*Author's note: What?! Tangerine's alive?! Yup, I am very much alive. So sorry for not updating the other stories. There's been some problems with my computer. But, oh well, I won't go into detail about it right now. Thing is, I've decided to do a series of one-shots(all centering around the married life) of my favorite pairings. Or just pairings I ship. Either or both. Again, so sorry for not updating. I'll post new chapters as soon as I can! Till then!*

It was a cool morning. The sun shown through the open window, which allowed the crisp winter breeze to flow into the bedroom. It felt refreshing, to say the least. In the tangled mass of blankets on the bed in the center of the room there lay a couple.

The woman, a lady around the age of thirty, was nestled against her husband, sighing in content.

Her spouse, a man of about forty, had his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Both were the world to each other.

Philip Lombard slowly opened his eyes, letting them fall immediately on the beauty that lay beside him. She was the first thing he would always want to see in the morning. She could make him smile, no matter what. And even after all these years, she still made his heart flutter.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a soft snore escaped her lips. He chuckled softly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She stirred at the touch, slowly opening her eyes. She smiled up at him once she was fully awake.

"Good morning, love." He whispered into her ear as he pulled her closer. His wife, Vera, tucked her head under his chin.

"Good morning."

Confessions of love had come easy for them after a period of hate and distrust. They had all the right to, given their situation.

What happened on Indian Island would-could-not be forgotten, but that only made their bond grow stronger. They had survived the torment and fear, escaping just before any more lives were lost. Just when they had made it back to the city, planning to take their own paths, forget everything that had happened, forget each other, they began to have second thoughts.

During the weekend they were there, on Indian Island, something had changed in them both. Philip Lombard, being the charismatic and confident man he was, only looked Vera Claythorne's way because of her appearance. She was quite a sight, in his eyes, but there was nothing behind the occasional glances.

Vera Claythorne, on the other hand, did not bother. She was not in the mood for romantic relationships, nor did she have the heart to give anyone. After what happened with Hugo, she preferred not to get involved romantically. She acknowledged Lombard as being a handsome man, but thought nothing more of it.

But as their fellow residents were beginning to get killed off, they began to unwillingly develop something more towards each other than hatred. They trusted each other. They became acquaitances, then friends, but never calling each other as such.

It was Lombard who began to feel something more towards the younger woman. There was something about her, something no other woman he had met posessed. And when he fell for her, he fell hard.

He tried not to show it, succeeding, of course. But for some unknown reason, he had also wanted to let her know. He had wanted to let her know she was more than a murder suspect in his eyes. She was the one person he wanted to show his affections to. He had wanted to let her know he was not U. N. Owen, that he would not hurt her. That he loved her...

Vera pulled back from her husband's chest, bringing him back to reality from his reminiscing. Her eyes were filled with concern. He chuckled at how adorable she looked.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a serious tone. He frowned, then smiled again, surprised at how much she knew about him.

"You know me so well, love." He said, planting a kiss on her forehead. There was no need to hide the fact that the memory bothered him. It hurt her too. Afterall, it was her that suffered the most.

Vera sighed, knowing exactly what was bothering him. She placed her head back on his broad chest.

"Sometimes," She began, skimming a kiss on his bare chest, "Sometimes, I wonder if we could have saved them..."

Philip Lombard's brows furrowed, and he pulled back to look at her. He said, "But, my dear girl, how could we have possibly done that?"

Vera paused, unsure of how to respond, "I don't know. I just...I...I feel terrible! They were killed, Philip! They were killed and there was nothing we could do about it and...and we were next..."

Philip Lombard sighed, rubbing comforting circles into his wife's back, "I know, love, I know..."

They lay there, entwined. Even after the horrifying events on Indian Island, they grew to love each other.

Philip chuckled as the memory of their first date came to his mind. Vera looked up at him, a smile tugging at her lips, knowingly.

"Don't." She warned. This happened every morning. She would often times catch him reminiscing about their past-every morning-and he laughed every time.

"But darling, you must admit, those noodles decorated your hair beautifully!" He let loose a laugh, leaning his head back.

Vera punched him lightly in the shoulder, "Oh, stop it! It was your fault we were banned from my favorite resturaunt!"

"Pfft. As if their food was that good."

"You didn't even eat it! You were too busy throwing it at me to bother."

"There was a bug flying all over the place! I did not want it to irritate such a lovely lady as yourself, and so, I set out to destory it."

"By throwing noodles around the resturaunt?"

"Of course."

Vera laughed. She would never tire of him. Or of his silly antics. Or of the two of them just being together. She loved him.

True, it took her the longest time to accept him in her life. She was afraid, scared. She had thought he was U. N. Owen, that he was going to murder her brutally.

But as the two of them turned to look at each other after they had found Armstrong's lifeless body, she somehow knew it wasn't him. There was something in his eyes, a pain, that told her he was as afraid as she was.

Yet, she had it all planned out. She was not going to die, and even if a gut feeling warned her not to, she had reached into Lombard's pocket and snatched his revolver.

She had the intention of pulling the trigger, just sending a bullet straight into his heart, but...

He spoke to her with a gentle tone, trying desperately to convince her. She could feel herself breaking, bit by bit.

She had steadily held the gun, ready to kill him if she had to. But she just could not, and as Lombard had taken a step towards her, she faltered, and he embraced her.

