A/N : You guys, I've been trying to add this chappy for DAYS. Was it just me, or was the system down? (frowns) Anyway, here ya go, just a little MiSa honeymoon sweetness. Please please please let me know what you think - I need you more than ever!!!

Love,

XO

You're the honey and the moon that lights up my night. (Joseph Arthur) Michael

Michael

And just like that, the plane takes off into the sky and Michael's hand clutches hers reassuringly. Inside of his head, there is yet another song reverberating. Another voice that sings to him of how lucky he is to have found her. Of how it was meant to be. He listens and sings along to the tune, while she stares at him with those beautiful brown eyes.

I'm living for her,

breathing for her,

singing for her fairytale.

(Ben Jelen - Come on... beautiful!)

Her eyes close as the plane gets higher. A small smile plays along her lips and the backpocket of the chair before her is stuffed with her 'flying nessecities'. He thinks it's cute, the way she flies.

Sara is finally at ease now, after having run around like crazy, preparing for this journey. After all, you only go on a honeymoon once in your life. Well, they only go on a honeymoon once. Because they found the right one from the first time. (Nika didn't count, of course.)

The plane steadies itself, and Sara's eyes flutter open. His fingers are carressing hers sweetly and she squeezes softly, before reaching her hand forward and getting her Cdplayer out of the pocket. Flipping through her Cdcase, still single-handedly, she chews on her lip and Michael regrets the crowdiness of the plane. Finally, she nods satisfied, and takes out a compilated one, reading 'Mayflower'. Laughing softly at her husband, she puts the cd in place and hands Michael an earpiece. He takes it, only to find out he has gotten the left on, while she is on his right side. Nevertheless, he puts it in his leftear and leans in. She looks at him oddly, but he grins. "You gave me the left one."

Truthfully, the only reason why he hasn't returned the thing is because this gives him a chance to be close to her.

A slow voice starts singing in a language they will need. Emmanuel Moire proclaiming his love in french. He looks at her with a kink in his brow, and she shrugs. "We need practice," she simply states and he agrees with her.

Je fais de toi mon essentiel

Celle que j'aimerais plus que personne

(eng : I'll make of you all I need, the one I would love more than anyone)

And he kisses her, because he knows the meaning, and how it applies to her perfectly. He needs no one else. People smile their way and, glancing at Michael free left hand, whisper to their neighbours of the newly-wed couple in the cabin. Everyone looks their way with tender looks on their faces and Michael keeps on kissing her.

Sara

The rest of the flight went smoothly. They listened to music, chatted silently and watched a movie together, with the shared headphones. Michael still hadn't switched earpieces, and she didn't complain. His hand never left hers either.

She loved it. More than she had loved her flight with Veronica, because this is Michael after all, her husband. Sometimes, it still amazed her that she was now a married woman, with a husband and a daughter, when only two and a half years ago she was a lonely prison doctor, with hardly any friends. Now she had a posse of girlfriends, who got together regularly.

As a girl, she'd always dreamt of France, and of the beauty of it. She'd heard of the wine, the cheese, the leisurely evenings spent under a starry sky, with crickets chirping their way through the silence.

Michael and her had rented a cottage somewhere on the côte d'azur, where they said the sea was the bluest and the beaches yellowish. She looked forward to it. Some people's eyes had bulged out of their sockets when the couple told them that no, they would not be spending their honeymoon in a 5star hotel, but that they would go family-style, without their daughter for once.

And when they arrived at their cottage in Bormes-les-Mimosas, it was just as Sara has imagined. Behind the small house, there was a terrasse, circled by vines, and surrounded by a beautiful garden with a swing. She leaned against the white pillar and stared at the blue sky, leaning into Michael as he came to stand behind her. "It's beautiful here, Michael."

He nodded, his head moving next to hers on her shoulder. "It is."

They spent the afternoon grocery shopping at a beautiful market, smelling the different sorts of fruits and vegetables, taking in the atmosphere...The managed their french pretty good, and got three kisses each from an old, rimpled lady who held open a stall and who – upon seeing their joined hands and golden rings, came out from behind her displays of aromatic goods and started handing them stuff for free. "Les mariés, vous m'apparez heureux." She said. (Newlyweds, you look happy.) And that was all there was to it, for her. Looking happy and in love was enough to get free stuff.

