(1939-11-15) Family Planning
Details for Family Planning
Summary: On a little mini-getaway, Tim and Annie talk about their future.
Date: 15 november 1939
Location: Tim's family cottage in Ireland
Related: Quiet Celebrations

The sea rumbles and hisses as it crashes against the out crop of cliffs before it grows more still and burbles and laps at the shore several feet away from the feet of the couple that have left their busy week apart to escape to their little Irish hide-away for the weekend. A thick quilt is under them so the rocky shore isn't felt on their backsides while they cuddle on the beach. A thick blanket is over them. Tim acts like a lounge for Annie, his knees up under her arms as she lounges between his legs. Tim chin on top of her head he has been quiet just letting the serenity claim him. Soft kisses are placed on top of her head. Beneath the blanket his hands wander over her, rubbing her to keep her warm and just to feel her for the sake of feeling her. "Sing us a bit love?" He wonders aloud as he tilts his head so that he can see her face.

Reclined back on her very most favourite lounge in the world, Annie's eyes are closed as she listens to the murmurings of the sea, her head rested back against Tim's chest. The request brings a curve to her lips, but her blue eyes remain closed as she ponders all the songs she knows. She decides on one that she doesn't think Tim's heard before, something she learned while she was up in Scotland. It stuck with her particularly because it's the tale of a fair maiden named Annie who fell in love with a simple man, to the dismay of her family. Her voice rises, mingling with the sounds of the sea, the lyrics touching in their tragic tale.

Tim sways with her and smiles as he listens to the song a grin breaking out when she first sings her own name. The second time the love interest is mentioned he gives her a squeeze and inserts in a sing song manner his own name Timmy Moody over Andrew. When the Annie in the song receives harsh treatment she's given more loving squeezes and tucks his head down to kiss her neck. Once the song has reached its completion he claps his hands with his arms wrapped around her and cheers the Irish equivalent of 'Bravo!'

Annie grins, turning her head to return a kiss to Tim's cheek. "It's not a very happy song," she admits, "But Uncle Richard says there's never been a happy song written in Scotland's whole history." She snuggles back against Tim, musing, "'Course, there's always the sea shantys, but some of them a proper lady would never sing in public." A giggle drifts up, mingling with the chuckle of the water as the tide pulls back out before making another rush to try and tickle the couple's toes. "I'm happy yeh got a bit of time, I miss yeh when there's so much work t'be done. But then when I see yeh again," she adds, craning her neck to look at him, "I fall in love all over."

Tim chortles, "Very wise." He calls her uncle and then spends quite the bit of time looking down at her after she says the sweetest of things. "Well I was about to say then to hell with being away, but if it's keeping you in love with me. Then back to work I go!" He teases and feints in that he's going to get up.

"Oh no yeh don't!" Annie contradicts, as she twists, getting a knee onto the blanket and pushing herself up onto him bodily. Her arms wrap around his neck, the grip tight but not stranglingly so, and lands belly to belly with him, the blanket covering them from the sea breezes shifting but not entirely off them. "Now I've got yeh, I'm not lettin' yeh go until th' very last second of th' very last minute possible."

Tim oofs more dramatically than warranted and then acts like she's knocked him out cold on the blankey underneath them. His hands however soon lift from their sprawl to wars around her waist and take a light hold of the pert swells of her rump. There is a need to shift around some under her because neither of them can get comfortable like that while his base reaction to her love and affection is digging into them both. "Aye, tis a good plan this one. A touch randomly his face twists up in thought, "Wonder if there's a song about Tim….?"

Annie wriggles on top of Tim to try and help them adjust, possibly only making matters worse, but eventually they settle comfortably, her making absolutely no move to get off him. She peers down at him, her hair falling to tickle lightly at his cheek on one side. "I'd bet that there is, but it's likely no happier than th' Annie song," she speculates. "Are Irish songs any more cheerful?" She'll have to add some of those to her musical catalog, since she'll soon be married into the culture.

Much much worse and Tim makes a darling little strangled sound to drop the hint that that's the case. But when finally they are settled again and Tim sighs. "Aye, sure they are. Plenty of the sad one, but we've got the Scotch beat in the happy department." He winks to her and gives her a little bit of a tickle. "We also have a knack - more so then that scotch song - in making a very sad song sound quaint and cheery."

