There was a reception with much louder music and more friends and some bar-hopping and an inappropriate amount of tequila. Eliot and Savannah collapsed backwards onto their bed looking far less glamorous than they did at the ceremony. It was barely before dawn. Hardison and Parker had taken their prepacked luggage and disappeared off to their honeymoon, surprisingly not tired.

"So Parker and Hardison are married," Savannah said with a sigh.

"Mmhm," Eliot confirmed.

"They're so happy."

"Yeah. Happily married." Eliot was aware he was staring at her as she stared at the ceiling. The bliss that was there during that first dance was still swimming in his brain.

She turned to look at him, but she didn't seem aware of how intensely he was looking at her. "Do you think things'll be different?"

Eliot just shook his head. She turned back to the ceiling. He soaked in the silence. The thought escaped his lips before he realized he said it out loud. But he realized immediately he had no desire to take it back. "What if we got married?"

"I think things would definitely be different. In like, the best ways though." He waited for her to look at him, but she didn't. She spoke as if he'd asked a rhetorical question. Which technically he had. But he meant it.

"Savannah." He made sure to say it with meaning.

She snapped towards him, face drenched in shock. She started to sit up. "Wait, Eliot, are you…" She couldn't finish.

He sat up next to her. "Yeah." He sat up straighter. "Savannah, do you wanna marry me?"

She managed to look even more taken aback. "I…" She rapidly shook her head as if to rid herself of a pest. "You're not asking this just because you wanna have sex, are you?"

The laugh slipped out. "Well, I would be lying if I said that wasn't a motivating factor."

"Eliot!" She elbowed him sharply.

He ignored it and took her hands. "Savannah, no. I want this. This. Forever."

She said it like a reflex. "Why?"

He was incredulous for a moment. But then he understood. It was the constant feeling of being unworthy; he knew it well. He looked around the room as if physically searching for the words. "Because when I'm with you, I don't feel the weight of the things I've done." He opened his mouth to say more, but he decided to take a page from her book and leave it with fewer words.

His heart swelled as she nodded, a gesture of understanding. She waited a moment before seeking assurance again, "And this isn't some sort of midlife crisis because Parker and Hardison got married?"

"My midlife crisis was joining the team," he quipped, his mouth ahead of him again. He waited for admonishment, but she only gave him a quick smile and a shrug. The silence was long. "Savannah," he pressed.

"Can I get some time to think about it?" She sounded on the verge of tears.

His heart burned. He tried to rationalize. "We don't have to get married right away," he assured her.

"Eliot, please. This is just...it's a big deal for me, okay? I'm just wrapping my mind around having romance in my life. I need a minute to process 'happily ever after'. Please?"

He felt like it was frustratingly simple. Did she want to marry him or not? This time, he managed to stop his mouth, and he just nodded.

She leaned in and kissed him hard. He wanted it to be an answer. A silent yes? A kiss goodbye? But of course, he couldn't ask.

He was amazed he had managed to fall asleep that night/morning, particularly sleeping next to a woman he thought loved him but couldn't answer his proposal. He was also surprised that, of all things, he was awoken by a crack of thunder. Except when he rolled over and realized that may not have been what woke him; Savannah was gone.

Instinctively, he got out of bed, heading towards the bedroom door and swinging it open, expecting to catch her in the hall. She wasn't there. He searched. He looked in the pool, the gym, Parker's jungle gym, the conference area, everywhere he could think of in the building. He took a second look in the garage, and it dawned on him that her moped wasn't there. He fought the burning in his chest as he went back to the bedroom. He ripped open the chest of drawers. Few things were missing, but Savannah had taken her damned duffel bag… and left her phone.

It was confusing. She had maybe taken a few essentials, but left several things he knew were sentimental. And she had left her phone, he couldn't reach her. It was so intentional.

Another crack of thunder sounded. It was storming pretty bad. He remembered the first time he saw her happy, during a rainstorm. He wondered if she was just out in the rain, having the time of her life somewhere.

The first day, he just kept waiting for her to come through the door, telling him that she had just gone out for coffee or to the underground market or to see her sister. But she didn't. The storm continued.

The second day, Eliot spent all day battling with himself on whether or not to call Parker and ask if she'd heard from Savannah. He didn't want to disrupt her honeymoon, though, especially with the possible end of his relationship...Would Savannah still be part of the team if they split up? Would he still want her to be if she actually didn't want to marry him? He tried to ignore the implications as he made a few attempts to log in to Hardison's computer to see if there was some leftover tracking device, but computers still evaded him. The rain continued, stopping only enough to keep the streets from flooding.

The third day, he asked himself a thousand times to go somewhere, anywhere, get away from headquarters and start accepting that she was gone. He toyed with the idea of going to Van House, but he knew Dani wouldn't let him live down that this was Savannah's response to his proposal. He thought about going to the Oasis too, but he knew she wouldn't go there in the rain. He may not have gone anywhere, but he did start telling himself that she was gone. He even started to accept it. It was still raining.

The fourth day, the storm raged, but Eliot was wrapped up in his grief. He tried not to mope, but he did spend all day staring, not really watching hockey on the massive monitor in the conference area. As he contemplated going to bed, which he knew just meant changing from a sitting to a laying position on the couch, he heard something: a soft screech. It was outside. He didn't know how he heard it over the calamitous storm. It was so familiar, distinctive, but he couldn't place it. He found himself headed towards the front door as he thought he finally figured it out even though he was certain he was wrong. She was gone. He would go outside and there would be nothing there but water and darkness. He was going to make sure.

He was wrong. The first thing he saw as he burst through the doors into the wide driveway was that stupid gradient blue moped with that stupid duffel bag on top of it. She was walking towards him. Things froze. He soaked her in from afar. Drenched black pants clung to her legs. The sliced edge of a pale blue tank top dripped water over the glint of a fresh navel piercing. Her hair draped around her like a coat, enhancing the water fall around her legs. Her face was distressed and puffy; she'd been crying for sure. She walked towards him through the storm as if it wasn't there. She was there.

He was angry. How could she disappear like that on him? Right after he asked her to marry him? And made sure he couldn't contact her? He was angry. He was furious. He was incredibly, overwhelmingly, violently angry...for about two seconds…

His hands caught her waist like that's where they belonged. Her arms wrapped around his neck with such a sense of ownership. Her lips, he missed her lips so much. Those were his lips. The way her tongue tasted...like a dish he longed to replicate. He resisted the urge to tear the wet clothes from her body and take possession of her flesh.

She sucked in a breath, breaking the kiss. "Yes. Eliot, I want to marry you."