The little red light on the electronic door lock stunned her. Why was it so bright? Shane's heart rate kicked up a notch as she tried the card again, taking another glance toward the well-dressed, mysterious man near the elevators….only he was no longer near the elevators.

The red light on the door shone again, this time with such intensity that she shielded her eyes with her hand. The man was coming closer. She wanted to try her card again, but the possibility of the little red light blinding her caused her to refrain.

Knowing her mother was inside, and likely still awake due to her afternoon nap, Shane could call for her to open the door. She didn't want to cause alarm, though, so she lightly rapped on the door. No answer. She glanced at her phone, but there was no signal.

The man was slowly approaching her.

She couldn't unlock the door and she couldn't call anyone, so she hastily glanced around, wishing for any means of escape.

The south stairwell near their suite. It was her last hope.

Sending up a quick prayer, she dropped the load of laundry and rushed to the door of the stairway, pushing with all her might. She ran so swiftly down each set of stairs that she felt as though she might tumble to the bottom.

After descending one flight, she heard the door above her slam shut. She kept pushing on until she had reached the second floor. Her breathing grew heavier as she rounded to take the last set of stairs to the lobby level. Suddenly, a strange darkness began to surround her. She gasped and froze on the platform, not willing to fall into what now felt like a bottomless pit.

A strong pair of arms encircled her before she could start making her way down once again. Infuriated, she initially resisted and called out for Oliver as if he could magically hear her and come to her rescue.

"Shhh."

Shane could no longer run, but she no longer wanted to. Energy depleted and mind fuzzy, her heavy eyelids closed and she sank back against the one who held her.

In what seemed like the very next moment, her eyes opened, her mind clearing, and Shane blinked in the darkness. Taking one deep breath after another, her breathing slowed as realization crept in.

The arms around her, the deep voice in her ear—it was all familiar, and she welcomed it as she willed her beating heart to slow.

"You're okay. I've got you."

Oliver.

Shane blew out another deep breath. Slivers of light shone through the window to her right, bringing her additional comfort. She wasn't in a dark stairwell, but safe and sound in the bedroom of the hotel suite.

"What's wrong, Rita?"

"Oh, I just can't sleep, Norman. What am I going to do?" Rita wrung her hands nervously as she stopped pacing beside the bed and looked at her husband worriedly. "Now I have two secrets to keep! Oliver wants to surprise Shane with a wedding and Shane wants to surprise Oliver with a wedding." She flung her hands around animatedly as she rattled away. "Why did they have to involve me in this? They both know I'm no good at keeping secrets!"

Norman sat up on the edge of the bed and gave Rita a sympathetic smile.

"First of all, I'm really proud of you, Rita. You had a pretty lengthy conversation with Shane and didn't let the cat out of the bag. I know that wasn't easy for you."

Rita sighed. "I only made it through one phone call, Norman. Now I have to figure out how to help plan two different weddings, for the same couple."

Norman stood in front of his wife and put his hands on her upper arms. "Secondly, you shouldn't stress, sweetheart. It's not all up to you. Joe and I are helping, too. And Sharon. And you know, Oliver and Shane have already discussed most of their plans, so he's pretty much got everything in order."

"That is true," Rita agreed.

"Think about it this way. All the little details are pretty much the same, right?"

"Right," Rita replied, relief beginning to creep through the lines of worry on her face.

"You can just let Shane know that things are being handled. After all, they can only have the one wedding."

"Well, actually…." Rita started, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh, yeah. Well, I'm sure they'll stop after the next one," Norman said decisively, nodding his head seriously as she chuckled. "My point is, they both know you know about a surprise wedding, so the only real secret to keep is that they're each doing this for the other. So what's the problem?"

"I guess there really isn't one, now that I think about it," Rita mused.

"Exactly." Norman leaned in and gave his wife a brief kiss. "It will all come together, and it will be beautiful."

"Shane."

As they sat in the darkness, Oliver's arms were still around her, holding her firmly but gently.

Shane blew out yet another breath and turned her head to face Oliver. Though she could barely make out the outline of face, the concern etched in his features was clearly evident.

Placing a hand on his cheek, Shane pulled his head toward her and kissed him. It was a kiss of gratitude—without saying a word, she let him know just how relieved she was to be safe in his arms.

"My goodness…." Oliver said, once they had parted, his heart now beating as quickly as hers had. "I think I could grow accustomed to rescuing you from your nightmares."

