The big day was finally here.  Moving in.  After all the trouble of packing up their lives, trying to figure out what furniture they were going to use where, where to exactly move, and all the other details inherent in trying to relocate to another stage in one’s life.  Several “discussions” later and an entire legal pad of decision trees, pros/cons lists, and value assessments later, Akiva had finally come up with her top choice, but the more sentimental Dree had different feelings about the decision process.  Finally, the pair had come to a conscious, agreeable solution.   

Located on the outskirts of the city (far enough away that no one – Dree – could be pulled into the office for a “quick” meeting), but not too far that it was an overbearing commute or too difficult to visit family and friends who lived inside of the confines of the city, Akiva loved the house.  Dree had mentioned how it looked like limestone and he liked that feature, which Akiva also found to be visually appealing.  They had looked at flats first, but ultimately, the right feeling came from looking at houses – this house in particular.  And this one, not exactly small, but not unbearably large either, just felt homey.  Looking at the face of the house, she had to smile, though, as soon as she turned to the boxes that were in the driveway (typical of suburban homesteads), the smile faded just slightly. 

Taking off the sweatshirt she had been wearing off, Akiva tossed it on top of one of the boxes and reached behind her head, adjusting her pony tail before lifting the box and carrying it up the front walkway and into the front door.  The front room was starting to fill with boxes already, and those left outside were just going to continue to pile up.  Thankfully, most of them were charmed to be exceptionally light, making the move faster, but for some reason, no less sweaty. 

It always seemed like no matter what one did, he or she was bound to sweat when moving boxes.  Even with the furniture shrunk down to the size of dollhouse pieces and the boxes charmed, hot.  It was the middle of November – hot!  Wiping her forehead, she turned the box to find the label, reading “BEDROOM” and shoved it with all other similarly labeled boxes, trying to see if they’d actually have the room to do all of this in this room.  She supposed she could move the kitchen boxes that way, and nodded, taking her wand out of her pant pocket, making a sweeping motion so they slid across the floor and into the kitchen with ease. 

Following the boxes, she looked around – giggling excitedly as she took in the site of her new kitchen.  It was spacious and beautiful with an island and everything.  She had to admit, it was one of the strongest pulls towards this house, and just to make it feel exactly like she wanted, Akiva waved her wand to dissipate the smell of cinnamon around the room.  Taking a deep breath, it was heavenly, and she sighed, letting her shoulders drop and her eyes close, basking in the excitement for a moment. 

Her reverie was broken, however, when she heard something that sounded like falling from the living room.  She got her parents to watch Lady and Gordon for a few days while they transferred their things and set up the house, so she knew it couldn’t have been either of them, and she slowly opened her eyes, breathing in heavily one more time before poking her head around the corner, smiling brilliantly as she let her body follow and leaned against the wall.  “I might have to deduct your pay if anything is broke,” she teased, showing off her pleasant, excited, and playful mood, despite the sweaty task of moving boxes - it was worth it.

Moving day had come. Dreogan was thankful for a change, and that it was with Akiva. And that they weren't so close to London. And that the house had smooth, hardwood floors, as he was currently barefoot.

Dreogan, of course, was left with the lifting. The boxes were magicked, mostly, save, of course, when one had to expand them to access the things for unpacking. It was this process Dreogan had undergone when, upon enlarging a box and opening it, he realised that the box's label of "front room things" had not been exactly accurate. This belonged in the bedroom. Rather than bother with a reducto charm, Dree lifted the heavy box, quite large now. In fact, it obscured his vision so that he could not see his feet.

Dreogan picked his way carefully by memory around littered boxes about the front room, making quite good progress until, well, he didn't. Toe catching along the edge of a box, Dree cringed at first, the pain, and then the sensation of pitching forward, the box with him. He righted himself easily and fumbled with the box, but it thudded to the floor softly. He looked about him to see the cause of it: he had stumbled on the last box in the room. Of course. The last one. He ought to have known better than to think fate would be kind.

“I might have to deduct your pay if anything is broke,” he heard Akiva's voice from the kitchen and shook his head, sighing as he bent over the box to inspect the damage. Women -- supersensory.

"First off, you're not paying me anything," he called back. "Second, it's my stuff so if it's broken . . ." he pulled aside the bubblewrap and spell-o-tape that encased an object in the box, a vase, "and third off!" he called more loudly, "it's not!"

He turned to see her much closer and gave a challenging smirk, raising his eyebrows, as he placed the vase back in the box and lifted it again. A little show of strength never hurt. "How goes the kitchen?" he asked as he once more made his way -- without obstacle -- to the stairs that led to the bedroom upstairs.

Watching him bend over the box, Akiva could not help but smile to herself.  She recognized the handwriting on the side of the box – most assuredly his, and though his points were valid, he had clearly missed some of the playfulness she was trying to get across.  Never distract a man from moving the final few boxes into the house.  “Not paying you anything?” she called back in challenge, “Then I suppose you’d like to make your own dinner tonight?” she asked trying to suppress the giggle in her voice, moving her hands to her hips, popping it out to the left, just slightly, glad to see that the contents of the box were not damaged – and of course – that Dree was alright too.

