A/N: Fluff I wrote in about two hours (with editing, haha) that I couldn't even tell you what inspired. Apparently I'm a sap today or something…What can I say, I had time to kill… It's just some fun. Hope everyone enjoys it.

Love.

Part One - Whole

In his thirty-five years of existence Tony Almeida had been in love three times.

The first had been in his senior year of high school. It'd been his first serious relationship (which he realized when he refused to brag to his friends about whether or not they'd made it past second base) and she'd had light brown hair and big hazel eyes. It was the first time he'd really appreciated a female for what she had above the neck. He liked the delicateness of her features; her tiny nose and soft cheeks. She was pretty. Laurel was the type of person who made people say things like "who needs sugar when I've got you?". She was the first person he had sex with (when his parents visited friends for the day. For the rest of his life he'd vividly remember Hotel California on the radio in the background as he pulled off her last piece of clothing and bit his lip in concentration, urging his body not to betray him.), and the first person he could honestly admit made his heart pound. She was adorable, his mother had loved her, and there were prom pictures in an album somewhere of him in a tux and her in a slinky, floor-length, chartreuse dress standing on his parent's front lawn with their arms wrapped around each other a little awkwardly. It was your standard first romance that reached its natural end when they outgrew each other and went away to separate colleges. He'd felt sad for a few months, and the rest of college had been one or two pseudo-relationships and a couple of drunken one night stands to boot. Then came the Marines (which left little time for romance) and grad school with a couple of flings but nothing that lasted long. Nothing that made his heart pound…

The next time was Kirsten, a gorgeous redhead with peaches and cream skin and a petite figure. Unlike sweet Laurel, his relationship with Kirsten had been passionate. He remembered nights of being unable to keep their hands off each other – of literally aching for each other – and the idea of an adult relationship started to take shape. They could spend whole nights together, went out with their friends as a 'couple', and had to make sure they could visit both sets of parents together over the holidays. They weren't young, uncertain virgins trying to figure out who they were or what they wanted. They both knew what they wanted and for the first six months that was each other and only each other. Sex started to take on a different meaning too. He would wake up some mornings to her sliding his boxers over his hips and sealing her mouth around him… or she would look just too damn good to pass up and he'd practically assault her on her kitchen table or floor or whatever was in the vicinity and gave him the most leverage possible. Kirsten was the first time he'd felt the urge to seduce someone in a public place and he'd been young enough to try it (successfully) more than once. He loved her for making him feel like more of a man than anyone had before – for making him feel strong and virile – and for making him feel loved in a way he didn't know was possible. He loved her for making him feel exceptional, because unlike Laurel it wasn't a first love type of thing when you didn't know any better (and that was what made it special); Kirsten loved him because he was him and that was validating.

Things started to fall apart right around his thirtieth birthday (three years into the relationship). She wanted to take their relationship to the next level (ie: move in) and he got a new job with DOD that she didn't like. She thought it was dangerous and time consuming and didn't know why he couldn't stick with programming for private companies and be happy with normal hours and a full life together. She didn't get his drive; his passion for something other than her. And as much as he still loved her, he never fathomed being able to give up a part of who he was for her. He'd spent too long and too hard working to get where he was in his career, and he knew their relationship was dead when he realized that if Kirsten couldn't get on board than she was expendable.

She cried a lot when he ended it. She cried on the couch of her apartment while he apologized again and again for something no one should ever have to apologize for. He couldn't change who he was; he'd been that for a lot longer than he'd been with her, even if it'd taken some time to grow into his own skin. She emptied two boxes of tissues and kissed him about a thousand times as they discussed everything to exhaustion through all hours of the night. In the morning she wiped her tear-stained cheeks before pulling his mouth against hers and kissing him deeply. They made love frantically on the floor of her apartment one final time and when it was over he carried her to the bed, dressed, brushed his lips against hers softly and left without another word. They didn't speak after that, much to his relief. She'd understood it in the end.

And then there was Michelle Dessler.

He knew it was different almost immediately. Within the first two weeks of dating he realized it was obviously unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He thought maybe it was different because things had started differently, intense in a way he didn't know people actually felt… until they sunk into a routine that was anything but intense and left him a complete mess every second she wasn't with him. He ached for her on every level; when they were in the same room together and he couldn't touch her it felt like the worse kind of torture; when she fell asleep on him in the middle of a movie his entire body burned to carry her to bed, wake her up with kisses and make love to her until morning. Every second with her was bliss and every second without her was agony.

