Work Text:
The fire blazed in the hearth, driving back the cold bite of the oncoming Winter season. A loud beeping came from the kitchen and the woman placing a new log into the flames looked up, nearly bumping her head against the bricks. She ducked out of the fireplace and ran into the kitchen, sliding across the tile in her socks. The cookies weren’t too burnt, thank Yoba, so she set them nicely on a cooling rack and put the tray in the sink.
The front door opened and shut; a big smile spread across her face at the sound. She tipped her head into the doorway and saw her husband taking his coat off, shoes already removed and beside her own. She glanced back at the cookies before heading into the living room, tiptoeing so that she could surprise the man. She slipped her arms around his head and nudged her hands under his glasses, covering his eyes.
“Guess who?” She removed her hands and ran them along his shoulders.
“I hope it’s my wife, because this’ll get really awkward if it isn’t.” He turned around and held a bouquet of flowers in his hands. She blushed lightly as she reached out and grabbed them, her fingers grazing his. “Happy Anniversary, dear.” He leaned down and softly kissed her nose, earning a small giggle from the farmer.
“Happy Anniversary! I made some cookies, I hope you like them. I also got some pizza for dinner.”
He grinned and chuckled warmly. “Ah yes, the most romantic meal of them all, pizza. Sounds lovely. I still can’t believe that’s what we chose as our first dinner.”
“We’re dorks, Harvey, it’s just what we do.”
He laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. He rested his chin against her head and she sighed happily.
“How was work?”
“Hm?”
“Work. How’d your day go, Doc?” She tapped her chin against his chest, the steady pattering of his heart quickening fractionally at the gesture. He smiled and cupped her face.
“Boring. Nobody came in. I mean, thank goodness everyone is alright, but still. Boring.”
She nodded, feigning a serious face before giggling, and stepped back, holding onto his hands.
“You know what isn’t boring? Pizza and cookies.”
“Let me get changed real quick, and then I’ll be right in.”
“Alright! Remember: casual.”
“How casual?”
She looked down at her outfit; a plain pair of leggings, one of Harvey’s college shirts, and socks with small cows on them. She looked back up at him and chuckled. “This.” She outstretched her arms and smiled broadly.
“Pajamas? Sounds good to me. Nice shirt, by the way. Looks better on you than me.” He leaned down and caught her lips in a soft kiss before she could protest, then padded briskly up the stairs to their bedroom. She sighed and returned to the kitchen, placing the flowers in a vase before dividing the pizza, putting the pieces on plates. She set the plates on the table and retrieved glasses from the cupboard, placing them beside the plates. Glancing around for the wine, it quickly registered that she had forgotten to bring it up from the cellar. She swore to herself as she descended the steps, digging around for the bottle she had in mind. After what felt like forever she found it and ran upstairs with it. She smiled when she spotted her husband standing by the table, clad in red plaid pants and a plain white undershirt.
“I didn’t hear you come in. Hey you.”
“Hey yourself.” He returned her smile and extended his arm for the bottle, which she carefully handed him. Turning it in his hands, he chuckled before setting it down.
“Blueberry?”
“Yeah, I thought maybe we could try something new.”
“Fine by me. You know me and my wine.” He laughed and pulled her chair out for her. She sat and watched as he opened the bottle and poured glasses. He tried tossing the cork into a jar on the counter but missed terrifically. The cork bounced onto the ground and into the dog’s water bowl.
“I’ll get it in the jar one day.” He reached in and grabbed the cork, setting it firmly on the counter.
“Sure Harv, you tell yourself that.”
—————
“Here we go!” The farmer pulled out a small case and set it on the couch, which had been pushed against the wall. Harvey leaned over her shoulder and watched as she unzipped it and flipped the top open. His eyes lit up and he reached around her, grabbing a tape case.
“The Blues Brothers? I didn’t know you had this!”
“Yeah! I found it online right after we saw it. I have this, too. You were just talking about it, I think.” She offered him a tape and he gasped, grabbing it excitedly.
“Pop Goes the World! I haven’t listened to this album in years! I used to have this tape, you know. This very- well, not this exact tape, but this type. This album. Yeah.” He noticed the bemused expression on her face and he chuckled nervously. “Sorry. I know I ramble.”
“It's cute! Don’t apologize.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“Harvey.”
“Sorry.”
