I woke up this morning like I wake up every morning, my arms wrapped around the goddess I that I am more than proud to call my own. She looks so beautiful lying there, curled up on her side with strawberry-colored locks framing her porcelain face. Even in her dreams, there is the faintest smile playing about on her lips. I long to reach out and trace her lips with my fingers, to feel her smooth skin beneath my fingers once more. I resist the impulse to press gentle kisses along her face until she wakes up next to me. I want to see those beautiful blue eyes staring at me in wonder, just like every other morning. I want to scoop her up next to me and never let her go. I pull back the comforter and slid out of bed. The chilly air hits my body in a rush as I break away from the gentle warmth of her body. Pausing as I stand up, I fear that she has stirred from her perfect slumber. She simply rustles underneath the sheets and falls back into the dreamy state that she longs for when she drifts off to sleep after a hard day's work. Wearing only my boxers, I go to the bag I had prepared last night before we collapsed into bed together. I unzip the bag quietly, knowing full well that she is only a few feet away and can bolt from sleep at the sound of a pin dropping to the ground. I pull out a small CD case and trudge over to the stereo. After I make sure things are in order, I grab a robe and make my way downstairs.

In the kitchen, I pull out the beginnings of crepes that I have been waiting weeks to make for her. They heat up in the skillet and I watch them closely so that they will not burn. This small pancake-like food is extremely delicate, almost like the woman I am making them for. But, unlike these crepes, the woman in the next room does not flaunt her delicacy . . . though I know it is there . . .

When everything is finished (created with virtually no noise, of which I am most proud), I make the final arrangements on the tray. A single orchid, slender and sleek, floats in a crystal vase. The crepes are arranged perfectly with a glass of water. 'Time for the show to begin,' I think as I ascend the stairs quietly.

I enter our room and set the tray on the table next to the bed. I reach out my hand and, finally, I touch her beautiful face as she opens her sparkling eyes. She flashes me a perfect smile and my heart jumps in my chest.

"What's all this?" She asks me dreamily. I give her lop-sided grin and look into her eyes, teasing her gently.

"Breakfast, silly." She laughs and just that small sound makes me love her even more, makes me want her even more.

"I know that, but something seems different . . . you're . . . cheery this morning."

"As apposed to . . . "

"Oh nothing . . ." She gave him one more brilliant smile as he stood in front of her.

"Get ready for this, Cath, because, for your viewing pleasure, I am going to make a complete fool of myself."

"The occasion . . .?"

"You'll see . . ." He stood before her, clad only in boxers, before walking over to the CD player. He turned it on and flipped to song number five. Music flooded through the room and Gil walked closer to the bed where Catherine was sitting upright, waiting. Without a moment's hesitation, he began to sing, low and soft, never breaking eye contact with her.

"What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key."

Gil walked closer to her and reached out to grasp her hand in his, smiling gently as he sang the next part.

"Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends
What do I do when my love is away
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day,
(Are you sad because you're on your own?)"

Catherine covered her mouth to stiffle her giggles as he sang thewoman's part of the song completely out of tune. Her heart beatfaster and more gayly in her heart with every word flowing from hismouth. She knew that, no matter how off-key he was, he meant thewords he sang to her . . .

"No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody
I need somebody to love
Could it be anybody
I want somebody to love."

On the last line, he grasped her face and stroked it gently. He kept singing, low and soft, then high and a bit squeaky. He was utterly adorable. Catherine wondered how she was fortunate to have someone this amazing in her life . . . unknown to her, Gil was thinking the same thing as he continued his song.

"Would you believe in a love at first sight
Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time
What do you see when you turn out the light
I can't tell you but I know it's mine,"

He sang the words until the song faded out and the chorus repeated. Catherine was smiling brightly and Gil looked almost afraid of her reaction. She knelt in front of him and placed her hands on the side of his face. Their eyes met as she reached up and captured his lips in hers. The kiss was passionate and perfect just like their relationship . . .

"Now what was all this for?" Her glossy eyes looked into his expectant ones.

"Because I can . . . because I love you that much, to do all this for you." She smiled at his sincere words and chuckled a bit.

"If I may ask . . . who are your 'friends' that you got help from?"

He smiled at her as they tumbled into bed together once more . . . "Oh just a man by the name of Joe Cocker who sang this little ditty . . ."

"Ditty? Oh Gil, you never cease to amaze me with that odd vocabulary . . ."

"Are you complaining about my vocabulary?"

"Of course not . . . why would I complain about anything having to do with you?"

They laughed and he held her close, never wanting the moment to end and yet knowing that it wouldn't . . . as long as they were together, he was more than happy.

*The End*