The ceremony is lovely. Everywhere there are calla lilies and red ribbons, even FDR's tie is bright red. You and Lizzie stand on the bride's side of the aisle, Tuck and Sean on the groom's opposite you, the minister and FDR in the middle. Just before the doors open to let Lauren in, you see Tuck giving FDR final words of encouragement. Then the bride appears, and as FDR turns around you think you can see a tear roll down his cheek as he smiles at Lauren, approaching in her Vera Wang.

You always cry at weddings, you can't help it, and this time is no exception. Tapping your face with a handkerchief as Lauren and FDR give each other their vows, you notice Tuck looking at you. There is a smile on his lips and a tenderness in his eyes that you've only seen there once before; after you had gone shopping for a wedding present for the bride and groom between the two of you now: when he told you he was falling in love with you. A warm, tingly feeling forms in your chest, spreading to your shoulders, arms, all the way to your fingertips and down to your toes. Looking into Tuck's eyes you realize why – you are in love with the British man standing opposite you.

"May I have the rings, please?" you hear the minister say, and waking from your thoughts you step forwards to place the ring in his hand while Tuck does the same. As Tuck steps back in his place he winks at you, and you smile. Stepping back into your place next to Lizzie you notice her looking back and forth between you and Tuck. You apparently can't keep a secret from anyone anymore.

"You are now pronounced husband and wife," the minister states, continuing, "you may kiss."

"Finally," FDR huffs, and dipping Lauren he plants a big one on her lips. Everybody cheers and you laugh, you couldn't be happier for them. The newlyweds lock arms and make their way down the aisle towards the door, and Tuck offers you his arm smiling.

"Shall we?" he asks, and you lock arms with him.

"We shall," you reply. As you walk down the aisle in Lauren and FDR's footsteps, you notice Melissa taking a picture of the two of you, and FDR's grandmother smiling as you pass her.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Everyone, could I have your attention, please?" you ask into the microphone. It is time for you maid of honor speech. You are seated at a long table next to FDR with Lauren's father on your other side. In front of you there is the dance floor, around which the round tables for guests are scattered. Every table dons a centerpiece of calla lilies and red roses, surrounded by candles. The dinner has been served and everyone is in a good mood, helped by the fact that the champagne has flown freely the whole night.

"As some of you know, Lauren and I have known each other since we were five years old. And in those, well, I won't say how many years, but years nonetheless, I have come to know her rather well. I could tell you many stories about her. For example, I know what kind of man she wanted to marry when she was eight years old," you state, pointedly looking at Lauren, who is hiding her smile with her hands.

"It was a rainy day. After school we were alone at her house, and we got bored because we couldn't go outside. Lauren then had an idea. She went into her mother's closet, took out her wedding dress and we put it on her. Sorry Margaret, we didn't dare tell you sooner," you say to Lauren's mother sitting next to Tuck near the other end of the table, who looks shocked at first but soon joins in to the laughing audience. "She stood in front of the mirror – she actually stood on a chair so she'd look all grown up – and said "I will not get married until I find a prince"," you recall, seeing smiles in the audience.

"Then later at sixteen, with her taste more refined, she knew exactly what kind of man she wanted to marry and whose children she wanted to have. Now I won't tell you the specifics, but she wanted to marry a short, skinny and blonde punk rocker, going by the name of Billie Joe Armstrong," you say, eliciting laughter in the audience.

"Now FDR, I see you are not blonde, short or skinny, not even a punk rocker, and you're certainly not Billie Joe Armstrong," you state smiling, turning your attention to FDR, who is pretending to be heartbroken.

"So you must be a prince to our dear Lauren, because she chose to marry you," you smile, and FDR plants a kiss on Lauren's temple. You grab your champagne flute from the table and turn back to the audience.

"So if you would all join me in a toast..." you trail off, raising your glass. "To Lauren and her prince!"

The crowd joins in, and FDR stands up to hug you and Lauren holds out her hand to squeeze yours. As the applause die down, FDR grabs the microphone.

"And now we get to hear from the best man," he states, and hands the microphone over to Tuck, sitting on the other side of Lauren. Tuck, standing up, clears his throat.

"As many of you know, FDR has a... how should I put it... colourful past when it comes to women," eliciting a few whistles from the audience.

