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23 January 2011 @ 01:33 am
HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRAULEIN~  
What are you talking about?  I don't know the above poster!  We didn't plan this!!  That's crazytalk!!!

Ahem.  I mean.  In keeping with the fact that this comm deserves more activity, and Klema deserves much more love, here is another birthday Klema fic written for another friend who is a big Klema shipper.  It's a certain special someone's birthday, and that someone special's special someone doesn't quite grasp the concept of moderation.  

Brief A/N: Sometime post-AJ but pre-fic Klavier went through a time period when he lost touch with himself and basically transformed into Kristoph after his execution.  The gang eventually pulled him out of it.  It's referenced in the fic and I didn't want people who can't READ MINDS AND KNOW MY HEADCANON to be confused! =)

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag~!


Oh dear sweet god. Why.

It’s 7:30. It’s a Wednesday. I have to be at work very soon, but I was HOPING to sleep in a few more minutes. It happens to be my birthday, something I didn’t THINK was a big deal, until just now. Now that I have gone to answer the mysterious knock on my apartment door and found a barbershop quartet bearing a bouquet of flowers bigger than I am and an even bigger stuffed kitty. Oh no. Oh god oh god why.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMAAAA, IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAYYY!!!”

I’m dying a little bit.

“YOUR DAY WILL BE FILLED WITH MAGIC AND SUNSHINE”

Some of the neighbors are started to poke their heads out. I kind of want to melt into the floor right now.

“TODAY, LIKE EVERY DAY, YOU LOOK DIVINE”

I’m in my pajamas, by the way. Like I actually just rolled out of bed to find out who was at the door. My hair is a mess, definitely have no make-up on, and I’m just wearing some gross old sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“HAVE A HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY… EMA!”

….

They strike some kind of dramatic finale pose in their Gavinners-themed outfits. Probably because I’m still basically asleep (but also because this is absolutely absurd), I have nothing to say. They hand off the bouquet and the stuffed cat (I cannot overexaggerate how huge both of these are, by the way) and go on their merry way. I’m left standing in the doorway, absolutely speechless. The neighbors slowly retreat back in their apartments. I know I should start getting ready for work, but I can’t even begin to process what just happened.

Dear god, why oh why couldn’t I have a normal boyfriend?

I go back inside and put the bouquet on the table and the kitty on the sofa. Does… does Klavier not realize that when I say I’m allergic to cats, I MEAN I’m allergic to cats? I shake my head. Of course, there’s a card on the bouquet.

“Guess who, Ema? ;) ” 

Of course.

The flowers are… actually beautiful. And I hate cats, but even I have to admit this thing is kind of adorable. I know this is the kind of thing most girls must WISH their boyfriends would do for them, especially if that boyfriend were Klavier Gavin. I know this. I know all this. So why is my knee-jerk reaction to all this affection to instantly hide my face under a table?

I go into my tiny kitchen and begin to get a bowl of sugary cereal. You know, one of these days, I’ll have to get over my apparent allergic reaction to any affection. It’s just… you know, it’s like if you take whatever a NORMAL human being might consider an appropriate display of affection, and multiply it by CRAZY UNICORNS GLIMMER, then that’s what Klavier will do. Seriously. I’m actually fearful for what the rest of today will bring, if this is just round one. I’m going to have to awkwardly apologize to my neighbors next time I see them…. Some of them looked like they’re just woken up too…

I leave the dirty dishes in the sink and start to make myself look vaguely presentable. Seriously, I was thinking I’d maybe go out to get some drinks tonight with some coworkers. Planning a birthday celebration was not exactly my big priority this week. Lana couldn’t make it in, too busy with work. Edgeworth was over in Europe doing… I don’t know, whatever everyone always seems to do in Europe. I had gotten a call from him yesterday (not that I minded he got the wrong day, it was close enough…) wishing me happy birthday. Everyone at the office, including me, was really busy this week with a very important case. I’d worked over time the past three days… Okay, how on earth did Klavier find the time to organize something like this?

Huh, looks like I’ll actually be on time to work today. I mean, I did get woken up earlier by that…. those… singers.

I’m not going to lie. I’m terrified for what this day holds.

