MARRIAGE (HONEYMOON)

"Do people still get married in DEVA?" Dingo asked, casual.

Angela paused briefly before resuming tinkering with the engine of the Jeep. "No. Why would they?" She was familiar with the arcane concept. Individuals joining in family units to provide support and safety against the struggles of every day living, and to provide a stable environment for the continuation of the species. Such things were unnecessary in a digital world.

"Huh." Noise from the underside of the vehicle ceased as Dingo paused briefly. She could picture the contemplative tilt of his head as he considered this. "Yeah." he said, as if agreeing. "I guess I get that."

They continued their work in comfortable silence for several minutes before something occurred to her that made her heart quicken slightly. He had a reason to ask, right?

"Do people get married here?" she asked, as nonchalant as she was able against the ridiculous racing of her pulse. Even after five years in this body she still found it difficult to control at times.

He slid out from under the Jeep, hand already rubbing the back of his neck. "Eh, not as such, no. I mean, there's no centralized government or church to make it official, you know?"

"Oh." Why did that disappoint her?

He rose fluidly to his feet and reached for a rag to wipe his hands, gaze focused on the simple task with unnecessary intensity. "People have private ceremonies, sometimes, but it's really more about personal commitment down here."

"A contract," she said. She remembered him describing their relationship that way once, early on.

He nodded, gaze still averted.

A suspicion stole over her and she laid down her tools to turn her full focus on him. "Dingo? Do you – do you consider me your wife?"

He flushed. "Well, I'm not planning to leave you if that's what you're asking," he said gruffly.

She blinked. "I didn't think you were."

His gaze met hers then, a dichotomy of ferocity and tenderness. "I meant ever, Ange."

"Oh." They'd never talked about it, but she'd never even considered a time when they might not be together. "Me too. Or, uh, me neither?"

The unusual intensity in his eyes faded and he smiled at her. She smiled back and they stood a moment, just smiling at one another, before, as if by some unspoken signal, they both returned to work. This time they were nearly shoulder to shoulder as they made adjustments to the engine together. It was comfortable, and them, but something prevented her from fully relaxing. The thought that he'd brought the subject up for a reason wouldn't leave her. She remembered the rarely seen flush, the averting of his eyes.

Yeah. This meant something to Dingo.

"What kinds of private ceremonies?" she asked casually.

"What?"

She didn't look at him. "You said people sometimes have private ceremonies. What kind?" In the old days, before the Nano Disaster, before DEVA, there had been elaborate parties. White dresses. Beautiful flowers. She couldn't imagine anyone on the surface having the resources for all of that, or even a portion of it, now.

"Oh. Uh. Well, you know. Private." He shrugged. "I've never actually been to one. They're . . . private."

She stopped and shifted to rest a hip against the vehicle, facing him. "Did your parents have one?"

"I don't know," he said, voice muffled as he was still leaning over the engine. "If they did it was before I was born."

He was too casual about this. And he wasn't looking at her. Never a good sign.

She laid her hand on his arm and he froze and then slowly rose and turned to face her.

"Dingo?" she asked, completely serious now. "Do you want to get married?"

He didn't blush, but his face went carefully blank. "It's not really necessary."

"That's not what I asked." She wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his gaze solemnly. He sighed and dropped his forehead to hers, arms moving to circle her waist.

"All I want is you," he breathed, "forever."

He was such an incurable romantic, and she loved him for it.

"Yes." She titled her head up to brush a soft, chaste kiss against his lips.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you. What do we do?"

He blinked down at her, shocked, but it was a happy shock.

"Dingo?" she prompted.

He drew in a shuddering breath. "Oh. Uh, right. Well . . ." His hand was back at his neck, or it tried to be, but hers were in the way. When he moved to drop it she snagged it with one of her own, gently entwining their fingers.

"Uh, generally there are vows," he said.

"Vows?"

"We promise never to leave each other," he expounded.

"Done," she promised.

"And, uh, to honor and love and cherish one another."

She smiled softly, her free hand smoothing the hair at his nape. "Also done."

"In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, better or worse."

Well, they'd certainly done all of that. Within the first 48 hours of their acquaintance.

"Done," she said softly. "Anything else?"

He swallowed thickly. "I, uh, think that about covers it."

"Huh," she tilted her head, thoughtful, "that was easier than I expected."

He gaped at her and then chuckled. "Yeah." His free hand slipped from her waist to tug on her hair. He kissed her.

"What was that for?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Supposed to kiss the bride, right?"

She smiled and kissed him back. "What about the groom?"

"It's not traditional, but don't let that stop you." He freed his fingers from hers to frame her face with both hands. "I love you, Angela Balzac."

"I love you, Zarik Kajiwara."

They shared another silly grin. She studied him, wondering how such a simple thing could make him so happy. How it could make her happy when she hadn't even been raised in this world. It wasn't like anything had really changed. They'd made those promises long ago in their hearts, even if they rarely said the words.

"Dingo," she said slowly. He looked down at her in question and she pulled one of his hands back to tangle with her own between them, staring down at them and thinking how well the appendages mirrored their lives. "I think maybe we've been married all along," she murmured.

He smiled, looking down at their joined hands as well. "You know, I think you might be right." He looked up at her through his lashes, eyes sparkling, mischievous. "Let's honeymoon anyway."

"Honeymoon?" It came out an undignified squeak, mostly because at that moment she found herself slung over his shoulder, his hand cupping her ass.

"Mmm," he hummed, and she could hear the grin. "That one's really more of a show and tell."

"Uh, okay . . ."

He pressed a kiss to the back of her thigh and carried her to their room, where he deposited her gently on the bed and crawled over her.

"See, it starts with us and this bed, and not leaving it for a long, long time."

Even after all this time she still flushed at the heat of his gaze. She pushed through it. "How is that different from a typical Saturday night?"

His eyes flared with passion.

"I said a long time, Ange," he rumbled. "I was thinking a few days, at least."

"Oh," she breathed, the thought of days like this overwhelming, but not at all unpleasant. "Work?" she asked weakly.

"It'll keep. We won't go broke in a week, Angela."

She nodded and closed her eyes as he kissed her, only to open them a moment later with a squeak. She pushed lightly at his chest and he backed away to give her a fraction of space.

"Did you say a week?" she asked, wide eyed.

Dingo grinned, unrepentant and sexy as hell. "At least," he confirmed with a nod.

And then his mouth met hers once more and his hands moved to the button on her jeans and she thought that sounded like a very good idea.

She wondered if a honeymoon was something they could do more than once.

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A/N: So, as you might have noticed, once I got started these things kind of started prompting themselves. Like, in the last one Angela called Dingo her Husband, so in this one you got to find out how that happened. But I'm not necessarily posting in the order I wrote them, so it's kind of hard to follow the thread of my thoughts. I'm evil like that (or maybe I'm protecting you - my mind can be a scary place . . . )

Thanks for reading,

reenas-as