He was turned away from her, bent over the box, making claims about what she was and was not doing and what was in the box.  She giggled softly and looked back into the kitchen, various boxes still around that, with a flick of her wand, would be unpacked and all set up.  It was the room she was most concerned with; they would need to eat later in the afternoon and she couldn’t really cook without the appropriate tools.  It was bad enough there were few groceries actually transferred in the move, so working with what they had was also going to be part of the challenge for the evening. 

It would get done though, she had no doubt about that – and had been more creative with less (she remembered many an occasion at the Pratt residence fashioning something out of nothing), and decided it was not worth worrying about at this point in time.  She’d get it done within the next ten minutes and then start moving on to other rooms in the house.  The rest of the downstairs would be easy, and then the upstairs wouldn't be that hard either - magic did make things easier than doing it by hand.  But unpacking was a lot less important than packing. 

Watching him as he stood up and lifted the box, turning toward the stairs, Kiva could not help but smile, unable to resist looking at his arms - oddly pronounced for him - clutching the box as he made his way towards the stairs.  She wasn't immune to all bouts of manly display, which she supposed carrying the box would qualify as, and a lazy smile painted her lips.  Strolling forward, Kiva clutched her hands in front of her and smiled, “Very good - smells like cinnamon now,” she informed him omitting the detail that nothing was actually unpacked yet and leaned over to give him a quick peck of a kiss (she just felt like it) before he mounted the stairs. 

She leaned against the wall - finding herself oddly comfortable with leaning, when that was not usually the case, and lazily grinned, “What about the bedroom?  Everything coming together?” 

“Then I suppose you’d like to make your own dinner tonight?”

There was that sassy smile. Dreogan bit his lip, shaking his head. "Huh-uh," he said, minimizing his words with the strain of carrying the box. "Though if by 'make your own dinner' you mean dial for a chinese, though, then I think . . . yes. Love the cooking, but. . ." he looked about at the mess. "Let's just . . . take it easy tonight. Enjoy this." He didn't want her bustling about, worrying about this and that. Though she didn't feel the need to constantly impress and apologise anymore -- they were comfortable together now, something Dreogan was supremely happy about -- she'd spend time in the kitchen and he'd watch on the other side of the island, perched on a barstool, or would go to his writing. Tonight, he wanted to spend it with her.

She seemed to have a similar idea as she leaned in for a brief kiss. Kissing with a large box between them wasn't the most comfortable of things, and while some -- parents particularly -- might not be averse to such tactics to enforce chastity, Dreogan found the box to be a bit of a hindrance.

He pulled away with a frown, frustrated to be holding that box. "Cinnamon, hmm?" he said, his expression melting into an impish smile. "Sounds good -- might clash with the chinese, though." No, he'd not really give her an option on that one. Besides. He had plans. Including a good bottle of champagne, some candles -- whenever they found them in the boxes -- and . . . well, that was it. Dreogan only drank alcohol very sparingly and on landmark occasions, and he couldn't think of many more important occasions than this.

Though, the bottle'd probably go bad before they ever had the heart -- or stomach -- or mind -- to finish it.

Kiva was looking at him, waiting for an answer to something. He had been too busy thinking about the champagne -- where it might be, how soon it ought to be chilled and how he could get that past her without her seeing . . . everything for tonight . . .

"Er. . ." he stalled, trying to think of what she might have asked. "Yes. I think so." He answered, hoping the uncertainty would cover it if the answer had, in fact, been "no."

Chinese food. Akiva loved Chinese, there was no doubt about that, but she had anticipated cooking.  Perhaps if it had been a month or two ago, she would be disappointed she wouldn’t get to show off a little, especially in their new kitchen, but there was this little snap in the back of her head that signaled for relief and she nodded at his decision to get Chinese food.  It would give them time to finish organizing everything and just enjoy the fact that they were in their house. 

It was still a bit of a foreign concept to Akiva, sharing a house with someone other than a relative.  She hadn’t even lived with George.  But, when Dree asked her, she hadn’t even hesitated.  Usually, she would take forever to make a decision on such a big life change, but she just said yes.  That clearly meant something, and giggling at his strain with the box.  It must have been heavy. Not that it stopped her from stopping him for that quick kiss. 

Not exactly comfortable kissing with a box in the way, it had to be quick and she leaned back, laughing softly about the cinnamon thing.  She rolled her eyes at him as he readjusted the box and smirked, “My old kitchen smelled like cinnamon too – and I don’t recall one complaint about that,” she teased, “I get it – we’re ordering Chinese. You don’t need to tell me twice.” 

“Are you going to get your usual? After I get the kitchen set, I’ll look something up and order – should give us enough time,” she called after him as he continued up the stairs, not wanting to keep him putting down that heavy box.  Of course, it appeared that he did not look as though he had been paying close attention to what she was saying, not surprising with the things that had to get done up there too. 

