Love is White Roses Every Fourth of July

by Tiamat's Child

Watching fireworks from the yacht. Written for Independence Day. Slash.

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine.

Love is White Roses Every Fourth of July

Somewhere nearer the lamplight Joe and Sugar are laughing. Osgood and Daphne don't pay them any mind. They've bought a blanket up to the highest deck of the yacht, so that they can watch the stars before the fireworks start. Osgood gave Daphne a bouquet of white roses earlier today. He loves to watch that delighted smile.

Osgood happily admits to being a hopelessly sappy romantic.

"There's Ursa Major." Daphne says, tracing the line of the constellation's starry spine with an outstretched finger. "And there's the North Star. You can't see these in Chicago."

Green fire bursts across the sky, tumbling downward to touch the water. Somewhere below Sugar squeals in delight. Daphne grins, and so does Osgood.

Osgood's always thought that kisses under fireworks are definitely something to write home about. Tonight isn't changing that thought at all. In fact, it's rather reinforcing it.