This is one of five one-shots written as part of a Holiday Specials incentive that is severely lacking due to my busy school schedule. Normally, these specials are wordpress-only, but I feel that not many know about them and given that I haven't updated for several weeks, I thought it would be a good idea to bring them over for everyone that hasn't read them to get a chance to do so.

Do consider these AU despite occurring in the same universe as the stories from which they are derived. I generally like to consider a lot of these "what if" scenarios, but a lot of them can fit within the stories (however, I can't add them for craft reasons).

I have also chosen to post them separately from the related stories because it would be too strange to have a sudden break in between events, so I hope you don't mind this.

That said, I hope you enjoy reading them (or this). Also, future specials will be posted as follow-up chapters to their respective entries.

Story: Firestarter

Pairing(s): Roy|Cecilia

Word Count: 2115

Rating: T

Summary: Roy and Cecilia discuss Valentine's Day.

Author's Comment: Title and summary changed because these two do whatever they want. I just want them to be like this in Firestarter! They're killing me right now.

Originally posted on February 14, 2015. Written as a Valentine's Day special.

Chocolates, Flowers, or Jewelry?

"Chocolates, flowers, or jewelry?" asked Roy from his languid seat on the couch. He was draped over it, looking quite appealing with his booted feet kicked up on the coffee table, his blue jacket cast aside and his button down shirt undone a few buttons on the rare occasion that he wore no undershirt. His elbow was propped up on one of the couches' arms, his hand curled into a fist underneath his cheek.

Cecilia hummed, determined to ignore his appearance when she raised her eyes to him from her seat at the table. "What are you saying?"

"What do you prefer? Chocolates, flowers, or jewelry?" he repeated.

"What's the occasion?"

Roy arched an eyebrow with a hint of skepticism. "Valentine's Day."

"Oh, I don't celebrate that." She turned away from him to continue writing down the ingredients she would need to make dinner for Barbara's upcoming birthday party.

"You've never had a man around this time?" asked Roy dubiously.

"No, I usually dump them before Christmas," answered Cecilia. "There is something about the holidays that just oozes serious commitment. Actually, anything beyond the three week period just makes me shudder."

"And yet, here you sit, living in my house, off my paycheck, warming my bed, and proclaiming your love for me on a daily basis," he said pointedly. "We celebrated Christmas, Cee."

"I am not living off your paycheck," she corrected. "I make my own money."

"But you are living in my house, warming my bed, and proclaiming your love for me daily," he stated.

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Do you want me to cook you a fancy dinner? Should I go out shopping for nice lingerie?"

Roy put his feet down and sat upright. "That would be nice."

"And throw rose petals on the floor and light a few candles to set the mood?" she continued sarcastically.

"Yes, and maybe, maybe you can let me drink wine off your stomach," he added, a sly smile curved his lips. "Eat cake off your breasts? Maybe you can lick syrup off my—"

"We are not doing any of those things with food," she interrupted.

He left his seat and strolled to her side, putting both hands on her shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her ear. "Perhaps," he whispered, "you can strip and wait for me at the door naked when I get home."

She shrugged. She could do that. Sounded easy to do if he really wanted to celebrate the stupid holiday.

"With rose petals, candles, and grapes ready in the bedroom." He kissed her cheek lightly, but she ignored his advances, carrying on with her list. "Sound good?"

"Truthfully, I didn't peg you for such a romantic," she admitted, looking over her shoulder at him. "That's so gross it's cute."

He frowned. "Of course, I'm romantic. You'd notice if you paid attention."

"Romantic was the last thing you ever wanted to be with me"—at first sight of his disapproval, she added quickly—"oh, don't make that face, it's the truth." She shrugged his hands off. "I need to get back to this list. I have to make sure I get all the ingredients down. I don't want to come home after buying everything to realize I forgot something. Do you know how frustrating that is? I don't have it in me to deal with that stress along with Barbara's nagging."

Roy took the pen from her hand.

"Hey!" she protested.

"So pick one and we'll be done—chocolates, flowers, or jewelry?"

Cecilia sighed. He wouldn't let her get away with not choosing any of the options and she didn't want to be the type of girlfriend that expected to be showered with gifts. She didn't want to be demanding. She wanted this relationship to be different from the others, so she took special care of it in the hopes that her efforts shaped it for the long term. She needed to avoid answering that question.

She grinned up at him. "Surprise me."

"Touché, Cee."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm going to take a bath." He walked towards the short hallway to the bathroom where he stopped, turning the lights on as he glanced at her. "Do you want to join?"

She shook her head. "I'm busy."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"I'll wash your hair for you."

She pushed her chair back, it scrapped loudly across the floor, and she followed Roy into the bathroom. She wouldn't turn that down and he knew it.

Cecilia kept her eyes closed as Roy's fingers lathered the sweet scented shampoo into her hair. She sat between his legs with hers drawn up to her chest and her fingers drumming over her knees.

"Do you want to do something for the fourteenth?" she asked, relaxing the tension in her shoulders as he massaged the shampoo into her scalp. He was definitely spoiling her and he knew it. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"I know a good restaurant," he said, removing his hands from her hair to pour water over her head. It took another dunk of water to wash the soap from her hair.

She reached for a damp washcloth hanging off the tub's edge and used it to dry her face, opening her eyes. She gathered all of her hair and wrung the water from it.

"A restaurant?"

"We've never gone to a restaurant for dinner," he pointed out. "I think it's about time we did unless you plan to be picky about the food."

"I'm not picky about food."

