"Arthur, when is your birthday?"

Arthur blinks, the brush in his hand stilling as he registers the question. Boadicea knickers, tossing her head in displeasure at the interruption.

"I, uh…"

He didn't like to think of his birthday. Didn't like to celebrate it. It always heralded bad news. When he was younger, he remembers his mother giving him sweets from the general store. The money that later they could have been used to get her the medicine she needed. She died shortly after he turned six, his father dragging him away from the grave he had dug with his hands. He never celebrated it again.

His hand starts again, running it down the flank of his horse as he stalls.

"Why do you wanna know a thing like that?"

He glances over his shoulder at Mary-Beth, who gives him a wide grin. She bounces on the heels of her feet, unbothered by the smell of the horses in the makeshift stable they stood in.

"Oh, no reason really. I was just a bit curious as we celebrate everyone else's birthday but yours seems to be the only one we don't."

He nods his head turning back to the horse in front of him, eyes trained on the soft fuzz under his palms. It was understandable for her to be curious. She was the newest member of the gang and didn't know yet that he never celebrated his birthday. Hosea may give him something small, plants to make tonics with, a new fishing lure, a brand new hunting knife. Dutch would pat his shoulder and give him a hearty shake before offering him a shot of whiskey that he only drinks from on special occasions. But they never had a huge party like the one they had for Sean last week or Davey and Mac's joint party that had turned into a bar crawl and ended up with them all streaking through the empty streets. Grimshaw made sure to yell as loudly as possible the next morning, physically and vocally, showing her displeasure at their antics. Tilly gave him a cup of coffee spiked with some yarrow and a soft smile that made the pounding in his head lessen.

"I don't really celebrate it. Not much point for a man my age."

"Oh…"

He leaves it at that, hoping that she will drop it. But when he glances over his shoulder, she has a mischievous smile on her face and he knows that this isn't the end.

The next few days are strange to say the least.

Hosea gives him a look. It's one they perfected and used when Hosea was about to switch tactics with a particularly stubborn mark. When he passed the girls, Karen would give her usual smirk and teasing while Mary-Beth would nudge Tilly who looked disgruntled at best. When he would ask her if she was ok, she would nod and look away before changing the subject. They were all definitely up to something. Or maybe it was just Mary-Beth who was. Either way he was starting to get the feeling that in a few days time he's going to find out what it was exactly.

The day of his birthday was calm to say the least. On his night stand, was some gun oil and a new brush. As he drank his coffee, Tilly brushed against his side and gently presses a bundle of yarrow and prairie poppy into his hand. It had been tied together with twine, a small note sticking out from their fresh green stems.

"Thank you."

"It's not trouble, Arthur. I'll see you later?"

"Definitely."

He watches her leave, her skirt disappearing around the side of the meal wagon.

"Hey, Arthur, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Hosea."

He places the bundle in his satchel and starts his morning.

He wipes the last of the mud from his face and curses Trelawney under his breath for yet another idiotic scheme. He was supposed to be doing surveillance for Hosea and Dutch for their next robbery when he ran into Trelawney who promised him valuable intel if he could help him with something.

"Just a small matter, dear boy. Then I will send you on your way."

A small matter turned out to be that he had angered the wrong set of folks and Arthur had to take care of it. Which inevitably ended in a brawl, a chase and then Arthur having to hide from the law in a muddy ditch. Somehow through all of that Trelawney's suit stayed pristine. That is until Arthur had shook the dirt from his hair, making sure to shake it in Josiah's direction. He smiled, despite the bruise on his cheek, at the memory of his affronted expression as a huge glob of mud splattered across the expensive looking grey material.

"I'll send you the information soon," Trelawney said, his face screwing up in distaste and Arthur clapped his hand on his back with a big grin as more dirt transferred over.

He walked into camp, thinking about his warm bed and the stew he smelled riding in when Mary-Beth stepped in front of him practically vibrating with energy.

"Evening, Arthur!"

He goes to greet her, hand rising to tip his hat, when he is startled by her arms suddenly shooting out from her sides.

"Surprise!"

"What?"

He looks around her to see the gang all gathered around the fire. Some with smiles, some a little bit confused, but all happy to see him, beers and stew in all of their hands.

"What is this?"

"It's a birthday party! Well sort of a birthday party."

"Hosea and I talked her out of her original idea," Tilly said as she came up beside Mary-Beth, handing Arthur a bottle of whiskey and a bowl of stew. Mary-Beth pouts and nudges Tilly with her shoulder.

"Spoilsport. It was a great idea! Do you like it?"

"I- uh- I don't know what to say," Arthur murmurs.

He really didn't.

A part of him feels happy to have this, thankful even. But the other part of him, the scared six year old boy with dirt under his nails and a bruise on his face, feared this. Feared that it would all be taken away in the dead of night like his mother.

He watches Tilly laugh and smile with Mary-Beth. Their shoulders relaxed, eyes bright. He can't spoil their fun. Not with his hang-ups and insecurities.

"Yes. Thank you." And he means it.

"Good!" Mary-Beth shouts linking arms with Tilly who winks at him before they walk back towards the gang. A chorus of greetings and happy birthdays met him as he settled beside the fire.

In the darkness on the edge of camp he sits. A bottle of whiskey dangling from hand as he listens to the crickets chirp in the tall grass and the soft melody of music. A soft thread approaches his spot, coming to a stop on his right.

"Taking a break?"

He nods, head light and empty. Tilly's skirt brushes his arm and shoulder as she kneels down beside him, kicking her shoes off and stretching her legs. His arm comes up, automatically wrapping around her shoulders and drawing her into his side. Her arm wraps around his middle and they both sigh, content in each other's presence.

"What was her other idea?" Arthur murmurs, hand slowly rubbing her back and arm.

"Oh, she wanted to have everyone hide and then pop up and yell surprise. I told her that was likely to get someone shot like last time."

"It was just one time," Arthur grumbles, turning his body slightly towards her.

"John couldn't sit down for a week," she chuckles, nuzzling her face into his chest

"I still say he deserved it. Actually, I think he needs another one."

Tilly hums, shaking her head. They sit under the stairs, content and warm from the food and drink in their systems. And Arthur can't believe how happy he is at this moment. He wants to stay in this moment forever.

"Happy birthday. I love you," she whispers, softly cupping his cheek, her lips softly grazing his skin.

"I love you," he whispers back, his lips meeting hers.