"I see you eyeing those pies, Luke Garroway." Magnus perched himself on the arm of Luke's sofa, companionably close and near enough that a light sprinkle of glitter falls from warlock to werewolf. Magnus was dressed conservatively, but Thanksgiving was one of those holidays which demanded that people slow down and not indulge in so much flash. Christmas would entail much more sparkle.

"I also see you eyeing your boyfriend. I know one is off limits, but are the rest of us allowed to have a taste?"