Others in series:
1. Spy Bride
2. The Wedding Night (NC-17, PG13)
((You don't necessarily need to read them to get the gist, but most of the funny is gone if you don't.))
Title: Between Honeymooners' Sheets
Series: Different Shade of Normal
Author: Dream Writer 4 Life
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo an insinuations
Genre: Humour, romance, fluff, and smut. Otherwise known as...huromflut. But you guys don't get to see the smut, so it's just...huromuff.
Archived: SD-1, FanFiction.Net (v. PG-13), Cover Me, and Omega-17 (v. NC-17). Anywhere else, just ask and you shall receive!
'Shippers' Paradise: S/V with hints of Weiss/F
Spoilers/Timeline: AU: no Evil!Francie; Weiss and Francie are dating; Will and Francie have dated; Sloane, Sark, and Irina are on the loose; SD-6 is gone; everything from Season 2 is fair game.
Disclaimer: I own the entire world, because that's where they'll be traveling over the course of the story. I own every place they go, every restaurant they eat at, and even every position in the Kama Sutra. Hell, I own you. Since I own so much, I don't need to write for money. I don't even like writing. If that didn't tip you off to my compulsive lying, I don't know what will. In other words, I own nothing. Period. End of story. Wait, no it's not! Keep reading!
Summary: Syd and Vaughn's unusual honeymoon. Third in the Different Shade of Normal series. A Dream Writer Experience.
This Chapter: Lemme just put on my mouse ears and Cinderella dress that only fits my pinky now, and I'll answer that for ya...
Suggested Soundtrack: Heh, heh..."Every Other Time" by LFO, "You're the Only One" by Maria Mena (my new favourite song EVER), "Extraordinary" by Liz Phair, and of course "It's a Small World After All".
Author's Note: I'm fudging my definition of a DWE a bit for this one. Usually they're up to five chapters long; this, on the other hand, will be about nine. Oh well. It's my phrase, I can do whatever the hell I want with it. Enjoy!
Between Honeymooners' Sheets
Chapter One: The Happiest Place on EarthLittle light filtered through the heavy, embroidered window hangings. Sydney threw them open with audible pomp and circumstance, allowing the full force of the morning sun to envelop the room. She stood directly over the air-conditioning vent and leaned against the sliding glass door, the frigid air cooling her heated skin. "Remind me again why we decided to come to Disney World? I don't think there's a muggier place in the world."
"You've obviously never been to Chicago." She rolled her eyes. "We came to see Mickey, of course," Her husband responded from the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and emerging with a wet washcloth. He placed it on the back of her neck, droplets sliding down and bleeding into her spaghetti strap shirt. Following their progress with his eyes he added, "Why else?"
"So seeing me in a bikini has nothing to do with it?" She teased, feigning hurt pride.
Wrapping his arms around her waist and toying with the button of her jean shorts he added, "I don't know. Maybe. Why? Is that a promise?"
"Only if you go on a water ride with me," She answered, breaking out of his grip and sauntering over to the four-poster bed and her suitcase. She extracted her two-piece bikini without much searching. Dangling it in front of him and dancing to imaginary music, she taunted in a singsong voice, "Come one, Michael. You know you want to. Bikini-clad Sydney, water, and an adrenaline rush all make Michael a happy boy." He merely ignored her, flopping down onto the bed and closing his eyes. Pouting slightly, she retreated to the bathroom to change and return the washcloth.
Newlyweds Michael and Sydney Vaughn had left their wedding night lodging in Montana late in the evening instead of right after breakfast as they had planned; they had gotten slightly distracted. Teddy picked them up from the cabin after dinner and helped them along to Disney World in Florida, their next honeymoon destination. En route, they made reservations at the Wilderness Lodge on the Walt Disney World campus for an undetermined stay. (The snooty receptionist had been silenced when he heard her mention Jack Bristow, and offered their most luxurious room as soon as they arrived, no matter the hour.) Neither of them had ever been to the childhood fantasyland, so they made a mutual pact to lay off the sex — for the first few hours, at least. Sydney was already starting to resent the agreement.
She emerged to find Michael sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king-sized bed, a pad of paper on one knee, a pen in his mouth, and five maps laid out in front of him. Laughing slightly as she secured the shorts over her bikini bottoms, she perched on the corner of the bed heavily. "What the hell are you doing?"
