It barely ever happened, but - she had to admit - when they did occur, it was when she was in bed with him: easy mornings. Mornings that almost felt like an extension of a wonderful dream she was woken from. Mornings that made everything seem like they truly were going to be okay. Sara has never been a morning person, always preferred the night for some reason. But, lately, she caught herself feeling rested and full of energy when her subconsciousness slowly drifted off, allowing her mind to gently stir up her senses.
Today, now, was one of those mornings. She felt the sun radiating it's warmth on their bed. Felt how a strand of her hair tickled her nose with every breath she took. Was conscious of her baby's legs pressed against her belly. And, slowly, she became aware of him watching her.
She couldn't stop the pleased smile that eagerly graced her face and she fluttered her eyes open briefly, just to confirm that he was in fact watching her. Her gaze crossed his radiating blue ones and she instantly recognized every emotion in them.
"Hmm'stop staring," she mumbled while her eyelids fell shut again.
"I'm not staring," Neal objected as he could no longer resist the urge to push back the strand of hair that covered half of her face, "I'm appreciating."
"Appreciate something else."
"You asked for it," he mumbled quickly and warningly before lifting up the sheets and ducking his head underneath it.
Sara's eyes flew open and she amusingly gasped at his suggestion. With one hand she pressed the sheets tighter to her body and the other was looking for Neal's head and guiding it back from underneath the sheets. She was not at all surprised to find that his cheeky grin was already matching the mischief in his eyes.
"That was not what I meant."
"What?" Neal exclaimed innocently, "I was just saying good morning to my baby boy, or –girl."
"Uhu," Sara laughed as she rolled her eyes. She had pushed off the sheets and was just about to get out of bed when suddenly his words had her stopping dead in her tracks.
"Marry me."
They were just words. Words that, when separate, had no other effect on her than usual. Words that, when put together, had the power to freeze her body and send her mind in a total frenzy.
This morning, Neal experienced, was just one of those mornings where everything seemed like they could truly be okay. Maybe looking for a house and moving in together wasn't going to be terribly hard. Maybe having a baby and raising a child wasn't going to be extremely terrifying. Maybe they could just go on and do it, and everything would work out.
But, as this calm feeling of faith hit him, he felt as if though something wasn't right yet. And in that moment, he knew. He knew he wanted her. He needed her. And today, that thought just wasn't so scary anymore. And every single time before this moment, when the thought of forever having to share his life had almost suffocated him, just seemed stupid and pointless. A waste of time.
He loved her hair, her eyes, her smile and her laugh. He loved how comfortable he felt with her, how things just seemed to fall into place. He loved how he knew her just as she knew him. He loved how there was a mutual understanding of one another, making words almost unnecessary. He also loved how there was so much still to learn and he loved how he couldn't wait to be taught.
So, when he opened his mouth and the words spontaneously rolled off his tongue, he wasn't too surprised to find that he was surprisingly calm and confident.
But maybe he should have considered the seconds of silence that followed. Those were pure agony. He'd take the months of back-and-forths over the three seconds of waiting for a reply, any time.
"Excuse me?" She managed to choke out, barely aware of how rude it must have sounded.
Neal could only smile as he watched Sara crawl back into bed and sit on her knees, facing him.
"Marry me." He repeated with the same calm and simple tone as before.
Sara frowned, "Why?" She inquired curiously.
At this, Neal sat up on his elbow, "What do you mean?"
"Why do you wanna get married? Is it cause of the baby? You know I told you I don't need all of that, we'll be-"
"Fine," he finished for her, "yes, I know. Sara, I'm not asking cause you're pregnant. I'm asking because I want to be with you, because I can't even imagine being with anybody else right now." He saw her lips part for the comment he knew she was going to make and before she could say anything, he quickly added: "And it's not because of the pregnancy."
Despite her efforts to stay calm, Sara heart stubbornly picked up it's pace, though she wasn't sure what caused it: the hope of Neal actually wanting her or the fear of Neal actually wanting her?
She wanted to ask him why – why her? – but she swallowed her words, somehow worried that if she opened her mouth, something else would come out. So instead she just sat there on his bed and in her mind she went through all the years she's known him. Memories are flashing through her mind like a movie. It's amazing how they ended up here; was it fate? Or bad luck?
Sara kicked herself mentally for thinking that. How could this be bad luck? Wasn't bad luck supposed to feel, well, bad? She felt amazing.
"Yes."
"Wha-?"
"Yes, Neal, yes I'll marry you!" Sara laughed.
Neal was going to ask for confirmation (Really? Are you sure?), but didn't want to jinx anything so instead he joined her laugh and pulled her closer to him for celebratory kiss.
Sara suddenly pulled back as realization hit: "Hoo my God, are we really doing this? Neal Caffrey, brazen art thief and Sara Ellis, wretched insurance investigator?"
"Hmm," Neal wrinkled his nose at those words, "We should probably come up with something better for the invitations." He pretended not to freak out at the mention of invitations. This just got really real.
"O-" Sara's voice got stuck on the vowel, "Invitations… " She spoke the word and let it linger in the air, wanting to taste it's aftertaste: it was surprising, but not nearly as bitter as she, for years, had thought it would be, "Wow, are we really doing this?" She asked Neal again.
"I will if you will."
"How are you so calm?"
"Give me another day, I feel a freak-out assembling inside my head."
Sara chuckled and nestled herself in his arms, laying her head on his chest. "Alright then, we're getting married."
"Why?"
Sara abruptly looked up, "Excuse me?"
Neal chuckled at her sudden response, "No, I mean, why'd you decide to say 'yes'?"
Sara took in his words with a slight nod and lay her head back down on his chest. Yes, why did she say 'yes' actually? She allowed herself a moment to think of the right answer.
