#PrincessPike2018

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 13

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Shitty exes being shitty, anxiety, stress of confusion, attempted sabotage. A bit of dirty flirting in there for good measure. Summary: When you and Marcus stumble upon the perfect place for your engagement party, things get complicated by Sam's plans to rent the very same venue. Notes: I'm sure I missed some errors in the proofreading, but such is life. Please enjoy, my dears! Chapter photo from Monticello's website.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The idea happened a bit by accident, but a few days after your goddaughter was born, once Sydney and Juan and Constance were comfortably and safely at home, Marcus had convinced you to take the last of your days off and go out to Monticello with him for some fresh air and historical tourism. The numerous tours and lunch at the café on the vast grounds are exactly the break that you need, and you're bent over the map together on the sunny grounds when you tilt your head and look up at him beside you.

"Ya know..." The idea is just a hum in the back of your throat. "I bet they're booked ages in advance to do events here...but it might be worth asking if they have an opening or a cancellation sometime soon."

"What are you thinking of having here?" He's not even arguing against the idea, just trying to get a feel for what you are starting to plan. "I don't think we can build our house here." He teases, having nearly gone cross eyed from going through house plans with you over the last two days.

"No, we're definitely not doing that." You roll your eyes playfully and nudge him. The work on the house is finally underway and now you've moved on to talking about decorating so it feels like square one of an entirely new project instead of just a new phase on a continuing one. "I was thinking it would be a hell of a place for an engagement party if they have an opening before Thanksgiving. But I doubt it."

Marcus contemplates it, looking around with his hands on his hips and hums. "I think it would be good." He agrees before glancing back at you with a smirk. "There's only one way to find out if they have any dates available." He teases. "We've got to ask."

"Gee, what a shocking idea." When you poke him in the side it comes with a giggle and you motion back at the visitor's center behind you. "Let's go see if anyone is in to chat with us about it."

Marcus snickers, wrapping his hand around your waist and tugging you closer while he snatches up the map with his free hand. "Let's go. Touring can wait."

Inside the Visitor's Center, the middle–aged woman sitting at the desk is pleasantly chatting with the last guests of a long line before turning her smile on you and Marcus. "Well hello there dears," she greets, just as pleasantly as a sunshiney summer day. "How can I help you?"

“My fiancée and I were hoping to talk to an events coordinator?” He glances back at you for confirmation at the title and when you nod, he turns and beams at her. “Is there one available, or do we need to make an appointment, Miss….” He glances at her name badge. “Amber?”

“Well certainly there is, but she is just finishing up a meeting at the moment.” Amber glances at her computer screen and back again without the smile ever leaving her face. “They should be done in just a few minutes if you’d like to wait and speak to her afterward?”

Marcus turns back to you, “do you want to wait, sweetheart?” He asks, rubbing your waist gently. Still proud as a peacock at being your fiancé.

“Why not?” There’s still a chance that there are no openings anytime soon, but waiting around for a few minutes to ask won’t hurt anything.

“Wonderful.” Amber picks up the telephone on her desk and pushes a few buttons with that everlasting smile on her face. “I’ll let her know she has someone waiting. May I have your name, sir?”

Marcus smiles as he gives your name and tries not to smirk when it’s obvious she recognizes the surname. “And Marcus Pike.”

“One moment, please.” The conversation that Amber heads into the receiver is hurried and she tries not to be terribly animated but you catch her glancing up at you once during the frazzled conversation and you smile kindly in response.

Marcus leans over and nuzzles your neck. “Hopefully she’s a political support of your mom and not firmly against her.” He teases quietly.

“Fingers crossed,” you laugh back quietly.

Marcus chuckles in your ear, holding you close as you both politely wait for the phone call to be finished.

When Amber sets down the receiver, she offers you and Marcus a warm smile and motions to a set of chairs to your side in the lobby of the Visitor's Center. "Melanie will be right with you. She will only be a few minutes more."

“Thank you.” Marcus thanks her sincerely and guides you to the chairs.

It's about ten minutes later than a tall, pretty blonde in a floral dress appears from around a corner, leading two people back toward the lobby of the building. If you hadn't watched them come into view you would have said it was too ridiculous. Too much of a coincidence. But there they are – Sam and Vanessa side–by–side with a notebook and pen in Vanessa's hands and Sam gesturing authoritatively all the way.

Marcus stiffens slightly, his hand squeezing yours gently and he wonders if he should stand and greet them or pretend that they aren’t known to you or him.

It only takes a split second, but the decision is taken from you almost instantly. Sam spots you from across the lobby and pauses only momentarily before aiming the group of them directly for you instead of toward the exit. “Looks like we’re doing this,” you murmur to Marcus, and stand with his hand still in yours as your exes approach.

“Congressman Chase, Vanessa.” Marcus greets both of them politely, if a little stiffly. Formal. Something that couldn’t be misinterpreted by anyone as rude. “What a surprise to see you both.”

“Well this is a surprise.” Sam doesn’t offer to shake Marcus Pike’s hand or yours, barely looking at you while the well–dresses blonde that had been walking with them senses the tension right away.

“Congressman. Miss D’Amario.” She looks nervous too, by association. Unlike Miss Amber at the desk, she knows exactly who is in front of her. “Let me just get you that last brochure, shall I?”

Marcus doesn’t say anything else, just rubbing the back of your hand gently and watching as the blonde guides them back towards the desk. “Well, I’m not sure why they are here.” He murmurs quietly.

“Who knows?” You huff quietly, holding onto him for stability. “Maybe the same reason we are.”

“No, no.” Sam’s voice is distinct in the echoing building. “We want to have the event at the house.” He is insisting loudly. “Not on an overlooking lawn.”

“I’m very sorry, sir, but as I explained to you, we have four locations across the grounds for private events.” With the patience of a saint, Melanie explains yet again. “Each location has multiple rooms available for hosting. However, the historical house is not one of them.”

“That’s is not good enough.” Sam tried charming her, but now it’s time to be serious. “Don’t you know what this is for?”

“Yes Congressman, you’ve been very clear about that.” Her painted on smile is placid and professional, even if her nerves are fraying slightly. “But with respect, even if the president wanted to have a campaign event here, the house would still not be an option.”

“There has to be a way to make this happen.” He glances over at you and Marcus, frowning slightly at why you are here. Another symbol of why he is having to fight so hard to make things happen. You’ve screwed him over.

“It is not an option we have available.” The woman’s eyes track his, glancing over at you in the lobby. She knows the ticking time bomb she has in her hands. She had been following the new first family in the news since the election. “And I assure you that our answer for anyone else will be the same.”

The shift of her eyes irritates him. Signifying that he’s not the most important person in the room. Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head. “I would hate for this to descend into a legal battle.” He speaks as if it’s not a threat but then he shifts topics. “What days are available?”

“If you are looking to hold an event next month, our lawn here is entirely booked aside from the night of Saturday the fourteenth. We had a cancellation that night. Otherwise we have smaller spaces available on several days but your maximum capacity for the event would be sixty people.”

"That will not be enough for our needs." Sam insists. "We would need the entire venue."

"We will be happy to accommodate the number of guests you quoted on the lawn on Saturday the fourteenth." The otherwise very pleasant looking blonde smothers a sigh of frustration and hands a brochure over to Vanessa, who accepts it with a snap of her hand and clips to the folder she is carrying. "Beyond that, our next available date to accommodate that many guests would be in January."

"Fine." He's not happy and he will be having a word with the proper people to get the answers he wants. "We will let you know, but pencil us in."

"The date will be held for twenty–four hours. At which time I will be happy to accept your deposit or establish an alternative plan with you for another space on the property, otherwise the availability will be released to other clients." When she smiles this time there is a measure of relief in it. "If there is anything else I can do for you, or anything other questions I can answer for you, please feel free to contact me. My office hours and direct line are listed on the card that I gave to your assistant."

Vanessa straightens slightly, tall and proud beside Sam. Her eyes flicker over to the pair of you to see if you are watching. Curious to know why you are here and desperate to not appear that way.

“Fine.” Sam bristles, disliking being told ‘no’ and placing the blame squarely on one single set of shoulders. No one had told him no while he was publicly dating the First Daughter. His effort to organize re–election events shouldn’t be nearly this hard, but here he is. Having to take meetings himself instead of making a simple phone call or just sending Vanessa on his behalf. But without knowing for certain why you and that FBI lackey of yours are here, he wants to see if he can at least eavesdrop on the beginning of your meeting before he leaves.

When Melanie shakes hands with Sam and Vanessa again, turning to walk towards you and Marcus, the two of you stand. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.” He starts, offering the slightly frazzled woman a sincere smile. “Hopefully our questions won’t be too arduous.”

“I’m sure they won’t be.” She wants to say that nothing would be as arduous as the meeting she just took, but that would be less than professional. She shakes your hand in turn and motions toward the direction she had come from with the congressman. “Why don’t we go to my office?”

Marcus does the polite thing and nods to Sam and Vanessa, a little surprised when the woman who had ended things with him amicably turns her head to snub him. He doesn’t say anything, just guides you to office, following behind Melanie at a few paces.

“Here we are.” Down a hall and up a few stairs, she stops and opens the door of an office to let you and Marcus inside. “My name is Melanie O’Neil and I’m the special event coordinator here at Monticello. I understand you’re interesting in planning an event with us?”

“Sweetheart?” Marcus looks towards you to take the lead, smiling softly.

"We were hoping you might have availability in the beginning of October, though I know that is short notice," you explain, but you did hear her rattle off some dates to Sam in the lobby. "We're interested in having our engagement party here."