She quietly giggled and Oliver sat back against the headboard, lightly pulling her into the curve of his arm. He silently held her to his chest with one arm, his other hand stroking her hair.

"That must have been a terrible dream. Are you feeling any better now?"

"Yeah," Shane responded softly, to both his comment and question.

"Do you….want to talk about it?"

"It was silly, really." She sighed. "I dreamed that I was trying to get in the suite and my key card wouldn't work. A man started coming toward me and so I bolted down the stairs as fast as I could. I was almost to the lobby when everything got really dark and he caught up with me. At first I thought he had grabbed me, but then I realized it wasn't him—it was you."

"And that's when you started waking up. You were calling my name," he stated proudly.

"Oh," Shane replied with an embarrassed chuckle. "Well, who else would I call?" As the words slipped out of her mouth, she immediately felt guilty.

"Good answer," he replied, chuckling, and she cringed inwardly. "I hope that you always want to call on me when you're in need, even in your dreams."

"Thank you, Oliver." She hesitated, pulling back slightly from him. "But I do have a….little….confession."

He smirked. "You didn't climb any more trees while I was asleep, did you?"

Shane chuckled nervously. "No, of course not. But….after that….incident….I did end up calling….Steve."

Her statement was met with a moment of silence.

"Oh." Hurt was evident in his voice, but it eased as he attempted to rationalize what she had just told him. "Well, it was only a dream, Shane—"

"It wasn't just a dream, Oliver."

"What—what do you mean?"

She took in a shaky breath.

"After you went to sleep, I went down to the main floor and washed the contaminated laundry." She paused hesitantly. "And when I was done, the man followed me."

Shane could feel Oliver's muscles tense up, and even in the darkness, his jawline became noticably rigid.

"Some man actually followed you to our suite?" An unfamiliar emotion lined his voice.

"Well, not all the way," Shane amended. "I first noticed him behind me as I was heading down the hallway to the lobby. Then when I went on the elevator, he must have taken the stairs. He had to have known what floor I was going to because by the time I reached our room, he was on our floor near the elevators, looking down the hall at me."

"And you're certain this wasn't part of your dream?"

"That part was real, Oliver. I came inside—my key card actually worked in real life, thank goodness—and Mom was still up, so we talked for a while. I never mentioned it to her, though, because she doesn't need anything else to worry about right now."

"That's understandable," he stated.

"And you were still sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to bother you."

"That's not understandable," he spoke firmly. "So that's when you called Steve?"

Shane nodded reluctantly, then remembered the darkness surrounding them. "Yes."

"Shane, I was right here, and even if I'm not right here—I'm your husband. You should alert me, especially when something of that nature occurs. I need to know when you're in danger."

"There's really nothing you could have done, Oliver."

"But Steve could?"

Shane licked her lips.

"Well, I—." She sighed. "Oliver, it was strictly a professional call. You and I both know something strange is going on with Alex, and I have a feeling that Steve knows a lot more than he's letting on. The mystery man from last night could somehow be part of this whole thing."

Oliver's eyes would have bored into hers had the room been well lit. "And just what did Mr. Marek tell you?"

"He wouldn't talk about it over an insecure phone line. He wants us to meet him at nine o'clock this morning downstairs in the lobby."

"That's several hours from now. I'm well-rested, but you are not." His tone was flat, and Shane knew him well enough to know he was irritated. "I suggest you get some more sleep."

Shane paused for a moment, feeling dejected. "Oliver, please don't be upset. After all, I chose you. And I will choose you every day for the rest of my life."

Oliver's demeanor softened, and he quietly replied, "I'm not mad about you calling Steve. Maybe a little hurt, honestly, but I understand now why you did."

"Then what has you so on edge?"

Oliver's lips parted slightly as he narrowed his eyes. The couple had adjusted to the low lighting of the room and could see each other a little more clearly now.

"I don't like the idea of someone—some unidentified man—following my wife." He clenched his teeth, his hands tightening into fists as his fiery eyes connected with hers. "If he had touched you—"

"But he didn't, Oliver."

"What if it happens again, Shane? I don't want you traveling anywhere without me while we are here in D.C."

"Okay." Shane bit her bottom lip.

"Promise me that you will keep me informed, no matter what," Oliver requested.

Shane nodded. "I promise you, Oliver."

They sat together for a minute in silence before Shane spoke again.

"You know what's really strange to me? The man had opportunities to come closer, but he kept his distance. I don't think he was out to harm me. It was like he just wanted to keep an eye on me."

