"Are you happy, love?"
The question slips from his lips as they lay in the small bed in the Captain's quarters one night, the sheets tangled about their legs and her cheek resting on his bare chest. She is surprised by the question for a moment, shifting her position just enough to that brown eyes can meet blue, still slightly darkened from desire after their activities together. Her hand dances across his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart, tracing scars she could probably draw from memory now.
It is a complicated question, perhaps the most complicated he could have asked her, and yet the answer could not have been more simple. "Yes."
"Yes?" He seems surprised.
She takes his hand in hers, laces their fingers together. "Yes," she repeats. "I won't say that it isn't dangerous—we've faced more dangers together than most people face in a lifetime. And I don't know what sort of trials are coming for us. But with you, Killian, I'm happier than I've been in a very long time. The war taught me something, you know…taught me to cherish every day, because we might not get another. And that's what I'm doing with you. I'm going to cherish every minute I can with you. And that—no matter what might go along with it—that makes me happy."
His lips find hers in the dimness, a soft, sweet kiss that makes her sigh contentedly. "I'm glad," he whispers against her skin. "Because Mary…you've given me back a life I thought I'd lost. You've turned me back into a person I thought I'd never see again. And I am so, so grateful for that. I'm sorry I've gotten you into such trouble—"
"As I recall, I'm the one who got you into this mess. You remind me of it often enough." She nips at his bottom lip playfully, and he arches into her.
"All I mean is, I'm going to look after you, Mary. No matter what happens. I…I love you, Mary."
"I love you too."
They fall asleep, entwined in each other's arms, a few moments later.