Author's Note: As "The Right Tool For The Right Job" got a lot of good comments on my LJ, I wrote a sequel...or rather prequel to it. Silly little oneshot. Again slight Stephen/Ryan.

For the want of a utensil

Happy birthday dear Tom! Happy birthday to you!

The candles were lit and blown out. There was a round of applause.

"Time to cut the cake!" said Cutter patting the Captain heartily on the back.

"Yeah!" Connor clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully. "I'm starving!"

Abby clipped him round the ear.

"Patience!" she said, smirking. "Besides, it's Ryan's cake! Not yours!"

"Did you make a wish?" asked Stephen, his voice low in whisper in Tom's ear.

Ryan smiled. He had made a wish all right and if it came true then he would be out of here as soon as possible and at last he could be alone with Stephen.

It was nice to be with his friends, but he hadn't planned on a party for his birthday. He never much cared for them, mainly because he never had them before. It was a little discomforting and more than frustrating having them fuss about him so.

"Okay…Captain. Are you going to cut the cake?" asked Claudia.

"With what?" Ryan looked down at the table. There was no knife.

"Does anyone have a knife?" asked Claudia again, looking round the whole room.

There was a chorus of "no" and then silence. Ryan sighed and for the sake of his friends he mentally rolled his eyes so only he knew how frustrated he was. Their voices all began to speak at once and created the exact kind of hubbub Ryan didn't want to experience. A slight headache began to form, niggling at the back of his mind.

"Nick, I thought you brought a knife."

"Obviously I didn't bring one, Claudia! Connor…did you bring a knife?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"Abby?"

"I brought the cake."

"So no one thought to actually bring a knife to cut the cake? Oh that's just great! Stephen?"

"It's a funny thing. For the first time I don't actually have one on me."

"So how are we going to cut the cake? Can we go and get one?"

"We have legs don't we? The kitchen's not that far."

"Well done, Connor, for volunteering."

"What? How was that volunteering?"

"Can someone please get a knife? It doesn't have to be Connor!"

"I'll go!"

"No I'll go!"

"Does it take more than one person to fetch a knife? Seriously?"

"No. Connor was going to get it."

"I didn't volunteer!"

"It quite simple, someone goes to the kitchen, opens the draw, picks a knife and brings it back here to cut the cake!"

"And that's stopping you from getting it, how, Nick?"

"Fine! I'll go and get the knife!"

"So I don't have to go then?"

"No Connor, Professor Cutter is getting the knife."

"I can go and get it if you want."

"No thank you Stephen, I am capable of getting it."

"Can you actually go now and get the knife?"

"Do you know, if someone had gone earlier, we would already have a knife?"

"But we don't have one, why even point that out, Connor?"

"I'm just saying! If we hadn't all been arguing about who would go and get the knife and actually went and got one, we wouldn't be arguing about who would go and get the knife! Right?"

"If we had brought one in the first place…"

"Are you saying it's my fault now?"

"No, Abby….I'm not. I merely saying that if the knife was on the same plate as the cake then…"

The gun was in Ryan's hand before anyone could notice and then he let off three shots into the birthday cake that Abby had made. The cake sprayed everywhere and over everyone and the room was plunged into silence.

Somehow…the headache seemed to have stopped. Ryan smiled.

"Much better."