&hearts Theory's Monthiversary! &hearts
So this is a LONG time in the making. Their anniversary was all the way back on May 22 (exactly two weeks ago!!), but for various reasons the fic is just now completed. (Maybe because of a rather literal interpretation of the phrase "Take it slow." That's not the real reason, but ya know.)
Mary takes Ted on a picnic for their one-month anniversary, and it is angsty.
No, just kidding. It's the fluffiest thing you've ever read in your LIFE.
Mary is fabulous fluff genius roland44
Ted is the stupefied procrastinator (me).
Mary watches Ted with a smile as he swiftly bounds down the steps of the brownstone to her car and she leans over to unlock the passenger door. She's been making mental checklists in her head to make sure she has everything they'll need for their picnic lunch. Rye bread- check. Red wine- check. Lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes - check. Feta-stuffed olives, blanket, swiss cheese, turkey ham, napkins - check check check check!!
Ted slides into the passenger seat of Mary's car, leaning over the center console to kiss her hello. "Happy late anniversary," he says softly against her mouth before pulling away to fasten his seatbelt. He catches a whiff of feta-stuffed olives and he turns to see the basket nestled in the backseat. "Aww, you're taking me on a picnic?" He grins at her. He loves it when she spontaneously plans for the two of them. And an anniversary picnic on a day as beautiful as this one... he couldn't imagine anything more perfect.
He looks so hot in a bright red t-shirt and faded blue jeans that she just wants to push his seat back and straddle him right then and there and kiss him for hours...
"Yup, picnic! That's the plan! It's so great I finally got a day off after all this overtime I've been putting in at the office..."
She swallows hard, forces herself to look down at the gear stick and press down on the clutch, biting her lip as she pulls the car out into the traffic and drives them in the direction of Central Park.
"I've got a surprise for you, but you have to wait for it..." She grins, slipping on her sunglasses as they pull up at a red light. It's sunny and humid and she's already feeling the heat in her thin cotton shirt and linen shorts.
She's checking him out while they're sitting at the red light, sneaking sidelong glances at him from behind her sunglasses, and Ted just chuckles to himself. "Mer, my eyes are up /here/," he teases, and she turns as red as the stoplight.
"You have a surprise for me? What is it??" He bounces up and down in his seat a bit, not caring that he's acting like a little kid. It's been so long since he's had a genuine surprise, one that didn't make him want to run off to Aruba, that he can't contain his excitement. He's just had a hellish week working at his failing architecture firm; seeing Mary has made all that go away.
Mary just smiles at his enthusiasm as they pull into a space next to Central Park.
"God, I shouldn't have told you, should I?" she replies, thinking of a way to keep him from convincing her to give him his present right away. "Hmm, come to think of it, you can't just get something for nothing, Mosby. You get your present after you complete a challenge, which I will tell you all about after we've set up on the grass. Deal?"
She pulls the parking break and unbuckles her seatbelt, looking over at him for confirmation.
"Deal", he says, jumping out to grab the picnic basket from the back. Mary shoulders her handbag and drapes the blanket over one arm. As she locks the car she feels him brush up behind her, and he locks his fingers gently with hers.
He has to let go of her hand once they get to the spot where they lay out the blanket. Together they smooth out the wrinkles in the red-and-white checkered cloth and set out their picnic in the shade of an oak tree. Ted opens the basket and pulls out the food, pouring them each a glass of wine while Mary lays out the makings for their sandwiches.
"A toast," he says, handing her her glass while raising his own. "To..." Is it too cheesy to say "to us"? "To anniversaries," he says, clinking his glass with hers. "May they never again be tainted by fake swine flu outbreaks." She smiles as she takes a sip of her wine, eyeing him over the rim as she does so.
"All right, Bartlett," he says as he sets down his glass and reaches for the bread and the ham. "What's this challenge you have for me?"
"Well," she blushes, not really sure how to say this, "your challenge is...within the next half-hour...you have to give me one kiss for every day we've been together so far." She puts down her glass and leans in towards him, her lips hovering close to his ear.
"But, you can only kiss me anywhere except my lips..."
