Just a short one for you all today, but it's a fun little glimpse into what I picture their married life would be like, and you get a bit of Lucas being a Dad too!

Enjoy!

"And they lived happily ever after."

Lucas' voice was barely a whisper as he finished, closing the book slowly. He rose from his chair, careful to not wake the young boy in the bed next to him. As he watched the gentle rise and fall of Little Jack's breathing, he couldn't help but take a moment to think about how lucky he was. Not only had he been granted a life with the woman he loved, but she trusted him enough to help her raise her son as if he were his own.

After leaning down to press a light kiss to Jack's forehead, Lucas whispered an "I love you" before making his way out of the room, the latch of the door clicking shut behind him.

It was already late, so the house was mostly dark, but Lucas was surprised to find a faint light coming from the bottom of the stairs. It wasn't uncommon for him to hear the rhythmic sound of his wife's typewriter late into the evening, but tonight there was only silence, and he would've thought that she would have gone to bed ages ago. Usually, Jack was asleep hours earlier, but after the town movie night at the saloon, he'd been too wound up to go to bed. After a solid hour of trying to convince him that sleeping was more worthwhile than racing around the house for hours on end, Lucas had taken one look at Elizabeth, noting her tired eyes, and had suggested she get some sleep.

She apparently had not taken his suggestion to heart.

Slowly, Lucas descended the stairs. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he made his way down the last few steps, he looked over to find her deep in thought, hand scribbling away at her journal.

To him, she was never more beautiful than in these moments of peace and quiet they shared within the walls of their home. Of course, he'd been captivated by her beauty since the moment they'd met all those years ago, but on nights like this, where the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the gentle features of her face and the soft hair that fell on her shoulders, he knew he must've done something good to deserve a partner like this.

Her eyes met his a moment later and she smiled as he approached. Lucas moved to stand behind her chair, hands automatically beginning to lightly massage her shoulders, but she continued to write.

"What are you up to?" he asked, his thumbs working their way into tight muscles as he leaned over her to see what she was writing.

"Just writing down a new idea I had for my next novel" she responded, her pen still a flurry over the pages of the leatherbound journal he'd gotten her for their anniversary. For all the stories you've yet to write he'd said when he gave it to her. "I'll just be a few more minutes" she told him, but her shoulders relaxed at his touch.

He hummed, leaning down toward her, "that's what you always say." His voice was a whisper against her ear, and he couldn't help but notice that she'd stopped writing.

"Lucas" she responded, her voice a warning he knew she didn't mean. "I had this wonderful idea at the movie and I want to get it written down before I forget it."

"I can help you remember it. You can tell me your idea on our way upstairs. To our bed."

"Or I could finish writing it down now and then meet you in our bed" she returned, determined to not let him win this fight. She resumed her writing, furiously scribbling across the page.

"What can I do to convince you to come with me to our bed now?" he asked, his voice growing low and rough. When she didn't respond, he pulled her hair back from her neck, and when she gasped as his lips found her pulse point, he knew her resolve was already wearing thin.

"Lucas" she cautioned again, although this time his name came out more as a breathy whisper than it did as a warning. Her pen fell against the desk as she brought her hand up to his hair, holding him to her despite the fact that his height made the position awkward.

Soon, however, Lucas shifted his weight, pulling back from her to stand straight once more. Elizabeth was about to protest, her journal forgotten, when he leaned over to turn out the lamp and, in one swift movement, scooped her up into his arms the same way he had on their wedding night, carrying her over the threshold and into their new lives together.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in to kiss him, a giggle escaping her as she did so.

"That didn't take much convincing," he teased.

"I don't really think that was convincing," Elizabeth returned, raising an eyebrow in question, "but since you've successfully distracted me now, what are you going to do about it?"

The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know - that he knew exactly what he was going to do about it.