Title: Stress Relief. From the "Going to the Chapel series"

Summary: Wedding planning can be stressful. Luckily Vicki's got a cure.

Rating: Same old same old

Disclaimers: See above.

Shout-out- I know I don't say it enough, but thank you to all of lovely readers and reviewers! Your words of encouragement have enabled me to come this far.

Vicki stomped tiredly into her and Henry's apartment, dropping the bags in her hands along the way and cursing under her breath. She had spent the entire day with her mother, shopping for her impending wedding. The problem was that mother and daughter did not exactly share the same taste in, well, anything. Marjorie Nelson was more inclined towards Town and Country, lace and frills, while her daughter was more Guns Weekly and nothing that could even be considered girly. They had spent almost the whole day at loggerheads, and were only able to "agree" on anything when Vicki had insisted, "You know, Mom, with all the crap you gave me about getting married, you'd think that you could let me pick my own damn wedding items!"

Marjorie's face had fallen so quickly that Vicki had wished for a moment she could just "vamp" her nasty words away, like Henry could. She had apologized for being so cranky, and her mother had graciously accepted, telling Vicki, "I am your mother and just want what's best for you. I want your wedding day to be perfect." Vicki has assured her that it would be perfect, as she was marrying the man of her dreams. The resolution of the argument hadn't completely dissolved her foul mood, however, and she bore the scars of it as she entered her home. Henry, ensconced in his workspace, had been able to hear her since she had gotten near the 7th floor. As she walked in, he cautiously poked his head out. Years of experience had taught him never to get too close to a potential battle without scouting the territory.

"Vicki?" he called out, unsure. She sighed, and said, "You probably heard me the second I got in the building, didn't you?"

"Is it safe?" he asked, only half-joking. She said, "Well, I'm not armed. You have a better chance than Mike did."

"I'm sorry your day went badly," he replied, walking out to join her. She sighed again, hugging him close to her. "I just wish my mom and I could spend two minutes together without arguing. Do you realize she probably likes you better than me? I mean, when we finally told her about the whole 'you're a vampire' thing, the only thing she said in response was, 'Well, I suppose it'll be a night wedding then?'."

"Well," Henry replied, chuckling, "you clearly missed the part where she said, 'I know that you are a good man, but if you hurt my daughter, so help me God I'll stake you in daylight.'"

"She didn't!" Vicki exclaimed. Seeing the look on Henry's face, she gasped. "Oh, my God. She did."

"Well, she echoes my own sentiments," replied Henry softly. "If I ever caused you harm, I'd meet the sun myself."

"Wow, Henry. I've gotta tell you, you say things like that, and it makes the whole marrying you thing make sense," she replied, softly stroking his cheek. She loved doing that, watching his head tip back and his eyes close in pleasure. He opened them, and looked at her. "Perhaps I could treat you to a little-stress relief?"

"Hmm… what kind?" she responded playfully. He lead her over to the couch, and told her to lie down. He sat at the other end, and pulled off her boots and socks. He took her feet in his hands, and began to massage them gently. Vicki tipped her head back and moaned happily. He was always good at this. He smiled, and said, "Feeling better?"

"Oh, God, yes," she replied. "You know, you were always so good at this."

"I had to be," he replied, continuing his ministrations. "It was the only way you'd let me touch you to give you any pleasure."

"Hmm…" Vicki said, pausing for thought. He really had been patient with her during those times she was terrified to let go, terrified to love. Those days literally felt like a lifetime ago. With him she felt all the things a good relationship was supposed to provide- support, understanding, kindness, equality, and most importantly, respect. She mused to herself, and also to Henry, "I am truly lucky. How many people get to marry someone they respect and who respects them in turn?"

"Not many," he thought back. "Especially when I was growing up. My father didn't exactly choose wives or mistresses based on respect."

"And yet," she thought back to him, "you never make me feel ashamed for my desires. It is hard to find that kind of equality."

Henry's face took on a seductive, heavy-lidded quality. He spoke out loud, "Hmm… and why would I? After all, I certainly benefit from those desires. Are you experiencing… desire now, Victoria?"

"Somewhat," she replied softly, huskily. He grinned, and said, "Well, I must do something about that."

Vicki watched, entranced, as Henry lifted her foot to his mouth. He softly kissed the arch first, then the heel, then the top. Looking right into her eyes, he took her big toe into his mouth and sucked gently. Vicki felt electricity shoot straight up from her foot to her most intimate area. She had always thought of this act- what was it called, shrimping or something?- as somewhat gross, but in Henry's hands it was intensely erotic. He continued along her toes, then moved deftly to the other foot, where he repeated the actions. Vicki writhed unabashedly, moaning in pleasure. Henry stopped, only to ask, "Do you wish to move to our bedroom, love?"

"Yes, please," she replied, knowing that her arousal, her rapidly beating heart told the story far better than her words.

Henry picked her up and carried her into the room. He laid her on the bed, and began to remove his clothing. She stopped him, saying, "No, let me." She pulled his shirt over his head, and looking into his eyes, removed his belt. She then slowly unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, pulling them past his hips and he stepped out of them. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his red silk boxers and pulled them down as well, and as soon as he stepped out of them, took him by surprise by placing her mouth directly onto his throbbing member. Henry gasped, and wound his hands into her hair as she worked him over with the motions she knew so well. He roared his release, and she swallowed every last drop of him. He looked down at her, and whispered, "Now it's my turn."

Vicki, smiling, raised her arms above her head. Henry grinned his famous Cheshire grin before he pulled her shirt over her head. He undid her jeans, and pulled them down as well. However, he didn't remove her bra or panties. Instead, he placed her on the bed and began to shower kisses all along her throat, reveling once again in the sound, the smell, of her blood. As his eyes turned black and his fangs descended, he kissed his way down her body, and used his fangs' sharp points to tear her bra straps and rip it right off. She gasped and mewled in pleasure, and he worshipped her breasts with kisses and light nips. He then proceeded down to her stomach, and reached her navel, where the movements of his tongue made her both giggle and moan. He used his fangs again to remove her panties, and kissed and nibbled his way to her essence. She cried out, and arched her back as she grabbed his head to force him deeper within her. He licked her until he felt her walls begin to contract, and then in one dizzying movement, sank his manhood deep within her essence. He thrust against her, and she met him in movement. As they both approached their climax, he bit into the flesh just above her breast as she screamed in ecstasy. This pushed her over the precipice, and he followed her thereafter.

As they lay in the bed, kissing each other's bodies softly as they dealt with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, Henry turned to Vicki and said, "Well, are you feeling less stressed? Or am I still getting shot later?"

Vicki pretended to think, and then laughed. "Well, I'll give you a reprieve for now. Although if I could bottle what you just gave me, I could put Prozac out of business."

"Sorry, love, that is an exclusive property," he replied. "I have vowed that to only one."

"Hmm… lucky girl," she said.

"Yes, you are."

"Pompous bastard."

"Warrior Princess"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

With those words, the lovers, the betrothed slept, having slain one of the dragons that was dogging them on the way to the altar. The others would come soon enough. And they would find two formidable enemies.