The Birthday Gift 2

Author's Note: Not sure the following would've ever happened; but since the show and its characters are fictional, no matter how real they seem, and we didn't get this when it was on air, I thought I'd throw it out there anyway.

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Cautiously, Dom, with Caitlin close behind him, approached the door, scanning the immediate area of the cabin for any sign that someone, or something, besides Stringfellow, was there. They saw nothing.

As they approached the front door, they noticed that it was slightly ajar. Dom, threw out his arm, pushing Cait further behind him. But Cait had come too far and worried too much, to be held back and she surged forward, past Dom, and into the cabin.

Though the fireplace was cold, the room was still aglow with soft candlelight from the many candles set in various places around the main room. Soft music, too soft to be heard outside, was playing and a large bouquet of flowers was sitting in a vase on the bar.

Cait stopped dead in her tracks, looking around her and turning back to see Dom coming in. The expression on the older man's face, however, was not what she expected. He had a smile on his lips and the happiest expression she could remember seeing. "Dom?"

"SURPRISE!"

Caitlin jumped and turned to see Hawke, Michael, Marella and another man, who looked vaguely familiar, appear from various hiding places around the room.

Stepping up to her, Hawke took her hand and pulled her close. "Happy Birthday, Caitlin." He whispered as he hugged her tightly.

Caitlin was stunned. "Birthday!? Birthday!? Hawke, you know it's not my birthday." She pulled out of his arms. "What the…" Suddenly it dawned on her who the other man was and what Hawke's meaning was.

On her last birthday, Hawke had asked her if she'd gotten what she wanted. In an uncharacteristic moment, perhaps owing to the generous amount of wine she'd imbibed in celebration, Caitlin shook her head, locking eyes with him.

"No, Hawke. I didn't."

"Well, what did you want, then?" He questioned; a slight note of irritation in his voice that the new bomber jacket, he'd bought her, seemingly hadn't been good enough.

"You." She said simply, studying his face, wondering if perhaps she'd gone way too far and sealed her fate, ruining her chances of ever being close to him.

But instead of the flippant retort she expected, Hawke softened his gaze and his tone, as he stepped close to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You deserve more than me." He said. "Until I find Saint John I am only half of what I should be."

"That's not true, Hawke. You are your own man, regardless of whether you have your brother with you or not. Why can't you see that?"

"Cait." He said sternly. "What I see is a beautiful woman, who deserves a whole man. Whether you agree with me or not, I don't think I am that man. Not now, anyhow."

"Then when, Hawke?" She demanded. "When you find your brother? What if you never do? Will I not get what I want for my birthday ever?"

Hawke sighed and looked away. "I don't know, Cait. Maybe not."

"Hawke, please." She pleaded. "You have to accept the fact that you may never find him."

"NO!" He practically shouted at her. "I will never accept that fact, Cait. Never." Hawke started to say more until he noticed the stricken look on her face and it caught him up short. He hadn't meant to shout at her, hadn't meant to hurt her.

Her of all people.

Because, although he was loath to admit it, he cared deeply for the little red headed spitfire who had followed him to California and somehow found her way around his defenses and into his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Hawke dropped his head. "I'm sorry, Cait. I shouldn't have yelled at you. And I know you're only being realistic, but I just can't accept that he's dead ,or that I'll never see him again. I just feel it in my bones that somehow, somewhere, I will find him."

"Then what happens?" She asked quietly.

Hawke raised his head and his hand, gently running a hand down the contour of her face. "Then I give you what you really want for your birthday."

As that conversation played its self out in her head, Caitlin stared at first, Hawke and then the man who'd walked up beside him.

He'd found him!

Somehow, Stringfellow Hawke had found his brother and he had brought her here to give her what she'd asked for that day.

"Are you…" she licked very dry lips and tried again. "Is this… what… what I think it is?" She asked, smiling.

"Yes." He said simply.

For a moment, Caitlin was overjoyed at what he was implying but suddenly, she remembered the anguish she'd endured in the last few days and quickly her smile disappeared. "Why?" She asked the smile of moments earlier replaced by a scowl. "Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?"

"I couldn't, Cait." He shrugged. "I couldn't tell anyone."

"It was my fault." The man she now knew was Saint John spoke up. "I was deep undercover and I couldn't get out. The only hope I had was String coming in after me so I found a way to get word to him. But I made him promise to tell no one. Not even Dom knew about it."

Caitlin turned and looked at Dom to confirm and by the look on his face she knew it was true. Turning back, she glared at Michael. "But you knew about this, right?"

"No." Hawke shook his head. "Honest, Cait. No one but Saint John and I knew anything at all. Michael, Marella and Dom weren't told anything until today. At first, I wasn't sure either Saint John or I would make it out alive and when I knew we would, I kept quiet because I wanted this to be a complete surprise."

"Well, you got that." Caitlin's smile slowly returned. "I'm still not happy about you keeping us in the dark, but I'm awful glad you're okay."

Hawke grinned. "Then what do you say. Still want your gift?"

Without hesitation, Caitlin threw herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him. "YES!"

For several minutes the whole world stopped for both Hawke and Caitlin as they held each other tightly. When they finally broke apart, the party began.

Later that evening, after Michael and Marella had gone, and Dom took Saint John home with him for the night, Cait and Hawke sat quietly on his couch, fireplace blazing at last.

"You really surprised me today, you know that?" Caitlin grinned over at him.

Hawke nodded. "That's sort of what I was going for."

"I'm still not crazy about you going off on your own to rescue your brother without telling anyone, but I'm awful glad you're home and safe. I was really worried about you."

"How worried?" Hawke asked, studying her face intently.

"Really worried." She answered. "I don't know what I would've done if…" She swallowed hard, not wanting to complete that thought. Taking a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his. "I love you, Stringfellow Hawke. Whether you love me or not, I love you and I couldn't stand it if something were to happen to you."

Hawke smiled and inclined his head, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss which turned passionate quickly. When he could no longer breathe, String pulled back and gave her a steady look full of longing and desire and something more. "I love you, Caitlin and you would be doing me the greatest honor, if you would agree to marry me."

Caitlin's heart nearly stopped and her breathing slowed dangerously. "Do you mean that?"

String nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "I do."

Caitlin suddenly laughed and reached up, kissing him again. "Not yet." She giggled. "But you will."

The End.