Three Sentence Ficathon

"Is family dinner going to be a regular thing?" Rose asked as Jed excitedly handed his dinner request to the chef; "Because if this is going to be a regular thing, you need to tell me so I can rearrange my schedule and fall asleep normally instead of you showing up out of nowhere to blow sand in my face and only explain after the fact."

(There were no gilded and leather-bound menus to match the fancy silverware and china plates of the private dining room Dream had conjured up to the left of the great hall, just two blank sheets of heavy paper that the fanged chef assured the Walker siblings would record the foods they wanted most, even if they didn't consciously know what those foods were; Rose admitted it was a neat trick, and mentally awarded Dream a half point on her tally sheet -- at this rate, he might break out of the negative before Jed was old enough to vote.)

Dream looked even more stiff and awkward than normal, which should have been anatomically impossible, but he somehow managed; "You have my apologies for the short notice, and my word that, if you and Jed find yourselves willing to attempt another meal after this, I would be willing to visit the waking world so that you may choose a time and location more convenient for you."