:-x-:
WEEK 8 - FLYING SOLO SKATE
(SEMI-FINALS)
:-x-:
Hero hits the ice and John vaults out of his seat. She does not rise and he skids onto the ice, not caring that he is just in his shoes.
Beatrice is crouched beside Hero, shouting. Other people are yelling for a medic. John slides onto his knees before Hero and sees the blood seeping over the ice. The rink is a riot of sound; if his voice is among them John is unaware. His ears fill with a shrill piercing as he stares at Hero's still form; her usually warm face now pale and lifeless. Beatrice cradles her head in her lap, using the gauzy material of her dress to stem the blood streaming from Hero's forehead.
(He does not see the instructor yelling at Claudio for careless handling or hear the other's vehement defence. His attention is fixed on Hero.)
He mouths her name. She gives a faint groan. John's heart catapults out of his chest. Her lashes flutter but remain closed.
The medical team arrive, instructing everyone to clear the ice. Gently, they lift the unconscious Hero onto a stretcher and carry her off to be taken to the hospital. John starts to follow and slips.
Another professional skater steadies him before he can fall. "Careful, we don't need a further accident."
John stares in the direction that the medics carried Hero. Then his eyes travel to the patch of rusted crimson that stains the ice. His hands shake, legs puddling.
An arm loops around him and he hears Ben's voice at his ear. "I've got him. I've got him. Come on, mate. Let's get you a seat. Don't suppose you've any alcohol handy. Think we're going to need it."
:-x-:
Hero regains consciousness in the hospital where she is informed that the gash in her forehead needs to be stitched and that her ankle is fractured. The first announcement twangs her vanity but the second has her collapsing into tears which discomfits the doctor and takes the nurses a good several minutes to calm her down.
Later, once her head has been stitched and her foot is in a brace, Beatrice comes flying in to see her.
"Bea-Beatrice…" Hero's bottom lip trembles, tears streaking down her face once more.
Beatrice wastes no time, wrapping her arms around her. "I know, love. I know."
Hero sobs, burying her face in her friend's shoulder. "I've ruined everything!"
"Of course not!"
"Now John is without a partner and the Semi-Finals are tomorrow!" Hero blubbers.
Beatrice seizes her shoulders, looking her in the face. "None of that matters. Hero — when you hit the ice—" She bundles her into another hug. "Never terrify me like that again!"
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't apologise!" Beatrice snaps. "I swear I'm going to kill Claudio! He should have known better than to throw you that hard. You're not a bloody shotput!"
Hero remembers the throw, spinning through the air, her body out of control. "We broke-up."
"What? When?"
"J-Just before the rehearsal. We — we were arguing and I — I sort of broke-up with him…"
Beatrice's storm-blue gaze darkens into a maelstrom. "You… broke-up with him?" Her expression turns murderous. "And he put you in the hospital!"
"I don't think it was on purpose…" Hero says in a small voice, fiddling with the fabric of her hospital gown. "We — we were both distracted. I probably should have told someone before we started skating but then that would have messed things up."
"Hero." Beatrice's voice shakes, as her fear from the last hours morphs into outrage. "This is not your fault. Claudio has done those sorts of throws a hundred times. He knows how to do them without endangering his partner. It's his goddamn job. Oh, I'm going to have him fired for this."
Hero thinks about the look on Claudio's face and shudders. She doesn't want to think that he could hurt her like this on purpose, but she doesn't know. Her eyes well with tears against her will.
"Oh darling," Beatrice soothes, combing her fingers through her hair. "Oh it's alright. It will be alright."
"Miss Rosetti?" One of the nurses approaches her bedside. "There's… um… a very anxious man here to see you."
Beatrice is immediately on alert. "What does he look like?"
Hero trembles. Surely it is not Claudio.
"Well…" the nurse hesitates, "You know he looks just like that Don Morello fella off Verona Beach."
Hero's heart somersaults. Her hands fly to her hair, realising it is still matted from her blood. "Oh… um… I'll see him."
A twitter goes around the ward as John enters. He goes straight to her, sharp-gaze taking all of her in. She must look a sight in her hospital gown, face blotchy from crying and with the fresh stitches in her forehead. There could not be a worse time for John to see her but her embarrassment is suffused with warmth at him being here.
"I'm going to call the studio and let them know you're okay," Beatrice informs, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaves.
