A/N: Enough of the heavy stuff even if I have loved to write this story. Just one last chapter of mostly fluff to show their life after they have overcome the hardships and can look forward. I hope you found the plot somewhat believable and even if you didn't that you enjoyed them ending up together anyway. I know I always do.

Would have loved John Mayer's 'Slow dancing in a burning room' as the song to this chapter, but as that one is about a break up it simply didn't fit beyond being about dancing. Love it more than the song I picked though.

Chapter 6: Joy

Premonition

See me spendin' every night with you

Under the kitchen lights

You still look like dynamite

And I wanna end up on you

Oh, don't need no place to go

Just put on the radio

You know what I wanna do

We can just dance to this

Dance to this – Ariana Grande/Troye Sivan

There was a period in my life when I did not think I was a cuddly sleeper, but it was for a transient period and in hindsight it probably had to do more with having the wrong company in bed. It is fortunate, because these days I would not have much of a choice, when most nights there are four of us sharing this bed. Sam is the only family member who has the good sense to stay in his own bed, too old and independent to share space with the rest of us. If he did not go to uni here in Bath, he would have his own place already and he is rather dreaming of sharing bed with his girlfriend even if I think the sensible girl has not allowed him to yet.

Nowadays, a normal night starts with Charles and I spooned, as close we can, falling asleep peacefully in the way you only can in the arms of the one you love. Halfway through the night, Lucy usually calls for mum or dad and one of us drowsily go and get her, put her down in the warm space between us where she loves to be and soon she is sound asleep again. Not long afterwards, we are joined by Edward coming tiptoeing and wriggling himself to fit between us too. In the end, Charles and I lie in a V-shape, the children snuggled up between us but as we are unwilling to let each other go, we keep our feet entwined.

I would lie if I say we are fully rested in the morning, because those two little creatures toss and turn, sometimes lie completely across the bed and us, or with their little faces right in our faces, spreading their lovely warmth and special scent of child and taking up unreasonably much space in relation to their actual body size. It does not matter if I'm a bit tired though, because when he smiles at me, saying;

"Good morning, my love" and kisses me so I wish we had the bed to ourselves for a while, I'm the happiest woman in the world. He sees the glimmer in my eyes and whispers;

"Tonight, let's make it an early evening. Please, Mrs. James."

"Only if you change Lucy's diaper", I smirk, already longing to be back in this bed with him.

"Taken... I would have anyway", he gives me a filthy smile in return, reminding me my husband still is the hottest man I have ever known, and no one can make my belly somersault like him. Then he scoops Lucy up and we initiate our well-practiced routine to get everybody ready for the day. Another day in our common, completely ordinary, extraordinarily wonderful life which we both appreciate to the fullest because it nearly did not happen.

I truly had made up my mind that night when I came to him. Decided that I believed in us, wanted to let the past be the past and was willing to take the same risk as he was.

In the morning, we together free the rings from the chain around his neck and put them on one another's fingers. His hands are trembling slightly as he holds mine to put on my ring and then lifts the hand to press my open palm to his lips. His eyes are glossy, and I feel that mine are too and we stay silent, letting them say all that is needed. Our eyes say that we in many ways wish the last three years had never happened and we are sorry for the hurt we have caused each other, but in another way we believe all this has changed us fundamentally so we may be even better together than we were from the start. That we both are endlessly grateful to be here in this moment and realise how fragile happiness is. That the love between us, which always was undeniable in all its unlikeliness, now is rooted in a way it was not before. We belong together, we know that with certainty now.

He runs his fingers through my hair and I can see how he enjoys the silky feeling. He pulls me to him and kisses me deeply.

"You don't know how much I've missed this."

I do, because I have too.

"And this..." He kisses me on the neck and gently nudges me to lie down against the fluffy pillows and I giggle with joy.

"...and this..." Dotting a trail of soft kisses on my shoulder and I close my eyes.

...and this..." His fingers tiptoeing over my skin, linger in awe by the dip of my waist, make circles over my belly, before they continue to the heat between my thighs.

"What if Sam...?"

He smiles, an adorable smile filled with the need to be as close to me as two persons can possibly be.

"I told you, he can stay up all night, but it nearly takes an IED going off next to his ear to wake him in the morning."

As meet his eyes, deep brown, pure love, whilst his fingers now find my core gently yet assertive, I can only arch towards him and moan. Unable to verbalise any further objections when this is all I want.

