Disclaimer: Mutants are Marvel's.  This story is mine and is a part of the 'Facing The Music' timeline.
 

      That picture had to be in these boxes somewhere, Sam thought with a sigh.  It had to be.  He had searched every other place in the mansion, gone through all the photo albums, and asked everybody he could think of.  Kitty had remembered taking a picture of the New Mutants on Valentine's Day, one with Doug, Illyana, Amara and Xi'an in it just before they left for a party at Stevie's, which proved the photo wasn't a figure of his imagination.  Though at this point, he was willing to bet that someone had taken it and hidden it just to torment him.

      He could see that picture in his mind.  Berto had ended up looking like a cross between Michael Jackson and a young Ricky Martin.  He had been planning to wear his daddy's tie, until Doug had taken him to his home to pick up something that didn't look, as he put it, like a clown tie.  Illyana had gotten her demons to make her a dress while Amara had gone to the mall.  Xi'an and Dani had gone to Goodwill and found vintage dresses.   Rahne was wearing a cute bluish purple dress that had set off her eyes so beautifully, one that she and Dani had actually made.   Warlock had twisted himself into a heart, framing the group with his body.

        Sam remembered that dress, the way the silk felt on his hands as he danced with Rahne at the party.  She had laughed and looked so happy then, their first Valentine's Day together.  And he wanted to give her a picture of all of their friends.  He had even bought her a picture frame weeks ago.

        Now he was combing through a stack of papers from their school days, hoping against hope that he could find it.   Graded school papers were tossed in with training programs, magazine articles and menus.  He started to go through each of them, hoping that the picture would fall out.

        The school papers were surprising.  Sam didn't remember writing half of the ones that had his name on them, such as the twenty page paper on Joan of Arc.   He did remember the creative writing exercises the students had done under Magneto's teaching.  He opened it, almost afraid of what he would find.

       While he loved science fiction, he had never been a good writer.  He remembered the almost scornful way that red ink would appear over his assignments written in a hurried scrawl.  It had been that way for most of the students, Sam discovered to his surprise.

        Rahne's work was found in another folder, thicker than the combined works of the other New Mutants.  Inside, Sam was surprised to discover numerous rough drafts, rewrites, and improvements, all gently coached by the same man who had graded the other students.  Words like 'Good', 'Excellent', and 'Shows potential' had accompanied each rewrite of a series of Alystraea stories.  And the final polished draft of each of the five stories Sam read was wonderful, even if he was biased.

        Sam blinked, remembering the way that Rahne would struggle through her classes, stay up late at night to finish her assignments, and push herself daily.  She had been forcing herself to fill the holes left by Craig's instance on home schooling her.  Often, Sam or one of the other New Mutants would sit by her and help her.   School was tough for the young woman.

        But, it was clear that in this one area, Rahne outshone the other students.  In fact, if Sam was any judge, she had real talent when it came to weaving words together.  He picked up the final drafts and quickly made plans.  That picture, the perfect gift, was lost.  But Rahne would be so surprised to see her old stories, lovingly typed and bound into a book.

        And once they were typed up, Sam could call a friend of his who had contacts in the publishing industry, and fine an agent to sumbit them to the publishing companies.  If nothing came of his efforts, Rahne would never know.  And if something did, she would be a published writer.

        With a satisfied nod, Sam quickly stood up.  It was two o'clock in the morning and he had to get busy if he was going to get the stories typed by three o'clock in the afternoon.  Especially since he used the hunt and peck method when it came to typing.

**

        Bobby slipped out of the bed he and Emma shared and made his way to the front door.  The only way his idea was going to work was if he managed to get everything in without Emma suspecting a thing.  A fifty, slipped to the florist, had insured that he got his floral delivery at three o'clock in the morning.  Three dozen roses, each different from the others, were quickly set up in the bedroom.  With an inspired idea, Bobby took one red rose and wrapped the Wall Street Journal in it.

        And then he really got to work.  Emma had a near fetish for anything related to Cleopatra, collecting anything and everything she could find related to the ancient ruler.  There were nights that Bobby went to sleep watching the woman bidding on items from online auction pages, trying to complete her never-ending collection.