“Engagement?” Her eyes widen happily as she takes in the sight of a happy couple in love. “Delightful.” She shuffles through the book and nods. “We have Saturday the fourteenth, I’m afraid that it is the only date available.” She tilts her head. “Someone else has expressed interest, but they have not paid to reserve it.” She would not feel bad about direct Sam Chase somewhere else.

"That would be fine with us, but I insist on waiting the appropriate twenty–four hours to give the other interested party their fair chance." You won't have Sam whining to some blogger about how you stole his venue space. That just won't fly. "Can you tell us a little about how you organize the space or if you have caterers on site?"

“It is the lawn area.” Motioning to the large detailed map of the event areas, she indicates a gorgeous area close to the water. “We can set up the space to accommodate practically any needs. A dance floor, a bar, string lighting.” She explains. “Tents are approved but they have to be provided by Monticello, to make sure that we don’t have someone coming in and destroying the grounds. Catering can be provided or you can invite someone in to cater for you.”

“That all sounds very reasonable.” The pricing is also reasonable for the location and what is being offered, and Melanie shows you and Marcus a brochure of price packages. “So we could select to have you provide the bar, tents, tables, chairs, lighting, and a dance floor…and we can bring in our own catering?”

“Absolutely.” She agrees with a nod and smile. “We pride ourselves on making sure that our clients have the best possible time.”

“And…” Glancing over at Marcus and then at the door where Agent Bailey is currently standing as nonchalantly as possible while keeping her eyes open. “You won’t have a problem with having the Secret Service on property?”

“Oh no.” If she’s shocked by the question, she doesn’t show it. “We will follow the lead of your security at all times. I do have to warn you that there are other events that day, but we keep the spaces separate.”

“That’s wonderful.” It’s hard to believe that anyone would have a problem doing business with this woman, but then…some people are quite picky. And you know Sam is one of them. “Honey, did you have any questions or ideas?” You ask, wanting to make sure Marcus is in on this planning.

Marcus considers the space and looks towards you. “Live band?” He asks. “Can there be speakers placed?”

“Certainly.” Melanie smiles at that and scribbles an additional note in the pad in front of her. “We have a bandstand ready to be put up when needed. As long as we’re not talking about a full scale orchestra, that can be accommodated.”

“No, nothing like that.” Marcus laughs. “I don’t think we would want to be that pretentious for an engagement party. We just want to have fun, right Birdie?”

“I don’t even want a big orchestra for the wedding, let alone the engagement party.” You agree, laughing a little at the very idea of it. It’s utterly ridiculous. You’re not orchestra people even if you do both like classical music sometimes. “No, I think we’re talking about something very reasonable. Nothing too big or too nit–picky.”

“I think that’s the best option, a live band and then we have a playlist for when they are taking breaks.” Marcus agrees looking towards Melanie. “Do you have a lot of bands that you work with? I’m not too familiar with the scene here.”

“We have a few.” She nods, turning to her computer, presumably to print out a list. “Mostly the kind you would hire for a wedding. Cover bands like that get a lot of work out here.”

“I would imagine they would.” Marcus agrees, looking towards you. “What do you think, sweetheart? Unless you have someone specific?”

“No, I think that sounds perfect.” Live music is definitely something you both feel strongly about, and it continues to incorporate local artists into the fold of every one of your events. It’s an excellent plan. “Can I leave you my number, and ask you to give me a call tomorrow to tell me whether or not Congressman Chase decides to take the date?” You ask Melanie as politely as possible. “If he doesn’t, I think we’ll be very glad to have it.”

“I will most assuredly call you.” She promises with a smile, hoping that she deals with you instead of the congressman.

“Then how about a tour?” You suggest, offering the woman a smile.

“That would be wonderful.” Marcus agrees. “If you have time, of course.”

“Of course.” Melanie stands from her desk again. “Come along with me.”

******

“What if we just stayed here?” You groan for the second time this morning, burrowing deeper into Marcus’s side in bed as the sun rises higher in the morning sky. It’s early but you have a lot to do. His parents and a few other friends and family are arriving this morning for the engagement party tonight. The planning had gone well for being such short notice, but that still doesn’t mean you want to leave the warmth of your fiancé’s side just yet. There are a thousand things to do today before the party tonight, but you’ll manage. You just want a few more minutes of quiet with Marcus before facing it all.

“Then we will have a party that will be will be talked about for ages.” Marcus hums in amusement. “An engagement party where the couple doesn’t arrive.” He rubs your back gently. “We could start a new fad.”

“It would be very mysterious of us,” you snicker, knowing you and Marcus are some of the least mysterious people on the planet.

“Yes it would. I think everyone would start a manhunt for us.” He laughs.

“Probably not the best idea,” you admit, even if it makes you laugh. “Since the Secret Service would be involved in the manhunt.”

“Millions of taxpayer dollars, wasted.” He snorts, smirking at you slightly. “All the helicopters they would bring out.”

You snort, looking up at him in the morning light and sigh dramatically to get one more laugh from him. "I guess we should get up then, huh?"

“If we have to.” This time, he’s the one pouting. “Our honeymoon needs to be someplace quiet. A cabin in the mountains. Where we just stay in bed all day.”

"You know you can go stay at the hotel where they filmed Dirty Dancing, right?" As you drag yourself out of bed on the morning of your engagement party, talking about your honeymoon sounds like the perfect conversation.

“Really?” Marcus hums, intrigued by the idea. “It’s really up in the Catskills, isn’t it?”

"It is." Unconcerned with wearing anything night for the first part of the day, you go straight to your closet for jeans and a t–shirt. You'll change into the silver cocktail dress you have picked out later tonight. "And they supposedly really lean into the Dirty Dancing thing, which is fun."

“I’m sure Agent Bailey would love an isolated cabin to have us locked away.” He teases. “If you want to look into that, I’m completely game.”

“It’s a far cry from our original idea.” Which is neither good nor bad, just worth pointing out. “Paris is very different from a cabin in the Catskills.”

“That’s true.” Marcus stops and turns to you. “I love the idea of both, each for very different reasons.” He admits with a grin. “Whatever you want, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”

“We could always make up a little list?” You offer, ultimately pulling an old college t–shirt out of your closet with a clean bra. “And then narrow it down after we settle on a wedding date?”

“That works for me.” Marcus agrees, watching you as you start to get dressed. It’s probably his favorite part of the day, unless you count undressing.

"Where else might you want to go?" He's watching carefully and you wiggle your hips a little in his direction.

Marcus grunts, feeling his body respond to the little tease and he’s honestly wondering if he can take you back to bed for another hour. “Um…you pick.” He tells you. “A beach?”

"The beach is good." If you reach for a pair of nearly non–existent panties just to keep teasing him? Well, who can blame you for that? "Sand and swimming and sunny skies. Are you thinking Mexico or Mediterranean?"

Marcus blows out a breath when you pull out the see through lace that is literally just scraps of cloth posing as panties. “Mexico would be nice. Somewhere off the beaten path?”

"Someplace with a little bungalow and a private beach?" Since Marcus likes to tease you just as much as you like to tease him, you don't feel bad for even a second about bending over dramatically in front of him so he can have the best view of your ass when you put your panties on. "Hawaii could be fun, too."

“Too many people.” He immediately grunts. “Too many cameras.”

That makes you smirk, and you throw it over your shoulder at him. “So you’re looking to have me all to yourself?”

“Absolutely.” He nods immediately, finding your eyes for a moment before he goes back to ogling you. “All mine.”

“Well that’s true even if we go someplace not isolated.” Deciding to continue messing with him just a tiny bit, you grab your tightest jeans to slip into while you’re still talking. “I’ve been yours since the day we met.”

“But I’m thinking more of being able to strip you down whenever I want.” He admits with a grin. Completely unrepentant at the idea. “Maybe not even pack clothes.”

“If that’s what we’re going to do, we can lock ourselves in the house and Door Dash every meal.” You remind him, finally going to put on your bra and shirt. “Our honeymoon is a chance to have an adventure together. A sexy adventure, but still an adventure.”

“Get your head out of the gutter, got it.” He winks and shoots finger guns at you playfully. “Like it said, just ideas.”

“Listen,” you grin in response to his silliness. “If we decide on a winter wedding, we’re absolutely going someplace tropical to get away. I’m not looking to put snowshoeing on our itinerary.”

“So an Alaskan dog sledding race is off the table?” He jokes, snickering to himself.

“You don’t like snow either, Texas.” But both of you laugh, and as you shimmy into your t–shirt you’re already feeling better about the day. “Also…I don’t think a winter wedding sounds ideal. Even DC gets snow, and we lose any chance of having part of the night outside.”

“Yeah, I’ve never understood the ‘Winter Wonderland’ theme some people go for.” He admits with a huff. “Freezing my nut— uh, toes off doesn’t sound fun.”

“No,” you snort and tug him up out of bed to get dressed with you. “Freezing your nuts off does not sound fun.”

“Caught that, huh?” He huffs, even if he’s well aware that you don’t mind that kind of humor. “I don’t think you would like it either. You seem to like that part of my body.”

“I like that part of your body very much.” Your smirk is puckish. “Just as much as you like my tits.”

“Don’t forget your ass.” He reminds you, smirking as he pulls off his sleep shirt to get dressed. “I like that too. Oh and your thighs.”

