Like Ghosts in Snow

“Taylor,”

“Taylor…”

“Taaaaylor!”

You could hear your husband whispering in your ear.

His lips were touching your skin, ever so slightly.

Instead of smiling sweetly, though, your first reaction was to scrunch your face up in somewhat of an annoyed manner.

“What?” you asked, refusing to open your eyes to the horrid light that was turned on only minutes before.

Gerard rolled his eyes at you, smiling. He was by no means ready himself, but he did take pleasure in driving you crazy.

He was lying next to you in bed on his side, but the covers were under his body instead of over, like yours were, making them seem snugger. His head was right next to yours and his lips were still pressed to your ear.

He kissed you before speaking again.

“It’s our anniversary, wake up…” he said this time, which only caused you to grumble even more.

Defiantly, you turned over to lay on your stomach, face first into your pillow.

“That is exactly why I should be allowed to sleep in!” You exclaimed, though it came out somewhat muffled. This made Gerard laugh. After, though, he let out an exaggerated sigh as he lay down on his back, folding his hands behind his head.

“Fine. Then I guess I can’t give you your surprise…” he said, nonchalantly. He was trying very hard, though, to hide the smile in his voice because there was definitely one on his face.

Your ears perked up at this, the word ‘surprise’.

Being quite intrigued now, you turned your neck so that you were facing the direction of your husband, not even bothering to open your eyes.

“Surprise?,” you asked, still not sure whether or not it was worth it to give into the light just yet, even if you were fully awake by now.

Gerard, knowing full well that he’s already hooked you into his little plan, grinned. He had to keep his composure, though. Giving anything away would just ruin everything!

“Well, Mrs. Way, it doesn’t really matter anymore, now does it? It’s not like you’re going to get up any time soon!” he teased. A small smile tugged at your lips, knowing full well that he was definitely up to something.

“Well, Mr. Way, I'd gladly get up if you’d so kindly tell me why!” you countered. Gerard glanced at the clock on your nightstand, just checking to make her he wasn’t behind schedule. Still having about twenty minutes to get you up and force you to make him breakfast, he wasn’t too worried.

“Yes. But then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?” he replied, matter-of-factly. If your eyes were open then you would definitely have rolled them at him.

Suddenly, though, you realized that something felt off.

Your eyes popped open and you quickly sat up in bed. Noticing that it was 7:10 in the morning, you knew something really was off.

“Has Jenna woken up yet?” you asked, confused.

Jenna always liked waking up early, especially on Saturdays, to watch cartoons as she multitasked playing with her toys while eating breakfast. She was very advanced for a child just shy of two years old.

Gerard shrugged, still in his relaxed pose. “Probably.”

Your brow contorted to a look even more confused before looking around the room again, to the clock once more and then back to your husband.

“Then why hasn’t she come to get me? Or you? Is she sick? What do you mean, probably?” you asked, frantically.

You didn’t wait for answers, though, because by this time you were already out of bed and making your way through the hallway, up the stairs and to your daughter’s room.

Upon entering, you find the door closed and the light shut off.

This was odd, because awake or asleep, you and Jenna both liked having her door open.

And if she were up then her light would most definitely be on because she’d be playing with her toys or maybe watching a movie.

Inside her bed is messily kempt and there is no Jenna to be found, though.

This left you to have a heart attack.

Where is Jenna?

Had she been kidnapped?

Was she okay?

Was she afraid?

Why hadn’t you heard anyone break in?

Why hadn’t Gerard stopped them?

Tears were filling your eyes and pouring down your face, your chest was heaving as you ran back to your room to inform Gerard that your daughter was missing and to declare that you’d kill whatever disgusting son of a bitch that took her!

When he saw the look on your face, though, he didn’t seem fazed.

He didn’t budge at all, actually.

This enraged you even more!

You glared at him in disbelief for a moment or two before he spoke, almost as if he could read your mind.

“Oh, I dropped Jenna at my parent’s house this morning…” he said, too casually for your liking.

Your eyes bulged and you snarled, infuriated.

“What the hell, Gerard?! I was just worried sick! I thought she was fucking kidnapped!” you screamed, pacing the room, storming to the degree that actually fazed Gerard slightly.

He got up off the bed and walked over to you, stopping you in your tracks.

For a minute you were too preoccupied with your thoughts of killing your husband, never mind a kidnapper, but when you realized you about-faced and turned the other way.

Before you could go too far, though, he caught you and held your back to his chest, despite your struggle.

“Let me go, now!” You demanded, trying as hard as you could to wiggle out of his grasp.

“I'm sorry, I should have told you before. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized, softly.

You couldn’t give in just yet, though. You were mad at him, after all.

“It’s a little late for that now, isn’t it?” you huffed, almost violently pulling away to storm over to your side of the bed. You sat down and crossed your arms over your chest in an unhappy manner, pouting.

So much for a stupid surprise.

“We could call her, before we leave. Then you’ll know she’s fine and feel better…” he suggested, still keeping his distance.

He knew better.

But his offer wasn’t totally horrible.

You didn’t completely hate it.

You’d get to talk to Jenna, know that she was safe and sound and then maybe have a nice time with whatever Gerard had planned.

That… wasn’t a bad idea…

It was your anniversary, after all.

“Dial the number.” You stated, still sounding slightly irritated.

Gerard smiled, knowing that his plans would end up happening after all.

Without a word he walked over to his side of the bed and grabbed the cordless phone before strolling back over to you, dialing his parent’s number as asked. After hearing a ring he gave the phone to you, now sitting on the bed as well.

Without a ‘thank you’ you took it from him and waited to hear one of your in-laws answer. One ring, two rings, three and then they answered brightly, always having been morning people.

“Hello?” Donna’s voice chirped pleasantly. If you weren’t still somewhat pissed off at Gerard, you would have smiled.

“Uhm, hey Donna, it’s Taylor.” You said awkwardly, never having gotten totally used to talking to your mother-in-law on the phone.

“Oh hi sweetie, what’s up? Have you and Gerard left yet?” she asked. You could tell she was moving around, probably in the kitchen making breakfast at this hour.

“Uh, no, not yet. I was just calling to talk to Jenna?” you asked hopefully. You knew she was there, Gerard wouldn’t lie to you about it, but as a mother it would just make you feel a world better to talk to your daughter.

You could hear Donna laugh on the other end of the phone, and you arched your eyebrow curiously, even if you knew she couldn’t see you. “So he didn’t tell you she was coming over here then?” she asked, now making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“No, when does he ever tell me anything?” You laughed again, causing a chain reaction from Donna.

“I didn’t think so,” she stated.

Figures.

Typical Gerard.

“She’s right here at the table, hold on.” You heard Donna’s voice on the other end, probably talking to Jenna. You decided to make yourself comfortable on the bed, uncrossing your arms and laying down, your legs dangling off the edge. Gerard hadn’t made a move to lie next to you but you didn’t mind.

He was still on your bad side.

As far as he knew.

“Mommy?” Jenna’s sweet voice asked. A huge smile spread across your face. The sound of her voice usually did that to you.

“Hi Jenna! Are you being a good girl for Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Uhuh! Breakfast!” she exclaimed, giggling. You knew that meant that she was eating breakfast.

“That’s great! Now remember to chew chew chew and then swallow, okay baby?” You reminded your daughter, sounding slightly like an idiot. You didn’t care, though.