***

Okay, so, you thought that a barbershop quartet a bouquet and a stuffed animal were still, at least, a little bit normal? Or at least logical? Well. Let me continue.

So I park my car in the garage. Cross the street to the police headquarters. As I’m passing the security guard in the lobby, I think I see something out of the corner of my eye. I do a double take.

No. No… no way.

He’s wearing a party hat. Yes, a party hat. The little cardboard pointy kind.

I get in the elevator and I’m trying to tell myself that there’s no way this has anything to do with me. No. There’s no way. It must just be some crazy new guy or something. Or, hey, maybe it’s his birthday too and he likes celebrating.

I step out into the main office.

Every.
One.
Is.
Wearing.
A.
Party.
Hat.

I almost go right back in the elevator and head home.

How did he do this?? How is this even possible? What kind of person is like, hmm my girlfriend’s birthday is tomorrow, I KNOW, I’ll wake her up with the magic of song and then have EVERYONE at her place of work wear party hats all day long?? OH GOD, EVEN THE JANITORS ARE WEARING THEM.

I’m trying to make my way to my cubicle without being noticed… Please please please.

“Hey Ema!”

Of course. I’m never that lucky.

“Pfft, happy birthday!!” sniggered one of the low-level cops. I try to smile and laugh it off, like I was in on the joke and I think this is all HILARIOUS, but no one buys it. Of course. This is my life. A few more people catch my eye as I desperately slink to my cubicle. Some of them seem to think the whole thing is absolutely HILARIOUS, while others smile to me reassuringly as if to say “I’m so sorry. This day will be over soon. Just stay strong, Ema, stay strong.” At least, that’s what I imagine.

So I finally make it to my cubicle. And there… there’s the worst part of all.

My entire cubicle is filled with what looks like over a year’s worth of Snackoos.

SEE, THIS IS THE WORST PART. NOW I CAN’T EVEN BE MAD ABOUT THE OTHER STUFF. WHAT IS MY LIFE??

I’m standing there in shock for, well, ever basically. But for the first time today, it’s the good kind of shock. Like my mouth is watering. It’s even the good brand, not the cheap generic I sometimes have to buy if I’m running short on funds. Seriously, I have no idea how I’m going to transport all these home. The entire cubicle is at least… three feet deep in Snackoos. A few of them have ridiculous bows on them, and of course a handful have notes attached them saying things like “Happy Birthday!” or “To mein Spatzi” (what the hell does that word mean?) I really have no idea how I’m supposed to work like this, but I’m really not caring right now. I grab the nearest bag and commence nomming. So. Good.

“Hey there pal! Happy Birthday… uh, what’s all this?”

I turn around to say hello to one of my favorite detectives, Dick Gumshoe (also wearing a hat). “Hey there. Yeah, haha, guess who did this?” “Who?” “…Klavier.” “Oh! I guess that makes sense, pal!” (Gumshoe was never too fast at figuring things out) “Yeah, that does make sense! Especially with the surprise party at lunch!”

“…”

“OH NO! I wasn’t supposed to say that!! Argh, I hope this doesn’t get my pay docked again! Please don’t tell anyone pal!!” I can’t help but laugh. “Gumshoe, relax. It really wouldn’t have been much of a surprise anyway. But don’t worry I’ll act like I have ABSOLUTELY no idea!” I’m not expecting Gumshoe to pick up on the sarcasm. He doesn’t. “Thanks pal! I really owe you one!” I laugh. “Actually… if you could help me get these out to my car so I can, y’know, get to my desk at all, that’d be great?”

***

After we get the snackoos out to my car (finding many more ridiculous attached notes along the way), I finally try to get some work done. I know, a shocking concept, doing work when at work? Of course, my desktop has been changed to an image of Klavier with some poorly photoshopped-in text saying Happy Birthday. Technology, not one of his fortes.

Don’t tell anyone I said this. But sometimes when Klavier tries way too hard, it’s almost… (dare I say it) adorable.

Seriously, don’t tell anyone.

