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[clumsy_auror]

"Bernard, it'll be fine. I Apparated Crowley home from Iraq that one time, didn't I?"

Nymphadora raises an eyebrow at her husband, expectant.

Down at the alley's opening, the traffic of Charing Cross Road whizzes merrily by, and the sidewalks are filled with people out soaking up the bright afternoon sunshine.

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[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard rubs the back of his neck, his knuckles white around the handle of his black carryall.

"Yeah, I know. But if you splinch him, he gets a new body in 90 days or less."

[clumsy_auror]

"I'm not gonna splinch you," she scoffs, totally disregarding the incident with the Apparition testing instructor. But that was years ago. Years. "We'll be taking it in chunks so it's not too much all at once. Aren't you always telling me what a brilliant witch I am?"

Leaning forward, 'Dora gives him a winning smile and a peck on the lips.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Despite his misgivings, Bernard makes a soft sound and kisses her again.

He really is eager for this time alone.

"Fine. Just. Don't warn me or anything. No 'on the count of three' bullshit."

[clumsy_auror]

"Don't worry. It'll be easy as anything," she reassures him, stepping closer and wrapping her arm around his waist, apparently to draw him in for another kiss.

He probably doesn't notice the way her fingers thread securely though his belt loop.

"And then it'll be a whole day of just you, and me, and as little clothing as we can possibly get away with."

Grinning, she leans in and kisses him again.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard smiles against her lips, increasingly persuaded.

He pulls back, and opens his mouth. "I love--"

And, for a split second, Bernard wasn't.

And then, he was again, and they were standing in the middle of a field. He felt dizzy, a little sick.

"--you. Holy shit."

[clumsy_auror]

"Love you, too," 'Dora replies cheerfully, taking in their surroundings. "Welcome to Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania. Well, the outskirts, anyhow. Doing all right?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard shakes his head to clear it. "A-buh. Um. Can we tip some cows while we're here?"

He's fiiiiiiiine.

[clumsy_auror]

"No, leave the cows alone. Focus on the beach, Bernard... am I meant to be not-warning you now, too?"

Oops. Too late!

Everything goes black again, and then the Colorado landscape melts into existence around them.

"...Blimey. Glad I missed that canyon, over there."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's head thumps down onto her shoulder, and he practically whines. "Don't say things like that!"

[clumsy_auror]

Stretching luxuriantly in her beach chair, Nymphadora grins over at Bernard and then reaches for her lemonade. "I think we need to change the spell on the lake. Make it more like this."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard raises an eyebrow behind Donald Duck sunglasses.

What, you think he didn't bring them?

"But then the winter wouldn't be snowy."

[clumsy_auror]

"True," she concedes, taking a noisy slurp of her drink before setting it back down, her bare toes brushing the white sand at their feet. "...Your nose is pink."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He sighs.

"Redhead. Hit me with another spell."

[clumsy_auror]

Nymphadora surreptitiously points her wand in his direction, and mutters a Sunblocking Charm. And one on herself for good measure. "So when were you here? And was that the same trip where you ended up drunkenly tattooed?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's cheeks turn red, this time manifestly not from the effects of the sun.

"Was... about 20. Whole gang came down here for a while, to hide out. It wasn't a touristy place then." He grins. "We saw Liz Taylor. She liked to come to Puerto Vallarta after filming A Place in the Sun. I was tempted to slip a firecracker into her handbag."

[clumsy_auror]

Choking back a laugh, 'Dora narrows her eyes at her husband. "...Did you try to chat up Elizabeth Taylor, just to see if you could?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He laughs. "Are you kidding me? Rachel would've had my ass in a sling." A pause. "I did consider it, though."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"No, no, no, Dora, hafta put the mercury in something that won't break until the right time, but it does have to break. 'S the point." Bernard scribbles on the latest paper napkin from the pile the barkeep provided them with two and a half hours earlier. His hair is sticking up every which way, and he suddenly straightens and seizes on one of the seventeen half-crumpled napkins which are strewn all over the bar. "Wait. There's a part of this one that-- Holy shit."

More scribbling.

It should be noted that there is a three-quarters-gone bottle of tequila at his elbow, and two shot glasses to his right. And a wife.

[clumsy_auror]

Who is idly sucking on a lime rind, and squinting down at the napkin.

"Don't mind me. I haven't got a bloody clue what you're on about -- I dunno why we can't just put a timing spell on it, but that's jus' me."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His eyes narrow as he scribbles. "Because they could get fucked up from stray hexes. Said so yourself."

[clumsy_auror]

A slight pause.

"Oh."

Then she shrugs, and pours more two more shots.

"Well then, I'm sure... whatever you're doing over there is just brilliant."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"'Course it is." He lifts his head and flashes her a brilliant grin. "It's me." He takes his shot glass, clinks it against hers, and shoots. "Yum."

[clumsy_auror]

The witch knocks her own shot back, and then props her chin up on his shoulder, watching his nearly-illegible scrawl fly from the pen. Her arm slips around his waist.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's only reply is to lean his head against hers as he writes, the design and formulae flying onto the paper almost faster than he can think them.

[clumsy_auror]

...Yeah, even though she wishes he'd just take the night off, watching him like this is pretty damn hot.

Nymphadora tilts her head and presses a soft kiss to his temple. One of her hands wanders over to his thigh.