Wedding Night

Once it had been quietly established that Rufus' departure had damaged only the groom's ego; the evening began to drift towards its natural conclusion. Those with children were the first to leave, Mia taking Bella back to the flat leaving a bereft Darren Holmes to gather his passengers and make the trip back to the London hotel they had booked to prepare for a night on the town. The people left on the dancefloor were generally barely known to the UCOS family; most had turned up either through accident or curiosity. Gerry's extended network of ex-wives and daughters were the only welcome guests still present. A few members of the force top-brass had popped in over the evening to offer their insincere congratulations to two officers who had formerly been heralded as shining lights but now, as far as they were concerned, had traded in their ambitions for an affair which must have been going on for years to have kept them both in their respective positions. Rob, more so than Sandra, was the receiver of their attentions. Either because she was considered the reason he had settled at DAC or because she had fallen off their radar, having exchanged opportunity for attainment in order to ruffle feathers which were preened to false perfection waiting for their pensions.

"If only they knew," Rob murmured in her ear as he led her in the last dance of the night. Lizzie behind the bar had provided him with a sensible coffee as soon as he'd returned to the bar after giving Gerry and Sandra the slip on the way back in after the big goodbye. About halfway through the second cup, he'd made his excuses to a former colleague and found his way back to his bride. She'd held up a hand to silence the apologies he hadn't yet made, uncharacteristically kissed him in the middle of the dancefloor to satisfy both herself and the whispering onlookers and taken her place in his hold for the last dance.

Leaving the free-loaders to the dregs of last orders, they thanked the band and the landlord, passing a generous tip to be shared amongst Lizzie and the others and made their escape. Gerry and a slightly soberer Steve promised to take care of collecting anything left behind and waved off the newly-weds as they made their way into the night.

It was a short walk, alongside the river, to the hotel where Rob's sister had paid for the honeymoon suite. "And breakfast," Rob whispered as the night-porter turned to collect the key. Suddenly everything was funny and Sandra giggled like a child much to the amused eyebrow of the night-porter who directed them to the room and left them to it. As the door clicked closed behind, an enormous silence fell. Until they caught each other's eye and fell about laughing like teenagers.

"Why…?" Sandra drew in a massive breath between her bouts of laughter and leant against the post of the bed.

"I … don't know," Rob offered helplessly, shrugging his shoulders in a Charlie-Chaplin-esque way.

Sandra bowed her head and giggled again. "Relief?" she offered.

Rob blew out his cheeks. "Maybe, drink?"

He pointed at the cheeky bottle of champagne that was sitting in an ice-bucket. Sandra grinned. He lifted the bottle and artfully tore the golden foil, twisted the wire and covered the cork with the provided cloth, nudging and guiding the gentle pop. He carefully poured two glasses, replaced the bottle and turned back to his wife, smiling. His smile fell as he noticed her hand placed across her abdomen. "Are you ok?"

Sandra lifted her gaze to his worried façade and nodded, gently biting her lip. "Come here," she whispered, reaching for him with her left hand while her right remained rooted to its place.

Replacing the glasses, Rob covered the short distance to her. His head was still vaguely fuzzy from the day's assault and a simple nod had done little to assuage his concern.

"Here," she whispered, taking his hand and replacing her own with his soft touch, holding it gently in place and waiting.

Stillness fell and stayed like a mist around them for an indefinable time until he felt it too. Through the cool, silky folds of her dress; he felt the unmistakable bubble of their child's movement.

Capturing her lips with his, they savoured the moment until the unspoken emotion nearly broke them. "How about that drink?" she forced her hands to fall from his waist.

"To us?" he asked as he handed her the glass.

She shook her head.

"To the first kicks?" he teased.

She shook her head. "I felt it this morning too," she admitted shyly. "I didn't say anything, because I wasn't sure that's what it was, and then at the reception…"

"It's ok," he smiled. "Hey," he wiped away the first tear as he waited. "It's ok, you don't have to …"

"Be alone anymore?"

"Or be scared," he told her. He lifted his glass.

She met his glass with hers. "To us," she smiled.

He took a long sip and sighed. "I'm sorry if I messed it up today, getting pissed and making a scene…"

"Hey," she laughed. "One of us was always going to end up pissed. And it couldn't be me. Anyway, you weren't as bad as Steve."

He shook his head. "I barely noticed, is he alright?"

"He will be," she leant down to remove her shoes. "Him and Charlie have split up. To be fair to him, I thought he'd be a lot worse today. At least he got drunk quietly in the corner."

"Unlike me who nearly started a fight with a complete stranger in the middle of a pub full of coppers," Rob said sadly. "If you and Gerry hadn't been there-"

"Then you still wouldn't have punched him," Sandra told him bluntly. "You were far too gone to actually hit him even if you had gone for him!"

"Oh! I'm glad to see you have that much confidence in my ability!"

She laughed gently. Wiggling her toes against the thick carpet she relished in the feeling of peace. As weddings went, theirs had been fairly unambitious from the start: deliberately so. And if it hadn't been for Rufus' announcement or the row between Mia and Marion, then it would have passed as prescribed: unfussy, relaxed and a day, just another day, but a bit special. Just right.

Rob could feel the hazy feeling of dawn coming as the coffee wore off and it simply became late by his body clock. He knew he'd been about to make a complete prat of himself and definitely owed Gerry a pint for looking after Sandra while he'd been wallowing with Steve. It had been a very different sort of Saturday.

"God it's quiet in here!" Sandra exclaimed. Of all the thoughts in her head, that was the one that made it out, she shook her head in disbelief. "Cold too."

Rob grinned, took the glass from her hand and drew her to him. He ran his hands over her arms. Smiling as she responded to the warmth she received from him, she glanced away. Following her eyeline to the four-poster behind them, he waited for her attention to return to him.

"Long day," he summarised neutrally.

"Good day," she corrected lightly.

"Tiring though," he suggested.

Smiling, she kissed him lightly before they prepared to hand themselves over to their baser urges.

"I think it undoes at the back."