He realized why it was different. Before, whenever he'd been in love he was just that: Tony Almeida in love. He became a little more a sap and a little less cynical; happier and more content with life. With Michelle he just felt like Tony Almeida – as if he'd only been a part of what who he was supposed to be before her and this was who he really was. He didn't just feel in love, he felt whole.

It took only three weeks for him to actually admit it to himself. They'd finally gone out for dinner and a movie (their first attempt had involved him making dinner and putting on a movie from his collection. The dim lights made them bold and they were stripping each other of clothes before the end credits rolled.). As they strolled down the street towards the theatre she tugged at his hand, pulling him up on the curb beside her. A soft smile formed on her features as she slid her fingers between his and tugged him a little closer.

And then, standing in line for their movie, she'd stepped up behind him and curled her hands around his waist, her heels giving her enough height to rest her chin on his shoulder. He twisted his head to see her face, finding himself unable to care less at the looks they received; his desire to be close to her outweighed his desire to not draw attention to himself a hundred-fold.

"You want popcorn or somethin'?" he asked, his stomach clenching as her arm moved up across his chest and her body pressed further into his.

She smiled and shook her head. "No, I'm good. I'm still full from dinner."

He made a face and she sighed dramatically.

"Do you want popcorn, Tony?"

He grinned and turned around to face her, slipping his arms around her waist and drawing her close as he leaned back against the ledge behind him.

"Nah…" he assured her, a smirk on his lips as he inched her closer to him. A grin spread across her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his.

"You sure?" she raised her eyebrows and he chuckled. He was still a little overwhelmed with the idea of how close they were after only a few weeks, but it made him happy so he didn't question it.

"Uh huh." He drawled slowly, nuzzling his face against her neck. "I'd rather have dessert after the movie." His hand moved slightly lower on her waist.

"Tony!" she warned playfully, pushing him away and casting a wary glance at the people surrounding them. He tightened his grip on her, holding his mouth plainly in front of hers, refusing to loosen his hold until he got a kiss. She rolled her eyes, placing a hand on each of his cheeks and kissing him warmly.

"Behave." She warned him. He snorted. Like that was gonna happen…

And for some strange reason it was in that moment, standing in front of their theatre, that it occurred to him that he loved her. He would've given an arm and a leg to make her grin like she was in that moment, and after only a few weeks he was having a hard time remembering life before her. He'd never felt more complete than he did in that moment with her wrapped up in his arms.

"Will you make it up to me later if I do?" he mumbled against her ear. She shivered and nodded against him. He grinned and released her slightly. He was content just to watch her anyway.

In the end it fit. He realized he'd fallen in love with her over dinner and a movie.

He waited until they'd been together just under two months before he finally told her. Sitting on the couch one night he waited until she brushed past him on the way back from loading the dishwasher (she'd insisted) when he reached out an arm and pulled her into his lap. She shrieked and laughed and curled her arms around his neck right as he kissed her deeply. She beamed when he pulled away, his fingers still in her hair.

"You're gorgeous." He declared. Her eyes clouded with affection and the color rose in her cheeks.

"I didn't even get to clean up after work…" she moved to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and his hand replaced hers, completing the task for her. He took her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her palm.

"You…" he moved his lips to the crook of her neck. "Are gorgeous…" he nipped at her earlobe.

"And sexy…" her cheeks grew warm against him, but her eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to be consumed by the warmth of his body and of his words.

"And uh…" he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands and brushing his thumbs across her cheeks. "And I uh…"

Her brow furrowed and she studied him as he searched for the words on the tip of his tongue.

"And I love you, Michelle."

Her face broke into a wide smile as he bit his lip uncertainly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"I love you too."

And if possible, the way she said it made him love her even more. She didn't even look taken aback by his words. She just looked happy.

The corners of his lips twitched and his eyes returned to hers. "Really?"

She nodded slowly, intentionally bumping their noses together as her lips met his briefly. He kissed her back harder, his arms encircling her body as he tilted her back against the couch.

"Really?" his teeth tugged at her bottom lip and his tongue circled hers briefly. She nodded, kissing him again.

"How much?" his tone was teasing but his eyes were serious.

She kissed him hard in response.

"So much, Tony." There was a slight catch in her voice when she spoke and Tony felt an ache like one he'd never experienced before. He used his body to press her further into the couch cushions and sealed his lips around hers again.

Now he felt whole.