Champagne Spirits

By Jelsemium

Disclaimer: These are not my characters.

Spoilers/Warnings: None, really

Author Notes: This is for the 10 Random Prompts LJ Community (Spirits) AND the Fifteen Minute, One Word Challenge at NumB3rs dot org (Champagne).

Word Count: 639

Time: No clue, sorry

Charlie felt his spirits rising as he poured the champagne, genuine champagne from the Champagne region of France and not just Champagne style wine from California.

Amita smiled as he handed her the glass.

"What is the occasion?" she asked, taking a small sip.

"Oh, because I felt like it?" Charlie said with a sly smile.

"That is as good a reason as any," Amita replied. "Well, usually it is, but you look like you are up to something, my dear."

"Do I?" Charlie said mischievously. "And here I thought I was being so inscrutable."

Amita's laugh bubbled from her throat like Champagne.

"You're never inscrutable, Charlie," Amita said, giving him a shove.

"Does this look like the face of a man who would deceive you?"

"You look like a man who's up to something," she asserted. She tilted her head and considered. "It's not our anniversary. It's not my birthday." She closed her eyes and took another sip. "It's not your birthday, either."

"You are correct in all of the above," Charlie said happily. He held out his hand and walked Amita over to the couch.

"You helped your brother and his team solve a case," Amita ventured.

Charlie shook his head. "Not this week," he replied.

"You solved P vs. NP," Amita guessed.

Charlie laughed.

"No," he said.

"Then what's put you in this… well… bubbly mood?" Amita asked.

"I had an encounter with a spirit," Charlie announced.

"A spirit?" Amita questioned. "A spirit as in alcohol or a spirit as in a ghost?"

Charlie shook his head, still smiling. "It wasn't alcoholic in nature and you know that I do not believe in ghosts."

He moved over closer to Amita and held out his glass.

Obligingly, she tapped her glass against it.

"So, what kind of spirit does that leave?" she asked.

"It was, well, more like an emotional thing," Charlie tried to explain. "I was looking through our box of Halloween decorations… by 'our' I mean my parents' decorations from when I was a kid."

Amita nodded. "Go on," she urged.

"I was looking for the pirate hat that Don had used back in high school," Charlie said. "I thought that would be appropriate for Millie's Halloween bash. I was going to decorate a vest with computer disks…"

Amita laughed. "A software pirate!" she said. "I love it." She beamed at him. "I could go as a computer bug!"

Charlie laughed and toasted her. "That would be awesome," he said.

"But that still doesn't answer my question," Amita prodded.

"I found this," Charlie said. He pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and handed it to Amita.

When she opened it, she found notes in tiny, precise writing. "What is it?"

"They're my mom's notes," Charlie explained. "According to them, she was sitting up with her newborn, me, and a song came to her. She wrote an etude to describe how she felt when she held me."

"Can you play it?" Amita asked.

"I've been practicing all day," Charlie admitted. He got up and walked over to the piano.

Intrigued, Amita followed and sat down on the bench next to him.

Charlie cleared his throat a trifle self consciously and played. Amita felt tingling and warm all over when he finished.

"That was beautiful," she whispered.

"Yes," Charlie said. "It felt, well, I felt like she was here, holding me." He touched the notebook gently. "I think that is one of many reasons why neither Dad nor I can bring ourselves to move out of this house," he said. "Sometimes it feels like she's still here."

Amita kissed his cheek. "It's not the house that holds her spirit, Charlie. It is you… your mother's spirit is in you."

Charlie turned his head just enough to capture Amita's lips and drink the Champagne from them.