#what the whole three 🚢 name Tumblr posts

[minthy]

they're silly, lol

translation:

S: DID YOU TAKE THE PIC ALREADY??

O: just hold on

S: HURRY!!

O: (internally, or Idk) God damn, look at the beauty

[asexual-hugger]

The day of the village tree-lighting arrives, and Allison McQueen is in her bedroom looking through her closet, undecided on what to wear for the evening. Because it’s a special occasion, she has always dressed up for it, although formality was never required. Each year she’d worn the same dress: a long, knee-length red number with warm leggings underneath, but this year she was longing for something different. This year, her boss was spending the holidays with her, and she wanted to make an extra good impression.

Detective Ernest Sinclaire had always bought outfits for her during their business missions. She feels by this point that she should start consulting him for fashion emergencies. He always knew what she needed. He knew what she needed way before she knew herself. How he did, she never figured out. Who knew that a private investigator could have such a secret eye for fashion? 

I shouldn’t ask him, she thinks. He always goes out of his way to get me clothes. I feel like this time it’s my turn to suggest something for him. He doesn’t know our village’s Christmas traditions like I do. I’m supposed to be hosting him and showing him around. It’s only fair that I provide the fashion sense this time. Maybe I can buy something at the tailor’s just down the street. We can match. If I wear my red dress again, he can wear a red suit, so everyone will know that we are together.

No! She shakes the thought from her mind. We’re not TOGETHER together. I can’t keep thinking of him like that! He’s my boss, not my boyfriend! We’re friends. Close CLOSE, without being together close friends. And colleagues. It’s like the Leo DiCaprio/Kate Winslet kind of relationship. Best best friends who care deeply about each other and love each other without being married. That kind of relationship is extremely rare. Besides, Walter Enos was back in town. The boy she used to love crazily in high school.

What would he be wearing tonight? She always remembered him wearing his heavy jacket and long slacks. The annual Christmas tree lighting brought the whole village together every year, residents decked out in their winter finest as they gathered in the square and circled the lighted tree to sing carols. She was sure her parents would probably be dressing up in their best as well.

Her eyes rove across her formalwear collection. There aren’t very many outfits that she could classify as “winter finest.” Most of her dresses were suitable for parties and events other than Christmas. She has to think of her guest. The tailor’s would definitely have something for Detective Sinclaire that matched her red. Today, it was going to be Allison McQueen’s turn to be the fashionista.

She just starts to take down all the dresses she owns to lay them on her bed when her phone pings with a text. Leaning over towards her nightstand, she can just make out the long name she had entered into her contacts poking up above the message on the screen: Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator.

She immediately unlocks her phone and opens her message app. Sinclaire’s text is right at the top.

Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator: What are you wearing to the tree lighting tonight?

Allison thinks about it for a bit, and then she begins typing.

Allison: How do you know I’m even wearing anything? Maybe I’m planning on lying under the tree as a gift and you can draw me like one of your French girls.

Allison: 😁

Allison: 🚢

The three dots appear, and then Sinclaire’s response comes through.

Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator: I see what you did there. 😆 If I could draw, I probably would be very tempted, although nude art was always a sensitive subject for me. I bet you’d be a very very sexy French girl. 🚢

Allison: I’d be more than glad to pose for you.

Allison: Actually, I’ve been up in my room deciding what I’m going to wear, and before you say anything, don’t even think about it, buddy. You’re always the one picking out clothes for me at work, so tonight it’s my turn. I’m picking out something for you. There’s a tailor shop down the street from here, and I’m getting you something that matches what I’m wearing. I have this red dress I’ve worn every year for this occasion, but I thought I’d try something new this year. Maybe the tailor’s will have something for both of us in the same color.

Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator: I honestly don’t mind picking out clothes for you. But if you insist on doing it tonight, I won’t stop you. You’re the boss. I’d like to see your red dress. I like red. I’ll wear any color as long as I get to match with you. After seeing your ex boyfriend at dinner last night, I felt a bit envious and angered. I want everyone at that celebration tonight to see our matching colors. Hopefully it’ll make Walter realize that you’re with me.

Did he really just say that? Was Detective Ernest Sinclaire, Allison’s boss, confessing that they were together? That he wanted to be together?

Allison: I think that’s the holiday jitters talking, but I totally get it. Matching colors would indeed turn heads, as long as it’s the right pairing. I’ll head down to the tailor’s now and keep you updated on what I find. I’ll take pictures and text them to you so you can figure out what you like.

Pause, and then another response.

Ernest Sinclaire, Private Investigator: No way. You jump, I jump. I’m coming down there with you. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in your room.

He was sure turning up the heat with the Titanic references. Ever since Kade had mentioned the fact last summer that his sister had a fascination with the Titanic, it had stuck in Sinclaire’s mind.

