There's Something I've Been Meaning To Say

You had everything.

You had made sure to have flowers delivered for Weiss this afternoon. At the office. Because where else would she be. Just like she had been, for every other anniversary the two of you had.

The bottle of wine sits in a bag on the passenger seat of your car as you fight your way through traffic.

You were usually responsible for dinner plans. This year, you had been rushed for time. So you figured you would just make reservations someplace nice. Instead of trying to cook. Although, you always thought it was more intimate to cook.

But if traffic had anything to say about it, the two of you may not make that reservation.

You had sent a few texts, letting Weiss know that you'd left the office, and one to let her know that traffic was worse than usual. She hadn't answered, so you called, and got no answer. You figured it was safe to assume that she was either still at work herself, or that she was angry you were late.

Wouldn't be the first time work had kept you apart on an anniversary. One year, Weiss had gotten snowed in when she went to Atlas for a meeting. And the plane was unable to take off. To this day, she was still mad about it. The two of you had ended up having dinner via video chat. Which, while not the best scenario, was still okay with you. As long as Weiss was there in some capacity, you would be okay.

One of your favorite anniversaries had been when you were in college, and you had just moved in together. You had absolutely no furniture, nothing. Not even a lamp. So you ended up eating pizza by candlelight on the floor of your living room. Just the two of you.

It had been perfect. Even if it was a terrible fire hazard, in hindsight.

But now it had been nearly ten years. Not quite yet. But only another two years to go. Seemed like forever and an instant, all at the same time.

You didn't do gifts for anniversaries. It was too much back in college. Even though she had her family's money, and your parents would've helped you out in any way, the two of you refused to take financial help from anyone. So gifts just never quite made it into the budget. And the older you got, the more you realized the value of company over material possessions.

So no gifts. Just dinner. Flowers were the only thing you got away with.

Probably just because Weiss loved flowers. Even though you would like to believe it was because she just couldn't tell you no. But you knew that wasn't the case. Weiss Schnee never let you get away with anything. It was one of the things you loved most about her.

There were many, many things. Like how she touches her hair whenever she's nervous. Or how she can't leave any question without an answer. And how whenever she sits next to you, she always sits to your left. So that she can hold your hand under the table. The way she always sits as close as physically possible to you on the couch, and swears it's because she's cold.

After over an hour of struggling to get home through horrendous traffic, you open the garage door to find a pearl white car already in its spot. Weird. Weiss rarely ever gets home before you.

Even before you can grab your work bag and wine from the seat beside you, you can hear the muffled sound of an alarm.

As soon as you open the door separating you from the inside of your home, the sound magnifies itself immensely. It is also coupled with the continuous string of curse words that seem to originate from the kitchen. There's also a not so faint smell of burning food wafting down the hallway as you make your way to the source of the alarm.

Coming to a stop in the doorway of the kitchen, the sight before you is truly one to behold. Unable to be completely sure without gathering more details, it appears that Weiss was trying to cook… something. And was failing miserably.

There was smoke coming out of the oven. Something was boiling over on the stove. There was pasta. Cooked pasta. Just sitting on the countertop. Not in a bowl or on a plate. Just laying, right on the counter. If you had to guess, the fire alarm was going off due to the oven smoking.

Weiss was too busy frantically running back and forth between the stove, the oven and something she was compiling on the countertop to notice you had arrived.

"I know you aren't typically one to ask." She freezes at the sound of your voice. "But would you like some help?"

When she turns to fully face you, there are stains all down the front of her clothes. The kitchen itself, well there was basically just food everywhere. It was a mess.

"I'm making dinner." She holds up her hands as though showcasing her work.

"I can see that." You set down the wine and your bag and start to roll up your sleeves. "I can also smell it. And hear it." Pointing up to the alarm above you.

"Yes. I don't know how to stop that thing. It's been going off for over half an hour."

"Usually it stops when the fire and smoke dissipate." You crack a smile, unable to hide it any longer.

"Very funny. I got your flowers. They were lovely as always. Happy anniversary." She moves past you, placing a quick kiss to your cheek when she goes by. She grabs a dish towel and moves back to her place at the stove.

"So," carefully approaching, peering over her shoulder, "what's on the menu this evening, Chef Schnee?"

"Honestly, I don't know anymore. I left early today so that I could make us dinner. I had my assistant send me a recipe with very detailed instructions. But I seem to have come up short. I must've missed a step."

"Or twelve, it seems." You twist the knobs on the stove to turn off all the burners. No need to increase the likelihood of an actual fire.

"I tried." She places the dish towel on the counter and rests her head against the inside of her hand. "I just wanted to do something nice for you. Every year you get me flowers because I love them. And I know you love our dinners. So I thought I would try to cook for you."

"You know how they always say 'it's the thought that counts?" You nudge her before taking her right hand in your own and kiss the back of it lightly.

"Yeah."

"This is what they were referring to."

"Very funny." A slight smile begins in the corner of her mouth. "Guess we will just starve then."

"Well, we've missed the reservation I made by about an hour. So that's not an option anymore. But we are never out of options."

"You can't seriously think we can eat any of this."

You begin to carry as many of the pots and pans and utensils over to the sink as you can. Dropping them all down before turning on the hot water.

"Yeah no, we cannot eat any of this. But you know the rules, whoever doesn't cook does the dishes. So I'll make you a deal. You can grab my phone and order whatever you want to eat for dinner, and I will clean up this mess."

"You are too good to me. You know that?"

"I know right? It's weird. Almost like I love you or something."

"If I didn't know better, I would think you did."

"Oh, you wound me so." You hold your hand over your heart. "Now go order something so we get to eat some time this evening."

You shoo her out of the kitchen. And it takes you nearly an hour to clean up the wreckage that Weiss left behind. But it keeps you busy until the real dinner arrives.

"I figured we could do a blast from the past and have pizza." Weiss slides the box onto the table as you finally pull out a chair and sit down.

"Wine and pizza. My favorite."

"It is one of mine as well."

After you finish eating, the two of you are cleaning up your plates and glasses. You can't help but envelop her in a hug. And you don't want to let go. It's your favorite way to end your days.

"Happy anniversary, Weiss."

You let her go from your grasp and press a kiss to the side of her head before you start to make your way out of the kitchen.

"Oh wait, before I go," She looks up at you, surprised that you have more to say, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"That you love me, and that you couldn't imagine this world without me. Yes, I know."

"Well that too. But I was going to say, you have a noodle in your hair."

"A what?" Shocked, she begins running her fingers through her hair as you laugh.

"But also, I do truly love you. And if you plan on celebrating our anniversary in any way after this, outside of the kitchen, I need you to take all the pasta out of your hair."

"You let me walk around and eat dinner with you with a fully cooked noodle stuck to my hair! How dare you!" She finally finds the now mushy strand of pasta and flings it at you.

"It was only for a few hours. No big deal." You shrug your shoulders and wander out of the kitchen towards the bedroom.

"You're going to pay for this!" She yells after you.

"Oh, I hope I am."

You hope that you will have to pay for and deal with this for the rest of your life.