"I… I bought this from the gift shop… for… for you." John holds out a small cuddly toy dog that bears a striking resemblance to Titus.
Hero seizes it with a coo, clutching him to her chest. "He's lovely, thank you."
John shifts his head. He is still staring at her with an intensity that makes her throat dry. Does she look like Frankenstein's monster? Her hands tighten on the cuddly dog.
He clasps the side rail of the bed, gaze travelling from her boot to her head. "How serious is it?"
"A fractured ankle and a mild concussion. I'm… I'm out of the competition." Her voice wobbles. "I'm so sorry. We'll find you a new partner."
John's face twists. "I'm not continuing the competition without you. I'll forfeit."
"No!" Hero lurches forward, dropping the dog and gripping his hand. "No, John, you can't. Please. You have to carry on. I'd never forgive myself if you missed out because of me."
"I don't want to win… not if… it's not with you." His finger rises to her cheek, knuckle brushing a tear aside.
Hero closes her eyes against the flood and shakes her head — it throbs. "You have to continue. Please, John. For all the fans who have supported you. For your mum. For me."
His fingers unfurl, his hand cradling her cheek. She exhales a shaking breath as she leans into his touch. A few more tears slip free and he wipes them aside.
"The show is tomorrow. You think they can find me a new partner who can learn the routine in… less than twenty-four hours?"
Her eyelids flutter open, she looks into the warm brown depths of his gaze. "It won't be easy, but you're not a quitter. And I'll be right there — as soon as I'm discharged — in the audience, coaching you through, cheering you on. We're still a team. Let's see this through to the end."
John considers her then sighs. "I can't say no to you."
Hero beams, happiness threading through her for the first time since she regained consciousness. She flings her arms around him, giving him the biggest hug. His hands settle on her waist, careful, as if afraid he could hurt her. She wishes he would hold her with the same fearlessness as he had when they flew over the ice. To think that had only been a few hours ago. She nuzzles her face into his collar.
The murmurs around the ward grow until Hero and John both remember their audience and let go of each other.
Beatrice has returned with Ben in tow. "Margaret is going to stand in for Hero."
Hero feels a jealous twinge but looks to John who hasn't taken his eyes from her face. "You should get back to the rink. You need to rehearse.
She doesn't want him to leave. She wants him to stay here, holding her. But he needs all the rehearsal time he can get if he is going to perform tomorrow night with his… new partner.
He stares at her a beat then nods, hands disappearing into his jacket pockets. "Alright." He looks at Beatrice. "You'll look after her?"
"Of course."
"I'll be there tomorrow," Hero promises. "Wild horses couldn't stop me."
He nods, a thin crease in his brow. She observes a pulse inside his cheek like the flick of his tongue.
Before anything else can be said the woman in the bed next to Hero's leans across. "Excuse me, Mr Morello. Would you mind signing my cast?"
The ward is suddenly full of voices asking for an autograph or a selfie. A few of the nursing staff even join in. John stands with the rigidness of a deer in the headlights.
"This could take a while," Beatrice mutters.
"Hey," Ben squawks, "Doesn't anyone want my autograph?"
No one reacts.
Hero smiles. "You can sign my cast."
:-x-:
BREAKING:
PRO SKATER SUFFERS SEVERE INJURY BEFORE LIVE SHOW
JOHN ARAGON LOSES PARTNER 24 HRS BEFORE SEMI-FINAL
FANS PRAISE JOHN ARAGON AFTER HEART-WARMING TRIBUTE TO INJURED PARTNER
VERONA BEACH STAR THROUGH TO THE FINAL DESPITE MAJOR SET-BACK
:-x-:
WEEK 9 - GRAND FINAL
:-x-:
Hero shows up for every rehearsal ahead of the Finals despite suggestions that she take it easy. She may be out of the competition but she is not abandoning John. She coaches from the sidelines as he practices with Margaret and the other professionals (Claudio is not with them. He has been suspended for the rest of the series to Hero's relief). She wants nothing more than to join John on the ice but her boot is a clamp around her ankle, reminding her that she is a bird with a broken wing.
Watching him skate with Margaret causes a corkscrew of emotion she tries to ignore. This is about John giving his best performance and it is plain that he is struggling with the change of partner. They do not have the months of familiarity and trust that John and Hero have built together. Even some of the basic moves are shaky; falls are more frequent. In the stands, Hero can see John's shoulders bowing with the pressure, sees his anxieties morph into frustration. Margaret doesn't understand his moods as Hero does, doesn't know how to react to him.
