There was a knock at the door.
Colette set her uniform hat down on a nearby table and fluffed her hair. She had just arrived in London for a brief layover. She hopped on one foot on her way to answering the door, first removing one heel, and then the other. She left them where they lay on the floor behind her, then tossed her jacket on the back of a nearby chair.
She opened the door to Dean's smiling face. He was leaning against the doorframe, as if he'd been waiting for her.
"Hello Miss," he said.
"Captain." There was a brief pause. "What a surprise."
"Can I come in?"
She raised an eyebrow at him and let him into the foyer.
"I don't have long," she said, as she shut the door and followed him inside. "I'm expecting my husband any minute."
"Yeah?" Dean crowded her personal space, nearly backing her up into the door.
"You may have heard, he just return to work after a brief… hiatus," Colette stepped closer to Dean, ran her hands up the front of his captain's jacket, and wound them around the back of his neck. "I'm going to celebrate with him."
"Hmmm." Dean put his hands on her hips and pulled her solidly against him. "Interesting that you're a married stewardess. I thought Pan Am didn't allow that."
"They don't." She gave a little shrug and smiled coyly as her fingers played in his hair, but her flushed face gave her away.
"How do you work around your marital status?" he asked, eyes twinkling. His face was inches from hers.
"Well it's a secret marriage. It keeps things… interesting." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"Your husband is a lucky man," Dean said, finally succumbing to the urge to kiss her. He felt her head tilt up, her lips answering his kiss, her body moving against his and his own body responding to her, and he knew what he said was true. He was lucky to have her. He brought a hand up into her hair, cupping her head, loving the feel of the soft strands in his fingers. Loving her.
"He's pretty wonderful, too." She said in a breathy voice that made heat rush all over his body. "And irresistible," she added. She started working at removing their clothing, and he could feel her fingers brush his skin as he shrugged out of his jacket.
"I think our first flight was a success, don't you?" He grabbed the hand those fingers belonged to and kissed them. He loved her hands. "Though I don't know how I made it six hours without doing that."
She paused in her work for a moment and looked at him with concern seeping through the passion in her eyes. "Dean, are you still sure? You could get fired."
"I'm not ready to stop flying with you," he said, moving on to nuzzling her neck and maneuvering them to the bed. "Are you?"
"Not at all. I just don't want you to get into trouble because of me."
"I'm used to it," he teased. "But, does being my wife" – he beamed when he said that and her heart did a little flutter – "in any way make you less capable of doing your job?"
He fell back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him, and she laughed.
"You sound like Maggie."
His breath caught in his throat when he looked at her amused face; he wasn't sure he'd ever get use to the way she made him feel.
"Maggie has a point. And you, Mrs. Lowrey, are very sexy when you worry about me."
She touched the side of his face, her thumb running lazily over his dimple, and a rush of emotion swept over her. She whispered something he didn't understand in French, followed by something he did, "I love you."
He rolled them over so he was on top of her and smiled at her. "I love you, too."
"You are going to make me late for debriefing, you know," she said as she wrapped her arms around him and brought him down for another kiss.
"I know."
