Topic: Something Wonderful

Rufus Bennett

Date: 2017-02-14 16:46 EST
There were some who said Valentine's Day was nothing more than an excuse to rack up the sales on greetings cards and boxes of chocolates, but whether it was or not, there was at least one Granger who was unashamed to take advantage of any opportunity to romance her man, and that Granger was Miranda. She had a very special surprise planned for her Rufus this year, but before she could spring it on him, she had to butter him up a little, and if there was anyone who knew how to butter up the ex-Watcher, it was his wife. She had arranged for Kaylee and Taylor to take Rowan for the night and had his favorite meal delivered to the house, because as much as she loved him, she did not know how to make fish pie. She had a bottle of wine cooling in a bucket of ice - nothing too fancy or expensive, but something she knew he was fond of - and though she hadn't dressed up too much, she was wearing his favorite perfume.

Rufus knew that Miranda liked Valentine's Day, and had learned very quickly to pay attention during the week leading up to it for clues as to what he should be doing. Last year, he'd arranged the meal and sprung it on her, so he was fairly sure that it was her turn this year, and he wasn't disappointed. All he had to do was show up looking reasonably well turned out, and bearing gifts. Thus he had wandered out about an hour ago, ostensibly to talk to Humphrey, and returned at the pre-ordained hour with a squashy parcel under one arm, a card in his hand, and a slender black box under his chin, juggling all three to get the front door open.

She had put on ridiculously romantic music to romance him by, and was just lighting the candles when she heard him fumbling at the door, a little smirk on her face as she purposely ignored him and let him struggle a little. She didn't want him to think she was too eager, after all, even though she was. In fact, her pulse was racing and she had butterflies in her stomach, like they were on their first date all over again.

Of course, their first date had involved him showing up exactly on time with a hole in his tweed jacket, but that was another story. Tonight, he was on time, relaxed, and not quite as nervous as usual about presenting her with gifts. When, finally, he got in through the door, he was revealed to have changed his clothes at the manor, too - gone were the comfortable sweater and jeans, replaced with a crisp white shirt and black suit, and no tie to be seen. He blinked at the sight of the candles, the sound of the music, and the scent of that perfume on the air. "Suddenly I feel as though I should have worn a tie after all," he mused, closing the door behind him as he smiled at her. "Hello, angel."

"Hello, handsome," she replied, shaking the flame from the match and dropping it in the trash before at last going to meet him. She paused just a moment to look him over before grasping him by the lapels and pulling him close for a kiss that probably left a little lipstick on his lips. "Maybe we should do this more often, just to get you into a suit."

Still juggling his packages, he smiled into the kiss she planted on him, managing to free one hand in time to smooth his palm over her hip possessively before she drew away. "Maybe I should keep wearing a suit for special occasions, just to get that kind of welcome," he teased back, bending his head to kiss her again. Gently releasing her hip, he drew the slender box up between them. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"You can get kind of welcome every morning, silly man," she reminded him with an adoring smile that was saved just for him. "What's this?" she asked, though it was obvious enough from the shape of the box. There were some women who required elaborate gifts, but Miranda wasn't one of them. Even if he gave her nothing at all but his heart, it would always be enough. Nevertheless she drew back for a moment so she could open the box, smiling as she lifted the box closer so she could breathe in the scent given off by the single white rose therein. "It's lovely. Thank you."

"It's to butter you up so you don't hit me for the card," he admitted with a grin, handing that over next. He had never been at home with giving and receiving gifts, so he often tried to get it over with as soon as possible so he could enjoy the rest of the evening.

She tugged him further into the cottage so she could set the rose on a table while she tore open the card, giggling at what it said. While it might not be the most romantic card in the world, it certainly was Rufus. On the cover was a slice of unbuttered toast and the sentiment, "You make me feel all warm and toasty on the inside." She reached up to touch another kiss to his lips. "You're adorable."

He laughed as he was kissed again. "That's a relief," he confessed. "Never ever let me be taken card shopping by Vicki, Elle, and Piper again. You should see the ones they decided on." The English posse had opened their arms to him, it seemed, and he wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing. "Last one." And there was the brightly wrapped package, held out with nervous hope.

She chuckled a little at his remark. "Of those three, I'd trust Piper's judgment the most," she told him, only because Piper was the least likely to choose a bawdy card in comparison to the other two. "More?" she asked, perfectly shaped brows arching upwards. While she liked receiving gifts as much as anyone, they were completely unnecessary where he was concerned. She set the card on the table to join the rose before reaching for the last package, the hint of a smirk on her face. "Did Vicki help you wrap this?" she asked, knowing he'd never have done such a pretty wrapping job on his own.