Shaking her head, she laughed and nodded.  She'd just order a few of the usual choices (leftovers were perfect for taking in for lunch anyway), and something would be of his preference tonight.  It was a decent solution to whatever he was doing up there, probably rifling through the boxes and things.  Turning her wand in her fingers, Akiva smirked just a bit and tapped the wand to her lips, placing a kiss in the palm of her hand – an almost transparent reflection of her own lips visible, and she blew the lips up the stairs.  They would find their desired target – charms worked like that, at least when done properly. 

She turned on her heel as soon as she saw the pink trail disappear around the corner and walked back into the kitchen, peeling open the boxes of utensils, dishware, containers, then another box of appliances – toaster, tea pot, percolator – all the necessities, plus the kitchen extras, like her wireless, a vase, and other miscellaneous things.  There was a lot here, she reasoned, looking over the boxes that expanded and actually took on their weight as she opened the flaps – probably why Dree was struggling with that box so much at the base of the stairs. 

To make this whole process go quicker – as she usually did, Akiva took her wireless out of the box first and placed it on the counter above the sink and in the window, propping up the antennae to pick up the radio waves and flipped it on.  Turning up the volume, she found the first station with the most pleasant music playing, and stepped away, glad to have that set up. 

Before she knew it, with the help of a bit of music the kitchen was looking like it actually belonged to people, and she smiled, making her way toward the dining room - a phonebook sitting on the tabletop.  It was time to order some dinner and get the living room set up while they waited.  “I’m calling, Dree!” she warned and picked up the landline that was hooked up, leaning against the tabletop while she waited for them to pick up. 

"Are you going to get your usual?" The question of Dree's life. He was constantly being teased for his predictability. The way he saw it, circumstance threw so many wrenches in the machinery that ran one's life -- it was nice to have a little bit stable in life. And didn't all women say they wanted a man who knew what they wanted? None of this experimentation.

"Well," he blushed. "Maybe. Gimme a minute . . ."  He puffed as he completed the walk to the bedroom upstairs and dropped the box heavily on the floor the moment he got in, cringing as he was certain the box made a sound. A pink kiss floated across the air, wafting into the room before landing on the collar of his shirt. He shook his head, blushing further. Kiva -- thoughtful, sentimental, and a bit ridiculous. And he'd not change a thing. He looked down at the kiss, watching as it faded into the olive green of his shirt.

"Wait!" he said as she called up that she was dialing already. "Give me a moment to figure it -- ow!" he cringed as he stubbed his toe on the threshold. Had he noticed they were raised like that before? Who would do such a thing? Poor design, in his opinion. But. . . it was now his poor design.

"I--" he began to call from the top of the stairs, taking them two at a time with a slight limp. "Tell them I want . . ." This was hardly enough time. He couldn't think! This was supposed to be. . . he wanted something. . . "Ah. . . the usual. But I want more fortune cookies! Tell them I want the fortune cookies. I've got a tab at that place from a faulty order, too! Tell them it's with Dreogan Eleor!"

He was now at the foot of the stairs. He could hear the sound of the wireless playing a light, cheerful tune and Dreogan poked his head into the room. "You haven't even started!" he said, a joking accusation. Remembering she was on the phone, he bit his lip and smiled. "Are you on hold?" He'd learned about a year  ago what that meant -- and still loved saying it. It sounded very Muggle.

Hearing the clatter from upstairs, Akiva was glad she was on hold with the Chinese place.  They must have been quite busy because as soon as the other line picked up, she was told – in quite the rush – that she would “please be on hold for few minute,” and then the line went silent.  She sighed and nodded, sitting on the edge of the table and inclining her head toward the stairs where she saw Dree clattering down, sort of limping – calling after her. 

She raised both of her eyebrows at him as he declared that he did, indeed, want the usual – despite having yelled for her to wait a second moments before, and she laughed with a distinct fondness for the fact that he, at times, tried desperately to avoid being predictable, and usually, more often than not, allowed himself to fall back into that pattern.  Akiva certainly didn’t mind, as she was a creature of habit as well, but it was cute.  She giggled and nodded, jotting down on the menu where she had circled their respective orders (knew the system far too well) a note for extra fortune cookies. 

“Got it,” she smiled at him, pushing to more fully sit on the table and cross her ankles as she waited.  She listened carefully for any sounds of clicking that would alert her the man was coming back to take her order, and she sighed.  Oh, she could already tell this was going to be a good evening, especially when Dree noted that they had given him a faulty order before.  “Is this the place with the bags that have ‘Thank You’ spelled wrong on them?” She asked, curiously, still waiting for the man to pick up the phone. 

He was taking an extraordinarily long time with this.  She puffed out a little billow of air in displeasure, and looked at Dree as he uttered the most muggle phrase she thought he had ever used – and did so correctly.  Laughing, mostly out of sheer amusement that she never would have expected it, considering his… particularly bad relationship with the mobile phone, Akiva grinned, “Yeh – This git –“ she stopped dead in her tracks, the click went over and the ‘git’ she had referred to definitely started speaking at the same time she had. 

