(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

*Nymphadora's storing the leftovers from dinner and putting them in the fridge.

She's kind of quiet.*

Comments

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Oh, fine.

*He plops the ice cream and a bloody great spoon into her hands and hoists himself onto the opposite counter to watch.*

Less to clean later.

[clumsy_auror]

*Serenely, Nymphadora opens the ice cream and digs in, delicately placing some of the cobbler on top of her spoon before eating it.*

Ta.

...Think I'm gonna start getting weird cravings. Like. Pickles 'n things?

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*Bernard shrugs.*

Dunno.

I once knew a girl who craved anchovy and peanut butter sandwiches. But then, she was pregnant and stoned, so.

[clumsy_auror]

*horrified*

...I'm not sure which is worse, that sandwich or the part about being stoned.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Well, it was the '60s. Most people really, really didn't know what was bad for them then.

*Another shrug*

Frankly, most people my age thought pot was better for you than tobacco, and people really didn't realize how bad tobacco was yet.

So.

[clumsy_auror]

Oh yeah. I know. Different cultural mindsets and mores and whatnot. Everything means something different, depending on when and where you're from.

*Nymphadora's never read Geertz. But she'd probably like him if she did.*

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Exactly.

*He shrugs*

Jesus, I tried everything once. Didn't think twice. Didn't occur to me.

[clumsy_auror]

Hunh.

*Another contemplative mouthful of ice cream and cobbler.*

...And you don't miss that?

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

What, being coked up? While tripping?

*He snorts.*

Well.

It did make for a few very interesting blast decisions.

[clumsy_auror]

*A flicker of concern passes over her features.*

Lucky you didn't hurt yourself, love.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He rolls his eyes.*

Please.

You forget who you're dealing with.

I fucking made my own when I had the supplies. I was fine.

[clumsy_auror]

Ah.

*Another bite.

That cobbler must be awfully interesting, for all the attention she's giving it.*

'Kay.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*His gaze is very frank, if she'd only meet it.*

I haven't set up a meth lab in the bathroom, you know.

[clumsy_auror]

Oh, no--

*She looks up at him, finally, and there's no uncertainty in her eyes.*

No, I don't think that. I know that's not a part of your life anymore.

Just... not something I know anything about, really. Not that I want to, but... I want to know you. Does that make sense?

You've just got an awful lot of experience on me. In a lot of ways.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Well.

*He pulls up his legs to sit cross-legged on the counter, his elbows on his knees.*

Does it really matter, in the end? I mean, sure, you want to know me.

But, you've got a whole range of experience I couldn't hope to live, being a muggle.

[clumsy_auror]

*a light shrug*

S'pose that's true.

And no, I guess it doesn't really matter, at the end of the day.

*she grins sheepishly*

Just feel sort of... young, sometimes. With you. And with Aziraphael and Crowley.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He bites his lip.*

Well.

They're 6000 years old. I feel like a dust mite around them sometimes.

*A wistful grin*

And then sometimes with Crowley I feel like a couple of twelve year olds. So. It's all relative.

*He looks almost bashful.*

I mean. But.

I don't act all that... old, do I?

[clumsy_auror]

Not old, really, just...

*she chews her lip for a moment, trying to verbalise it*

...You've been everywhere. And you're so smart. And yeah, I'm clever enough, but...

*Nymphadora laughs a bit.*

I remember once I went to an art museum with one of my friends at the Academy. She loves art a lot, knows all the theories and schools and what-have-you. And I really liked some of the... well, the more obvious art, I guess you could say. Warhol and Degas and wossname... Calder. And she told me my taste was 'pedestrian.'


I don't want you to think of me as pedestrian.


You know?

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*His brow furrowed, Bernard jumps down from the counter and walks over to stand in front of her.*

You know that when I call you a pleb when we argue about food, I'm just teasing you, right?

[clumsy_auror]

*a half-smile*

Yeah. I do.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He thinks for a moment, fingertips grazing her knuckles on the countertop.*

A-and.

Aesthetic preference is just that. Preference. And sometimes the stuff the experts and theorists like just seems like crap to other people. That's not pedestrian, that's just... normal.

I mean...

I like Calder, too. And Warhol.

*He grins*

I just also happen to like the Dadaists.

I mean... when I was in Europe, I was obsessed with cathedrals. Not for the God-thing, but for the weird tombs tucked away in corners. And it's kind of pedestrian and touristy to go to cathedrals. But there I was, fascinated. In the cathedral at Dinan, there's a relic that's the piece of a saint's heart, and you can see it.

*He shrugs*

You just have to... like what you like, and never stop finding new things to like, I guess.

[clumsy_auror]

*Nymphadora looks at him for a long moment, and then leans forward, resting her head against his shoulder.*








Always liked the bits of the Three Wise Men they have at Köln, myself.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He shuts his eyes and leans his head against hers, one hand coming up to rub her back.*

Never made it to Cologne.

We should go.

[clumsy_auror]

*Her eyes close, too.*

'S nice there.

Lots of Roman stuff.

And pretzels.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

*He laughs.*

I like pretzels, too.