"I may have blackmailed her into wrapping it for me in exchange for keeping schtum about Jon's present," he admitted cheerfully. It was only because of Miranda's influence that he'd started using proper wrapping paper; before that, everything had been wrapped in newspaper.

"Like there's any chance you'd blab," she said, knowing him better than that, though apparently, he wasn't above blackmail. She'd almost resorted to a little blackmail of her own in order to obtain his present, as well, but he didn't have to know that yet. As far as wrapping presents went, Miranda thought the only thing that should be wrapped in newspaper were fish fries.

He chuckled, shrugging lightly. "She doesn't need to know that," he said mildly. "And I must admit, this gift is as much for me as it is for you. Fair warning, in case of disappointment." He grinned, knowing perfectly well that this warning would send her mind reeling toward thoughts of inappropriate lingerie.

"Oh?" she asked, a curious expression on her face, assuming he'd gotten her lingerie or perfume - something they could both enjoy. "It's not a crop, is it?" she teased, knowing him better than that, though the thought of using one on him was doing strange things to her middle.

He raised a brow, smirking at the look on her face. "No, but I think I should probably add that to the ever-growing list of things to try, going by the look on your face," he chuckled, patting her backside gently. "Open it, or I'm going to go and investigate the smell from the kitchen."

"You are not," she warned him, "Or I'm withholding your reward later," she added with a grin, though they both knew that wasn't likely to happen. "It's so lovely, I hate to unwrap it," she admitted, but there wasn't much point in wrapping a gift if it wasn't going to be unwrapped eventually.

"I'll be sure to tell Vicki you felt the love," he chuckled, circling to her back to wrap his arms about her waist, chin on her shoulder. "You look beautiful, by the way." And he truly meant it. While some men loved to see their wives or girlfriends dressed to the nines, Rufus loved to see his Miranda comfortable. When she wasn't worrying about her outfit, she was completely herself, and that was the woman he had fallen in love with.

Rufus Bennett

Date: 2017-02-14 16:47 EST
"I bet you say that to all the girls," she teased back, though she knew he didn't. In fact, she knew he had eyes only for her, and had for over twenty years, and that only made her love him all the more. Twenty years was a long time to wait for someone, especially when you never knew if you'd ever have them back. Normally one to tear into packages, she took her time with this one, carefully undoing all the care he and Vicki had put into the package and in no hurry to move away from his embrace.

"The only other girls I say that to are either married to your ex-boyfriend, or two years old," he promised her fondly, kissing her temple with another of those wry grins of his. He genuinely found her one-night-stand with Jason hilarious, never holding it against her, even when she'd confessed it the night before Bethany married the man.

"He's not my ex-boyfriend," she pointed out, frowning a little at the reminder that she'd once dated her daughter's husband, albeit briefly. As it had turned out, they made far better friends than lovers, and no one compared to Rufus, no matter who they were. "I should have never told you."

"No frowns," he reminded her gently, squeezing his arms about her waist. "I happen to like that story, more because of the fact that it proves you were always mine." His lips brushed her neck tenderly, refusing to be cowed by her frown.

"I was and I am," she replied, her voice turning quiet for some reason. "Always." Even always wasn't long enough for her to spend with her Rufus, but she had decided to do something about that, too. The hard part would be convincing him. The moment came and went, and she let go of the regret and the sadness, too happy to be with him to hold onto it for long. Instead, she finished unwrapping the package and pulled open the box.

Nestled inside the box were a pair of furry cream slippers with a secret - they were microwaveable, designed to keep her feet toasty warm and smelling ever so slightly of lavender whenever she wished it. Rufus smiled into her shoulder, waiting for the reaction when she twigged what it was she was looking at.

Oh, she sorted out what they were quickly enough, but she couldn't quite figure out how they were for both of them, unless it was just so that she didn't touch him with her cold feet. "Oh! They make your feet soft, too," she said, looking them over. She'd have put them on straight away, if she wasn't already wearing shoes. He could be sure she'd be wearing them later though. No, it wasn't the most elaborate or expensive gift in the world, but it was something he'd obviously put some thought into and that was all that mattered. She turned to face him and smiled up at him. "Thank you, Rufio. I love them, and I love you," she said, touching a kiss to his nose.

