March 28 - Happy Birthday

[brightestlight]

She didn't know when his birthday was. He'd never told her, so when she got the email, it just sort of exploded into a flurry of needing to do things. Of needing to put something together, and that's why she did. That's why she messaged him, why she'd booked the holodeck, and why she'd done this. She was outside, waiting.

And, yeah, she was wringing her hands, until she heard him coming closer. Because she was nervous. Because, as he'd told her once, what seemed a lifetime ago, he loved birthdays.

And she, Caroline Forbes, was pretty much the world's biggest stickler for throwing good parties.

"Hey," she said, exhaling in sort of a rush, smiling brightly because she was glad to see him, but that also sort of meant she could stop working on it, she could just hope it all went off well.

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[brightestlight]

She smiles, everything about her so happy in this moment, and he's got his eyes closed so he can't even see it, but she takes his hand in both of hers as she pulls him with her. She's walking backwards, but her steps are sure even when it goes from the incredibly flat, manufactured floor to cobblestones, and they're in Paris.

They're in Paris, and it's not modern Paris - it's around the 1950s, and they're next to the Seine - the path's about ten feet wide, with a low wall to the left that's got candles - all sorts of candles, along the wall about two feet between each one. They're tall and squat and fat and tapers and votives; they were whatever the holodeck gave her when she asked for a candle, and to her, it was important that she did it herself.

There were other things - they'd get to them later, but right now, when the door closed behind them and melted away, Caroline nodded to herself. "Open your eyes." And she hoped that there wasn't anything the matter with Paris, because there was pretty much one change for this to be right. "Happy Birthday," she said softly, her lips curving up into a smile.