Instead of swigging straight from the bottle like she's wanting to do, she sets her anxiety into bustle and humming along with satellite radio. If she seems a bit fidgety or forced into 'everything is okay' mode, at least the apron-intimates combination look is a lovely distraction from it.

"Facebook?" Byron laughs when she brings this up. "If you gave me his name, I can probably have someone do a search on him. Get his number. Something." He's not sure what Grant was planning to during the holidays. If anything. But with so many people on Turner's payroll, it would be easy to have one of those employees handle things for him regarding this as well. These are things that Byron thinks about.

"Anyway, I'm sure that this can wait til later." In truth, he's not sure. The loud and dramatic kisses at his back gets another laugh and he turns around within her embrace to nuzzle his face against her hair before she departs. Despite what he said earlier about bandaging up first, he heads over to the fireplace and the white dog to make sure that the canine's not making a mess with its kill.

"We've already got you dinner." He says somewhat sternly, lowering himself into a crouch to examine the bird to see if it's actually dead or merely injured. Then something that Lilith says piques his full attention, making him quickly rise to look her way. "Accidentally photogenic? There's no accident about it once you're stripped down." Looking back to the dog in that firm manner, he starts his way over to Lilith to wrap his arms around her briefly and give her a kiss in passing, his hands rubbing up and down her sides and midsection, "Let me know if you need any help with that." Except, you know, soon he'll have he'll be touching bird corpse.

Once done, he returns to the bathroom to wrap up his right arm. It takes some time to apply the gauze and then wrap things up, but this isn't something that Byron isn't unused to... the patching himself up part. When that's complete and everything is neatly put away, he looks over at Lilith to see how she's faring and to also admire her from afar. "I'm just glad that all of the difficult stuff is already done or else I'd be too distracted to be any help in the kitchen." He has a towel with him in which he plans to wrap the bird up in.

Lilith is all nuzzle and smiles for the doting as Byron detours into the kitchen to get a full view and feel of her in just unmentionables and an apron, her jeans peeled away now too. She also looks to have everything well in hand with organization and final turns in the oven and stove. The bird is quite dead for the towel and thankfully, Sirius hasn't made too much mess of it by setting into the meat and wings and bones with his teeth. It looks like it was a shake kill, grabbed at the head and shook to snap the neck, and it's thankfully not a raven or anything, just a little brown woodsy sparrow variety.

"There's not a lot left, the most you have to do is carve the bird, I think. As for what you were asking earlier... his name is Noah Oliver Jackson... otherwise known as Jax. He's thirty-two and originally from Perth, Australia. I think he still would live in Miami. If one of your guys wants to do some digging for me to get his personal cell number, I guess it'd be okay to prepare for that, otherwise, I'll call a bar or two tomorrow and see what I can get."

It takes some time, but Lilith finally tells Byron some details about this 'bartender' of phone mention. It's when he comes back in with the towel to pick up the bird and dispose of it, which she comes to watch him do with wandering detour. The ovens and stove are both off, contents awaiting transfer onto the countertops and bar where the woman has arranged what's done like a picturesque assembly line. There's no big dining table and it's just the two of them with pets, so they have a plate-making-station setup instead and can eat wherever they damn well please when it's time, there's plenty of options, "What are you going to do with that?"

Knowing that he wasn't going to toss the bird into the trash inside of the cabin, Byron's wrapped himself up in a luxurious robe with the lodge's name printed on it. He wouldn't be outside for long, right? Either the way, the air was nippy out there. Looking directly at the pup, he makes sure that the dog sees him wrapping the corpse up in a towel. It's not really right to scold the thing, because he is just a dog, but the last thing he wants is for it bring all sorts of hunting trophies back to them, so for now, he gives the creature a stern look. "Next time, bring flowers or something." He then rubs at the top of the dog's head before gathering up the the morbid bounty to dispose of.

All the while he's mentally reminding himself of this name Lilith gives him and any other information she decides to offer. "I'll let them know." He then pauses before he makes his exit, "Probably just toss it into the trash outside."

The air is incredibly chilly outside and he's glad that he's not walking out there bare chested. A quick scan picks out several of his own guys. The one he'd texted earlier steps forward for a quiet exchange. Rather than have the guy look up this Noah Jackson, Byron hands the bird to him as he pulls up his own phone after wiping his hands off on his robe. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he types the name in, "Huh, that didn't take too long."