He did not even look up from his work. "Planning. What does it look like?" He answered around his pen. Taking up a map of the Magic Kingdom, he began thinking out loud. "Alright, if we spend two days at the Magic Kingdom, we could spend half a day at Epcot and half a day at MGM while still having time to hit up Animal Kingdom and maybe even Sea World before we get tired of this place. Now, which rides should we go on at the Magic Kingdom? Okay, I've got it: we'll start in Tomorrow Land with the Buzz Lightyear dealy, then we'll hop over to the Dumbo ride and the Teacups...Oh, but are they in the same general vicinity...?"
"Michael," She interjected, refraining from laughing to save his ego. He looked up sharply, almost startled. "We've literally got all the time in the world. We don't have to make lists or draw up maps; we've free to do whatever we want whenever we want." She moved behind him, kneeled on the bed, and began kneading his shoulders. He arched his back into her expert hands, moaning, and she saw his pants tent almost imperceptibly. Leaning down next to his right ear, a devilish smile played with her lips as she whispered, "Wherever we want."
The tent lifted higher as his head dropped to her shoulder with another low moan. "But Syd," He rasped, eyes squeezed tightly, "our pact."
Rolling her eyes, she massaged harder and moved to the other side of his head, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Chalk it up to another unnecessary rule that was begging to be broken."
She could feel the resistance leaking slowly out him just as she worked out the tension knots in his shoulders. He nuzzled into her neck, his short breaths tickling her ear. "Children..." He panted.
"Yes please."
"No," He corrected, words still clipped, "that's not what I meant. There are children in the parks."
Straightening up, she slowed her ministrations to a stop, leaving her hands drift around his biceps airily. "Is that a challenge I hear, Mister Vaughn?"
"Sydney..." He warned, turning around and sending a few maps to the floor. "What are you thinking?"
"Oh calm down, Michael!" She cried, rising to float across the room and stand over the air-conditioning vent. Staring out across their brief balcony, she peered over the three pools, each crawling with excited children; two Jacuzzi's practically void of adults; and the lake beyond the artificial beach. Everything was pure and beautiful and wonderful and perfect, but a different perfect than Montana. A populated perfect. A non-Triscuit-worthy perfect. A commercialized perfect. But even as each thought washed over her mind, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach reeled them back revealing the only vision that mattered: her husband. Turning back to him, she smiled and thrust her fists into her hips. "We're here to enjoy ourselves. Not to worry; not to plan; not to stress. Just you—" She sashayed her hips "—me—" another swing "—and a hell of a lot of sex. If that means sneaking into the Tomorrow Land bathrooms or the Thunder Mountain service closet or a quickie during the Haunted Mansion ride, then so be it. I know I won't be hurting."
Michael stared at her for a moment, starting at her bare feet and legs, moving up from her white jeans shorts and tan midriff to her breasts and green string bikini top to her grinning face and twinkling eyes. Suddenly he swept the rest of the objects off the bed in a melodramatic gesture. "Lie down. Now."
Giggling in amusement, she shook her head and practically danced over to where she had dropped her drawstring backpack when they first entered the room. She double-checked it for her card (Teddy gave them another copy before they parted ways), a water bottle, suntan lotion, and her sunglasses. Grunting in frustration, she extracted a map of the Magic Kingdom — more than likely placed there by her dear husband — as if she were handling a venomous snake. Tossing it in the trash she replied gleefully, "Not on your life. A girl needs a little mystery doesn't she? A little excitement?"
Throwing up his arms in surrender, he pocketed his wallet in the back of his board shorts and straightened his grey muscle shirt. "You make no sense, m'dear."
"And you like it that way." If possible, she grinned even wider and threaded her arm through his. "The next monorail for the Magic Kingdom leaves in five minutes. You game?"
He peered at her in bewilderment. "How do you do that? Without a map or schedule?"
Buffing her nails on her shoulder she replied, "What can I say? It's a gift."
The cute security guard at the entrance to the park caught her eye, probably because he had been staring at her ever since she stepped into line. She felt him ogling her body, more specifically her rear end. At first, it was annoying, but when the man licked his lips as she bent down to return a dropped baby rattle, she began to find the situation supremely amusing. She was used to grabbing men's attention on missions, but she never sought the spotlight in real life. It was ironic how now that she was married (happily to the man of her dreams), now other men began eyeing her. 'Hmm,' She mused to herself as an attendant handed her a ticket. 'I wonder if Michael—'
Suddenly an arm wrapped possessively around her waist, pulling her hip into direct contact with her husband's. She briefly glanced up at his face and struggled to suppress a bemused smirk. His jaw was firmly set as he glared directly at the security guard. For a moment, she thought Michael was going to deal him a fatal paper cut to jugular, so she resisted him when he steered them towards the metal detector the man was tending. But a part of her wanted to see how this would play out, so she maintained flirty eye contact with the security guard as they approached.
