-Question-

Curled beside Kyp in their bed, Jaina lies on her side, watching him. He faces her, and under her scrutiny, he grins. It's a repeat of earlier in the day, in the meadow.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing."

She runs her hand over his bare chest, taking in every detail of him. The freckles on his skin, the long, faint scars that cover his body where they repaired his shattered bones. She's come to know him so much more these last few weeks, little things that only this new intimacy could have told her, even after knowing him so long.

She wonders how she so easily dismissed this thing between them when she was younger. It feels like Kyp is the one person who *gets* her. She doesn't have to explain herself to him, he just knows, always has. Jaina can't recall the last time they actually had a real argument, rather than a spirited discussion. Hapes? she wonders. I think it was Hapes. I argued with Jag nearly every kriffing day.

He catches her hand, brings it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He's gentle at the most surprising times, passionate just when she needs him to be. "I love you."

Jaina smiles, her heart swelling. "I love you. Kyp . . ."

"Mm?"

Her eyes search his face, so familiar and so loved. "Marry me?"

He lets out a disbelieving, surprised laugh. "What?"

"Marry me," she repeats, and she's more certain this time.

Kyp snorts and says, "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you."

"Who cares who asks?" Jaina pushes him to his back and leans over him. "I want to marry you. I should have years ago."

He tangles his fingers in her hair. "Of course I'll marry you, Goddess. I was afraid it was too soon. You haven't even been divorced a year. I didn't want to push."

"We've waited long enough. We're good together, we know that. I don't want to waste more time."

"I agree. Let's get married."

Jaina ducks her head, kissing him. Kyp flips her to her back, peppering her face, neck, and shoulders with kisses, everywhere he can reach that's exposed by the little straps of her pajama top. She laughs, for once feeling completely carefree.

Later, she lies in the dark, his head pillowed on her breast. Kyp snores, and Jaina grins to herself as she runs her hand through his curls. His hair is soft, twisting and turning as it slides between her fingers. She wants a baby with curls like his, she thinks, and it only brings contentment. She'd never properly discussed children with Jag; the idea had always made her feel vaguely anxious. But with Kyp . . .

He'll be a good father. She remembers a little of that month he'd lived with them when she was two, almost three, and how he'd played with her and Jacen, never telling them to go away when she knows they must have been irritating to the teenager. And he's good with Allana, never condescending. The girl is going to be thrilled by this news.

He stirs a little, wrapping his arm tighter around her. Jaina sighs and closes her eyes. Her last thought as she drifts to sleep is that she needs to find a dress now that she's getting married again.