You knew Jenna thought it was great.

And you knew Gerard was smiling at your baby talk.

“Okay mommy!” Jenna peeped, and then you could hear her loudly chomping, probably to show that she was listening. You had to try your best not to laugh so that she wouldn’t follow suit, causing her to possibly choke. Once you were pretty sure she was finished with that bite you spoke again.

“I'm going to go now, but when daddy and I come back we’ll have big hugs and kisses and a present for you, okay Jenna?” you asked, overly enthusiastic. You heard an excited gasp that could only make your smile broaden.

“Daddy! Mommy miss you!” she replied, most likely ready for her presents. You laughed, knowing your daughter, and turned onto your side to get a little bit more comfortable.

“Daddy and I miss you, too, baby. We’ll see you soon, okay?” You asked, almost feeling guilty for not making Gerard call all of his sneaky plans off and making him go and pick up Jenna. You wouldn’t mind spending your anniversary with your baby, right?

It wasn’t romantic, but…

“Love mommy,” Jenna squeaked. Your heart melted right then and there and you wanted to go and get her, but you fought the urge to say anything.

“I love you too, so does Daddy. I'll see you soon and we’ll have a present for you and everything! Now be a good girl and put Grandma back on the phone, please.”

“Mommy, bye bye.”

“Bye bye sweetie!” You heard movement and muffling before Donna was back on the other line.

“Feel better?” she asked, knowing you all too well. You let out a sigh and nodded your head.

“Yeah, thanks. I needed that.” You laughed.

This made you feel old.

Being a mother did that to you, it added so much worry and responsibility to your everyday life.

But at the same time it added a whole bunch of joy and love.

Pride and pleasure.

Life had been fun before, but nothing compared to now.

“Well, I'll let you go! I know you two have got a lot to do today! Give Gerard a good smack for me and tell him to behave!” Donna called out making you literally laugh out loud. You didn’t feel mad or upset anymore.

Suddenly it wasn’t a big deal.

“Haha, oh you know I will! Thanks again!” you added. The two of you said your goodbyes and then the phone line went dead. You hung up as well and then buried your face into the blankets on your bed. You felt the mattress sink in even more than it previously was and an arm draped around your waist, a hand resting on your stomach.

This time you didn’t pull or push away.

“Am I still in trouble?” Gerard asks, innocently. His lips are pressed to your neck, making you shiver.

But it isn’t the bad kind of shiver.

No, just the opposite.

“What’s my surprise?” You asked slyly. You felt Gerard rub his nose on your neck and then kissed your skin.

“Good try, but not happening.” He whispered, kissing your neck again. You groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

“Fine, then you’re still in trouble!” You stated, but before you could let out a “humph” you were suddenly pinned underneath your husband, his grinning face just inches above your shocked one. His soft lips pecked yours, making you want to fight the smile that was forming.

“How about now?” he asked and then kissed you again before you could answer.

Unable to resist, you giggled, which made you blush and Gerard’s grin turn into one of the Cheshire Cat. He tilted his head so his face was buried in your neck again, his teeth bared and nipping at your flesh.

You were almost ready to give in, but you didn’t.

Not yet.

“Now?” He asked, hoping he was luring you in.

He was, but you couldn’t let him win yet.

That just wouldn’t be any fun on your part.

It took a great deal of might to refuse, but you knew that if you did then more attention to your neck may be in order!

“Mmmm… Nope!” you stated, craning your neck for easier access. Your skin isn’t met with his lips, however, but your ears hear his frustrated sigh and he hits the pillow next to your head.

“Taylor!” he whines.

Gerard pulls away and happens to glance at the long forgotten clock on the nightstand and bolts up from the bed.

Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him scramble around the room, searching frantically for what seems like clean articles of clothing.

“What are you doing?” you wondered aloud, sitting up straight. You brought your legs up to the bed and crossed them, waiting for an acknowledgement.

You didn’t get the one you hoped for, though.

Gerard froze where he was, a black shirt bunched up in his hands. He looked over at you and then threw the shirt on the ground. He made his way to you and took your hands in his, tugging you off of the bed.

He looked slightly crazy.

“What are you doing?” you asked again, though this time you were more intrigued than un-impressed.

“Taylor, you need to take a shower!” he announced, leading you out of your bedroom and through the hall. You raised your eyebrow.

“Who says?”

You were curious of his sudden strange behavior.

Well, Gerard had always been strange, but this was slightly off book.

“Me! C’mon, Taylor, you smell worse than rib perfume! Shower so I can give you your surprise, will ya’?” He exclaimed, tugging you up the stairs.

You smirked, remembering the days when you used to work at the restaurant.

The days that had started it all.

But you also felt slightly offended, self conscious even.

Had you really smelled that bad? You took a shower last night, it’s not like you played in a pile of mud afterwards…

“But, I…” you began as you reached the top of the stairs.

“Taylor, don’t argue with me! I am a man and superior, now GO!” he urged, pushing you into the bathroom far enough so that when he closed the door, it didn’t hit you.

Though, you ended up looking like you’ve been smacked in the face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you opened your mouth, almost shocked.

You were only playing, as was Gerard, but you realized that he obviously couldn’t see you.

So you did the next best thing:

Raise your voice.

“I'll get you! I know where you sleep!” you screeched, and then faintly heard your husband’s laugh in the distance.

You shook your head, still curious about your ‘surprise’ and then began to take care of business in the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Gerard had continued to run around in a frenzied manner, almost like a chicken with his head chopped off.

He had to pack!

He had to pack for himself and then he had to pack for you, all while you were in the shower.

He hadn’t been as suave as he wanted to be, but at least he got you out of the way for a short while.

He grabbed a duffel bag that was big enough to hold both of your things combined with some over night clothes and then an outfit for the next day.

He couldn’t help but grin when he dug through your underwear droor, finding his favorite sexy garment.

He knew you’d protest but he always enjoyed watching you blush in the process. He’d found the matching bra and packed that too, almost satisfied with his work.

Almost.

He’d stupidly forgotten to grab toiletries in the bathroom.

And he knew you’d need them for your shower, if they weren’t there then you’d definitely be suspicious.

Well… more suspicious than Gerard had already made you.

He’d have to figure out a way to sneak everything out and keep you distracted at the same time.

It would prove to be a difficult task, and as dorky as it sounded, he loved the idea of a mission!

. . .

Twenty minutes later you’d gotten out of the shower and dried your hair, putting it to the way you wanted.

Straight down with your bangs covering your eye.

You had to wrap a towel around your body, feeling slightly exposed even if you were in your own home, and a little dumb that you hadn’t at least grabbed a set of clothes before you let your husband childishly drag you into the bathroom.

Then again, you could always just blame Gerard…

You smiled, deciding to go with that approach. But when you opened the door you happened to look down to find clothing ready and waiting for you to put on, making you smile even wider.

You hurried to pick them up and close yourself back into the bathroom to change up. You noticed that Gerard put out warm clothes, a pair of jeans and your My Chemical Romance Medusa shirt, with a pair of fuzzy socks and sensible underwear.

Also, your favorite My Chem jacket.

Usually when he packed or picked anything out for you he’d insist on something that wasn’t promoting his band, but you supposed that because it was your anniversary he’d let it slide.

Yeah, you thought, he’d better let it slide!

