From Forever to Forever: To Hold

Okay, here it is: my lemony chapter. I hate writing these things, so, in the words of Lilias-chan, these scenes incorporate "waves crashing on the beach" or the "cut to the fireplace". (Actually, that waves-crashing analogy is taken a little too literally!) Credit majorly goes to the Space Pirate Ryoko—she edited/co-wrote most of this thing, since I'm such a little wuss! (Arrigato, Ryoko-oneechan!) Without her, well, these couples would still be staring at each other, not knowing where to put their hands!

Warnings: Well, these couples *are* straight, so if you're not into that, you might not be into this section. (sorry…the guy/guy stuff will come eventually!) If you *like* girl/guy stuff but don' t like Relena, you might want to skim over the first part and read the other two. ^_^

Disclaimer: Obviously, since there is nothing greater than a nice little "I'm nothing compared to you" in the romantic world of cannon GW, this is a complete work of unassociated fiction! The real stuff is owned by Sunrise and the Sotsu Agency. This OOC, non-cannon, fictitious, and pathetically sappy story is all my imagination. And I expect nothing for it. So please, don't sue me. All you can get out of me are…more ideas for pathetically sappy fanfiction!

C&C is always welcome. So are flames…

From Forever to Forever

Part Six: To Hold

September 3rd, A.C.204—Heero Yuy—8:24 p.m.

We've been sitting on the beach for hours, not really talking about anything. The waves that had been a good distance away when we sat down are now lapping against our feet.

I look down at Relena's delicately painted toenails as seawater gently swells up past her feet and toward her thighs.

Her toes are beautiful.

I look out at the ocean again, noticing how the sunset has washed the world in gold. Even the water has a golden tinge. It takes me back nine years, to a time when I couldn't appreciate a beach washed in sunset—or the girl I met there.

I turn my head back to Relena. Her hair is bathed in the glimmer of the sunset as well, making her look even more beautiful, somehow.

I take her hand, lacing our fingers together. Her eyes meet mine, full of love and happiness, and it makes my heart beat wildly. Even after all this time, she still drives me crazy—every time I look at her it's like I'm sixteen again. We've been married for five days, and I don't think I've ever felt better. I bring her fingers to my lips, kissing them and nibbling gently.

She laughs musically, not pulling her hand away.

Only half playfully, I straddle her legs, my jeans getting soaked by incoming waves. "Do you know how incredible you are?" I ask, tilting her chin upward so I can look her in the eyes. I pull her closer to me, kissing her neck softly, my fingers tracing a line up her side to hook themselves under the band of her red bikini top.

"Heero," she protests, trying to push me away. "Not here." She glances around for passersby.

"It's secluded." No one has come by for hours. "Besides, I like you on the beach."

She smiles, leaning toward me again. Her arms reach around me, caressing my back beneath the loose button-up shirt. "We met on the beach."

"I proposed on the beach." I let my hands wander over her body, roaming down her smooth, long legs and back up to her neck. Reaching up to her hair, I release the clasp of the clip holding it off of her neck. Golden locks fall forward, framing her smiling face. I run my fingers through the silky strands. She smells of wildflowers.

When did she become everything to me?

I kiss her softly, enjoying the feel of her warm lips against mine. She winds her arms around me, encouraging me to take things further. I push her back gently, but then realize that sand will get in her hair. Breaking away, I remove my shirt, laying it behind her on the cooling sand. She leans backward, pulling me along with a gentle laugh. As our lips meet again, I begin to pull at the clasp of her bikini. I need to be closer to her. After all this time, I still fumble with the hook.

She growls softly, nipping at my lower lip. Her hands run over my chest, scratching and caressing my sensitive skin, making me glad I'd gotten rid of the shirt. She moans as I pull her swimsuit off and lower myself against her.

Even though her body isn't new to me, ever since the wedding I've felt like I've been learning it for the first time. Everything about her is so incredible to me.

I slide down to kiss her stomach, working my way lower as she runs her fingers through my hair. I trace circles on her flat abdomen with my tongue, then impulsively take the clasp of her cutoff denim shorts between my teeth. She gasps as I try to unfasten them—unsuccessfully. Relena laughs merrily and arches her back—my long hair tickles her, so I shake my head against her belly. After several more of my failed attempts, she reaches down and assists me with the button. I flush with embarrassment, relieved that my face is in shadow.

I slowly pull the shorts down her legs, kissing the exposed flesh near her hipbone. Her skin tastes like saltwater—like salt and that sweet Relena taste I like so well that I never bothered to find out if it was unique to her. Flinging the shorts off to one side, I catch the red elastic in my teeth, beginning the process again with the tiny bikini bottom.