Blushing deeply, she readjusted the phone and held up her hand to Dree, signaling that she was now on the phone and then picked up the menu, fumbling for a moment. “Um… yes… I’d like to place an order for Delivery, Please…” she sighed, going though the address portion of the whole affair, correcting him three times before he could get the number correct, and then moving on to the actual food, ordering their usuals, and adding at the end “This is for a Dreogan Eleor,” she smiled at Dree, “and if you could please put extra fortune cookies in, that would be great.  Thank you so much!” 

She was then informed that the order would be there in ‘forty-fi’e minute,’ and to have a nice day.  Hanging up the phone, Akiva continued to sit on the table, grinning as she hung up.  She started to blush all over again and pushed a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of her loose ponytail back, “I do hope he didn’t hear me with the whole git thing…” she laughed slightly awkwardly.  "That could end quite badly..."

"Don't even," Dreogan stated with a grin as she raised her eyebrows knowingly at his failed attempts to deviate. "The usual is the usual because it's so good," he defended unnecessarily; Kiva had already moved on to talking about the bags and Dree grinned.

"Yes. Ho-Ho Gourmet," he clarified. She began to elaborate, using  a word that was not bad but was not in the daily Akiva lexicon, either. Dree was half tempted to laugh, half worried perhaps that the move had been stressful for her. Of course changing one's life never was without its hang-ups, but . . . she seemed to be smiling, which was a certain sign, and swinging her feet . . . The radio was still on. . .

So that meant things were fine, right?

Women needed to come with instruction manuals. He had the small consolation that Kiva, not as perceptive or attuned to reading him as he, her. Which allowed him to, at times, keep things from her. Serious things -- like Eldwyn and his father and the death dreams -- not all of which he had divulged yet. Or fun things: like surprises and little presents.

Dree sincerely hoped she was in a good mood. He rubbed the back of his neck as he looked about for a place to sit and, not seeing anything -- the furniture must still have been magicked to a smaller size and tucked away somewhere -- he hoisted himself up onto the surface of the counter-top island beside her, shimmying in closer to her to make her laugh.

It was always worth making himself look ridiculous to get that laugh.

She blushed and he heard the voice come back on as the order was completed.

“I do hope he didn’t hear me with the whole git thing…” she laughed slightly awkwardly.  "That could end quite badly..."

"There was nothing to indicate that you were talking about him, Kiv," Dreogan assured in his customarily smooth voice that he adopted when trying to stop his mother's fretting, or instill (unsuccessfully) some reason in to Adon, or, now, trying to keep Akiva from guilting herself needlessly -- her favourite little sin. "Besides," he said, "it could end quite well. We've got fortune cookies!" He looked around and added, "and a house, now. And each other, and that vase which maybe has a hairline fracture, as it turns out."

Finally, with all of the phone nonsense done, Akiva could press the off button on the hand held device and lay it down on the counter beside her, fully enjoying the fact that they now had an island, rather than the much smaller kitchens that either of their flats had.  It had been the one thing that really mattered in the selection process to Akiva – that and the neighborhood and proximity to the important things (like food… ), okay, well a lot had been important, but as for the interior of the house, a good kitchen had been of prime importance.  This was the best they found, at least in her eyes.

It had been a hectic month, giving notice to the landlord, packing, taking almost every free night and weekend to look at places for the first few weeks, submitting forms – dizzying, but at least it was over, and they could reap the benefits of that decision process now.  Leaning her head against his shoulder, Akiva giggled softly.  It was coming together… albeit slowly, but Dree would have it done sooner than she would – he liked to get things like that done quickly, whereas Akiva was one to take her time. 

Sliding her arm around his back, Akiva recognized the voice immediately – the somewhat hushed, very smooth and flat tone that was meant to be soothing – and it worked.  Nodding in agreement, Kiva leaned up, kissing him briefly after his declaration of fortune cookies.  “I really did pick a winner, free fortune cookies for life!” she teased, smiling briefly, but having to add, “Amongst other things,” at the end, just in case he didn’t get that she was joking.

She always seemed to have a hard time figuring out what he was thinking or how he reasoned things, so sometimes she tried to be explicit just in case he might have interpreted it the wrong way.  And then, of course, he added on to his little explanation and she grinned as she hopped off the counter top, “Ah! I thought I heard something break.  That’s the last time I use that moving company,” her wink was entirely exaggerated, as Kiva was not exactly the BEST at such an action, but it was meant in a flirty way, accented by the smirk decorating her face and the next words, “their mover was kind of cute though, I should have gotten his number…” 

She could not keep a straight face for any of this, and laughed vibrantly.  She was most assuredly in a good mood, and it would be even better once the rooms were put together.  It would make her feel so much better if they were just done with it, could put the boxes on the curb, and then have everything to themselves, so, clapping her hands in front of her, she turned away from Dree and leaned down to open the box were the miniaturized version of the kitchen table and chairs were. 

Taking them out, she put them on the floor in the arrangement she wanted them, in the space they were destined for, and waved her wand over the five pieces, watching as the tables expanded and then rested – it looked as though the kitchen was pretty much done.  Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him, “If we get the living room finished, we can cuddle on the couch until Chinese arrives..." she used as her enticing argument to get more work done, which was one of the ultimate goals anyway.