You laughed at your own thoughts and walked through your unusually quiet house, padding down the stairs and into the kitchen to find that a pot of coffee had already been brewed and only half was left.

You didn’t mind, it wasn’t like you drank that stuff.

No, you preferred something totally better.

Dr. Pepper was usually it, but on a cold winter day, hot chocolate was ‘the stuff’!

You turned the faucet onto ‘Hot’ and let the water heat and waited for steam to appear while you went to the cupboard to grab your favorite mug: An originally plain white mug that Gerard had bought for Jenna to paint using some kind of kit for your first mother’s day.

It was no Picasso, but it was brilliant.

Plus, he helped a little…

You set it down on the counter and as you walked by you felt the water temperature.

Still not hot enough.

You went to the snack closet and grabbed a packet of the chocolaty mix and then lazily walked back over to the utensil droor. After selecting a spoon you slid the droor shut with your hip and then made your way back to the sink.

You could definitely see the steam now.

Almost afraid of getting burnt, you inched your hand towards the water.

It only took a second to figure out that it was scalding before you pulled your fingers back and reached for your mug.

You only filled it half way, though, and then pulled it back, setting it onto your counter and then reached over to turn the faucet off.

You hopped over to the fridge, getting out cream that had caramel flavoring in it.

A perfect additive to hot chocolate.

You shook the bottle, not because it was required, but just because you liked doing it.

You set that on the counter along with your mug and picked up the powder packet once more.

As you tore the opening the scent filled your nostrils and brought a smile to your face.

There was absolutely nothing better on a cold winter day!

Other than Dr. Pepper, maybe…

You poured the mix into the still sweltering water and then tossed the paper aside, picking up your spoon to carefully stir your newly formed coco.

You couldn’t have any bumps or clumps; that would simply be unacceptable!

Once that matter had been settled, you shook the container of creamer just a few more times for fun, and then popped the cap. You probably put more in than was absolutely necessary but that’s quite all right.

It’s not like anyone saw you, right?

But you were proven wrong about two minutes later.

As you were making yourself the tasty treat, Gerard had been playing ‘Spy’, sneaking about the house like a little boy probably would have.

He’d safely made it back up stairs, packed the extra bag he needed for your surprise and stuffed it away, silently creeping into the kitchen to watch you.

For about a minute he stood there, leaning against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.

There was sly smile on his lips, a glint in his hazel eyes.

He knew you two had to hurry if he wanted to get everything done that he had planned for you before his real surprise, but he couldn’t help but love the way you just didn’t care how silly and carefree you were acting while making your favorite drink.

Other than Dr. Pepper, of course.

He’d already bought that for the road, a whole 12-pack was safely tucked in his trunk ready and waiting to be consumed by you.

He’d gotten that, a few different varieties of chips and snacks, and was planning on stopping for lunch at a McDonald’s afterwards.

He decided to break your peace and quiet, striding over towards you and easily wrapped his pale white arms around your middle, almost as if you’d lifted your elbows and created a space for him on purpose.

You jumped, making the spoon you were now re-using clang against the mug and the steamy drink splash a little.

You leaned into your husband, though, as he pressed himself into you.

“Mmmm, I thought you said you were going to ’get me’,” he whispered into your ear before kissing the back of your head.

You grinned, remembering your threat.

“Meh, maybe later.” You said casually, shrugging your shoulders.

As Gerard’s chest pushed into your back, laughing at you, you took the spoon out of your mug and tossed it into the sink figuring you’d make your husband load the dishwasher later.

“Well drink up! We’ve got to get going!” he said, bending down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Where are we going again?” you asked, trying to sound convincingly innocent.

It didn’t work.

“Nice try, babe, but really, we’ve got to hit the road! CHUG! !” He called out, practically in your ear by the way, lifted his head off of your body.

Oh, and before sprinting away and up the stairs, he smacked your ass.

Your face contorted into a mixture of a smirk, surprise, and a tad bit of uneasiness.

But you didn’t mind too, too much.

In fact, for once you obeyed you’re husband’s orders without any reluctance.

You blew on your hot chocolate and then took a big gulp, letting the rich substance slide down your throat.

Wiggling happily, and smiling, you followed Gerard’s lead and made your way up stairs, sipping as you went.

Your bedroom door, however, was shut.

The light was on, you could see that much, and you could hear your husband moving around inside, and yet the door was shut?

Somewhat unusual, you noted.

And on any regular day you’d barge right in because, well, it was partly your room after all!

But you knew that he had probably worked so hard to keep everything a secret from you, and even if you hated to admit it, it was all pretty cute.

So you played along.

You adjusted your grip on your mug, making sure it was secure in your hand, and then balled a light fist with the other. You knocked on the door sharp and quickly, tilting your head to the side while you waited.

The shuffling stopped, and for a second or two, you could hear nothing but silence.

Quite an extraordinary element in your household.

“Uh, hold on! I'm, uh, naked!” Gerard tried, lamely. You did your best not to tip your mug as you burst out into an uncontrollable laughter.

You’d become more comfortable and even accustomed to seeing your husband without clothes on, however surreal a teenage version of you would think so, which made this excuse very, very ineffective.

“Hrm, then don’t you think I should come in, Mr. Way?” you teased, giggling.

“Taylor! Naked!” he whined making you snicker even more. You shook your head, deciding to leave him to whatever he needed to do in secret and walked through the hall, making sure all lights were off seeing as you had a feeling he was taking you somewhere.

For at least a little while.

Little was an understatement compared to what you had been thinking, though.

By the time you’d made it downstairs you were finished with your hot chocolate and needed a nice cold Dr. Pepper to wash it down.

You liked popping the tab, hearing the compacted air release from the can and the soda slosh around inside.

You made rounds down stairs as well, checking every room.

Jenna’s was the last one you went into, and you took a second longer in this one than all of the others.

It smelled like her, faintly of baby powder and cherry blossoms.

You smiled, but only half way. The other half of you was still slightly reluctant about leaving her in the first place. You wouldn’t be long, you knew, but every time you had to be separated it was just so tough.

You took one more look, sniffed a final time, and then backed out, closing her door behind you.

You tilted your head back, finishing off your beloved Dr. Pepper, and shook the can just to double check that you couldn’t hear anything inside.

Wasting a drop would be horribly stupid and unmentionable.

Insanely unmentionable.

You wouldn’t dare, and neither would anyone else around you.

Or else.

“TAYLOR! I'M WAITING!” Gerard’s impatient voice reached the upstairs hallway. Smirking to yourself, you made your way over to the railing that leads downstairs.

You poked your head out from behind the wall, but not before covering your eyes with one hand.

“Waiting? But I thought you were naked!” You exclaimed, peeking to find that your husband was indeed waiting, having his leather jacket and sunglasses already on.

There was also something in his left hand, but you couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“Ugh, being naked was so five minutes ago!” he sassed, flicking his hair away from his face in a girly manner.

You took your hand away from your eyes and rubbed your cheek, almost as if to wipe the smile from your face.

“Now c’mon! We’re already behind schedule!” he whined. He wiggled a little, looking like he was about to throw a mini-tantrum.

It amazed you that sometimes you felt as if you were raising more than one child.

You rolled your eyes, but hopped down the stairs anyway. Before you went anywhere you were going to need to throw your can away! You did, just moseying passed your husband and into the kitchen, taking your sweet time.