        By a miracle and using a hefty bribe, he had managed to convince a seller to sell two iron plates to him, snatching them out from Emma's nose.  Not any plates mind you.  These were used to make pictures for an 1870 edition of Shakespeare's 'Cleopatra and Mark Anthony'.  A book Emma had been lacking, until Bobby gave it to her as a Christmas gift.

        Bobby had consulted Emma's interior decorator for a suitable frame for the pictures and the ideal location to display them.  Although he knew that he was taking a risk in rearranging Emma's place, she had assured him that he should try to make the place more homely to him.  Quickly and quietly, Bobby hung the plates in Emma's guestroom.

        When Emma was a child, she had Miss Meow, a sweet tempered mixed breed.  >From the few times Emma spoke of the cat, it was clear that she had loved the animal dearly.  But when her mother redecorated the house, the older woman proclaimed that the animal clashed with the new décor, left cat hairs everywhere, and was a general nuisance.  One day, Emma came home from school and the cat was gone.  Her mother claimed that the cat had run off.  And at eight years old, Emma believed her and waited for the animal to return for weeks.

        So, this year, Bobby's real gift was a longhaired white kitten named Basset that he had rescued from the animal shelter that afternoon.  It took another fifty to get the receptionist to deliver it at this time of night.  And an extra twenty to get the woman to bathe the cat.  One look at her bloody hands, and Bobby slipped her another twenty.  Evidently, like Emma, this cat had spirit.

        And then he slipped into the bed and kissed his girlfriend awake.

**

        Cecilia Reyes had been at a loss as to what to give Hank McCoy.  What do you give a hyperactive genius who thought that sleep was something to be penciled into his daily planner?   While a damn good way to get sleepy might be a good idea, she had discovered it was impossible to exhaust the man.  Hank gave new meaning to the word insatiable.

        He was also so childlike it nearly broke her heart at times.  He'd be the one to stop her and show her a butterfly, to pat a dog, or to join in a game of Frisbee.  When they went hiking in Florida, he'd spend hours sitting beside a waterfall, gently reciting poetry as he soaked his feet in the cool water.  And now that it was snowing, he'd gleefully start a snowball fight with a group of children.

        And to compound the problem, they had just rekindled their relationship at the medical conference in Florida last month.  The hearts and flowers just didn't seem right.

        So, with a damned if you do shrug, she had bought him an assortment of children's toys.  And it seemed her gift was the sheer joy of watching him being fascinated by the spinning tops, Jacob's ladder, and slinkie.  Currently, he was racing slinkies down the stairs, experimenting with ways to increase their speed.

**

        Moira was a very practical person.  When Rahne asked her what she wanted for her birthday, Moira had told her she wanted a year's worth of free car washes and never to have to fill her tank again.  Her Christmas gift from Kitty was the most advanced voice powered dictation system in existence.   But an automatic vegetable chopper on Valentine's day?  From her long-term boyfriend?  That just wasn't right.

        She gingerly held the item pinched between two fingers and looked at Sean.  "What?" she asked him, hoping for an explanation.  "There were no vacuum cleaners in Wal-Mart?"

        After a year and half of dealing with Jubilee, Sean had learned to hide a smile.  "A just thought... remember that extra sharp cheddar cheese you bought?"

        Moira absolutely loved cheese.  Cheddar, Colby, Feta, Monterey Jack.  It didn't matter as long as it was real cheese.  And her favorite kind was extra sharp cheddar.  And the last time Sean called, she had been grating a three-pound block by hand.  "And this is to help?"

        Sean nodded.  "And for that chocolate chip cookie recipe you love but never make-" Moira gave him her 'I'm a mother, don't mess with me' stare, the one that almost sent Pete Wisdom running for cover for that.  Finally Sean smiled.  "You should see what it does to carrots."

        "A donnea care what it does to carrots!"  Moira snapped, agitated beyond belief.

        "Trust me," Sean told her.  "You will love it."

