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[chandler-delgato]

Ghastly Murder in the East End {Chandler/Piper}

Chandler was down three glasses of red wine and had still yet to try the cheesecake. Interesting, seeing as twenty-seven years had gone and went under these dilapidated ceilings and he'd never found the opportunity to snatch a morsel of his mother's recipe. Leading the rim of his glass to his red lip, Chandler found himself grinning. The thought brought him to recall the words of an abolitionist in the nineteenth century: "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty". Reckon, he wasn't any sort of columnist for The Liberator, however, he was in fact a son who denied his Mama the satisfaction of fattening him up on cheese disguised as cake.

"Even lawyers have to eat, Chandler." The woman clucked, tucking a limp piece of hair behind her ear as she tried sifting through a table of wedding gifts. Chandler watched her scribble a Mrs. and Mr. Something and their Norwegian waffle maker down on a notepad, idly sipping on his drink. The Delgato household was overrun with straggly, limp flowers, mismatched placemats, and a mountain of presents. Chandler found it more than a little amusing--witnessing his parents' house partially draped in white and the other half still pervaded in picture frames from the eighties and every ribbon Pippa received for winning science fairs and spelling bees.

"I'm not a lawyer right now, Ma. I'm a man abiding by a strict regimen of greens and proteins." Chandler quipped, smirking behind his wineglass.

Flynn snorted a table away, setting aside his deck of poker cards to give his older brother an exaggerated eye-roll. "Don't you worry about him, Ma. He's only trying to get that bikini-body all the girls are raging about." Guffawing, Flynn hardly noticed Mrs. Delgato smack him on the arm. She t'sked, a sound that Chandler was far too well-acquainted with from years of observing family arguments.

He had almost forgotten the experiences that accompanied a visit, always too wrapped up in a case or a Big Book of Bigoted Opinions (as Wyatt used to put it). Chandler set down his glass mutely, glancing toward Piper with a twinkle in his eye. She and that little small town made a fine change of topic.

"Say, Pippa---You wouldn't happen to know any good librarian jokes, would you?"

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You're fortunate that I always come prepared with frozen peas and a medallion to commend valiant behavior. -- Are you alright?

               ”——- That guy threw a wicked right hook, I’ll give him that.” 

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A caffeinated cranium is a happy cranium.

You don’t know how glad I am to have some coffee.

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Well, you certainly look old enough to hold onto your quarters. Lovely seeing you again, Eleanor.

Do I really look old enough to be a ma’am?

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Where my arms are long, they lack sufficient build. You, on the other hand, have plenty of beef to manage the job on your own.

Yeah, well, your arms are longer. You can clean up quicker.

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As much as I hate to disagree, it's in my job description. -- You were the one to bump my shoulder. So, naturally, you should also be the one retrieving the broom.

That was smooth.

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I'd offer an umbrella but I really don't have one to offer.

Although, I hear awnings and newspapers are both great alternatives.

Home sweet home.

…And it’s raining—-Of course it’s raining.

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Excuse me ma'am, but I believe you dropped your quarter.

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I'm astonished. This small-town cup of joe is actually enlightening.

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The only hot date you should be having is with four tubes of Neosporin. You alright there?

Yeah, I did it again.

The real question is fuck — what am I supposed to tell the hot dates about this purple and red mess?

[chandler-delgato]

can you handle the heat

can you

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My pillow talk is coveted, true. But if you wanted me all to yourself, you only had to ask nicely.

You should thank me for waking you up before your sleep talking got a little more dirty for the whole town to hear.