Just to annoy him a little.

But when you walked back into the living room where you had last seen Gerard, he wasn’t there.

You shrugged it off.

You looked around the room, triple checking that there wasn’t some random lamp left on while strolling towards the closet that was near the front door.

Usually you kicked your faithful Rocket Dog sneakers there once you got home. Y’know, so you wouldn’t track dirt into the house.

Other people didn’t seem to follow that rule, though.

But instead of finding your shoes, you found nothing but a lonesome carpet.

Today is getting stranger and stranger by the second…

You looked over and around, thinking maybe last night you just decided to toss them somewhere else for some reason, but they weren’t around.

You pouted, frustrated and confused.

“Gerard have you seen my shoes?” You called out, thinking maybe this was part of his absurd plan.

He would, too.

He would tell you that there was a surprise for you, hide your shoes and then make it so you wouldn’t be able to go wherever he told you that you were going.

But in the same respect, you might do the same to him, too.

Maybe…

Probably…

Most likely.

But Gerard knew you couldn’t hear him creep up behind you, him just inches away. He knew you were too engrossed with fussing over your beloved shoes, so he was in the clear.

He was ready to attack.

And attack he did.

“Ssshhh…” he whispered into your ear, his right hand running over your side. He smirked when you tensed for a second and then shivered. He had to act quickly, though, because if you saw anything else then special plan wouldn’t be as effective! As exciting!

For him anyways…

His left hand came up allowed the fabric inside uncrumple so he could reach his right hand over to grab the other side.

He knew you could obviously see the cloth in front of your eyes, but he didn’t care.

He knew that you knew that you were about to be blindfolded.

He’d had the material ready to tie when you finally caught wind of what was going on.

“Gerard? What the hell are you doing?” you were much more than confused by this point.

What the fuck was going on?

“Oh shush, you’re ruining the moment!” he hushed you, he tightened the knot before walking around to face you, and making sure you couldn’t see anything at all.

And to push away your hands from trying to push away the blind fold.

“Moment? What moment? This creepy stalker thing you’re trying to pull right now is not a moment!” You exclaimed, trying to slap his hands away from your face.

“Taylor, if you don’t behave then I'm going to have to tie your hands behind your back!” your husband mumbled, an amused tone in his voice.

“Tie my hands up? Gerard, if this is your idea of foreplay then it’s just sick!” You yelled, slapping his hands harder.

And if Gerard wasn’t determined to get going then he would have taken your idea into consideration.

Instead he just laughed.

“What?!”

“If my ‘big surprise’ is sex then you can just forget it! Not happening, no thank you! Take this damned thing off me, I'm going to get my daughter now!”

“I knew I'd have to end up doing this…” he sighed, taking a strip of soft fabric out of his back pocket. He walked behind you again, and gently grabbed your arms, pulling them down without effort. He tied it tight enough to where you couldn’t escape, but loose enough so that it wouldn’t hurt you or leave any marks.

You began wiggling like a worm, struggling against his body. He wasn’t surprised. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you, and kissed behind your ear.

“Babe, I promise, nothing like that… right now. Just relax, okay? I just… you can’t see where we’re going yet. You’ll love it though, I swear. Please, please cooperate?” he whispered, almost begging.

You relaxed into his body again, even if you were still a little skeptical.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He assured you, kissing the same spot once more.

You grumbled, not exactly enjoying the situation you were just put into, but knowing that Gerard must have taken the time to actually set all of these elements into place made you smile.

So it was worth it.

You hoped.

“Love me?” he asked in a hopeful tone. He knew the answer, but it was kind of cute in an annoying way when he’d ask.

“Sometimes,” you shrugged, laughing.

Gerard made a sound of protest, but knew that you were only joking, and began to continue his ultimate plan once more.

Fully anticipating doing this all along, he bent down a little and scooped you in his arms.

Bridal style.

He’d expected some sort of fuss on your part, but you’d given up and given in. Making yourself comfortable, you snuggled into your husband’s body.

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Women.”

You grinned.

Gerard carried you all the way to his car, the door already opened, making it much easier to get you inside.

He set you down, and buckled you up; even though he’d much rather have tried something else.

He chuckled; watching you as you rested your head back with a bored expression plastered over your face and closed the door to make his way to the other side, his keys stuffed into his jeans pocket.

Glancing into the back seat window, he double checked to make sure that he’d switched the food from his trunk to the back, and he put your over night bags into the trunk so he’d have a better chance of hiding everything he’d packed for you.

Except for your shoes, that is, and your purse.

He knew enough to put those in the back seat as well.

He had also remembered to stuff your purse with two pairs of gloves, and a scarf for himself.

Just in case.

If he didn’t want a bitch fit later then he’d better.

The first hour was spent by Gerard driving like the speed demon he is as you tried to figure out where he was taking you. With his left hand on the wheel, he’d give you a chip for every answer you guess wrong, which was all of them.

In all honesty, he was quite surprised you’d never guessed New York.
Sure, you came close.

You asked if he could possibly be taking you to Toys R Us, or maybe even Times Square.

But that wasn’t specific enough.

You’d always know your guesses were wrong when he’d pop a chip in you mouth. As you chomped on it you thought of a whole new location and possibility. But nothing was ever right.

Finally, the car had come to somewhat of a stop, making you excited.

“Are we here, is this it?” you asked, hopefully.

You could hear the window rolling down, cold pouring in, and Gerard took a breath, as if waiting to speak.

By this time, in a matter of seconds, you were ready to be untied and have the blindfold taken off and see where the hell this mystery place was.

Gerard had you completely fooled, though, which was his plan all along.

“Hello, welcome to McDonald’s, would you like to try a hot apple pie for just 99cents?” was the only verbal response to your question, making you slump back in your seat.

Tricked.

Again.

“Uh, no, no thanks. I’d like a McChicken, ketchup only. Uhm, also a number three with a vanilla shake and then a large Dr. Pepper, too.” Gerard said, leaning over, his elbow out of the opened window and his neck craned towards the voice box.

“Okay, that’s a McChicken with ketchup only, a number three and a large Dr. Pepper, is that it?” the voice on the other end. Looking at the screen, Gerard double checked the order before squinting.

“There was a vanilla shake, too. A large, please.” He stressed, trying to be polite.

Unless it was Taylor or one of his band mates, he never really liked to make a scene.

Especially in public.

“Oh, I'm sorry sir, but we don’t sell shakes here. We have McFlurry’s if you’re interested, though!” the voice replied.

Both you and your husband rolled your eyes.

Their selling methods are a little ridiculous.

“Oh, uh, no, I'll have a large Sprite instead.”

“That’ll be $8.50 even,” was the last thing that the voice said before you felt the car begin to move again.

And as grateful as you were to be getting something in your stomach, and a Dr. Pepper, you kind of wanted to know your surprise already!

Wasn’t Gerard the one who was trying to rush you out of the house in the first place?

For all you knew, you could have driven around Jersey for an hour only to make it right back to that dumb McDonald’s right down the street!

“$8.50.” Said a new, bored voice.

You weren’t intrigued anymore.

If anything you felt even crankier than you had this morning when you were first woken up. Especially because now that you knew food was on its way, you were even hungrier.

You twisted in your seat, wishing that your hands were untied and that you could see where you were.

