A little birthday gift for my dear Aunt Lisa, aka disturbingclarity over on Tumblr. Happy Birthday, dear! I hope it's been great. Now prepare yourself for that rare moment when I write something cavity-inducing and no one dies. Seriously. This is the depth of my love for you, dearest. I wrote you unrepentant fluff. Enjoy, everyone!

Of Gifts and Guests, Flowers and Fun

It was four am when Sharon's phone woke her.

Even now, when the phone ringing in the middle of the night was not an unusual occurance, her heart pounded and she sat bolt upright and pulled her cell phone from the bedside table, she did not glance at the caller ID as she pressed the phone to her ear, trying to sound alert and calm.

"Captain Raydor."

A cacophony of pounding sounded at the door at the same moment, startling her again. She heard Rusty fly across the hall to her room, his own distressed knocks joining the others.

"Sharon, there's someone at the door, come quick!"

With absolutely no inkling of what on earth was happening, she flew out of bed, phone still to her ear as she strained to hear over the cacaphony.

Whomever was calling her at this hour also seemed to be surrounded by noise. Sharon could barely make out a voice.

"Sharon, you changed the locks without telling me? Go open the damn door!"

Still utterly bewildered, she opened her bedroom door first to reveal a panicked-looking Rusty. She placed her free hand comfortingly on his shoulder, walking towards the door with him as she half-yelled into the phone over the sound of the unrelenting pounding at the front door.

"Who is this?!"

Next to the door now, she could hear the voice coming from both the phone in her hand and through the door.

"Hell, Sharon. It has not been that long. It's Tara. Now let me in for Christ's sake!"

The pounding finally stopped, and Sharon ended the call, chuckling to herself in delight and a little exasperation. She looked over at Rusty, her hand still on his shoulder by the door.

"It's okay. She's a friend." She waited until he nodded, then finally pulled open the door to reveal Tara.

"Happy Birthday!" Tara shouted excitedly, ploughing through the pajama-clad Sharon and into the apartment. "I know, I know. I should have called. Well-sooner. In fairness, I did call. Because my damn key wouldn't work! But if I'd called it would have ruined the surprise and oh goodness you must be Rusty! I've heard such good things!"

Tara had finally caught sight of Rusty next to Sharon. Sharon thought she could see that familiar internal struggle behind his eyes. He wanted to run. But he wasn't. He was hanging in there, pajamas and all.

"Hi," he said. Sharon squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Rusty, this is Tara Greene, one of my oldest friends. Tara, Rusty." Finally she turned to Tara and dropped her hand from Rusty. "You should have called," she said smiling in spite of herself. She pulled Tara in for a long hug. "And do you always have to scare me half to death in the middle of the night?"

Tara grinned as they broke apart. "Yes. It's worth it for the look on your face."

Sharon rolled her eyes and looked over at Rusty who was staring at the two of them with the oddest look on his face. Almost embarrassed, like maybe he had caught her doing something she shouldn't, but still rather amused in spite of himself.

"What?"

He smirked a little.

"Nothing. So umm, if you're good, I'm gonna go back to sleep. It's like, four in the morning. And I have stuff to do tomorrow."

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "'stuff'?"

"Yes. Stuff. Secret stuff. And you say secrets are cool at Christmas and birthdays, and this qualifies. So don't even think about giving me that look." He turned on his heel and left them both in the living room.

"I like him," Tara said in the ensuing silence.

The look meant for her now-unavailable son was now directed at Tara.

"Don't give me that look either!" She picked up her duffel and started heading down the hall. "You just don't like being caught in one of your own rules. Now come on. I'm not sleeping on the couch. We're gonna have to pile up in your room this time!"

Sharon shook her head with a smile and followed her back.

Sharon woke a few hours later, Tara's hair spread out over Sharon's face. The woman couldn't be small and insignificant if she tried. Tara was still snoring loudly, limbs spread out in every direction, nearly pushing Sharon off the side of the bed. Sharon swung her legs over onto the floor quietly. She could hear activity out in the other room, and she glanced at the clock as she pulled on her house sweater and slipped out the door. 9:34 am. Thank goodness it was Saturday.

As she suspected, Rusty was in the kitchen, and something smelled glorious.

"Good morning, Rusty."

He turned when he heard her. "Morning. Happy Birthday."

Sharon smiled in thanks and patted his cheek affectionately, looking around at what he was making. "Thank you, honey. You didn't have to do all this!"

The kettle whistled at her words, and he turned, pouring the water into her teapot and setting it on the bar for her.

"Um, actually I sorta did. It's your birthday. Andy Ricky and Emily couldn't make it, even when I begged and told them if they didn't come you'd write them out of the Will. So I had to do something. And there's other stuff too. So go sit over there with your tea. The food is almost ready.

Before Sharon had had time to do more than perch on one of the bar stools while Rusty continued to move around the kitchen, Tara made her presence known.

"Oh my God, Sharon. He cooks for you? I knew I should have had kids."

Sharon choked a little on her tea and turned in her seat to face Tara, striding across the living room toward them.

"Tara, you hate babies. And they don't all turn out this nice." She winked at Rusty as Tara perched next to her. "Ricky and Emily have...other nice attributes. Cooking is not one of them."

Tara snorted. "Remember that time they got me to eat dirt? Actual dirt. It was not chocolate!"