"Yeh'll teach me some?" Annie asks, peering down at Tim. "Then I'll be able t'sing yeh something that at least sounds less tearful despite th'words." The little witch grins at him, then ducks her head to steal a kiss. She makes it a brief one, having to reach then to pull the blanket covering them back as the wind tries to pluck it off them and expose the pair to the elements.

Tim acks and clambers to help her wrap them back up with the blanket. "O, well… most of the songs that I actually know are pub songs. Which just might put Sea Chanties in the running for nae M'Lady appropriate." He grins down at her and comes in to steal his stolen kiss back while he burritos them up in the blankets. "So ye know, there's been something on my mind all month. It's kept me quite the company on me long nights waiting up in the dark…"

There's another giggle, and Annie says, with a wrinkle of her nose, "Maybe yeh'll teach me them in private then an' we'll sing them together in th'bath." His words bring a curious cast to her eyes, likely one that he knows only too well, and she asks, "What's been on yer mind, love?"

Tim lets out another strangled simper when she mentions bath. But he does his best to focus. Really the two subjects to meet and so it's not too difficult for him to keep on the matter of, "Weans. Since that date at the Blackfriar, lil redheaded weans…" Lowering his head he gives her a tender Eskimo kiss. "Curious as to your thoughts on the matter." Now that they are in private and he's not a stammering mess.

Annie smiles, rubbing noses with Tim gently, finally relenting to roll to the side to nestle against him, only half on him instead of fully. She's not entirely heartless, after all. "Yeh know, Tim, I'd never really thought about it before. I know girls who grew up dreaming of having babies one day, but it just never seemed so important to me. There are already so many people in the world." Her words are soft, and might make him wonder at first, until she goes on. "But now… I think I'd like nothing more than t'have beautiful little babies with yeh."

Tim does in fact wonder. But when she finishes her thought he slides into that day dreamy look at her and he comes in to steal another kiss from her and this time he presses and rolls so tha it's him over some of her. "Aye, well, that's near exact as ye can get to the way I feel. With all the Banshee business, I've never wanted to put a child thru wot I went through as a boy." He drifts off just looking at her, lost in her eyes and thoughts but then something she said sinks in, she said babies, that's plural. He gives a giddy little giggle, "Babies oi? How many?" He's not been smiling for long but the watts in the smile have his cheeks going sore already.

One hand lifts, and Annie lightly traces the contours of Tim's face as they talk, imagining it in smaller form and mixed with some of her own features. "But now, their Da will be a respectable newspaper man, an' their Mum working in a library if she's not at home takin' care of 'em." She can almost see when it registers on him that she's indeed talking of more than one, and she laughs softly. "I was thinkin' at least two. One of each. Might have't go t'three t'get it right, though." Annie puts a thoughtful note into her words, but it's also a bit of a tease for Tim's benefit.

Tim hugs her under him and nuzzles his rough cheek into her tracing fingers. "Wot iffin we end up with four boys? I was thinking that we just throw caution to the wind and just love each other as we see fit an enjoy what, or whom come along from that?" His Irish roots are showing, big families!

Blue eyes widen in purposely comical shock. "Four?! Merlin's beard, Tim, yeh don't think we'd have enough practice by then t'get it right?" Annie relents, giggling, and inclines her head in acquiescence, "I think that's a fine idea. We'll see where life takes us." Her face softens again, love for him plainly shown in the tenderness in her eyes. "No babies or a dozen, I'll always be happy with yeh."

Tim stretches out like a cat over her. The act pops his foot out of the blankets and sure enough the extension of his foot is time to meet one of the laps of cold irish sea and just like that he's up on his feet digging the wet one into the blankets and doing a shivering dance, "Blimey that's freezing!" He shivers and shudders and acks when the blanket gets caught in the wind since he knocked it loose in all his shivering. Chasing the blanket down he calls out. "Get thee to the cottage! Plan change, we sit by the fire in autumn!" Not the beach! Or at least not that close to the water during intimate time.

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