Jake — as his nametag read — processed their tickets and offered the bin for metal and sensitive items. Syd placed her backpack in it while Michael extracted his wallet. Before she stepped through, though, her husband grabbed her left hand, prominently displaying her ring. "Do we need to take off our wedding rings? Will they set off the detector?"
The smile quickly faded off Jake's face as he noticed for the first time the matching bands on their ring fingers. He shook his head shortly and hurried them through. This time, the laughter and accompanying smile bubbled up without warning and she did not try to bar their way. Vaughn's triumphant smirk as he gathered their belongings and returned to her side only fueled her. She shouldered her backpack and stuck her hand in his back pocket. He placed his own hand possessively on her backside, but she could only feel one of his fingers.
"Michael Vaughn! Stop flicking off the poor man! He didn't know any better!" They began walking the incline towards the actual entrance. "Should we stop somewhere private so you can mark your territory, or would you rather do it publicly?"
He pinched her right butt cheek in response, making her jump slightly. Instead of slapping him, she stroked his ass through his shorts, eliciting a low moan. She continued her ministrations until they reached Main Street U.S.A. Staring up the decorated and crowded drive, her eyes finally reached Cinderella's Castle, and her arms dropped to her sides as she gasped. Latching onto his arm, they began navigating through the families and their balloons, prizes, souvenirs, and sticky candy. The couple quickly made their way to the fairy tale castle, detouring only to buy one disposable camera each from a random souvenir shop. She pulled him to a halt before the cobbled walkway, hastily trying to unwrap her camera without taking her fascinated eyes off of the castle.
Michael chuckled in amusement as he split the plastic open, keeping her from practically tossing it on the ground and bashing it with a rock. "Thank God we're here alone and not with children; you'd be as bad as them. If not worse."
"It's my first time," She mumbled distractedly, trying to back up far enough to fit the entire castle into the shot.
He chuckled again openly, tilting her camera so it was vertical. "I'm glad you weren't like this our first time. Come to think of it, it would've been a huge ego-booster."
She ignored him and took the picture. "Michael," She chimed sweetly, twining their arms together, "can we live there? Buy me the castle, Michael. It's real pretty. And we do have the cards—" He silenced her with a sudden kiss, lifting her face to his greedily. He suckled on her bottom lip as if he were trying to leech a portion of her youthful curiosity. She felt all her excitement pool in the centre of her chest, converging and condensing before zooming straight to her core. The camera fell to the asphalt unheeded as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Just as suddenly as it started it stopped. Sydney languidly opened her eyes to see her husband's smiling face, gleaming with glee. "Hello," He stated.
"Hello," She replied. "Thank you for that. But don't think that's changed my living plans. That tower's for your mom; that one for my dad; that one for Will; that one for Weiss and Francie—"
"Hold on," He interjected as he picked up the camera and they began strolling away form the castle and towards Tomorrow Land. "Why is Weiss included in all of this?"
"Because," She answered in mock exasperation, "I need my partner-in-crime near at hand to pull pranks. I can't keep the crazy glue in our wing of the castle! That'd just be poor form."
He shrugged a 'whatever,' and they continued over a bridge lined with gawking children and tired parents — despite the early hour. She squeezed Michael's hand and nodded over to one parent in particular. His four children were each clamoring for their own picture by a statue of Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse, his wife juggling four backpacks, four drinks, one camera, and countless stuffed characters. The husband, however, slowly drifted off against a wrought-iron fence. Sydney smiled confidentially and whispered, "That's you in ten years."
He raised an eyebrow at her and joked, "What? Fat, balding, and carrying my wife's purse?"
"No," She contradicted impatiently. "Happy, safe, with four children, and back in Disney World for some sort of anniversary."
"Four?" He questioned as they continued down the path. "I don't know 'bout you, but I want, like, four million."
"Alright. But only if you have three million nine hundred and ninety-six thousand of them." The couple passed under the futuristic gate of Tomorrow Land, comprised of space shuttles, stereotypical aliens, and multiple planets. Lining the fences, small game shacks sang out a myriad of themed music and enticing offers to play. Eyeing one in particular, she nudged Michael in the ribs with her elbow. "Hey, how good are you at ring toss?"