A couple minutes later, there’s a knock at Allison’s door.

“Miss McQueen? It’s Detective Sinclaire. Are you decent?” His gentle voice calls through the door cautiously.

“No, I’m not,” Allison calls back. “I’m currently posing naked on my bed wearing the Heart of the Ocean necklace waiting for a certain artist to draw me.”

“Oh.” Sinclaire pauses, clearing his throat several times nervously. “How long are you going to be?”

Allison flings open the door, fully dressed. “I was kidding!” she insists. “Are you ready?”

“Oh! You were being sarcastic.” Sinclaire gives her an understanding nod. “Forgive me. I should have known the moment you mentioned the Heart of the Ocean necklace. I do need to get used to these Titanic-themed references you’re suddenly tossing about. Yes, I’m ready. I am very eager to see what ideas you have for our outfits.”

He steps into her room carefully and holds out his arm for her. “Your companion awaits, my lady.”

“Thank you indeed, my good detective,” Allison answers. She grabs a sweater from her closet and slings it over her shoulder, hooking her fingers under his elbow. “I hope you have good walking shoes on.”

The tailor is seated behind a sewing machine in the front when they walk in, and she looks up at the sound of the bell going off over the door. Both Allison and Detective Sinclaire have remembered their face coverings, as is the requirement inside all the stores to prevent the spread of COVID-19. Allison has a Titanic mask on.

“Hello there!” The tailor greets them brightly, a blue surgical mask covering her face.

“Hello!” Allison responds. “I’m looking for some outfits for tonight’s ceremony. I was hoping my friend and I could have matching colors.”

“The tree-lighting? Of course! That would be cute. Any particular colors or patterns you’re looking for?”

“Er...” Allison starts. “What’s your favorite color, Detective?”

“My favorite color?” Sinclaire ponders a bit. “I don’t really have a FAVORITE favorite, but if I were to choose, I’d say green. What’s yours?”

“Don’t laugh,” Allison warns. “It’s yellow and blue.”

“Are you serious?” Sinclaire looks amazed. “Yellow and blue are the primary colors that make green! Are you seriously pulling my leg right now?”

“No,” Allison insists. “I’ve always liked those colors. Ever since I was a girl. Ask my mum.”

“I believe you,” Sinclaire answers. “I’m just stunned. Out of all the colors out there, you choose the two that make up my favorite. Are we compatible or what?”

I’ve wondered that myself, Allison thinks, although she doesn’t say it. I can’t be compatible with the guy I work for...can I?

“I definitely have patterns in yellow, blue and green, if you care to see them,” the tailor offers. She gets up from her sewing machine and leads them over to a corner where a large selection of fine suits and dresses hangs. “I have all sizes, so feel free to ask if you need help. I promised a teacher at the schoolhouse that I’d make a dress for her daughter tonight, and she’s supposed to come into the fitting at 3.”

Allison doesn’t hesitate in scanning the fancy clothes. Something green had to be in here, for both of them.

“You said green, so we’re going with green,” she tells Sinclaire with determination in her voice. “If I can find a fancy green dress in my size, then I can find you a fancy green suit.”

“How about this?” Sinclaire pulls a pine green shirt off the rack and holds it up against himself. “Is this a good enough green?”

“That’s perfect,” Allison answers. “Very Christmas-like. It looks like it can fit you, too. Let me see if I can find something for you myself, since I said I was choosing the fashion this time. Wait. What’s this?”

Her eyes fall on a soft, dark green dress and she takes it off the rack, holding it up against her body. 

“This is perfect,” she comments. “It looks like it’s even in my size.”  She walks over to the tailor to show her. “Is there something in this color for a man?” she asks.

“What a lovely choice!” The tailor looks proud. “I made that a few months ago. As a matter of fact, there IS a matching suit that goes specifically with that. If you buy the dress and the suit together, I can give you a discount, since I made them specially for couples. You and your beau are going to look RAVISHING in that!”

Jackpot, Allison thinks, a grin creeping across her face. 

Matching outfits in green, and surely 100-percent Detective Sinclaire-approved.

“I’ll take both,” Allison says with determination, placing her card down on the counter.

“Oh, no you don’t, young lady.” A hand grips her wrist just as she slides the card forward, and she turns to face the blue eyes of her boss. “I’m taking care of the payment. Your job was to find the clothes. Put that back.” He picks up her card and hands it to her, instead digging into his jacket pocket for his wallet. He looks at the tailor with a very determined expression. “This one’s on me,” he tells her. 

“All right,” she replies. “Couples discount for the dress and the suit. You two are going to turn heads tonight in these outfits. I know because I made them.”