Hearing the door open and shut, Michael glanced over his shoulder from the kitchen counter to see Fiona letting herself in. He turned his attention back to his work, calling, "Hey, Fi."
She skipped to his side, giving him a sharp pinch on the arm. Michael swatted her hand, jerking his attention back up to her.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
Fi settled on the stool next to Michael, grinning. "You're not wearing green."
Michael frowned. "So?"
Fi looked appalled. "Michael, what day is it?"
Michael's confusion only deepened. "Wednesday..."
Fi sighed. "The what?"
Fi nodded encouragingly. "Of March..." she continued for him. Suddenly Michael's eyes widened.
Fi rolled her eyes. "How long did you live Ireland again?"
Michael didn't reply, finally taking in what Fiona was wearing. It looked like she had been caught in one of her explosions except it was an explosion of green and shamrocks. She was wearing a skimpy leprechaun green halter dress. Her shoes were five inch heels, the same color as her dress, with little shamrocks on them instead of bows. She'd painted her finger and toe nails with various shades of green, more shamrocks on top of that. She was wearing more jewelry than usual: earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets all sporting jolly shamrocks and leprechaun hats.
Michael smiled. This was a yearly ritual for her. It was sometimes easy to forget where Fiona had come from as she'd changed her style and accent, but once a year, she went all out. She even would slip back into her native accent if she was excited enough.
"Can I convince you to celebrate with me this time?" she asked, snagging the open yogurt Michael had sitting out. "Sam's going out with Ms. Reynolds this year. If I can't party with you, I'm going to have to get your mom drunk and party with her."
Michael winced at the idea of his mom drunk and celebrating St. Paddy's with Fiona. He glanced at the project he'd been working on, deliberating.
"Let me change into something with green," he started. Fiona jumped up.
"I've got some things you can wear," she told him, scurrying to the door. "At my place, c'mon!"
Michael chuckled. This night was going to be one of a kind.
A/N: Happy St. Patrick's Day!
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