Rubbing the spot of impact gingerly he responded, "Did you not see me hook your garter around Eric's champagne flute at the reception?"
"Yeah, but...Do you think you could beat me?"
"Is that a challenge, Missus Vaughn?"
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't recognize a challenge. Congratulations: you've graduated kindergarten. I hear first grade's really fun."
"Whatever. I'm sure I can let you win a few games. Wouldn't want you to feel bad enough to withhold sex."
"'A few games'? Honey, prepare to get your ass handed to you. After I beat it 'til it ain't cute no more."
"I though that was Francie's job."
"She's not into bondage like I am. You know that."
"In that case, you're on. Whoever wins gets to do whatever they want to the loser. And the loser can't complain."
She closed her mouth with an audible snap, but eventually nodded. "Bring it on, boyfriend."
"That's husband to you."
Their contest spread to other games as well, and pretty soon each person was laden with enough prizes to bog down an African elephant. After finding lockers for their stashes (Michael had to pay, as he was losing at that point), they set aside their competition for a time and decided to tackle Michael's list of Rides They Could Not Miss For a Million Dollars, Two Million Dollars, or Even Sex. They hit Space Mountain, the Teacups, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Thunder Mountain before stopping for a rest in Frontier Land. Both collapsed onto the same bench, leaning on the other for support, while Sydney chugged her third water bottle of the day. She passed the rest off to Michael, who merely took a sip and slipped it into her backpack again.
Closing her eyes against the harsh midday sun, she laid her head on Michael's shoulder. "I feel like there's something we're forgetting. Something big."
"Well, we still have to go on the ferry boat ride, the Haunted Mansion, It's a Small World—"
"It's none of those," She interrupted, opening her eyes and staring off into the distance. Piercing screams and the sound of crashing water drew her attention off to her left in front of them. A large 'log' dropped steeply with a gigantic splash. 'Lightbulb moment...' "Splash Mountain!" She cried, leaping off the bench in excitement. "How the hell could we forget Splash Mountain! Come on! Everyone's at lunch, so the lines should be short—"
"Not a chance, Syd," He protested, not shifting from his seat. She peered at him curiously and he expanded, "It's not that warm out anyway, despite the sun. There is no way I'm going to drench myself and get pneumonia and ruin the rest of our honeymoon."
"Oh, but then I could get a nurse's outfit and play doctor! Isn't that every guy's dream?" He glared at her witheringly, and she began to plead shamelessly. "Come on, Michael! Everyone who goes to Disney World rides Splash Mountain! Everyone. And I hear it's completely worth a little runny nose. Please, Michael? For me? For your wife?" She switched on her charms: eyes widened; brows drew together; lower lip jutted out; and she snuggled into his side.
He shook his head adamantly. "Nope. And I'm not even going to wait with you and walk through, because I know you'll only muscle me into a seat."
Letting her hand wander as close to his crotch as she would allow she tempted, "if you come with me on this one, there's definitely something in it for you later."
His eyes shot to her own, and she could see the war waging within him. The hand strayed higher to brush against him for the briefest moment before recoiling completely. She saw his own appendage twitch as if to bring hers back, and she struggled to smile only in her mind. Without warning, he sprang from the bench, grabbed her arm, and began pulling her towards the beginning of the queue. She finally allowed her lips to curve happily.
The line fluctuated with the cloud cover, which had increased during Syd's pleading. They waited a surprisingly short amount of time, which kept Michael's complaining to a minimum. She insisted they ride in the first row so they could get their "time's worth in terms of splash-ige." They exited the ride on shaky and soaked legs and sat down on the same bench as before, Michael wringing water out of his shirt and Sydney doing the same to her hair. The latter could not contain her urge to laugh as her husband slipped off a shoe and up-ended it, tipping out at least a full cup of water.
"Thank you so much for coming with me, Michael," She smiled sweetly, taking up his hand and stroking her own cheek with it. "You have no idea how much it meant to me."
He began to grumble under his breath, but upon glancing at her face and shining eyes, a reluctant grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Well, it was fun. I guess it could've been worse."
She mirrored his expression and replied, "I loved it too." She suddenly leapt to her feet, shoes squelching lewdly, and began tugging on his arm again as he groaned loudly. "We have to play games now; we have to!"
"Why, Sydney?' He whined melodramatically.