The relief in his eyes was comical - he never had much faith in his ability to choose appropriate presents, and this year, he'd gone out on a limb without input from any women. "I love you back, Miri," he promised her, lips brushing hers with each word. "You are my world." He couldn't resist adding, "And now your pinky satellites aren't going to burn icy holes in my shins in bed anymore."

She laughed. "I knew you had an ulterior motive." She kissed him again, a small reward for his efforts though there would be more later, before leading him toward the table. "Sit," she urged him. The rest of the evening was up to her. "It's my turn."

Chuckling, he let himself be lead to the table, keeping his hands to himself for once. She had obviously gone to a lot of trouble this evening, and it would be churlish of him to spoil her surprise just because he knew where to touch her to make her mind go blank. "Is this where I say woof?" he asked in amusement, seating himself obediently at the table.

"Not unless you want to play doggie," she countered, letting him make of that what he may. She reached over to rub him behind the ear before moving past him into the kitchen. "Would you like to pour the wine, Woofio?" she teased.

He laughed, reaching for the wine bottle to open it up. "I'm just going to let that suggestion ferment in your mind for a moment longer, love," he told her, waiting for her to line up the word "doggie" with "Valentine's Day". He didn't usually have a dirty mind, but she tended to have that effect on him when he was relaxed.

He didn't have to wait really when that was exactly the way she'd intended it to sound, though she wasn't about to admit it. Instead, she disappeared momentarily into the kitchen to fetch their dinner. When she finally emerged, she had two plates topped with covers which she had obviously not cooked herself.

"Well, never let it be said that I can't take a hint," he mused while she was out of sight, pouring out the wine. He knew she wasn't confident enough to make what he thought he could smell, but she'd gone to the effort of pretending, so he could go to the effort of playing along. "I get the feeling I'm about to be spoiled."

She made no attempt to hide the fact that she hadn't cooked the meal - he knew her better than that, after all - but it was the thought that counted. She set the plates on the table, one for him and one for her, before moving off again to gather a small pile of gifts for him that she did her best to keep hidden from sight until she was ready to offer them up. "Your favorite. Fish pie. Just as disgusting as you like it. You can thank Elena later," she added with a grin.

He laughed. "Love, you really don't have to eat what you don't like just because I like it," he assured her, but there was genuine excitement in his eyes at the prospect of his favorite dish. "I will thank her. Tomorrow. I have a feeling we're going to be busy later on." He lifted the cover on his plate to breathe in the creamy smell, trying not to watch as she retrieved those gifts of hers.

"Oh, I'm not!" she insisted. "I am having something sensible, like chicken." It was still a pie, but at least, it didn't smell or taste like fish. "You know, I've been thinking ..." she started as she claimed a chair beside him, the gifts carefully tucked away on the chair beside her. It was always a dangerous thing when Miranda got to thinking.

To be fair, the fish pie he was so fond of was more a sort of creamy fish broth topped with mashed potato, but Miranda was entitled not to like it. Rufus smiled at her as she sat down, his expression ever so slightly suspicious. "Is this where you start trying to convince me to wear whatever brightly colored confection of underwear you have bought me as a joke this year?"

It wasn't so much the smell or taste of it she turned her nose up at as it was the thought of it. Maybe one day, he'd be able to convince her to try it, but that day wasn't today. "I did not buy you underwear this year, so no," she replied, pausing a moment to stick her tongue out at him. "And just for that, you can wait until you're done eating to get your prezzies." So, there. That should teach him.

He almost pouted, but he knew from experience this would only result in him having to wait even longer to get the gift-giving out of the way. Instead, he raised his glass to her. "A toast," he announced, looking her in the eye. "To my beautiful wife, who makes my life complete in ways I never even realized were possible."

Of course, she wasn't so cruel she'd actually make him wait all night for his gifts, but there was one that she was very nervous about giving him. "Do you really mean that?" she asked, a soft smile on her face as she reached for her glass.

His smile softened in the face of hers. "Of course I do, Miri," he promised her, that special tone of voice hers and hers alone. He reached out, gently stroking his thumb against her cheekbone. "I don't know who I would be without you."

Rufus Bennett

Date: 2017-02-14 16:48 EST
"Rufus," she started, a thought on her mind that had been bothering her for some time. She averted her gaze to the wine in her glass, almost afraid to ask him. "Do you think if it wasn't for me, Lei would still be alive?"

