In the Gloaming
By Felicia Ferguson
Author's Note: JoBlaz requested a ShOliver married fic, and while I wanted to wait and see how Martha, Eric, and Kristin would build the relationship after Vows, this little snippet popped into the muse's brain and wormed its way into a ficlet. Ergo, I'm dipping my toe into ShOliver's married life and crossing my fingers it will still fit in the canon "when" we get our renewal news. And just FYI, this one does contain minor suggestive adult themes, but hey, they're married.
Obviously, I own none of the characters, but I do so enjoy the pleasure of telling more of their stories. Y'all enjoy! And Happy Valentine's Day!
Oliver eased awake, awareness rippling through him like a graceful melody, gentle, soothing. His lips flickered into a smile though his eyes remained closed. Yes, he was definitely relaxed. Contentment slipped between his lips on an easy breath as his thumb traced the gold band on his left hand. It was a bit wider than the previous one, but the fit was perfect. As was Shane.
He reached to the other side of the bed. But she was gone. And the fading warmth under the blanket said it had been for a while.
Opening his eyes, he scanned the room. The sun dipped low in the horizon casting pale pinks and lilacs through the window and bathing everything in twilight. Her nightgown, a long, ivory, satin with the tiniest of straps, lay across the side chair where he had draped it hours ago, his dress pants atop it. But still, there was no Shane.
The balcony door stood ajar. His lips lifted.
He pulled on the slacks then padded barefoot to the door, peering through the gap. His breath caught. Shane sat dressed only in his shirt, sleeves rolled up, legs crossed underneath her. Her blond hair, shorter and darker than when they were dating, hung loosely tousled around her shoulders as she toyed with the timepiece pendant around her neck. She stared off into the treelined distance of South Kensington lost in her contemplations.
Shane Shannon McInerney O'Toole. The name quaked through him. His wife. Forever.
Oliver forced breath into his lungs as his eyes roamed the exquisite view before him. He would happily share not only his life with her, but also every dress shirt in his closet. They looked much better on her anyway.
Her fingers slipped the timepiece on the chain, drawing his gaze back to her neck. The delicate skin wore swipes of pink on its perfect alabaster. They were his. Because she was his. Something deep inside him shifted. I will add shaving to my evening ablutions.
##
Shane sat eyes fixed unseeing on the park as it spread out beneath her gaze. Manicured lawns and trimmed hedges lay before her in English perfection. Even the sunset shimmered with all the promises of a spectacular display. Yet, they held no real allure.
The necklace slipped against the scrapes on her skin as she fiddled with her new pendant, and a smile flickered over her lips. She closed her eyes, savoring the memories. She was now well and truly his. Soul-deep peace washed through her.
The air stirred. Her cheeks twitched as she opened her eyes, and her gaze caught on the glint of gold in the twilight. It was once again a simple, golden band. But this time, it was hers. He was hers. Forever.
Her eyes rose, lingering here and there, uncaring that the sun was setting in the most gorgeous of fanfare. This view is much better. As her gaze met his, the full force of her love and adoration for Oliver Joseph Lindley O'Toole flooded her. He suddenly blurred, but she still saw his hand reaching toward her.
Catching it with her own, she rose and melted into his embrace. The faintest hints of roses and blackberries tinged the air between them—her perfume on his skin. She sighed as Oliver drew her deeper into his arms. The sweet strains of strings and woodwinds filtered up from the park. And they eased into a gentle sway to dance under the stars.
*Gloaming: twilight
Kristin has said Shane wears a combination of Jo Malone's fragrances Red Roses and Blackberry & Bay