Miguel knew you needed a break; hell, he needed one too. Life in Nueva York was anything but peaceful for the two of you. Being part of Spider Society leadership means a constant baseline of stress; he manages it with you as a team, but it’s still taxing.

Worse, you never take time for yourself. He lost count of how many holidays you worked through, late nights, sometimes not truly resting for weeks on end.

He decided awhile ago that your birthday would not follow the same pattern.

Almost wound up dragging you kicking and screaming—too many important missions, you said—but in the end there wasn’t much you could do about being tossed over his broad shoulder. Now he’s got you in his car for an evening drive, passing through scenic byways and winding roads to reach one of your favorite spots.

He glances over at you from the driver’s side of his car, one hand drifting to your lap. His thick fingers cup your thigh comfortably, thumb brushing in a soothing stroke.

“Almost there, querida.”

It’s not long until he parks the car at an overlook; a high ridge that has a stunning view of the city. Dusk bleeds into night, stars emerge, and the skyline glows.

“There…far away from the noise,” he murmurs. He switches off the ignition and leans back with a sigh. “No missions, no crises, solo tu y yo.”

He reaches for you, taking your hand in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing a slow kiss to them. And then another on the back of your hand…then your wrist…trailing a heated line of them up your arm.

“Feliz compleaños, mi tesoro.” A grin flashes over his lips as he pulls back to look at you. His seat pushes back at the same time he scoops you from the passenger side, tugging you onto his lap as his arms loop around your waist.

“Now, what would you like from me, mi vida? Anything, you can have it.”