"Because I have this huge kick of adrenaline and I don't want to waste it standing in another line. Prepare to get your ass whooped. Again."
This time Sydney doled out change for a locker.
But she had an excuse.
As they played, she mulled over reasonable rewards for her husband's selflessness. Many of her ideas were dismissed, however, due to the elevated risk of getting caught by either park security or worse: unsuspecting small children. But as the couple raced their way back to their starting point in Tomorrow Land, a perfect solution dawned on her. The Blue Line — a tour of Tomorrow Land, future Disney technology, and other developments Syd did not care about — was the perfect place for what she had in mind. A four-person car designed like a space shuttle slowly followed an excessively tame and covered track around the section of the park with an accompanying narration over a public address system. 'Bingo isn't a strong enough word. This is so going to make up for getting him soaked.'
She guided him towards the non-existent line with a sly smile.
He descended the stairs at the other end of the section in a daze as she bounded energetically in front of him. "Let's go, Michael!" She exclaimed from the foot of the staircase while he was still halfway up. Suddenly something off to her left distracted her, and she literally squealed in excitement. "Mickey! Oh, my God, it's Mickey Mouse! Do you think he'd sign my boob, Michael? I don't have any paper."
"That mouse is getting nowhere near your chest. Plus, I heard he's a big player."
"'A big player'?"
"Huge."
"You're full of it."
"No!" He countered, finally reaching her side. "He's got all the women in the world in the palm of his glove!"
"Shut up and get out the camera."
The couple proceeded to stalk every Disney character in the park, taking multiple pictures of each. But when Aladdin started hitting on Syd, Michael steered them into the all-but-abandoned line for the It's a Small World ride. She groaned and began to duck under metal poles in an attempt to escape the queue, but her husband grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her back. "No, Michael," She protested firmly, eyes wide and sincere. "I will not have that insipid song stuck in my head for the rest of my life. I've heard the stories; people go in completely sane and come out in straightjackets and talking to themselves. No. Nuh-uh. No way. Not happening."
"Please?" Michael pleaded as the only other people in line piled into a boat. "Think of it as another thank-you."
She stared at him in disbelief. "So what happened on the Blue Line wasn't enough retribution?"
"No! It's just..." He trailed off, fumbling for words. "Believe me, you're really going to enjoy this."
After a long moment filled with a skeptical glare, she nodded but frowned. "Fine. You're the one who's going to be stuck with a psychotic wife for the rest of your life."
A bright smile paraded across his features as he dragged her to the awaiting boat. Already, she could hear the daunting song playing farther up along the track: "It's a world of laughter, a world of fear. It's a world of hope and a world of tears..."
'Whoever wrote that song should die a long, painful death at the hands of my father,' She though wryly, a sadistic grin lilting her lips.
The boat clinked along on the underwater track, the questionable water sloshing as the bow easily cut through it. They passed under an archway and into "North America". Canadians, Mexicans, and Americans mingled together, the small childlike mannequins twisting and dancing robotically while lip-syncing the incessant song. "Michael, you owe me big time," She threatened under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. "You owe me so big that if you really did buy me Cinderella's Castle, you'd still be in the doghouse."
Michael grinned secretively as they crossed into Europe. "I think I can fix this." With that, he promptly sank to his knees in front of her.
They found themselves in an alley between two buildings, and the couple began jogging lightly towards the more populated end. As they melded into the crowd, they slowed to a fast, purposeful walk, heading for a vacant bench under a tree. They both collapsed on it, spewing sidesplitting laughter. She brushed hair off her sweaty forehead as she choked out, "I can't believe you broke the ride so we could have sex! Are we that desperate?"
"You have to admit," He replied, breathing just as restricted, "it was very thrilling."
"Yeah, but...Oh man!' Their eyes found each other and locked, and the laughter slowly died in their throats. "Hotel?"
"Way ahead of you." He helped her up from the bench and, slipping his hand in her back pocket, guided the pair towards their lockers of prizes. But as the plush toys began tumbling out, Michael stopped her with a hand. "What about our competition? Don't you want to try to beat me one more time?"
She smiled devilishly and shook her head. "Nope. Now you get to do anything you want to me, and I can't complain. Don't you dare say anything, Michael Vaughn." He snapped his mouth closed, slightly put off. "Now," She segued, fingering a small Mickey doll, "what the hell are we going to do with all these toys?"