Almost automatically, his mathematical brain goes into overdrive. Let's see, we got together on the 18th, there are thirty days in April, plus we're celebrating our anniversary four days late -- And then the math goes right out of his mind as he starts to think of all the places he can kiss her that won't scandalize the young parents picnicking not too far away from where they sit on their blanket.
He cocks an eyebrow at her. "I accept your challenge, milady," he says in a low voice, adopting a mock-serious tone that makes her giggle. He takes her hand and places a gentle kiss just below her knuckles, keeping eye contact with her.
One down, thirty-three to go.
His warm eyes devour her as he looks up at her, the intensity of his gaze a vivid contrast to the softness of his lips against her hand. She can't believe the way her tummy is instantly filled with a million butterflies, and she starts to regret having given him this challenge if it means he won't be kissing her on the mouth for another thirty minutes. But he's surprised her in the simplest, most gentlemanly of ways, and she's definitely looking forward to receiving the rest of the kisses.
"You are truly a gentleman and a scholar, Theodore Mosby, and I love you for it.."
She plants a chaste kiss on his brow before turning to the basket to fix herself a sandwich.
Her kiss lands on his forehead, feather-light, and it makes him feel warm all over. He wishes he hadn't just promised not to kiss her on the lips.
He scoots closer to her, fingers brushing against hers as he gets lettuce and tomato for his sandwich. He wants to grab her hand and trail the rest of the kisses up and down her arms, one kiss right after the other, to win this challenge as soon as possible so he can find out what surprise he has in store for him.
And glancing at Mary, he can see that she wants him to do the same, to hurry up and kiss her already.
But then that little voice whispers in his ear, "Take it slow, Mosby, take it slow..."
He grins and just takes a bite of his sandwich, meeting her eyes with a bit of a smirk.
She can't help but blush and look away when he looks at her with that boyish smirk of his. She realizes he's going to take his time, play it cool, and suddenly it's like he's taken his disadvantage and turned the game against her.
Hot.
She loves surprises, she loves the unexpected. She just doesn't know how long she'll be able to hold out against him.
She takes a large bite out of her sandwich, smiling as she watches a group of children frolicking on the grass in the distance.
"You know something Ted?" she finally says, taking a rather large sip of her wine. "I...I can't think of anybody else I'd want to be with, right here, right at this moment..."
She puts down her sandwich and moves close to his side, resting her head against the crook of his neck.
He leans his head down on top of hers and snakes an arm around her waist. "Neither can I," he murmurs, mouth close to her ear.
She's so close to him that the distinct scent of her blonde hair is filling his nostrils, enveloping him in a cocoon of safety and warmth. He reaches for her hand and laces his fingers with hers, raising them up to place a kiss on each one of her fingertips, nuzzling her hand with his nose.
She feels goosebumps running down her arm despite the midday heat as his lips ghost over her fingers and her mind blanks out. Every bit of tension in her body slips away and she lightly closes her eyelids. It's like she's caught in a shimmering bubble of warmth and love and Ted, and the light buzz from the wine settles slowly over her.
She doesn't want this feeling to end. She doesn't intend to keep count of the kisses, nor count the passing of the minutes.
He pulls her hand away from his lips, smiling at how much she seems to enjoy even the simplest romantic gesture. Most girls didn't appreciate the little things that. They grew bored with the flourishes and trappings of boyfriend-dom after a couple weeks or so. They found him cliched, or too sappy. But just over a month into their relationship, and Mary was still swooning over him.
He loves that about her. He loves that she's probably even a bigger sap than he is.
"You still hungry?" he asks her, getting out the jar of olives. Holding the jar, he remembers the olive theory, Lily and Marshall, that failed first night with Robin.
Mary likes olives just as much as he does. Maybe that blows the olive theory to hell.
Mary sits up, turning to face Ted as he fishes out a green olive from the jar with a fork and holds it up to her. The fresh, pungent juices of the olive explode in her mouth, complemented by the softness and subtle flavor of the feta at its heart.
As she closes her eyes and savors the exotic but simple combination of tastes, he slides up behind her and kisses her hair softly a few times, pushing it delicately off her neck and over one shoulder, his lips finding their way down her spine till the low dip of the boat-neck of her peasant top.
She giggles, amused at how he's keeping out of view by kissing the back of her neck.
