honeymoon!

The rest of the evening went fairly quickly. I kissed her frequently, as I recall, and won ample smiles.

We had decided to go out of the country on our honeymoon, to an old castle in England that was costing me a year's salary.

Again, not that I minded.

Claire had booked the room, but under strict orders not to ask the cost. I suspected she had anyway, but I tried not to.

The entire party gathered as we stepped into the car (thanks again, Jake).

All the women crowded up front, and Claire faced them. She looked at the bouquet, smiling, and then to the people. She closed her eyes, spun, and threw. The white flowers zoomed through the air, over the crystal blue sky, and into a pair of waiting arms.

Leah laughed so hard she cried, or perhaps cried so hard she laughed, and hugged Emily tightly. I swore I made out the words, "I'm sorry," and "So am I," passing between the two as Leah held the pure bundle of forgiveness and hope close.

Stupid superstition, the flower throwing, but then again I used to think werewolves were a stupid superstition.

If it can make a difference to Leah's open wounds, you won't catch me complaining.

Claire waved to the people, and they cheered. I held the door for her, and she got in the car. I was ready.

We drove to the airport, smiling the whole time. I thought there was a fair chance my jaw would drop off from the grinning.

We talked a little, not much. Both of us were fairly delighted by how nicely everything had gone.

However, she was not particularly looking forward to the eight hour flight and four hour drive before our arrival at a bed. And Claire was probably much less fond of that dress than I was at the moment.

Yes, she was flying to Europe in the wedding dress. I'd spoken to someone about it, and the young woman thought it was terribly romantic. She directed me to a special plane with gigantic seats that I could rent for just the two of us. It could also land directly at the hotel, a place called Thornbury Castle, cutting travel time in half. Claire didn't know this, of course.

Surprises are wonderful, whether or not she hates them.

I grinned at that, and Claire asked, "What is it?"

"Nothing," I taunted.

"Please tell me."

I looked resolutely at the road. I couldn't resist her, and she knew it. Grrr.

"Fine, don't. I'll get it out of you, though."

"Of course you will."

We rode in a perfect silence for a while, eventually getting out of the car at the airport. I escorted Claire through security, trying to help the inconvenience as much as possible. She tried to get me to leave her alone, but I refused.

Everyone seemed rather interested in our wedding finery.

"So, what gate is it?" she asked, and I finally couldn't contain my mirth.

"Let me show you."

I guided her to the little-used gate farthest down an obscure hallway, where the tiny plane waited.

She smacked me. "Quil!"

"It's our honeymoon. I didn't want you to muss your dress, and it's such a tradition to show up in the clothes… please?"

"You stink."

"I already paid."

She eyed the plane critically. "All right."

I took her hand and walked her to the very comfortable and sizeable interior.

She sat comfortably a ways away, smiling at me the entire ride. I was pleased to have won her forgiveness, of course. I also enjoyed the ride. It was very… weightless. Quite pleasant, to be in the air free without the usual cramped seats and lack of leg room.

There were two other people, the pilot locked in his cabin and a stewardess who brought us cocktails and a bowl of snack mix. Neither ate.

I realized this was the first time Claire had left the country. I'd been to Canada as a kid, but I doubted Claire's father was one for educational trips.

The thought of Jack Denson could still make me cringe almost twenty years after I'd killed the man.

Eventually, Claire came to sit beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her beside me. I wondered if she was warm there… my skin would always burn with the speed of my werewolf metabolism, ready to phase if needed. Until the day I died, I'd be able to turn into a wolf if she needed me too.

I had accepted what I was, but I wondered if she ever thought about it.

The plane landed smoothly on a long runway lined with green. The trees were small and arced over us. The grass was manicured, absolutely tiny, like someone had cut them with fingernail clippers.

I offered Claire my arm. The stewardess followed us with the obese suitcases I'd prepared. We strolled up to the building. There was only one way to describe it.

It was a castle.

The crumbling turrets were of grey stone, and had small arrow slits, ready to defend from attack. The walls were tall and smooth, maintained beautifully.

And the place was huge, not in the sky-scraper way, more in the way that seemed like everything in it would be gigantic.

There was a suit of armor in the tiny lobby. An energetic red-haired woman explained that it had been modeled after armor belonging to King Henry the Eighth, who'd visited here. Two children visiting in the last year had nicknamed it Aaron, after the boy.

The name stuck. Claire was delighted by the whole experience, and so was I. However, there'd be plenty of time to enjoy this place later. Right now, we were both eager to check out a bed (and a toilet).

She took us to our room. It was called the Queen Anne room, with a carving on the door and a lock of ridiculous size. There was an actual key, at least a foot long and made of what couldn't really be solid gold, but was putting up a good front.

The room was gorgeous, tapestried with pale gold walls. There were two huge windows valanced in red fabric, a walk-in closet, a pair of ivory armchairs and a waiting decanter of brandy.

The carpet was thick, and there was a rose on the bed.

The one bed.

Claire smiled. "Wow. This is really something."

"Claire… there's only one bed."

She laughed. "I noticed. It's kind of hard to miss."

"Claire…" I didn't know what to say. My mouth was very dry with an emotion I interpreted, not without surprise, as nervousness.

"I just married you, Quil. We're on our honeymoon. They don't make honeymoon suites with two beds. And it's plenty big enough."

That I couldn't argue with.

Claire noted my speechlessness and opened the closet, reaching for the top of her dress. "Help me with this."

"What?"

She gave me an are-you-really-that-stupid look. "Help me get the dress off. I can't reach the zipper, and I don't want the dress to get ruined. Our daughter can wear it at her wedding."

I stared for an instant. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

If she was nervous, she showed no sign of it. I walked to Claire and gently tugged the zipper down.

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