Oliver contemplated the situation for a few moments, remembering what Steve had spoken to him in confidence. Perhaps the man wasn't a threat to Shane after all, but just the thought of her possibly being in harm's way sent anger coursing through his veins and he inadvertently tightened his hold on Shane.

"Oliver?" Shane reached up and touched his cheek. "I'm fine."

Oliver took her hand and kissed the top of her fingers for a few seconds. "I love you, Shane McInerney."

"And I love you, Oliver O'Toole." Her lip curled up on one side. "You're my one and only."

After about an hour of tossing and turning in her sleep, Shane sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

"You can't sleep?"

"Oliver! You're still awake?"

"Uh, I do not believe I have a habit of talking in my sleep," Oliver said with a chuckle.

"I'm still worked up over that stupid dream. I need something to take my mind off it."

"Like what?" Oliver inquired, knowing that reality was bothering her as much or more than her nightmare.

"Well, what can we do in the middle of the night?"

"What would you….like to do?" Oliver cleared his throat as Shane covered her face with her hands and groaned inwardly.

"I'm not sure I should answer that question truthfully," she finally muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Oh….nothing!"

She could hear Oliver stifling a laugh. "I must admit, my dear, that having your mother here, in the next room, has certainly kept me in check," he said, barely above a whisper.

Shane sighed and chuckled, a grin spreading across her blushing face. "Well, this will definitely be a story to tell the grandkids."

"I'm not sure it's appropriate to tell them this particular story," Oliver replied.

"Why not? It's pretty g-rated." Her voice emanated sarcasm as she rolled her eyes in the dimly lit room, her back still to Oliver.

A deep chuckle sounded behind her. "I must admit you have a point there."

"Oh! I just thought of something." Shane leaned over and turned on the lamp beside the bed to the lowest setting. As Oliver watched, she hurried to the closet and pulled out her duffel bag, setting it on the end of the bed.

"I'm really glad you brought my duffel bag. I was saving this for our official honeymoon, but maybe you need it now." Her face turned slightly pink once again and this time, Oliver could see it.

"Shane—I'm not sure if that's a good idea since we are not yet—"

Shane stopped unzipping the bag and looked at Oliver, puzzled at his resistance.

"Oh!" she finally exclaimed, her mouth forming an O. "You think this is—"

A few seconds of silence was shared between them as they stared at one another.

"Well, I just thought that perhaps…."

"Perhaps what?" Shane narrowed her eyes, growing bold enough to tease him.

He awkwardly cleared his throat once again. "I just thought that perhaps the bag included a certain type of attire that, once we decided to….exchange rings….you might prefer to wear in lieu of the pajama sets you currently choose to wear." His eyes darted around the room as he spoke, then finally landed on her once again.

Shane grinned mischievously. "Well, for your information, I do own a less modest type of….attire….to which you are referring, but that's not what I am going for at the moment."

Oliver blew out a breath.

"Relieved?" Shane asked, her eyes twinkling as she held back a laugh.

"Only because of the timing," he answered. "And because if I were any more enticed by you, I'm afraid I would lose every ounce of self-restraint."

Shane beamed. "I don't think you have to worry about this making our situation any more challenging."

She unzipped the bag and reached in to pull out a box wrapped in red, white, and blue. Settling back on the bed beside Oliver, who was propped on the headboard, Shane held out the gift to him, her eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile on her face.

"Ahh. What's the occasion?" Oliver asked, taking the box from her.

"Consider it a 'legally wed' present." She giggled. "It was supposed to be a post-wedding present, but, well, the timing just hasn't felt right."

"But now it does?" Oliver asked.

Shane nodded. "I could save this for when we get back home, but we might be a little too….distracted." She tucked her bottom lip under her top teeth and eyed Oliver flirtatiously.

His eyes narrowed at her, his lips curving slightly upward in a smile, resisting the urge to kiss his wife. She watched as he carefully tore into the gift and finally lifted the lid of a shoebox.

"I had a feeling this wouldn't be shoes," he said, once he saw what was inside.

"Nope," Shane replied. "Definitely not shoes."

He reached in the box and from the top, pulled out one of a couple dozen envelopes, each of which was simply addressed "Oliver". He immediately recognized the handwriting as that of Shane's.

"What….is this?" Oliver inquired, looking up at her.

"That is the first of many," she replied, settling back on the bed with the box between them. "Open it and see. There's a letter opener in there. I supposed it was time I returned it."

Oliver reached in the box and found his favorite letter opener. "Ahhh, the one you tried to use against me when you found me on your porch in the middle of the night."