“I like all parts of you and you like all parts of me.” You bite your lip unconsciously when he starts to change, always admiring of your fiancé in as many ways as he’ll let you at any given time. Marcus isn’t vain. He doesn’t dedicate himself to cut abs and weight lifting. But he does go to the gym to be in shape for his job and that combined with his love of food has made him broad and strong with a layer of cushioning softness that you adore.

“Then it sounds like we are a perfect match.” He winks at you as you eye him. Turning around and wiggling his own hips playfully, even though he has a flat ass.

It gets a snort and a giggle from you, and you swat at him playfully. “Do you want to go downstairs for breakfast or have something up here?”

“Completely up to you, love.” He promises. “I’ve heard rumors that Syd has been haunting the kitchens with a snuggly little Constance strapped to her chest.

“I keep telling her that maternity leave exists for a reason, but she can’t stay away.” Not that you blame her. You know for damn certain that you won’t be able to stay away from the inn after you’ve had your kids, either. “Let’s go down and say hello.”

He snorts to himself, well aware that he will be fighting the same battle Juan is when you are recovering from giving birth. “I think we need to just build her a house on the property too.” He tells you. “Make sure she’s close enough to rest.”

“The house is almost done.” Just one more month, according to the contractors. “Maybe we should keep the apartment up here as a resting space for the staff for a while? Before we turn it into a guest suite.”

“Orrrrrr…” Marcus tilts his head as he looks around the apartment. It’s not large, but it’s large enough. “What if we turned it into a small area for a nanny?” He asks. “Someone to come and watch Constance and the future Pike brood for us?” He had been thinking about it and it seemed like a good idea and it would allow everyone peace of mind in knowing the kids are close.

“That…” Your eyes flick up to his, wistful smile tugging at your lips and warmth blooming in your heart. “Sounds like a wonderful idea.” Marcus has an uncanny ability to see the future so clearly that it might make you envious if you weren’t so grateful to have him as your partner. “I genuinely love that, baby.”

“You do?” He asks, wondering if you are just agreeing to it because you are so in love with him right now. “I figured it would be a good way for you to see the babies, ours and Syd’s, anytime you get a chance.”

“It’s a lot more practical than driving them to daycare in town only to come back here for work.” Instinct and affection make you want to snuggle into his side again, but you know you have things to do around the possibility that your baby goddaughter is downstairs make you reach for a cardigan instead of your fiancé. “I think it’s smart. And will probably save us some anxiety in the long run.”

“I think so.” Marcus agrees quickly. “There’s someone dedicated to watching them, so work can be uninterrupted, but you can see and snuggle them when needed.”

“Don’t pretend you won’t be working through your lunches sometimes just to get home to them sooner.” It’s an image you can see so vividly that it almost makes you glow, knowing how much Marcus is looking forward to being a father to as many kids as you can manage together.

“Have to make it home before the sun goes down.” He scoffs. “How else will we play ball? It can’t be in the house.”

“The only balls anybody’s playing with in the house are yours when I give you head,” you tell him unequivocally, nudging him toward the bedroom door once you’re both dressed to go brush your teeth together so you can go downstairs and eat.

He snorts in amusement, although he can’t deny that you do play with his balls while you are blowing him. Smacking his lips to your cheek before he loads up your toothbrush and then his, he winks in the mirror – thoroughly enjoying the everyday chores with you.

You’re on your way downstairs within about fifteen minutes. Agent Bailey is downstairs by your office when the elevator opens, having opened up to giving you more space now that you have an armed federal officer in the apartment with you every night. Around the corner and into the kitchen, you have to smother a squeal of delight when you see Syd hovering by the line with little Constance in her baby carrier strapped safely to mama’s chest.

“Told you.” Marcus bumps your arms and immediately grins when he sees the little girl. Shes not too old to stay awake for long and she’s snoozing peacefully while the chaos of the kitchen goes on around her. “This has to be her lullaby.” He jokes. “She grew in the womb to it.”

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness.” You scurry to Sydney’s side without hesitation to hug her gently and peer into little Constance’s face. “Hello angel! Oh my goodness she’s so sweet when she sleeps!”

“She’s actually one of those babies that sleeps better amidst the noise!” Sydney laughs and rubs her daughter’s back through the sling, leaning against you instantly. “You caught me, huh?”

“I’m not even cross that you’re poking around work while you’re supposed to be resting because you brought the baby,” you admit, although you restrain yourself from doing anything besides admiring Constance. Waking her up by accident would be awful. “Are you guys feeling okay about coming out tonight?” Juan’s mother had assured her son and daughter–in–law that the baby would be in expert hands if they wanted to make the engagement party their first outing since her birth. And you had also assured them that you wouldn’t be offended if they only came to the party for dinner and headed home before the dancing to be with their little girl.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She admits with a lopsided smile. “Just forgive me if I text my mother–in–law six hundred times to check on her?” She asks, knowing you would never be upset about that. “I don’t know how we are ever going to drop her into a daycare. That’s if we find one that will open up in the next six months.” They have been on a wait list for the daycare of their choice since she found out she was pregnant. There are still twelve other couples on the wait list ahead of them.

“Marcus actually had an idea about that.” A proud grin to your fiancé on the other side of the kitchen where he is getting your breakfast from Syd’s sous chef lights up your whole face. “Why don’t we bring dinner over to your place after the weekend is over and the chaos subsides, and we’ll tell you about it?”

“Of course.” She grins at the way the two of you had made deep and lasting plans. Knowing you deserve all that and so much more. “Indian?” She suggests. “I’m craving curry.”

“We’ll get take out from Rasika. Whatever you want.” While it might be one of your and Marcus’s favourite take out spots, it’s also a favorite of your friend group so that is an easy answer. “And you text home as much as you need to tonight, love.” Casting your eye from mother to daughter, your smile softens and your heart aches from wanting one of your own. “This little angel is worth it.”

“Isn’t she?” Like any new mother, her daughter is the most perfect thing to ever exist. “She’s feeding for longer. She ate four whole ounces yesterday when Juan fed her a bottle.” She’s pumping and they are bottle feeding to make sure Juan gets his own bonding time with Constance when Sydney isn’t breastfeeding. Plus there are times the still recovering mother is too tired to do it. So it helps them tag team their newborn.

You and Syd can and have cooed together over her growing girl for hours at a time, so you don’t even realize you’ve been standing there for ten solid minutes being an absolutely doting pair of sentimental idiots until Marcus comes up behind you and gently slides one hand around your waist.

“You need to eat, sweetheart.” He reminds you, whispering in your ear as he watches the baby sleep against her mother’s chest. He’s gotten to hold her for a bit, but he lets you hold her more when the opportunity presents itself. “We have a lot to do before the party.”

There are two plates with pesto–prosciutto breakfast panini on them sitting on the counter nearby along with two oversized ice coffees and you relent, leaning back against Marcus after giving Syd one more gentle squeeze. “You’re right,” you sigh. “I just want to stare at this little nugget of a baby forever.”

“I know.” Marcus chuckles. “How many times have you thought about having our first since she’s been born?” He teases, knowing he’s also been hit by baby fever as well.

“Like fifteen times a day every single day.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing he feels the same, and you let him peel you away from the baby reluctantly when Syd’s sous chef has a question for her. “Fifteen is a minimum estimate, by the way.”

“I was honestly thinking it was more like thirty.” He laughs. “I’m about that too.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait a whole year to get married?” The idea hums through you with excitement. Being able to have a wedding date by tonight would be a fun little plus.

“When’s the last time the roses bloom in the Rose Garden?” Marcus asks, knowing you want to have your wedding there.

“September, really.” The first week of September would be a full year from when Marcus proposed, which seems tidy to you in a way you weren’t expecting but makes you smile. “What if we did early September? Would that step on Constance’s first birthday?”

“I think we should talk about it with the parents, but I don’t see that being a problem honestly.” Marcus hums happily.

"I heard parents!" Syd calls across the kitchen, fearless in the face of a miracle baby who truly can sleep through the chaos of a kitchen. She bounces subtly as she walks across the room, making sure her daughter is comfortable against her chest, and leans against the counter where you and Marcus are having your breakfast. "What's up?"

“We were talking about wedding dates.” Marcus admits, glancing at you with a small smirk. “We don’t want to schedule something to step on the birthday girl’s toes.” He reaches out and caresses the sleeping baby with the back of index finger.

"Were you guys thinking of doing it in September?" She asks, eyes sliding over to you and when you nod through a bite of food she smiles. "What if we pick a different weekend?" Sydney suggests. "I don't want to suggest doing the baby's birthday in place of a day–after brunch or anything. So we can just do two weekends in a row?"

“Or we could.” Marcus offers with a grin. “I know my family is up for celebrating a baby’s first birthday. Especially since they are going to fall in love with her tonight.” He warns. “Constance will be gaining a lot of aunts and uncles.”

"We weren't really planning on having a day–after event anyway," you assure her. There are already so many wedding events on your plate that adding one more sounds overwhelming to you. "What if we added more of Juan's family to the wedding guest list so they'll already be in town, and the next day we can all relax with something much more casual? It sounds...kind of perfect, actually."

“I think that Juan would like that. I thinks it’s perfect.” Their friendship had grown even closer and Juan had confided he wanted more time with his family. It’s the perfect opportunity. “We can book out the inn, right?” He asks you. “And get more hotel rooms, of course.” He chuckles. “My mom has already said she wants to stay here but the Watergate Hotel is calling her name.”

"We could have Connie's birthday here?" You raise an eyebrow to Syd in question. "We'll be surrounded by family and friends and you'll barely have to roll out of bed to get here." The Badillo house is close by and you and Marcus will be more or less in the inn's backyard.