Allowing ourselves to do this in broad daylight, somehow makes it all even more real. It was not a wonderful dream what happened here this night. It was very real and neither of us will ever want to take it back, we just confirm it again and again with every enticing move, every whispered word of love. The rings on our fingers are only the material proof of what we know to be true deep inside.

"Do you want to let Sam know today? Or do you want to wait?" he asks when we finally become aware of the surroundings outside our bodies again.

"We can tell him, no need to wait out", I smile. I know Sam will be over the moon, his joy over us being back together for real only marginally surpassed by our own so I see no reason to wait now when I know what I want. When we tell him, he proves me right by the joyous shout he lets out, followed by pulling us both into a long, silent group hug.

We have a few more fantastic days in the cottage. Charles and I as glued together as we can be without embarrassing Sam and when we pack up, clean the cottage and lock it one last time I am a little bit sad to leave, but more exciting to explore what is to come next in our once again entwined lives. We came here as an odd trio but leave as a family again. I never dared to hope, but that is how it is.

A few weeks later, I started studying as planned and Charles returned to work. We saw each other as often as we could and adapted our respective homes so the other one would always feel at home, not just like a temporary guest. He kept clothes and favourite books in my flat, I got a whole wardrobe to myself in the house in Bath, a shelf in the bathroom and he asked me to please add some female cosiness in the shape of cushions, blankets, personal trinkets and whatever I wanted.

I was very serious about my studies, determined not to fail and sometime in the beginning I feared he might get impatient with all the hours I put into it even when he was visiting. Instead he supported me and cheered me on. He helped me prepare for exams and then proudly celebrated the successes, the ones that surprised me, but he seemed to have been confident all along would be my reward. He even pushed me to go celebrate with my fellow students when I thought I would stay home with him, telling me he would not want me to miss out the fun when I had all the hard work. Told me I did not have to stay in, because he would be here waiting when I was done. I think he wanted to show me that he was happy to adapt to me, that I never should assume that he expected me to just follow him again or that he would make me chose between him and something else. On those evenings when I did go out to student pubs with friends, I had fun and I was happy, but what made me most happy was to return home to the flat again and find him up waiting or already asleep in my bed and cuddle up with him. He was there. For me. Yet, I was longing more and more for a continuous life with him, one where we would share a home for real again.

It is spring now, a year since Charles and I met again that day in the park. The day when we started to turn everything around and slowly, in winding ways, approached each other again. I do not know what my life would have looked like if I had not taken that step, but I think I still would have been just half a person, getting by but not living life to the fullest. Not like I do now.

I'm 28 now, the age Charles was when we first met each other. Funny, how I thought he was so terribly mature, sophisticated and authoritarian then, even if he sometimes surprised me taking a dip in a paddling pool, nicking my coco puffs or generally arsing around with me. Sometimes he almost feels younger now, but I suppose that is because I know the real him and he does not have the weight of having to be the officer in constant control on his shoulders anymore.

It is Friday and he has come to visit me for the weekend and we joined some of my new-found friends for dinner and beers out, but the need to be alone after two weeks apart makes us go home early. Last weekend he was away on exercise, so it has been unusually long since we were together and I'm desperately in need of him, behind closed doors. This distance relationship is starting to eat on me and I have at least two years of studies to go. Some days I do not know how I shall be able to handle it, but I do not want to give up my dream of becoming a nurse.

Back home, we both change for joggers and t-shirt and cuddle up in the sofa, snogging and chatting. He is in the mood for snacks he says, gets up to find himself a bag of popcorn in a cupboard and put in the microwave oven. He does not ask me if it is okay with me, just helps himself to it because he feel at home here - and I love it. This normality, I feel I want it with him all the time, every day when I get home. I feel it so much it is like an ache in my body. As the popping sounds and smell of the popcorn spread in the room, he notices the dark cloud passing over my face.

"What's the matter?" he asks with concern in his voice and the familiar frown of his brow.

"Nothing really. I just love this. You and me in a sofa, chatting about what has happened during the day, making plans for the weekend, you making popcorn. Maybe I'm greedy but I want more of it – and I don't see how, as long as I'm studying."

He returns to the sofa without waiting for the popcorn to be ready, sits down and holds me close to him. We stay quiet for a while and he keeps holding me and plants a kiss on my head. I feel this strange emotional mix of happiness over what I have right in this moment and sadness that I cannot have it all the time.

"I've been thinking about this too and I have an idea, but I've been hesitant to suggest it because I don't want you to think I take it for granted you would change your life for me."

I look up on him, curious what he has to say.