He joins Hero during the break, tugging his hair into spikes. He looks as if a swarm of kittens are trying to claw their way out of his skin.
He doesn't bother with a chair, slumping on the ground next to her good leg and releasing a haggard sigh. "Wish you'd let me quit."
"Have you ever not finished something in your life?"
"Unluckily for my childhood bullies, no."
Hero smiles, her fingers developing a life of their own as they play with the tips of his hair. "You're going to attack this the way you have every other routine and at the end of the day whatever the outcome is you'll be proud of what you have accomplished."
He grunts and leans his head on her knee. She freezes for a split-second then resumes stroking his hair.
"Doesn't feel right without you," he murmurs, eyes shut. His finger traces her uninjured ankle.
Her pulse stutters, hand pulling out of his hair and curling in her lap. "I'm right here, cheering you on. Even if I'm not physically beside you, my heart is there. We're still a team, John. I'm with you to the end."
He lifts his head, turning those dark soulful eyes on her. "Get lunch with me?"
She smiles, grabbing her crutches.
Mother Hen is not a term she would have ever thought to describe John, but he makes such a fuss over her as they walk, cautioning her of steps and holding doors open. She doesn't mind, a warm fluttering in her chest.
As they pass through the foyer she notices Christopher Dean in conversation with someone. Something about the figure is familiar. Then he sees her and she lurches to a halt, dropping a crutch in the process.
"Hero!" He crosses to her, expression twisting with a nervousness that snatches his smile before it has finished forming.
Hero latches onto John, gaping at the man in front of her. "Dad!"
It has been nearly ten years since she last saw her father but from the look of him it could have been twice as long. His hair is now completely grey and a thick beard covers his crinkled face. She has been receiving updates on his well-being from her Aunt Ursula but she hadn't been prepared for such a transformation.
"Hero…" His gaze darts over her, taking in the scar on her forehead and her crutches. His mouth tightens, the corners tugging down. "I heard about your accident. I'm so sorry."
Hero swallows around a lump in her throat, a tell-tale prickling behind her eyes. Has he been keeping tabs on her, the same as she has been on him?
"It is the risk we take when we get on the ice," she says, parroting the words he used to tell her. "Pain is the price of being a great skater."
His shoulders slump with his face. "I always expected too much of you." Hero feels the incision of his disappointment but then he continues. "You were right to say what you did to me. I should have focused on being a better father than winning pointless medals. I'm sorry I left it this long to tell you so. I'm sorry for so much."
Hero is shaking, fighting to hold back the river that threatens to burst. She feels so much — grief, anger, happiness, resentment, relief. A hand presses over her own and she realises she is digging her fingers into John's arm. She doesn't know how he is maintaining his calm as he eases her grip, steadying her.
"I — I — I came here to apologise," her dad carries on, looking as shaken as her. "To — To make amends if — if I could. I've — I've missed you so much."
Hero closes her eyes, sucking in a breath, then she hobbles the short distance to her father, throwing down her remaining crutch and hugs him.
"I've missed you too, dad," she murmurs in his ear, everything else too sharp and too raw. It is not forgiveness, but it is where forgiveness begins.
He folds his arms around her with a choked-off sniff. As she pulls back, John is there, holding out her crutches. She takes them with a thanks.
"Dad, this is my partner, John Aragon."
John's expression is neutral as he regards her father, but something flickers in the latter's expression, a strange tension between them.
Before Hero can question it her dad musters a grin. "Of course, of course. I've been following your progress on the telly. You skate very well for a novice."
"You've been watching?" Hero asks in amazement.
Her dad's face softens. "I never miss an episode."
It heartens her to think he has been watching her skating through the television. She used to wonder; it plagued her thinking he would disapprove of her career choices.
"Your daughter is remarkable," John states and every one of Hero's nerves vibrate like a strummed guitar. "I never would have made it as far as I have without her support."
"I hope… I will get the chance to know the woman she has become." Her dad looks at her, his smile is smaller but genuine. "Can we — Can we go somewhere to — catch-up, please. A café or — where-wherever you like. I'll pay, I insist."
Hero feels an ache deep under her ribs. She offers him the fracture of a smile. "There's a nice café nearby. We can go there."
His face clears with this proffered salvation, his own mouth curving in answer. "Good."
