So this started as a birthday drabble for Dilicous on Tumblr and I decided to flesh it out just a little bit to make it more of a fluffy oneshot. This takes place sometime between Going South and Fish Filet, in my eyes it happened over the summer when Walter was hospitalized and the team was taking a break.
"You're a couple minutes late today."
Her smile was easy, her tone light and teasing, so Sylvester's anxiety at being late evaporated - some. He scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah. There was a bit of a scuffle on the bus. It got pretty wild. I predictably was not involved."
Megan giggled, folding her arms. "Still, I'm glad you are here in one piece. Those bus scuffles, man, they can be…"
"Now, you stop making fun of me," Sylvester said, coming over to the bed and leaning over her, a hand on the mattress on either side of her body, and she twisted onto her side as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, her giggles filling the room. Shifting his weight to one hand, Sylvester tickled her lightly, and she shrieked with laughter. After a moment, Sylvester stopped, and she rolled slowly back onto her back, smiling up at him. "I made ya somethin'."
"Oh yeah?" He smiled affectionately. "What might that be?"
"Let me up," she said, grinning, her lower lip tucked under, "and I might tell you. Or show you, rather."
Sylvester settled on the edge of the bed, a hand resting on her ankle as she reached behind her. "Ugh, see, I hid it, and now..." she wiggled, scooting farther up the bed so she could reach what she was looking for.
"Do you need help?"
"Nope!" She said cheerily, shifting back into a secure position on the bed, a poster tube in her hand. She extended it, offering it out to her boyfriend.
Sylvester took it hesitantly, smiling at her excited grin. "It's a poster?" He popped the end and slid out what was inside. Megan's eyes lit up in anticipation as he unrolled it.
Super Fun Guy, in acrylic paint, stared up at him, in his classic superhero stance, complete with his glasses, flowing yellow cape, springs on his boots, and the rubber chicken tucked into his belt. At first glance it looked flawless; at a closer examination he noticed the signs that it was created by someone with a slightly shaky hand. The lines weren't completely straight. The comics themselves had next to no shading, but he could see imperfections in the thickness of the paint. Despite the imperfections, it had clearly been made with painstaking dedication. He looked up at Megan, knowing the answer to his question by her excited, hopeful expression. "Did you do this?"
She nodded.
Sylvester smiled, looking back down at the painting, and then he stood up, leaning over her again and kissing her, gently but soundly, on the lips. "I love it, Meg."
"Really?" She said, smiling broadly. "Really, you do?"
"I do." Sylvester lowered himself again, this time perched on the edge of the mattress between her bent knees and her stomach as she wiggled onto her side. He rested a hand on her arm, just above the elbow. "Where do you think I should display it?"
"Hmmmm." She thought, tapping her fingers against the comforter. "Above your computer at your apartment. No! That space on the wall in your bedroom between the window and the corner."
Sylvester raised his eyebrows. "I would have thought that you'd have already thought of the perfect place for me while you were making this."
"I did," Megan said. "Either above the computer at your apartment or on that space on the wall in your bedroom. I just can't decide which idea I like better. Take it home and hang it in both places and then decide. And send me pictures."
"So you can approve?"
She nodded. "Exactly."
He rolled his eyes. But he knew she knew he wasn't annoyed.
