A/N: Well, my 21st birthday (Aug. 12) is in half an hour, so I decided to give myself an early b-day present...by posting a chapter! Woo! See how awsome I am? I share my b-day gift with the world! Go me! (I'm actually posting now because I'm not going to be around for the next few days...one including me and my friends getting "wasted shit face-ted" as we like to call it [yeah, I just typed that phonetically, so y'all should be happy.)

"Everything okay?" Bridgette asked.

"Yeah, we're good," I answered, forcing a smile.

"All right. Have a seat. Dinner's just about ready," she said.

Rich and I sat in the two open chairs as Dave poured us two glasses of the wine we brought. A timer went off and Bridgette got up, going over to the oven.

"Bridge, you want any help?" I offered.

"No, I'm fine, just stay there," she said.

I kept an eye on her as she took some sort of roast out of the oven, and also took something off the stove.

"Did you know that it's snowing?" Rich asked, making conversation.

"Is it? I wonder how long it'll stick around this time," Bridgette said.

"It's snowed here a few times this year, but none of it has really stuck to the ground. And we're looking forward to going skiing soon," Dave explained, then took a sip of wine.

"We had snow back home earlier in the week. About six inches or so, and we had a snowball fight, James and I against Rich, who won by cheating," I said, grinning at my husband.

"I didn't cheat. I can't help you're gullible," he defended.

"When you fake being hurt after I hit you in the face that counts as cheating. Doesn't it?" I asked, looking over at Dave.

"Yeah, I would say it does," he answered.

"Fine, fine. I'll win fairly next time, okay?" Rich said, putting his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

Bridgette then brought over plates of food, two at a time. I found that I was right: we were having something roasted, a chicken. I guess it helps to have a father who was a chef...both parents were chefs, actually (how I became a pilot and my brother an artist, I'll never know).

We made small talk all through dinner and dessert (which was a delicious Black Forest cake that Bridgette had made earlier), just to catch up on things with each other. We talked about James at one point...well, Rich did since that would just add to my list of things to make me sick.

After we ate, I helped Bridgette with the dishes, then the four of us moved from the kitchen to a small living room, where we polished off the rest of the wine...more like Dave polished off the bottle. Because of my headache, I only had a glass and a half, but Dave seemed to really like it and I told him so.

"Jeez, Dave. If you like the wine so much, we'll have to send you some more," I said, smirking at him.

"Would you? It's really good," he slurred slightly.

I never would have thought he was a lightweight drunk...

"And have you drunk almost every day after drinking a bottle? I don't think so," Bridgette said, leaning against her husband. "But I will agree. It is very good."

"I guess it was a good choice, Rich," I grinned, looking up at him, from where I sat on the floor in front of him. He was massaging my back and shoulders, and it certainly felt good, but I still had that damn headache.

Rich nodded while grinning.

"Maybe we'll send them a bottle or two anyway," he said loud enough for Bridgette to hear.

She did hear, but just rolled her eyes with a smirk.

I glanced at the wooden clock on the wall; it only read ten o'clock, but my head was killing me. I thought that maybe after some sleep, I would feel better.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to head off to bed. I have a large headache that's making me feel like my head is going to explode," I said, getting off the floor.

"No problem. We plan on showing you two around Berlin tomorrow," Bridgette said, picking her head up off Dave's shoulder.

"Sounds good," I said, smiling. "Guten Nacht." I said, looking at Dave and Bridgette, then turned back to Rich, leaning down and kissing him. "Night, Captain," I whispered.

"Night," he replied.

I then walked out of the room, down the hall, and up the stairs to the room we were staying in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pulled my pajamas out of my bag. Sighing, I brought a hand up to my head, then stood and changed. A moment after pulling the camisole over my head, the door opened and Rich walked in.

"What's up?" I asked, sitting back on the edge of the bed.

"I just came to check on you," he said, sitting next to me. "How's your stomach?"

"A little better. I think if I sleep, I'll be okay," I answered.

