Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own any characters or concepts related to The Princess and the Frog. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction.

Oh, geez, I am basically the worst at updating on a schedule. I'm sorry! I actually have a whole set of vignettes finished and pretty much ready for uploading to FFN, I'm just ridiculously forgetful. Again, my sincere apologies to everyone. I am a doofus! That sums it up.

Thank you all very much for your kind words and your patience! I will attempt to update once every other day until such time as I run out of vignettes to post, at which point I will simply have to write more and then, theoretically, remember to crosspost them here. Yes. That is the plan.

This particular vignette is set during the reception for the second wedding.

A Brief Respite

The hallway was dark, the lights dimmed, and when Tiana checked the first door off it, she found the same in the room behind it.

"We ought to be able to hide in here for a bit," she said over her shoulder.

Naveen crowded her, his hands at her waist, the small of her back. In the thin light, his hair gleamed: dark brown, laced with copper, curling along his brow.

"Go, go!" His hands fluttered against her, pushing her on. "Someone is coming!"

She spilled into the room, Naveen fast behind her, and together they fell against the door, rocking it back into its casing. Tiana sucked her lower lip in, and in silence, they waited for the sound of another's tread on the carpet or a voice at the door, calling out for them.

Naveen looked to her. His lips twitched once, then again. He covered them with his hand. "Perhaps we should have been a little more circumspect," he whispered between his fingers. His shoulder brushed her arm when he shifted; his hip, warm and solid, pressed into her side.

"I think we're safe," she said at last.

"Are you certain?" He widened his eyes, so innocent. "How embarrassing it would be, to be caught like this. Two incredibly attractive newlyweds, alone in a dark room..."

She laughed and leaned against him; she fitted herself to his side. "Will you get over here already?"

"Patience is a virtue," he said, primly, "or so I have been told."

Tiana got a handful of his dress jacket, up near his collar. "Stop talking," she said, as she rose up to meet him.

"If I must," he said, and he bent low to accept her kiss. His fingers curled over her hip; his thumb traced the padded ridge of bone.

One by one, she wound her arms about his neck. The hair on his nape, shorn close to the skin, pricked her fingers.

He slipped his hand around her waist, to sweep up the fluid curve of her spine and draw her near, then nearer still. He was so warm, even through his formal uniform, even through her dress. His chest rose against hers and his thigh shifted, brushing her skirt. The muscles in his neck bunched and smoothed beneath her palms: he tipped his head and kissed a long line down her jaw; he breathed something into the hollow of her throat. Her heart beat wild in her chest.

She curled her fingers in his hair.

"Naveen," she said.

Out in the hallway, a door slammed; someone called out and another, too, their voices made indistinct.

"I've had enough of weddings," Naveen said, conversational. He nuzzled the soft juncture where her neck gave way to her shoulder. "Everyone wanting to shake your hand, to wish you luck, always wanting know where you are. No more."

She stroked his nape. "Are you sure about that? We might could fit another one in."

"Two," he said, "is plenty. I intend to never marry again."

"You better not," she said.

She felt his smile against her throat: his lips parting and his teeth pressing, briefly. Tiana slid her hands down low on his nape, her fingers flitting beneath the neck of his uniform.

In the hallway, another call went up: louder this time, and closer.

She drew her hands back. "We should probably get going," she said.

"Yes," Naveen said. He exhaled all in a rush. "Of course. Yes. We should do that." He straightened.

His hair was mussed, loose curls in disarray, and in that dark room, with so little light to see by, his eyes were black, the pupils blown out. His mouth looked very soft and when he licked the corner of it, the tip of his tongue flashing pink, it was wet, too.

Very lightly she touched his jaw.

"Maybe in a moment," she said.

"Astounding," said Naveen as he drew near again. "That is precisely what I was thinking."

This story was originally posted at livejournal on 12/21/2009.

(Jeanniestorm: Well, he can still have a big Christian wedding for Tiana, and then a Muslim ceremony as well, to represent both faiths in the marriage. To be honest, though, I can't imagine Naveen to be an especially devout anything. Why pray when he can party?)