I'm more successful.

Relena has somehow managed to unbutton my jeans, and in a frantic hurry we peel the wet denim from my legs. I laugh as she tugs, her lower lip caught between her teeth in frustration. "Maybe you shouldn't have laughed at me," I scold lightly, reaching down to help.

Between the two of us, the jeans come off—with a cry of triumph, Relena flings them up the beach. I pounce on her. She's still giggling as I pin her to the sand, but the laughter fades as she looks into my eyes.

I don't mean to be serious, but I'm overwhelmed with love for the girl beneath me. My bride. I smooth her hair from her forehead, enjoying the feel of her skin so close to mine, her breath ragged and hot on my face. I suddenly don't feel like a frolic on the beach—I want to make love to her, to make her understand everything I'm feeling.

"Ai shiteru, Relena-chan," I whisper in the old language of my childhood. Someday I want to teach it to her—more than just the few phrases she already knows.

She laughs again, softly, bringing her forehead close to mine. "That's the big one, huh? Are you sure you want to say that?"

I nod. "I love you—now and forever."

With another laugh, she tries to duplicate the sounds. "Ai shiteru, Heero Yuy."

I hug her close to me, wanting to lie in the sand holding her forever. As the waves lap at our knees, I kiss my wife thoroughly. We move against each other slowly, and she smiles as I delve my fingers into her golden hair.

September 3rd—WuFei Chang—9:43 p.m.

I delve my fingers into her damp hair, massaging Sally's scalp. She purrs happily, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her firm, wet body against mine. The tangy scent of shampoo, combined with her seductive half-closed eyes, makes me almost dizzy with lust. I take a deep breath, cleansing my mind, fighting for control. If I do what I want right now, suds will be everywhere-- this isn't baby shampoo—it could be volatile stuff.

"Close your eyes, woman," I growl before the white foam can drip down from her forehead.

She laughs, turning her face up into the stream of water and rinsing her long hair. I lean my body more firmly against hers, kissing and licking along her collarbone as my fingers get tangled among the locks of wet hair. She laughs again, pulling away. Damn, I can never get enough of the throaty sound of her laughter. I nuzzle against her shoulder, nipping at the skin of her neck.

"That tickles," she murmurs, pulling me under the showerhead and tilting her head back so I can nibble more of her throat. The hot water runs over my head, dampening my hair. Sally reaches past me, grabbing the bottle of shampoo. "It's your turn now." Squeezing a bit onto one hand, she places the bottle back on the shelf and pulls my head from its resting place on her breastbone. I slide my hands onto her hips, yanking her closer to me—the slippery tile floor keeps forcing her to readjust her footing, making my wet skin cold without her warmth. She tilts her head down slightly, kissing my jaw as she works the shampoo into my hair. Her breath tickles against my neck. I find it strange that my skin is immune to the onslaught of hot water and steam, yet one warm breath of air from Sally can be so stimulating and arousing. This woman makes me crazy.

"Do you know how much I love it when you leave your hair down?" she whispers, her mouth against my ear. Her hands continue to plunge through my hair. "It drives me wild."

That's one of the reasons I stopped pulling it back. I had merely left it down one morning and the reaction from Sally alone was enough to make me throw out every hair band I ever owned. I only wore it that way to fight—the same way Meiran always had. When had it become such an ingrained part of me that the change could affect Sally?

I rinse my hair out quickly as Sally wraps her arms around me. She smiles at me, her eyes sparkling and her lashes damp and clinging together. She's the most amazing thing I've ever seen, and I still wonder how we managed to come together like this, to pull away from the terrible past and become so happy.

"So, are you gonna make a move mister, or do I have to do all the work?"

As delicious as that sounds, I'm not about to let her have the upper hand—yet. I maneuver her carefully, leaning her back against the cold tile walls. She giggles, a shiver passing through her body and into mine. I smooth her hair, noticing how it shimmers against the deep blue of the walls. Steam and filtered light make her even more beautiful. I kiss her, capturing her mouth hungrily and watching as her eyes slowly close.

Moving against her, I do what I'd been thinking of all day.

She arches against me, tucking her hands into the hair that's dripping onto my shoulders. Bracing my feet on the non-skid ducklings that Sally had thoughtfully stuck to the shower floor years ago, I lift her up, supporting her between my body and the wall as the fluid motion overtakes us. With a finesse that comes only from years of practice, she wraps her long legs around me, tucking her head into the curve of my neck.

"WuFei . . ." she whispers deeply. Her voice makes me hungry for more.