"Comfort food, family event, and very casual." Sydney laughs, but she is nodding her head. "Sean has been a great sous chef. I know he can handle that even with my nitpicky ass hovering over everything."

“It sounds like we have a plan.” Marcus agrees. “So I think our wedding day needs to be the day before little Connie’s birthday.”

"September ninth." Of course you and Sydney say it at the same time, grinning at each other. Constance was born in the wee hours of the tenth.

"That means it will be a long weekend for people. It will be good to give them the date well in advance." It will be beautiful, is what it will be. Beautiful, and fun, and an occasion well worth celebrating.

**

His suit and your dress in the trunk of the car, Marcus steers towards the venue happily. “So we start getting set up, the band should be there first, right?” He asks. “Get the sound check done before the other vendors?”

"Yeah, that's what we planned on." A White House photographer will also be on hand, documenting the event for any press that Annette deems appropriate. You've left it entirely to her. "Melanie will be there to direct traffic, and she has a room for us to change and keep personal affects in."

“My parents are landing in about an hour.” He reminds you. “They will be out here to help and generally support us as soon as they drop bags in the hotel.”

"Selena, Leo, and Clark are all meeting us out here around the same time. They're riding together." The contingent from Dallas that has moved to DC in the last few months have banded together well and are all excited to join the next board game night. Bringing your friends and his together has been exceptionally easy.

“Perfect.” Marcus chuckles. “It’s a good thing the bartender will be showing up next.” He jokes. “Seriously, if we need to get any last minute items, mom said she’ll send dad.”

"I'm just glad we decided not to do flowers." It had been Junie's idea. During the Friday night dinner after you had booked Monticello, the discussion at the table had turned to decor and when your mother's ideas for florals got overcomplicated it had been your sister who suggested having a few large, live plants amongst the tents and lights and candles on the tables instead. "Melanie pulled those potted plants and light plans out of nowhere and I love her for it."

“I think it will make the wedding even more special.” Marcus admits. “Flowers don’t need to be at every event.”

"The rose garden is going to be spectacular." Your genuine excitement for that is infectious enough that it makes Marcus beam brightly at you as he pulls his car into the large lot around the Monticello visitor center.

“Wow.” Marcus frowns slightly as he sees all the vendor vans. “Are they early?”

"They must be." You check the time on your phone and frown to see that it is a full forty–five minutes before the caterer is set to arrive, and two of the vans nearby are marked with a florist's logo. "Maybe it's for one of the other locations on the property? Melanie did say they had multiple events tonight."

“That has to be it.” He agrees, although he knows the other venues have their own designated parking on the other side. He sends you a smile as he parks. “Let’s go get started.”

Melanie is waiting for you inside, smiling and ready in the lobby. “It’s so good to see you!” The nice thing about her is that she seems to actually mean it. “Your caterers just got here, and the florists are starting to unload. We’re doing great for time.”

“Uh...” Marcus shakes his head and looks towards you. “We don’t have a florist.” He reminds her. “The potted plants were what we decide, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure that the plan hadn’t changed.

"And I confirmed the arrival time with the caterers this morning. They aren't supposed to be here for another hour." Your worried eyes meet Marcus's and then Melanie's. "I think there has been some kind of mix–up."

Her brow furrows for a moment and she nods. “I will go make sure they aren’t supposed to be on the other side of the mansion.” She decides, sure that it’s a simple mistake.

"I'm sure it's nothing." The words come out of your mouth but you aren't convinced. Instead, you squeeze Marcus's hand in yours and head to the small room beside Melanie's office to store your party clothes and purse until you're ready to change.

“I’m sure it will all be worked out.” Marcus promises, reassuring you even if he has his own worry. “Come on, let’s go see the space.”

Once your things are stowed away, the pair of you step outside to the lawn to check out the tents, lights, and plants as they should be finished being put up. But instead of seeing potted plants and fairy lights there are sunflower arrangements and autumn harvest centerpieces stacked out on the banquet tables. Even the tables have the wrong color tablecloths – deep navy instead of the seasonal shade of red that you had picked out.

“Well, shit.” Marcus huffs, clearly seeing the problem and he quickly steps over to the young lady that is directing the flowers. “Excuse me.” He interrupts politely. “I’m afraid there is a problem.”

"There is?" She looks spooked, almost like a deer in the headlights with the large arrangement of flowers in her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure–who are you, exactly?"

“Sorry.” He’s always going to fall back to manners, so he offers her an apologetic smile. “I’m Marcus Pike and this is my fiancée.” He introduces you. “We are setting up for our engagement party tonight and we don’t have floral arrangements.” He explains kindly. “Are you sure you have the right spot here? I know there’s several events happening tonight.”

“Oh!” She laughs in obvious relief and digs in her pocket to pull out some folded paperwork to show you both. “I think you’re in the wrong place, Mr. Pike. We’re setting up for Mr. Chase.”

Fuck. Marcus feels you tense beside him, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the wrong place.” He tells her kindly aware that she is a vendor caught in the middle of something. It’s not her fault. “My fiancée and I rented out this space for tonight. Mr. Chase must have gotten his dates mixed up.” Marcus is well aware that isn’t the case, but he won’t air dirty laundry in front of her. “Here.” He pulls out his own contract for the venue that he had slipped into his pocket, always one to cover his bases and he’s glad that paid off.

“That’s weird…” Looking at both contracts, the florist frowns heavily and offers you both an apologetic expression. “Let me get my boss. Hang on one second,” she says before scurrying away.

“Shit.” Marcus hisses, turning towards you. “What are the odds it’s a mix up on Melanie’s part?” He knows the answer, and so do you.

“Zero. That woman is so meticulous it makes Juan look scatterbrained.” Closing your eyes against the frustrated outburst that is pushing on your chest right now, you lean into Marcus and exhale slowly. “I honestly can’t believe he’d go this far.”

“Just plaster on that amazing customer service charm and I will dazzle them with kindness.” He murmurs, leaning in and kissing your temple. “We have the contract for the venue.”

“I love you.” Murmured words aren’t enough to keep your heart from pounding with anxiety, but his arms around you are. Marcus hugs you tight and you just find yourself wondering what the hell happened to turn Sam into this vindictive monster…or if he was always this way and you never knew him at all.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He promises. “It’s just a small bump in the road.”

“I hope you’re right.” It’s terrifying to think that things might go so entirely wrong so early. It isn’t something that sits well with you, especially not when you have almost a hundred people coming tonight.

“It will.” He promises again, kissing your forehead again. “We have a legal contract.”

A serious looking woman with short gray hair and a clipboard comes back with the girl who had scurried away, and she introduces herself only to Marcus with forceful authority. "I understand we have some confusion on our hands?"

“Yes madam.” Marcus shows her the contract that Melanie had given him, clearly stating the space and date were his and gives her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid your client is mistaken.”

"I'm sure that's not right." The prim woman doesn't even look at the paperwork that is being presented to her. "The Congressman was very specific in his planning and we are right on time in setting up for tonight."

“The Congressman was mistaken.” Marcus insists, a little more firmly. “The First Daughter signed this contract to rent this space tonight for her engagement party. Which the President will be in attendance for.” Titles seem to impress this woman, so he throws out a few that are sure to get her attention.

"Let's see if we can't get all of this sorted out." Melanie has appeared, looking frazzled but quickly recomposing herself with a young man in tow behind her. "It seems that our event staff did not verify paperwork for the caterer or florist when you arrived." She offers the gray–haired woman a professional smile, but you get the impression that the kid behind her with his tail tucked between his legs is going to get his ass kicked for this mistake. "May I see both sets of reservations, please? I'm sure we can get this cleared up quickly."

Marcus steps back and lets Melanie take over, sure that she will be able to clear things up quickly. He turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm not sure what went wrong." After looking over both contracts, Melanie holds tight to both and looks between her actual clients and the florist who apparently should not be here. "But unfortunately, Congressman Chase never reserved this date or location with my office, did not make any payment on the space, and certainly is not hosting an event here tonight. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave, I'm afraid. We do have a contracted event here tonight and our security will be very tight."

“I’m sorry?” Blinking owlishly, the prim woman shakes her head, obviously not used to being told no. “Congressman Chase has a campaign event here tonight. Many important people will be here.”

"More important than the President of the United States?" Melanie challenges, not backing down. What she does, though, is turn to you and Marcus and apologize. "I will take care of this. If you would like to have a seat inside, I will absolutely come and let you know when everything is resolved."

“Thank you.” Marcus takes your arm and leads you towards the building so Melanie can deal with things. “You might want to call that White House press person.” He murmurs quietly. “I have a feeling Chase did this on purpose.”

"I don't know what the hell we did to deserve this," you huff, pulling out your phone to call Annette. She's probably on her way to the venue already but you know she was coming with her husband so hopefully he's driving and she can talk.

“I think he’s got a fucking screw loose.” Marcus mutters, shaking his head at the increasing antics the congressman is pulling.

When the call connects you have to swallow a sound of relief mixed with frustration. Getting to talk to Annette is a relief but you're so frustrated you could scream. "Annette? It's Birdie. We, uh...we have a situation. It appears that Sam Chase has attempted to double book the same venue as us for tonight."

“Oh dear.” The soft sigh is one of practiced patience, having put out many a fire in her day. “It’s not a mistake on the venue?” She clarifies.

