A/N: Requested as "the first time April cries in front of Andy."
Let's pretend she didn't cry at Natalie's speech in 3x09 for this to make sense for the prompt. I wanted a happy cry, dammit!
It's so dumb and them, but April can't help herself. She's married to this tall goofball now, and she really likes how that sounds. Her husband. Andy Dwyer – married to April Ludgate; her. He's married to her now. He's her freaking husband. And, really, she can't help herself when – obviously, after everyone's left because there's no way in hell anyone other than Andy will know she has this kind of emotion – she cries.
It's stupid. She knows it, and he should know it, but she's so damn happy that it's hard to hold them in. Andy clears away some of his instruments when he sees her sitting there, in front of the little space where they were standing just moments ago – repeating vows to each other and promising so many things. Things she wasn't sure she could promise, but for Andy she'd try.
He walks over and notices her wiping at her face with the knuckle of her thumb, staring down at the carpet and chuckling.
"Babe…" he stands there, almost like he's in shock and has no idea what to do.
"What?" she looks up and asks him, because damn everything there's some streaming down her face and it's all heat and tears and she's so fucking happy.
"Are you okay?" he asks her, real worry all over his face.
"Yeah."
"But you're… um, you're, y'know, uh…" he makes lines down his face with his fingers and she laughs. "You're um, yeah."
"I know, Andy," she stands up and sniffs loudly, and tries to memorize what it feels like to look at him right then.
He's her husband, and she's never been happier to do anything in her life. Yeah, it was just a dumb title and a tax thing, really, but it symbolizes something she loves about him. He's loyal. Though she had her doubts, and worries, Andy was the symbol of loyalty in love for her life, and she further wanted to prove to him – no matter what he said, she still had to – that she was his. Nothing gross, just that their love meant something and they wanted it to mean something to more than just them.
So she tries to capture that feeling.
It's a lot like the first day of summer when the waters of a lake warm up. You love that lake, and you love the cool and relaxing juxtaposition against your skin and the heat of the sun still beating down on you. It's like being caught up in that moment when you know that everything right then and there is going to be comfortable, and fun, and different. Andy was that, and she wanted to extend that first day into a second and ten more, and thousands more until they were old and gray and gross together.
April wants to capture that, how it feels to kiss him on that first summer day when the lake is cold but warm enough to dip into. He's loving, and he's comfort, and he's fun. April never thought she'd want this, but he's different – he makes her want to be all those things, and to change because it makes her better, and to be the same person but different. Still April, but better, and Andy makes her want to be like that because she wants him to be like that and realize his potential.
April wants to capture that feeling, hold onto it, and never let go.
"So, what's wrong?" he asks her, walking forward. "Are you okay? Do you need, like… I can go get you stuff, if it's y'know-"
"Gross," she slaps his arm and Andy laughs.
"Are you… um, is it about us?"
"Yes," she answers without thinking.
"Oh," he looks down, happiness drained from his eyes.
April wipes at her face once more and slaps his arm again. "No, you dork," she laughs. "This isn't a sad cry."
"Oh," he looks back up, everything she loves about him still there. "Really?"
"Totally," she chuckles and walks forward, putting her arms around his waist. "This is… I'm happy."
"Awesome," he mumbles, kissing the top of her head.
"I am, y'know? I'm really… happy," she sighs, and it's the first one in years that isn't ironic or annoyed. It's a sigh of contentment. "I love you."
"Love you too," he responds, leaning down to kiss her again.
April wants to know what this feeling is like ten, twenty years from now. Fifty, even. She wants to know if it's still cool waters and sunshine, and knowing Andy and her it will always be that: cool waters, sunshine, and love.