"You know how, when growing up, every girl wants her boyfriend or husband to be like her father?"
"Sure," Neal replied hesitantly, unsure of where Sara was taking this.
"I never had that," Sara admitted, "In fact, I wanted the men I dated to be nothing like my father." Her voice became soft as the truth of her words hit her: Though this issue was always there – lying just beneath the surface – she had never allowed herself to get into it. It was too close to home. Too personal. Too hurtful. Even for and to herself. She figured if she would just ignore it, at one point, it would simply just not be there anymore.
Sara fell quiet and Neal stroked her hair back and planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"What was he like?" He didn't want to push, but Sara's confession raised a lot of questions. Neal inwardly prayed and hoped that none of the answers would have anything to do with abuse.
Under his arm, Neal felt Sara's torso rise as she drew a deep breath. She held it in for a few seconds and when she breathed out, the hot air tickled his skin. Sara lifted her finger and began drawing aimlessly on Neal's chest.
Maybe he was pushing.
"You don't have to answer that."
"No," Sara quickly replied, "I want to, I just- I'm looking for the right words. It's hard to describe him," she took another breath, "He was a very hard man," she said the word carefully and took another second before explaining herself, "He was there, physically, but he was never a dad. He wasn't emotionally available. Never took me and my sister out, never told us he loved us – that was just something she and I had to assume. I remember going to bed every night and wondering if my father loved me. I used to lie awake for hours discussing with myself until I finally had to conclude 'well he must love us if he's working to buy us food and clothes and pay for the roof over our heads'. It used to be a comforting conclusion when I was seven, but, as you grow older, so does that excuse. Oh, and we were not allowed to make mistakes!" Sara's voice grew a little higher as the memories came flooding back. It was amazing how much she remembers now that she allowed herself to. But even now, with all the memories coming back to life inside her mind, it felt surreal. Like she was talking about someone else, describing someone else's childhood. She had distanced herself so much from those memories, locked them up and put them away, that she was only now hit by the painful reality that those memories were in fact hers. That the man she was describing was in fact her own father. It hurt.
Sara swallowed hard before continuing: "I grew up walking on eggshells because every little mistake would tick him off and make him moody for the rest off the day. It was almost like growing up with two personalities; whenever he was away, we could be ourselves; play outside, get dirty, accidentally break a plate or spill water, but as soon as he came home we fell quiet and the atmosphere inside the house died. I vowed to myself that if I ever had children, I would not let them grow up in a situation like that. I want my daughter to have a father who will tell her he loves her and who will help her do her homework. A father who will laugh at her mistakes and try to help and fix them, instead of making her feel like an idiot for making them." Sara took another moment, truly surprised at how much was pouring out now. And also surprised at how Neal was taking it; except for the occasional rise and fall of his chest, he was lying very still, not saying a word and just listening while stroking her hair comfortingly.
"Neal, I'm saying 'yes' because, whether we stay together for the rest of our lives, or we won't even make it a week, I believe that, not only are you that kind of father; you're that kind of man. And that alone is plenty of reason for me to want to be with you." Sara sighed contently at her final words. She had never let anyone get this close. Hell, she had never even let herself dig this deep. But for some reason it felt right to share this, if not for the benefit of their relationship, then at least for herself.
Neal was still quiet and she knew he was letting her have a moment. A pleased half smile crept over her face and she lightly kissed his chest as a way of thank you.
"So," Neal finally said, "A daughter, huh?"
Sara smiled at his icebreaker, "Well, one of them is bound to be a girl, don't you think?"
Neal raised his eyebrows in surprise and pulled his head back to meet Sara's amused gaze, "One of them?" He asked.
Sara's eyes grew big with amusement and it matched the form of her lips as she raised her eyebrows almost challengingly at him.
"Well, how many are we talking about?" Neal couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. The dream that once seemed so far away, had now come dangerously close. And he didn't mind. "Just asking so I'll know how much of my soul I'll need to sell in order to support all of them."
Sara casually let out a breath as she pretended to shrug indifferently, "Oh, I was thinking about four or five."
"Fiv-?" Neal almost choked on the word, "Please tell me that's the hormones talking?"
Sara chuckled. "It is," she reassured him, "My body can't handle five pregnancies. I'm not even sure it can handle one," she amended and looked down on her growing belly.
"Well," Neal raised his shoulder casually, "I'm sure it can handle maybe one more pregnancy. Maybe even two more?"
"Yeah?" Sara looked up at him, her smile even brighter.
"Yeah, 'think so."
Sara pulled herself up a little on her elbow and met Neal halfway for a kiss. It wasn't a kiss burning with desire; it was a kiss of satisfaction and hopeful dreams – it wasn't an entirely new kiss to them, but it was on an entire new level. This time, they allowed themselves to believe that everything would be okay.
Neal finally broke the kiss and waited for Sara to open her eyes.
"Thank you."
"For what?" Sara asked lightly.
"Everything you just shared… I-," he paused to find the right words, "I'm sorry you had to go through that and I'm sorry I can't take the pain away," Sara looked down; hearing from Neal that her memories caused pain, forced her to admit they do – despite her effort to believe that she had gotten so over it. Neal lifted her chin up and forced her to meet his smiling blues, "Hey, but I can relief one worry: Our kid will be loved. There is nothing in this world she could do that would make me stop loving her. Or help her with her homework," he added with a smile, "or laugh at her mistakes and try to help and fix them."
Sara allowed a smirk before finding his lips again.
"So," Sara broke the kiss, "A daughter, huh?"
"Well, one of them is bound to be a girl, don't you think?"
Thank you all so much for your reviews and your patience with me!
merbear09: I'm hoping this chapter sort of answered your question, but if it hasn't: yes, there will be a wedding. ;)
Hope you enjoyed and please review.
Soph
