Title: Always My Valentine

Author: Patrick

AN: Ok, in case you didn't see, I uploaded the wrong document the first time (I'm an idiot) for part one, so if you haven't checked out the updated version, you should read that first. I also said this would be a two-parter. Unfortunately it hasn't panned out that way, so I guess were looking at three parts. Oh well!

Part Two

The clamor of pots and pans filled the kitchen and poured outward into the living room, accompanied by the smell of fresh cooking. The resident chef looked down at his watch: It was 5:30, which meant he had a full half an hour before his girls were expected home. He snickered proudly as he noted that he was a little ahead of schedule. The fact had no practical worth in the situation but to Ross, the small matter of self-satisfaction was sufficiently pleasing. After giving each pot and pan a quick once-over, he knelt down and opened a cupboard. He surveyed the assemblage of glassware for a moment before selecting an elegant vase. After fifteen minutes of trimming stems and meticulous arranging, the work was one sprig of baby's breath away from being complete.

"There," he said, satisfied that he'd found the perfect spot to intertwine the white flora into his arrangement. Ross studied the fruits of his labor scrupulously for several silent moments, probing relentlessly for any flaws. There were none; the flowers were just the right match for their recipient: Perfect.

He carried his bouquet into the living room and set them down in the middle of the table where she'd be sure to notice them. Roses weren't her favorite flower, he mused, but his romantic heart dictated that there would be no sentiment lost in following the Valentine's Day cliché. And the fact that they were different added a certain bit of explanation to his approach. Ross knew she would have loved a bouquet of lilies just as much (if not more), but he knew that this was the one day to mix it up. He knew that by the time a few years had passed, he'd have bought her enough lilies in his lifetime for the occasions to run together. After all, what stands out more in a garden of white lilies than a red rose?

The gesture was standalone and simple. There could be no candlelight these days; Emma was too mobile and too into testing her limits to risk it. It was worth the sacrifice, however. A quiet family evening at home was all Ross really wanted anyway. Taking a quick and final glance around, Ross confirmed that everything was in order. He shuffled back into the kitchen to make the final dinner preparations. Once that was accomplished, all he could do was wait.

-

Rachel lugged Emma up the stairs of her apartment building, thankful that her daughter had dozed off on the way home. When awake, the little explorer had a thing for climbing the stairs on her own, which wouldn't be so bad if only one ascent was enough to satisfy her young, adventurous spirit. If Emma had it her way, Rachel pondered, there would be no flat ground anywhere. After a few more yards she had reached her door. She stood for a few moments rifling through her pocket for her key. A single key had a way of hiding in Rachel's pocket at times, but she'd learned a few weeks after becoming a mother that making certain keys more easily accessible paid off. She found it after a moment, withdrew it from her pocket, and inserted it in the lock. As the large frame of the door swung open, Rachel's nostrils were immediately filled with the delightful smells of fresh cooking. She couldn't nail down the menu, but was immediately filled with the anticipation of finding out. She started to smile and then froze in her tracks when the door opened fully.

The smells and sounds coming from the kitchen aside, the apartment was still, quiet, and pristine. The apartment was dim; a single desk lamp cast a meager amount of light from its place on the end-table and some light from the city poured in through the window. There was a very welcoming feeling that hung in the air, as if the walls themselves were anticipating her arrival. And on the table, right in the center of it all as if thrust forth from the palm of nature herself, was a bouquet of a dozen, long-stemmed, red roses, in front of which was a small white card. She approached the table, admiring the different dimensions of beauty that came into focus with each step she took. She let her purse slide off her shoulder and down her arm until the strap passed over her hand and the bag dropped on the couch. With Emma still nuzzled against her shoulder, she reached the table and picked up the card. On it, Ross's handwriting read:

Rachel-

Twenty years ago I dreamt of being your Valentine. I never knew anything could be so worth waiting for. Thank you for teaching this man of science that dreams really do come true.

All my love, always,

Ross

Rachel stood in silence and stared blankly at the words scrawled on the little card for a few moments. Not only did she feel touched by the sentiment of his words, but she found herself in agreement with them. Of course it hadn't been entirely a matter of waiting, per se— they fought like hell to make their relationship work at times— but Rachel knew better than to take the expression literally. Before she had time to formulate her reaction, she heard the hinges of the kitchen door as Ross's figure pushed it open. She turned to him, still holding the card, and grinned.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he whispered, noticing that Emma was fast asleep on her mother's shoulder. He leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead, but before his lips could hit their mark, Rachel tilted her head up and forced her lips to his. He moaned slightly in surprise before he melted into it. The kiss was slow, tender, and incredibly sexy. He reveled in the taste and softness of her lips as she got drunk on his irresistible scent. Exerting every last bit of restraint in his body, Ross pulled away.

"I think we should put Emma down first," he suggested breathily, feeling nearly ashamed that his control was slipping away so rapidly. Rachel arched an eyebrow and smiled seductively before sauntering off towards their bedrooms. Once she'd disappeared from sight, Ross darted into the kitchen to extinguish the burners on the stove. If things were going the way he thought, dinner would have to be put on hold.