Six Months

[hell_in_highheels]

She's eyeing the calender on her desk and the date.  Six months ago, she invited him to dinner.  Six months ago he said yes.  Six months ago, she was still human.  Six months ago and a day ago, she considered herself a ghost -- not among the living.  A memory of a life, perhaps, but not an actual life.

Six months ago, he reminded her that she was very much alive and he's spent every day since proving to her that life is very much worth living.

So she's sitting at her desk, trying to jot down something simple in a note to tell him how glad she is that she met him, how much she loves him, how much he's become a vital part of her existence.  She never thought it could be this good.  And it's all because of him.  But she doesn't think he'd appreciate pages and pages of her pouring her heart out.   She just wants to make him smile, and mark the day.  So she's trying for something quick and to the point.

All that's come out is a silly little ditty, and she's almost embarrassed by how naff it is, but it's quick and to the point.

I can't believe you shredded my knickers,
I can't believe you bit my nose,
I can't believe how much I love you,
Everyday it grows and grows.

Happy first six months,
~River

Completely naff.  So she adds a couple of hearts with an arrow through it, grinning as she tries to picture his expression upon reading it.

Maybe she'll stuff it in his holster or something.

"Oh I know..."

Damocles?

She tucks the note in his collar, and pets his face while she asks him to take the note to its intended recipient. It means she won't see his reaction when he reads it, but she wagers it'll be worth it.

Comments

[hell_in_highheels]

"Oh. Ew."

She eats a few more bites, trying to rid herself of the image.

"There's also a talking fish, oh and a race of deep sea dwelling sentient octopi that I'd hope to meet. Perhaps. If the occasion presents itself."

Ooo, look. Paradoxes. Her favourites!

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He leans back in his chair, just watching her.

"Perhaps," he repeats flatly. "Just how long have you been planning this trip again?"

At least that's tolerant amusement in his scent?

[hell_in_highheels]

She looks up at him, eyes wide. "Well I only mention it in the interests of full disclosure, and I said if the occasion presents itself which it probably won't."

"And only for a few weeks, but Ray's been busy so it slipped my mind. I hope you don't mind?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"No, it's fine. After all, I don't believe fish or octopi are all that likely to slime you, nor are they inclined to steal my dinner."

Or make bad jokes, in the case of Venkman.

[hell_in_highheels]

"I promise I shall defend to my dying breath your right to eat dinner undisturbed." To prove her point, she offers him a paradox by hand.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Well. Perhaps not all the time," he replies, leaning in to take a bite.

[hell_in_highheels]

She pops the rest in her mouth, grinning around it.

No. There will undoubtedly be some time in the future when you'll have to watch my back while I eat.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

I'm perfectly capable of doing that while I eat.

Why do you think he sits with his back to a wall when they eat downstairs?

[hell_in_highheels]

Her laughter is warm, and she reaches out a hand to touch his arm, as she often does when they are eating or simply talking. Just a touch, filled with volumes.

Yes, of course you are, she answers, beaming at him. But you do know what I mean.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Of course, he replies, amusement in his scent. But what makes you think I don't already?

[hell_in_highheels]

I know you do. She puts her fork down, leaning a little closer, her own scent mirroring the same amusement, and love. She has the same instincts now, expressed slightly differently, but the same drive to keep her pack, her mate safe.

Just as I keep an eye out for you, in my own -- puppyish ways.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

That gets a laugh out of him and he leans in to give her a kiss.

You're learning.

She is! Training lasts much longer than it used to.

Being a werewolf now may have something to do with it.

[hell_in_highheels]

She slits her eyes at him for the briefest moment before leaning into that kiss. The sound of his laugh mitigates her bruised ego somewhat.

I should hope so.

She rests her forehead against his, the tip of her nose brushing against his, drinking in the scent of his happiness. It's hard, some days, feeling like she's starting over, feeling like there isn't a single bit of mastery in any of the things she does. But he's worth it.

She only hopes she's worth the headaches she's no doubt caused him.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He has worked with raw recruits before. None of them came with benefits, though.

(That would have been awkward.)

He lets her lean, utterly content. His afterlife is shaping up quite nicely. He's very lucky. And he knows it.

[hell_in_highheels]

She eventually pulls back, looking into his eyes.

"You. Said something. About pie."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He grins, not blinking.

"How can you have pie when you haven't finished your broccoli?"

[hell_in_highheels]

That look. She has to close her eyes for a moment to tear her gaze away, and she does so grinning, wrinkling her nose at him, a bit of a blush colouring her cheeks.

She reaches for her fork and spears one of the offending little trees.

"You are such a spoil sport sometimes, you know that?"

It's a damned good thing she likes broccoli.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"You act like you're going to run out of room," he teases, reaching over to help with the offending little psuedotrees.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her mouth full, she answers in canine.

I still can't eat as much as you do, love.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"It's not going to go bad, either. There will be pie later."

He smiles.

"Unless I eat it all."

[hell_in_highheels]

Oh, that gets the tiniest a flash of teeth, and her scent ripples with playful indignation.

"You just go right ahead and do that. And then see how you like sleeping on the couch."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"The couch is very comfortable," he counters.

"It's a good place to eat pie."

[hell_in_highheels]

She scoffs at him and goes back to eating her dinner, hiding a bit of a pout. (Impossible to do with his nose.)

He wouldn't choose pie over her company would he?

Does he like pie that much?

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

She said he'd be sleeping on the couch. She didn't say anything about not joining him.

Amused Richard is amused. Also: getting up to cut pie.

[hell_in_highheels]

She watches him go, scenting his amusement.

After a moment, she collects their plates and follows him into the kitchen. She keeps her hands busy with washing up, and then seeing what he's doing, taking down saucers and checking the refrigerator to see if they have any whipping cream. There's a can of it in the door.

Her eyes slit as she considers her options.