A social media darling when it comes to bartending. Seems to be well off enough. Won some hottest bartender award. Byron has to smirks a bit about that. Got his own catering company. Partnered with a small bar. He scans the information for phone numbers and addresses before heading back in.

Making his return, he checks to see what Lilith is up to now, the phone still in hand, "I've pulled up some information on him with just a Google search. Not a hard man to find." He thinks that way of Turner as well though. "Did you want to try and reach out to him now or wait til later?" He's not being pushy. If anything, he was curious about this guy who helped to get Lilith out of Miami.

When Byron comes back in, Lilith has almost finished arranging a spread that spans partially along it and the counter tops with finger foods, side dishes, and main course meats and rolls. The pies are in the oven to keep warm longer and have far later, but the oven itself is off so no mishap can be had. It smells amazing and they have far too much food for just themselves. However, they also have men along at various places around the secluded cabin site who will be getting their to-go plates delivered at some point for an on-the-job kind of holiday perk. They're also being paid dearly, but a holiday meal helps.

Turning to look at Byron with his phone in hand, she poses in her little apron and black undergarments combo in front of the food, "Sexiest thing you've ever seen, tons of food and woman in the same frame, huh?" She didn't miss his question about when to contact Jax, though. Visibly, she thinks on it while sliding her hands down her hips where they rest in pose, stepping forward toward the man, "I'll... try him on your phone, let me see what you found for numbers. Before I do that, though, we need to decide if we actually want to dress to eat, or do it in robes in front of the television like true gluttons. We can take the obligatory selfie and call holiday pictures done, no need to dress up at all."

While she's talking, she puts her hand out for the phone and starts to untie her apron, features a bit apprehensive for one reason or another. But she seems to be pulling off casual well enough about just getting the call over and done with, "Not only that, but when you're good and full, you're getting the massage and video... which I admit, is probably not as hot as you might be expecting."

Lilith is often able to bring a smile to the Byron's lips and she does just this when she poses for him in her underthings and that apron. In fact, he brings his phone up to snap a quick picture or two, so that this moment of culinary sexy will forever be preserved. He knows enough to not upload it to any cloud nor does he store it in his encrypted security database. No, this one will remain on his phone for personal use. "The food isn't necessary to make all my dreams come true, but it does help."

Meeting the blue-eyed brunette part-way, Byron's shows her one of the pictures he'd just taken, one with her hand at her hip, before he flips through to pull up both the various contact information that he'd found for this Jax, as well as the actual phone interface, so it's easier for her to switch between them. "You really think that Turner's got your number monitored? If so, we should try to do something about that."

He then laughs, "Are we taking any more pictures? If we're not, there's no one here to tell us that we're doing Thanksgiving wrong." Who were they going to try and impress? His mother wasn't here. "Let's just hope that I don't send out the wrong pictures, even though if I did, it would send out a clear message to them that no, I don't wish that they were here with us." Handing the phone over now that everything's set up he finishes with, "I'll leave the to dress up or not option to you." With her apron now off, he comes to stand behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, looming over her shoulder as she checks out his phone.

"And look, you can't make anything not hot. Hot or not, though, I'm not turning down a good massage from a sexy lady."

"I don't know. Feels like it sometimes. Maybe he just has the satellite positioning thing hacked somehow, I don't know. Or maybe there's nothing. Wouldn't put it past him to play voyeur like that to whatever degree, even if it is just... call records and numbers he gets from the phone company or something. Mostly, I treat him like a CIA operative at this point, who knows who his crazy ass can buy."

Lilith takes comfort in Byron's compliments, they make her smile despite what comes out of her mouth about Turner shortly there after. There's wiggling nuzzle of relish for the man's body once he has arms around her, weight leaning back to let him partially support her in snuggle-lazing fashion, "Sexy lady at your service, babydoll." Then she takes to planning aloud while viewing the info, "Couch. Food. Fireplace or TV view. Maybe the video. Lazy-cozy selfies... then massage you into a coma. We're pretty good at Thanksgiving."

