Sharon gasped and smiled at the first burst of light in the distance. Beautiful. She'd always loved fireworks. Like magic, she thought. This, in a way, was the best of both worlds. All the beauty without deafening sounds to go with them. She chanced a side glance at her lieutenant. He was smiling broadly and as always seemed to have a sixth sense for when she was watching him. His eyes turned toward her, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"Beautiful."
Her eyes were drawn to his lips for the barest moment before she turned back to look at the brightly lit sky, "Mmmm. Yes, they are."
"Those too, but you know that I meant you." She could feel the smile in his voice down to her toes.
"You, Andy Flynn, are the world's worst flirt," she admonished but she couldn't keep her smile from broadening.
"You, Sharon Raydor, are smiling, which means I can't be all that bad," he teased.
She paused to enjoy a particularly lovely display. He was right. He made her smile. Actually, she couldn't remember smiling as much as she did with Andy in, well, she couldn't remember ever smiling this much. He made her happy. Suddenly, everything seemed much more clear. He made her happy. She needed happiness. She deserved happiness. That was enough. That just might be everything.