Disclaimer: Properties belong to Syfy and their unsurpassable imaginativeness in delivering truth to public worldwide. It would be my dream to be in possession of such powers. Maybe someday.

-x-

Pete was determined to drive Myka insane, she just knew it. He had made it his life-long mission to get under her skin and leave little indentations on her conscience. If he didn't leave her alone, she would be forced to use the Tesla – and do so with a great deal of relish.

"Myka, Myka, Myka! Come on! Whatcha get me, huh? Huh? Tell me, tell me, tell me! Myka! It's my birthday and you have to do everything I say, it's the rules! Myka, tell me what you got me, please!" Pete pulled out the Bambi eyes on the agent who was studiously ignoring him, focusing entirely on the thick, nameless, leather-bound book she had nestled on top of her thighs as she curled up by the fire.

Pete scowled and decided to take evasive action.

"Pete, give my book back." Myka glared, daring him to do otherwise.

But Pete was always up for annoying Myka. "Nope. Not 'til you tell me what you got me for my birthday. I know you went out earlier. It was for me, wasn't it? Come on, tell me. Birthday Rules."

Myka pushed back the urge to roll her eyes, "Your birthday isn't for another – what time were you born?"

"Um...around seven am."

"For another nine hours. Your official birthday isn't for another nine hours. Now give me back my book."

"So what? And no – you didn't answer my question."

"So, your 'Birthday Rules' don't apply until then. And I went grocery shopping for Lenna earlier."

Pete considered her words, huffed, threw the book down and sulked up to his room.

Myka permitted a small grin of victory as she opened the book up to her page and studied the text purposefully.

She was determined to succeed this time.

Eight-and-a-half hours later...

Pete woke up from his deep slumber, his sensitive nose picking up on something unusual, his spine tingling in an altogether unpleasant vibe.

Myka.

He shot out of bed like a bullet, jumping down the stairs in hate.

Myka. Where's Myka?

His nose led him to the kitchen which was filled with smoke.

He ran to the windows and threw them open, doing the same to the back door after ensuring that there wasn't a fire and turning the oven off.

"Myka?" He waved his hand in an attempt to remove the billowing smoke from his eyes, "Myka honey, where are you?"

A series of wheezes led him to squatting on the floor and lifting the kitchen table's cover.

There was Myka, curled up in a tight ball, shaking violently.

"Myka," He breathed in relief.

Myka's head lifted slowly, unsurely, until she caught sight of Pete. "Pete," she wheezed, throwing herself into his chest and causing the pair to collapse on the floor, Myka's arms encircling Pete's neck as his arms wound around her waist.

They stayed silent with the exception of Myka's occasional wheeze until she had stopped shaking, slowly removing her arms and going to get up before Pete pulled her tight against him.

"Oh no you don't,Mykie. Not unless you tell me what happened." Pete murmured into her smoke-filled hair.

Myka struggled for a short while before admitting defeat and placed her arms back around his neck, finding comfort in his heartbeat as she rested her head on his chest.

"I was trying to bake you cookies...but I failed miserably." She pouted slightly.

Pete repressed a chuckle, but couldn't keep the grin from transforming his face from concerned to happy.

This was short-lived as he recalled the state he had found her in, "And after?" He asked softly, gently massaging circles in to her skin.

Myka froze for a second before relaxing completely.

"When I was ten, my friend and I had this idea to bake a cake for Christmas. Alex's mom had ran next door to see a neighbour about carol singing...she warned us not to do anything, but we were impatient and Alex was so sure of herself: 'I've done this before, Myka. It's a piece of cake!' she had giggled.

"She sat on the counter to turn the hob on, but as she went to jump off, she hit her head on a shelf and a bottle of alcohol had smashed," she burrowed her head into Pete's shoulder, "I was lucky to be alive...Alex wasn't so lucky.

"The smoke, Pete...it was the smoke that scared me. I'm sorry, Pete. I'm so sorry."

Pete felt tears drop on to his neck and he pulled her head back, stroking the tears away with callused, yet tender fingers. He caressed her cheek as their eyes met.

"It's okay, Myka. You're safe now. I'm here, and I will always protect you."

"You will?" Myka bit her lip to prevent it from trembling.

"I'm your partner, of course I will." He cracked a grin, I'll even protect you from your atrocious baking skills."

Myka choked out a laugh and bent her head down, her lips meeting his, "Thank you, Pete. Happy birthday."

Pete was left stunned after the surprise kiss, but shook out of it when he heard the word 'birthday'.

"Myka..." He crooned, a sly smile sneaking across his features.

Myka's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "What?"

"Since it's my birthday, and in Ordinance with the Internationally Renowned Birthday Rules..."

"...Yes..."

"Kiss me!" Pete puckered his lips comically, eliciting giggles from Myka.

His pucker turned in to a pout, "Hey, I was serious!"

Myka bit her lip and smiled coyly, "As the birthday boy wishes."

"Oh, and Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Nice boxers."

"Tha-oh. Oops."

-x-

A.N: Hey all, forgive my lengthy absence, my procrastination linked with important occurrences and my laptop having been certifiably dead for the last few months (my music, my writings, my photos...-mourns-) has left for zero creative writing time, let alone any imagery to create anything substantial...you don't want to hear it.

This plot came to me after one of my failed attempts at cookie making during my newly found free-time.

I'm a muffin girl. Ask me to make muffins and I can promise you that you will adore them.

Enough of my modesty! ^^

Hope you enjoyed.

L
-x-