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It was a clear choice, really. Rob knew exactly what to give his giftee for the Xenia celebration. In a way, he liked this Xenia idea better than the more traditional Christmas, and he secretly liked Christmas a lot. As a child growing up in London, he ate Christmas cake and helped decorate the tree and was insistent on leaving out brandy for Father Christmas. So here he was playing Father Christmas for one of his fellow Chosen. And with a quick trip back to San Francisco through Hestia's flames, he had the perfect gift.

Rob slipped through the door of the Hermes dorm, his wrapped gift tucked under one arm. Nope, the target of his gift-giving wasn't in the common area. Prowling through the halls, he finally located the right room and knocked on the door. "Oi, Asher, you in?" Maybe he'd gone back to New York City for the holidays. He hoped not -- he wanted to see the look on the small man's face when he opened his present.

Rob's own expression was blank and slightly scowly. Didn't want to give away what a kick he was getting out of this, so it was best to play the punk. "Right, so this Xenia thing. I don't even know what the ******** that is, but it apparently involves gift-giving. So." He held out the long wrapped present to Asher with something of a shoving motion, as if he were embarrassed to be seen giving a gift to the sour little New Yorker. "Your number came up for me. Merry Christmas, Happy Xenia, what the ******** ever."

This was fun. Asher was clearly confused, both by the gift and by Rob's punk hardness. He saw the much smaller man stumble back, and for a second thought he was playing it up a little too much to Asher. But then he remembered, Hermes, tricksters, and realized Asher was probably playing it up at least a bit himself. That was just fine. It added to the fun.

The Brit shook his head, dreads flying. It was all he could do to keep from grinning. "Nah, you can go ahead an' open it now if you like." He was dying to see the expression on Asher's face.

"Yeah, sure, mate." Rob followed Asher into the room; his own room was a pretty sizable mess, with clothing strewn everywhere and musical gear and empty beer bottles scattered all over the place, so the mess in Asher's room barely registered with him. Nice to know that other Chosen were as big a bunch of slobs as he was, he thought wryly.

Stopping in the middle of the floor, Rob crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Asher expectantly. The corner of his mouth turned up in a wry smile, unable to keep the punk facade up any longer.

"Well, you saw what was in there, yeah? You gonna open it?"

"Good point," Rob agreed as he sat down on Asher's bed. "Though I'm pretty sure it ain't broken. I checked it before I wrapped it." He watched the smaller man rummage through his bedside drawer, knowing full well what it was Asher was looking for. And he found himself looking forward to giving his gift to Asher a good, thorough test.

"Your roomie ain't got no problems with you, um…" Rob put his thumb and forefinger up to his lips as if he were holding something. "You know, in your room?"

Rob caught the fleeting grin and returned it with one of his cheeky lopsided grins. Either Asher's roomie didn't care or imbibed himself, most likely. And given the nature of most of these Hermes Chosen, Rob was inclined to guess the latter.

"Yeah, Ernst," he replied, watching Asher pack the bowl. "Tall bloke, pink hair. Good man. Saved me life in the Alps, actually, when that ********' great bird got me."

"Yeah, we get along okay," Rob shrugged. "Hardly ever see him, except in passing. He keeps his own company, I reckon. Not that I mind -- this roommate thing is new for me." It occurred to him that Ernst was a bit of a giraffe even in human form, and snickered softly to himself. To Asher, everyone must seem like a giraffe.

He watched the Hermes Chosen work, the fragrance emanating from the small bag wafting through the air in the room. Smelled like good stuff. "You done fiddlin' about there?"

A grin! He didn't think he'd ever seen an outright smile on Asher's face, let alone a grin. Figuring that was as close as he was going to get to a thank you, Rob allowed himself to grin in return. "You're welcome," he nodded, accepting the pipe. He eyed it up and down its length, then checked the bowl to see if it was still lit. Satisfied that it was, he brought the stem up to his lips and inhaled, holding it for a bit before exhaling.

"Ahhh," he sighed, relaxing as the weed worked its way through his system. "Where d'you get your supply? New York? It's good."