(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

They'd left on the morning train from London, slipping beneath the Channel and through the northern French countryside as the afternoon wore on. It's nearly suppertime when the train arrives at Saint Malo, and it takes another hour or so for them to settle into their rented townhouse.

Nymphadora's dressed for dinner, and wanders through the house, peering into the odd little cupboards and leaded glass dormer windows. Her heels clack softly on the worn hardwood floor, and the sound echoes throughout the airy rooms.

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[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

It takes him a little longer to get around.

It generally does, these days.

Not groovy.

Finally, he thumps downstairs slowly, dressed in black, of course, and lets out a whistle.

"Boy. 'M glad you bought all those new clothes behind my back. Otherwise, I'd be totally underdressed."

[clumsy_auror]

There's already a broad smile on her face as she turns to Bernard, and Nymphadora walks quickly across the foyer to peck him on the lips. "You look brilliant, new clothes or no." Her fingers rake through his hair, a quick, affectionate gesture, and then she smooths her hand down his shirt front.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard grins and nips at her bottom lip playfully. "You sure you wanna go out?"

[clumsy_auror]

"I do. I'm famished." She kisses him again, longer this time, and there's more than a little longing in it. He's been doing better, but still isn't up to one hundred percent; she's been holding back.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard leans into the kiss, leans into her, slipping his arms around her waist. "Me too, actually." He pulls her closer. The cane falls to the floor.

He's not referring to his empty stomach.

[clumsy_auror]

A soft moan escapes Nymphadora, and she pulls back the slightest bit, the movement clearly requiring more than a little effort. "I love you," she whispers.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Smiling softly, he whispers back, "I love you, too." Another kiss. "And if we don't leave now, I suspect we may well starve to death."

[clumsy_auror]

"Okay." 'Dora stoops to retrieve the cane before Bernard has a chance to ask.

Which, coincidentally, affords him a nice view of her rear end.

Just sayin'.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He looks -- why not? -- and takes the cane, crooking his free arm out jauntily. "Shall we?"

[clumsy_auror]

Grinning, Nymphadora slips her arm through his, and they set off down the street.

As they're led to their table near the window, her smile fades as she idly thinks that if Crowley were there, they wouldn't need reservations.

Not really the evening for that line of thought.

She's feeling a bit better a few minutes later as Bernard translates the menu for her. "Oooh. Say that last one again."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Coquilles Saint-Jacques." He rolls his eyes. "Means scallops."

[clumsy_auror]

"That'll be the one, then," she replies approvingly. "It just rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?" Although not, admittedly, when she says it. "What're you gonna have?" The witch smiles up at the waiter as he brings their wine.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard cocks an eyebrow at his wife as he sips the sample of chardonnay and approves it with a nod to the waiter. "Shall I order for you?"

[clumsy_auror]

A cheeky grin. "Go for it." Beneath the table she takes his hand and pulls it over onto her thigh, threading their fingers together.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard turns to the waiter and orders. "On va commencer avec les escargots. Ma femme aura les coquilles Saint-Jacques au gratin des champignons, et pour moi, les langoustines sautées en chardonnay." As he speaks, his fingertips circle on Nymphadora's knee.

No fool this one.

[clumsy_auror]

The waiter nods curtly and turns to go. Nymphadora automatically leans closer to her husband, enjoying the crinkling of his eyes, his relaxed, easy posture.

"You look good, sweetheart."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard flushes and grins, squeezing her hand. "I feel good."

[clumsy_auror]

"I'm glad."

She takes a sip of wine, her eyes still on him. The soft breeze wafts in through the open window, smelling of salt and lavender.

"You're walking a bit better these last few days, I noticed."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Result of you and Kathleen falling all over yourselves to prevent me from doing anything at all," he mock-grumbles.

[clumsy_auror]

"Too bloody right. 'S our job. Gotta have you back up and around as soon as we can, right?"

A brief kiss. Too brief.

"Can I give you your present, now?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard bounces in his seat a bit. "Ooh, did you finally get me that paper airplane I've always wanted?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Must've left it in my other bag," she deadpans, reaching into her purse and pulling out a small wrapped package.

"Here, love. Happy anniversary."

Inside is a small book, its blank pages constructed from a heavy cream paper; there are imperfections here and there, whorls in the grain, slightly uneven edges.

The cover is made of a slightly heavier paper, dark, dark grey, almost black. In direct light it looks solid, but in the slanting candle light from the table there are words. Words scrawled in Nymphadora's handwriting. Words of love and everyday and home.

She bites her lip, looking at him somewhat nervously.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard opens the package, and looks at the book in his hand a little quizzically.

Then the light hits it just right, and he smiles, holding it up and tilting it.

"...Wow."

[clumsy_auror]

"Allbright's wife makes paper," she explains, and smiles softly. "She helped me out when I explained what I wanted. Thought it might be nice for you to have someplace to write."

Nymphadora's seen the snatches of verse scrawled on the corner of his sketches, here and there.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Flipping through all the blank pages, Bernard beams, then drops it to the table to take her hand. "Thank you." He leans forward to kiss her, but the waiter comes with their appetizer. "Merci."