  “I really did pick a winner, free fortune cookies for life!” she teased, smiling briefly, but having to add, “Amongst other things."

"There's more where that came from," Dree said with a boyish smile on his face. "I can keep the fortune cookies coming all night." Dree was quiet a moment before blushing deeply, realising how . . . provocative that had sounded before chuckling slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. Dree could hear Adon's laughter; he recalled very well Adon's way of concluding every fortune from a fortune cookie to "In bed." Suddenly, fortunes like "You have been blessed with many friends," or "You will find happiness an success upon new horizons" took on new meanings. Adon had said that those sorts of fortunes were the ones that truly mattered anyhow.

The recollections of these conversations made Dree blush further. "Well . . ." there was no way of getting out of that one without drawing more attention to it. "You know," he concluded, shaking his head and seizing upon her moving jokes.

"Absolutely the last time!" he insisted. "You better not think of moving again already!" Dreogan said in protest, thinking -- albeit not very seriously of the two things that might mean: packing more boxes or . . . "You signed the contract; you're staying," he said, lifting his chin and folding his arms over his chest with a finality that he could not sustain on his face -- his seriousness wavered as his expression wavered into a grin and he moved in for a quick peck on her cheek. "Mover's moved in. There's no need to go anywhere," he muttered into her ear before kissing along her jawline, grinning into the kiss as she began to laugh.

He pulled away, shifting slightly on the counter top so he could look her in the eyes. He smiled, sighing slightly as she moved away, sliding to the ground and beginning to pull the kitchen chairs from their boxes. He watched as they grew in size and also slid off the counter and onto the floor. At her proposition, Dree grinned again, shaking his head. He wasn't, particularly, in a reasonable, reasoning mood. "Let's just cuddle!" he said, taking her hand and tugging her towards the front room, glancing backwards -- towards the front room -- to ensure he would not trip over any other objects.

  "There's more where that came from," Dree said with a boyish smile on his face. "I can keep the fortune cookies coming all night."

He was supremely lucky that Akiva was usually very oblivious to most things.  To her, the statement was an unusually bad attempt at flirting and instead of dissecting what he meant – something he tended to do more than she did, she shook her head.  He was cute when he got that flustered expression, and she could see the color on his cheeks, though had absolutely no idea why, instead chalked it up to the fact that he was making no sense and knew it.  She felt her suspicion was affirmed when he had to conclude with a simple “you know,” which, in all honesty, she did not know.  But, she let it rest.

There was no point in arguing over something so stupid, especially because she was fairly certain he had no idea what he was trying to say anyway, and it would just be frustrating.  No reason to make the evening worse by trying to figure out a lost cause.  There were clearly more important pursuits anyway, and she giggled as he assured her she was not going anywhere.  Reaching over, she patted his leg, giving his knee a bit of a squeeze, “You too, mister,” she tried to mimic his seriousness, falling into the same grin and laugh as he leaned in. 

She leaned in as well, giggling as his curls brushed against her cheek and his lips pressed against her skin, leaving a trail down her jaw, causing her lips to curve into an even wider grin, tilting her head back and returning kisses into between bouts of giggles.  She was in such a phenomenal mood all of a sudden and she wasn’t going to waste it. 

It appeared she was going to be productive with it either though, because as soon as she did one thing, Dree was jumping off the counter and grabbing her hand, blowing out the idea of actual work, and deciding to do something far less productive instead – cuddling.  Now, she had been the one to suggest it, yes, but she did want to get things done… chewing on her bottom lip for a moment, she was torn between tugging him back and forcing him to do work or abandoning the pursuit and just giving in. 

When he smiled at her though and started to walk, she gave in.  It was not difficult to convince her to do this, and sighing, she followed him.  “You win for now,” she cautioned him, “but we will finish this!” she motioned with her left hand at all of the boxes and things that remained packed.  The bare bones of the house were in place though, and she supposed she could be okay with that.  So, when she was directed to the couch, she plopped down after him and curled up against his side, a favorite position of hers when they cuddled together. 

Lacing their fingers together, Akiva shifted so she could lean her head against his, nose rubbing against his as she smiled, scrunching up that same nose with a bubble of laughter.  Her free hand was busy curling the hair on the back of his head around her index finger – if they were going to not work, they were going to do that right.  She initiated a kiss that was somewhere beyond peck, but somewhere below full-on necking.  “If this is your stalling technique, it will only work once... or twice...” she informed him playfully, stealing another kiss, “Next time, I won’t be so easy to convince.”

Any and all G-Modding was approved by Melissa!

Kiva was in a good mood. Which made Dreogan grin more broadly, almost foolishly, as he watched her. This was the right choice -- everything was the right choice. This was perfect. Except for the squeaky floorboards; but he'd work on that. But the house, Kiva, moving in together. . . a new life together . . .

He dragged her -- very willingly -- more insistently towards the couch. She made pretenses of protest, of course, but Dree was not to be fooled.

“You win for now,” she cautioned him, “but we will finish this!"