He's already starting to lose count of how many more times he has to kiss her, because the number suddenly doesn't matter much to him anymore. He just wants to keep kissing her.
From behind her, he wraps his arms around her waist. He feels her lean against him as he tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, getting close enough to whisper into her ear, "You look beautiful today, Mary." He kisses that sensitive spot below her ear as she sighs happily.
"So," he says in between kisses, "how much" -- kiss -- "longer" -- kiss -- "until I can get" -- kiss -- "my surprise?" Kiss.
All she can manage is a soft purr of contentment.
"Mmm, I don't know..."
He's kissing her shoulder, his lips slightly parted and she feels his teeth graze lightly against her skin.
"...not really counting..."
He breaks, gently rubs his nose against the nape of her neck and proceeds to focus his attention on her other shoulder.
"...maybe ten more..."
She rests her hands over his arms as he continues to languidly kiss her shoulder, and cracks open an eyelid in the direction of the family that's picnicking nearby. The kids chase their golden retriever to the far side of the park and their mom is lying stretched out on the blanket, intently reading her novel and facing away from them. The afternoon sun is sharp, and everyone else seems to have packed up and headed toward the shaded picnic benches in the distance.
Mary gently loosens his hold on her waist and swings around to face him, loping her long arms loosely around his shoulders, her fingers gently running through the short, dark hairs at the base of his neck, her eyes trailing over every angle in his jaw and cheekbones, the smooth planes of his face, the curve of his mouth and the dimple in his chin.
She leans in and kisses him just under his chin, tasting the saltiness of his skin and feeling the light scrape of stubble against her cheek. His hands reach up to her face when she breaks away and his brown eyes take her in.
"Six more," she whispers, closing her eyes and tilting her face up to his.
She feels the sunlight blotted out for a moment from behind her eyelids as his lips press against her temple, at the corner of her eye.
"Six," he whispers, somewhere close to her skin.
He runs a distracting thumb down her cheekbone as he places an open-mouthed kiss just underneath her jaw where she least expects it.
"Five," he breathes against her neck, his hand slipping up the curve of her waist and behind her back just as his thumb runs lightly over the swell of her breast and her breath catches in her chest.
"Four," just below her collarbone, and he lingers at her neck for a while, breathing in the citrus scent of her perfume.
His nose trails ticklishly along her skin, up to her ear. He captures her earlobe in his lips, mumbling "fo- three...mmm..."
She sucks in a breath through her teeth, sliding her arms tighter around his shoulders and grinning at how he's barely even able to keep count.
He breaks away to look deep into her eyes, smiling, and presses his forehead against hers, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. Their lips are close, so close, but she can't - not yet...
He tenderly kisses the tip of her nose.
"Twoo..." he coos, happy to be so close to his prize.
She can't take the slow burn anymore.
"And one," she says, impatiently capturing his lips in hers and moaning in frustration and longing as she presses closer to him. Damn, he feels so good.
The feel of her lips on his after that torturous slow buildup is so amazing that he wants to hold onto it forever. God, she’s incredible.
When they finally break apart, she leans over to her handbag and pulls it closer, and Ted cocks an eyebrow in anticipation, his rugged features breaking out into a boyish smile.
"You remember," she starts to say as she digs into her bag, "that day you said you couldn't play that Doctor Dog cover of your favorite Architecture in Helsinki song because of some stupid iTunes authorization error? Well, look what I found..."
She grins as she pulls out a CD from the inner compartment of her bag and holds it out to him.
He beams as he takes the CD from her. “No way!” he laughs, flipping it over to glance at the back. He looks into her gorgeous eyes. “This is awesome,” he says, grinning at her.
She just smiles back at him, blushing slightly. “I’m glad you like it,” she says as he reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, brushing his thumb against the side of her face.
“I love it,” he says softly, leaning forward to capture her lips in another kiss.
He sets the CD on the blanket so he can run his free hand along the curves of her body, wrapping it around her waist so he can pull her even closer. Her hands grip the back of his head tightly, drawing him closer, closer. All that exists in this moment is her, her hands, her lips, her taste... everything else fades away.