"Oh, Miri ..." He set his glass down, taking hers from her hand to gather her palms into his, drawing her gaze back to him. "Listen to me," he told her, soft but firm. "No matter what happened between us, Lei would not be alive now. She lived longer than any Slayer in history bar one. We both knew she was on borrowed time. If it wasn't for you, she would never have survived her pregnancy. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have a little piece of her to love. From the moment she was activated, Lei was going to die in a bloody way. It was only a matter of time. And it was never going to be your fault."

She nodded her head silently, drawing one hand away so she could dash an errant tear from her face. There had been so much sadness and tragedy in their lives, and yet, there they were, living their happily-ever-after at long last. "Every time she calls me Mama, I feel guilty. I'm not really her mama, Rufus, but I swear to you, I'll make sure Ro knows who her mother really was and how much she loved her."

"She'll know," he promised her softly, leaning close to kiss her temple. "We'll make sure she knows. But Lei chose us to raise her, Miri. We were the only people she would ever have trusted with her little girl. I may be in a wheelchair by the time it happens, but I promise you, we will see Ro grown and settled with a family of her own. The life her mother should have had."

The frown on her face deepened, her heart aching with guilt that didn't solely have to do with the deceased Slayer. "About that, Rufus ..." she started, having to draw on all the courage she could muster to breach a conversation she'd been mulling over a little too long. "Do you know how old we'll be when Ro turns twenty?"

He considered the look on her face, reading the guilt there but unable to discern just why she would be feeling guilt about this particular subject. "Younger than Humphrey is now," he pointed out a little warily. "Why?"

"But not by much," she pointed out. She didn't really want to lay a guilt trip on him or point out all the things they'd miss because they had decided to adopt a baby while in what was supposed to be their golden years. He knew all this already and was intelligent enough to do the math. "What if I told you we could extend our life spans and it had nothing to do with becoming vampires or anything that would cause another person harm?"

He eyed her with a concerned frown. He did, after all, know significantly more about this area than she did. "I would ask you where you found it out, who you spoke to, and what the price was."

She said nothing for a long moment as she studied him, weighing his mood and his openness to such an idea. He hadn't told her no yet; he was only asking for the details. Maybe it was a little selfish on her part, but after everything they'd been through and all the time they'd lost and the sacrifices they'd made, didn't they deserve a little selfish' Instead of replying, she turned to the small pile of packages beside her and choose one that carefully stuffed in a gift bag and covered with paper. "I've been thinking about it a while. About how we might not live to see Ro grow up, or have children of her own. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't care. We paid our dues, Rufus. You paid your dues." She contemplated the gift bag, worriedly chewing at one corner of her mouth. "I know you don't want to hear about it, but we sacrificed twenty years of our lives for the good of mankind, and we deserve to have it back."

"Miranda." Rufus' voice was gentle, but he didn't need to hear her reasons. He knew her reasons; he felt the same way about them, as well. But he also knew the area she was straying into, and he needed a straight answer. "How you found out it was possible. Who provided the details and the product. What price you had to pay. Now."

She blew out a breath, knowing this was the time to fess up, now or never. If she stood any chance of him agreeing to this crazy scheme, she was going to have to be completely honest with him. "Sol. He's a warlock. I know I'm not supposed to know that, but it's not like he makes much of an effort to hide it." She shrugged a shoulder before going on. "I've been thinking about it for a while, so I asked him. The worst thing he could tell me was no, right' Or maybe change me into a toad. Anyway, he gave me this," she explained, reaching into the gift bag to pull out a somewhat ornate bottle of some kind of liquid. "It's taken him over a year to gather the ingredients, so don't waste it."

Having a name helped. Rufus was aware of Sol's reputation; he'd made a point of looking the man up when he'd first heard the hints that Jon's new assistant was magically shady. So ....he had who and he had how. What he didn't have was how much. Ignoring the bottle, he took her hand once again. "Nothing like this comes without a hefty price, Miranda," he said, keeping himself calm to avoid upsetting her. "Something he wants for something you want. What did you pay for this?"

"He didn't want any money. I assume he's got all the money he needs. To be honest, I don't know why he bothers to work at all, except that he seems to get a kick out of it." Or maybe there was another reason she hadn't realized until they'd made their little deal. "All he wants is for the chance to meet someone. That's all. No strings attached. No promises. Just an introduction."

"Who does he want to meet?" Rufus asked. He was going to get all the details out of her, even if he had to drag them out with a toothpick. She knew better than to think he wouldn't want to know everything.