"I hope you're going somewhere with this," a mortified FDR chimes in. Tuck chuckles.

"I am, hold on, mate. Wait, what was your record again? Or do you not want to share with the group?" Tuck asks, eliciting a few whistles from the audience and a shocked expression from Lauren. "I kid, I kid… Anyway, when he first met Lauren at the video store, where he usually got lucky every single time, he was really taken aback when she didn't just fall at his feet," Tuck says, making the audience laugh and FDR hide his face.

"This is what I think enabled you to tie him down, Lauren. You are no ordinary bird. You don't take his crap, instead you call him on it, and with you I think he is a better man than he was before he met you," Tuck states, squeezing Lauren's shoulder.

"And I cannot think of a better partner for my best friend to share the rest of his life with. Please raise your glasses for the newlyweds," Tuck finishes, and toasts the happy couple.

Once the speeches are done, Tuck walks over to you. He stops behind your chair, leaning on his elbows on your chair's back support.

"You know we have one more task as maid of honor and best man," he says to you, as you lean back and sip at your champagne.

"Yeah? What's that now?" you ask, turning to look at him. He is smirking.

"Preparing the bridal suite," he replies, and you feel the corners of your mouth turning up.

"Let's do it," you state, getting up from your chair. Tuck places a hand at the small of your back, guiding you towards the reception where he's left all the necessities. The receptionist hands everything over and gives you the key card.

"It's the top floor," she instructs. Thanking her you make your way to the elevator. As you step in you are both smirking at each other.

"You do realize we're missing the cake," you smile as the doors close, eyeing the champagne and roses sticking out of the basket Tuck is carrying.

"Let's hope they save us some," he replies, turning so he's leaning on the wall opposite you. His eyes feel like they are burning a hole right through you.

"You're doing it again," you say, turning your head away from him, not able to pry the smile off your face.

He smirks, stepping closer. "You know how difficult it was for me to stand opposite you in front of 150 guests, a minister and God himself and not just walk over and kiss you?" he murmurs, his eyes on yours, his face inches from yours, just as the elevator doors slide open.

"Saved by the bell," he chuckles, and you can't help but smile with him.

You let the two of you into the bridal suite, and you are slightly taken aback by how gorgeous it is. Everything is cream colored and the suite is the biggest hotel room you have ever seen. The windows look over the city, and the bed is huge.

"Okay, you do the bedroom, I'll scatter some rose petals everywhere and then write something dirty on the bathroom mirror," you instruct Tuck, and he replies with a smile before stepping away into the direction of the bedroom.

You decorate the living area and bathroom with red rose petals and start looking for a lipstick to write on the mirror with. Finding one you are forced to bend over the sink a little to reach the mirror, when you see Tuck in the reflection, looking at you.

"You all done?" you ask, your hand stopping before the lipstick hits the mirror. He doesn't say anything, but walks over to you as you turn around to face him. His eyes are heavy as he stares down at you. You place the lipstick on the counter next to the sink, raising your hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"Tuck?" you ask.

He has his hands in his pockets, his eyes darker than you remembered.

"You look really lovely," he finally speaks. He lifts his both hands to cup your face looking deep into your eyes, before his gaze goes to your lips as you part them slightly. He leans in, his lips soft on yours as you close your eyes and your hands go to his waist. He softly licks your lips and you open your mouth more to grant him entrance, intertwining your tongue with his. His hands move from the sides of your face to your waist, pulling you into him while yours grab onto his shirt at his sides, before moving to discard his jacket. He cups the backs of your thighs and props you up on the sink in front of him, hiking your dress up your thighs in the process.

"Here?" you breathe onto his lips between kisses.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, his breathing uneven, looking deep into your eyes.

"Don't you dare," you say, claiming his lips with yours again.

He pushes your legs open to stand between them, his mouth leaving yours to attend to your neck, one hand going into your hair. As his name escapes your lips he cups your bottom with his other hand to pull you nearer him and you can feel his erection press against your core, a growl rumbling in his chest.

His finger trails the band of your underwear as his mouth is busy working on your neck, leaving little bites and kisses all over.