Things are easy with her. That’s what he likes best. He doesn’t have to worry about how she feels about him, or worry about them drifting apart. She’s his support, his parachute, his love, his Mary.
She’s the best present he’s ever gotten.
Mary takes Ted on a picnic for their one-month anniversary, and it is angsty.
No, just kidding. It's the fluffiest thing you've ever read in your LIFE.
Mary is fabulous fluff genius roland44
Ted is the stupefied procrastinator (me).
Mary watches Ted with a smile as he swiftly bounds down the steps of the brownstone to her car and she leans over to unlock the passenger door. She's been making mental checklists in her head to make sure she has everything they'll need for their picnic lunch. Rye bread- check. Red wine- check. Lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes - check. Feta-stuffed olives, blanket, swiss cheese, turkey ham, napkins - check check check check!!
Ted slides into the passenger seat of Mary's car, leaning over the center console to kiss her hello. "Happy late anniversary," he says softly against her mouth before pulling away to fasten his seatbelt. He catches a whiff of feta-stuffed olives and he turns to see the basket nestled in the backseat. "Aww, you're taking me on a picnic?" He grins at her. He loves it when she spontaneously plans for the two of them. And an anniversary picnic on a day as beautiful as this one... he couldn't imagine anything more perfect.
He looks so hot in a bright red t-shirt and faded blue jeans that she just wants to push his seat back and straddle him right then and there and kiss him for hours...
"Yup, picnic! That's the plan! It's so great I finally got a day off after all this overtime I've been putting in at the office..."
She swallows hard, forces herself to look down at the gear stick and press down on the clutch, biting her lip as she pulls the car out into the traffic and drives them in the direction of Central Park.
"I've got a surprise for you, but you have to wait for it..." She grins, slipping on her sunglasses as they pull up at a red light. It's sunny and humid and she's already feeling the heat in her thin cotton shirt and linen shorts.
She's checking him out while they're sitting at the red light, sneaking sidelong glances at him from behind her sunglasses, and Ted just chuckles to himself. "Mer, my eyes are up /here/," he teases, and she turns as red as the stoplight.
"You have a surprise for me? What is it??" He bounces up and down in his seat a bit, not caring that he's acting like a little kid. It's been so long since he's had a genuine surprise, one that didn't make him want to run off to Aruba, that he can't contain his excitement. He's just had a hellish week working at his failing architecture firm; seeing Mary has made all that go away.
Mary just smiles at his enthusiasm as they pull into a space next to Central Park.
"God, I shouldn't have told you, should I?" she replies, thinking of a way to keep him from convincing her to give him his present right away. "Hmm, come to think of it, you can't just get something for nothing, Mosby. You get your present after you complete a challenge, which I will tell you all about after we've set up on the grass. Deal?"
She pulls the parking break and unbuckles her seatbelt, looking over at him for confirmation.
"Deal", he says, jumping out to grab the picnic basket from the back. Mary shoulders her handbag and drapes the blanket over one arm. As she locks the car she feels him brush up behind her, and he locks his fingers gently with hers.
He has to let go of her hand once they get to the spot where they lay out the blanket. Together they smooth out the wrinkles in the red-and-white checkered cloth and set out their picnic in the shade of an oak tree. Ted opens the basket and pulls out the food, pouring them each a glass of wine while Mary lays out the makings for their sandwiches.
"A toast," he says, handing her her glass while raising his own. "To..." Is it too cheesy to say "to us"? "To anniversaries," he says, clinking his glass with hers. "May they never again be tainted by fake swine flu outbreaks." She smiles as she takes a sip of her wine, eyeing him over the rim as she does so.
"All right, Bartlett," he says as he sets down his glass and reaches for the bread and the ham. "What's this challenge you have for me?"
"Well," she blushes, not really sure how to say this, "your challenge is...within the next half-hour...you have to give me one kiss for every day we've been together so far." She puts down her glass and leans in towards him, her lips hovering close to his ear.
"But, you can only kiss me anywhere except my lips..."
Almost automatically, his mathematical brain goes into overdrive. Let's see, we got together on the 18th, there are thirty days in April, plus we're celebrating our anniversary four days late -- And then the math goes right out of his mind as he starts to think of all the places he can kiss her that won't scandalize the young parents picnicking not too far away from where they sit on their blanket.