So lunchtime finally rolled around. I tried to get things done, but it was hard with people stopping by every few seconds to ask if they HAD to wear the hats. So I go to the lunchroom, apprehensive but no longer angry. It’s hard to be angry when you’ve already gone through half a bag of snackoos…. I open the door. Well, of course there’s a cake about half my size, of course there’s an enormous banner with my name in calligraphy, of course the entire staff is gathered around to shout HAPPY BIRTHDAY. However, there are also… ice sculptures?? Really? As well as… wait, are those… is that a fondue fountain? And… oh god. A floral arrangement. In the shape of. Me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

They burst into a haphazard chorus of Happy Birthday as I tried to ignore the multiple Ema statues that wae scattered throughout the room. This is not, by the way, a nice kind of room. It’s not like it’s the kind of place where ice sculptures (FRIGGIN ICE SCULPTURES??) look like they belong. Also, I cannot begin to describe to you how the happy birthday banner looks like it should be the birthday banner for a queen or something. …you know, if Klavier heard me thinking that last sentence, he’d probably think it was romantic. Sigh.

As the chorus fades away, I mumble “Thanks guys… I’m so surprised!!” Gumshoe smiles at me happily (Oh, Gumshoe) and cake begins being passed around. I can’t help but wonder when Klavier will actually show up, seeing how ridiculously this day is going… I sit down next to Gumshoe and some other more tolerable coworkers. Good god, this cake is amazing… The icing on top said something about Spatzi, I’m not even paying attention any more. Gumshoe can’t stop talking about how this is some of the best food he’s ever had.

You know. I’m trying really hard to stay in my standard operating mode (bitter and cynical, basically). But I’m finding it harder than usual. Have I facepalmed more times today than I have in the past, I don’t know, YEAR? Yes. Would I rather not have had all my neighbors see me get serenaded in my pajamas? Would I rather not feel responsible for THE ENTIRE POLICE FORCE spending a day in silly cardboard party hats? Yes. Can I even begin to understand why ice sculptures are a good idea in the break room?? No. But despite all this, I’m having a hard time being my normal Ema self about all this. Maybe it was the Snackoos. No. No, really, I’m pretty sure it has a lot to do with last year…

***

“Sorry, he’s not picking up”

“Not picking up?” I shook my head. “Why… no, I mean he always keeps his phone on. Can you try again?” “Sorry pal,” said Gumshoe, “This is the fifth time I’ve called him.”

We were waiting around outside the parking lot. It was just a few of us, some friends from work, Maya, Gumshoe, Nick. It wasn’t a big party, we were just going to go out somewhere for my birthday. And Klavier wasn’t picking up.

What were “we” at that point? It had never been clear. But we’d been fighting, and he’d been acting… strangely. Very, very strangely. And then all of a sudden, he wasn’t the same person any more.

“Look, maybe I’ll try calling him. He was at work today, he has to be available.”

I saw him in the hallway that day. He waved a little, without smiling. That was it.

“I’m telling you, he’s not picking up. He’s probably busy or something. Look, why don’t we just go and try to have a fun time with just us?”

Because I’ll spend the whole night like I’ve spent the past week or two wondering why I was such an idiot to think that Klavier actually had feelings for me? Because I have no idea what could be making him so busy that he can’t spare an hour for my birthday? Because I don’t even know who he is any more? Because I felt like I finally had something good in my life, and now I don’t even know what happened?

“Look pal, I’ll try calling him one last time.”

I stand there uncomfortably as Gumshoe dials for the umpteenth time. Everyone’s awkwardly standing around pretending like they’re not awkwardly standing around. They all know I really don’t want to talk about it.

“Klavier!”

“He picked up??” I impulsively shout. Gumshoe doesn’t answer because he’s listening to whatever Klavier’s saying.

“Look pal. It’s Ema’s birthday and a bunch of us are going out for some food and drinks. I know she’d really appreciate it if you came. I mean, we’re all going. Whaddaya say?”

Silence. I’m not even breathing.

“W-well yeah! It’s her birthday! Come on, it’ll only be for… an hour or two! You can spare that much time for EMA’S BIRTHDAY, right?”

Silence.

And then he hangs up.

“I, uh… I’m sorry Ema, he said he was busy and he had a lot of work to do.”

I can’t even think of anything to say. After standing there for a moment or two, I pull out my own phone and dial his number. I take a few steps away from the group, knowing I’m only a few sentences away from tears.

