Chapter Five - The Best Birthday

She takes their empty plates to the counter and turns to find him swigging from his glass.

"I'm just going to check on her," she informs him before padding towards the stairs. He eyes her until she's out of sight, then quickly shrugs on his jacket and quietly rushes out to his car. He grabs the carrier bag from the boot then hurries back inside, closing the front door and removing his jacket as though nothing had happened. He checks over his shoulder as he goes into the kitchen and scatters the few items from the bag onto the counter.

~•~•~•~

When she reaches the bottom step she frowns upon noticing he's not where she'd left him. She steps into the room and he whips round to face her in surprise.

"What are you…" she begins.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," he goes on to give a rapid rendition of the birthday song whilst holding out a tiny sharing cake with three candles flickering.

Her mind flashes back to the scene from her nightmares; a failed birthday party and a cake infested with creepy-crawlies, but she doesn't show it on her face. She looks from the cake, to him, and their eyes lock as he continues to hurry through the slightly untuned serenade. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that he's acknowledging her birthday or that he's surprising her or that he's making a fuss. She smiles and she means it. "Happy birthday to you," he finishes. "And no cheers for the birthday girl." He offers a dashing grin and she nods appreciatively.

"Thank you," she says, referring to his omission of the customary hip-hip-hoorays.

"Make a wish!" He raises the cake so that it's on the right level for her to blow out the candles. She steps a little closer and squeezes her eyes shut as she softly extinguishes the small flames with a puff of air. "Lovely!" He beams proudly at her and sets the cake back on the counter, beside the pack of candles and matches that he'd brought with him.

"Thank you," she says, a genuine appreciation and vehemence in her tone. She takes a knife from the cutlery drawer and holds it out to him.

"Nuh-uh! Cutting the cake is a birthday duty," he chirps, not realising that this may as well have been a news bulletin for her.

"Oh, okay," she agrees, trying to mask the surprise and slight confusion on her face. She sidles up to him and he presses his hand against the gold board beneath the cake to keep it from slipping across the countertop. She makes the first cut and then looks at him to gauge where she should slice next.

"How about we go for quarters, it's only a small thing? You and Emma can have a slice when she's better then," he offers, desperately wanting to quell the uncertainty that laces her features. She follows his suggestion and informs him where the plates are once she's got the hang of cutting through the thick icing without the board slipping. He retrieves two small plates and patiently waits as she fumbles with picking up a slice and moving it to the chinaware. Eventually, they wrestle the board and half the cake back into the box and take their plates through to the living room.

"Mmm, it's nice," she comments, covering her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful. He hums in agreement and comes to sit next to her on the sofa, a couple of feet between them. The sound of them both chewing fills the room for the next couple of minutes.

"So how has today been in the end? I know Emma being ill wasn't the best birthday present, but has it been as terrible as you thought it would be?" He asks.

She shrugs. "It's not been terrible." They both smirk, knowing she's just keeping up the Ice Queen act. "No, I've had a nice time. As my track record with birthday goes, this has been award winning."

"For a good nomination I hope."

"Best birthday spent with a Fletcher," she quips.

"Best birthday anyone can have!"

She actually laughs at that, turning to see his own face crease with amusement. "You're ridiculous," she chuckles.

"As you've hastened to point out on many an occasion before."

He barely has chance to get the last syllable out because her lips are softly pressing against his. She smells of citrus body wash and the gentle touch of her tongue tastes sweet like the icing from the cake. She'd shuffled to her knees prior to kissing him, allowing her to lean down to reach his lips, and it's only a few seconds until she slowly relaxes and lowers to sit back on heels, her legs folded beneath her. He adjusts his body so that he's not twisting awkwardly and brings his own knee onto the cushion of the couch, facing her completely and letting him deepen the kiss. It's not forceful or rushed, it's patient and hesitant and intimate and about bloody time, they both think.

~•~•~•~

They slowly pull apart and Jac's uncharacteristically anxious, it surprises him considering her confidence when initiating the kiss.

"You okay?" He murmurs.

She smiles gently, appreciating his constant concern, despite it being something that has irked her more often than not. She nods to reassure him. He must take this as a promising sign as he leans in to capture her lips again and she doesn't stop him. The next time they resurface for air, Jac's nervousness has been stamped out and she looks him dead in the eye, intrigued to see what she'd find reflecting in them. He gives her a smile, which earns him one in return, and they decide to put the television on until it's time for him to go.

~•~•~•~

They sit quietly, side by side, arms touching and feet tucked up on the sofa. It's not a particularly intimate position, but baby steps… Neither of them are paying any attention to the TV, not when they can feel the warmth of the other pressed along their arm, the silent rise and fall of their chests, the tingling trace of their lips moving together… It's not perfect, but it's certainly the best birthday Jac's ever had.

~Fin~

A/N: That's the end! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it :)