Doing the wedding of two beloved characters is always one of the things I look forward to, and this is no exception. :) Herbert and Heather finally get married, and it's nothing short of bliss...but we all know their happiness will be short-lived.

Chapter Nineteen

Wedding Nightmare

Night had fallen on the night which had finally arrived. Her heart was thundering loud in her chest as Francesca helped her into the soft, antique lace dress. It settled on her skin like soft rain when she thought it would itch, but instead, the near-silky smoothness caught her off-guard altogether. It didn't scratch then, so why would it now?

But it was her. It made her feel like herself. Her sanity might be in question, but it didn't change her as a whole person.

Francesca was already in her soft blue-violet lace dress that graced every curve of her body, and the blinding diamond necklace from Dan on their anniversary. She was smiling now, doing her best to ignore the problems at the present and focus on making this next-to-last night the best it could be. "Are you still nervous?" she asked as she finished the last of the buttons at the back of the dress. They were in her and Herbert's room, where Francesca had helped her set up the rose petals in the tub as well as the candles around the rim, yet to be lit up until they got back. Heather had planned for herself to run the water, with so many ideas of how she and Herbert would spend their wedding night tonight, making it last while they could. Thinking of this night they would marry and then consummate made her even more nervous than she was now, but so was Herbert. Francesca fixing her hair brought her out of her thoughts.

"Francesca, I know being bound to one person lasts until death, but there are times of divorce –" she started only to be cut off by a little tap on the shoulder.

"Oh, stop right there." Francesca laughed and shook her head as she picked up a nice bird cage veil to complete the vintage look. "Divorce won't even be remotely possible if you know one hundred and ten percent that this will last until death." She paused there. "But a lot can happen as time goes on. The body and personality change, or maybe not, and as that happens, the heated passion you two share can cool down."

Heather didn't want to think about that stuff; the young girl still inside her wanted nothing more than hot love to last, but of course she could handle the times she and Herbert would disagree. "But how can the spark be kept alive?" she asked. She turned around to face the woman who acted like a mother to her when the relationship between herself and her own was destroyed.

Francesca smiled and brought her hand to cup her chin. "Dan and I made it work this way so far, and we're stronger than ever. Every marriage has plenty of smooth and rocky roads. But whenever children come along, it doesn't mean you should stop being husband and wife. When it comes to young ones in the house, you might not be able to have candlelight or scattered rose petals like this." She nodded for the ones she'd snuck out to grab from the nearest floral shop she could. "He comes home to you and the children every day as the perfect way to end it, and you ask him how his day went. Interacting keeps it vibrant and happy. But above all, a husband and wife deserve to know how important they are to each other as much as their children. There is always room for each other if not every living minute of the day, but don't ever wait too long! No secrets as well as no distance are the ways to keep the spark alive, making it paid off."

She wasn't sure when she started crying, but Heather was glad she didn't wear any makeup; it was too fake, and her lips were naturally rosy and so soft she didn't need gloss or colored sticks. So being married shouldn't change who you really are, but it does require a lot of work, she recited. "It doesn't have to be roses and jewels, it doesn't have to be all work," she croaked, "but it's the two of us that matter the most."

"That's right!" Francesca's arms wrapped her in a nearly suffocating hold that she let out the flood. "Oh, come now, it's your wedding. You have plenty more time to cry when you take your vows, like I did," she assured the younger woman, releasing her. "Now take a look at yourself and see the bride you are now...and the woman you've grown into."

Heather's breath caught in her throat.

Her chest was showed a little if not in the overwhelming curvaceous way models would show on Cover Girl or Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. The antique ivory lace on gold complemented her skin, the crystals at the neck glittering, and the sleeves not even bothering her arms. Her hair ran free with the bird cage accented with bejeweled silk flowers, her favorite ring on her right hand and Herbert's mother's on her other. The pearls in her ears and around her neck and left wrist were kept in a minimum yet sophisticated. I'm getting married, she realized with a shimmer of hope as Francesca's words of wisdom and Herbert's to her the night before rang true.

He's right. I chose this life. We all make our own destiny, and I chose this life with him. It's too late to turn back now; we're bound to each other for life.

