A/N: This started out as fluff when I wrote the first few lines (over a year ago), and ended up as... something else. There's a line in London Calling (the finale) where Jude says to Sadie "He's ready to settle down, Sade. And he has no more secrets. And he loves me." This comes partly from that, and partly from the realization that Jude's doubts would not have appeared suddenly because of one fight.

This takes place the night after Tommy proposes, before all the other stuff.


As they reach the door to the rehearsal space, Tommy picks her up, suddenly sweeping her feet out from under her, and Jude yelps. "Tommy what the hell are you doing?!" she laughs.

"Isn't it obvious? I am carrying you over the…" He frowns. "You know, the… what's the word?"

"The threshold?" She looks at him like he's insane, because maybe he is. (Maybe he's just delirious with happiness, and he's definitely a little tipsy.) She's smiling, though, and there's laughter in her voice. "You realize we're not actually married. Besides, that's supposed to be the threshold to the first place that's ours together, isn't it?"

"Not married yet," he says, not even trying to hide his big, dopey grin.

Her heart speeds up as he says it, and a frisson of something that might be fear goes through her. She chalks it up to excitement.

"And as far as a place that's ours," Tommy is saying as he steps through the doorway, "isn't that kind of what this is?" He drops her onto the bed with a kiss and goes to close the door.

At his words, Jude feels a rush of affection for this space. So many firsts and lasts and perfect moments have happened here, and not just for her, but for all her friends. This place has been her home, often even more so than her actual house, for years now. But she's not sure she agrees with Tommy's assessment that it's theirs. It's hers, not his. It's been hers throughout the roller coaster of their relationship, been here for her when he wasn't. But he's still grinning at her as he walks over, so excited and happy, and the semantics don't matter, so she just says, "I can't believe I'm going to have to say goodbye to this place." She sighs, a little sadly. "I guess there's a lot I'm going to have to say goodbye to."

He sits down next to her, puts a hand on her knee. "Don't think of it as saying goodbye, Jude, think of it as… moving forward." He brushes a lock of hair behind her ear with a tender look that makes her insides turn molten. "And besides," he continues, "you don't have to say goodbye to everything, remember?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Sure, just my friends, my sister, the house I grew up in, the city I've lived in my entire life, and, oh yeah, the freaking continent."

"Hey." He kisses her softly. "At least you never have to say goodbye to me."

"I know." She smiles. "And you're right. I am excited to move forward with my career. It's the next step. The big show, like you said. It's like, it's scary, but it's also what I've wanted my entire life."

"I get it, girl, I've been there." He laughs sardonically. "Not that you should really be taking your cues from my career."

Her smile widens. "You know how I've always aspired to be Lil' Tommy Q," she teases. It occurs to her as she says it that he has done this before. Not just the superstar part, but the marriage part. She tries to put that thought out of her mind.

"Shut it, Instant Star!" He's laughing.

"You know what?" She looks mischievously up at him and reaches out to slip his jacket off his shoulders. "You talk too much."

Tommy snorts at the irony of that statement, but he pulls the jacket off and tosses it aside as she unbuttons her own jacket and removes it. He trails his fingertips across the skin of her collarbone and whispers, "Beautiful," before threading his fingers through her hair and kissing her. He pushes her back into the pillows and murmurs, "I love you," into the skin of her neck.

"Did you love Portia?" Jude asks suddenly, the champagne having apparently loosened her tongue to the point where she no longer thinks before she speaks.

She says it casually, but he pulls back, looking hurt. "How can you ask me that? Jude, it's not the same. You and me, we're different."

"Oh, Tommy, I didn't mean it like that," Jude insists quickly. "Don't worry about it." She strokes the side of his face with the backs of her fingers, but the hurt in his eyes doesn't disappear.

"Then how the hell did you mean it?" He pulls away fully this time, sitting up, removing his arms from around her. "How can you ask me that?" he asks again.

Jude laughs, trying desperately to lighten the mood again. "Because I'm a little drunk, the thought popped into my head, and I have no filter. Please don't worry about it, babe, I didn't mean anything by it."

"You can't say something like that and expect me to ignore it."

"Tommy…" she sighs.

"The answer is no," he says, adamantly. "No, I did not love Portia."

She raises her eyebrows. "You married her. Why would you do that if you didn't love her?"

"Jude!" he protests, eyes wide. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's okay if you loved her," she says gently, putting a hand on his face. He looks so upset, and she wishes she never said anything. "There's nothing wrong with it. It's in the past, I understand."

"I…" He squeezes his eyes shut in frustration, then opens them again. "I loved her, in a way, but it was different. I was… We were…"

Jude's eyebrows shoot up again and she pulls her hand back. "You were what? 18? You were too young to get married and mean it?"

"Hey! Don't turn this around on me."

"I'm not trying to, but I've heard this before. You were 18, you were a worldwide superstar, you proposed on a whim, and those are all the reasons you couldn't make marriage work the first time." Her eyes are wide, full of real fear and doubt now. "In case you haven't noticed, all of those things are true for me too."

"When I said we were different, I meant it," he says fiercely. "It's not because I was 18, or because I was famous, it's because I was an idiot. I married Portia because at the time I felt like she was the only real thing in my life. You are not like me, Jude. I didn't have a family. I had no friends from before. I didn't believe there was anyone who would love me for me and not for the fame or the money." His voice cracks and he clears his throat. "But Portia… she had her own money, and she saw a side of me that the fans didn't. I thought that was as good as I was going to get. I thought that was love."

"Oh, Tommy…"

"You are not me," he insists. "And you are not Portia. How can I make you understand how completely different this time is for me?" He looks at her desperately. "You… have all of me."

"All of you?" she whispers, eyes wide. Because hasn't that always been the biggest obstacle in their relationship? Aside from the age difference, the problem has always been that she feels as though there's a part of him he's keeping from her.

"You know me. You get me, and that's always been true, but you also…" He sighs. "I know I haven't always been open about my past, but you know it all now, Jude. I have no more secrets." He actually looks a little surprised, like he's realizing this for the first time. "You know, Jamie asked me today what was going to be different about this time. That's what's different. No more secrets, no more walls, no more running."

She doesn't realize she's crying until he reaches out to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"Hey," he says softly. "I understand why you'd doubt me. But this was not a whim. I want this, and I'm sure of it. So I'm going to ask again, okay?" He gets off the bed, gets down on one knee, grabs her left hand. "Jude Harrison, you have always had my heart, but now you have so much more than that. I am more than ready to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you marry me?"

He's ready. She thinks to herself. You've been waiting for this moment for three years. Something else is nagging at her, some doubt in the back of her mind, but she pushes it away, and it's worth it for the look of joy on his face when she laughs and says, "Of course I'll marry you."

He kisses her and she doesn't think of how she's only 18. She doesn't think that maybe she doesn't want or need an anchor in her new life in London. His hands on her skin push away the thought that maybe moving forward should mean letting go of the things she wanted when she was 16.

She loves him, and she's sure of that, has never been so sure of anything in her life.

So there is nowhere else she'd rather be than here, in his arms. The rest of her life– their life together– starts now.

This is what she wants.

…Isn't it?