        The look she shot him at that moment would have pulled burning flesh from skin if his back wasn't turned to her as he pulled out a carrot.   "A donnea care," she repeated.

        Sean continued as if she hadn't spoken.  "Watch..." he showed her.  "Put a carrot in the top," he said as he cupped a hand under the faucet.  "And turn it on."  After a brief second, the machine stopped.  He turned his hand over and showed her the diamond.

        Moira blinked as she realized that there was no orange in his hand, only a large diamond ring.  Sure, they had worked on fixing their relationship, and sure she had agreed to marriage as an idea.  And since seeking help, she wasn't against marrying Sean... but a diamond?

        She opened her mouth, fully expecting a tirade to come tumbling out.  Something about it being so sudden, so unexpected, that he was still expected to train the students in the States and she had her work to do on Muir Island.   Instead, Cupid took control of her voice box.  "Yes...."

     She looked at him stunned.  She actually meant that word, much to her surprise.  And she decided to take a chance on an uncertain tomorrow.  "Just don't rush me to set a date...." she tacked on.

     Sean already knew that, "That's what Rahne suggested last night..." he whispered as he held her.  "I just wanted..." It was hard to explain what motivated him to ask her to marry him.  He wanted a more serious title to call her.  He wanted proof that she was his, as masculine as it sounded.  But most of all he knew that this was a good idea.

**

        Betsy looked up at her boyfriend.  "What is this?" she asked as she held up the tackiest flag she had ever seen.  Neon blue and orange clashed with a truly ugly shade of pink on a three and half inch flag.

        Warren had decided to borrow an idea from Sean when it came to his girlfriend's gift and get her something romantic. He looked at his new Rolex watch and noted he had estimated her reaction time to the second.  "You always complain about forgetting where you park the car at the mall...." he said in a mischievous tone of voice.  "So you can tie that on the antennae and you'll can't miss the car."

        "If that was on my car, I would not want to find it."  Betsy snapped.

        Warren slipped another box on the table.  "Then you might be interested in this."  He had invested a lot of money into researching and developing a solution to his girlfriend's problem, knowing that she wasn't the only person with a problem like that.

        Inside the box was a tasteful gold key fob.  With a puzzled look, Betsy held it up.  "What's this?" she asked again.

     Warren handed her a contraption.  "This goes under the hood of your car, and sends a homing signal to the key fob," he explained as he grabbed her hand.  "And a faint beep will guide you straight to your car."

        Betsy smiled and laughed.  Some women might have romantic boyfriends.  Other might have totally clueless ones.   She had somehow lucked up and found one that liked to discover big and small ways to help her.   She held tightly onto the key chain and looked at him.  "Thank you..." she whispered.

**

        For as long as she and Scott had been married, Jean had wanted to change the look in their bathroom.  It was beyond awful in her mind.  The color scheme screamed 'replace me!', she had complained on more than one occasion.  She had even bought the wallpaper and the matching border, a new towel rack, towels and trash can and stashed them in the bedroom closet until she found time to do it.

     Not exactly a dozen roses, a romantic card, a box of candy and a teddy bear, Scott knew, but something that Jean had made a point of wanting done.  A clear and unmistakable point.  And it was something unique that he could do for her.

        So he had managed to get Storm to ask Jean to go to town with as he and Cable quickly got to work.  In the course of two hours, the men managed to get the bathroom just the way Jean dreamed it could be.  Then Scott got to work, stocking an assortment of bath oils, gels, bubble baths, and other ways for her to pamper herself in the room.

     The bathroom was her place to unwind, and it was going to be as tranquil as possible when he got done.  Moving things around under the sink, he found room for the lavender candles he found, right next to the  assortment of relaxation CD's for the new speaker system that his son had installed.

**

        Jean walked in the boathouse, hands full of bags to fix Scott's favorite dinner, fully expecting for him to have forgotten the day.  She grumbled as she put up the food, berating herself for not working on their relationship, not focusing on the things all the books said were important.