"And one more," Francesca added, handing her the final touch: a bouquet of lily-of-the-valley and baby's breath. "I made it myself."

Heather inhaled the spicy and sweet blossoms. "Beautiful," she breathed.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded. "I'm ready."

~o~

So they were still married outside the courthouse, but it was farther away from the actual building and at the actual setting she'd wanted. The grand Boston Courthouse was beside a vast pond, surrounded by exquisite trees and wildflowers like those in the soft locks of his bride. But none of it was more picture perfect than she was; Herbert was unable to take his eyes off her the whole time they arrived.

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding," Dan had joked as he drove them to the location. "But we know you guys don't believe in that stuff."

"Of course I don't believe in wedding superstitious nonsense," Herbert had replied, then turning his attention to Heather's beautiful face, trailing down her form in the dress which took his breath away and not in the street-hooker way some brides would nowadays. No, she's perfect. She's gone from the girl I remember to the woman she is now. And she's mine. Then down to mostly pay his attention to the blue and green gems adorning her finger. "But I do believe in 'something old, something borrowed, something blue,'" he said to Dan at last.

"We weren't allowed to see each other before the ceremony," Dan had said, turning his attention briefly to his wife beside him, who returned a lopsided grin. "In Italy, the tradition of bad luck in that way still continues."

Herbert didn't care so much for bad luck, never believing in that said nonsense. But he did believe in this binding of two people who truly loved each other. By the time the car stopped before the serene landscape, there was not a soul in sight or even the sound of crickets, night birds and the likes. The flowers about perfumed his nostrils as he guided his bride ahead for them to stand before the edge of the water and faced each other. The other three before them watched on with smiles of apprehension as there was no priest to bless them, just the two of them taking their vows so that it was all the more intimate. His skin tingled with the heat of anticipation as this was finally it. He looked down into her eyes when she spoke to him, her words honest and softer than the silence around them.

"Herbert, I knew we were meant to be despite all the obstacles around us, and despite any more problems we'll have in the future. As a little girl, I believed in the fairytales and finding my own Prince Charming, but I have more than just that. I have a man who says 'go to hell' –" He couldn't help but laugh with the family behind them at that, and the little one pointed out once again that she said a bad word; she continued, undaunted. "– to the faces of those who tried to stop him. He knows he's right, and he hasn't stopped. And that's what I love about you, Herbert West. I love you more than anything and want to spend my life following you, and traveling the world so we can show them we broke death's barriers."

His heart was thundering so loud he could actually hear it. He held his breath for a moment; he had never fully prepared for a speech – or rather, vow – like this, but she'd spoken from the depths of the heart, and he would do the same. "Heather, never in my life did I dream of finding someone like you, who shared my dreams and ideals, and who remained by my side in spite of everything. This is why I love you: because you are as brilliant as I." She giggled at his words. "You're fiery and resistant, determined, and you've been a great student as you're a great doctor now. Years ago, I saw you as a seemingly innocent child who picked up my last sample of my formula, and little did I know you would emerge as the amazing woman you have become. Heather Phillips, I'm proud of you and I love you because of your impressive strength to overcome any obstacles with me, and I hope you continue to do so with me in more time to come." He'd taken both her hands into his when he finished; wait, he felt something wet on his face.

Bringing his hand up to remove his glasses as well as another to his eyes, he saw a clear, wet tear. Damn it, I'm crying in front of her. Why am I crying? I have never cried in my life! But she smiled and let one hand go of her bouquet and swiped the rest of his tears the way off before taking his hand into hers. "That was beautiful," she whispered to him.

He smiled down at her, putting his glasses back on his eyes, his confidence returning as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket for the rings. Taking her smaller hand into his as well as placing the dainty silver band with its companion, he spoke, "With this ring, I take you as my wife." He handed her his, trepidation now ignited in his veins when she placed it on his finger; it felt strange and surreal, but the rush through his body was the best feeling he'd ever had in his life.

"With this ring," she answered, "I take you as my husband."

Time to kiss my beautiful bride. With no need to say the words aloud, Herbert laughed with joy and swept her into his arms, kissing her long and heatedly in front of their friends who clapped for them, little Adrian shrieking until his parents hushed him out of fear of them getting attention. Herbert held his new wife close to him, wishing he would never let her go, but he was forced to so they could go back to join their friends and head back to the motel. They would continue there. Heat arose in his system once more, and the thought exhilarated him: I'm married; I'm MARRIED.

