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"All right, there, Fireproofing Charm on the deck accordingly renewed."

Nymphadora straightens up, nodding with satisfaction as the deck planks glow blue for a moment. Then she adjusts her fuzzy pom-pommed hat, and turns back to her husband.

"Is there anything else likely to be set on fire by your little toys?"

The witch squints out over the darkened lakefront as though expecting to see errant piles of drapery or old newspapers.

Date: 2006-12-31 07:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
Bernard rolls his eyes heavenwards with dramatic flair.

"Maybe the roof."

Date: 2006-12-31 07:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
He snorts in disbelief and wraps a hand around her ankle; he'd been teasing her.

"Are you quite finished?"

Date: 2006-12-31 07:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Nothing." His hands at her waist steady her further, and as she lands in front of him, he kisses her cheek warmly. "Hi."

Date: 2006-12-31 07:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Uh-huh." He grins back, and reaches up to tweak her silly hat. "It'll give me a chance to set your pom-poms on fire, which is my greatest ambition."

Date: 2006-12-31 07:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"I do like this hat. The pom-poms mock me and make me want to set things on fire," he laughs. Evading her hand, he reaches up again and plucks it off her head, holding it up almost out of her reach.

Date: 2006-12-31 07:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Oh, please," Bernard scoffs, his arms once again slipping around her waist. "Nobody teases you anymore, hardly. It's good for you."

Date: 2006-12-31 07:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Geez, is it really?" He looks at his watch, eyebrows quirking. "Where did you wanna do it? We could go towards the woods a bit. Set the trees on fire." An unholy light comes into his eyes at the suggestion.

Date: 2006-12-31 07:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Damn," Bernard mutters, disappointed, and picks up the box they'd sat on one of the porch chairs. "Come on." He holds out his free hand. "I like giving you explosives on New Year's."

Date: 2006-12-31 08:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
"Well, you're just so inspirational and all," he replies with an expressive eyeroll which does nothing to dispell the inherent truth of the statement.

When they're a good distance from the main bar building, but close enough to run home if there's any trouble, he sets the box down and kneels on the cold ground pulling all manner of interesting rocket-shaped items out. "What's the time?"

Date: 2006-12-31 08:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
He instantly reaches out to slap her hand away. "No grabbyhands, magpie." But he's smiling as he sets the fireworks in an order of his own making, braiding fuses together in an intricate pattern as he goes.

Date: 2006-12-31 08:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
Bernard bites his lip as he weaves ten fuses together with the practice of twenty years' detonation, and smiles, pulling the spool of extra fuse out of the box and weaving it, too, into the center of the bundle. He ties it all off with a spare bit of twine and stands, walking over to adjust the trajectory of a couple of rockets.

Then he steps back and picks up the spool, turning to his wife.

"Do you have the blanket all charmed up? I'm ready to step back if you are."

Date: 2007-01-01 12:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
Meanwhile, Bernard has unwound the fuse a good twenty feet and meets her in the middle, kneeling on the blanket and pulling out his pocket knife to cut the end.

He turns to Nymphadora with a grin.

"Okay. We're all set."

Date: 2007-01-01 12:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com
He snickers and settles back, pulling his matches out of the pocket of his peacoat.

He looks at them in his hand for a moment, then offers them to her. "If this isn't love, I don't know what is."

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