Forge & Crystal: Anniversary dinner
Feb. 1st, 2009 09:18 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMiraculously reaching the one-year mark in their relationship, Forge and Crystal find an unconventional place to have a quiet dinner.
Two candles lit the table, the flickering glow reflecting off the surface of the fine china and silverware. The plates were set with a rather fancy dinner of poached fish and asparagus, with champagne flutes full of clear water casting wavering shadows across the tableau.
It could have been any standard romantic dinner, although it was possibly the first one held on the flyers' platform atop the mansion's roof. Outside the boundaries of the platform, the frigid winds of a New York winter whipped around, but within the candles' glow, the air was warm and still - thanks to one of the parties seated at the table.
Dressed in his best suit, Forge raised his glass to Crystal with a smile. "Happy anniversary," he said excitedly.
It was less than a week until Crystal had lived for twenty-one years, but those six days still existed and were what kept champagne from being in the flutes. She raised her glass of water to Forge and smiled. "Happy anniversary, John." She had dressed up for the occasion as well, wearing an elegant black dress with one strap.
"It's been an... interesting year," Forge mused, quietly cutting into his fish. "I mean, we've seen some weird stuff together in the past years. Dreamworlds, disappearing islands, squid-subs at the bottom of the ocean - but I've appreciated the past few weeks of peace and quiet."
The admission was sincere - since the return of their missing friends, the tone of life at the mansion had been quiet, aside from the minor incident with a teleporting assassin the week prior. With the lack of crises, Forge had found himself to his surprise spending less time in the workshop and more time above ground, usually in Crystal's company.
He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small envelope wrapped with a red ribbon, sliding it across the table to Crystal. "As anniversary presents go, it took some thinking of what would be appropriate, but I'm told this should be enjoyable."
Crystal took the envelope and removed the ribbon, setting it down. She opened the envelope and gently removed its contents: two tickets to see a performance of The Tempest. She smiled more and moved carefully to lean over and give him a kiss. Then she reached to the side and after a moment held up a small, wrapped box and floated it over to Forge.
Unwrapping the box, Forge withdrew a metal-banded watch, the hands moving in short, perfectly accurate arcs. Brushing his thumb over the face, he could feel the intricacies of shifting gears, springs, and precisely balanced tourbillons made it less of a timepiece and more of a wearable work of art. Looking more closely, he saw the Apollo 11 logo set into the surface. "Wow," he breathed, buckling it carefully onto his right wrist. "This is amazing, thank you." Returning the kiss, he smiled at Crystal. "You know, we have your birthday next week and then Valentine's Day - I'm beginning to think you just have some February conspiracy."
"Well, you chose the day of our first date," Crystal pointed out, still smiling. "Therefore, the conspiracy must be yours." She took a sip from her flute. Left unspoken but in her mind was the fact that no one chose the day when Attilan returned from the watery dimension to the one they currently occupied, and therefore her new "birthday" had not been chosen anymore than her actual date of birth had been.
"Moment of opportunity," Forge replied as he took another bite of his meal. "Were I a more sinister sort, I'd claim that it was all part of some elaborate plan, but in all honesty?" He sighed slightly and set his silverware down. "I'm making this up as I go along, and I think we're doing well. I mean, I'm happy. And I think you are too, right?"
Crystal nodded, lost in thought for a moment. She supposed she was happy. She couldn't say that she didn't have any regrets, that she didn't wish that things could have turned out differently than they had, but given that what had happened had happened, she was not in a bad place at all. She was here at the mansion with Forge because she wanted to be, free to come and go as she saw fit. Her path in life hadn't gone at all the way she'd thought it would, but she had finished one degree, was pursuing another, had a license to teach, had helped people both at the request of others and on her own.
"Yes. I am happy."
Forge smiled broadly at the omission. "In that case, I think I'll probably claim it's an elaborate plan. Keeping up appearances, you know."
Wiping his mouth with his napkin and nodding to the two empty plates, Forge looked up at Crystal with a glint in his eye. "Normally this is where I'd suggest a night drive, but if you're up for it - would you like to go for a flight?"