With their bags full of goodies (and freebies), they walked back to their house at ease, chatting on about the woman and the kindness of everyone there. France was beautiful, they concluded. 'Living like a God in France...', whoever said that – was right.

Michael

Sara retreated into the small kitchen, that was decorated with painted tiles of leaves and flowers, while Michael tried to find a signal for his phone. They had, after all, promised a bunch of people to call. Being popular had its downsides. Finally succesful, he dialed Henry's number and patiently waited for the man to pick up.

"Pope residence."

"Henry?" Michael smiled at hearing the man's voice.

"Michael!" The man laughed. "We were wondering when you were going to call...I bet you're living quite the life over there, huh?"

He sighed softly. "It's amazing, Henry, you should see it : it's like Paradise. And everyone's so kind, and Sara is...Well, Sara is just amazing, as always. I don't know how I ever got along without her."

Henry laughed. "She's a treasure, alright. And I'll bet she's cooking right about now, am I right?"

"Hmm- Hm. We went to the market this afternoon, and got lots of free stuff. My wife is making something delicious as we speak."

His make-shift father smiled at the other end of the phone, as he heard his 'son' speak so lovingly of his wife, not yet believing the reality of being married, and still counting his lucky stars. That was one of the things he loved about Michael, his happiness of having found Sara and his amazing, neverending love for her. It made Henry a proud man.

"That's great, Michael. I'm quite jealous, actually. Anyway, I'll keep it short, I know how much an international phonecall costs. Do you want me to ring your brother for you? Then you can call him next time, and then he'll call me, savvie?"

Michael chuckled. Ever since Henry had moved on from Harry Potter to Pirates of the Carribean, he was crazy about expressions like 'parlay' and 'savvie'. "Okay, thanks. Sara's beckoning me that dinner's ready anyway, so I'm going to leave you. Kiss my girl for me, okay? And give my love to the Misses."

"Will do. Mrs Taj sends her love back. Kiss Sara for me, alright? See ya Michael. Enjoy yourselves."

"Will do. Bye."

Sara

Sara looked at her husband, standing in the middle of the green yard, running his hand over his head as her spoke to Henry on the phone. A huge smile broke out on her face. She loved this man more than anyone. Even after two years of being together, he still made the butterflies appear. And now they were married and on their honeymoon, here in this beautiful country where time appeared to stand still.

She made the table and beckoned him with her finger, indicating that dinner was ready. She'd made them Chicken Parmezan, with actual Parmezan, and lots of spices. Returning her ovenmittens to the kitchen, she saw him approach out of the corner of her eye and giggled when he attacked her sides. "Micha-hal!"

He grinned next to her and took her hand, leading her to the table, where they sat opposite of eachother. Michael, being the gentleman that he was, served Sara before he served himself, and commented her cooking after taking only one bite.

She protested. "You haven't even taken a proper bite!"

"I have." He defended himself. "And it was delicious. A feast for all the senses. "

Sara blushed profoundly. "Thanks. How was Henry doing? Our girl not giving him too much trouble? "

Michael grinned. "She's being a perfect angel. We did a great job raising that girl."

"Honey, she's not even a year old."

"You can tell who the troublemakers are from the third month." She rolled her eyes. "It's true!" he exclaimed. "I read it in Woman's weekly."

Sara laughed at his enthusiastic face. Only Michael could be totally serious about something he – mind you , he, the excon with tattoos – read in Woman's weekly. Michael smiled lazily at her, and she battered her eyelashes at him over her glass of delicious 'country-made' wine.

He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively and she chuckled. "First, you're going to eat that Chicken Parmezan, then we're going to have loads of wine and cheese and talk for hours, while hearing the crickets all around us and seeing the moon up high in the sky. We'll look for stars we know and make a wish." She counted down on her hand and finally smiled up at him. "and then we can consider your suggestion."

Michael looked apalled. "Not immediately shot down? Holy – I think you're nicer now that we're in a different country. I should bring you here more often!"

She chuncked her napkin at him, hitting him straight in the face, and took off running into the yard. He stuffed the last piece of Chicken P into his mouth (after all, she did tell him to finish it) and ran after her, adding 'Making sure Sara gets the proper punishment' to their to-do-list.

Yes, I rented that cottage once with my family...It was beautiful out there. So I wanted to get it in here. Please, y'all. I need you tonight.

XO