Now that they were officially husband and wife – Dr. and Mrs. Herbert West, rather Dr. and Dr. West, which made him laugh – Herbert thought this, too, as he held her close in the backseat beside little Adrian, keeping all intimate motions like passionate kissing to themselves only for the sake of the child: We're finally going to take it to the next level. The motel clerk grunted a "happy" greeting to the newlyweds, but Herbert paid him no mind. When they got into the hallway, they bade good night to Dan and the family; he did not miss the amused twinkle in his and Francesca's eyes, and Adrian was too young to know about these things.

After unlocking the door, Herbert felt like he owed his new bride the honors of picking her up the same way he'd seen other brides be picked up, one arm behind her back and the other behind her knees. She burst out into a fit of hysterical giggles, which told him that no man had ever done this for her, that he was her first as much as he was her first love, her first husband, and her last. It made all the difference in the world.

He set her down and began to kiss her more, the fire burning hotter than before. They might not have had the small reception at the courthouse ballroom, at one of the tables with the centerpieces filled with exquisite white flowers that Heather wanted, but this would be enough for the both of them. A lavish celebration means nothing more to me than this woman right here, he thought as he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her closer to him. "Mmmm..." he murmured against her mouth as he began to undo the buttons of the back of her dress, exposing her smooth, small back to his touch and making her shiver in his arms.

She pulled away, and he frowned. Then she began to remove her veil and her jewelry, walking over to put them away in one of her bags, in a small wooden jewelry box she'd brought with her, then returned to him with a languid look in her eyes. Herbert was about to take her back into his embrace again when she walked past him and for the tub which was filled with still-fresh, scattered rose petals and surrounded with candles. Romantic gestures were never his forte either, but this wonderful night had to be at its best. Herbert kept his eyes not on those little items, instead on the exposed back of his bride as she started the water on heat but not scorching, then proceeded to light up the candles which instantly filled the air with a radiant aroma of cherry blossoms, a subtle note of red fruits, and a soft hint of sandalwood. Either way, his sex drive was on the run and couldn't wait any longer.

He snuck up behind Heather and wrapped his arms around her waist; she stiffened but leaned her head back against his shoulder, moaning. "So, are we going to do the bath first or have our time beforehand?" He nibbled the sensitive skin of her neck, and she squeaked delightfully. Chuckling, Herbert continued until she surprised him by taking her dress by the sleeves and pulling it down, the top sliding off to show she didn't wear a bra, so her breasts were finally revealed to him. His breath hitched when he saw two small pairs of curvaceous, unblemished, creamy skin with the soft pink buds hardening like pebbles. Herbert's hand moved from her waist and ghosted over her arm in that path until it came to rest underneath her right breast, caressing it and causing the reaction he'd hoped for; her eyes closed as she moaned to his touch. He moved upward to gently cup it at the front, the nipple pressing against his palm, its partner following suit and begging for his other hand which soon joined. Heather's hands came up to place themselves over his, not wanting him to let go, her breathing becoming labored.

"Herbert..."

"Mmm?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"Please...I want to see you..."

He let her go, her moan of disappointment at the loss of contact on her breasts music to his ears because it excited him that she wanted more. Herbert shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, not caring about it getting wrinkled, before reaching to pull his tie out of its knot and dropped it, kneeling down afterwards to work on his shoes and socks, all the while watching as Heather shed the rest of her dress the way off – and showed that not only did she not wear a bra, but she wore no underwear. Standing up, Herbert drank in her natural beauty from her impressive breasts to her hourglass waist and finally the soft blonde curls between her toned thighs. He licked his lips while he loosened his belt and worked on the button and zipper of his trousers, removing the last of his clothing slower than she; she'd seen him naked before, but now he would be fully exposed, and part of him was nervous like the young man he'd been who was afraid a girlfriend would distract him from the important matter at hand.

