Written for Herbology Class (write about a friend or romantic partner giving someone flowers), Ship Till You Drop (Dean/Pansy), A Variety Of Prompts (Occasion: Valentines Day)

-oOo-

She was twenty four, gorgeous, caring, and totally leaving a trail of drool on his pillow. He couldn't help but laugh though as he careful rose from the bed. Slipping on a pair of boxers, he kissed her messy hair once before exiting the bedroom and into the short hall.

Their apartment was small, but that was how they liked it. He didn't need anything flashy or extreme, and she was more than happy to step away from the glamour and glitz of her youth. There wasn't much in the home, but what they had they cherished.

He'd forgotten to turn off the television the night before, some cartoon now playing across the scene. He clicked it off, remembering with a fond smile, the first time he'd introduced her to the Muggle device. She'd been startled at first, but adapted quickly. She was always adapting, always exploring and that was one of the things he loved about her.

A yawn overtook him as he entered the kitchen. It smelled slightly of bleach, and he remembered her moping the night before. He sniffed the air, amazed by how her cleanliness balanced out his natural clutter. Moving towards the fridge, he pulled out the carton of eggs and set them on the table, along with a tub of butter. He placed a skillet onto the stove, clicking the flames on before dropping some butter onto it. He cracked a couple eggs, setting to work on a scramble.

"You didn't have to put clothes on to make breakfast, Dean." Her voice came from the doorway, a hint of sleepiness to it, but mostly it was humor.

"Morning Pansy." He turned, smiling at her. She leaned against the table wearing his T-shirt, and only his T-shirt. Dean liked the sight. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Pansy let out a groan. "I thought we agreed to ignore this holiday."

"We did. But I wanted to do something special." Dean chuckled. He circles his arms around her, kiss her lips briefly. "You have morning breath."

She rolled her eyes as he stepped away. "Ever the romantic."

"You know it." He grabbed a fork from the counter, concentrating as he stored it behind his back. Bringing it back into view, he showed her the beautiful single rose.

"Wow." She whistled, taking the rose and smelling it. "Impressive. Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Its a secret." Dean replied.

Pansy pouted into the flower petals. "I don't have anything for you."

"That's fine." Dean stepped close, running a finger through her long black hair. "I have an idea."

"And what would that be?"

"You could just give me my shirt back." He tugged slightly at her sleeve. There was a playful glint to his eyes, and a grin to his lips. "Like right now. Take it off."

"But I like it." Pansy tossed over her shoulder as she moved to the counter. Pulling out a tall glass, she filled it with water, placed the rose in it, and set it all on the counter.

Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her hair. She was so short compared to him. "I like it better off you."

She turned, about to reply when the smell of smoke graced the air. They both turned silently to the burning eggs on the stove. Dean groaned as he broke away and tried to repair the ruined breakfast.

Pansy only sat on the counter, giggling at her boyfriend as he dumped the eggs into the trash. She ran a finger through the rose, smiling at its soft touch.