She giggled. "That's the one."

As though he were attempting to preserve every bit of the envelope as possible, Oliver cautiously slit it open and pulled out a letter dated years ago. Understanding dawned on him, and his voice was a bit unsteady as he read the words aloud.

"Dear Oliver,

Tonight we danced, right there in the Dead Letter Office. As we glided to the music and you held me in your arms, my mind could not help but wonder what could happen, what it would be like to be completely yours.

I'm not sure I'll ever know. But I do know that you are the most loyal man I've ever met. As much as it pains me to have a wall between us, I understand why. Although I wish things could be different, I would never want you to change who you are. After all, you are a gentleman….and that is what I love most about you.

Shane"

Oliver stopped and looked up at Shane, amazement in his teary eyes, a lump in his throat rendering him speechless.

He looked over the letter once more, then folded it and placed it back in the envelope. Without saying a word, he got up and pulled his suitcase out of the closet.

Perplexed, Shane watched his slow, deliberate actions. He set his luggage on the bed beside her duffle bag, unzipped the suitcase, and rummaged through a stack of clothing.

He held up the ring boxes and Shane's heart stopped.

Looking at her intently, he said, "Tomorrow. Rain or shine."

Shane grinned at him and nodded.

He put the ring boxes back and pulled out a stack of correspondence in a rubber band, then returned to sit by Shane.

"I do apologize, but your gift is not wrapped."

Oliver handed Shane the collection of envelopes. The top one revealed Oliver's handwriting and was addressed to Ms. McInerney.

"No!" Shane exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

"Well, I didn't have any wrapping paper and—"

Shane punched him in the shoulder and they laughed.

"I don't care about wrapping paper!" Shane exclaimed. "We have both been writing letters to each other?"

"It appears that way," Oliver replied, chuckling.

Shane slid the first envelope out of the stack, feeling as though she might burst.

"This is absolutely incredible," she commented, taking Oliver's letter opener to unlock the contents.

The couple had ear-to-ear grins as Shane began to read.

"Dear Ms. McInerney,

One year ago, I turned around at a coffee stand and found myself face-to-face with my newest employee. Only I didn't know at the time that you were being 'misdirected' to the Dead Letter Office.

You came in and not only turned life in the DLO upside down, but you have greatly impacted my personal life as well.

It is with immense gratitude that I celebrate your one-year anniversary with us. As you know, I believe nothing is coincidental, and the very delivery of your person to the DLO was truly divine. You arrived at the time when we—when I—needed you most.

Sincerely,

Oliver O'Toole"

Shane had to pause a few times while reading to take a breath and wipe the tears from her eyes. Once she had finished reading the first letter, she looked at Oliver lovingly.

"All this time, we have been writing love letters to each other. Like Jonathan and Katherine, only we didn't exchange them in real time."

Oliver smiled longingly at her. "When we were locked in that bank vault, I discovered the passion you had for the romantic written word. I was inspired and desired to make that happen for you, though in our case, written correspondence has not been a necessity."

"Thank you, Oliver. I knew you were something special from the very moment we met. I wanted to document our special times together and my feelings along the way, and I thought, what better way than to write letters to you, since you truly appreciate the value of the written word."

"The value of these letters far surpasses anything I have ever read before," Oliver remarked, his voice strained with emotion.

Shane nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I agree. It's truly amazing how different we are, yet we often think so much alike. We're—"

"Soulmates," they said together. Their eyes connected and they helplessly melted into each other. Their kiss was deeper and more passionate than ever.

Oliver pulled his head back as they breathed heavily.

"Shane, this isn't what I had planned for you. Not here, not now. Not like this, with your mother in the next room."

"Well, that takes care of the moment," Shane said, placing her palm on her head. "And I was completely wrong about letters not challenging us."

"I'm so sorry, Shane," Oliver told her, laughing with her, feeling amused but even more remorseful. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's okay. I understand, and I totally agree." Shane blew out a breath. "Thank you for that teaser, though."

Their laughter grew and they shushed each other before sobering.

"You're not upset, are you, sweetheart?" Oliver asked her, sincerely worried.

"No, Oliver! I promise, it's all good. I'm trusting the timing," Shane replied.

"Good." He took a deep breath. "Because I promise you that tomorrow, there's no holding back."

His words sent a shiver up her spine.

"Wait a minute," Shane said, recalling Oliver's earlier statement, as she knit her brows. "You have our 'wedding' night planned?"

Oliver smirked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I do. And that's all I will say about that."