The woman seems a bit hesitant to start with what looks like the most personal number tied to the man's name via phone provider. Instead, she decides to start with what's old and familiar-- Lilith tries the main VIP club and bar where Jax is still management and bartending, no doubt raking in cash among the elite crowds. As she expected, she gets an answering service, the club isn't open. It was a good and brave practice run, though, he COULD have been there doing inventory or in the office while the place is closed. After hanging up, she does what she should have done to begin with... she calls the man's mobile.

It takes a few rings, but the Australian-accent on the man when he does pick up is unmistakable. Once he does, Lilith clicks it to speaker so Byron can hear, it's just easier that way.

---

Oi, and just who are you, holiday stranger?

"... uhh."

... you're not a bot-call.

"No, it's..."

Forgive me, love. A bit into the holiday cups. Who're you looking for?

"I'm looking to talk to you, Jax. Congrats on your new side venture."

Thank y'kindly, but I can't say I recog--

"No? I think you do."

... Briar fucking Rose.

---

The man sounds stunned and apparently has a nickname for Lilith that comes out with husky affection amidst the surprise. Lilith lifts up one of Byron's hands to brush a kiss on one of the tiny scratches on a knuckle that wasn't worth bandaging. Her own tone of voice is pretty rich with subtle fond familiarity, despite her false start and the subsequent brusque approach to what she needs to say.

---

"Hello, Adonis." Pause, then sigh, "Listen. I'd like to say this is a pleasantry call, but it's not. Turner might be pissy with you about old news."

... bloody hell, do you have a death wish, beauty? I thought you were done. Tell me the cunt hasn't gotten his claws in you again.

"No, no. We're not, he's stalking me, it's a fucking to-do. But that's why I'm calling. Put your guard up. Might be nothing, but..."

Turner's going to Turner, isn't he? Yeah, I'll watch out. Are you okay, love?

"Yes, I am. I promise. More than okay. I can't really get into any of this right now, nor do I know how much I should even say, but... keep an eye out for Chantal too, okay?"

Are you about to hang up on me?

"I am. Take care of yourself, Adonis."

Don't. I'm not them.

"I know, Jax. Believe me, I know. We'll talk soon, okay? I have to go."

Wait, where are...?

---

Lilith hangs up and hands the phone back to Byron when finished and apparently "Thanks. Unfortunately, that's about all I can do. I can't answer any questions he'll have. It was better to shut them down before they started..." There's a pause, then a glance up and over her shoulder, "Unhook my bra? No one wears a bra with a plush robe, that's madness."

"Might need to look for a way to track that kind of thing or be alerted to it, then shut it down." Byron says with a slow nod, knowing that Turner has the money to fund crazy things like that. In this moment, he allows himself to briefly ponder on who he may contact for such a job. Maybe that girl who works at the gaming store. He'll figure it out later. Tonight was mostly reserved for other things even if he's the type who feels obligated to plot out his next course of action as soon as the issue arises.

He waits patiently with Lilith still in his arms as she starts to dial up for the first number. Nothing for the first number and while he doesn't mean to seem like he's spying, the screen to his phone was right there, glowing up at him, so from where he's positioned, it's hard not to take notice of everything that she may be doing. The next number seems to be the winner, his arms around her waist start to draw her in closer against him as if on instinct as he prepares to drop silent to not interfere with her conversation like the last time.

Byron has no real opinion of this man through most of the conversation. He just knows that the guy was friends with Lilith back in the day and anything else he may have learned from his Google search. The dark-eyed man may be more paranoid and suspicious of people, even friends, more than Lilith is, so some of what Jax says gets his self-preservation alarm bells to kick in. Then the all is over and he just has to ask, "Do you trust that Turner hasn't already gotten to him?" His voice may hold a cautious and wary tone, but there's also a sense of curiosity to be heard.

Even as he asks, he works to unhook her bra, only feeling the mild stinging from just these minor movements. Cuts to your hand can make any hand movement more painful that they have any right to be. He'll even help her out of the straps, returning to something she'd mentioned before the call. "Mm, all of the above. We can skip the tv for the video, something that I'm looking forward to."

"I trust that they're two entirely different breeds of men. It's unlikely one would want much to do with the other." Lilith tells Byron with a certain firm decisiveness in her tone about any possible dealings or acquainting. After grazing her lip with her teeth, feeling the hooks and straps of her bra unclasp and slide away with push from behind, she adds, "Anything is possible at this point, I guess. He doesn't need to know or worry about any more than what I've already told him, regardless."