I nuzzle my forehead against her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of apricots. She lifts her chin, staring at me passionately, ignoring the rivulets of water that stream down her face. Careful not to lose my precarious balance, I lick the water from her face, down over her shoulders and the top of her breasts. A tiny moan escapes her lips, getting me more excited.

Our movements become more frenzied, and suddenly I'm unaware of the water cascading over us, unaware of the steam or the smudges our body movements leave on the fogged glass door. All five of my senses are locked on the woman in my arms. The taste and smell of her delights me, her long hair plastered against her skin—her incredible flawless skin—is a feast for my eyes. She cries out, biting her bottom lip as she pushes herself more firmly against me. Another second and I'm right with her, clutching her against me as I shudder in ecstasy.

I could do this the rest of my life and never get enough.

I lean against the wall, catching my breath. Sally cradles my face in her hands, her expression loving.

"I hope we can stay like this forever," she sighs. She immediately realizes what she said and looks away, embarrassed.

Forever. Nine years ago I had no concept of life. I thought mine was fated to end with Treize Kushrenada's. I never expected to wake up the morning after the last battle, shaking with the realization that I no home to return to, to battles to fight. And Sally had been by my side then, too. Only I had been too blind to notice her.

I study her carefully. She's beautiful—I've never thought otherwise. But there's more to her than beauty. She's the most intelligent woman I've ever met, and she's loyal and honest and everything a person like me could want in a woman. More than I could ever want.

She's changed my life in every possible way. I reach forward slowly, caressing her cheek with the back of my hand. She won't meet my gaze. I tilt her chin up, initiating a slow, passionate kiss. She is my life. The kiss becomes more aggressive as I realize for the hundredth time how much she really does mean to me. I pull away, breathless, barely perceiving the fact that the water is cooling rapidly around us.

I stare at her excitedly, realizing that, as perfect as our life was, it could be even better. "Why not?"

Her confused eyes meet mine. "Why not what?" She squeezes the water from her hair—a nervous reaction to my scrutiny.

"I can't imagine a future without you, Sally. Will you—" my words are cut off when she places two fingers over my lips.

"Don't say it, WuFei." Her voice is steady, but her eyes are pleading. "Don't say anything you'll regret."

"Marry me." I speak the words in spite of her fingers and her soft eyes. She's cautious because she doesn't want to be hurt, but there's no way I could cause her pain. I want her to know that. My heart beats rapidly as I wait for her response.

Suddenly the light seems brighter. The sound of the water against the tiled floor seems painfully loud. And I feel cold. She hasn't said anything yet.

"WuFei." Her voice his low. Serious.

It's suddenly clear that she wasn't being careful of her own heart, but of mine. I feel like my stomach has dropped from my body.

"There's nothing I would love more than spending the rest of my life with you." There's more. She's hesitant about something. I feel it coming and try to brace myself. "But I can't leave the Preventors. This job is my life—I've never been happier."

I nod, trying not to be disappointed. "I know," I whisper, pained by the unshed tears in her eyes. We'd agreed a long time ago that things were good the way they were. I'm an idiot for thinking it all had changed. I look at my feet—they look huge next to Sally's.

"WuFei."

One of the ducklings has somehow lost its head over the years. Maybe it's time to replace them.

"WuFei, listen to me." Her voice is commanding. I look up at her.

Tears are sliding down her cheeks, mingling with the now-cool water of the shower. I've never seen her eyes look so blue. It hurts. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me against her warm skin. "You'd better never go anywhere, WuFei Chang," she whispers into my hair. "We don't need the stupid paper saying we're together. We don't need to give up our lives as Preventors. We both love our work." She pulls back a little, looking at me seriously. "I love you. We're gonna be like this until we're too old to walk, got that? Married or not, I'm yours."

She's right. Looking into her bright eyes, I see that her words are true. I smile slightly, relieved that my rash proposal didn't spoil anything.

"Of course," I whisper, feeling sheepish. I don't say that I still would marry her, jobs or not.

I kiss her lightly, reaching past her to turn off the water. I shiver—we've never stayed in this long before, but I'm not finished. With a smile that feels wicked, even to me, I press my mouth against the curve of her breast. She gasps, quivering under my assault. I move my lips downward, sucking away the droplets of water that sprinkle her flesh.

"WuFei!" Her tone is admonishing. I take it to be a good thing. With a growl, I flick my tongue over the smooth skin of her stomach. She trembles more, twisting her fingers through my hair. Her bellybutton looks delicious to me, so I taste it, grinning as I move downward from there.