His wife sighed and snatched the tapes out of his hands. She turned around and grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down by surprise and crashing her lips against his. When she pulled back, she nearly burst out laughing. His glasses askew, face bright red, and dear Yoba his eyes. His soft brown eyes, half-lidded and slightly dilated, filled with such deep and intense love for the women before him.
“Harvey.” She straightened his glasses for him and ran her hands through his brown curls. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Cutie patootie.”
“Sweetheart.”
She grinned and kissed him again, the fervor replaced with gentle, slow intimacy. The kiss broke and they rested their foreheads together.
“I love using that nickname.”
“What, cutie patootie?”
“Yeah. Do you know why?”
Harvey sighed and smiled. “Yes, I do-"
“It’s ‘cus you have a dumptruck. THE fattest a-”
“Honey, please.” He laughed and brought his hands to his face. His wife grinned and grabbed his hands, pulling them down towards her sides. She burst out laughing and leaned against his chest.
“I say it with love, don't worry.”
“I know, I know.” He rubbed her back and she hummed, looking up at him.
“Hey Harv?”
“Yes, dear?”
She reached behind her and pulled a tape from the top of the bag, slipping it into his hand. He lifted it and grinned, meeting her gaze.
“Sinatra.”
“Yep.”
“Our song is on here, the one we danced to at our wedding.”
“It’s the very first song on side B.”
He nodded, a broad smile on his face.
“Well then, my dear wife. May I have this dance?”
“Of course, my dear husband.”
He strode over to the radio and put the tape in, winding it to the beginning of the reel. He hit play and walked over to the farmer, taking her hand in his.
You make me feel so young
You make me feel so Spring has sprung
And every time I see you grin
I'm such a happy individual
He rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer. Her free hand found itself on his neck, ruffling into his hair. They slowly swayed to the music, stepping in a small circle.
You make me feel so young
You make me feel there are songs to be sung
Bells to be rung
And a wonderful fling to be flung
He spun her, earning a giggle from the woman. She squirmed her hand out of his grasp and brought it to his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed, opening them slowly and gazing down at her.
And even when I'm old and gray
I'm gonna feel the way I do today
'Cause you make me feel so young
“I love you, Harv.”
“I love you too, honey.”
She ran her fingers into his hair and hummed, coiling the curls around. She tugged on a curl near his temple, her eyebrows furrowing momentarily. Her hope of him not noticing was dashed immediately as Harvey put a hand over hers.
“What’s wrong?”
“Harv, you... are you getting gray hair?”
He froze and nudged her hands away. He looked down, shook his head, and shuffled away towards the bathroom. She quickly followed and saw him standing before the mirror, a sorrowful look on his face.
You make me feel so young
You make me feel so spring has sprung
And every time I see you grin
I'm such a happy individual
“Harvey, it’s not-“
“Dear Yoba, I am getting gray.”
“It’s not bad, hon.”
“I’m getting old! Look at this, that wasn’t the only spot!” He pulled on a curl from the other temple and sure enough, it was graying.
“Harvey-“
“I can’t be this old, gray hair already...?”
“Harvey, stop, listen to me-“
“I mean, I know I’m getting up there in my years but-“
“Harvey!”
He flinched, turning to her.
“Honey?”
“You’re spiraling. Listen to me.” She cupped his face and held him, lightly rubbing her thumbs against his cheeks. “You’re not some elderly guy who’s one foot in the coffin.”
“But-“
“No. No. You’re not listening. You need to stop looking at yourself as if you’re a feeble old man, because you’re not. Are you graying? Sure, but everyone does at some point or another. It doesn’t mean you’re old.”
You make me feel so young
You make me feel there are songs to be sung
Bells to be rung
Wonderful fling to be flung
“I love you, Harvey. I love your goofy hobbies, I love when you smile and little crinkles appear by the corners of your eyes, I love you. Gray hair and all.”
“Honey...”
She wiped a tear from his face and pulled him down, drawing his lips into a warm, slow kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, feeling her hands running through and coiling his hair. He noticed that her fingers lingered at his temples and, before he could become anxious again, there was a tongue against his lower lip, begging entrance. A soft moan escaped his lungs and his wife hummed, slowly exploring his mouth. He returned the favor and ran his tongue along hers, earning a deep groan in response. In that moment, he felt lighter than air, free and floating. He felt young.
And even when I'm old and gray
I'm going to feel the way I do today
'Cause you, you make me feel so young
You make me feel so young
You make me feel so young
Ooh, you make me feel so young