Huffing out a sigh of air, Lilith then spins around to pull her bra the rest of the way off as a flashy quick striptease for Byron while he holds her, bidding her face up for a kiss, "I'm going to get a robe and my laptop for video while you carve us off some bird. Then we'll make plates to eat and post up to watch." Also, Lilith honestly needs a minute to let her guard down and shake off some of the worry and anxiety Turner's call caused, going to get changed and settled while he carves is a pretty on-point excuse to take that tiny spell of composure time for the sake of maintaining the happy holiday she's so hellbent on having with Byron.

At some point, both cat and dog have a cheater plate of meats for Thanksgiving and Lilith and Byron have their loaded plates. The migrate to the couch as planned and use the coffeetable as a dining and viewing setup for her laptop, very full glasses of red wine accompanying the meal, "Let me know when you're ready to hit play. You have to groan about how good the food is first, though. I'm talking like... orgasm groan, as much effort as it was for us."

Either way, Byron will be on the ready if the Jax ever called him at his number. There's something alluring about seeing Lilith's bountiful and feminine physique being only partially hidden behind the little apron which she wears. The garment obscures some of her figure, while showing him teasing hints of some of her curves, whether from the side of the apron or pressed against the fabric. There's a lift of his brows when his dark eyes give her the once over, biting down at his own lips which form a faint grin. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Once she departs to throw on a robe, Byron is already looking down at his phone again, studying the personal phone number of the Aussie. He does nothing with it for the time and simply slips it into the robe pocket. Now on to tackle the turkey carving. The delicious aroma of their meal wafts through the main room of the cabin. As he carves, his mind considers Turner. Jax. Laurent and Camilla. He even thinks back on his mother's absence, because usually he makes sure that they share a meal. If not for Thanksgiving dinner, due to his being in one relationship or other and spending the holidays with whoever he was dating at the time, then the lunch beforehand or after.

He gives Lilith a kiss to her forehead on her return and the pair of them load their plates up with everything that Thanksgiving has to offer. The cat and dog are fed and he even makes a container of food to give to the head of his security detail, kept in an insulated bag, since he expects them to eat in shifts. No alcohol is involved, but he does order a delivery of coffee to sate them all.

With plated food in hand, he drops down in the couch, already picking at his food. It was hard to resist with how good it all smelled. Then Lilith dropped a bomb on him and he gives her this look of 'You've got to be kidding me', but still looking slightly amused all the same. Licking at his lips, he takes a stab at a slice of turkey, pairing it up with some stuffing. Dark eyes watch her as he slowly lifts the fork to his lips, opening his mouth in that same-slow motion before his lips press down around the fork. An exaggerated growl vibrates through his throat, followed by a just as dramatic 'Mmmmm... Oh God that's good." He does this all while giving her his own version of a seductive gaze, before his eyes close shut, being too lost in the bliss of deliciousness. Obviously, it's not to the same extent as if they were having sexy, that in itself, would be hot and heavy. His lids then lift, dark eyes on again, before he busts out into a cheeky grin. "Don't ask me to do that again."His fork blends some of the stuffing with cranberry jelly, which he delivers to his mouth, never taking his gaze off of her.

"I won't have to ask you to do it again, that was excellent." Lilith tells Byron while wearing an utterly shit-eating grin that only grows with amusement into bright flash of full smile when she speaks, "I was only expecting a single moan from the gut, but I got the verbal too." She's clearly pleased and fond as hell over his playing along with gusto for her silly request. While he gazes on her, she keeps the smile for a little longer and just gazes back, intake of breath snapping her out of a little bit of a lovestruck moment with eyes for eyes, "Happy Thanksgiving."

The woman stabs a celebratory combination bite of turkey, stuffing, and swipe of cranberry sauce onto her fork to feed to Byron like a cheers, then leans in over his plate for him to do the same for her. Might as well be feeding each other a form of holiday wedding cake, sharing and grinning like that. While settling back upright with her own plate held to resume meal, Lilith eyes the laptop for a beat, "So I should warn you, this might get a little emotional. I recorded it overnight on the balcony when I couldn't sleep... the night of Thanksgiving last year."