September 3rd—Quatre Winner—11:29 p.m.

I grin as I move downward from her delicious bellybutton. Silvia laughs, a mischievous giggle that reminds me of how terribly wicked we're being. The grass is soft beneath us and the night air is warm on our skin. I look at my wife, for a second shocked at just how much skin we have exposed. She bats her lashes playfully, running her hands through the tangle of her golden hair.

"You're going to stop there?" she asks, her voice thick with seduction.

No. Definitely not. With a growl, I pounce on her, using every trick and skill I'd picked up in our five years of marriage. I'm anxious to please, and, judging by her delighted whimpers, I do. Glancing up at Silvia, I'm happy to see her eyes meet mine in the semi-darkness; she's beaming.

A few minutes later, I crawl up to her side, not caring if the knees of my tuxedo will be stained from the grass. I gave up renting years ago—this thing is mine to ruin as I see fit. I catch my breath, watching her chest heave beneath her thin slip. A few grass stains are well worth this.

"Having fun?" I ask playfully, dropping a light kiss on her nose.

She gives me a deadpan look. "The sprinklers aren't on yet. How can this be fun?"

I laugh heartily. Leave it to Sil to think that slipping away from a dull party to fool around in the garden can't be fun without a little water play.

The laugh dies in my throat as I feel the first trickle of water soak through my pants. Another stream falls onto my chest where my wife so eagerly tore the buttons off my shirt. I glance up, alarmed.

The sprinklers.

With a howl of gleeful laughter, Silvia jumps to her feet, dancing merrily through the water. I don't move, watching her from where I lay. She looks like a ghost with her pale hair and thin white slip. Her bare feet are enticing as they step through the damp grass.

"Come on, sweetie! Dance!" She leans over me, holding out her hands eagerly.

I stand slowly, pulling off the remains of my shirt and flinging it onto the pile of Sil's dress and shoes. The strains of music from the party can be heard over the hum of the sprinklers, and I grab my wife around the waist, twirling her into a wet waltz. Soon we're both laughing, not caring how loud we're being as we dance around the many flowerbeds.

She laughs, collapsing against me. "Are you happy, Quatre?" she asks, running her fingers through my soaked hair.

I pull her even closer, wrapping my arms more snugly about her narrow frame. "How could I not be?"

"Mmm," she purrs. "Good answer." She looks at me, a sly smile on her face. "I hope there's no one you need to say goodnight to," she laughs.

I follow her gaze—my pants are drenched, splashed with mud and grass stains. Her slip is in similar condition. We glance to where we left our other clothes—her satin dress sits atop a pile of ruined formal wear. Definitely not presentable.

Looks like we won't be putting in a final appearance at the party. Our colleagues will wonder where we disappeared to, but I hope they don't ask. "I guess we'll just have to stay put until everyone leaves," I suggest wickedly, licking the water droplets from her neck.

Silvia giggles her approval. "Sounds good to me." Her teeth clench as I take her earlobe into my mouth.

"Let's play some more." I whisper. My voice sounds hoarse, even to me. I'm not about to waste an opportunity to catch my lovely wife in a damp tryst.

"We'll play my way!" With a wink, Silvia pulls away, hopping onto an old wrought-iron bench. She throws back her head, her wet hair flying in front of the moon. With a giggle, she strikes a pose, flirting with the hem of her slip. I don't tell her that it's become transparent. I don't scold her for jumping on slippery garden furniture. I just stare. How did I, of all the men on Earth and in the colonies, get to be so very lucky? She's stunning—easily the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She smiles contagiously, reminding me that her heart is even more beautiful than her body.

I walk slowly to her, putting my hands on her hips and kissing her navel through the thin, damp satin. She seems to comprehend the change in my mood, leaning into me and wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning down to kiss me deeply. I pick her up from the bench, letting her slide down the front of me until she lands delicately on her feet. I love her so much. My wife. The mother of my daughter. Silvia.

I pick her up again, cradling her against my chest as I carry her into the deeper recesses of the garden. The sprinklers stop their shower as suddenly as they'd started, leaving a heavy mist in the air. Kneeling on the glistening grass, I lower her carefully to the ground. Our haven is beneath a flowering bush—the soft white petals sprinkle over us and scent the air with their light perfume.

"Silvia," I breathe, not caring that the wonder I feel is written all over my face. "Do you know how much I love you? You're incredible."

She blushes. After all these years, her face still flushes when I compliment her.

"You're my whole world, Quatre," she replies, not breaking our gaze.

She doesn't realize how much her words affect me. I move my hand up her thigh, beneath her slip. Maybe I can show her.

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