"Mhmm," Dree said dismissively, "I like finishing. But if you save the best for last, we might not get that far. And I don't want to miss dessert." Wrapping his arms around her middle, he lifted her momentarily off of her feet, plopping down onto the couch and bringing her with him. "There. I have you," he muttered triumphantly as he shifted them around a bit on the couch until they were lying next to each other, perfectly nested together like, well, spoons in a cabinet. But that was the most unromantic thought -- who ever came up with "spoon"-ing anyhow? He shimmied a bit closer -- some final adjustments to be fully comfortable.

“If this is your stalling technique, it will only work once... or twice...” she informed him playfully, “Next time, I won’t be so easy to convince.”

"Just takes once," he countered, finding it impossible to kiss her or see her face in this position and giving a slight frown at the realisation. "Then I'll have you hooked," he said as he ran his fingers through her hair, feeling for the first time just how tired he was. He was getting more sleep now, taking regular dosages of Dreamless Sleep, but the move and more work and, of course, ever-constant worry about Adon had taken their toll. There was a sleepiness in his limbs that made him sink back into the cushions more comfortably. He ran a hand down Akiva's arm, feeling the slight goosebumps there. "Cold?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice as he rubbed her arms lightly. The heat of the day was cooling down -- it had been unseasonably warm and it was now feeling much more like late November. Warm food would be welcome.

There wasn't time for a response -- there was a foreign, low ring that must be the doorbell, and Dreogan saw the sihlouette of someone through the Peeping Tom.  "That'll be supper," he said with a bit of a grunt as he got up, trying not to jostle Akiva too much. He pressed his lips together, wetting them, as he moved towards the door, feeling at the contents of his rather full pockets -- a couple of screws, a gum wrapper, a small box, and yes! A ten pound note. He'd paid in advance, but this was the  tip and he was feeling particularly generous. Though they'd have better gotten his order down correctly . . .

He opened the door to see Mr. Lee himself, the (actually) Vietnamese owner of the place, grinning brightly at him. "I breen it myseh-ow."

Dreogan smiled, giving a nod of the head, which was returned. Dree also nodded. It was returned again. Finally trying to both take the food and hand over the money at the same time, both men nearly lost the order on Dreogan's very new hardwood floor, but finally, The food was in stable hands. "Than you, Mr. Lee," he said, wondering if the man had gotten the joke; he was smiling so broadly, it was hard to tell. Mr. Lee was very clever and they'd actually had more than a few conversations, the two of them. But now was not the time. He was hungry, and he wanted his fortune cookies.

"I did everything just perfect," Mr. Lee insisted, and Dree felt himself blushing. "You live further now. But I will not charge more."

"It smells great!" Dree said, a slightly bubble of laughter coming up, almost nervously. "Thank you!" Mr. Lee nodded once more with an air of decisiveness and Dree shut the door, more than ready. He moved to the couch, where Kiva still sat, pulling open the bags and grinning at the abundance of fortune cookies inside. An entire plastic bag dedicated to them. Mr. Lee had outdone himself. He sat down beside her, fidgeting with the napkins a bit until all was arrayed as neatly and elegantly as take-out could.

"Well," he said, fingers fumbling a bit at the fortune cookies, "I'd try to find the china but," he shrugged. It was in a box somewhere. He had not the foggiest. And she'd tease him; as she always did. "Best for first, of course. . ." he pulled a cookie open, read the inscription, then said, "Remember this date. Things will change." He gave a slight smile before muttering, "Divination at its best. . ." He looked over to Akiva and handing her one. "What's yours say?"

Of course, Dreogan knew exactly what hers would say. Because he'd asked Mr. Lee to put the fortune in there. But it wasn't a fortune so much . . . as a question. Mr. Lee seemed to have gone overboard with his enthusiasm, providing more than enough cookies for the message to come across, determined to make, for the first time, his cuisine the driving factor behind his client's happiness.

And though Dreogan knew the question, he could not help but feel the knots in his stomach as he waited for her to open it.

 “I’m fairly sure you already have me hooked,” she teased, trying to peer over her shoulder at him, of course, it was very difficult in the position they were arranged in, but she did not mind.  She reached behind her to give him a soft pat, though it was not the most romantic movement, she would probably have to be a gymnast to do much more than enjoy the feeling of his chest rising and falling against her back and his hand on her side and then coursing up through her hair. 

Closing her eyes as Dree ran his fingers through her hair, Akiva sighed.  She could lie like this for ages – even with the boxes and everything around them, she could handle not being organized just to have a few moments of relaxation without having to worry about much of anything.  She knew he was a complete stress case, and when he could just a moment and grin and laugh and really enjoy the moment, she leaned into him, giggling softly as the strands of hair fell back against her neck and back, causing goosebumps to travel up and down her arms.

It was that feeling you got when you weren’t exactly chilly, but something so… indescribable happened – like an electric shock that you didn’t want to hit the other person for, and she laughed for no particular reason.  Apparently this sudden eruption of happy bumps on her skin was question inspiring and Dree asked if she was cold, which was not the case at all – just exceptionally happy, but she didn’t get to say so.  In fact, she was interrupted by the buzz of their new doorbell, something she expected – but so soon? He kissed her before he moved all the way to the door and Akiva could not help but grin at him, watching him go with a smile that actually made her cheeks hurt. 

