A/N Very short one before bed - that's bed for me, not them!
"You are able…now" The priest nodded his head at them.
Harry and Ruth looked at him slightly baffled.
Not knowing what else to do they nodded back.
The priest stopped nodding.
"You are able to…."
They looked.
"To kiss."
"Ahhh," said Harry and Ruth in a joint burst of comprehension.
"I may kiss the bride," said Harry, looking at Ruth.
"Quite so," said the priest relieved to have been reminded of the English phrase he always struggled with. However as he looked on they still had not kissed.
"Maintenant," he suggested.
Harry had waited a long time, he wasn't going to be rushed.
In a beautiful reversal of their last kiss, he took Ruth's face in his hands, cradled it lovingly, and lost himself in her deep blue eyes, knowing he need never again have to resurface.
And then he kissed her.
Relieved, the priest nodded at his assistant and a moment later Beethoven's Ode to Joy burst forth, resonating around the church.
Lucas stood smiling.
The elderly lady, his fellow witness grabbed him, pulling him to her and kissing both his cheeks with a cheery smile.
Harry and Ruth finally untangled themselves and stood gazing at each other.
"Is this coincidence too, Harry?" asked Ruth referring to the music.
"No, Ruth," he said and smiled and began walking her back down the aisle.
"Felicitations, Madame" beamed the old lady kissing Ruth and then Harry.
As they walked on towards the church door Harry wiped his eyes.
The gesture was not lost on Ruth, "Harry?"
"It's just a draft, Ruth."
She nodded and gripped his hand tighter.
"Of course it is."