If I Can't Have you

(38) Jems Birthday

"What the actual fuck?" Tommy groans, reaching for his gun hearing an extremely loud ruckus downstairs in Jemimas house.

He'd been staying there almost most nights every week, Finn had essentially been living at Pollys. That was a conversation that needed to be had.

They'd celebrated their one year anniversary a couple months ago, he'd taken her back to the place they'd gone for their first date.

"Where are you going?" Jemima croaks, as he gets out of bed.

"To put a hole in someone's head," Tommy says, pulling on a pair of trousers and an undershirt, turning back to her, kissing her cheek, "happy birthday, love. I'll be back in a couple of minutes. If you hear a gunshot ignore it."

"No murdering people in my house on my birthday," Jemima says.

"And people call me a funsponge," Tommy teases, winking at her before making his way out of the room.

He didn't know why he was not surprised when he found Max, John, Arthur, Ada, Finn, Arlo, Isla in addition to Polly and Levin - who had probably been dragged into this, standing in the living room.

"What are you idiots doing?" Tommy says, placing his gun down.

"We came to surprise the birthday girl," John grins.

"At seven o'clock on a Saturday?" Tommy asks.

"Obviously," Max shrugs.

"We tried to convince them," Polly sighs.

"We have presents," Arlo smiles, holding up a gift that he was barely able to carry, which Levin then helped him put down on a table.

"We're also making breakfast, want some?" Finn says.

"It's too early for this shit," Tommy mumbles, grabbing his gun, turning and walking back up the stairs.

"Who was it?" Jemima asks.

"Who do you think?" Tommy says.

"We better get up then," Jemima says, with a yawn.

"Wait," Tommy replies, pulling out a couple of presents from beneath her bed where he'd hidden them last night.

He slid back into bed beside her, "they can wait a couple more minutes."

"Presents?"

"Evidently," Tommy deadpans.

Jemima leans forwards to kiss him, "thank you."

"You don't even know what they are, love," Tommy responds.

"They're from you," Jemima says.

Tommys heart flutters. Just because they were from him it made them special? That was a nice thought. He never had been too good at present buying so hopes he doesn't let her down.

He pulls one back from the pile, "save this till last."

She carefully unwraps the first present, a wide smile spreading across her face. It was a small photo album of them. Arlo had somehow got his hands on a camera, and was insistent on spending an entire night at the garrison following people around and snapping candid photos of them.

"I love this one," Jemima beams.

"Why?" Tommy questions, it was the blurriest of the lot.

"Because you were drunk and telling me how much you love me," Jemima says.

"I'm hoping I told you that I love you a lot otherwise it'd be a strange picture to choose," Tommy chuckles.

"A lot is an understatement," Jemima teases, placing it on her bedside table.