(1940-03-17) Happy Birthday, Mister Moody
Details for Happy Birthday, Mister Moody
Summary: Annie bring Tim breakfast in bed to celebrate his birthday. St. Patrick who?
Date: 17 March 1940
Location: Moody Residence, The Square Mile

The morning of St. Patrick's day dawns, chilly and mild in Londontown. Well, St. Patrick's day to many, but to Annie it's all the more special for being Tim's birthday. The young witch slipped out of bed carefully, having to slide out from under Tim's protective arm, hurrying down to the kitchen on bare feet as she ties her robe around her waist. Bowie, of course, is already up and starting preparations for the plans he and his little mistress have made, but it's Annie that prepares Tim's breakfast on the gas cooker. Bacon and eggs, toast in a holder to keep it from getting soggy, a scotch egg standing proud in a china egg cup (that just happens to have a shamrock decorating it), even orange juice to go along with his cuppa. The last touch to the breakfast is purely Bowie, a little bouquet of green flowers that crackle and pop up a continuous volley of sparkling green bursts, like tiny fireworks.

When they have the tray all ready Annie pauses to first stoop down to give Bowie a kiss between his pointy ears. "We're so lucky t'have yeh, Bowie love. Light the candle for us," she urges with a playful smile. The candle would be a single slender taper, poked into the top of the scotch egg, that flares into life as the little elf giggles and capers. "Master will be so surprised!

Carrying the tray carefully, not giving the task over to the ease of magic but doing it herself, Annie mounts the stairs and nudges open the bedroom door with one foot, starting to sing a birthday song to waken the birthday boy as she enters.

Tim exhales and inhales in a soft little snorfle as he blinks twice and opens his eyes taking in his surroundings before he comprehends and a big smile, boyish and shy, crosses his face as he wipes the sleep crust from his eyes as he shifts and shuffles about to sit up more resting against the pillows on the headboard. "Wots this!? Feast for a king, and in bed." He croons happily. One hand itches at one of his scars on his chest, a morning ritual of sorts. While the other lifts up to help her get the tray settled. Once it is settled both hands reach to pull her in and down to tuck in next to him so that he can give her a long and grateful kiss.

The candle is then puffed out and he licks his lips as he looks over the prepared meal. "This is grand love. Grand. Happy St. Patrick's Day." Another kiss is stolen and he lifts up a tip of toast from the rack to offer to her with a sprinkling of eggs on top of it. Even his birthday breakfast is first shared with the love of his life before he tucks into it himself. Since the wax has cooled he uses the candle like a popsicle stick and he takes a bite of his scotch egg like it was a lollipop. The sounds he makes as he chews are clearly one of pleasure.

Annie flips down the little legs on the tray and gets it in place as she answers Tim, "King of our little castle deserves naught but th'best." She's grinning as she settles carefully in next to him, her fingers stroking his cheek softly in the good morning/happy birthday kiss. "Happy birthday, m'love," she says in return to his holiday greeting to her. The female redhead of the pair pushes her head forward to nip a bit of the offered toast, then she rests back and leans on him lightly so Tim can partake of his feast. When he goes at his scotch egg like a lollipop she giggles and chides him with soft affection, "My daft love. Are yeh gonna want them like this all the time then, with a handle for yeh? How we spoil yeh," she says with an indulgent cluck of her tongue.

Tim tilts his head to the side so he can rest it against her as he chews. A ponderous hmmm, escapes him as he eyes his Scotch Egg Lollipop earnestly. "Ye know, it's really nae a bad idea… keeps the fingers from being greasy, so the wife dinnae shriek when ye slide your hands over her silkies afterwards." His smile goes sheepish and he even blushes a bit at his own cheekiness. While he chews he takes a moment to test his statement. The egg is put back in its cup and that hand slides into her robe to caress the night gown beneath.

There's a giggle at Tim's words, and a soft squeak as his hand roams, but Annie doesn't pull away. "Now then," she teases lightly, twisting to give his cheek a soft kiss, "Yeh'll upset yer brekkie an' I'll make yeh answer t'Bowie for th'mess." She points to his tray, "Eat. The naughty bits come later." Annie doesn't give Tim a chance to question that, but instead, as she snuggles back up to him, she goes on. "I didn't know if I should plan th'day, so I've made 'sort of' plans depending on what yeh'd like t'do with yer day."

Tim mmurrs when he's told to eat and naughty needs to wait. But he easily complies and turns to tucking into his breakfast. "Well, I'll certainly be well fed for my day. Wot ever we may do. This is delicious love. Thank ye so." A kiss to her cheek is snuck in. "As for plans, well, why don't we go step by step. Should be careful out there in celebrating. Some might not realize we're celebrating my birthday and not Ireland's Patron Saint an' that'll cause a stir." Muggle politics putting a crimp in Tim's life once again. "I dinnae mind… can spend all day in bed and have the best birthday ever, so long as ye are in the bed with me."

As Tim eats Annie tries to give him enough room to maneuver his arms easily without being more than a breath away from him. One hand drifts up, idly combing his hair back with slender fingers, smiling as she watches him. "Welcome, my darlin' heart." She muses over his concern for a beat, then suggests, "We could put a big sign on yeh that says 'birthday boy'." Her attempt at a straight face with the words is a miserable failure.