Maybe then you could confirm that this whole plan wasn’t just some idiotic way to get you out of the house!

And then you wondered, how the hell were you going to eat your food?

You were not happy.

“Thanks man, have a good day,” Your husband said to the latest voice. They didn’t say anything back, even if they were supposed to.

It didn’t matter though, it’s not like it was your job on the line.

You felt Gerard plop the bag of sandwiches onto your lap and could feel the cold beverages that were placed in the cup holders against your left arm. The window rolled up, and you could almost instantly feel heat pack right back up into the car. The vehicle began to move again, but only for a second or two before you came to a complete stop.

Again.

Gerard took the bag out of your lap and rested it on his, reaching in and grabbing the first wrapped burger, his. He placed it onto his right thigh and then reached back in for yours.

He glanced over at you and smiled.

He could only imagine the way your eyebrows were furrowed, and by the pout your lips were forming, he knew you were pissed.

You’d be even more pissed in a matter of minutes.

You could hear the crinkle of paper and then smell the delicious scent of your McChicken awaiting your now rumbling stomach.

Instead of the pout you were sporting, your lips defied you and pressed together in a hungry manner.

Gerard smiled even wider.

“Open up Taylor, here comes the choo-choo! Chugga chugga choo-choo!” he called out, using the same voice he talked to Jenna with.

His daddy voice.

You loved his daddy voice.

“You’re so not funny, you know,” you decided, “But I'm really hungry, so bring it on!” you urged, opening your mouth nice and wide.

It took a while to get you fed.

Gerard had purposefully smashed some food in your face, just to see what would happen.

And instead of using a napkin like a sensible person would, he just licked your cheeks off himself.

Lovely.

After messing around and feeding you properly, you took three long gulps of some Dr. Pepper, with the help from your Husband of course, and the two of you set back on the road.

Wherever you were going, you were happier to be going there now that you had something in your stomach.

You noticed that Gerard didn’t take the time to stuff his own face, after stuffing yours, but you figured he was probably just eating his burger while driving.

Having two free hands gave a person the advantage of multitasking.

The two of you would drive for an hour and a half more, making small talk until you heard semi-familiar sounds of simultaneous honking getting louder and louder.

Soon, it drowned out the radio.

Truly, this sound could be anywhere.

But at the same time, you’d only ever heard traffic sound just like this in one place.

One place only.

“NEW YORK!” You cried out, not being able to help yourself.

You couldn’t see, quite obviously because of that damned blindfold, but your head was eagerly moving back and forth, trying to visualize the excitement that you knew was going on.

You wiggled in your seat, squirmed, yearning to get free to press your hands up against the glass window just like a child might.

Oh the adventures to come!

Having never been to The Pierre, Gerard was surprised to find it quite easily and pulled up to the valet entrance.

He motioned a ‘One minute’ finger to the teenager he was about to put his trust into and shifted his car into park. He reached into the back seat and grabbed your Rocket Dog’s along with your purse, placing the bag in his lap.

“So, in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t really have footwear on…” he began to say.

You were just about to reply with a “No shit, Sherlock,” but he continued before you could retort anything.

“But have no fear, my dear Taylor, for I have brought your beloved shoes! And before we travel yonder, I shall help you put them on your dainty feet!” Your deranged husband cried out, thinking he sounded valiant and noble.

You thought otherwise.

“Dork.”

“Woman.”

“How is that offensive?” you asked, trying not to giggle in the process.

“Remember, I am man. Therefore, superior!”

“Uhuh, well use your superiority to get my shoes on, I don’t have all day y’know!” You would have waved your hand at him if you could have.

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Women these days, don’t know their place unless they’re in a kitchen!” He mumbled, but made sure that you could hear his ‘joke’.

And you did, giving in to laughter.

And the task at hand was a lot trickier than Gerard had imagined it could be, but finally the two of you managed to get your shoes onto your feet.

Finally.

He got out of the car, reluctantly handing his keys over to the uninterested looking kid who had waited longer than he had liked.

He looked miserable, in fact.

And Gerard couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Hell, if he got to park fancy people’s cars at sixteen he wouldn’t be too upset.

Then again, most kids had lives.

“Oh, Mr. Way! We’ve been expecting you! I'm Charlie, I'm a HUGE fan! I'll be taking your things!” the boy rushed out of his mouth.

And he was about to object to being called his father’s name, but the kid looked way too eager.

Plus, these kind of fancy places were strict about formality and all that shit. Wouldn’t want to get the poor guy in trouble. Never knew who needed a job and who didn’t.

The trunk had already been popped open and this Charlie kid was unloading the bags as if that’s what he lived for.

He was definitely getting a good tip.

“Oh, hey. Uh, okay. Well mostly everything’s in the trunk. I don’t really know what room they gave us, but I'm sure you probably do, right?”

“Yes! It’s the-“

“GERARD!” your interrupting scream cried out, slightly muffled to your husband and the busboy, as you were still in the damned car.

Trapped, in your opinion.

You tried to turn your body so that you could reach the door handle, but that proved to be problematic: Your arms didn’t bend in any way that would allow you to read said handle.

You tried to wiggle the other way to use your feet as help to open the door, but your shoe was too big to fit into the space provided.

You tried your best to lean against the center compartment and lifted your leg to kick out the window.

Then you realized how unhappy Gerard would be if you ruined his car.

And how he wouldn’t want to surprise you anymore.

Or buy you dinner.

Or presents!

So you gave up on that, too.

Instead, as your last resort, you decided to do something you’re very good at:

Scream.

“GERARD!” You called out as loud as you could.

It’s a wonder he hadn’t heard any of your other escape plans, because you’re loud as hell.

“Gerard, you better get me out of here NOW!” you tried again.

Why didn’t he realize that taking you to New York meant he had to immediately let you out and allow you to explore?

“I'M SERIOUS!” you screeched.

And Gerard heard you.

Loud and clear.

But your frantic yelling just made him smirk and roll his eyes.

He knew he’d probably get his ass handed to him later, but he had to keep you at least blindfolded for now.

He hadn’t used all of the tricks up his sleeves quite yet.

Alarmed, Charlie didn’t know what to do.

It wasn’t exactly normal for celebrity guests to bring along others who they locked inside their cars, begging for an out.

Not during the day, at least.

“Oh, that’s just my wife. She’s fine.” Gerard assured the boy, smiling.

Not having seen you, his eyes widened, but he didn’t question Mr. Way.

He wasn’t paid to ask questions.

All he did was nod his head before he left to retrieve a cart so he could tug along whatever Gerard Way was planning on doing with his… Wife…

Gerard didn’t pay any attention to Charlie’s newly shocked exterior and instead decided to at least let you out of your prison…

Car…

He strolled his way over to your passenger door and made sure you weren’t leaning against it before he opened up.

Your mouth was open and you were about to protest again when your so-called husband cut you off.

“You’re such a pain, you know that?” he said, sounding quite amused.

You, however, felt the opposite.

“I'm the pain? Me? You’re the one who’s got me stored away in here like some kidnap victim!” You exclaimed loudly.

Now Gerard’s eyes widened, even if you couldn’t see them, and he looked around hoping nobody now thought that he had kidnapped you.

Though, the kid who was waiting to park the car had taken out his blackberry and turned his attention elsewhere.

Charlie had just packed up your luggage and left for the suite.

