Category: SR, MSR
Summary: Fluffy sweetness. Or, as my friend Laura implied, "Sap!"
Feedback: Loved at [email protected]
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The X-files and all properties thereof belong to Chris Carter and 1013
productions. This is intended only for reader enjoyment and no money has exchanged hands.
Distribution: If you want it, you got it. Just keep my name and email address with it.
Special Thanks again go out to Barb, Nicole, and CoryG. These ladies are fantastic, and always take the time to read for me. (Happy Birthday, CG!) :-) Also to my friend Vonetta who loves to read my fanfic although she doesn't watch the show. I swear, soon, we'll get you to see FTF! ;-)
She takes care of a few things in the bathroom first, then exits out into her living room. Once there she opens the bottom of a small cabinet and removes several wrapped gifts and lies them neatly on her coffee table. She smiles to think of him opening these gifts; laughing at some and perhaps becoming misty eyed at others. She has shopped carefully for him, knowing that while it is the thought that counts, she gets pleasure from giving him nice things. Sadly, so many things in their lives are not nice, that they have learned to take what they can, when they can.
Giving a last look to the gifts on the table, the woman walks into her darkened kitchen. She sets to work quickly, wishing yet again that she had paid more attention to her mother's cooking lessons. Smiling ruefully she pulls a cold can of instant muffins from the refrigerator and begins their preparation. Waiting the fifteen minutes seems unbearably long, and she suffers leaning against the cold counter when she'd rather be in her bed, in his warm arms. Today, however, is his day and she intends to make it beautiful.
The oven timer rings long minutes later, and the woman sets about to put pre-made blueberry frosting on the muffins. She carefully sticks a candle into each one and lights them. Slowly she begins the walk back to her bedroom, keeping in the shadows her walls make in the early sunshine.
She approaches the bed where he sleeps still, on his stomach, with the white blankets wrapped around his legs. She takes a moment to admire his lean, tan body and the messy hair on his head. Setting the muffins on the bedside table she sits beside him and leans down until her lips touch his ear. She begins to sing very softly: "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday my dear Mulder, happy birthday to you".
One of the man's eyes opens sleepily and he takes in the scene in a fraction of a second. Suddenly the woman finds herself on her back in the bed, with a warm heavy form on top of her. The sounds of kissing, soft words, and rustling bed sheets can be heard, while the candles in the muffins burn on.
The couple in the bed could care less.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End.
Author's notes: Happy Birthday, Mulder. This is what I'd give you (and us!) if I could. ;-)