He put his arm around my shoulders and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"God, my head," I moaned, pulling my legs up onto the bed, and putting a hand on my forehead again.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" he asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. You don't have to fuss over me."

"Yes I do. You're my wife; I'm allowed to."

I grinned, even though he couldn't see it.

"Go back downstairs with Dave and Bridgette. Chat for a while," I said, putting my chin on his shoulder, looking at him.

"What about you?" he asked, turning his head to me.

"I'll be fine. I'll probably be asleep soon, anyway," I shrugged.

He refused to get up and go.

"Please, Rich. Go back down for at least an hour," I said, kissing him. "I need peace anyway," I whispered with a grin.

Rich opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.

"Just go."

I took my head off his shoulder and took his arm away from me, then crawled under the covers. Rich got off the bed, but leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss.

"I'll be back in an hour," he said, softly.

I nodded, then closed my eyes briefly, before opening them to make sure Rich left the room. As he opened the door, he turned off the light with another look back to me.

"Go, Rich," I told him.

I heard him sigh as he closed the door, then I snuggled back into the covers. The sheets were amazingly soft, so I made a mental note to ask Bridgette about them the next day; the quilt was very warm also, and had to suspect that it was filled with down feathers...since it was poking me every once in a while.

When I was settled, I pulled the quilt up over my head and took a deep breath, closing my eyes. As I attempted to sleep, I ended up thinking about James, and hoping that he was sleeping all right with no nightmares.

About forty-five minutes later, I heard footsteps out in the hall, and I took the quilt away from my eyes. The door to the room opened and Rich came in, closing the door quickly behind him; he then turned on the light.

"I knew you wouldn't last an hour," I muttered loud enough for him to hear, then pulled the quilt back over my head.

"Dave and Bridgette are going to bed, too. Don't be so quick to celebrate," he said as I heard him going through his bag.

I pulled the quilt away from my head and looked towards him.

"That doesn't sound like them."

"Well, Dave's a little more drunk than we thought," he responded, looking at me.

As if on cue, I heard stomping down the hall as Dave hummed '99 Luftballoons' with Bridgette trying to keep him quiet.

I started laughing as they passed by the room.

"Did he do anything embarrassing? Like put a lampshade on his head or something like that?" I asked, through my laughter.

"No lampshade, but he was singing some German songs," Rich answered with a laugh, as he pulled out his pajama pants.

"I would have loved to see that," I smirked, watching Rich as he changed.

Once Rich was changed, he went back over to turn off the light, then slowly made his way back to the bed.

"Careful you don't stub another toe," I warned, sniggering.

"Very funny," he grumbled.

When he hit my side of the bed, he hopped up, and just crawled over me to get on the other side.

"That's cheating," I complained, as he got under the blankets.

"You should know by now that I like to cheat," he replied, moving closer to me.

"I should, shouldn't I?" I said, turning on my side to face him.

He hummed a response as he slid an arm under my neck, then put the other over my waist, and pulled me into him. To top it off, he slung a leg over both of mine, then kissed me. My arms got stuck in between our bodies, but I managed to break one free, and rest it on Rich's hip (since that was the only part of him I could reach).

I fell into a deep sleep not long after, willing my headache to go away.

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Waking up the next morning, I felt my headache had dissipated, along with my stomachache. I also felt Rich's arms were still around me. Grinning to myself, I snuggled closer to him without trying to wake him...didn't work though.

"Don't want...get up," he grumbled with the only words I could decipher, not even opening his eyes.

"Me either. Not yet anyway," I agreed. "Dave and Bridge can wait."

"Good," he said, then tightened his arms around me.

I was able to move my hand from Rich's hip to his back; I rubbed his back as he fell back asleep.

About an hour and a half later, Rich woke up again. Disentangling ourselves from each other, we got out of bed, and got dressed.

"How's your head today?" Rich asked me as he pulled a T-shirt over his head.