"Shall I leave you?" John murmurs in her ear.
"No." She holds tight to him. "Please, come with us."
She doesn't check if her dad is okay with this arrangement. He can endure John as she did his years of silence.
John reads her face and nods. She keeps from gasping in relief. Her smile is stronger as she looks to her dad; it is still a struggle to believe he is here but he is and so is John.
"Alright. Let's go."
:-x-:
"The Grand Final. Not bad considering you were dead set against the idea when I first suggested it" Conrade remarks in a voice that is so neutral it is practically smug. "I said this competition would be good for you."
"I can still break my neck," John mutters.
"Try to avoid that outcome. I'd hate to lose your clientele just when your approval ratings are so high."
"Perhaps I'll take this opportunity to find a new agent."
Conrade doesn't bat an eyelid. "After I secured you that audition? Not to mention the lengths I went to tracking down—"
John holds up a hand as Hero approaches. "You're wanted in Wardrobe."
"Miss Rosetti," Conrade greets her. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance at last. I'm John's agent."
"You can call me Hero." She smiles at him. "So you're who we have to thank for John being here."
"It is nice for someone to thank me, but I believe much of the credit lies with you." He ignores the dangerous look John throws him, lilting on. "You've had quite the impact."
Hero's gaze widens and John presses his hand to the small of her back. "Excuse us, we shouldn't keep Wardrobe waiting."
"Nice to meet you," Hero tosses over her shoulder as John steers her away.
"What does Wardrobe want?" He asks as they head down the corridor.
"Nothing," Hero chirps. "But I thought you'd appreciate a few moment of peace before the show starts."
He looks at her and the knowing smile that plays on her lips. "You're a saving angel. Thank you."
The Grand Final has everyone in a frenzy, rushing around, ensuring all is arranged for the last night of the series. John is glad to slip both the mayhem and his supporters. Not only is Conrade here, but his mum has shown up with her full fan club wearing t-shirts with his face printed on them and waving homemade signs. Pedro is here too sporting his trademark smirk and poised to answer any questions the hosts might have about his brother. In comparison, the quiet of his dressing room seems a veritable oasis to John.
He holds the door open for Hero, who hesitates. "Please, don't leave me to the mercy of my thoughts."
She smiles, maneuvering her crutches inside. John has her take the chair, perching on the vanity table himself.
"Look who I have with me." Hero takes from her bag the cuddly toy dog that John had gifted her at the hospital. "I brought Mini Titus along with me since no actual dogs are allowed. He's like a little mascot. We're both going to be in the audience rooting for you."
John's mouth slides upwards. He thinks about all the people who are here tonight supporting him. He never thought so many would care.
"I can't take the nerves away," Hero continues. "But I know you're going to be fantastic. You've made it to the Final, John! After all your hard-work. That's incredible in itself no matter where you place."
"Hm." He looks down at his feet, his ears hot.
"Just think, tonight is the last night of the competition. In a few more hours this will all be over."
John's fingers tighten around the edge of the table. He lifts his head to look at her. "Hero…"
She gazes back at him, her expression patient as she waits to hear what he has to say.
"I… um…"
"Yes?"
"I…" His gaze drops to the cuddly dog held in her lap. "I have an audition for Richard III."
There is a pause, then Hero surges forwards. "John — That's amazing! I'm so pleased for you. You'll be playing King Richard, right?"
He nods, glancing back at her face. "It's not guaranteed, I still have to audition."
"You'll get the role. I'm sure you will. You're perfect!"
She throws out her arms to hug him and John steps into her embrace, pressing the slant of his smirk to her head. "You think I make a good villain?"
"You make an excellent one." She directs into her chest. "Of course, you're a sweetheart in real life."
"Am I?" He chuckles at the absurdity, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. "Many would disagree."
"Many don't know you… but I do." Her voice softens. "John… I know you're the reason my dad has reconnected with me. I know you found and confronted him."
He releases her, backing against the vanity. "You weren't supposed to know about that. He told you?"
"He let something slip and I dragged the truth out of him. I can be quite persistent when I want to be."
He knows and now that same determination is fixed on him.
"John… why did you go to the trouble?"
His hands curl and flex. "Didn't do much. Told him what an idiot he was really… to let you out of his life. Told him… how incredible you are… that you were better without him but… you would be happy to see him… because that's the sort of person you are."
Hero gazes up at him with a quietness that distils him. "You know I… broke-up with Claudio."