She sensed his hesitation and walked up to him, pushing the rest of the clothing the way off so they were equally bare. Heatwaves surrounded them both, Herbert's body shivering under her touch when Heather's hands explored his chest and shoulders, then his back and over his firm buttocks, back over his hips and stopping there to lean up and kiss him briefly before continuing. Herbert moaned when she caressed his abdomen and navel, traced the dark line of his happy trail which lead downwards and stopped right above his pubic hair and member, erect and flushed with heated blood, begging to be relieved. But Heather ignored his hardness and instead focused on his chest, licking and kissing his collarbone before focusing her attention on both of his nipples, briefly suckling and making him suck in a gasp of surprise. She certainly knows what she's doing for a twenty-four-year-old virgin, he thought, amused. But then again, so do I, at forty-three.

She stopped and took both his hands in hers and tugged in the direction of the tub, where the rose petals made it even more delectable. Herbert was in first and then allowed her to follow and perch on top of him, snuggling closer so her hair was tossed over his shoulder to avoid getting wet. The water was still hot, but that was okay. Herbert held her close to him as she turned her face to the side so he could possess her mouth with his once again, the feel of her firm backside rubbing against his hard member too much for him as well as his hands roaming over her body again, and made her turn around to straddle his lap, her wet core rubbing against him, but while he enjoyed every moment of this right here, he felt perhaps the bed was better for them to lose their virginities. "Heather..." he gasped after another steamy round of lip-locking, "...maybe the bed..."

After drying each other off, he could smell the roses on her skin and off himself. She laid down first and he followed, her legs spread for him so he could position himself at her still weeping entrance. Herbert hesitated, knowing this would hurt her the first time, so he had to take it slow. Gently, he eased himself in, but then came the obstacle that was her hymen, which all girls had as proof of their first time. In spite of it, the pain still came when he pushed past it, and her cry was brief. He paused. "I'm sorry," he tried to apologize.

Heather shook her head. "I'm fine."

He was gentle with her the whole time they became one in the bed they shared, the light of the candles still flickering in the mostly dim room that intensified the mood but still allowed them to see each other. His love for her was stronger than ever, more powerful than the psychology of that outwardly simple but beneath-the-surface complex emotion called love...that information proved no more justice than the waves of it as Herbert picked up his pace, his whole body unable to take anymore, the theory that more speed meant more pleasure proving right. Heather wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him in closer, but then she pushed him over so they both lay on their sides, still connected and in perfect unison...and in perfect bliss.

~o~

His wife never failed to turn him on, even as she emerged from the washroom now in a long nightshirt, their son curled up beside him as he watched the latest of the news, keeping track for the sake of the newlyweds across the hall who were "too busy" right now for this. Still the same here: he, Herbert and Heather still wanted and waiting to be brought to justice, possibly facing charges and put away for life. And who knew what would happen to his family. Which was why they had to get out of the country soon.

"Still the same?" Francesca asked as she scooched up beside their sleeping son.

"Yep," Dan answered. And no more killings...yet. It appeared to be that Moreland and his lackeys were laying low for now, but they would strike again soon. And that damned video...no way it would be tied to him, given WHO is in the footage doing the deed. And Eric was smart enough to not record the mention of himself involved. "And they're still also talking about Eric and Leslie still missing."

She sighed and leaned back against the pillows. "Maybe if we're lucky, they'll be caught and put in the Sefton ward again. Like those others before them."

"I wish." Dan sighed, too, and leaned back. But chances of that were slim to none. Hell, maybe no one will ever find them, and who knows how many more people will die.

Then there was a knock on their door, but their "unexpected guests" were neither Herbert or Heather, and certainly not the police.

~o~

They lay there for a long time, their naked bodies warming each other as he held her in his arms. She rested her ear against Herbert's lightly muscled chest, listening to his steady heartbeat – a heartbeat another person would think that he did not possess, but she did. His heart was nobody's business but her own, and it was a wondrous melody to her ears.

Heather's body was warm and tingling as she held her new husband back. Husband. It was an amazing word to her mind. "My husband," she breathed, leaning up and pressing her lips to his. Yes, the word was equally beautiful on her tongue and lips. He returned the kiss to her fervently, and then another, becoming more and more heated that she wanted to go another round with him. He had never done this before, but he was so gentle with her and knew which parts of her riled her up as she knew which of his got him going. It seemed like this night would not be over anytime soon, the more she thought about it. We could spend all day doing this, too.