Ringing… ringing… ringing… ringing….?

Voicemail.

Oh god, and now I’m going to burst into tears in front of all of my friends. On my birthday. Of course.

So the rest of the night alternated between valiant but failed attempts to talk about something else, or equally valiant but equally failed attempts to cheer me up. Klavier never mentioned it again. At least not until months later when we all somehow managed to pull Klavier out of what we realized was his sociopathic brother’s final grasp. But that’s a much longer story for another day.

***

After having one of the all-time worst birthdays last year, I can only assume this year was both Klavier’s usual ridiculousness combined with an attempt to make up for last year. The cake is almost gone and everyone reluctantly starts to head back to their offices or cubicles. As the crowd thins, I sneak a peek at the Ema sculptures. Why am I posing like some kind of Greek goddess? But still wearing my labcoat and bag of vials? I grab a piece of cake or two to steal home, and head back to my cubicle.

I step into my cubicle to put the slices of cake down on my desk, only to discover something that wasn’t there before. A big box, about half my height, wrapped in purple wrapping paper and with a huge purple bow on top. I put the cake down, and stare it at. A small tag reads “To mein favorite Ema”. I suddenly notice the word “Fraulein” hasn’t been used once today. I’m touched.

I slowly start to lift off the lid on the box, curious as to what’s inside…

All of a sudden, the lid pops up, confetti and sequins explode out!

And there jumps up Klavier Gavin, shouting “ALLES GUTE ZUM GEBURTSTAG, EMA!!!”

I scream bloody murder and trip over my own damn chair as I stumble backwards in momentary horror, crashing on the floor in a flurry of papers and cake.

“ACH!! EMA!!”

Klavier awkwardly clambers out of the box to try and help me up. But I’ve already started laughing, despite the dark chocolate stains all over my lab coat now. “Are you alright? Achtung, this was supposed to be a fun surprise, not a… a terrifying experience!! I’m so sorry!!” I’m still cracking up. Why, I’m not really sure. He helps me to my feet and tries to collect the slices of cake that have fallen to the floor, icing side down of course. “I’ll get your lab coat drycleaned, and I can get the rest of this cleaned up…. Why are you laughing, Ema?” I giggle, “Hahaha I don’t know!! It’s just kind of funny!!!”

He looks at me, completely perplexed. “But Ema, I need to make sure you have the PERFECT birthday today. Nothing can go wrong! Are you sure you’re okay?” I rolled my eyes through my laughter. “Haha, Klavier, you know I really don’t care about having the ‘perfect’ birthday, right? And yeah, I’m fine, I just tripped over my chair.” Klavier smiles, relieved, and continues, now smiling “Well good! Because I’m going to make sure today is the best birthday you’ve EVER had!! Really, I’ve got everything planned out, you’re not going to BELIEVE what we’re going to do!! Today’s just the overture, the show really starts rockin’ this weekend!”

He has that excited puppy dog look he gets sometimes. Usually when he’s planned something way more extravagant than humanly conceivable. Also, I’m pretty sure he’s got multiple big concerts planned for this weekend. Dear god don’t let my birthday involve those…

“Klavier, you know I don’t NEED a fancy birthday. I mean… I’d be happy enough just spending it with my friends. And… you.” WHY is it still so hard for me to admit that I like this guy to his face??

“Well ja but… I mean, I have to give you the best birthday ever, Ema! You deserve it! Especially after… Umm, I mean, after… last year…” Ahh. So this was about last year. Of course. I knew it was hard for Klavier to talk about that time, so he rarely brought it up. Not like any of us particularly relished the memories… “I have to give you the best birthday you’ve ever had, okay? The birthday of a QUEEN, ja?? It will be amazing! Stupendous! Perfection!”

Oh dear. He’s impossible when he gets like this. And once he starts rambling, there’s really only one way to shut him up. I grab his stupid face, “Klavier” and plant one on him. Okay, he’s shut up now. (I swear, that’s the only reason I did that…) “If you really want to do all that, fine. But I’m going to have a good birthday whether we’re, I don’t know, in some fancy hotel in Paris, or just spending a quiet weekend together. Okay? As long as you know that.”