"Take them off," you breathe, raising your hips off the sink to help him and he slides them off without his mouth leaving your neck, your shoes falling in the process. As soon as you hear the shoes hit the bathroom floor you can feel his fingers travelling up and down your slit, the sensation making your breathing hitch as you arch your back.

"God you're wet," he murmurs, his mouth meeting yours as his finger finds your hard little pearl, rubbing it in a circular motion. Your hands grasp the back of his neck as his mouth on yours swallows every moan you make, heat starting to pool in your lower stomach. You feel him replace his index finger with his thumb, continuing with a little more pressure as he puts one finger inside of you, pumping in and out. He leans back slightly, looking at you intently as your head falls back and hits the mirror, his name forming on your lips again as he inserts another finger.

Your hands move down his chest to work on his belt, your fingers having trouble as his work their magic on you. Finally succeeding you push his pants down all together, taking his length into your hand, making him gasp in turn. His forehead meets yours as he grunts with every move you make, starting to push into your palm.

"I think we've waited long enough," he mutters. He pulls his hand away and grabs the backs of your knees to pull you to the edge of the sink. Your hand still on his erection you guide him into your entrance and looking into your eyes he moves into you, slowly, making your mouth fall open as he surprisingly and agonizingly patiently fills you. He starts at a slow pace, his hands on your neck and one on your hip, pushing you into him. Your bodies are so close to one another you think you can feel his pulse between two of you.

"Oh Tuck," you breathe into his ear as his teeth nip at your neck. His other hand snakes between the two of you, his finger again finding that special spot and you look down, seeing where your bodies meet and his hand touches you. Your body aches for him, more of him.

Like he was able to read your mind he slightly picks up his pace, removing his hand from between you to hold on to your hips with both hands. His thrusts are becoming so forceful you have to grip onto the sink to steady yourself. Your sweaty foreheads pressed together, breathing in each others' air you feel it building in the pit of your stomach, all the sensations making you dizzy, you're so close. Your hand grabs a hold of the back of his neck and your crash your lips on his as you come, your back arching you into him and your head falling back, a sound you didn't know you could make coming from your mouth. As you convulse around him, your legs tightening on his sides, your muscles on his shaft, he thrusts in a couple times more before finishing inside you with a deep grunt, his hands sure to leave a mark on your hips. Trying to catch your breath you hold him close to you as the aftershocks shake your bodies, and you whimper as he pulls out. He cups your face and plants a kiss on your lips, a long, lingering one.

"I love you, Tuck," you say panting, placing your hand on his chest. He smiles.

"I know, sweetheart. You told me last night," he murmurs, and seeing your shocked impression he presses his lips on yours again, smiling.

"I love you too."

You are about to reprimand him for not telling you about it sooner, when you hear voices.

"Oh how lovely, rose petals and everything... Are those strawberries?" you hear Lauren's voice from the living area, making your fingers dig into Tuck's shoulders. You immediately jump down from the sink, your heartbeat throbbing in your ears as Tuck pulls his pants swiftly up, and you grab your shoes from the floor, making your way to the newlyweds to distract them.

"Oh you're here already, did you get tired of your party already?" you smile, appearing in front of Lauren and FDR. Then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror across the room, and your expression matches that of Lauren's. Your hair is in disarray, the top of your bra is peeking out of your dress and your whole neck and décolleté area is red.

"Whatcha been doin'?" FDR asks smirking, when Tuck appears at your side.

"You lovebirds calling it a night?" he chimes in with his shirt out of his pants. Lauren's face goes from shocked to angry in a flash.

"You had sex in our bridal suite?!" she exclaims. Tuck scratches the back of his head.

"Huh, looks like they caught us. Might as well give you these then," he says smiling, handing you your thong. Your face must flush fifteen shades of red as you grab them, hiding them behind your back.

"You had SEX in our BRIDAL SUITE?" Lauren repeats, her hands balling into fists as FDR laughs.

"Well we didn't do it on the bed, if that helps any," you point out shrugging, grabbing Tuck's hand and making your way quickly towards the door.

"Hey Tuck Tuck," you hear FDR's voice just as you reach the door.

"Way to go, man," FDR laughs and tries to high-five Tuck, at which point you think you can see smoke coming out of Lauren's ears, making you retreat quickly to the hallway. The pair of you run laughing all the way to the elevator.