milliways_bar | (no subject)

"I'm alright," Peter says, closing the book and putting it down. "Had a long day."

He's still trying to pretend this isn't actually his birthday. How silly.

*Incredibly silly, really. She smiles mischievously, leaning down to give him a slow kiss.* But it's getting better, I hope?

Peter has to grin at that, and kisses her back. "I would say so."

Good. *She beams, flicking some cake batter on the floor.* Now... why are you ignoring the fact that it's your birthday?

"I don't know what you're talking about," Peter says innocently.

*She blinks at him.*

Sometimes I swear you and Thom have made a pact to drive me slowly mad. Well. If it's not your birthday, than I guess you don't want your present. I'll just leave you to your reading as I know you are a very busy man. Good evening, Peter.

*Bowing, she quirks an eyebrow and backs up. Slowly.

Very slowly.

Maybe he will stop her.*

Peter blinks and stares at her for a long moment.

Before cracking.

"...Present?"

Mmmmm, present. *She hesitates, one eyebrow quirked.* But it's not your birthday, so I'll have to give it to someone else. Pity. I really think you would like it. Ah, well. *Shrugging, she starts to turn.*

"Well, maybe it's my birthday," Peter says, now sounding like he's actually accepting it. "I mean, just for another hour or two."

Oh, good. *She grins, offering him her hand.* In that case, I suppose you can have your present. Oh, and Thom said he would be by later. We had a rather spectacular fight last night, so don't be surprised if we are a bit skittish around each other. It will pass. Always does.

"Spectacular fight?" Peter raises an eyebrow as he takes her hand. "What was it about?" He knows better than to doubt it would blow over. He just is concerned about how they might have damaged each other, permanently or otherwise.

*Alanna sighs, lacing her fingers through his as they start toward the back door.*

He healed most of Bernard's scars last night - the ones from when he defaced the bar. There were a few he couldn't fix, and he decided that this made him a failure. Next thing I knew, he was raging about being a god, and pushing me -Thom never pushes me- and then he took issue with how I treat him. *She shrugs.*

"...what?" Peter stops and stares at her. "He pushed you? A -god-? What the fuck?"

He's not budging until she properly explains.

*Grumbling under her breath, she turns and looks at him.*

Basically? His pride took a hit. He wants to be a god, or the most powerful sorcerer, so he can't admit he's fallible. His grip on reality is tenuous at best, and he lost it there for a minute. Afterward? *She bites her lip.* Apparently he has long held a grudge over the way I tease him physically - dunking him, swatting, tickling, etc. I didn't know. Then he got mad because I'm overprotective, which I am, but with good reason.

*She swallows.* I get annoyed over how Val treats you, but sometimes I do the same things to Thom, albeit most likely with different motivations.

Peter puts a hand on her shoulder. "He was just upset over disappointment. You'll both be able to discuss it clearly later."

We talked earlier. He went swimming and dripped lake water all over me. It was sweet really. Anyway, he said he would find us. *Smiling, she tugs on his hand again.* Enough of that. This is your day, not mine. Let's go.

"So everything's alright?" Peter stands there, waiting for the answer.

*Alanna pales slightly, jerking her head sideways before he can see.

No, everything is not alright, and she's irritated that it took her this long to remember. Any spat with her brother, whether large or small, is completely unimportant in the face of Val's miscarriage. How could she forget until now?

She just so wants this to be a decent birthday for him.

Present and cake first, explanations later - perhaps even early tomorrow morning, when it's no longer his birthday. After all, there's nothing anyone can do. She can sit him down with a cup of coffee, drop the puppy in his lap and tell him.

It's eating her up in side, and she knows it's not necessarily right... but... she sighs. Regardless, he gets his present first.*

*bright smile* Everything is fine, Peter. Hurry. Your present won't wait forever.

"There's something you're not telling me," He observes, studying her seriously. "But I'll let it go. Maybe you're not ready." And he doesn't want to push her. "Just tell me you'll talk to me later?"

*Squeezing his hand, she kisses him.*

Peter, I promise you we will talk later. We have to talk later. I also promise *she kisses his hand* that a few hours isn't going to change anything. It will, however, spoil your present, and I am determined that you have a good birthday.

*With that, she jerks on his hand and leads him outside.*

Don't look directly at the tree. It will ruin the surprise.

Peter doesn't look directly at the tree. "Alright," He says, accepting her words. He trusts she will talk to him later.

Good. *Beaming, she walks in front of him, bouncing every other stride. She absently tries to rub some of the flour off her face, and maneuvers him so they approach from the back side of the tree. Just on the other side is the picnic she painstakingly laid out, complete with lopsided cake. The puppy is tied to the tree. She grins, certain that this will be perfect.

And it would be. If the cake was even remotely edible. Or if the puppy wasn't sitting in the very middle of the cake, wriggling in the icing while his tail wags happily.

Alanna swears.*

[OOC: Puppy! Puppy

]

Peter would snark about the cake if it was any other situation. But this? This is a -puppy- situation, so he just stares at her with wide eyes. "What...?"

Great merciful mother... shit. *She glares at the puppy.* How did you loosen your tie? Don't think I won't put you back where I found you.

*Muttering, she stalks over and scoops the puppy off the cake, giggling when it licks her face. She sits cross-legged on the ground, messy puppy in her lap, and smiles ruefully at Peter.*

Happy birthday. I don't think he got into the wine, but the cake is a total loss.

That's probably a good thing.

"I'm sorry," Peter says, feeling the need to apologize for it. "But I'm sure he was just.. curious." He grins a little, and stares at the puppy. "So this is...?"

He's afraid to ask it.