Author: LadyLockhart123

Plotline: Each couple has there own little secrets. This is just one of theirs.

Disclaimer: The ideas are mine, the show and characters aren't.

Category: The Good Wife


Midnight Breakfasts

If they are ever asked how the tradition came about, both would merely shrug as an answer. For neither of them know how exactly this little tradition of theirs truely began. Although, each couple do have their own little secrets, and this is simply just one of theirs.

Unknown by the outside world. Undiscovered by the world outside their bubble.

If it ever did come to be revealed, some may think this tradition is absurd, silly, maybe foolish. Some may not garner on why they do it. But as far as they are concerned, the intimate method of spending time together is unknown to anyone else but them. And they intend on keeping it that way. It's a simple romantic gesture between them both, a way for them to lost touch of the real world and focus solely on them. Just a husband and wife, living, loving, liberating.

If possible, the simple gesture of love, willingness, need, and want, connects them on a level. They both know spending time apart is hard, especially at this stage of their lives. They've spent many years running, until one eventually slowed to let the other catch them. And now, with the vow that keeps them connected to one another, no matter how far apart or how long apart, they know that they truely belong to one another. Till death do them part.

She comes down the stairs, her hair toussled from the amount of times she's run a hand through it during the day. It's finally the weekend, and thank god for that. She enters the kitchen, just in time to see her husband reach for the two plates on the counter-top. She smiles fondly. Something deep inside her always stirs when they do this. Maybe it's the build up of secret excitement in preparation for it. Maybe it's the love she has inside her for the man she shares this gesture of affection with. Maybe it's the private conversations, stolen kisses, secret glances that they share. She doesn't know, but she doesn't mind. The feeling is welcomed.

He turns in time the see her turn away, a hint of a smile on his lips as he sees one of her own. It's clear, the feeling is mutual.

She pushes the back porch door open, her hair blowing lightly as she steps out into the cold, midnight air. She stands by the door, waiting for him to join her, then closes it behind when he's outside. They take a seat on the steps leading off the porch into the garden, Diane never tiring of the prepossessing view that she has come to discover and love, just as she has with the man beside her.

A canopy of luminous stars materialize among the ocean of blackness. Some are dull, merely flickering into existence every now and then, but there is an adequate amount of shimmering stars to illuminate the dark, moonless night. The pond on the edge of the property glistens, mirroring the dazzling assemblage of glittering stars. The faint wind brushes against the water's surface, the ripples ruffling the stillness of the surface, and shattering the reflection of the sparklng diamonds above.

"Thank you for the flowers today," She says softly, acknowledging him that the familar, yet spontaneous gesture is always appreciated.

"You've always noted they were your favorite." He nods, his hand reaching and pressing hers for a moment, before he lets go and replaces his fork there again.

"Ever since our wedding day." She agrees, a smile gracing her lips. He leans in then, placing a warm, affectionate kiss there, revelling in the feel of her pushing forwards to him.

When they pull back, each a little breathless, they continue to finish their tradition. Their midnight breakfast. They share news that isn't related to work, keeping the topic off the table is a solemn promise they made for when they indulge like this. They share stories and memories of their pasts, learning more about the other than they ever would have imagine.

Kurt knows that when they elude the world and shield themselves inside their little bubble, she lets her walls down. Maybe not all, but certainly more than anyone will ever see, and he's more than grateful that he is the man she's revealing herself to. Telling him how she became the woman she is today.

The woman he loves.

He watches adoringly, as she places her empty plate over his and moves them to her side, then slides closer to him, her hand finding a way around his to hold onto his inner-forearm. Her head rests against his shoulder. Sometimes he wonders to himself how he got to be the man she wants to spend her life with.

"Did you ever plan on getting married?"

She inhales slowly, digesting the question. "Honestly? I'm not certain."

Her answer only seems to confuse him, and she straightens up to look at him, eye to eye.

"My father was my idol, Kurt. Everything I did was to make him proud, I wanted to be just like him. Well, apart from his.. sloppy drunk side." She finishes lightly, proving just how much she still admires the man. "My mother, gosh I was a disappointment to her. She wanted me to marry young, have three kids..be a nurse."

He snorts and laughs lightly as he pictures her dressed in a nurse uniform, clipboard in hand. "You a nurse?" He nods.

"Yes." She chuckles, surprised at his reaction. "Why is that so funny?" She shoves his shoulder gently, letting her body lean closer.

"I'm just thinking of you as a nurse."

She rolls her eyes playfully, letting out a sigh of feigned annoyance. "Well, think of it this way. Had I been a nurse we wouldn't be sitting here discussing this today." She lets her jaw hang slightly, waiting to hear his reaction. Yet the only one she gets is him leaning forward and placing a light kiss on her lips, causing a small smile to spread across her lips.

"Your dad was a drunk?" He refers back to her father, and she looks out over the property.

"Yeah, but he wasn't that bad. He was a respected man, everyone had great things to say about him. That's why it was so hard finding out what he did to Jake." Her eyes find their way back to his, his grey orbs full of compassion. "And when I say sloppy I don't mean he was in bars seven nights a week, he just indulged whenever he got the chance."

He gives her a small smile, admiring the way she defends her father, even without his presence. From what she's told him before and along with the information she's sharing tonight, he can't help but believe her father was a good man, and he raised a good daughter to prove it.

She shares more about her father, and he makes sure to listen to her each and every word, enjoying each story she shares, each detail she reveals about her and her life before him. He's told her many stories about his past, always willing to share, and now that she is doing the same he cannot help but feel even closer to her. After a while, they decide to call their night to an end.

Well, almost.

For it's later in the night, when she has her forehead pressed against his, her breath ragged, hot and heavy as it meets his replicating breaths. After they've slowly, tenderly, lovingly, brought each other to their pleasurable peaks, he realizes that he doesn't need to know how he managed to be the man she loves, wants, needs.

As long as he continues to be that man to her, with her standing by his side, he doesn't have to know exactly why. All he needs to know is that she'll always be there.

Always.