July 1964

Dean had been watching Colette from across the bar. Debriefing seemed to be taking longer than usual, even the excitement of Monte Carlo and the Grand Prix wasn't enough to distract him for long. Once he noticed the other girls breaking off to head to the casino or flirt with racecar drivers, he made his way over to her table. He came up behind her put a hand on her shoulder then ran his hand across the back of her neck before he sat down in the chair next to her.

She shuddered a little from his touch and gave him a slow smile. "And what did you think of the cars this year, Captain Lowrey?"

He leaned in close so only she could hear him. "Not nearly as exciting as my wife."

"Ah, there is nothing quite like being compared to a fine automobile."

He winked at her. "Dance with me?"

She gave a quick look around the bar. Most of the crew had left, but still…

"Come on," he reached over and grabbed her hand off the table. "They all know we're together anyway."

She laughed and let him lead her to the music. "I suppose you're right. And I never regret dancing with you."

He lifted his eyebrows and grinned at her as if to say "Oh, yeah?" then pulled her in close. "Remember when I asked you to marry me?"

"Oui," she sighed, melting into him, and let her mind wander back a few months…

…

They had spent the day looking for her brother just outside Paris, and after weeks of what seemed like one dead end leading to another, she finally had a promising lead. Colette had been so excited, but there was nothing she could follow up on immediately so they had returned to Paris for the night. Dean suggested they wander the streets for a while and she agreed, her emotions bubbling too much to allow for sleep anyway.

They walked along the streets, hand-in-hand, talking and teasing as they always did. Somehow they'd wandered to the same spot where they'd gotten lost last June. Where they'd had their first dance.

"Do you remember this place?" Dean asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Of course."

"Dance with me?" She nodded and he gathered her in his arms and they swayed to the music playing from somewhere in the distance. He said a silent thank you to Paris for providing the music for them. His heart started to pound. Now or never.

"We're not lost anymore, are we?" he asked, his voice full of meaning.

She smiled and shook her head. "No, we are not lost."

The evening lights were twinkling around them; the sounds and smells of Paris surrounded them. It was cool but not cold; spring was on its way. It was a beautiful March night. They were both clear-headed, and while they'd been on a mission to find her brother, they'd already found each other. It was the perfect time.

Dean slowed their dance and leaned back so he could look into her eyes.

"Colette… je t'aime," she smiled at this. He'd heard it so much from her that he pronounced it perfectly, and it made her heart melt for him to say I love you in French. "I do," he said earnestly, bringing her hands down from his shoulders so he could hold them in his. He absentmindedly ran his thumbs over her skin as he spoke. "I love walking into a room and seeing you there, I love the sound of your laughter and the way your eyes light up when you smile, I love that I can talk to you about anything." Her hands were shaking as he held them tight, and he wondered for a moment if his own hands were the ones shaking. He took a fortifying breath. "Colette…" he lowered himself down to his knee.

She was staring at him, her eyes wide with wonder. "What are you doing?"

"Just a minute," he laughed up at her. "Colette… will you marry me?"

She could feel her heart thudding against her chest, and the city lights were blurring for some reason. The people in the streets of Paris had stopped around them to hear her answer but she was suddenly speechless. So she nodded her head enthusiastically, felt tears drop down her face, and pulled him up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until she could form the words. "Oui. Yes. Yes, of course I will."

Dean hugged her tight, then lifted her up and spun her around – a classic romantic move for the streets of the City of Love and Lights. "I'm going to make you as happy as you make me," he vowed as he set her down.

"You already do. Je t'aime, I love you," she whispered against his cheek.

The people of Paris, always loving a bit of romance, called out congratulations in French and offered them applause. A man selling roses stopped to throw a few in their direction, and someone else walked away singing a love song.

Dean dug in his jacket for a second and produced a gold ring with a center diamond surrounded by two slim baguette-shaped diamonds on either side. He slipped it on her finger. She sighed as she held it up to the light to watch it sparkle.

"It's beautiful, Dean. Merci."

"You're beautiful," he told her, running his thumb along the fingers of the hand she was admiring. "Maybe you can keep it hidden in your girdle when you're working."

He said it with a straight face but Colette's laughter rang out in the night, and she took his arm as they continued wandering the streets.

"Why, Captain, are you suggesting…"

"A secret marriage," he finished for her. "So we can keep flying together."

"One long honeymoon," she said, thoughtfully, considering the possibilities.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking into her eyes. "But only if you want to. If you want to stop flying…"

"What would you do on all those layovers without me?"

"Be a lonely, sad man, missing his wife," he told her honestly.

"I can't let that happen," she said with a pouty, sympathetic shake of her head. Then she added, "I would miss you, too, mon amour."

"And when we're ready for children –"

"Our daughter, Catherine," she interrupted, smiling and remembering the name he'd decided on for their daughter after their first date.

He face crinkled up with a smile that bespoke his happiness. "Yeah, Catherine. Who will look exactly like you. We'll figure something out when she comes along."

"I imagine she'll be a well-traveled young lady."

"I imagine so," he agreed.

"It sounds like you've been planning this for a while, Captain," she said, amazed to her core by his thoughtfulness and his love, and the romance of the entire situation.

"You have no idea," he told her. "Remember when you asked to fly the plane?"

She gave him a skeptical look, and let out a quick laugh. "Mon dieu. You really were that fond of me…" He looked confused, but his confusion quickly evaporated when she said, "Dean, we can keep it from Pan Am, but we'll have to tell your parents."

She laughed at his exaggerated groan and hugged his arm tight. "I love you," she said, so filled with happiness she thought she might burst.

…

"And how are you finding your honeymoon so far?" she asked after letting the memories wash over her.

"It's better than I imagined, and this is just the beginning." They moved into a somewhat shadowy area around the corner from the jukebox "I wonder if anyone will be scandalized if I kiss you right here? We are on our honeymoon, after all."

"Playing with fire, Captain?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, then," she said with a shrug and kissed him. A sultry, hot kiss, with swirling tongues and biting lips that went on and on, a befitting kiss for Monte Carlo.

"We're leaving," he said as they broke apart.

"So soon?" she feigned shock. "Don't you want to stay and talk Formula One? I think I saw Sanjeev at the bar…" She trailed off as he pulled her out the side door and in the direction of their hotel.

"Sanjeev can wait until the flight home," he told her. "I have a honeymoon to continue."

She laughed as they snuck away from the bar, their friends, and the world in general.