"I want you to know that if it only was down to me, I would gladly leave Bath, move to you here and commute to work - but I can't until Sam is older. In a few years when he is off to university or travelling or whatever he fancies doing, I'll have more options, but for now I must stay put in Bath. I don't want to leave him to live with Rebecca the whole time. I've missed much time with him already."

I nod, of course I know he can neither uproot Sam, nor desert him. I would never want that either.

"But I've missed much time with you too, at my own doing…and the truth is I want to be with you all the time. The options I can think of are that either we just have to stand this for a few years more and make the best of it, and I think we can even if it's tough - or you could transfer to Bath university."

He says no more, just looks at me to let me take it in decipher my response when I do.

For some reason I have not thought of this option before, my mind set on that where I started my training I would have to continue until it is complete, but he is right – the option is there. Would I want to leave the life I have started here to come live with him and Sam? Change London for Bath, leave my student room for our house, move away from my new-found friends and routines to have breakfast every day with my family and fall asleep in his arms? Would I feel that I lose myself again, changing my life for his sake? The answer is no, I would not feel I lose myself because it would be for our sake and I know he is truthful when he says he would make the move if he did not have Sam to consider. To be honest, the only thing I would miss here would be some friends, but I think that those that are worth keeping in touch with, I will anyway, just like I have done with army mates since I left.

If I move to Bath, I will make the final decision for a life which ours again.

I'm completely ready for that.

He sees my face shift from troubled to light, eager to know my thoughts.

"I haven't thought of that before, that a transfer might be possible."

"I know it can be done but it's a big decision for you to make."

"It's not that big, really. You see, moving in with you and Sam full-time, be able to see you nearly every day… It would feel like coming home. I want that."

"Just like that? Are you sure, I mean I understand if you need to think about it."

His expression one of disbelief and extreme happiness. I put my arms around his neck.

"Are you trying to convince me I shouldn't?"

"No! I just… I don't want you to feel you're moulding your life after me again."

I know my words in the cottage kitchen has stuck with him and we both strive to be a different couple, one in balance who makes joint decision. This time, looking at what we both wish for the most - a normal daily life together - and the possible options, I'm willing to make the change.

"I know that, and I love you for it, but I want to be with you and Sam."

He puts on his mischievous face, tongue in cheek and twinkling eyes.

"Then I won't keep you from it, Dawsey. You're freaking welcome to move in with us."

And so, it happened, that I transferred to Bath that autumn and I did it as Mrs. James after a small ceremony in the summer. As it was the second time, we kept it to only the closest family and friends and I can truthfully not say if I was happiest the first or the second time we said yes to one another. Maybe the second time, because even if I was incredibly happy the first I found it hard to believe it was true and was somehow expecting to wake up from a dream, which I brusquely did in the end. Now I knew it was real and no one would ever be able to take it away from us because we would guard it wisely, together.

I still feel the same now, years later when I'm in addition to being Mrs. James, officer's wife, adored by my husband, also am a qualified nurse, mother of two plus a step-son and, as if that was not enough, dog-owner. Still living in Bath because that is what feels like home to all of us, but in a different house because we outgrew the first one.

This evening when I've picked up the kids I'm completely knackered and when I put the key in the door I'm thinking it is more likely I will fall asleep next to the kids when putting them to bed than having that hot alone time with my husband that I have longed for and promised him this morning. However, as we open the door we are met by amazing smells from the kitchen and Charles comes to meet us with a big smile for all, hugs for the kids and a deep kiss for me, showing he has not forgotten what I traded for Lucy's diaper change.

"I finished work early today", he smiles. "As the unromantic woman you so stubbornly claim to be, I'm sure you don't remember what day it is."

He is right, I do not, and I quickly flip through the rolodex of my mind. We got back together in summer, we got married for the second time the following summer, we moved together in Bath in the autumn and it is none of our birthdays. I really cannot figure out what this grey February day is because it is none of our anniversaries.

He watches my face with amusement as I'm thinking intensively.

"Christ Molly, how is it even possible to miss it is Valentine's day?"

Ah, I might have seen a heart-shaped balloon somewhere at the hospital even if decorations generally are prohibited there, and maybe unusually many patients had flowers in their rooms come to think of it. Valentine's day explains it.

"Luckily, I remembered for both of us", he smirks.

He is right, he is the more romantic of the two of us but even if I'm not that good at it, I love it and I feel my face turn into one big smile.

"I'm preparing fishfingers and mash for the kids. You go and have bath and then we'll have dinner just you and I when we have put them to bed. Sound like a plan?"