"No." You shake your head as though she can see you, but it's just an emotional reaction. "Miss O'Neil is certain there was no mix up in the booking, but there are vendors here to set up for a campaign event that is definitely not supposed to be happening." Glancing up at Marcus beside you, you sigh softly. "Marcus and I suspect that Sam is trying some kind of indecipherable stunt. To make us look heartless or something equally outlandish. Like we stole his venue, I guess."

“Gotcha.” Her voice is slightly terse but it’s not towards you. “I will start making calls to his office right now. You just hang tight and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

"Thank you, Annette." Your eyes close against the sinking feeling in your stomach that the night is starting to unravel at an alarming rate. "We'll see you soon."

You end the call and Marcus reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He soothes you, quietly.

“She’s almost here.” The urge to cry out of sheer frustration is strong, and you bury yourself in Marcus’s chest for strength. “What in the hell did we do to deserve this?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, unable to fathom the malice behind the way Sam Chase is operating. “But we will show him that we are not to be messed with.”

“How?” The question is incredulous, but it’s honestly because you’re feeling so at sea with confusion in this whole situation. “By running to my mommy about it? The President can’t kick a Congressman out of power for being a dick to her daughter.”

“By showing him that he holds no power over us.” It’s a bit unsatisfying, being the bigger person and not using his own status to make like difficult for Congressman Chase, but he wants to be above reproach when shit hits the fan. And he has no doubt it will.

“Ugh, that’s so unsatisfying,” you groan, unknowingly echoing his thought exactly. It’s a small mercy to have the same thought, though, and you both laugh. “I want to nail him to the wall but there’s no crime against being an asshole.”

“I know, but he wants to get under your skin.” He reminds you softly. “That’s the entire point of this, I think.”

“Well he’s succeeded.” As much as you hate to admit it, he really has. He’s made you feel guilty and selfish for wanting to celebrate your love with your soulmate, which isn’t fair in the least.

“I know.” Marcus kisses your forehead again. “I’ve never wanted to hit someone more in my entire life.” He huffs. “Not even Patrick Jane when he convinced Teresa to choose him.”

"And that guy was an asshole," you huff, having heard the entire story from Marcus early on in your relationship.

“Yeah…he really is.” He chuckles and pulls away slightly to look into your eyes. “He did me a favor.”

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." His kindness and his support mean the world to you, and the ugly realization that if Marcus had not appeared in your life like a whirlwind that you might still be with Sam? It stings your heart in a way that isn't quite aching or envy but that smacks of bitter regret.

“Just being the most wonderful woman in the world.” He teases, nudging his nose against yours.

"Hardly." Or, at least, it doesn't feel like it right now. But you sigh, letting yourself settle against him and accepting the kiss he offers you before you stand straight again. "We should change a little early," you decide after a moment. "Present a united front of joy instead of looking like we're not quite prepared."

“Whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” He will follow your lead of course, wanting you to feel in charge. Especially with the turn of events.

"I think it might be better." Or, at least, it well help you feel less at sea. Because right now you just feel like you're floundering in uncertainty. "Especially if we have to deal with Sam directly."

“Do you think that he will actually show up?” His brows lift and he doesn’t like that prospect at all. Sam has been exhibiting dangerous behavior, even if he can’t prove it has been him behind the vicious rumors.

"At this point I'm not really sure what to expect at all." But confidence comes from all places, and if right now it comes from putting on the beautiful dress that Alex and David helped you pick out and going out there holding Marcus's hand? Then so be in. Sam does not get to ruin to night, and he does not get to ruin your joy. "But I guess I would rather be mentally prepared for the worst."

“Whatever happens…” Marcus smiles at you proudly. “I’m going to be right there beside you.”

**

It takes nearly a half an hour to calm down, change clothes, and do your make up, but once you’re ready you head back outside with Marcus to find Agent Bailey waiting for you in the lobby and a commotion outside. “What’s going on?” You ask, though you’re afraid for the answer and not even sure if she will know.

“Miss D’Amario is trying to get the Congressman on the phone,” Agent Bailey explains. “Your vendors are starting to arrive and Melanie had them prepping so they can set up the second the others are cleared away.”

“Vanessa is here?” Marcus looks around warily and spots her standing off to the side looking slightly frazzled as she furiously types on her phone.

“Awesome.” The obvious sarcasm in your voice comes out in a huff. Your exes always being together is more like a Nightmare Team than a Dream Team.

“I’m going to talk to her.” Marcus decides, done with them upsetting you.

“I’m going to stay nearby so that I can intercept anyone who arrives,” you decide. Going up on your toes to give him a kiss, you brush the sharp lapel off his blue suit and offer him your most encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, Slugger.”

Marcus smiles at your reassurance, but it drops into a frown when he turns and walks towards Vanessa. He’s tired of the games and now, he’s going to face the problem head on. “What is going on, Vanessa?” He demands when he reaches her side. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“What’s going on is crossed wires.” She doesn’t look up from her phone. She doesn’t need to. She still knows Marcus Pike’s voice. “I don’t know how this woman could possibly have booked us both tonight and now she’s playing dumb and getting defensive about it.”

“She’s not playing dumb, but I’m disappointed you are.” Marcus states flatly, sighing softly. “This little game you and Chase are playing needs to stop.”

“I’m not playing dumb.” Vanessa defends, brow furrowed in frustration as she looks up at Marcus after hitting the send button on her text. “The Congressman booked the location himself. All the other vendors were booked by me personally. We’re supposed to be here.”

“Did he forward you the contract and emails?” Her reaction is more honest than he expected and the fact that Sam booked the venue makes him wonder if she was kept in the dark. He pulls out the contract he had tried to show the vendor earlier. “Where is this if Chase actually was double booked?”

“He has the contract. I’m trying to get ahold of him to get a copy right now.” She huffs, frustration and uncertainty lining the worries creases in her brow. “Why couldn’t you two have just had your little party at her hotel anyway? Isn’t that what the place is for? You don’t need the clout of a place like Monticello.”

“Why should she always have parties where she’s doing most of the work? This is our engagement party.” Marcus fires back, unable to believe the condescension in her tone. “What do you have against her, Vanessa? You ended things with me not the other way around. And I thought we ended on good terms.”

“She’s a snob. And dishonest, too boot.” Vanessa doesn’t hold back, obviously pushed to the edge of whatever manners she usually has by the situation at hand. “Almost an entire year in the campaign trail as her mother’s Golden Child preaching freedom of affection and holding Sam up to be the next Jack Kennedy and then she flips her entire platform on a dime when she claims to find her soulmate. It’s pandering, Marcus. And I honestly thought you were better than that.”

“I am her soulmate, Vanessa.” He murmurs quietly. “We didn’t know when we met. I figured it out, that night you broke up with me. Hell, she knew before I did and didn’t say anything because she was with Chase.” He sighs. “So freedom of affection means you can’t choose your soulmate?” He asks. “What about you? You chose your soulmate when you broke up with me. Should I have been spiteful?”

“I always wanted my soulmate.” Vanessa defends, standing up a little straighter and squaring her shoulders. As it that stance somehow gives her a moral high ground. “I support him, and take care of him, and do whatever he needs. That is what love is.”

It clicks, like a bolt of lightning. “It’s Sam, isn’t it?” He asks. “Your soulmate is Sam Chase. That’s why you are doing this.”

The frown on her face flattens into a thin line, unwilling to say a single thing against the man she’s been loyal to for years now. “If I can’t give him the position he wants, I can at least help him make up for what he’s lost,” she reasons, not thinking for a moment that Marcus would understand. He isn’t ambitious the way Sam is. He doesn’t want to lead. To mold an entire nation. Dating the First Daughter was supposed to get him there in leaps and bounds.

He shakes his head sadly, hating to see that Vanessa is blind to what is happening. Willingly looking the other way. “Are you happy?” He asks. “Not being enough?” He folds the contract up and puts it back in his pocket. “If losing access to the White House on a personal level is a detriment, then he’s not a very good politician.” Marcus turns around and starts to walk back towards you.

“No one gets into the White House without knowing someone.” She tells his back, tone laced with bitterness because, No of course she isn’t happy, but why does her ex boyfriend have to be the one to point that out to her? “Just like you don’t get to Hollywood or a record deal or a place in an Ivy League without it.”

He doesn’t answer her, knowing that nothing he says will get through to her. She’s blinded by her loyalty to Sam and her utter devotion to the idea that she should support her soulmate no matter what. It’s a twisted logic and he feels bad for her. When they were together, she was a sweet and earnest woman, looking forward to having a family and building a life with her soulmate.

When Marcus comes back to your side he looks sad rather than angry, and you frown all the more deeply for it. “What’s going on?” You ask gently, letting him lean into your side for comfort. “What did she say?”

“Well….I figured out why Vanessa is so blindly helping Chase with his revenge.” He sighs and glances back at the other woman. “She’s his soulmate.”

“Ah shit.” It was somehow in the back of your mind the whole time, you realize, and now that he’s said it there are puzzle pieces that click into place all too easily. “So this…all of this really is just about the fact that I dumped him?” It makes your skin crawl to think about, a grotesque and unsettling feeling that you know is going to haunt you far longer than you want to admit.

“He wants the White House one day.” He reminds you. “I’m almost positive that he either made promises to people because of having access to the President, or was using that relationship to bolster his career.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel used and disgusting at all.” You cringe, eyes set down on the sturdy flooring beneath your feet. It’s worse than disgusting, actually. It’s downright humiliating. You’d fallen in love with his act. Bought it hook, line, and sinker. Meeting Marcus may have snapped you out of it, but you had still be entirely fooled for a year.