They both know what happened last year. They had a meal with Byron's mother, but they were also drawn into a rather terrible Dream where their glimmer didn't work on what they faced. It was especially unnerving, as it was the first time they had seen that. Also, just a couple of weeks before, Lilith had been found in the woods after a week of being Gone, having found her way back by the skin of her teeth. She hadn't much talked about what happened during that time and Byron didn't want to upset her by making her re-hash.

Leaning forward, she uses one hand to click the video to play and turns up the volume before settling back in next to Byron to eat and watch.

Was Byron embarrassed due to acting like a fool for love (and food)? Probably a little. His cheeks are flushed with a hint of color, but it's something easily dismissed and he seems slightly amused by it all. Call it acting. With their eyes locked, he leans forward to nuzzle his nose against hers, "Happy Thanksgiving." He then takes a bite of the forkful of Thanksgiving goodness that she feeds him, before he returns the favor with the mixture of turkey, stuffing and a kick of cranberry. A deep swallow of wine washes down the festive flavor in his own mouth. Both are then given the time to eat and drink and be merry, but obviously, he's curious about the laptop on the coffee table, but he'll only wait for her to bring it up rather than inquire about it himself.

When she does though, his plate lowers after shoveling in another forkful of food into his mouth before he sets the plate down entirely, next to the laptop, to free his hands up. Sure, he remembers last Thanksgiving. That really was a terrible evening and one of the last times that he'd spent with his mother. There's still this bright look of anticipation on his face, but the solemn understanding of everything she says of this is made perfectly clear.

Reposition himself, so that rather than sitting side by side, he scoots in close to her, crooking his leg nearest Lilith at the knee before pulling her in against him, his other leg still hanging off the couch cushion. Maybe he was too excited to eat right now. She did say that this might be emotional and he has a feeling that it wouldn't just be emotional for him. With his arms wrapped around Lilith loosely, still allowing her the opportunity to eat, he looks on the screen waiting for the show to start.

It was fascinating to Byron that Lilith recorded this exactly one year from today, well, one year in holiday terms. She had the thought to record all of this and unleash her own emotions to him through a recording. Something which she then kept this whole time. She helps to conjure up a year old memory of an interesting and rather frightening evening. His memories of that night are brought back completely and yet, even now he begins to push that all out of his mind to take in everything else that Lilith needs to tell him.

Sometimes her smile brings a faint one to his lips, to hear her laugh. Though at other times, he knows that she must be utterly frazzled and he doesn't blame her, observing her taking hits of her joint. There are things that she says, even when she's not smiling nervously or flushed with emotion, that also gets him to smile. If not smile, then to feel this sense of pride and warmth in his chest. The arms wrapped around her, shift again, tightening his grip as he's moved by just watching her beautiful face and seeing that happy, and yet still sad or was it tears of happiness, he's not quite sure... but that look on her face as she kisses the camera. Then again, finally seeing those tear spill when she tells him she loves him and wishes him a Happy Thanksgiving for this year.

This is followed up with by silence for a few seconds.

"Wow. Just... Did you record all of that knowing that you would play it for me today?" Turning to look on Lilith's features, one of his hands lifts to rub a crooked finger along her cheek. "That was... I don't even think that I could put my emotions into words the way you do." While Byron might have a silver tongue at times and appears to be the charismatic sort, he was hardly poetic. Leaning in to press a kiss against the cheek that he was just grazing, he murmurs, "I love you so much, Lilith Rose Thorne." It's still hard to say whether they were married or not right now, but the world seems to think so and that is their new reality. His arms tighten more firmly, his chin lowered to nuzzle his cheek against her face.

Initially keeping her plate of food, Lilith leans back against Byron while nestled and scooted against him in the cozy crook of his bent leg on the couch. She's seen the video before, of course, she recorded it, she knows what's on it. She even watched it the other day to get a refresh of what all she actually said on it, so she doesn't... expect to get too emotional over it. Mostly, she's looking forward to seeing Byron's reaction. But the longer she sits watching and stealing little glances up and aside at the man while he's riveted to watching the laptop screen with those intense dark eyes she loves so much, the more she slows eating.