"It does", I smile and kiss him again.

"Try not to fall asleep in the bath tub and drown", he shouts after me as I walk up the stairs. "That would make me very sad, on Valentine's day and all – you'd ruin it for me forever."

He did not need to worry. Even if I was tired when I got home, I'm looking forward to dinner with him too much now to fall asleep. I just let myself relax in the hot, foamed, perfumed water for a while, letting happiness seep through my body.

By the time I return downstairs, the kids have eaten and are already in pyjamas. I do not know what it is about kids in pyjamas, they are just extra adorable in a way that makes me never want to part from them. Maybe that is the thing, that when they are in pyjamas I know I will soon be saying goodbye to them for the night, or well, in our case for a few hours.

"Don't look at them like that."

"Like what?"

"With loving puppy eyes like you won't be able to leave them in bed."

I laugh because he reads me so well.

"Can you blame me? The best of me and you combined in these two. I love them tobits."

Both dark-haired, one with straight hair and brown eyes, one with curly hair and green eyes. Edward often talking without filter, like I used to do, Lucy calmer, taking the world in but not always verbalising her thoughts. I suppose she would be a bit previous if she did as she only is two, but I still have the feeling that she will be more like Charles.

"Of course, I can't, they're perfect and I love them to the moon and back, but tonight they won't have you. You're mine.", he says with a mischievous grin. I feel a surge through my body, suddenly longing for them to be asleep. Longing for him alone.

All four of us go upstairs for their bedtime story. I snuggle up with Edward, Charles with Lucy and he reads. Will I ever grow tired of hearing his well-articulated dark voice no matter what words come over his lips? I do not think so. The voice that once upon a time only spoke commands to me, now reading Peter Rabbit and I just enjoy the rhythm and soft sound without actually hearing the words, wondering if it is possible to be in love with a voice. If the rest of him was not there, I think I might still love only the voice.

"Hey, where are you?" He nudges me, the kids have fallen asleep.

"I was listening to you."

"Yeah, right. I stopped reading five minutes ago. Someone was lost." He smiles and holds out his hands to pull me up from the bed, so I'm for a thrilling moment pressed to the hard planes of his body, receiving an intensive kiss before he pulls me downstairs again.

Down in the kitchen, he has set the table, prepared with candles which he now lights and gives the finishing touches to the meal.

"It's Elvis' favourite recipe", he says. "The one he once shared with me in confidence and promised me it would floor any lady I made it for. Obviously, I never made it for anyone but you and I thought it was fitting today", he grins.

It always makes me happy to see that these days he is able to think and speak of Elvis with fondness and warmth without being overwhelmed by grief and guilt. Of course, he will always grieve Elvis, but he will never again let that overshadow his own life to the extent that he cannot live it. He knows that is not what Elvis would have wanted. Elvis stays with him, but now in a good way, just like when he lived reminding Charles to take life less seriously.

"Is that the one called something with putanesca?"

He throws his head back in laughter.

"Good guess, but it's the risotto with white truffles."

"Oh, that is good. I think Elvis may have been right, someone's getting lucky tonight."

With his face filled with utter happiness and contentment, he pours two glasses of red wine, but he leaves them standing on the worktop. Instead he comes over to me and holds out his hand.

"Dance with me."

"There's no music in case you didn't notice."

I try to escape because I've always been crap at all sorts of couple dancing because I find it hard to smoothly follow and let the man take the lead.

"Let the music be in your head. I just want to be close to you, Molly, dance with you for a little while here under the kitchen light. Like I know I want to for the rest of our lives."

"Even when I'm old and wrinkly? Will you still love me and want to dance with me then?"

"I know you'll be just as beautiful to me when you're old and wrinkly and that there's no place I'd rather be than with you, wherever that is. If it is in our kitchen, dancing, I'm perfectly happy."

As I know that I will be, so I let him pull me into his arms for a dance, find that his body follows mine just as much as I follow his when I melt into him – and as he places his lips to mine I can actually hear the music in my head.

I have everything I ever wanted, and I know he does too.

A/N: That was the end of it even if I never like to write the final chapter of a story because it feels a bit empty afterwards. I would love if you let me know what you think of my take on post-season 4, if you haven't already. Thanks for all reviews given during the way!

x

All my completed stories are also to be found in a more reader friendly e-book format on misspionyff wordpress com (replace spaces with .) With this one I will try to include the music too as it has been important to me during the writing process.

I'm on Twitter under my pen name MissPiony if you wish to follow for story alerts or just say hi.