“Hey.” Marcus reaches for you, rubbing your arms and pulling you closer. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart.” He hums. “Chase is a man who put on an act to get what he wants. He has fooled plenty of people.”

“Please know that none of this is because I missed him or still had feelings for him.” Careful not to get makeup on his shirt, you tuck into Marcus’s embrace and breathe in the strength of him. “I’m embarrassed at being taken in so completely. And love you impossibly more for being such a good, honest man.”

“I don’t think you feel anything but heartbroken that he could feign affection for his own personal career gain.” He promises. He would have thought it was because of his feelings for you that he was reacting so badly to this, except for what Vanessa had told him. “Even if you still had feelings for him, I would never expect you to turn off a year of emotions like a switch.” He’s secure enough in your love that there is not any reason to doubt you or be jealous.

“Whatever I felt for him started dimming the second I met you,” you assure him. Even though you and Marcus are strong in the love you have for each other, a bit of reassurance never goes amiss. “More than anything I’m upset with myself for being so blind to his true intentions.”

“Honey, you can’t always see the darkness in someone’s heart.” He reminds you, not wanting you to feel guilty. You have nothing to be upset about. Your intentions have always been good.

“So what do we do now?” He seems to have the answers tonight and there is comfort in that — on top of which, he is the one who talked to Vanessa. “Is she backing down? I don’t want to have to have an altercation.”

“I don’t think she knows what is going on, to be honest.” He admits, looking back at the very flustered woman. “I told her that if it was a venue mix up, the congressman would have a contract.”

“Vanessa does all his bookings.” You look up at him in confusion. “Shouldn’t she have the contract?”

“She said he booked the venue and she booked everything else.” He explains, shaking his head. “It’s pure fucking malice.”

“He never booked it.” The realization kicks you in the gut with the force of a wild stallion. “He’s going to go to the press with a story about us stealing his event venue to make us look bad.”

“What better way to do that, with all the press already here for his ‘event’?” His smile is brittle and humorless.

“I heard the press.” Annette comes swinging around the corner and into view like she’s late for a cue on stage. “Tell me what’s going on, kids. I’ll handle it from here.”

Marcus looks at you for the go–ahead and when you nod slightly, he turns to the White House press agent. “We think Sam Chase did this deliberately.” He explains quietly, not wanting the conversation to go beyond the three of you. “Vanessa D’Amario is his personal assistant and apparently his soulmate.” The older woman’s eyes widen in surprise. “She says that Chase personally booked this venue and she booked the vendors. I think he set this up, knowing we were considering this place to force some kind of public ‘they are pushing their weight around’ accusation.” When it’s voice out loud, it sounds like some kind of conspiracy theory, but he knows it’s true.

“Interesting…” Annette looks between the two of you and offers you both what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “If all of that is true, which sounds alarmingly plausible, by the way…well, it means doing a little politicking of our own. Are you two going to be okay if a little press leak happens ahead of your party?”

“Whatever we need to do.” Marcus agrees easily and then looks at you. “What do you think, sweetheart? I think we’ve been on the defensive long enough. Time to play a little offense.”

“There was going to be press coverage for this party anyway, so why not?” You shrug slightly “Do whatever you think will help, Annette.”

“I’m on it,” she promises, disappearing again in a flash with a wink and a thumbs up.

“Well, if anything, we can prove when we sent out the party invites.” He reminds you with a shrug.

“Annette seems to have it in hand.” The best you can do right now is shrug and check your watch. “Your parents, my siblings, and the first carload of our friends should be here soon.”

“We are a little bit behind, but nothing we can’t deal with.” He promises.

“At least I can hear the band doing sound check.” That in and of itself is a huge relief. It means things won’t be too behind schedule. “Let’s go see who’s here.”

“Of course.” Marcus grins at you. “Maybe we stop by the bar and grab a drink to calm our nerves.”

“Slow sipping,” you agree with a nod of your head. “It makes me extra relieved that we have those charcuterie tables as part of our appetizers. Even if the caterers get held up with the other things, people can graze.”

“You loved that idea and I have to admit that it’s a good one.” He steers you towards the lovely little alcove that the beer, wine and cocktails will be handed out from. The bartender is already set, since the venue provides ice and he is handing you drinks in no time.

The first to arrive are Marcus’s parents. Matthew and Donna practically smother the two of you in hugs immediately, so glad to be here to celebrate that they’re buzzing. How handsome Marcus looks in his suit, how lovely your dress is, the perfect warm autumn night for the party, they’re just delighted to be there and a balm of positivity over your soul.

Marcus points his father to the bar while his mother coos over you with a proud smile. Donna Pike absolutely adored you, it was evident from the way she always asked about you and reached out to you without him as an intermediate, wanting to forge a relationship with you separate from her son.

“We’re so glad you were able to come up on short notice.” It’s a relief (one of many tonight) to have such a good relationship with your fiancé’s mother, and you walk with Donna toward the bar with Marcus walks ahead with his father. “We both would rather have waited on the party than do it without you here.”

“The good thing about what I do is that I can teleconference when needed.” It’s not something she employs all the time, but her only child’s engagement party warranted the change of pace.

“We’re grateful.” Especially now that their presence is a calming balm over both you and Marcus. “And I thought…while you’re here…I was hoping to ask a small favor of you?”

“Anything.” The answer is immediate and doesn’t need any consideration. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I was hoping you would be willing to come to lunch with me tomorrow,” you glance up at her with a small smile. “At the White House. For a little wedding planning.” It’s both to include your future mother–in–law in planning that she will not be close by enough to really take part in, but also to have your family around you for an afternoon. “My grandmother’s wedding dress has been passed down and I’d like for you to be able to see it. You know, before any decisions or shopping or anything happens.”

“Oh…” she exhales softly, tears immediately making her eyes water and she nods. “Absolutely. It would be— of course.” She insists. “I would be delighted to come to such an important event.”

“I know it will be hard to have you included in most aspects of the planning,” you explain, wanting to make sure she understands how much you’ve thought about this. “So I wanted to have to you included in the most important ones.”

“And I would have understood if you hadn’t included me at all.” She folds you into another warm hug. “Thank you. And I have something for you.”

“Oh?” In all the commotion you can’t think what it would be — after all, you and Marcus had specified that gifts were not necessary in your invitations for tonight.

She pulls back and reaches into her purse for a card. "I know that we aren't supposed to bring gifts, but..." She looks fondly to where her husband and son are at the bar talking and smiling. "It's the groom's family's responsibility to take care of the rehearsal day and I want you to plan exactly what you want."

“Donna.” She knows very well that you and Marcus are doing well in your careers. Well enough to be able to build a house and plan for a family and all sorts of other things. “You really didn’t have to.”

"Yes we did." She tells you with a small smirk. "You have made Marcus completely happy and that is worth more to me than the national debt your mother inherited."

There is the barest moment of pause before you snort, and you and Donna both bust out giggling. “Well, thank you.” You’ll open the envelope later with Marcus, but for now you give her a very tight hug. “I’m sure everything will go smoothly. It’s just the nerves of everything.”

“Anything else we can help you with?” There’s the briefest flash of unhappiness on your face before you hug her and she knows it’s nothing between you and Marcus that caused it.

"Not at all." Their being here is wonderful, and they're helping financially when they're not obligated to. That is more than enough. "Why don't we grab you a drink and we can take a look around. The view from here is beautiful."

“You have chosen a gorgeous venue.” She marvels, even as the people working continue to bustle around to put the event together.

After procuring a glass of the same spiked hot apple cider that you're drinking for Donna, you turn to look around the lawn with her and actually let yourself smile. "We were here for a day out after our goddaughter was born and we fell in love with it," you tell her. "It was perfect, so we dove in and talked to their event coordinator that day."

“It’s a mixture of homey and sophisticated.” She admires. “I think it’s very fitting for the two of you.”

"I think that's sort of the vibe we're going for with everything," you admit, sipping your drink beside her. "Comforting and fun Americana, but a little sophisticated."

“I think that you’ve nailed it, love.” She agrees, taking a sip of her drink and humming in approval.

"I'm really glad you're here." And while you know that isn't something a lot of people say to their in–laws, you count yourself as lucky. "And I'm just as excited for tomorrow as I have been for tonight."

“I am too.” She admits with a grin. “I am just happy to be included.”

**

On the edge of the lawn, nearest the parking lot, Annette has intercepted the first batch of friends and family to arrive with a plan and a spark in her eyes. "Alex! June!" She knows the First Children well, and Sydney Badillo as well, flagging down the new mother and her husband when they get out of their car. "I'm very glad to see you all."

“I wonder what this is about.” Juan murmurs to his wife, taking her hand after he rounds the front of the car. “I don’t know.” Sydney frowns slightly, knowing that you hadn’t said much about Annette doing the publicity for the party, but it’s unusual to have her meet them out in the parking lot. “But we will find out.” She murmurs before sending the older woman a warm smile. “Annette! Lovely to see you.”

Alex’s soulmate David, his brother Noah, and Junie’s soulmate all pile out of the cars as well, followed closely by the arrival of Marcus’s cousin Selena and his friends that had moved to DC. This is Annette’s army assembled, and she smiles at the large group. “I wonder if I could ask a favor of all of you?” She poses, knowing there will be a few skeptics in any group. “We’ve had a little mix up here tonight but everything will go smoothly will your help.”

“What happened?” Alex demands, aware more than Junie about all the negative press surrounding you and Marcus lately. He and David both agree it’s a smear campaign.