He cocks an eyebrow at her. "I accept your challenge, milady," he says in a low voice, adopting a mock-serious tone that makes her giggle. He takes her hand and places a gentle kiss just below her knuckles, keeping eye contact with her.
One down, thirty-three to go.
His warm eyes devour her as he looks up at her, the intensity of his gaze a vivid contrast to the softness of his lips against her hand. She can't believe the way her tummy is instantly filled with a million butterflies, and she starts to regret having given him this challenge if it means he won't be kissing her on the mouth for another thirty minutes. But he's surprised her in the simplest, most gentlemanly of ways, and she's definitely looking forward to receiving the rest of the kisses.
"You are truly a gentleman and a scholar, Theodore Mosby, and I love you for it.."
She plants a chaste kiss on his brow before turning to the basket to fix herself a sandwich.
Her kiss lands on his forehead, feather-light, and it makes him feel warm all over. He wishes he hadn't just promised not to kiss her on the lips.
He scoots closer to her, fingers brushing against hers as he gets lettuce and tomato for his sandwich. He wants to grab her hand and trail the rest of the kisses up and down her arms, one kiss right after the other, to win this challenge as soon as possible so he can find out what surprise he has in store for him.
And glancing at Mary, he can see that she wants him to do the same, to hurry up and kiss her already.
But then that little voice whispers in his ear, "Take it slow, Mosby, take it slow..."
He grins and just takes a bite of his sandwich, meeting her eyes with a bit of a smirk.
She can't help but blush and look away when he looks at her with that boyish smirk of his. She realizes he's going to take his time, play it cool, and suddenly it's like he's taken his disadvantage and turned the game against her.
Hot.
She loves surprises, she loves the unexpected. She just doesn't know how long she'll be able to hold out against him.
She takes a large bite out of her sandwich, smiling as she watches a group of children frolicking on the grass in the distance.
"You know something Ted?" she finally says, taking a rather large sip of her wine. "I...I can't think of anybody else I'd want to be with, right here, right at this moment..."
She puts down her sandwich and moves close to his side, resting her head against the crook of his neck.
He leans his head down on top of hers and snakes an arm around her waist. "Neither can I," he murmurs, mouth close to her ear.
She's so close to him that the distinct scent of her blonde hair is filling his nostrils, enveloping him in a cocoon of safety and warmth. He reaches for her hand and laces his fingers with hers, raising them up to place a kiss on each one of her fingertips, nuzzling her hand with his nose.
She feels goosebumps running down her arm despite the midday heat as his lips ghost over her fingers and her mind blanks out. Every bit of tension in her body slips away and she lightly closes her eyelids. It's like she's caught in a shimmering bubble of warmth and love and Ted, and the light buzz from the wine settles slowly over her.
She doesn't want this feeling to end. She doesn't intend to keep count of the kisses, nor count the passing of the minutes.
He pulls her hand away from his lips, smiling at how much she seems to enjoy even the simplest romantic gesture. Most girls didn't appreciate the little things that. They grew bored with the flourishes and trappings of boyfriend-dom after a couple weeks or so. They found him cliched, or too sappy. But just over a month into their relationship, and Mary was still swooning over him.
He loves that about her. He loves that she's probably even a bigger sap than he is.
"You still hungry?" he asks her, getting out the jar of olives. Holding the jar, he remembers the olive theory, Lily and Marshall, that failed first night with Robin.
Mary likes olives just as much as he does. Maybe that blows the olive theory to hell.
Mary sits up, turning to face Ted as he fishes out a green olive from the jar with a fork and holds it up to her. The fresh, pungent juices of the olive explode in her mouth, complemented by the softness and subtle flavor of the feta at its heart.
As she closes her eyes and savors the exotic but simple combination of tastes, he slides up behind her and kisses her hair softly a few times, pushing it delicately off her neck and over one shoulder, his lips finding their way down her spine till the low dip of the boat-neck of her peasant top.
She giggles, amused at how he's keeping out of view by kissing the back of her neck.
He's already starting to lose count of how many more times he has to kiss her, because the number suddenly doesn't matter much to him anymore. He just wants to keep kissing her.