Herbert chuckled as though he'd read her mind. "How's my wife feeling?" he asked, breaking the latest kiss.

"Up for another round," she answered. If this was how forbidden stuff tasted that much sweeter, she thanked the Bible she'd read as a child for that. The Serpent and Eve couldn't have been more true for this; she was living a life of danger and thrills, and she was addicted to it all. Addictions tasted that much better, lasted as long as you kept it going. Addictions were too hard to break, especially when it came to drugs and alcohol. People did those things because they were so good to them as they were bad. And those people choose to do them.

Just as I chose this wonderful man right here. She was never going to leave him; now she knew it for sure. He was her other half; she sought to preserve life as he studied death. Two sides of the same coin balancing the other. They were the perfect match like the other two across the hall from them. Heather giggled excitedly and crawled on top of Herbert, assuming the dominant role this time.

But they were once more interrupted by a rapid banging on the door. "Damn it!" she hissed angrily. "Could that be our 'landlord' demanding rent?" she asked Herbert as she hurried for her bag to grab a set of casual clothes she would be putting back anyways, something she planned for tomorrow. She hastily pulled on a white blouse and jeans, hurrying over to the door and looking through the peephole, not seeing the bastard at the front desk. "Dan, Fran!" She opened the door at the same time Herbert sank lower beneath the covers to hide his nakedness from them as the couple hurried inside. "Oh, God, what happened to you guys?" Francesca was sporting a busted lip as Dan's right cheek was bruised reddish purple.

"T-they took him!" Francesca cried frantically, grabbing her by the forearms. "They came and took my baby!"

Heather's mind was racing: Adrian? Who took Adrian? Even though she had one slightest idea. "Who? Who has him?"

"Moreland," Dan spat. "They came to our door and knocked us down, made off with him fast before we could get to him. They killed our guy at the front desk, tore his guts and strew them all over the place." Her stomach clenched at the images which popped up; the police would be here for sure, and that meant they would find them eventually.

"Oh, God." Heather shook her head, putting her face in her hands. They found us...they know where we are, and they have Adrian. Goddamn it, and on our wedding night of all times! They just had to ruin our perfect happy ending for one blissful night! She ought to wonder why life could just be easy on them for one damn time once in a damn while, although deep down, she knew life was never meant to be easy. But still, this is our first night as a married couple. Everything was so wonderful. And now it's been ruined. "That means we have to go find him."

"But that means risking our lives," Herbert said from the bed, sitting up but keeping the sheet over him. "And our freedom."

"My baby is out there with those freaks!" Francesca cried, throwing her arms in the air. "I am NOT just going to sit here and wonder what they're going to do to him!"

Dan ran his hand over the back of his head. "She's right. We have to go out there and get him back, get the hell out of here. The plans have changed. We leave tonight, and it can't wait any longer."

They allowed Herbert to redress before letting him join them, his re-agent bag now in hand because they both knew that one of them might end up losing their life, and there was one particular NPE he'd saved but never had the chance to use on another specimen for some time. By the time they were just outside the motel, the group found themselves surrounded by raised rifles and pistols, and at the head of them all was none other than Detective Miranda Chapham, daughter of Lt. Leslie Chapham who oversaw his own personal witch hunt for Heather's new husband and Dan, the father of a certain kidnapped little boy whose fate was at the hands of a re-animated physician and his legion of monsters.

"Dr. Heather Phillips, Dr. Daniel Cain, Dr. Herbert West," Chapham spat, her eyes on him, "and Francesca Cain...all of you are under arrest. Take them in," she ordered her men and fellow officers who obeyed and put all four in handcuffs, then shoved them all into the backs of their cars, Heather separated from her husband as the others were separated from each other, and all of them taken to the station where it was officially the end of them. And Adrian...God, please watch over him and keep him safe.

Oh no, this is not good. :( The beautiful wedding night ending terribly with the kidnapping of little Adrian - just as Frankenstein's wedding night ended horribly - and now the good doctors are in custody. Will they ever get out of this mess - and will they find the boy and stop Moreland and his zombies once and for all?