Crystal's chair moved away from the table and she rose from the chair, her feet an inch above the platform. She offered a hand to Forge. "Shall we?"
Two candles lit the table, the flickering glow reflecting off the surface of the fine china and silverware. The plates were set with a rather fancy dinner of poached fish and asparagus, with champagne flutes full of clear water casting wavering shadows across the tableau.
It could have been any standard romantic dinner, although it was possibly the first one held on the flyers' platform atop the mansion's roof. Outside the boundaries of the platform, the frigid winds of a New York winter whipped around, but within the candles' glow, the air was warm and still - thanks to one of the parties seated at the table.
Dressed in his best suit, Forge raised his glass to Crystal with a smile. "Happy anniversary," he said excitedly.
It was less than a week until Crystal had lived for twenty-one years, but those six days still existed and were what kept champagne from being in the flutes. She raised her glass of water to Forge and smiled. "Happy anniversary, John." She had dressed up for the occasion as well, wearing an elegant black dress with one strap.
"It's been an... interesting year," Forge mused, quietly cutting into his fish. "I mean, we've seen some weird stuff together in the past years. Dreamworlds, disappearing islands, squid-subs at the bottom of the ocean - but I've appreciated the past few weeks of peace and quiet."
The admission was sincere - since the return of their missing friends, the tone of life at the mansion had been quiet, aside from the minor incident with a teleporting assassin the week prior. With the lack of crises, Forge had found himself to his surprise spending less time in the workshop and more time above ground, usually in Crystal's company.
He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small envelope wrapped with a red ribbon, sliding it across the table to Crystal. "As anniversary presents go, it took some thinking of what would be appropriate, but I'm told this should be enjoyable."
Crystal took the envelope and removed the ribbon, setting it down. She opened the envelope and gently removed its contents: two tickets to see a performance of The Tempest. She smiled more and moved carefully to lean over and give him a kiss. Then she reached to the side and after a moment held up a small, wrapped box and floated it over to Forge.
Unwrapping the box, Forge withdrew a metal-banded watch, the hands moving in short, perfectly accurate arcs. Brushing his thumb over the face, he could feel the intricacies of shifting gears, springs, and precisely balanced tourbillons made it less of a timepiece and more of a wearable work of art. Looking more closely, he saw the Apollo 11 logo set into the surface. "Wow," he breathed, buckling it carefully onto his right wrist. "This is amazing, thank you." Returning the kiss, he smiled at Crystal. "You know, we have your birthday next week and then Valentine's Day - I'm beginning to think you just have some February conspiracy."
"Well, you chose the day of our first date," Crystal pointed out, still smiling. "Therefore, the conspiracy must be yours." She took a sip from her flute. Left unspoken but in her mind was the fact that no one chose the day when Attilan returned from the watery dimension to the one they currently occupied, and therefore her new "birthday" had not been chosen anymore than her actual date of birth had been.
"Moment of opportunity," Forge replied as he took another bite of his meal. "Were I a more sinister sort, I'd claim that it was all part of some elaborate plan, but in all honesty?" He sighed slightly and set his silverware down. "I'm making this up as I go along, and I think we're doing well. I mean, I'm happy. And I think you are too, right?"
Crystal nodded, lost in thought for a moment. She supposed she was happy. She couldn't say that she didn't have any regrets, that she didn't wish that things could have turned out differently than they had, but given that what had happened had happened, she was not in a bad place at all. She was here at the mansion with Forge because she wanted to be, free to come and go as she saw fit. Her path in life hadn't gone at all the way she'd thought it would, but she had finished one degree, was pursuing another, had a license to teach, had helped people both at the request of others and on her own.
"Yes. I am happy."
Forge smiled broadly at the omission. "In that case, I think I'll probably claim it's an elaborate plan. Keeping up appearances, you know."
Wiping his mouth with his napkin and nodding to the two empty plates, Forge looked up at Crystal with a glint in his eye. "Normally this is where I'd suggest a night drive, but if you're up for it - would you like to go for a flight?"
Crystal's chair moved away from the table and she rose from the chair, her feet an inch above the platform. She offered a hand to Forge. "Shall we?"
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