From behind her, he wraps his arms around her waist. He feels her lean against him as he tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, getting close enough to whisper into her ear, "You look beautiful today, Mary." He kisses that sensitive spot below her ear as she sighs happily.
"So," he says in between kisses, "how much" -- kiss -- "longer" -- kiss -- "until I can get" -- kiss -- "my surprise?" Kiss.
All she can manage is a soft purr of contentment.
"Mmm, I don't know..."
He's kissing her shoulder, his lips slightly parted and she feels his teeth graze lightly against her skin.
"...not really counting..."
He breaks, gently rubs his nose against the nape of her neck and proceeds to focus his attention on her other shoulder.
"...maybe ten more..."
She rests her hands over his arms as he continues to languidly kiss her shoulder, and cracks open an eyelid in the direction of the family that's picnicking nearby. The kids chase their golden retriever to the far side of the park and their mom is lying stretched out on the blanket, intently reading her novel and facing away from them. The afternoon sun is sharp, and everyone else seems to have packed up and headed toward the shaded picnic benches in the distance.
Mary gently loosens his hold on her waist and swings around to face him, loping her long arms loosely around his shoulders, her fingers gently running through the short, dark hairs at the base of his neck, her eyes trailing over every angle in his jaw and cheekbones, the smooth planes of his face, the curve of his mouth and the dimple in his chin.
She leans in and kisses him just under his chin, tasting the saltiness of his skin and feeling the light scrape of stubble against her cheek. His hands reach up to her face when she breaks away and his brown eyes take her in.
"Six more," she whispers, closing her eyes and tilting her face up to his.
She feels the sunlight blotted out for a moment from behind her eyelids as his lips press against her temple, at the corner of her eye.
"Six," he whispers, somewhere close to her skin.
He runs a distracting thumb down her cheekbone as he places an open-mouthed kiss just underneath her jaw where she least expects it.
"Five," he breathes against her neck, his hand slipping up the curve of her waist and behind her back just as his thumb runs lightly over the swell of her breast and her breath catches in her chest.
"Four," just below her collarbone, and he lingers at her neck for a while, breathing in the citrus scent of her perfume.
His nose trails ticklishly along her skin, up to her ear. He captures her earlobe in his lips, mumbling "fo- three...mmm..."
She sucks in a breath through her teeth, sliding her arms tighter around his shoulders and grinning at how he's barely even able to keep count.
He breaks away to look deep into her eyes, smiling, and presses his forehead against hers, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers. Their lips are close, so close, but she can't - not yet...
He tenderly kisses the tip of her nose.
"Twoo..." he coos, happy to be so close to his prize.
She can't take the slow burn anymore.
"And one," she says, impatiently capturing his lips in hers and moaning in frustration and longing as she presses closer to him. Damn, he feels so good.
The feel of her lips on his after that torturous slow buildup is so amazing that he wants to hold onto it forever. God, she’s incredible.
When they finally break apart, she leans over to her handbag and pulls it closer, and Ted cocks an eyebrow in anticipation, his rugged features breaking out into a boyish smile.
"You remember," she starts to say as she digs into her bag, "that day you said you couldn't play that Doctor Dog cover of your favorite Architecture in Helsinki song because of some stupid iTunes authorization error? Well, look what I found..."
She grins as she pulls out a CD from the inner compartment of her bag and holds it out to him.
He beams as he takes the CD from her. “No way!” he laughs, flipping it over to glance at the back. He looks into her gorgeous eyes. “This is awesome,” he says, grinning at her.
She just smiles back at him, blushing slightly. “I’m glad you like it,” she says as he reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, brushing his thumb against the side of her face.
“I love it,” he says softly, leaning forward to capture her lips in another kiss.
He sets the CD on the blanket so he can run his free hand along the curves of her body, wrapping it around her waist so he can pull her even closer. Her hands grip the back of his head tightly, drawing him closer, closer. All that exists in this moment is her, her hands, her lips, her taste... everything else fades away.
Things are easy with her. That’s what he likes best. He doesn’t have to worry about how she feels about him, or worry about them drifting apart. She’s his support, his parachute, his love, his Mary.
She’s the best present he’s ever gotten.