“It’s not necessary to go into deep detail,” Annette insists. She doesn’t want anyone being pointed or cruel tonight. “But there is someone trying to claim that Birdie and Marcus stole this venue from them for an event tonight. They don’t have any proof that they booked it, of course, but I suspect they’ll try to go to the media with a story for the morning. So I was hoping I could get all of you onto your social media accounts tonight with positive posts from the party and a few mentions about how excited you’ve been for this?”

“Done.” Junie immediately agrees. “I’ve got photos of the invitations to the party when I opened them. I’ll post those with the ‘it’s finally the day!’ theme.”

“We’re on it. A hundred percent.” Alex agrees, glancing up at David and getting a nod from his partner. They don’t have to be told to know who is behind this, and they’re going to do their part to stop the stupidity.

“Do we have an official Insta for Birdie’s wedding?” Junnie asks. “Or should we tag mom’s White House account?”

“Definitely tag the White House.” Annette nods, but she chewed over the question. “But we should do a tag for the event, and maybe a tag for the First Kids? What do you think?”

“It is our sister.” Alex muses. “We should also do a tag for the engagement. Something like fairytale2017 or something as equally disgustingly cute.”

“Maybe we could think of something unique and a little catchy?” Sydney suggests, pulling out her phone. “Something we can use through all the events?”

“Birdie&Marcus’TilEternity?” Junie offers, a slightly dreamy smile as she thinks about soulmates. Since discovering her own, she’s become more of a romantic.

“It’s a little long…” Alex chews on the thought. “FirstWife2018? Like a reference to being the First Daughter?”

Sydney laughs softly, shaking her head. “It would work,” she admits with another laugh. “Except he’s been married before. So technically she’s the second wife.”

“We will come up with something.” Annette agrees. “May I text you all when it’s decided.”

“Of course.” Selena nods her head along with several of the others. “We already have a group chat for planning their combined bachelor/bachelorette party. We can do a version of that group that has you in it, too? In case you need us again.”

“That would be perfect.” Annette agrees. “I will not text without a good reason, I promise.”

There is a little bit of back and forth conversation, but Alex adds Annette’s number to a new group chat with everyone involved and renames the new group Mythbusters with a giggle.

“Oh that’s good.” Sydney snorts when the welcome text pings through and quickly responds with who she is so Annette can associate numbers with names.

“It’s the Congressman, isn’t it?” Selena asks, saving Annette’s number to her phone like the others.

Her brow wings up, nothing getting by the friends and family you have, but she doesn’t answer in the affirmative. “We would just like to get ahead of any potential issues a quickly as possible.”

“That’s yes, in White House Staffer,” June translates for anyone who isn’t familiar. “And I can finally say with glee that something about that guy always felt off to me.”

“I tolerated him.” Sydney admits. “I know Birdie would huff, but he just always was so smug. I wanted to slap him.”

Alex offers here a high five for that and Juan nods in agreement while Annette bites her lip from saying anything unprofessional. “How about something cheeky?” She suggests after a moment, when the murmurs about disliking Congressman Chase have subsided. “The press called her the First Princess after she and Agent Pike were photographed dancing together. Maybe we can do something with that?”

“#PrincessPike2018.” Sydney supplies immediately and Juan chuckles. “They will love it and she will be a tiny bit embarrassed when it trends.”

“Which is perfect.” Selena agrees. She’s taken to this new group of friends like a duck to water, sense of humor included. “We can also do a plain and simple #PikeWedding2018 for all the event photos we’ll end up posting.”

Juan nods. “Well, the official day should have the hashtag #WhiteHouseWedding2018.” He offers.

“Perfect.” Annette agrees with that right away. It’s good social media coverage in every way. Let’s use #PrincessPike for anything relating to Birdie as a bride, #PikeWedding for planning and events, and then #WhiteHouseWedding for the day.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Everyone nods as Sydney answers. “We will start posting things now. Tagging them and Monticello for the engagement party.”

“I appreciate all your help.” Annette steps away, as if she is releasing the group into the wild. “We’ll nip this in the bud and have fun doing it.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Junie asks seriously, her hand in her soulmates and looking determined.

“Help your sister have a great time.” Annette tells her seriously. “Right now she’s a bit stressed, and nervous. Just go celebrate with your family and she’ll feel better being surrounded by it all.”

“That’s easy to do.” Alex grins. “Come on, Junie.” He chuckles. “Let’s go lovingly bully our older sister.”

**

"Baby, come here. You have to try one of these." The catering company had agreed to tweak their stuffed mushroom recipe to meet the one created by the Kennedy family's personal chef as written down in his cookbook, and the result is absolutely stellar. "Tell me this isn't the best stuffed mushroom you've ever had in your life."

He hasn't strayed from your side for more than a few steps, so it's easy to come closer. Grinning as he opens up for you to feed him one of the stuffed mushrooms, closing his eyes in utter delight as the flavors burst on his tongue. "Oh god, we are keeping the leftovers, right?" He moans.

"Absolutely." You grin and giggle a little that his face matches yours perfectly. They're little bites of heaven. "I have half a mind to have these at the wedding, too."

"We should." He agrees quickly, picking up another bite off the table and offering it to you since you sacraficed one of your mushrooms for him.

Without looking, he has grabbed one of the little cornbread cups filled with pulled pork with has been your other favorite bite at the beginning of the party. You hum around the delicious choice and sigh happily. "Everyone seems to be having fun. And the band is great, thankfully."

"They are good." Marcus has been impressed with the range of songs they can play, but it's to be expected for a good wedding band. "I'm so glad that tonight has gone off with little more than a slight hitch." He leans in and kisses your cheek. "Everything worked out."

"Fingers crossed that the rest of the night runs as smoothly." It's almost time to start dinner, which will surely come with a couple of speeches but should be a beautiful meal. This catering company is fantastic and the two sisters that run it deserves as much recognition as you can possibly heap on them. They, along with the band, will hopefully get lots of coverage from the White House.

"It will." Marcus doesn't mention that there is the best security that could possibly be provided by the Secret Service at this event. He pecks your lips. "Tonight is amazing and it will continue to be so."

"Are you sure about that?" Having not seen her in a while, it is a surprise when you glance past his shoulder and see Vanessa approaching from the corner of the lawn.

Marcus hisses a quiet sigh and squeezes your hand. "I'll ask her to leave and then I'll have someone escort her out." He tells you quietly, waiting for you to agree with a quick nod before he moves to intercept her.

"I come in peace." Vanessa insists, holding up a hand briefly as though it were a white flag.

"I'm not sure that I believe that." He admits, not calling security over simply to avoid a scene. If he can get her to leaving willingly, it would look better.

"I just came to tell you that my vendors are packed up and we're leaving the premises." She's feeling deflated and frankly embarrassed by being stuck in the middle without any kind of life preserver. The shouting match she had with Sam over the phone inside the Visitor Center did not help. At this point she just wants to go home and open a bottle of wine.

His brow lifts in surprise, sure that she would once again insist that this was their venue. "I have to say....I'm surprised that no guests of the Congressman have shown up." He comments quietly. "It's…almost as if they weren't invited."

"Please don't prod at me." Vanessa huffs, shaking her head slightly. At this point being kicked while she's down would be deserved but humiliating. "I just spent forty minutes making phone calls and having arguments. I have no idea what happened, but it's–it is what it is."

"I'm sorry." Marcus apologizes and bites his lip for a moment. "Why don't you join us for a drink?" He offers, motioning towards the bar. "I'm sure you could use one?" He wants to know what has transpired but he also wants to prove that, despite everything, you and Marcus are not her enemy.

"That...doesn't feel appropriate." It's kind of him, but Marcus is kind. That is part of him. "You guys enjoy your party. It...it looks nice. And the hashtags are a cute touch. Very media friendly." Vanessa sighs again and her deflation happens all over again. "I should...I should go. There are campaign events to plan. Even if this one sort of...imploded."

"Listen...." Marcus frowns slightly and looks over at where you are watching him with avid interest. "I know that we are kind of on opposite sides of the sand, but Birdie and I— we aren't— we don't wish you and the congressman anything more than happiness." He offers softly.

"It's all a little complicated," she admits, though she doesn't relish it. "Sam feels so strongly about this whole situation having two sides but I have to admit that I feel like that attitude is starting to do more harm than good."

"I think it is too." He agrees, nodding and offering her a small smile. "If you need anything..." The offer dies, unspoken, but it's there in case she needs it. Vanessa bites her lip and looks conflicted so Marcus takes that as his cue. "Have a good night, Vanessa." He offers before he turns back to return to your side.

"Is everything okay?" There wasn't any shouting or any real fighting that you could see, but Marcus looks upset when he comes back to you.

“Yeah, it’s good.” Marcus reassures you, rubbing your shoulder and bringing you closer for a kiss. “I think – I hope – that she’s starting to see the light in this entire situation.”

“Some cracks in the shiny veneer of it all?” You feel bad honestly. Vanessa might be blindly loyal but she never seemed outright cruel to you.

“I think so.” He hums. “She desperately wanted her soulmate, so I think she justified a lot in her mind.”

“I feel so bad.” There are a lot of people in the world who suffer in different ways for want of their soulmate, and Vanessa might not be your favorite person but she still doesn’t deserve to have that kind of pain.

“I do too.” Marcus admits, but he shrugs. “No one ever said every soulmate match was good.”