Sharon could see Rusty's shoulders shaking with laughter at that one, his back to them.

"Come on," he said, finally turning, two plates in hand. "You did not fall for that one. It's the oldest trick in the book! Even I pulled that one on Sharon!"

Tara looked confused for a second as Rusty put a plate of food in front of her.

"Oh. I meant the other Sharon. Not, um…" He looked at Sharon for a long moment. "Well, uh, not my Mom here."

There was an awkward pause, Sharon not wanting to ruin the moment, Tara not really sure what to say, and Rusty just shifting nervously on his feet.

Finally, Sharon looked down at the plate in front of her. A single pancake, with a little half an omelette that looked like it might have some spinach and feta in it, and some sliced fruit next to that. A perfect, beautiful plate of food.

"Wow, Rusty. This looks wonderful!"

"Yeah, kid. If I had known my visits would be catered, I'd have come sooner!"

The morning had passed amiably enough, Rusty slowly getting comfortable with Tara in the apartment, the two of them trading "Funky Sharons" as Tara had taken to calling them, stories in which Sharon always came out seeming awkward or finicky. And Sharon did not really mind so much.

It was two in the afternoon now, though, and Rusty seemed to have something planned for them. At this point, Tara seemed to be in on it all, and she forced Sharon to change twice into something more appropriate.

"It's your birthday, not a business dinner. Go put on something FUN!"

Sharon and Rusty shared a look of equal exasperation as Tara sent her back the second time.

"For the record, I thought you looked great the first time, Mom," Rusty called after her.

She smiled in spite of her exasperation. He had not called her 'Sharon' all day.

Finally emerging in a pair of jeans and a casual button-down, Tara seemed satisfied.

"You are not driving, young man. Unless you've learned the proper use of that thing on the steering column, oh what do you call it? I've forgotten…"

Rusty nudged her with his elbow into the elevator as she trailed off. "Chill. That was like, a year ago. I know how to use a blinker now. Besides, you don't even know where we're going." He held out a hand. "Keys, please."

Reluctantly, Sharon passed them over. She turned to Tara. "But you're sitting in the back. ALONE." She gave Tara what Rusty liked to call her patented Look Of Doom.

"Ah, the back seat. Such memories!"

"Uh-uh. We are not telling that story today. Now hush."

Rusty did drive carefully in her car, to his credit. And Sharon realized where they were going not too long into the long drive, but it was nice to be driven. When they arrived at the public pier, it was still the afternoon, but the boardwalk was sparsely populated at this time of year, and it was a lesser-known pier anyway. That's why she liked it. She had brought Rusty out here the first weekend they had been together, and he seemed to love it as much as she did.

As they got out of the car, Rusty told Sharon and Rusty to go ahead, he had to get something and he would catch up with them.

Tara slung an arm over Sharon's shoulders as they slowly walked out toward the water, past a few shops and booths along the way.

"So tell me," Tara began, serious for the first time since her arrival, "how did this kid get to know more of you in three years than I learned in the first ten?"

Sharon smiled, shaking her head. "Oh, you know…"

"I don't, actually, Shar. That's why I'm asking."

"I don't really know, to be honest. We're similar creatures in ways I don't think either of us expected. We were just what the other needed at the right time. He's a very special young man, and I'm just lucky he let me in." Sharon stopped, looking out over the water, hers and Tara's merged shadow stretching out across the waves. "I'm glad you're here now. I like seeing you two together. I like the idea that he might have someone else to talk to...when he has questions. He can be a little funny about men still, you know?"

Tara grinned. "Don't worry. I'll set him up with a good Pride march. Ginger's still around, you know. Maybe I can get her to dump a tub of glitter on his head, too!"

"Come on, Tara. I'm serious."

Tara squeezed her shoulder, half hugging her. "I know. I've got it. Don't worry."

Sharon turned away from the water as she heard footsteps behind her. Rusty was catching up, a wrapped package in one hand and a small bunch of flowers in another. When he reached them, he held out the flowers a little awkwardly, not quite looking her in the eye. "Happy Birthday."

She smiled happily and took them from him. "Thank you, honey. They're beautiful!"

The three of them settled on a bench looking out over the water, Sharon sitting between the two of them.

"Before the kid gives you his gift and officially becomes the better gift-giver in this situation, I just thought I'd say that dinner is at 7 just down the road, and it's on me."

"Oh thank you, Tara. You didn't have to do that."

"Would you stop saying that? Now let the kid give you your present."

Rusty had not wrapped it himself, that much she could tell as she pulled the paper apart on her lap, finally revealing a book, her favorite, Wuthering Heights.

"It's beautiful, Rusty, thank you."

"It's not a first edition. I know it's your favorite, and the guy in the shop said he could get one, but I couldn't afford it. But this one is, like, really cool he said. It was printed in this little shop in England in 1916. Somebody bought it back then, but then he like, died or something in France during the war, and all his stuff got shipped off to family and left up in an attic in this old house in, like, Boston I think? Anyways, like a few months ago this guy is going through his grandmother's house after she died, and he finds it, brings it out here after a while and sells it to this bookseller guy a couple blocks away. And like...I dunno. It seemed like a good story. And it's your favorite book."

Sharon smiled as he finally trailed off. She lifted a hand and brushed his hair away from his eyes a bit and nodded.

"It is a good story. A very good story."