He sucks in the air through his teeth. "It seemed a foregone conclusion after… what he did."
He tries to say it casually but the last words growl out of his throat, fists clenching. He would love to break Claudio's legs but for good reason the skater has been banned from the rink and John hasn't seen him since that awful day when Hero's blood stained the ice.
Her voice pulls him out of that nightmare scene. "We had an argument before that… about… about you. He said some unpleasant things and I… had enough… I dumped him."
John is cold, slotting the pieces together and not liking the picture it forms. He wants to hunt down Claudio and kill him but the way Hero is looking at him has him frozen, his heart rioting in his chest.
She gives a tremoring laugh. "I hate it but… but he was right about… me…"
John's brow furrows. He doubts that asshole was right about anything. "Like Hell he was.
Hero gives another splintered laugh and avoids his gaze. "I… I don't want tonight to be the last time we see each other."
He stiffens, feeling as if something is burning through his fingers and if he doesn't grab it tight, it will slip out of his reach. "It won't be."
She looks at him. "John… I… I shouldn't…"
His hands close around the feeling. "Hero…"
"SKATERS TO THE ICE. FIVE MINUTES TO START." The announcer blasts.
Hero springs to her feet, grabbing her crutches. "We — We better go!"
However, John is rooted to the spot, hands clenched as his pulse hammers. "You were saying something…"
"It doesn't matter now. You need to take your place."
"We've time. Tell me."
"It's nothing that can't wait!" She prods him with her crutch but she can't get around him and he is holding steadfast. "John!"
He places his hands gently on her shoulders. "Hero…"
"You're going to be late," she whines, flushed and too beautiful to pretend anymore.
"I don't care…" he utters, "I don't care about the contest, it doesn't matter to me. All I've cared about, all I've been able to think about ever since the day we met and I nearly fell on my ass — is you."
Her gasp quivers out of her, shock trembling across her features and in their ripples he catches the glimmer of something else, something that makes him dare to lean forwards, to bend his head and part his lips. He watches for a recoil, some sign of rejection, until he can taste her breath on his tongue and there is scarcely a hair's breadth between them, then her eyelids flutter shut and his lips are on hers.
For months he has wanted to kiss her and now that he is he doesn't know how he went without for so long. He wants to be gentle but finds he is fast losing control, all his wanting rising inside him and pouring out into her. It is like those moments on the ice when their bodies would synchronise, the world rushing around them, the two of them intertwined. As he gains confidence he feels her lips teasing him, urging him to be bolder. As always he meets her challenge, sweeping her from the ground as if this were one of their dances and pressing her to the vanity.
John becomes aware of a loud pounding that is more than his blood in ears. There is a rapid knocking at the dressing room door and Margaret's raised voice.
"JOHN? YOU BETTER BE IN THERE! THE SHOW IS ABOUT TO START!"
Hero pulls back, pressing her hand to his chest. "We… c-can… continue this.. l-later…"
Her breathless state does something to assuage his displeasure at their interruption. "Later…" he rolls out the syllables, squeezing her waist. "I'll hold you to that."
"Hold me anyway you like." Hero's eyes twinkle and, God, it is impossible not to kiss her again when she looks like that.
"JOHN!" More banging. "IF YOU'RE NOT OUT IN TEN SECONDS I'M GETTING BO TO BREAK DOWN THE DOOR!"
He parts from Hero, glaring at the door. "I could forfeit and stay here."
Hero's hand tightens around his arm. "Don't even joke about it!"
"If I do a good skate tonight can I take you on a date?"
"Yes!" She laughs, the sound like a song through his veins. "Now please answer the door!"
John releases her with reluctant hands and goes to the door. He is in time to prevent Bo from charging it.
"There you are!" Margaret sags with relief. Then her gaze travels over his dishevelled shirt and hair, landing on Hero behind him. "Oh Christ," she exclaims, a grin splitting her face. "I hope you can skate straight."
:-x-:
John does skate straight and on one leg and spins and leaps. All those months of training, all those bruises and bitter frustrations have led to this night, to this performance. He attacks the showcase with everything he has and finishes to the roar of the audience's applause.
He catches his breath, soaking it in. They are on their feet, cheering for him.
John won't admit it aloud, but he is grateful Conrade pushed him to do this competition. He had been bored, aimless, his career in a rut, picking fights with strangers to feel something. Ice skating has given him a new purpose, a new risk to take on, a new skill to hone. He feels refreshed, revitalised.
