Penblwydd Hapus, Gwen!

[coffee_sir]

It hadn't been easy, but it certainly hadn't been difficult. One would think a surprise party on an island of that size would have been folly, but Gwen's friends had managed. Once the word had been safely spread out through Gwen's social circle, the only real trouble was making sure Gwen stayed away from the kitchen and the Hub during the day of

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[tardistraveller]

It had been a sight to remember. Sarah Jane had spent an hour actually physically fighting with the bookshelf, a foot on it for leverage as she yanked out book after book, throwing them at it as she gave it the sternest words of warning she had in her. "If you don't give me what I want, you will regret it," she assured, half a mind to fetch K-9 already.

She'd been knee-deep in sonnets and love letters between lovers of old when she'd finally received it and smiled to herself, content. "Now, was that so hard?"

Now she just had to dress and get to the party, hoping Peter would leave without her. She'd even wrapped the present in a shawl, arriving with a confident grin as she made sure she was all best dressed in her polka-dot red dress. She had reason to be pleased, after all. She'd won against the bookshelf (and yes, had cleaned up).

[vegas_never]

"What did you give her?" Peter asked, sliding covertly up behind Sarah Jane. His arms settled easily around her waist as he nuzzled into her hair. His sense of propriety had definitely shifted, of late. There were levels to this sort of thing, he thought.

[tardistraveller]

Oh, how good. Gwen's party would have confetti soon enough. It was just a matter of time before Sarah Jane imploded in a rush of being lavished with so much affection that she burst and she all-too-happily leaned back into the touch, giving a pleased murmur.

A deep inhalation to regain her wits and she had moved her head just enough to let her nose brush Peter's cheek. "I gave her a book I wrote, once upon a time."

[vegas_never]

"I didn't know you had written a book," Peter replied, clearly impressed. "Fiction or non-fiction?" He swept her hair back over her shoulder so that he could press a lingering kiss to the side of her neck. "Or non-fiction disguised as fiction?"

[tardistraveller]

"I've written several books," she said proudly, thinking yet that this position where she couldn't see him simply wasn't working. "One non-fiction," she recalled as she did turn, righting the little mental problem she'd had. "And several fiction." Now able to look up properly into his eyes, she gave a contented little smile.

One that held a secret.

"However, this book," she said, eyes glinting with mischief. "I believe most people would call a Harlequin."

[vegas_never]

"Sarah Jane Smith, you minx!" Peter teased her, tugging her closer and slipping one hand up to rest warm against the back of her neck. "Going to tell me what it's about, then? All heaving bosoms and ripped bodices?"

[tardistraveller]

She grinned widely at the full name, laughing with a clear ring to her voice. "I had to write it under a pseudonym!" she teased. "Horribly embarrassing, but you wouldn't believe how it sold off the racks. Heaving bosoms of Earth girls and the alien that loved them enough to take her on his spaceship and well...have his way with her."

"Fiction," she reminded Peter.

She searched his eyes, nodding to the dance floor. "Dance with me." Something about it seemed right. They had danced on their date and in the bastion of a private one-on-one dance, secrets could slip between two people without any trouble at all.

[vegas_never]

"Wishful thinking," Peter corrected her with a knowing look, and he was being good about it, trying to be play the part of the supportive, understanding boyfriend, but no man liked to be reminded that their girlfriend had sexual fantasies about other men, especially not other men that happened to look just like them. His eyes had grown stormy, but he accepted her offer and escorted her out onto the dance floor.

[tardistraveller]

"Fiction," she contradicted with a very thick, stern warning in her voice as she walked with him, her arm wrapped about his waist before taking him right to the middle of the room where everyone would see. She was not embarrassed, nor did she want to be in anyone else's arms.

She eased in. "What matters most," she said, very calm and not letting her emotions get the best of her. Not anymore. "Is where I am right now. I am dancing with a wonderful man who I'm lucky enough to call my boyfriend," she said, lifting her chin to smile at him as the world became very uncomplicated, at least in her eyes.

[vegas_never]

Peter's expression softened a bit at that, and he pulled her closer, leaning down enough that he could brush their noses together with a faint smile. "You are lucky," he gently quipped. "I'm an excellent dancer." His hand was warm against the small of her back, and as they swayed, Peter fancied that it was made to fit there, just so.

[tardistraveller]

She was more lucky than she could ever express in words and she simply smiled as their noses brushed, heart beating rapidly in her chest. She knew deep down that this was the moment to tell him, and yet, it felt so nerve wracking. She simply eased away, enough to be able to see his face, his expression, so she could take a mental picture of this very moment where her heart might just fall out into her stomach.

"I am lucky," she agreed once more, voice deep and very serious, staring right up at him. "And I love you." The words came so easily now. "I love you for your charm and your intelligence and the way you dance with me. I love the way you look at me, but also, the way you look at the world and the way when you sing, I can't take my eyes off you and get stuck thinking on it later." She was a writer and she had possession of a great many words. And she wanted him to hear them all.

But what was most important was this. "But really, I love you, Peter Carlisle. Not just your face or your body or your lovely smile or voice, but all of

[vegas_never]

Peter's breath had caught in spite of his best efforts at playing it cool, and when Sarah had finished, he slowly exhaled, slipping both hands up to frame her beautiful face. "I know," he whispered back to her, barely audible, and ghosted his lips over hers in a barely-there kiss. "I know."

The karaoke machine was playing music even when no one was singing, and it clicked over to the next song. Without quite thinking about it, Peter had lept up to the stage and grabbed hold of the mic, bringing it to his lips with a flourish as he motioned emphatically to Sarah Jane.

"You don't know how you move me, deconstruct me, and consume me... I'm all used up, I'm out of luck, I am starstruck by something in your eyes that is keeping my hope alive..."

He lept back down again, and pulled her in close, still singing.

"But I'm sick of myself when I look at you, something is beautiful and true, in a world that's ugly and a lie it's hard to even want to try, and I'm beginning to think baby you don't know..."

[tardistraveller]

She was torn, standing there before so many of her friends (their friends, if she had anything to do with it) and she wanted to laugh and go pink at the humiliation or maybe just kiss the hell out of him. She settled for the second, unwrapping the mic from his hands and setting it down, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

"Let's move this somewhere more private, Tiger," with a low rumble of encouragement, easing back and offering her his hand.

She really wouldn't be so hard-pressed to listen to him sing like that for hours on end. It simply needed a more private venue. Perhaps a bed.