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Jan. 13th, 2007 02:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
not_that_spike"Shh, Junior. It's a surprise, okay?" With the baby tucked safely in his arm, he steps through the portrait from the living room into their bedroom, where Beth's waiting. She... looks a little impatient, but what the hell, he only kept her here for a while. Not even that long, he thinks. Just enough to put the finishing touches on their little surprise. "Okay, Slim, we're ready for you. Come on."
This business of getting back and forth by portrait is a little unnerving still, but hell, it works. "You two wait right here in the living room, okay?" When Beth sits, he hands her the baby then disappears into the kitchen where there... might or might not be a little noise, a few things clattering, the sounds of a couple things being moved around, preparations being made. He peeks around the door, a little bit of a devilish smile on his lips, a pair of candlesticks in holders in his hands: he brings them in and sets them down on the coffee table in front of Beth, lights the candles. They're sweet-smelling, like hibiscus or magnolia, something like that.
"Now, you have to close your eyes, ma'am." Leaning forward -- mindful of the candles -- he kisses her forehead, then the baby's fist. "Be right back."
There's not quite as much noise this time; he reappears with a pair of plates loaded high: rice covered with skewers of beef, chicken, all manner of vegetables, sauce drizzled over it all. He's not much of a gourmet cook and as much as he would've liked, he couldn't figure out how the hell to cook lobster the way Bar does, but this is something he can do, something he knows he can make without screwing it up, and the last thing he wants to do on Beth's birthday is screw up her birthday dinner. His next trip to the kitchen brings back a basket of fresh hot bread and a bowl of fresh salad, and the third trip yields a bottle of red wine and a pair of stem glasses.
And napkins and silverware; he's not making her struggle through this with chopsticks and since it's her day, he's doing things her way. Pouring wine into both glasses, he hands her one and toasts her.
"Hey, Beth, you can open your eyes now." Smiling, he raises his glass to her. "I... kind of love you, ma'am, a hell of a lot, and I figured the only way left to show you that I haven't already is by proving I could actually cook something decent. And seeing as how it's your birthday, I... well, you don't need to know how many recipes I went through and said no to but here we are. If it's not a house on Venus, it gets to be a birthday dinner." After a sip of wine, he eyes the food but really, his whole attention is on her. "Happy birthday, Beth Durand."
This dinner is pretty much just the start of things. He's got more surprises waiting and tucked away but for now, this is... well, it's her birthday and he loves her.
This business of getting back and forth by portrait is a little unnerving still, but hell, it works. "You two wait right here in the living room, okay?" When Beth sits, he hands her the baby then disappears into the kitchen where there... might or might not be a little noise, a few things clattering, the sounds of a couple things being moved around, preparations being made. He peeks around the door, a little bit of a devilish smile on his lips, a pair of candlesticks in holders in his hands: he brings them in and sets them down on the coffee table in front of Beth, lights the candles. They're sweet-smelling, like hibiscus or magnolia, something like that.
"Now, you have to close your eyes, ma'am." Leaning forward -- mindful of the candles -- he kisses her forehead, then the baby's fist. "Be right back."
There's not quite as much noise this time; he reappears with a pair of plates loaded high: rice covered with skewers of beef, chicken, all manner of vegetables, sauce drizzled over it all. He's not much of a gourmet cook and as much as he would've liked, he couldn't figure out how the hell to cook lobster the way Bar does, but this is something he can do, something he knows he can make without screwing it up, and the last thing he wants to do on Beth's birthday is screw up her birthday dinner. His next trip to the kitchen brings back a basket of fresh hot bread and a bowl of fresh salad, and the third trip yields a bottle of red wine and a pair of stem glasses.
And napkins and silverware; he's not making her struggle through this with chopsticks and since it's her day, he's doing things her way. Pouring wine into both glasses, he hands her one and toasts her.
"Hey, Beth, you can open your eyes now." Smiling, he raises his glass to her. "I... kind of love you, ma'am, a hell of a lot, and I figured the only way left to show you that I haven't already is by proving I could actually cook something decent. And seeing as how it's your birthday, I... well, you don't need to know how many recipes I went through and said no to but here we are. If it's not a house on Venus, it gets to be a birthday dinner." After a sip of wine, he eyes the food but really, his whole attention is on her. "Happy birthday, Beth Durand."
This dinner is pretty much just the start of things. He's got more surprises waiting and tucked away but for now, this is... well, it's her birthday and he loves her.