Klavier still seems to go into cardiac arrest every time I kiss him somewhere that’s even borderline public.

So after he recovers from the shock of that, he goes “Alright, Ema. I… I think I understand. I’ve got a lot of planning to do now, though… So, what do you say? The Noodle Pal tonight with everyone?” I agree, “Of course!” though this certainly seems like a switch from his grandiose plans of a few minutes ago. “Alright, I’ll pick you up after work. I’ve got to get home and start rearranging things…” “Erm, okay.” I’m confused. But hey. Whatever. I’m always confused…

***

As work FINALLY ends, I head out to the parking lot. I see Klavier waiting there in a car… wait, a CAR? Not Heidi?? And sitting in the passenger seat is… EDGEWORTH???

I almost drop my bag in shock. I run over to the car as they both get out. “Mister Edgeworth, I thought you were in Europe!!!” I throw my arms around him in a big hug (I can practically see Klavier twitching in my mind). He laughs, “Well I was, but Gavin here flew me home for the afternoon so I wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

My mind explodes. Klavier??? Flew Mr. Edgeworth here??? Doesn’t Klavier hate Mr. Edgeworth???? Or at least get INSANELY jealous of him. What is this?? I turn to Klavier, telepathically asking all these questions as my eyebrows go higher than I think they’ve ever gone in their life.

He just shrugs and smiles. “I wanted to get all your friends together for your birthday, ja?” The idea of Klavier PAYING to have to be around Mr. Edgeworth for an entire evening is something I can barely wrap my mind around. “And I think there’s another surprise visitor waiting for us at the Noodle Pal…” Klavier adds. “Wait, who?”, I ask. Klavier laughs. “Who else did you want to be here who couldn’t come?” “…Lana? Wait… you didn’t!” I’m grinning like an idiot as he nods. I’m never this excited or happy ever, so I really don’t know what to do with these emotions. Some kind of half giggle half squee (is that what they call it?) emerges from my mouth and it’s embarrassing.

Another car pulls into the parking lot, and I see it’s Maya. I wave to her excitedly, still not even believing that I’m actually going to get to have a dinner with all my friends. Miles begins to awkwardly shift his weight from side to side. “Well, erm, I suppose I should, ah, ride with Miss Fey?” I can’t help but laugh out loud. Those two… “Yes, of course you should,” I insist. “Well,” says Klavier, “We’ll all meet up at the Noodle Pal in a few? Everyone else should already be there, but Herr Edgeworth wanted to ride with someone else, didn’t he?” Klavier nudged Mr. Edgeworth, and Mr. Edgeworth turned a bright shade of fuschia. “Ah, well, erm.” “Haha, see you there, Ruffles.”

Klavier opens the door for me, and we both get in the car. We pull out in front of Maya and Mr. Edgeworth, and begin heading towards the restaurant.

“So… the Noodle Pal?” “Ja, well, I was going to take us to the most extravagant restaurant in town, but what you said today got me thinking… Wouldn’t it just be better to spend good time with friends at a place we like?” Whoa. So he was actually listening to what I said… and decided to go with the less extravagant option of the two? Is this a lifetime first for Klavier? “Yeah… that’s exactly what I meant.” I smile at him.

“Also… no Heidi? What, decided to give her a break finally?” He laughed. “Nein, Ema, I just sometimes get the feeling you don’t love Heidi as I do. And I didn’t want you to feel jealous on your birthday, ja?” …okay, now this is getting weird. Klavier driving a car because I hate his death trap- I mean, “Heidi”? This is getting freaky. I can’t think of anything to say, so we just ride in silence for a few moments. I’m pretty sure we’re both smiling, though.

I’m about to thank him for flying out Lana and Mr. Edgeworth, but we both start to talk at the same time and I let him go first. “Now let me ask you a question, Ema. What would you say was your favorite birthday, if you had to pick one?” Huh. I think for a moment… but I know the answer. “Definitely when I was eight.” “What happened then?”

