If it wasn't her birthday she'd offer to deal with the dishes, or at least to help. She's got a secret soft spot for that sense of shared domesticity, and it just seems fair when someone else handles the cooking. For now, though, she's not going to argue. When she stands she leans to plant a light kiss on his temple.

Before slipping outside she grabs a couple of layers- including an oversized sweater that's nominally his, though she suspects he hasn't worn it since their first winter here when she made a habit of stealing it. Grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch, she heads out, sitting with a smile when she finds his gifts. It almost doesn't matter what's in them; the care he's put into all this is enough to keep her warm.