"I've got an idea." He set aside two large stuffed animals and packed two pairs of mouse ears and as many small ones as would fit into her drawstring backpack. There were a good amount still lying on the ground around their feet, but Michael merely gathered a number of them into his arms, wandered out into the middle of the paved walkway, and began handing them out to children and their parents, explaining that he and his wife had won more prizes than they cared to carry. Sydney grinned proudly before taking up the rest of them and joining him, loitering until all the toys were given away. They reclaimed their large animals and headed for the monorail station at a fast walk, as they were beginning to believe security was tailing them; they had not only broken a ride but ran for it, and then peddled their extra prizes in broad daylight.
The couple had the entire car to themselves, so they lay their belongings on two seats and took only one for themselves, Sydney facing him and straddling Michael's lap. He unabashedly slipped his hands inside her shorts, feeling her bare backside as they shamelessly made out. Between kisses she whispered, "Michael, we can't do anything." When his lips frowned against her neck she added, "You know there's cameras in here, right? To prevent this sort of thing?"
"Damn them. Damn them all to hell," He replied huskily, reclaiming his hands and dropping them to his sides. "Where's a Marshall gadget when you need one? Or a nice pair of wire cutters?"
She merely smiled sadly as she rested her forehead against his.
They made it back to their hotel room without being arrested for public indecency and without spontaneously combusting from lust. As soon as they burst through the door, everything dropped to the floor, and they were all over each other. Despite their escapades in the Magic Kingdom, both were more than primed and ready to go. As Michael tugged at the strings of her bikini top he said, "It's time for me to collect on that bet."
Michael hugged her to him, both of them needing the touch of the other to remain grounded. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, soothing the marks he had made on their wedding night while she drew aimless designs on his chest. When their breathing returned to normal, he glanced down at her hands, then at each bedpost and shredded tie. "What the...?"
"Guess I don't know my own strength," She laughed, still slightly breathless.
Reaching up, one of the scraps of material practically fell apart in his hand. "You owe me two ties," He stated matter-of-factly, throwing the remains across the room in the general direction of the trashcan.
"You owe me another bathing suit," She countered pointedly. They locked gazes and laughed genially.
She untied the other useless restraint as her husband slipped them both under the covers. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and closed his eyes, and they were silent for a time as they reveled in their post-coital bliss. She thought he was asleep, and was about to drift off herself when he whispered, "Four's a nice number."
At first, she thought he was merely talking in his sleep — as she was apt to do — but answered him just in case. "A nice number for what?"
His eyelids fluttered open and he smiled brightly at her. "For kids. Four kids is a nice round number. No middle child, and there's not enough to drive you absolutely insane. I'm thinking two boys and two girls; two singles and one pair of twins."
"I'm glad to see you've got this all figured out," She replied sardonically, one eyebrow and one corner of her mouth rising at the same time. Scooting closer to her husband, she took his hand under the covers and asked sincerely, "Are you sure you want to talk about this how? I didn't mean to start anything today when I pointed out that family."
"It's bound to come up sooner or later, Syd," He answered, propping his head up on his hand. "Why not now?"
"Uh, because I know I'm still reeling from some of the best sex I've ever had."
"Well!" He rolled his eyes, the smile on his face intensifying impossibly. "Just think about it. Please."
She glanced up towards the ceiling as if the answer to his question was written there in the cracks. Children with Michael Vaughn. How could she possibly stop at four? Her favourite pastime during their engagement had been imagining their children; children with his eyes, her dimples, his cleft, her hair, and his disposition; her skills, his loyalty, her sense of humour, his sense of duty, and her stubbornness. Did he know how many possible combinations there were? "Four sounds nice," She answered with a suppressed smile. He embraced her, lips and tongues clashing. She broke them apart to add, "Although, I will not be held responsible for any children created after the fourth; I think they'd be too cute to stop having them."
He chuckled, spooning her and rubbing her bare arms aimlessly. "You never know. Plus, I think Weiss will be disappointed if we don't give him a little niece or nephew for every ruined condom in that box."
She turned in his embrace. "Speaking of which—"
"Birth control until we're comfortably situated and decide it's time."
Smiling, she settled back down, snuggling deeper into his chest. "Now that that's covered, what else do you want to do today? We've got dinner reservations at eight; that gives us a few free hours."
"Whatever shall we do?" He questioned sarcastically, his hand drifting down past her bare midriff.
She flipped them ninety degrees so that she straddled him. "Oh, I think I have a few ideas."
TBC…
Feedback is appreciated!
:D Becky, the Dream Writer 4 Life