     Besides cooking his favorite meal-- steak, cabbage in vinegar, cranberry sauce, and angel food cake– she hadn't thought that much about his gift.  Even this was last minute, almost an atonement for her splurges today.   And the sad thing was, more than likely, he wouldn't notice her new haircut or new make-up.  As for that new teddy she bought, it had been so long since they had made love, she doubted he would even see it.

        And then she walked into the bathroom.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the effort.  Scott looked up as he replaced the toilet paper holder in surprise as his wife started to cover him with kisses.

        And she was right-- he never had the chance to see that new teddy she bought.

**

        Terry walked down stairs at about ten Valentine's day and saw Tabitha making sandwiches.  "For Berto?" she asked.

     Tabitha nodded, mischief dancing in her eyes.  "Yep... I worked it so he has nothing to do but watch Magnum PI and stay in bed all day today."  She slipped the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in an insulated picnic basket, along with a bottle of champaign, some fruit, cheese and crackers.

        Terry looked from her to the basket.  "And where are you going to be?" she asked, trying her best not to pry.

        It was impossible to keep a secret in the fish bowl they lived in.  "Who do you think is going to be in bed with him?" Tabitha asked in a tone of voice that left no room for doubt what was going on.  "That's a two hour tape I've got," she added.

        Terry laughed and threw a towel after the blonde.  "Have fun..."

        "I will!"  Tabitha said breezily as she gathered the supplies.  "Have fun on your date with Jimmy."  And with that, she bounced out of the room.

**

        "Gee..." Pete said dryly as he held up an Ian Fleming novel.  "James Bond... you shouldn't have."  He hated the fact that people thought he loved James Bond just because he was a British spy who wore black and white.

        Kitty bounced on the bed, glad to have gotten a reaction.  "Return it then."  She handed him a gift certificate and watched the smile grow on Pete's face.  He didn't like to advertise the fact he loved to read, but he did.  He justified it by saying that you never knew what would be handy to know on a mission, but the truth was Pete Wisdom was an old fashioned bookworm who would read cookbooks for a lack of anything else.  He had a reverence for the printed word that was quite rare in this day and age.

        "Thank you."  He kissed her.  "And this is for you," he handed her a wrapped box.

        Kitty gleefully tore in to the box and pulled out a wrist rest and a keyboard.  "Pete?" she asked, confused.  She tried to type a few words to get a feel for the keyboard, which was like no other keyboard she had ever seen.  The keys were split and at an angle.

        Pete explained.  "As much time as you spend on the keyboard, Kit, I thought you might want to try and protect yourself from Carpal Tunnel Syndrome."  Kitty smiled at the keyboard and kissed him.  "Because if you don't, your hands will start to hurt... and I'm fond of your handwork."

        "You are?"  Kitty asked with a daring note in her voice.

        Pete nodded.  "Want to try some repetitive motion?"  She laughed at the pun and pushed him down on the bed.

**

     It was possible to hate and love a moment, Rahne knew from experience.  These last seconds were the worst because these were the ones that she missed him the most in.  And they were the best because she was on pins and needles, knowing she was going to see him soon.

     She clutched the envelope tightly, hoping that he would love her gift.  How could he not?  She had spent days looking high and low for it.  And he was so sentimental it was adorable.  No, this was the perfect gift.

     Then she landed the Runner and saw Sam.  Every corny expression was true in a moment like this.  Her heart stood still, her eyes were huge, and her heart was fluttering.  And when they hugged, she found her home, the one place on earth that she belonged.

     "Happy Valentine's Day!"  Sam said as he handed her a thick book.

     Rahne was so nervous, she didn't bother to look at it.  Instead, she pressed the manila envelope in his hands.  "A just found it this mornin' and A didn't have time tae get a frame for it..." she babbled.  "A hope ye like it."

     Sam pulled out the picture and laughed at the Valentine's Day picture of the New Mutants.  It was ironic that they both wanted to give each other the same gift.  And sweet, and another  sign that they were meant for each other.

     "Don't worry, Furtop," he reassured her.  "Ah've got the perfect frame for it."

     Rahne looked up at her.  "How?" she asked stunned.

     Sam kissed her.  "It's a long story..." he started.  "What can I say?  It's Valentine's day..."