Author: SofaKing

Disclaimer: I won't say anything, for fear revealing my secret identity. Oh, shit.

Summary: "I'll be there for you every morning, 'cause I love you." A morning's excursion...

Rating: PG(-13, high)

Couple: It's a secret!

Genre: Humor/Romance, standalone

Title: "Here's To You, Sexy"

Feedback: You're opinion matters, really. Just not to me. Feel free, regardless.

A/N: Truly, truly sorry for this. I never expect you to read my work ever again, that's WAY too high of an expectation.

The morning is a beautiful time.

The way the gleaming sun accents my hair and features, the morning is almost as beautiful as I am.

But it can't really compare.

To expect it to is just, well, mean.

It's a long walk, to where I'm going, but for what the wait and walk are worth, it's less than a fraction of the cost that I should have to pay. There is a red carpet that should be placed out in front of my feet, there should be no dust on the floor. Not to sound conceited, but I think that everything around me should look as perfect as I do. And I know it's not right for someone so graceful as me to snort, but at that, I just did.

Me.

Conceited.

Ha! Oh, and there I just did it again, really, I do need to stop that. I'll become (only seemingly for a short period of time), dare I say it, unattractive.

Though I do doubt that anything so atrocious should happen to a being like myself, so high that, yes, I could nearly be God. And while I can't say I'll do as good a job as Him, I'd at least make Him look better to His fans, assuming He should still have any by now, wrinkled be His skin and His hair being so wiry and gray!

But, given the chance, I'm not sure I would accept.

Be God? How would that look for me, I mean 'cause then God would be me, right?

I couldn't do that to myself.

This carpet really is itchy. I need better socks.

I've almost reached my destination, when I realize...

I haven't brushed my teeth, or my hair, or cleansed my face, or gotten properly dressed. So I head back to my dresser, first.

Satin robe... No. Velvet robe... No. What to wear, what to wear? The most pressing matters of life. I finally throw on a golden silk robe.

Next, off to the bathroom.

Once I'm there, I immediately turn the mirror the other way and then brush my hair 'till it's as soft as my robe. Then I find my toothbrush and plop lethal amounts of toothpaste on it, enough for one to choke on, but teeth could never be too white. I pull out my beautiful, sleek, mahogany wand and charm the toothbrush into doing the work.

If the toothbrush were alive, I wouldn't need a wand to charm it.

Next I pulled out my forty-three-and-a-half container collection of facial creams and cleansers.

My skin is so nice, really, and I wouldn't need to do this, but my skin couldn't be too soft if it fell off my face as a liquid.

And my new diet is working out so well that I could probably walk on water. No wonder I know Jesus, though I hear he's going by Hey-suess these days. God I am so perfect.

Now I can continue along on my journey.

The journey hasn't gotten any shorter, though it may seem so for how long it's taken, and I must admit that I do think it would be fitting to have gotten closer over time.

My fans are waiting for me, but I have to get to my destination before they can see me.

My favorite place in the world, where the one I love rests waiting to see me again, like every morning.

I'm almost there, in my veiw lies my favorite person, place, anything in the world.

I knew that it needed me, too, so I assured it.

"I'll be there for you every morning, 'cause I love you."

And it was true, I do.

The shiny, hard surface reflected my beauty.

The only thing worthy of me.

Of course the only beauty that compares to mine is mirror that I am in.

What else would be?

I peck on a corner of my mirror and it says to me.

"I love you, too."

Summary, con't: ... To the mirror.

FIN