He raises a hand to the audience, a smile flickering on his lips. Margaret hugs him and he squeezes her shoulder; she has been a good partner considering she had to take the place of someone irreplaceable. As they skate from the ice he is flooded with foreign contentment. No matter the result, he is proud of how far he has come.
:-x-:
AFTER PARTY
:-x-:
In all the excitement John loses sight of Hero. He searches for her amongst the crowd of party-goers celebrating the series finale but he keeps being stalled by people wishing to congratulate him. He has already had to be rescued once from his fans and is irked that he now owes Pedro for the extraction.
At the centre of the room Portia is being paraded on Stephano's shoulders, hugging her trophy with that stunned smile like she still cannot believe she is awake. John is pleased for her, she earned her victory — and far better her than him. No one wants to interview the contestant who came third.
Ben doesn't seem too gutted as runner-up either. John glimpses the comedian dancing with Beatrice; the former Olympian has her head thrown back, burnished curls glowing under the lights as she laughs at something he has said. Bo and Margaret are out there too, tangled even tighter than they were on the ice. John is glad for all of them; he only wishes he could find Hero.
A large hand clamps around his shoulder, lugging him out of the crowd.
Antonio grins at him. "Well done, my lad. I knew you'd clinch it."
John stares, puzzled. "I didn't win."
"I'm not talking about the competition."
He spins John around. Hero is sitting there, smiling back at him.
"Much better than a trophy, no?" Antonio says and gives him a shove.
John meets Hero as she rises on her crutches. "I was searching for you."
"I thought I'd wait until your swarm of admirers had ebbed." Her cheeks dimple, green-brown eyes sparkling under long lashes.
He narrows the space between them. "Pedro intervened; turns out a winner of Strictly is far more impressive than someone who places third on Dancing On Ice."
Her fingers hook in his shirt. "Good for me, if it means I can have you all to myself."
His fingers hover at her waist. "Are you still interested in dating someone who only won bronze?"
"I'm interested in only you," she admits with a coy curl to her smile.
His hand curves around her waist. He leans his head down, almost resting it against her brow. "Would you… be free tonight?"
Hero blinks once then her smile widens. "You don't want to stay for the after party?"
"I'd rather be alone with you." He realises how this could be construed and clears his throat. "I mean… just… um… to talk."
Hero's eyes shine, her expression softening. "I'd like that… very much."
John eases out a breath, shoulders loosening as he returns her smile. Her fingers latch in his collar then her mouth is on his and it doesn't matter where he placed in the competition, when Hero kisses him, he feels like a champion.
:-x-:
TWO YEARS AND NINE MONTHS LATER
:-x-:
The December sun sets the ice ashimmer, the sky softening into lilac blues as Hero and John skate around the small outdoor rink that has been set-up besides the Christmas Market. These days, it is rare for them to skate together — both of them have busy careers and Hero is much more eager for John to massage her aching feet than to spend their dates doing what she does for a living. However, when the chance arises, it is always a special moment, inspiring memories and sensations of falling in love all over again.
Hero smiles at John whose fingers squeeze her own. "You're not half bad for someone out of practice."
"Just don't ask me to do any lifts."
"I doubt the stall's risk assessment covers people attempting the Airplane." She looks around. "Though… we have the space for it. John, have you noticed we are the only ones still on the ice?"
She is not sure when the other skaters disappeared but the rink is now deserted except for the two of them.
"I know. I paid the attendant to let us have fifteen minutes to ourselves."
She looks at her boyfriend in surprise. "Why would you do that?"
"To do this." He executes a perfect spin slide onto one knee, taking something from his pocket. "Hero, will you marry me?"
She gasps, looking from the ring to his face. "Oh John… Yes! YES!"
He surges upwards, catching her around the waist and lifting her off the ice. He spins her in a circle as she covers his mouth in warm kisses. Applause and whistles sound from those members of the public watching at the barrier.
"This is going to be all over the tabloids," John mutters, noticing their audience.
"Conrade will be pleased at least." Hero giggles, gloved fingers curl around his collar.
He looks at her, curls sprouting from her knitted bobble hat, her cheeks pleasantly pink. "As if I give a damn about anyone but you. As long as you're happy—"
"Oh John, I couldn't be happier!"
"Good." He smiles and kisses her again.
