metem_logs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

asclepius,
nimue

(no subject)

Characters: Nimue and Ascpleius
Date/Time: (backdated) Sept 4-5
Location: Around Seattle at first then Nimue's
Rating: Let's start with R
Warnings: Cuteness and sexual content
Summary: It's somebody's birthday!

It was Asclepius' birthday. It wasn't his weekend to have his daughters, and Nimue had plans. Plans within plans, if you want to be cliche about it. But just in case something had changed and he did in fact have his daughters her plans included a bit of work on his part. If he was too occupied he would be able to refuse, but if not...

The plot began with an email to him that went as so:

Go here and talk to Lydia.

[*lyrics: Happy Birthday - Marilyn Monroe]

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She gave a soft hum into the kiss, lingering in it for a moment before touching her fingers to his cheek. "Now what manner of girlfriend would I be if I didn't give you a good birthday?"

She smiled up at him, caressing her fingers across his cheek then stepped back. "Could you open the Pinot Noir to let it breathe? The Reisling will need to be chilled for later."

"Of course," he said, "We don't want the tannins overpowering things. Where do you keep the corkscrew, my dear?"

"Right there in that drawer." She pointed to a drawer next to the oven which she opens letting out more of that salmon smell. "And dinner should be done soon."

"Thank you." He fished out the corkscrew, and carefully opened the bottle, letting the oxygen get to the wine. "There we go. Give it about 20 or 30 minutes and it should be good to go."

He smiled.
"You're planning to spoil me, aren't you?"

Bent before the oven like she is he got a pretty good view down the front of her dress as she lifted her head to give him a sly look. "Oh you have no idea."

She chuckled, looking back at the salmon steaks then slid them back into the oven before straighting. "The timing should be perfect."

Ok, he looked. He was a healthy, red-blooded man and she WAS his girlfriend after all. But he did try to be discreet about it.

"Excellent. So, what do we do for the next twenty to thirty minutes?"

She brushed off her hands as she approached him with a little extra sway to her hips and a small but mischievous smile curling her lips. She didn't stop until she was well within his personal space and rested her hand lightly on his chest.

"Oh I'm sure we could come up with something."

"Well, aren't you the little minx?" he teased before drawing her into a soft kiss.

She smiled against the kiss, feeling herself grow those warm fuzzies that were humiliating to admit to, and found herself with a touch of pink to her cheeks when she pulled back enough to look at him, a soft smile on her face.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I think you've gotten plenty for me already, haven't you?" he said, "Not that I don't love every bit of it."

She chuckled and tapped him on the nose with that sly smirk of hers reappearing.

"Oh my dear, Galen. The night is only beginning."

"Is that so? Well, I suppose we haven't had the cake, nor have you sung to me yet," he teased.

"That," she wrinkled her nose as she tapped his nose again, "comes later." Somehow the way she inflected those words made them seem slightly innuendo-ish.

"Ah, very true. Dinner comes first, doesn't it?" he said.

Just then, his phone went off. "Oh. One moment..." He picked it up. "Hello?"

A smile broke out on his face.
"Hi, Emmy. Oh, thank you, sweetheart. Yes, Daddy's having a good birthday. How are you and your sister? Behaving yourselves? That's my girl. Is Haley there too? Can you put her on? Hi, Haley. It's Daddy. Yes, sweetheart, I got the card. Did you pick it out by yourself? Well, it's beautiful. Yes, just like you. Of course I haven't forgotten! We'll do your birthday when I see you next. You're getting to be such a big girl! All right. Listen, Miss Drake is making Daddy dinner, so I have to go. Be good. Love you, too. Bye-bye, sweetheart." He snapped the phone shut.

"The girls just wanted to wish me a happy birthday," he explained.

She had taken the moment to go back to the oven and check the salmon. Judging it just about finished she brought it out to start brushing it with a maple glaze, smiling as she heard the conversation.

It lifted when he hung up and she began portioning the fish onto plates. "They are exceedingly sweet."

"That they are," he agreed, and noticed her serving up the fish.

"Ah, I take it dinner is ready?"

"Almost." She turned to check a steamer she had on the stove then removed it to drain the asparagus that would go with the salmon.

A casual flick of her fingers sends a sharp stab of air at the iPod speakers she has set up nearby, deftly pushing the Play button on the touch screen, then Enigma begins to quietly fill the background.

"I have been practicing."

"It certainly looks that way," he said, coming up behind her and brushing a kiss against her hair.

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