The hug was something unexpected, but completely welcomed; something she was in desperate need of. The way he had held her, so protectively, so lovingly-it made her forget the situation they were in...

And then their rescue had arrived...

"Philip?" Vera brought herself back to the present, wanting to forget about the past. She leaned away from her husband.

Philip Lombard opened his eyes, turning to look at his wife, concern in his eyes, "What is it?"

"Do you love me?"

Philip Lombard groaned, and pulled Vera closer. One of his hands twirled a strand of her hair while the other cupped her cheek. He leaned closer so that their noses touched.

"Darling, you know I do. I do not see why we must go through this every morning."

"It's just that..." She trailed off.

"You are insecure, afraid still. I understand. You know I feel that way sometimes too. But think positively, my girl. We are here now, safe and sound. Alive." He kissed her forehead, adding with a smile, "Together."

Vera smiled, her self-doubt slowly disappearing into the back of her mind again.

That's why she love Lombard, he was understanding, loving. He was kind to her, yet spoke in a firm voice when he needed to.

He was her stability, and if she ever lost him...

She snuggled closer into him, taking in his warmth. She felt his chuckle rumble in his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

Everything was perfect. Her life was better than she knew it could have ever been with Hugo. Had she stayed with Hugo...She would admittingly not be this blissful. This content with life and being alive. Hugo would not have forgiven her; Lombard did.

Although he may have not met Hugo or Cyril, he forgave her. He forgave her because he knew she needed to be forgiven. She needed someone to be there for her when the truth was exposed. He accepted her.

And she did the same for him. She forgave him for his crime. And he was grateful also, his concious more at ease.

Vera felt him shift and she opened her eyes. Her husband held a mischievous smirk on his face, and she knew exactly what it meant. She giggled as he rolled her over.

"I know what your thinking," She whispered as he leaned in to kiss her. She gave in, kissing back passionately. They were cherishing the moment, before a shrill cry made them both jump.

Philip was the first one to leap from the bed, grabbing his robe before quickly running to where the noise came from.

"Stay here." He warned his wife.

Vera stayed behind, a faint sense of fear and paranoia settling in the pit of her stomach. When her husband did not return to their bedroom, she began to panic.

She quickly and quietly dressed herself, tip-toeing to where the cry was heard. She readied herself for battle, clenching a hand into a fist. She slowly turned a corner...

Vera sighed in relief once she saw Philip was safe, with their daughter craddled in his arms.

He turned to look at her, a gentle smile spread across his face.

"You scared me." She said, walking up to him and embracing him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Did I now? I believe it was little Emma that frightened us." Vera smiled, hugging him tighter.

She had been afraid of nothing. They were safe here in their home. Together, the three of them. She knew she was going to be alright with Philip Lombard in her life.

Vera moved from behind her husband to look at her daughter.

She had been afraid of having a child. She was afraid they would die in her arms, that she wouldn't make a good mother. Philip had assured her she would be an excellent mother, but she could not shake the fear. Not until their daughter Emma was born. Once she was given the small baby to craddle in her arms, Vera knew it was worth it.

"Well, Mrs. Lombard, what do you think?" Vera looked up at her husband.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"What do you think of our little family?" He asked again.

She smiled, planting a kiss to her daughter's forehead and one to her husband's chin. She whispered, "I think it's wonderful."

Their daughter giggled, making her parents grin in content. Her hazel eyes shined in the morning light.

"Scared us, you did, little one." Vera cooed, playing with the girl's foot, making her laugh harder.

"She possibly only had a bad dream." Philip said, wrapping an arm around his wife to pull her closer.

"Perhaps." Vera agreed.

This was more than they could have ever wanted. Their life was complete. They had each other, they had their daughter.

"Dada." The baby cooed, her short arms reaching out to grab her father's chin.

Philip's calm face was transformed by a broad grin. He felt his heart fill with warmth at the sound of his daughter's baby voice speak her first word. The joyful tears began to well up in his eyes.

"Philip, did you hear that?!" Vera asked excitingly, gripping his arm. She also began to tear up.

"She said 'dada'!" She finally cried, taking her daughter in her arms, for her husband was too shocked. As Vera praised their daughter, Philip Lombard took a seat beside the crib.

"She said 'dada'." He muttered mostly to himself. Then, louder, "She said 'dada'!" He suddenly jumped up, and wrapped his arms around both his wife and his daughter.

"She said her first word!" He shouted, laughing and crying at the same time. Vera laughed along with him, letting her tears fly away as he spun them around. Little Emma giggled, as if she knew why her parents were so happy.

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea what this means?" Philip asked his little daughter, as if she would understand. She only yawned and closed her droopy eyes.

Vera laughed softly as she lay their infant back down in her crib. She planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, a final reassurance that they were there for her.

She stepped back, smiling as her child clenched her blanket in her sleep.

"She'll talk just like you." She heard her husband say. She turned around.

"What do you mean?" She asked. Philip took her hands in his own, kissing them lovingly.

"She has that tiny hint of defiance in her voice. Just like you. Even now, at such an early age." He chuckled.

"I suppose so. But I believe she will certainly be a daddy's girl." Vera countered.

"Perhaps." Was all Philip could say.

They were oh so happy together. Just the three of them. Finally away from Indian Island. Finally forgetting their horrible past.

Finally free.