Tim chuckles shaking his head, "Ahhhh no. But thanks love." He steals yet another quick kiss. "So what are yer "sort of" plans, hmm?" He makes her another bit of toast and egg and even puts half a piece of bacon on it before he passes it over to her so he can make one for himself since his scotch egg was inhaled already.

Well familiar with Tim's thoughtfulness in sharing, his breakfast is usually big enough for one and a half meals, and Annie accepts the bacon, egg and toast with a pleased, "Ta, love." She takes a bite of it and chews quickly to appease a stomach set to growling from the foodish smells, before answering. "I thought yeh might like if we went t'th' cottage for a bit of away time t'day," she speculates, having already gone up and done some spring cleaning just in case. There's a touch of sadness as she notes, "I'd thought of th'zoo, but they've sent a lot of th'animals away." For their own safety, when bombing was anticipated at war's start. She perks again, going on, "Or we could go see a film an' have a bite out for dinner." There's a shrug, and she tucks her arm under his to capture it lightly, still mindful of letting him eat, "Doesn't matter as much t'me as spendin' th' day with my wonderful husband."

Tim is mostly done so he lifts up the tray to set it down aside on the bed so that he can roll and draw his wife up right beside him. "Cottage sounds nice. As does catching a film. Good plans all, could do a bit of each too. Yee have a wonderful husband? Sounds like 'e's a very lucky man, to have yee. Bit jealous of'm." He teases as he leans in to kiss a trail from her lips to just below an ear on her neck.

Annie squirms up closer to Tim, gets a little tangled in her robe, and with a bit of wiggling frees herself from the garment and pushes it aside. It's much more comfortable in just her nightgown, and affords her the freedom of movement to wrap her arms around Tim. She tips her head to facilitate the line of kisses, murmuring back, "Mmmhmmm. He's strong, an' handsome, clever, an' so charmin'. I'm the lucky one, t'have him. I say a prayer of thanks, every single day." There's a pause, and amusement back in her soft words as she adds, "An' he's a randy one, my Tim is." She giggles again and pulls back slightly, attempting a stern look as her eyes focus on his face. "I'm thinkin' that if yeh have yer way, we'll not leave this bed t'day at all."

Tim blushes and clears his throat as he leans back after her teasing. "I'm sorry, yee just make me feel so amorous. Cannae help myself. Only one in the world that makes me feel like this. Miss yee so when we're apart. Feel like a lil kid when yer away. So when we're together, I just wanna be apart of yee, be so close an' inside of yee. It's the only time I feel like I can take a true breath, deep an' fillin'. Simply mad for ye Mrs. Moody."

How in the world can Annie not relent at Tim's words? The stern look is given up, her smile back, curving lips that then press softly to Tim's bare shoulder as she leans forward. "An' I'm mad for yeh as well, Mister Moody." There's a quick peck to his cheek, and then she's slipping away from him again. "Stay here in th'warm bed for a bit longer, love. I'll take the tray down." As she reaches for the tray she goes on. "An' I'll bring yer birthday present when I come back." With tray in hands she turns for the door, stopping at the threshold to look back at Tim. Her gaze is soft and loving, and she balances the tray on one hand as she blows him a kiss before she returns to the kitchen, leaving Tim alone for a few minutes.

Tim actually gives a little whimper and whine like said child suffering from separation anxiety. But it comes with a little sheepish smile. He kisses at the air in return and then dives into the pillows face first when she leaves him alone. He proves to be a bit of a sleepy head and is right as he is when she originally left him. Snoozing with his head buried in the pillows. The pillow over his head perks a bit when the door opens, showing he's not completely out cold and he wants her to know that for her, he'll get up all over again. A muffled, "Pressies?" Comes from underneath.

Bowie took care of wrapping one of Tim's presents, a new lens for his camera that he'd been talking about but hadn't yet bought because it was priced a bit dear. She'd tucked away a little bit from the grocery money over the past few weeks so she could surprise him with it, hoping every day that he hadn't decided yet to splurge and just go buy it himself.

The second present might not be a total surprise. While downstairs, Annie did a quick change into a little lacy slip, the original white charmed to an emerald green, a bit of alteration shortening it considerably. Around her waist she's tied a ribbon of a lighter, spring green, complete with a large bow on her stomach. She grins at his hibernation, confirming, "Pressies. Come out an' decide which t'open first."

Tim's arm baffs the pillow off of his head. A quick turn and roll and he's sitting up again looking so very sated, yet excited for whatever she might have for him. When he sees her he is struck in awe. One of the scars on his chest is rubbed at as iff the sight of her beauty was like the scar was from the power of it striking into his very flesh. "Look at ye, oh me fair wife. Such a sight Mrs. Moody. How can I decide? There's no contest. Co'mere?" He opens his arms and reaches to give a gentle slow tug at the ribbon around her.

It's clear from the smile on her face that Annie is pleased with Tim's choice, although she would have understood if he wanted to open the box first. Instead, she puts the box gently onto the bedside table as she steps into Tim's reach, and as the bow comes undone and the ribbon slips down to the floor over her hips, gentle fingers turn his chin up so she can give him a long, languid and exceptionally warm kiss. She doesn't pull away, but instead whispers against his lips, "Happy birthday, husband." It'll be some time before their attention returns to the wrapped box, but it'll keep.

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