This left you to call your husband a kidnapper at will and no one to judge you for it.

Or Gerard, for that matter.

So he didn’t worry and instead shook his head at you. He put his hands on your upper arms and rubbed his thumbs over your shoulders, ignoring your previous comment.

“We’re going to get you out of here now so I can take the blindfold off of you…” he said, calm and quiet.

Which softened you a little bit.

But did you let it show?

Of course not!

“Good! You better! Because when you take this blindfold off, and you untie me I'm LEAVING!” you shouted, not at all serious.

But Gerard didn’t know that!

“Yeah, okay. Sure you are.”

Or maybe he did…

“Yeah, well… Just get me out of this car, will you?” was all you could come up with.

And on any other day, or in any other situation Gerard might have made a smart-assed comment back, but he thought better of it.

He knew he was already in deep shit for lying to you.

So he let it go and instead did what you asked him to do and got you the hell out of that car.

You wobbled a little and had some trouble stepping down without being able to see, but it was a good thing he was there to catch you.

Even if you’d never let on about that, either.

And if you hadn’t still had your blindfold on, and your hands weren’t still tied up behind your back, then you could have considered it a romantic moment.

Anyone would have.

All of the angles were just right, your chin tilted upwards slightly and your left heel barely lifted off the ground.

Gerard’s arms were securely wrapped around your body, and he was looking down at you as you blushed at the thought of somebody seeing you.

But he didn’t care about the silent paparazzi that had been snap-shotting photos of the two of you, as long as you didn’t know about it.

“Uh, could you please let me loose now?” you asked, almost shy.

And for a second, Gerard considered giving up his plan to comply to your wishes.

But only for a second.

He did take the opportunity to lean down and kiss your nose, though.

It was probably the last kiss he’d get from you for a while.

“You’ve got to promise me two things, okay?” he asked, letting you go and giving you some space.

You were a little confused.

Wasn’t it you who should be asking him to promise you to untie you, and take that stupid piece of fabric away from your eyes?

He should be begging you for forgiveness, not asking for promises!

You sure as hell didn’t feel a little shy anymore.

“The only thing I promise to do is hit you once you get me out of this mess!” you affirmed, pursing your lips to show that you meant business.

You had every intent on hitting your husband, too.

Not in an abusive way or anything.

Just one good smack to his shoulder should do the trick.

You wouldn’t want to do too much damage, after all.

Presents were still at steak!

And you did love the guy.

Even if he was a dork sometimes.

“Taylor! That was the second thing I was going to make you promise not to do!” he whined like he had before that day.

“Well, you can forget about it!” You huffed and wriggled, restless. “What was the first?” you asked almost a second afterward, curious.

“For you not to get mad at me?” He said it as a sort of question, making you scoff.

Of course you were mad!

And you had every right to be!

Even if it was only fake.

Sue you for being stubborn, right?

Right.

“Too late, untie me!” you insisted, turning around so that you knew your backside was facing his front to give him easy access to free you.

“I will, I will,” he assured you, but before you could let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, he cut you off for what seemed like the billionth time that day.

“You can’t take the blindfold off, though. You’ve got to at least promise me that!” He sounded serious, too, which is what got you most.

The hell with that!

“Uhuh, yeah sure. Whatever. Untie me!” You urged, only half meaning it.

“Please, please don’t take it off! Please! It’ll ruin everything, Taylor!” Gerard went on, begging again.

He’d reattached himself to you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and his head taking place on your shoulder.

He pouted, his inner child protruding horribly.

You face scrunched up, not liking the idea of the situation.

It really wasn’t fair, and he knew it.

But you knew that he did go through all the trouble setting everything up.

And he did have good intentions.

And didn’t you already go over this in your head once today?

“Fine.” You gave in.

After all, he never said anything about not peeking!

“Thank you!” Gerard grinned, dragging out his ‘U’ in the process.

He pulled away and began the task at hand.

Literally.

He hadn’t tied you in tight, because he didn’t want to hurt you.

Or leave any marks.

The knots were just strong enough to keep you contained, but loose enough so that he didn’t have to struggle too much with trying to figure out how to get you out of this… kinky… situation.

But he couldn’t think about that right now.

He had to focus…

On untying you…

He-

“Not so superior now, are we?” Your voice rang through your husband’s ear in somewhat of a condescending manner.

“Huh?”

He was stooped.

“For a ‘superior man’ you sure are taking an awful long time un-knotting my hands, Mr. Way!” You teased, attempting not to laugh.

“I- shut up!” He countered, lamely.

And you couldn’t help it, you giggled.

And won.

Hazah!

A satisfied smile stayed on your lips until he was finished.

Once you were free, though, you held off on smacking Gerard.

First, your felt over your wrists, relieved that you were allowed to move again.

Because now, you were free to do plenty of things!

Like, peek from under your blindfold!

Or latch onto any gifts you might get!

Or carry a can of Dr. Pepper if you had one!

Or resort to just hitting your husband like you had to planned all along.

You turned back toward where he should have been and reached out.

When you couldn’t feel him in front of you, you made grabby hands.

Just like Jenna would have.

And he laughed, thinking you were cute.

Unexpecting.

And oh so naive.

He went to you, ready and willing for a hug, when he was stopped by your outstretched and flat palms.

“Stay.” Was all you said to him.

Just like you would have to a pet.

A dalmatian, maybe.

IF YOU HAD ONE, that is.

And that one word gave you away, but neither of you minded.

Not really.

Gerard prepared himself, squinting and contorting his face, slightly cowering to the side as he waited.

Not being able to see this, you raised your arm, ready to become part of the long list of women who beat their husbands in New Jersey when you thought of a better idea.

You forgot that you still needed to ‘get him’.

And ‘get him’, you would.

You lowered your smacking arm and brought both hands to your husband’s body, lightly feeling over his curves for his backside.

His ass, to be more precise.

Because you were going to do something so very unlike yourself, which will stun him silly.

Or, at least, you hoped.

After finding what you were searching for, and copping a good feel, you let him go and then really did some dirty work.

You slapped him, right there in New York City.

For everyone to see.

In broad daylight.

Quite a brave adventure on your part.

And a successful one, too, because as you were going about all of this madness, Gerard didn’t know what to make by any of it.

He couldn’t complain, but he did blush.

And was slightly thankful to be behind a new car, as his had been hauled off forever now, and because the photographers that you didn’t know about were eager to snap anything they could catch.

It also didn’t help any situation he’d been trying to force out of his head from before, but he wouldn’t that get to him.

He’d try not to, anyway.

“That was me getting you back. You can give me my surprise now!” he said matter-of-factly and smiled up at your husband, cheekily.

With one eyebrow arched and his thin lips pressed in a lopsided smirk, Gerard didn’t say anything.

He watched you for a second, seeing how long you could hold that fake grin of your.

The grin that got faker and funnier by the second.

And right when you were about to give up and yell again, he grabbed your arm and lead you to the sidewalk and down the street, avoiding any person that may have bumped into the two of you on their journey to wherever they were headed.

Or wherever you were headed!

The more you walked, the more honks you heard.

You could hear tons of people talking, and in several different languages.

You could smell Indian food, and then hot dogs, and then the scent of fake leather bags.

You could feel the cold air whip at your face and push back your hair.

And you smiled, because you were in New York.

You smiled a real, genuine, smile, because your husband had taken you to New York for your anniversary.