Oh, she knew very well that he'd want to know everything, and it was all going to come out eventually, even if it was coming out in bits and pieces. "Your pie is getting cold," she reminded him.

He twisted a moment, covering both dishes once again. "Miranda ..." This time there was a warning in his voice. Magic was not something to take lightly or mess about with. He needed to know that his wife had not just inadvertently given a warlock the means to fulfill a long held grudge or something similar. "Don't make me ask you again."

"Oh, please, Rufus. What are you going to do' Spank me?" she asked, rolling her eyes at him a little, but then she sighed. She knew he meant well and that he worried about things like this, but she was a Rhy'Din native, too, and not exactly ignorant where magic was concerned. "He wants to meet Brynne, but he doesn't think she's very approachable, so I told him I'd arrange a meeting. That's all. Do you want to see the contract we signed in blood?" she asked, though they had really done no such thing. "Seriously, this isn't Grimm's Fairy Tales. The man is lonely and has a crush. That's all."

"Magic isn't Grimm's Fairy Tales, Miri," he told her sternly. "There is always a price. Even when the outcome is beneficial, the price can be too high to pay. Like the spell we arranged for Anna. Clarity of mind, but she will only live for another three years, at most. I once knew a student who cast a spell wishing for more money, because he wanted to take his parents on holiday. He got his wish - his parents died in a terrible accident, and he received several thousand pounds from their life insurance payout. That is how magic works. At least appreciate that it frightens me that you did this behind my back, however pleased I may be with the outcome."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," she told him, her face betraying her disappointment and even a little bit of guilt. How could she surprise him if she didn't go behind his back a little" "What do you want me to do' Give it back" Ask him to come over so you can talk to him yourself? I didn't just do this for us, but for Rowan and Bethany, too. Honestly, I'd have introduced him to Brynne even without the potion, but he doesn't have to know that."

Rufus Bennett

Date: 2017-02-14 16:48 EST
"It's a wonderful surprise," he promised her, dropping her hands to cradle her face in his grasp, holding her gaze. There was something raw in his expression, something he never normally allowed her to see. "Please understand, Miri, it isn't that you surprised me. It isn't even the content of that surprise, which is something I've been contemplating myself for a while now. It's ....I know how magic works. I've seen the best intentions twisted into horrors through no one's fault. Magic frightens me, Miranda, and the thought of you voluntarily walking into that world, making yourself known to the people who practice ..." His face paled, eyes bright with tears that said far more than words ever could as he began to shake. "I can't lose you, Miri. I can't. Don't ever put yourself in danger again. Please."

This was a side of Rufus that he hardly ever let show, even to Miranda, and her heart sank to see him so upset by what she'd seen as a good thing. As angry as she was at losing those twenty years and as eager as she was to have them back to spend with him, if this was the result, it wasn't worth the price. And yet, there might be something he had overlooked.

"Sweetheart," she started, knowing how long he'd battled the dark side of magic and how it had influenced his views. She touched his face, her fingers grazing his cheek, her eyes warm with adoration. "Not all magic is dark, love. There's white magic, too. That's the kind of magic Sol practices. Maybe you should talk to him yourself, form your own opinion, and once you do, if you still think it's too dangerous, we'll get rid of it and I'll never mention it again. Promise." She brushed the tears from his face and leaned close to touch a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm sorry." He scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm so sorry, I'm an arsehole," he murmured against her hair. "It's a good surprise, I just ....All that bollocks about bravery, and here I am, crying over something that obviously didn't happen when you made your deal. I'm sorry."

"No, you're right. I should have told you. I just knew you'd hate the idea and I wanted to surprise you," she told him, burrowing against his chest, relieved he wasn't angry with her anymore. "I'm sorry, Rufus. I know it wasn't your fault, but I'm still so angry about it. About how they controlled our lives, how they controlled your life. It was hard being without you all those years, hard trying to explain to Beth why she couldn't see her father or even know who he was. I don't blame you. I really don't. I know we made the right decision at the time. The only decision we could really make, but by God, it still makes me angry. I want those years back. There are still so many things I want to do with you, so many things you missed that I don't want you to miss with Rowan. This potion ....All it does is suspend aging for one year. If we stop taking it, it stops working. Simple as that. I made sure of that."

She pushed away from him suddenly as she remembered something. "Oh! I almost forgot. He gave me the list of ingredients, so you could look them over before we did anything with it," she said, reaching for the giftbag and fishing out a slip of paper. Of course, it would take more than a list of ingredients to create a potion of that kind, but at least, it allowed Rufus to know what supposedly went into it.