“Well,” I can remember every detail of the day, “it had been a few months since my parents died. It was just Lana and I. She was in law school and working two jobs to make ends meet… I mean, we weren’t too badly off, but it was still hard. I didn’t think that birthday would be that exciting. We didn’t have much to celebrate and it’s not like I was queen popular at my school.” I can still remember coming home from school that day and finding the cake the Lana had skipped class to bake. “That year, Lana bought me… oh this is going to sound stupid.” I’m already waxing poetic here, I turn to look out the window.

“No Ema, go on!” Klavier urges me. I sigh. “Okay, so Lana bought me my first science kit. You know, with a little magnifying glass and litmus paper… and all kinds of other things. I thought it was the coolest present in the world. Seriously. I couldn’t stop playing with it.” I later found out she’d sold some of her textbooks to pay for it. She never knew I knew. “She drove me all over town so I could, you know, ‘collect specimens’. And then later that night we got pizza somewhere in the mall. I mean, I know it sounds really stupid, but… it was fun, I guess.” Man, that really does sound like a stupid best birthday…

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all. I think that sounds great.”

“Really?”

“Ja.” I want to ask him about his birthdays, or why he asked this question in the first place, or why he was suddenly acting like such a normal human being. But of course, we just then pulled up to the Noodle Pal right next to Maya’s car, just in time to see Maya and Mr. Edgeworth PRETEND like they weren’t just furiously making out. Nice cover up, guys. Really.

***

After a long night of MARVELOUS shenanigans, we all got home very late and pass out almost immediately. I had so completely forgotten what Klavier had said about this weekend being the REAL party, until I started getting texts from him throughout the day Thursday. Friday morning, I go to work having no idea what on earth awaits me at the end of the day. The text updates taper off. If Thursday was the, what did he call it, the overture? I hesitate to think of the symphony. If Klavier could find a way to climb Mount Everest JUST so he could shout “I LOVE FRAULEIN SKYE~” off of it, I’m sure he would.

I’m half expecting a circus to come parading around every corner all day. So finally as the day ends and I go out to the parking lot only to see Klavier sitting in that same sports car, I am very suspicious. After all, I’m pretty sure he should be backstage at his sold-out concert right now, right?

He gets out of the car and calls out, “Ema! There you are! Are you ready for your birthday weekend?” I walk near to him, still pretty sure he’s somehow got a parade smuggled in there. “Okay, Glitters. Just give it to me straight. What ridiculous things are we doing this weekend?” He laughs. “Just get in the car, Ema.” I’m all suspicious and shifty-eyed now, but I get in the car. We’re probably going to go to his concert, and oh god, he’s probably going to make me get on stage with him, oh god oh god…

“So really… where are we going?” I don’t know my way around that part of town, but I don’t think we’re going to the arena… “You’ll see, Ema.”

Finally, we come to a stop.

“Klavier.”

“Ja?”

“This… this is just my apartment complex.”

He turns to me, smiling. “Surprise!” Does not compute. “Wait, what?” He laughs.

“Alright Ema, here’s my big plan for our weekend. I’ve cancelled all my concerts this weekend-“ “WAIT, WHAT? YOUR SOLD OUT CONCERTS THIS WHOLE WEEKEND YOU CANCELLED THEM ALL, WHY WOULD YOU-“ “Ema, let me finish, ja? I’ve cancelled all my concerts. Now. You don’t seem to like having me stay over at your place too much. But I don’t care-“ “Well I mean it’s a total mess right now, I have to do the dishes and I haven’t vacuumed in forever, I still have all my work stuff all over the living room-“ “Ema! Achtung! Did you not hear me say I don’t care? So. I’ve brought over all of my video game systems, all of my board games, a few movies that I know you like, a few gallons of ice cream as well as the numbers of some great pizza and Chinese food places and even an extra bag or two of snackoos. Yes, for me. So that’s it. This is my big plan for the weekend. Oh, and I even brought a pair of sweatpants! I don’t want us to leave the apartment once, except to answer the door for delivery. So. Ema. You in?”

My jaw is on the floor.



I can’t register this.



“…Ema? This is… what you wanted, right?”

“…I…”

“Ema?”

Still struggling to form cohesive thoughts…

“…Klavier. You… are wonderful. I should say that more, but I don’t. But now I’m saying it. Because you are. And I think I love you? But like, actually.” I’m kind of bad at this.