She shifted on the couch, and propped her head up to watch him go to the door for a moment, grinning all the while.  For once, she wished the take-out people wouldn’t get there with such expediency!  Finally pushing herself up, she didn’t really move from the couch, but arranged herself in a far more dignified manner for when the door was open – just in case, and continued to beam as Dree received the food – apparently from Mr. Lee, whom Dree knew?  Odd!  Though, she supposed she should not be surprised, if he had bad orders from there before (though it begged to question why they kept going back… even if the food was really good…)

Pursing her lips momentarily, she supposed that question was far less important – and she listened as the two men exchanged words, apparently a reassurance that everything was done right – she could not help but blush, hoping that it was not the git comment that had inspired that reassurance, and she cleared her throat, fixing her hair just a tad, a nervous habit, she supposed.

When the door was finally shut and the transaction complete, she laughed at his tongue-in-cheek use of the misspelled phrase on the bag and gave him a playful look with a hint of pretend chastising in her voice, “That wasn’t very nice,” she informed him, though she could not help but smile – especially when she looked at the bag with the statement so boldly printed in those red letters, she shook her head and laughed again.  It felt good to be in such a pleasant mood. 

Akiva sniffed the air, full of the smell of Chinese food and she sighed happily realizing how hungry she really was!  She could not wait for the spread of food, which she pulled the coffee table forward to accommodate.  She would have went to get plates, but it was sort of the thing – just to eat out of the containers and close them up to put away for later.  Why mess up dishes when they could just do this?  It meant less work.  Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she rubbed his back sympathetically.  “No need,” she assured him, “less work!” she chirped in explanation, watching as he started to spread everything out. 

Of course, rather than reaching for a plastic spoon, he reached for his favorite part – the fortune cookies.  Raising her eyebrows, she gave him a look that said something like ‘are you serious?’ before just letting it go with a bit of a grin.  “You men,” she teased, “Always wanting to skip to dessert first.”  She kissed his cheek and leaned her chin on his shoulder to read the fortune, giggling softly. 

“Things will change,” she repeated, “how delightfully vague,” she wrinkled her nose and leaned in for a quick kiss as she took the fortune from his hands.  “Let’s see…” she fumbled with the wrapper, almost dropping it for a moment, but recovered swiftly, and took the golden-brown cookie out of the plastic wrap and cracked it down the center.  The side she saw first, was, as usual, the blank one, and she flipped it over, almost dropping the tiny slip from her hands. 

Emblazoned across the tiny paper, looking just like an everyday fortune cookie, but so much more than that were the words, “Will you marry me?”  Her breath hitched in her throat and she looked at the slip of paper for several moments. She reread it like five times, just making sure that it actually said what she thought it said and looking at Dree – well, he had certainly played her, asking for the extra fortune cookies – starting with that, she almost fell into a teenage habit of yelling ‘shut up’ when something she could not believe happened. 

Instead, she dropped the paper and practically jumped on him, latching her arms around his neck as those weird, silent, happy tears leaked from the ducts and down her cheeks.  “Dree!” she kissed him, “absolutely,” another kiss, “of course,” another, before stopping and looking at him, practically straddling his lap, eyes wide with the tears having subsided a bit with realization and sudden panic, “that was intentional, right?”

She was taking a long time to read that paper.

Dreogan felt a surge of panic. It was too soon. They'd talked about plans -- into the far future; years, even. They'd indirectly talked about children (but never "our children"). They . . . well, he was nuts about her. But it was too soon. It hadn't been direct enough. Established. They were still moving, in a state of flux.

This was a mistake. He shouldn't have --

She dropped the paper and Dreogan's eyes widened. He swallowed and wet his lips. Waiting.

It didn't come. What did was a definite and absolute, an established yes. Yes! "Absolutely." "Of course!" YES! Dreogan grinned and let out a nervouse laugh he'd been keeping in, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a brief kiss.

"That was intentional, right?"

Dreogan's expression softened from ecstasy to sympathetic reassurance. "Kiv, I've never meant anything more in my life." He wiped her tears away with his thumb, hoping it was gentle enough -- rock climbing tended to give one callouses -- before smiling and lifting her chin for another kiss.

"I love you so, so much," he whispered. "I just . . . want this to be forever. You make me so happy. I --" he found it harder to breathe and to speak his lines than before, as he considered. They'd be married. She'd wear white, and then they'd have children. And she'd teach them -- such a wonderful, loving mother. And they would work together, as they had already begun to -- on their life plans and difficulties. She was his. He had for some time already been totally and completely hers, but now -- now she was his and he could tell the world that. And they could start their own world together.

"I love you; I'm so happy," he managed, somewhat dazely as he reached into his pocket. "But . . . it just . . ." he pulled out a carved, wooden box, "I'm afraid this requires unpacking one more box. . ." he said, handing it to her, hoping she would be pleased with the ring. He'd had to have it resized. His great-grandmother had been a size 4.5. When Dreogan had helped her move, he'd been sure to box up her jewelry so that he might snag a ring of hers -- hopefully one she had not missed -- in order to get her size. As a size six, the intricate design was not on the bottom of the ring any longer, where the metal had been melted away, but the design was still very fine, very vintage, very beautiful -- it made Dreogan think of her. It made her a part of his history; a part of his family, and Dree was glad that his father had left it to him.

