Hugs From Behind

He snags her as she steps back out of the ladies' room, his arms circling around her waist, tugging her back. She huffs in surprise, her insides instantly alive with the flap of a thousand butterflies as his scent engulfs her, his broad body framing her from behind. His palms press to her stomach and he draws her against him, her dress whispering secrets beneath his fingertips, the folds and pleats of the soft white fabric brushing her legs like a caress.

She lets her weight sink against his chest, the back of her head falling to his shoulder while she laces her fingers through his until they're knotted together, strong and tight. Tying the knot, she grins to herself, can't stop smiling as she tilts her face to look at him.

"Hello, my husband," she hums, letting her voice linger enticingly on the latter term and brushing a kiss to his jaw.

"Hello, my wife." He buries his face in her hair, breathing her in while his arms tighten around her, like he missed her when she was gone all of three minutes, like he can't quite believe the reality of the words, needs the physical reminder of her scent, the feel of her in his arms to know it's true.

She knows the feeling, frequently catches herself breathless, her heart leaping as she tries to grasp the magnitude, the sheer wonder of their lives. They made it. Through heartaches and missed moments, hunting and being hunted, near misses and threats, through everything that stood in their way, even when it was themselves - they made it.

They're married.

Relaxing against the broadness of his chest, she lets everything float from her, her mind almost hazy as she fills her senses with his embrace. The long hallway is empty, echoes with the sounds of music and laughter that's drifting from the ballroom, the vivacious joy of their guests as they celebrate this momentous occasion with them, and she smiles, welling with quiet happiness at all that she's been blessed with.

"Do you know how gorgeous you are?" He murmurs, his voice gravelly as he enunciates his words, reminding her of the first time she faced him across the table in the interrogation room, the desire and blatant implications hot and alluring and familiar.

"You may have mentioned it a time or two."

"Because you're more beautiful with every day." He curls his little finger, strokes teasingly low over her abdomen and the coil of want tightens deep within her, her cheeks turning rosy as her skin flushes with heat.

She arches against him, her fingers gripping his tightly. "Wanna get out of here?"

He kisses her cheek, the tenderness a stark contrast to the desire that she knows is tightening his body. "You're ready?"

She lifts his hand, brushes a line of kisses to his palm before she guides it to her face, tilts her cheek into his touch.

"I'm ready."

For everything.