"Better. Doesn't hurt anymore, so I guess sleep helped," I answered with a grin, pulling on a pair of socks.

"That's good to hear," he said, then crossed the room, and kissed me.

"Come on. Get some pants on so we don't have to make them wait much longer," I said, only then noticing that Rich had yet to change out of his pajama pants.

Once he was finally completely dressed, we left the room and headed downstairs to the kitchen, where we found Dave and Bridgette drinking coffee and just starting breakfast.

"Well, guten Morgen. It's about time you two got up," Bridgette said, a little louder than was really necessary, but then I looked over at Dave and saw him flinch. He was definitely hung-over.

"Guten Morgen. We didn't want to get up this morning," I said, softly, feeling pity for Dave.

"Would you like some coffee or breakfast?" Bridgette asked us as we sat down at the table, then added: "Or tea?"

Rich smiled with a chuckle. "Tea would be great, thanks. And breakfast."

"Coffee and breakfast for me, thanks," I said. "Do you want any help?"

"Since I denied you last night, I guess you can help now," she said, getting up from her chair. "Besides, I have no idea how Rich, the Englishman, likes his tea." She looked at Rich with a teasing smirk.

I laughed as I got up to help her.

"How's your headache?" Dave asked me.

"Gone. How's yours?" I countered, smirking.

He grumbled something incoherent, then put his head in his hands. I saw Rich lean towards him and give him something with a whisper. Dave looked grateful, so I had to guess that Rich slipped him an Advil or two.

After we all finished breakfast (and Dave's hangover was disappearing), Dave and Bridgette showed us around Berlin for the day. They took us to Alexanderplatz, the Tiergarten, Checkpoint Charlie, and a few museums in the area.

Rich and I still had to get something for James, so while we were in Alexanderplatz, we went into one of the department stores. In the toy section, we found a new game he might like and another boat for his bathtub fleet.

At the end of the day, the four of us returned to Dave and Bridgette's house, where we had another excellent dinner made by Bridgette.

The next two days were relatively quiet. We left the house occasionally, but not much.

On the night of our last day in Germany, Dave and Bridgette drove us back to the airport so we could make our flight to New York. On our way to the airport, it started to snow, again, and it was coming down harder than was good for flight. Once in the airport, we said our good-byes to Dave and Bridgette.

"You should come visit us at some point and meet James. I'm sure he'd like to meet you guys," I said as Bridgette and I hugged.

"We will...some day," she answered.

When we pulled back, we smiled at each other, then went to the other's husband. I gave Dave a hug (as best I could since he was so tall).

"We'll send you some more wine if you promise not to drink a whole bottle in one day. I heard what you did last night," I grinned, as we pulled away.

I saw a blush rise to his cheeks as he answered.

"I promise I won't get drunk every night off a bottle of that delicious, English wine," he said, then looked over to Bridgette to make sure she heard him.

"I'll keep you to that, hun," she said.

Rich and I laughed slightly at the look on Dave's face.

"It was good to see you two again. I hope you had a good time here," Bridgette continued as she stood next to Dave.

The two made such an unusual pair if you were just to look at them. Because of Dave's height, he made Bridgette seem like a child. But the two had such great personalities and were alike in almost every other way, they made the perfect couple.

"We had a wonderful time. When you come to us, we'll make sure your stay is better," Rich said.

I had to hold back a laugh...he said it so professionally, it was kind of funny.

"All right, as much as I don't exactly want to, we have to go. It's a big plane to make sure everything is how it should be," I said.

"Okay, keep in touch. And when you can, send us an e-mail to let us know you got home safe," Dave said.

"We will," Rich answered as we started walking away.

Turning around slightly, I waved at them. As they waved back, I saw Bridgette put her head on Dave's chest, since she couldn't reach his shoulder. When I turned back, I took Rich's free hand in my own free hand as we walked to the plane.

A/N: There ya go! How 'bout letting know what you think? Please?

Now, I'm off to snoop for presents...