And you probably couldn’t have been happier.

Unless, maybe, Jenna was with you.

Or he got you a great, huge, amazing present.

Or a dog…

Suddenly he stopped.

This time you didn’t mind, though.

You liked being able to take a second to take everything in.

And maybe lift your free hand to sneak a peek at exactly where the hell you were.

You carefully raised your arm, trying not to draw attention to yourself, and was halfway there when Gerard’s absurdly loud “TAXI!” call made you jump, and rest your free hand on your heart instead of in front of your eyes.

“Gee, thanks, I definitely want to have a heart attack just then!” you snapped, sticking out your tongue in his direction.

He chuckled.

He’d won that round, intentionally stopping you in your tracks.

And almost instantly, a stereotypical yellow N.Y. cab pulled up to the curb, ready, waiting, and warm.

Gerard opened the door before helping you in and then pushing you over to the opposite side to give himself room.

He closed the door behind him and then cleared his throat.

“1409 Ave, please. Quickest way you can.”

“Of the Americas? Yeah, I know the place. Easy stuff.” The cab driver said.

You could pretty much smell the smoke coming out of his lips and nose.

And not only that, but there was also a mixture of beef jerky and cherry slushies?

You weren’t sure, but you didn’t really care, either.

“Any clue where we’re headed?” Your husband leaned over to whisper into your ear, even if the cabbie wasn’t paying attention to either of you.

“Nope.” You said, popping your ‘P’, sounding indifferent.

Sure you cared, but you figured that he hadn’t made you get dressed up so it didn’t matter much.

“Good.” He replied, smugly.

The two of you were silent for the duration of the ride, which wasn’t long at all.

Gerard had placed his left hand on your thigh and you were still, slumped back into the old leather back seat.

And you waited patiently, it was fine to just sit and wait.

Just for a few more minutes.

Neither of you minded the silence, with the exception of the cabbie’s hockey scores in the background.

Your mind was busy, racing with ideas of where in the world you could be going.

There was the possibility of Toys R Us, which was a day trip in its self.

Then again, there were always places you hadn’t even ventured to yet!

You knew there was a two story Disney shop that practically had Jenna’s name all over it, but there was also The Hard Rock Café, or that famous wax museum, Madame-Something-or-Other’s!

OR BROADWAY!

Now, you weren’t terribly interested in that kind of stuff…

And you really don’t think Gerard would take you there, but…

That’s just the magic of a surprise.

Gerard, however, wasn’t really thinking about where he was taking you now.

He was focusing on the later events:

The real stuff.

And he was nervous.

What if you didn’t like it?

What if everything he put together just wasn’t what you wanted?

He was anxious.

But when the taxi pulled to the curb and to a stop, he switched back to his cool and almost haughty exterior.

Couldn’t have you doubting him, too, now could he?

Not anymore than he knew you were already, anyways.

And you couldn’t sit still.

While Gerard and cab driver talked and exchanged fare, your legs started to bounce.

Your hands tapped on your knees, your fingers drumming to a nonexistent beat.

Wherever the hell you were, you were excited to be there!

And even if you had a little trouble getting out of the car, it didn’t bother you this time.

Just the feel of that New York air on your cheeks made you smile even wider and that made everything feel pretty great.

The two of you were still for a moment.

You were still just taking your time taking in the city.

And Gerard busied himself by watching you.

He’d only ever admit it while teasing you, but he cherished the moments of pure serenity sometimes.

No anger, no stress, no tension.

No confusion, no criticism, no guilt.

No worry, no pressure, no pain.

Just peace.

But in order to live out your surprise, he’d have to let you take your blindfold off sometime.

He’d have to let you loose.

He touched your cheek, an action that caught you off guard, and then pushed some of your bangs away from your face.

Even if they did fall back in place almost a second later.

You wondered what he was doing, but didn’t say anything.

You figured he’d probably just tell you without questioning.

“Okay, Taylor, you ready for that blindfold to come off now?” your husband asked, softly and slowly.

You knew he was just being a brat.

Just teasing you.

So you didn’t bother yelling.

He’d enjoy that too much.

He probably expected it.

Instead you let out a sigh and just nodded.

“Yep, I'm ready.” You replied, calmly.

Almost bored, really.

And because Gerard knew you were simply playing along, he thought he’d egg you on a bit.

The tranquility of five minutes ago was so…

Five minutes ago.

“But are you sure?” he asked, almost concerned.

Almost.

Your mouth twitched to a half smile, your eyebrows raised.

“Positive.”

“We can keep it on, if you really want to, y’know. It wouldn’t bother me. No sweat off my back!” he chirped, grinning.

“Mhm, yeah. That’s not happening. I'm taking this thing off now…”

You hesitated for a second, just to check if he’d stop you.

Surprisingly, he didn’t even try.

Him taking the blindfold off vs. you taking the blindfold off didn’t really matter.

He’d gotten you right where he wanted you.

And that had been the easy part.

He said nothing as you reached up, feeling over your face for the edge of the cloth.

You could always untie it, but that would take much longer than just shoving it off your face.

You slid your fingers underneath the material, carefully so you wouldn’t scratch your eyes out, and pushed up.

The sunlight made you squeeze your eyelids tightly together, and your forehead felt clammy, making your bangs stick to it as soon as you’d pulled it off your face.

The excess wind made you shiver.

When you were ready, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust.

In front of you, you saw a sight anyone could see on a day to day basis around here.

Especially a New Yorker.

But it still didn’t cease to fascinate you.

Just the opposite, actually.

And not being able to wait another second, you didn’t turn to Gerard or bother to give him a proper ‘Hello’.

You’d much rather see where the hell you were!

“Facing the opposite way and stepping back two or three inches, you still needed to tilt your head to see the big building.

It was old looking, and made out of stone.

A face was carved into the smooth looking rock, or maybe it was a mask.

And there was also a skull.

Metal men were climbing the walls, oddly enough.

Also, the structure looked cracked, almost, but it seemed to be on purpose.

As if it was supposed to be worn out, broken-like.

Two men stood near the creepy double doors, both clad in black top hats and cozy looking old fashioned capes.

The one who noticed you analyzing smiled at you warmly.

Reassuringly.

Willing you inside, almost.

You broke his gaze and looked up again.

Checking to see if this place had a name.

“Jekyll & Hyde Club?” you questioned your husband while reading the words on the pillar.

Now turning to him, this was the first time you’d seen him since before you left your house earlier this morning.

“This is my surprise?”

Some club?

He wanted to take you to some club?

“Yep,” he nodded, almost enthusiastically.

Part of it, anyways.

Your eyebrows arched as you crossed your arms.

“My parents took me and Mikey here for my thirteenth birthday.” He explained.

But it wasn’t much of an explanation in your opinion.

Silently, with your eyes, you urged for more.

His hand made its way to the back of his neck, his head tilting to the side.

“From what I remember, it’s sort of like a dinner theater? Like, interactive and shit. But it’s kind of got this spook vibe to it. And old English feel going on. Y’know, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? It’s kind of like their show. Kind of…” he rambled on.

And now that he’d mentioned it, you sort of remembered those characters from ‘The Page Master’.

A little.

And maybe you weren’t so keen on dinner theater, either, sure.

But you’d go anywhere with Gerard Way.