He leans over and kisses me. You’d think after however long we’ve been… whatever we are I’d stop getting butterflies when this happens. But I don’t.

***

We pull apart. “Now, I’m going to get everything out of my trunk, ja? And we can head upstairs.” I try to help him carry things, but he insists on taking it all. He drops something every few steps, but of course never hands anything off to me. I’d roll my eyes if I weren’t still in shock.

“All those concerts… that sold out in less than five minutes?” We pant up the stairs (of course my complex doesn’t have an elevator). “I can always reschedule… I mean… Hordes of screaming teenyboppers, or Ema Skye? Clear choice to me.”

As I unlock the door I’m making excuses (he’s still out of breath from the stairs). I HATE having Klavier over here because my apartment is horrible and cheap and tiny, and his is fantastic in every way. “It’s really messy, and I mean it’s really all I could afford on my budget. It’s not like we’re going to have a lot of room, and I would’ve cleaned if I’d known you were coming-“ He shuts me up with another kiss. Dammit, I guess that technique does work both ways.

I’m setting up the video game systems and ordering pizza while Klavier changes into sweatpants. When he gets back, he starts going through the board games. I realize it’s also very unfair that he still gets to look good in sweatpants, while I look like a sloppy mess right now in my favorite ugly plaid pants. I’m already tearing into a bag of Snackoos and figuring out which wires go where. “Oh Ema? Would you like another Snackoo?” I turn to tell him I’ve already got a bag, but instead my lips are met with his… a Snackoo in between.

The doorbell rings with the pizza and we’re laughing and scrambling for clothes. This will happen again with the Chinese on Saturday night. And the subs on Sunday morning.

I let him win at Brawl two or three times (he’s not very good) but he beats me occasionally with beginner’s luck. That excuse seems flimsier by Sunday.

Klavier’s a wizard at Clue. But somehow I still manage to win once. I don’t really care if he let me or not.

We run out of ice cream by Saturday night. Luckily, I can break into my own stash to keep us going the rest of the weekend.

Every movie gets watched, and he somehow managed to bring all my favorites. We even get a season or two of The Steel Samurai in there.

Klavier and I eat Snackoos out of the same bag.

We both wear the same ugly sweatpants all weekend (though admittedly, we do swap off occasionally).

We sleep at random intervals, curled up on the tiny sofa that always seemed so uncomfortable but suddenly isn’t this weekend.

And finally when it’s Sunday night, I don’t want this to end.

Just as it’s reached that time when we really can’t put off separating any longer, I dig through a messy closet and pull out the science kit that Lana gave me. I still have it, even though almost everything in it has long been used up. He smiles. He says he wishes he could give me something that meant as much to me as that. I want to tell him he already has. I want to tell him that I honestly can’t think of anyone as genuinely thoughtful as he is. I want to tell him that this weekend, coming from him especially, was one of the most romantic things I could ever imagine. But my life isn’t THAT corny yet. So instead I smile and laugh and call him Glitters. I think he understands what I really mean.

So maybe to someone else, this sounds like an average, boring series of events. Maybe to some other girl, a weekend in Paris or a weekend being paraded in front of hundreds of thousands of adoring fans sounds much more lovely than falling asleep together while watching Legally Blonde. Maybe the oversized bouquets and stuffed animals and gourmet cake sounds more romantic. Maybe that makes sense.

But you know what?

I had the best birthday ever. And it’s thanks to probably the best guy in the history of forever.

Just don’t tell him I said that.
 
 
 
pleady_eyes: Klemapleady_eyes on January 23rd, 2011 06:49 am (UTC)
Who are you? I don't know you. I did not write the previous fic for your birthday, and then you wrote this fic for a third friend. That sounds crazy.

You write Ema so well. Her internal monologue always amuses me. She's so grumpy, and yet grudgingly happy. One of the most interesting parts about the Klema dynamic to me is how Ema just seems to want to get BY, while Klavier is all about glamor and glitz, so I just love seeing Klavier's brain trying to figure out why someone would ever NOT want a fantastic super fabulous birthday. No one writes Klavier like you do. <3

GOOD FIC, STRANGER.