He began to explain: "It was my great-grandmother's. Her brother owned a jewelry store, when they lived in Egypt, and he designed it for her in the 1910's." There had been a Jewish community there at that time; the Eleors had thrived there until World War II, when they were expelled or imprisoned and interrogated. As prominent and wealthy leaders of the community, the Eleors had led the family and many others out, taking very little with them. Including this ring. "It's a bit worn," he felt himself saying -- derailing from his speech self-consciously, trying to stop, "but the stone is of a good quality" -- Akiva would not be the sort to care about that. Why was he saying this? Why was he panicking? -- "It's . . . seen a lot. . . It. . ." he gave a sheepish smile, realising he needed to stop. "It means a lot. I hope . . ." He lowered his eyes to the box, embarrassed that his voice was trembling. "Do you like it?"

Leaning her face into his hands, Kiv could not help but continue to smile at him.  His slightly rough thumbs brushed against her cheek – she loved that his hands weren’t completely soft, it showed that he did something slightly out of what one would expect.  His callouses were just one of the many quirks that kept her constantly intrigued and enamored with him.   Returning the kiss, Kiva continued to cry, despite herself.

They weren’t like body rocking sobs, just enough to periodically spill over out of her ducts, causing her to have to wipe her cheeks only once every minute or so, although when he started to speak, Akiva’s tears came with slightly more frequency.  She could hear what sounded like a lump in his throat and she laughed nervously, trying to hold it together too.  It was very likely she would begin to cry without restraint the second she saw a tear on his face, but he seemed to be doing a fairly alright job of keeping the dam from breaking, despite the clearly emotional sentiments passing between them. 

It was very real, she kept reminding herself, and a bubble of happy laughter came up from her chest and she kissed him again, leaning her nose against his and settling her hands on his.  “I couldn’t…” she laughed again, trying to just avoid those horrible moments where she felt like she was going to explosively cry, “I couldn’t imagine spending forever with anyone else,” she finally got out, letting the thought sink in fully, almost taking her breath away. 

This time, with Dree, she felt like she could really imagine forever with him.  She fast forwarded, envisioning the blurry, completely unplanned version of their wedding, and then bringing more life into the house that was already brimming with possibilities.  Akiva couldn’t help imagining a group of rag-tag, curly, dark-haired children with big, dark eyes, Dree being a complete pushover, like he usually was, when it came to those he loved.  She was overcome by the desire to kiss him again, which she allowed herself to do, murmuring, “I love you so much,” against his lips. 

Sitting back, Akiva watched curiously as he dug in his pocket and then produced an intricate wooden box, beautiful and almost delicate looking, not like any ring box she had ever seen.  She could almost see how old it was, the history just radiating off of the box, and he handed it to her, letting her open it.  She ran her fingertips over the fine wood, examining how beautiful it was before lifting the small latch to reveal a ring that made the breath just completely leave her lungs. 

Still holding the box in her right hand, she lifted the left to her mouth, covering up the shocked expression on her face.  “Oh Dree…” she whispered, barely audible with her soft, pale hand covering her mouth.  It was absolutely beautiful, striking, really, and the design looked so… complicated, so delicate – she had never expected anything like this, not in a million years, especially when he indicated it was a family heirloom.  That made it all the more special, that it was allowed to go to her, to someone who would join that lineage of Eleor history.  She was so taken with the whole thing, his explanation – which, after the indication that it belonged to his great grandmother, meant nothing to her, she didn’t enter this relationship with any idea that she would get something like this, something so meaningful and beautiful.

The way his voice wavered and he rambled on, as it was his habit when he was nervous, just made Akiva wrinkle her nose in delight.  He was so eager to please, to make everyone else happy, when he told her that she made him happy, it felt like she was doing something exceptionally special for him.  Almost as special as what he was doing for her, with this ring, and everything he had done.  It was probably the most important thing she had ever been given, outside of the Star of David diamond necklace her parents got her for her Bat Mitzvah.  His question about liking it, well, she looked at him, but found he was looking down, shocked that he would think it were possible she wouldn’t. 

As far as she was concerned, he could have given her a paperclip bent around in a circle and it would have still made her cry.  “I love it, Dree – it’s so beautiful,” she smiled at him, her hands shaking as she took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her ring finger, surprised it was a perfect fit and unable to tear her eyes from it.  “It’s incredible,” she breathed again, reaching down to entwine their hands together, making sure to keep her hand on top, the ring glittering as the sun streamed through the front window.  “You’re incredible, too,” she added, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze with a little giggle. 

Playing with the curls on the back of his head with her right hand, Akiva couldn’t even place how happy she was.  “You really did this all right under my nose,” she giggled.  “You’re too smart for me sometimes,” she teased, playfully kissing him again, figuring she would be doing a lot of that for the rest of her life.