Well, LFish is kind of in a catatonic state in terms of fanfiction, so I've taken it upon myself to write the next fic—that, and I don't want to do my math homework.

This one is based off of a little humorous display that I saw while visiting COPIA (which has since closed sob) in Napa Valley about five years ago. There was an exhibit about food (as befitting a center of food, wine, and the arts), and the display was a guide to wine tasting as demonstrated by Brunhilda and (I think) Olaf from the comic Farley. Lfish and I still get a good kick out of remembering that.

Mostly dialogue, so it looks a little skimpy.

Wine Tasting

Or

In Which Kratos Attempts to Refine His Wife

"…now carefully tilt the glass away from you, toward the light." Kratos demonstrated in one refined movement, tilting the glass at an impossible angle to let the light filter through the pale liquid within.

Anna tried "Okay, I think I got that—OOPS!" The wine was heading perilously toward the rim of the glass; she righted it hastily in an attempt to contain it. "Ehehehe I almost had it…"

Kratos raised an eyebrow. "Be glad we don't have anything expensive covering the floor. You might have given me a heart attack otherwise."

Anna pouted. "Oh shut it, you. You can't expect me to do everything right the first time. Besides, this is so stupid! Why can't you enjoy a nice glass of wine without spending half an hour staring at it first?"

"This is part of the experience," her husband replied serenely.

"'Part of the experience' my ass! Alright, so it looks pale in the candlelight. Well you know what? If I look at the wine while it's on the table, wonder of wonders: it's still pale!" She set the glass down and slapped both hands to her cheeks in a look of mock amazement.

"That is incorrect," Kratos said without blinking. "The clarity is emphasized more in the light, so the wine appears closer to a pale beige tone than the goldenrod—"

"The what?" His wife looked about ready to tear out her hair; Kratos decided it was time to abandon this particular thread.

"Never mind," he said hastily. "We'll move on."

"Is this the part where we actually drink the damn stuff?" She huffed impatiently as she picked up the glass yet again.

"No. Another important component to a good wine is its bouquet," Kratos said matter-of-factly.

"…aren't those for flowers?" Anna appeared confused, and probably rightly so.

"The term applies to wines as well," her husband explained. "Specifically, it refers to the scent. Some wines have a more floral bouquet, others a fruity one…"

"Well of course it has a fruity scent," Anna said, cutting in. "Wine's made out of grapes, right? S'not like there's strawberry in here…is there?" She squinted at the liquid.

Oh the unfortunate task of dealing with the uncultured. Kratos groaned to himself and said patiently, "No, there are just grapes, Anna."

"Don't be so patronizing," she snapped, looking a little scandalized at being caught two-timing with ignorance. "I was just checking; that's all."

"Very well," Kratos replied, expertly hiding his amusement. "Now, swirl the wine—slowly." He gave her a long look, waiting for a disaster to strike.

"What?" To his good fortune, none had occurred, although now she was looking very confused.

"Nothing. Now, swirl the wine slowly and—what is it?" Now she was the one giving him a searching look, which actually gave him a slight chill: Anna, eyes narrowed and with wine glass held perilously aloft off to the side by the stem, made for an imperious sight indeed. It was almost like Yggdrasil staring him down from across the long meeting table back in Derris-Kharlan.

She blinked and all of a sudden that steel magnolia vision he'd been having dissipated. "What? What'd I do?"

Kratos sighed. "You were giving me a very interesting look."

"I was? Oh- no, I was just paying really close attention. You know, gotta retain everything the first time around now." Anna tapped her noggin with a finger for emphasis.

"…Right." And now he'd lost his train of thought. Blast.

Luckily, his wife chose that moment to unknowingly save him: "Hey, Kratos…"

"Hm?"

"Can we, you know, kind of skip this step? I just really wanted to enjoy a glass of wine with dinner, and this is getting kind of tedious. Like, I'd-rather-hang-out-with-Noishe tedious."

"You would?" Kratos asked. That hurt.

"Well, at least your furry dog-thing doesn't try to force antiquated ceremony crap on you." She set her cup down resolutely on the table top with a clink.

"It's not antiquated; it's refined."

"And I'm not a noblewoman; I'm Anna."

There was a long silence before Kratos quietly said, "Touché."

"YES!" Anna did an undignified fist pump. "HA. TAKE THAT!" The finger she pointed sharply at him might have gone through his wine glass had he not hastily gotten it out of the way.

…and then just as quickly she had quieted down. "So, can we indulge?" She was almost bouncing up and down in her seat from the excitement.

Oh for the love of…it's just a glass of wine. "It's not the same if you just slop it all down," he said with a frown.

She apparently hadn't heard him (or else assumed he said "yes"- which he hadn't), for the next thing he knew his spouse had tilted the wine glass nearly upside down, downing the contents of the cup in one satisfying gulp.

Kratos sat there, horrified, his completely full glass of wine still held in his hand.

Anna smacked her lips. "Mmm that's a good vintage right there." She looked from his wine to his expression. "I haven't grown an extra arm, have I?"

"No…"

"Are you going to drink that?" She pointed at the full glass.

"Ah…" Alas, he wasn't quick enough to respond: the next thing he knew, she'd leaned over the table, snatched the glass from his fingers, and downed that as well. She sat back in her chair, a smug and satisfied smile fixed broadly on her face.

"The nerve," Kratos said as he sat there in shock.

Anna snorted. "Oh please, you can't even taste it anyway."

Kudos if you caught the reference to a certain lawyer.