"Right," he started sarcastically. "You're picky about the preparation of food. I forget."

"Only because it's important to prepare food in the correct manner and under the right circumstances," she said defensively. "You can't just throw bread and ham together and call it a sandwich, it doesn't work like that."

"That's exactly how it works."

"It's all in the ingredients. Fresh ingredients are very important."

Roy took her shoulders and pulled her back flat against his chest before leaning against the other end of the tub.

"I'll save you the trouble of standing vigil at the restaurant's kitchen to make sure our food is prepared to your standards and think of something else to do."

"I don't have standards! If the food is good, then I'll eat it and I won't have a problem with it!"

He wrapped an arm loosely around her neck, resting his hand on her shoulder. "We could go somewhere, a vacation of sorts," he started. "Not on the fourteenth, but next week. We could spend an entire week together not worrying about anything."

"It must be nice being able to dump all of your work on your subordinates and take a few days off, but I don't have the luxury of having underlings," she remarked, raising her right leg over the surface of the water, the surface rippling, and set it against the other end of the tub. "I don't get to go up to my boss and ask him to give me the week off. Do you know how much groveling it took for me to get this job? I'll have you know that I don't make it a habit to do any groveling under any circumstances. I wouldn't feel right asking for time off."

"I can't imagine you groveling," he mused.

Cecilia jerked around to face him. There was a smug look about him, his dark hair smoothed back and a lopsided smile on his lips. "Don't you dare imagine that!"

"Why would I have to imagine that? Now that I think about it you do plenty of groveling when I don't let you come."

"Oh?" She turned around completely, rising on her knees. She took his face into her hands, making him tilt his head back as she lowered her mouth to his. "Do I?"

He tried to close the distance between them, but she moved her thumb across his lower lip, stopping him. "You can sleep on the couch for that," she told him with a charming smile. "You know I don't like to feel embarrassed."

Roy lowered his eyes to her naked chest. "I would never have guessed."

"I'm getting out." She stood and stepped out of the tub, the water sloshing. She grabbed a towel on the way out, wrapping it around her as she walked across the hallway to their bedroom.

Cecilia was pulling out a new change of clothes when she heard Roy's footsteps nearing. He entered the room, approaching her side by their drawers.

"We could stay here for the fourteenth," said Roy, opening the top drawer and rummaging through it before shutting it, keeping on hand behind his back. "Better than a restaurant, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'll be fine with whatever you decide to do." She smiled. "Surprise me."

Roy frowned. "I'm not going to dump you if you ask for anything."

"Nobody said that," she said defensively. Her voice came out a little alarmed by the accusation. "I'm not worried about being dumped."

"You underestimate my feelings for you, Cee," he accused, drawing her to him. "So long as you are not draining my bank accounts, sleeping with sleazy bartenders, or writing a tell all novel about my secret plans, you can be sure that I have no intention of breaking up with you."

Cecilia maintained her cool, despite her reddened cheeks. "You mean to say I can sleep with every other bartender, just not the sleazy ones."

"No, cheating is completely banned."

She lowered her eyes to her feet, but he raised her face by the chin.

"Stop worrying about it." He kissed her chastely. "Good. Do you feel better now?"

She nodded. It was reassurance enough to quell her insecurities.

"Here then," he said, presenting her with a small velvet box he pulled from behind his back. She hesitated, looking from it to his face. "Take it."

Cecilia picked it up. "What is it?"

He grinned. "You wanted to be surprised, didn't you?"

She opened the box, dazzled instantly by the pearl earrings sitting inside. She lifted her eyes, her heartbeat quickened. "Chocolates, flowers, or jewelry?"

"There's more, but you'll have to wait," he said. "Who knows where you'll find another gift." He took one of the pearl earrings from the box and held it up against her ear, looking at it analytically. "I was right, pearls do suit you." The blush on her cheeks slowly spread over the rest of her face. "Even when you're all red it suits you."

Cecilia covered her face with her hands, completely embarrassed by her reaction. "Thank you."

"There is plenty of more jewelry I thought might suit you, but you'd have to come with me," he commented, prompting her to drop her hands. "So? How does this weekend sound? We can find you a nice necklace to go with that, unless you find one around the house one of these days, then we'll just have to get you a bracelet."

"You didn't have to give me anything—"

"I wanted to," he interjected. "I doubt you ever believe a word I'm saying when I proclaim my love for you."

She shook her head, laughing at his playful tone. "I don't."

"Well, you're going to have to get used to being spoiled," he stated. "I understand that you haven't been so fortunate as to have such a handsome, generous boyfriend that is willing to do this much for you, but you'll have to get used to it, as I have gotten used to the idea that I only want to love you."

Cecilia wrapped her hand over the nape of his neck and kissed him. He pressed his hand against the small of her back, pulling her body flush against his.

"I'm not good with gifts," Cecilia admitted, breaking apart to breath. "The watch I bought you for Christmas was Barbara's idea. I had her ask Mr. Fig what men liked as presents."

"I love the watch, Cee," he told her, their noses brushing lightly. "It doesn't matter where you got the idea when the thought was there."

"For Valentine's Day, you'll have to be okay with just me as your gift," she said, noting a glint in his blue gaze. "I'm afraid I'll be too busy to look for anything appropriate to buy you because of Barbara's dinner. I still have so much to do and—"

He pressed his forefinger against her lips, silencing her. "You don't have to get me anything. I just want to spend the day with you, romantic or not."

She embraced him, nodding and feeling fortunate to have met him that awful night at the bar.