“It’s actually pretty awesome,” he encouraged unnecessarily.

“Then I can’t wait.” You replied, smiling up at him.

He took your hand and lead the two of you inside and passed the door men.

Into a musty smelling lobby.

A young girl dressed as a dreary housemaid was waiting for you, all ready to seat the pair of you.

And quite honestly, you expected to see a full house.

But you found the room to be completely empty.

Of people, that is.

The space had been filled with props galore, and a single table for two sat in the middle of everything.

Perfect , Gerard thought.

Absolutely perfect .

Although, the food turned out to be bad.

Quite awful, really.

And the show was a little cheesy.

But at the same time, you were completely embarrassed because the actors only had you and Gerard to pick on and play with.

You, being the more amusing candidate.

Afterward, instead of the both of you asking for their autographs, the cast asked for Gerard’s.

And yours, of course.

There’s a fangirl everywhere, you know.

But once the signing session was over your husband lead you out into the now dark now by hand, looking around for his next move.

The restaurant was right down the street from Central Park, but also in walking distance of Rockefeller Center, too.

And of course, Times Square couldn’t be forgotten.

Without you knowing any of it, there were ideas for all three places.

But where to go first?

What order to go in?

In an odd way, to you, everything seemed brighter at night.

Your lips pressed together, as if it was some way to stay warm, and your hand gripped your husband’s a little tighter.

There was Christmas lights up that had probably been there since Thanksgiving.

People were walking through the hustle and bustle, some carrying shopping bags.

Some carrying presents.

Some people had out there blackberries.

And some people were carrying around children.

Instantly you missed Jenna.

You’d gone a whole day without seeing with her.

Or playing with her.

Or even just being with her.

And now that you thought about it, you really couldn’t stand the feeling.

You’d been distracted all day, and you were ready to be distracted again.

Until it came time to buy her presents, of course.

Lots and lots and lots of presents.

And then some more for you, too.

Thinking about all of them made you smile, and suddenly you were being tugged again.

Gerard had decided.

You couldn’t help but notice, too, that it was in the exact opposite direction that Times Square.

That meant no shopping.

For right now, at least.

“Where are we going now?” you asked, innocently.

The tactic had failed this morning, but maybe it would prevail now.

“How’s a walk sound?” Gerard asked, casually.

A walk?

“Aren’t we walking right now?”

You were definitely suspicious.

“Well, then how about a stroll in Central Park? That better?” he teased, glancing in your direction and throwing his famous half grin.

Right about then you could have melted into the side walk.

But instead, you kept on walking with your husband as he expertly weaved you in-between everyone.

You had to cross a few streets and wait at a couple of stop lights, but finally you reached the gates.

“I've never been to Central Park before.” You thought out loud.

It was one of those places, too, that you’d always heard about, but was never really advertised.

A park is a park, though.

Grass and pathways and benches and people.

Except, of course, that it was now winter, and there was snow on the ground.

It had started snowing days ago, the first being long gone.

There hadn’t been any since last night, though.

Not that you knew of anyways.

So there wasn’t a layer over any lamp posts.

And there hadn’t been a dust of it on the bare tree branches.

There were just clumps of frozen white ice that would crunch when you stepped into it.

The kind that wasn’t even good to eat!

“Well, what do you think of it so far?” Gerard asked, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

You shivered again, and then looked around once more.

“It’s… nice…” you said, hesitantly.

Your husband laughed at your response, nodding his head.

It was true; there really wasn’t much to do in Central Park.

And there wasn’t much to look at, either.

But he definitely had a purpose for going there.

Even if it was to kill a little bit of time.

See, before he had forgotten about previous arrangements he’d made.

Special arrangements that involved you, him, and a rented out Rockefeller Skating Center.

But that wasn’t until later on in the evening.

Besides, skating right after dinner could prove to be problematic, anyways.

Best to walk it off before hand.

Especially if there was going to be a huge snowball fight in Times Square right after.

You needed your energy saved up for that, right?

Most definitely.

But before any of that could happen, the weather man’s forecast had to come true first.

Something that was out of Gerard’s hands was the fact that it may not even snow again.

Which just about killed the rest of the evening’s plans.

Instead of dreading it, though, he mentally gave the thought an optimistic shrug.

“It’ll get better.” He told you, making you smile along with him, even if you didn’t know why.

“And how do you know that, Mr. Way?” you asked, directing your gaze ahead of you.

“I do not, but I can always hope, right?”

Instead of replying you nodded, and the two of you continued walking.

And for a while, you were quiet.

Your shoes made crunching noises into the snow.

Birds flew overheard, the sound of their wings flapping the only trace of them.

You walked passed a family of four, three of whom were all together, and the youngest one trailed behind.

Awing at the all of the lights.

There were some joggers, and some more business people.

There were homeless people.

You walked by a hot chocolate stand.

And without even asking, or saying a word, Gerard pulled you aside and bought you a small cup.

He got himself a coffee.

Naturally.

And then you continued on.

Hands bound together, occasionally sipping your warm beverages.

The excitement of earlier had worn down.

Neither of you were as wound up as you had been.

For now, at least.

And it didn’t really bore you, either.

It felt nice.

The peace felt wonderful, actually.

This was something the two of you almost never had.

Alone time.

There was always Mikey, or Shelby.

Frank, Ray, Bob.

Your mom.

Jenna.

And you didn’t mind.

Not at all.

You loved every single one of them, dearly.

But you could ever just be with Gerard.

The two of you never had a moment when there wasn’t a problem with his alcohol intake.

Or someone popping in to tease you about being too mushy.

There was no crying baby here to win over your attention.

So, really, there weren’t many topics for conversation.

And fate being fate, that’s where the world took its turn.

Because right then, it began to snow.

It wasn’t anything too heave, just lightly flurries.

But just enough to stick to the ground.

Gerard noticed this, and thanked whatever kind of god or Mother Nature or weatherman there was.

Right on schedule.

He led you up the path to the bridge that overlooked a frozen pond.

The view, of course was beautiful.

And right, smack-dab in the middle, he stopped and faced you.

You watched him carefully as he looked you over.

You could see your breath, due to the cold.

You could see Gerard’s too.

And when you looked back to his lips he was smiling.

You couldn’t see his teeth or anything.

It wasn’t a smug grin, either.

He had on a smile that was almost shy.

And because of the cold, it kind of looked like he was blushing.

Almost.

“Happy anniversary, Taylor.” He whispered.

You stepped closer to him.

Smelling his coffee scented breath.

“Happy anniversary, Gerard.” You murmured before you reached up on your toes, resting your free hand on his shoulder.

He’d read your mind and leaned down, meeting you half way.

Your lips meeting in the middle, too.

It wasn’t anything sloppy, but it wasn’t at all structured.

There wasn’t much of a game plan, but there didn’t need to be.

Just a simple kiss was all.

One that lasted about three minutes.

And when you pulled away your lips were red and puffy.

Your cheeks were now red due to blushing, and not the weather.

But neither of you felt that it was important to point out.

Gerard licked his lips and for a second he looked up and passed your shoulders, behind you.

“Hey, our footprints are gone…” he commented, absentmindedly.

And without trying, you were swerved back into reality.

Your obsessive fan-meter blinking uncontrollably.

You laughed at yourself and stepped forward, carefully wrapping your arms around your husband.

“Like ghosts in snow…”