All those years. How often had he thought those words, felt that anger" How often had he caught himself resenting Shen Lei for ever having been born, his uncle for inducting him into the order, the Council for choosing him' How often had he felt guilty for abandoning the woman he loved and the daughter they had made together, no matter how much safer they were for it' It was a deep, abiding pain, one he knew she felt as well, and one it seemed his Miranda had taken steps to assuage.

"Ingredients?" Wiping his nose, he took the list from her, sharp eyes scanning the complex sequence of flora and fauna, and essence, that went into creating something that would pause the aging process. "Prophet's Laurel," he murmured, a faint smirk touching his lips. "I don't think I want to know how he got hold of that."

She knew he was still carrying that guilt with him, and it was part of the reason she tried not to mention it, but if they wanted to be completely honest with each other, then he might as well know how she really felt. There were other options, of course. There was time travel, but it was too risky, and every other sort of magic was just as dangerous, if not more so. It was either this or accept the fact that those twenty years were gone forever and hope for a long lifespan. She picked up a napkin to dab at his eyes and his nose, like one might a child, her heart aching for him. She'd only seen him in tears a few times in her whole life, and she never wanted to see him in tears again, unless they were happy ones. "I don't know what that is. Is it dangerous?"

"It's one of the rarest herbs in existence," he explained quietly. "As far as I know, it can only be found on one planet in the entire multiverse, in one specific time frame. He went to a lot of trouble to create this, angel. He must have more than a lonely crush on your cousin."

"Do you want to talk to him yourself?" she asked him again. She didn't want to push the matter, but if talking to Sol would ease his mind, she saw no reason why he shouldn't. And there was no rush in trying the potion. It wasn't going anywhere, after all, unless one of them decided to dump it.

He picked up the bottle, turning it over in his hands thoughtfully. "There is ....a test I could do," he said slowly. "If there really is Prophet's Laurel in this, it would isolate and prove it. And if it really is in there, then there is no reason to think any of the other ingredients are not what he says they are. Like I said, it's incredibly rare."

"All right, then. Do it," she told him. There was no rush, after all, and no reason they shouldn't be sure the potion was what Sol said it was. It was better to be safe than sorry. "I trust you, and I trust your judgment. If you decide it's too dangerous or not what he says it is, I will abide by whatever decision you make. Scouts' Honor," she promised, lifting her hand to make the Girl Scout Salute, though she'd never been one herself.

He set the bottle down, catching her hand in his. "I'm sorry I over-reacted," he apologized again, though far calmer this time. "It is a wonderful idea, and a wonderful surprise. Being able to have that time with you restored ....is beyond anything I would have hoped for myself. I love you, angel."

"You didn't," she assured him, understanding how suspicious he was of magic and how terrified he was of losing her. She stroked her fingers against his cheek, her eyes shining with love and adoration. "I love you, Rufus. Twenty years, thirty years ....It's never going to be enough. I envy Jason and Beth sometimes, you know," she admitted with a guilty frown. Their souls had been linked for eons, fated to find each other lifetime after lifetime, until someday they chose not to return.

"There's no need," he promised her, drawing her close into his arms to touch his brow to hers. "One lifetime with you is worth all the lifetimes of an eternity."

"You really think so?" she asked, a hint of amusement on her face at his statement, as romantic and sincere as it was. "You don't think we'd drive each other crazy if we spent lifetime after lifetime together?" she asked, smirking a little at him, even as he kissed her forehead.

"You already drive me crazy," he chuckled back to her, nose to nose as his fingers skimmed her arms. "In the best possible way." His lips met hers in a slow kiss, tenderness that flared into passion all too easily. "Sod dinner," he murmured against her lips. "We'll microwave it at midnight and tell Elena we ate it on time."

Sod the rest of his gifts, too, apparently, though maybe the best gift she could give him was her love. Suddenly, she was in his lap, her legs straddling him, her fingers in his hair, and her lips meeting his, her own passion flaring to match his.

One thing they had never lacked was passion, be it in loving moments or in arguments, though this last discussion could hardly be called either of those. But it was passionate. Was it any wonder that Bethany had been born to them, born out of passion that had not waned, even after twenty-four years of separation' Rufus knew he would never get enough of his Miranda, and though his concern over her surprise was real, his delight in it was also very real. More time to love her, more time to be loved by her, more time to live the life they had been denied. How could he possibly argue with such a special gift' And how the hell was he going to top it next year?