Finally, at some point there toward the end before the music starts playing, she leans forward to put her partially finished plate on the coffee table parallel to Byron's own put aside. Like him, she takes a large drink from her wine glass to wash it all down, then turns some to hug on the man in seated position while the rest of the video she recorded plays out. Then there's silence. The brunette is a bit misty-eyed herself, she certainly wasn't immune to all of the emotion in that speaking recording, she felt it then and feels that and so much more now, a year later.

At first, Lilith nods to Byron's question about how she planned to show it to him, but then she admits a bit of a secondary reason that's a touch sober, "Yes. I mean, I had it stashed for you to find too, in the event something happened to me. I was pretty rattled by what had been happening. But yeah, I saved it for today. The pot probably helped keep me talking, but the way I feel sometimes when it comes to you, it makes it easy to say the things the way they should be said." Her cheek tilts aside into the crooked finger before she tips lips up into his grazing kiss while he murmurs affection and... oh, that name she wrote so many times while young, to hear it from him in such a way makes her dizzy with giddiness.

"... yeah? Call me that again."

"Lilith Rose Thorne?" Byron repeats the name when asked to, his voice filled with light and laughter as he smiles brightly at her. His voice softens a touch and he can't help but look at the now blank screen, remembering the way Lilith looked just a seconds ago during the video. "It really was beautiful." Nuzzling against her cheek once more, he turns towards to brush his lips against her temple, a hand pushing some of her locks out of the way.

He wasn't ignoring her mention that she had planned for him to find the video if anything should happen to her. That's another thought that sticks out prominently in his mind. "And you fret whenever I surprise with you something luxurious, or even when I do something as simple as put on a stupid had and sing you a Christmas song to wake you. This... this will be hard to beat. You've poured your heart and soul into it, sweetie. And for that I'm... I'm just so fucking happy to have heard those words from you."

Carefully, reaching over to take hold of her fork, he gathers some stuffing and cranberry, just a little bit, so the content doesn't spill out, and slowly brings it up and over to Lilith's lips. They would get this through this meal and revel in the rest of the evening in one another's company. He wonders if he could say things just as sweet and powerful as Lilith's words in that recording.

It was strange to move on from that and to load up Netflix as they relaxed and drowned in wine until the massage. "Can I... keep a copy of this?" He says of the video. It wasn't sexy or anything of that nature and yet, he wanted to hear her say those words again, to watch the powerful emotions sweep through her. In his eyes, she looked so beautiful.

"You totally thought it was going to be a sexy video, didn't you?" Lilith says to Byron with a grin through the nuzzling, though her words are soft, "I'm glad you liked it and feel good and surprised." Leaning forward after her hands take a path briefly against the man's robed chest, she takes the offered bite with another touch of grin, considering as she chews, "... I didn't think I had a chance to outdo the sweetness of that hat and song surprise, don't go putting it down, I want to watch the video again on Christmas this year, like starting a tradition. Every Christmas, I'll watch that video of our first Christmas."

Settling in with her plate as the man cues up Netflix, she resumes eating and working through her glass of wine, theorizing with a sidelong gaze at Byron, "I've admittedly upped the ante on how you're going to respond when it's time for you to throw down on your next surprise, though. I'm still pretty proud of the genie-in-a-bottle prized Scavenger Hunt. But I have a lot of ground to make up for when it comes to what you did with your proposal on the Riviera."

Byron's question on having his own copy of the video gains touched little smile from her and pause of fork to look at him, "Of course you can. It's yours. Let's food coma, shall we? Then I'm going to rub you down into an actual coma. And it's not even going to be hot and sexy, it's going to be a legitimate full body massage with sleep as the happy ending." Byron might take issue with that, actually! But it's a food holiday and time to be gluttons in other ways, okay. Also what she says next fixes that, "But I'm going to pounce you into sex after the nap to burn calories. Then we'll eat a lot of pie."

They don't get another call or message from Turner, nor do they hear any return from Chantal. But the next day, they receive a text from an unknown number on Lilith's phone.

Chantal has been told to go dark for a while as a precautionary measure to any lashback we cannot plan for until matters play out. Her phone will temporarily go out of service. I've sent her to Greece to stay at an estate with her sister as a girl's vacation until well after the New Year. You have my assurances to her safety while she is out of the country.