Magnus swooped in almost immediately upon Peter's entrance, only managing to avoid crashing into a departing Jason by inches, but he made the move look smooth and calculated. A glass of wine in one hand, he poked at the casserole dish with a brightly painted finger.

"What'd you make?" He did not wait for a response but lifted the lid a crack and sniffed. Glitter drifted through the air in the wake of his movements. "Ooh, the thing with the marshmallows. Did you do this? By yourself? You can't become a housewife, Peter, unless you promise me manicure dates every Monday and wine every week night."