“I’m just glad I have you.” Your arm around his waist and your head momentarily on his chest are so grounding and so incredible calming. Just because you could weather the storm of the old without him by your side doesn’t mean you ever, ever want to. Not anymore. Not now that you know how much better it can be. “I love you, Marcus. More than words.”

“You are part of me.” He promises. “My soul, my heart, my thoughts.” He smiles softly, unaware that the moment is being photographed and posted online with the captions declaring true love was real.

“I’m stealing that for my wedding vows,” you chuckle softly, admittedly because you’re so choked up in the moment.

“Steal away, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and sighs, letting the problems of the day fade and just reminding himself that everything is perfect now. He has you.

______

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My Masterlist!

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 14

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Nothing, really. Some conversations about money and clothing but this chapter is fairly smooth sailing. Summary: The wedding planning begins in earnest! Notes: For anyone following along on the chronic pain escapades, this coming week is surgery week! Hopefully this will be the last mountain to climb in the way of handling the issues at hand and we'll have just a little bit of time with smoother sailing.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

Planning a lunch for the day after the engagement party was very intentional, not wanting people to be short of sleep or hungover after celebrating the night before. What your mother has planned in as casual a manner as possible is a lunch for family and friends in the White House residence to help start the planning of your wedding. It’s favorite foods and enjoying yourselves. At least, that is the plan.

It’s noon on the dot when you and Agent Sisson walk into the Blue Room, and he happily leaves you to your lunch party. Agent Bailey has a much-deserved day off today and your secondary detail is just fine with leaving you to be guarded by the standing White House detail.

“Birdie, your party last night was magnificent.” Your mother rises quickly and moves to hug you. She had enjoyed the relaxed and festive atmosphere.

“I’m glad you had fun, Mom.” The hug is tight and short, but you squeeze each other before letting go. “We thought it went really well, too. The caterers were incredible.”

“They were.” She agrees. “Now, Marcus’s parents should be here any moment. Your father has already talked Matthew into a round of golf after lunch.” She huffs in amusement.

"Of course he did." That doesn't surprise you in the least, but you are glad to see that your father and Matthew Pike are getting along. When the Pikes had come to visit over the summer the two fathers had gotten on like gangbusters and it's continuing. "Sydney should be here soon, too. Juan is taking the baby to his mother's today for some bonding time." Looking around, there is no sign of your sister despite the table being set for the full party. 'Where's Junie?"

“She’s actually out.” Your mother tells you with a small smile. “She went out to breakfast with her new favorite person.” It’s absolutely wonderful how she has clicked with her soulmate and there is no way she would discourage that. “She gave up sleeping in to spend time with him.”

"Our little Junebug's in love." It stings a little that your baby sister won't be here for lunch and to talk about wedding things, but you definitely also understand the pull of wanting to be with your soulmate every possible moment.

“She is.” Your mother nods and touches your shoulder. “Much like you are. I expect her to come rushing in at the last minute, flustered from seeing him.”

"I guess Grammy's wedding dress is going to get a little bit of a workout." the idea makes you smile. Just the mere idea of it. Even if Junie decided she didn't want to wear the heirloom, it wouldn't truly matter. It's having the option that is meaningful.

“That is something that I wanted to talk to you about.” Your mother arches a brow delicately and smiles.

"What about?" You ask tentatively, desperately hoping she's not about to say that something has happened to it or that she doesn't want you to wear it for some odd reason.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about all of your weddings.” She admits. “I was thinking about offering Alex some of the train, if one of you wishes to remove it, in order to create a vest or something to be a part of his own wedding ensemble with he and David eventually marry. But I wanted to see what you and Junie think, since it will one day be held to pass down to your daughters.”

"Mom." Your eyes water immediately, one hand going to your chest, and you're nodding before you can even say anything else. "I think that might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love it, and Junie will too, I just know it."

“And maybe it will become a tradition with David and Alex’s kids, if they decide to have some.” She is so grateful you like the idea.

"It actually works perfectly with an idea I had," you admit, but a sound from down the hall cuts you off and you grin when you recognize the commotion. "I'll tell everyone together. That's definitely Sydney and Selena that I hear."

“Oh my god, I’m in the White House!” Selena cannot even contain the squeal as the door opens to admit them. “I’m such a history nerd, I just can’t.”

"We'll finally get you on a full White House tour one of these days, I promise." Selena has been meaning to and meaning to book a place on a tour since she moved to DC, but she's been busy and just hasn't nailed down the time. You file the reminder away for yourself and in the meantime you throw your arms around both friends. "I'm so glad you guys are here, oh my god."

“Where else would we be?” Sydney scoffs. “A private invitation to the White House is being framed and hung up on my wall.”

"There's going to be a bunch of them over the next year." Your laugh is full of relief, though, and you usher them both into the room. "Selena, you met my mother last night, right?"

“To be honest, I was too nervous to approach her.” She admits with a rueful shake of her head, obviously a little intimidated by the President of the United States being your mother.

"She's an absolute nerd," you assure Selena with a laugh. You grab her hand and tug her toward the center of the Blue Room. "Mom, you can see Syd's baby pictures in just a second." It's so incredibly sweet that in the last two minutes your mother has clamored to see pictures of baby Constance, but you bring Selena forward with you and smother a laugh. "I want you to meet Selena Pike. She's one of Marcus's cousins and we got attached at the hip while I was in Dallas."

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Your mother has several different smiles, but the one she gives Selena is a genuine, friendly smile that is reserved for family. “Don’t shake my hand.” She shakes her head when Selena offers a more formal greeting. “Family hugs.”

“Oh my god.” Selena breathes, in a way that makes it very clear that the full sentence is actually oh my god, I’m hugging the President, but she keeps her composure well enough and is beaming when she pulls back. “It’s such an honor,” she gushes, giddy and not caring to hide it.

“Well hopefully I won’t disappoint.” She gives Selena a wink and smiles as she practically vibrates.

“Absolutely not.” Selena assures her, certain that there won’t be any politics talked today beyond the invitation list. Today is about the wedding.

“While I know it will not be up to snuff with the amazing caterers that Birdie had last night, I hoped that having lunch would be an easy way to start things off.” Your mother informs them.

"I can't imagine your chef making anything less than stellar." Donna Pike strides into the room with a glowing smile, with your little sister by her side. "I'm so sorry. We got caught up for a minute. June was showing me something in the China Room."

June trails behind your future mother in law, beaming with the innocent hope to someone newly in love. “Sorry, I saw her at the gate and escorted her in.”

"Don't be sorry!" You sweep in and hug them both one at a time, glad to be able to squeeze the life out of your sister and see Donna happily smiling away. Everyone is here and today is meant to be relaxed and joyous.

“Our bride to be is looking radiant this morning.” Donna observes slyly. “Hopefully that means you have a clear plan on what you wish?”

"Marcus and I have talked through some of our early ideas," you pat your purse with pride. "I have a notebook dedicated to wedding planning and thought we could start talking things through over lunch."

“Very efficient.” Donna praises with an encouraging smile. “Now- let me go ahead and say that this is your show. What you want - goes.” She promises. “I will offer an opinion when you want one, but I would never want to be the kind of mother-in-law that views this as ‘her wedding’.”

"This is the White House's wedding." It isn't something that you regret or dread, though, and you turn to your mother with a smile. "And we're going to honor that as best we can, while still doing things our way."

“As long as you are happy with the results.” Your mother interjects. “Otherwise, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why don’t we all sit down and we can start talking?” You suggest, nodding to the table that has been set. “I don’t know about you guys but I slept late and didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah….slept.” Junie snorts with a knowing grin. “You and Markie couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the end of the night.”

“It was their engagement party,” Sydney reminds Junie, laughing her way to the table. There are place cards out with everyone’s names on them and little bud cases with a few flowers at each seat. “They’re allowed to be sickeningly cute. It comes with the territory.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’m happy for you, even if it’s eye-rollingly cliché.”

“Says the girl who basically came skipping into the room from spending the morning with her own soulmate.” You sit down at the table where your name is marked, delighted to have Syd on one side of you and Donna on the other. “You guys were sickeningly cute last night, too.”

She rolls her eyes and bites her lips for a moment before she sticks her tongue out at you.

"And on that note..." Like the big sister you are, you snicker playfully before turning your eyes across the table. "So Mom, what's for lunch?"

“Poached salmon with a lemon dill sauce, couscous and root vegetables .” Your mother hum. “Started off by a summer strawberry salad with candied pecans.”

There is a collective, happy groan from everyone at the table, and seconds later a member of the White House kitchen staff comes into the room with pitchers of water and iced tea for the table and another follows with the salad course. Dining in the White House is always a bit like a dance, and you love watching Selena's face as she experiences it for the very first time.

Junie looks towards you with a happy face as the salads are being brought in. “Have you decided to wear Grammie’s dress?”

"Starting with the big questions right away?" Well, you can't blame her for that. It will affect her, too, ultimately. "I have. I love Grammie's dress and I've dreamt about wearing it for years. But, Mom had an idea. And it would affect you, too."

“How would it affect me?” She asks curiously, picking up her fork and thanking the staff as they set a salad on her place setting.

"Mom had an idea to alter the dress," you explain as everyone starts to eat. "The train on Grammie's dress is long, and there is enough fabric there that...if we agreed we both wanted to...we could have a professional trim the skirt and use the fabric from the train to make a waistcoat for Alex for when he and David finally decide to get married."

“Oh that’s a wonderful idea!” Instantly in love with the sentiment, she nods eagerly. “I agree, completely.”

"I know we like different styles." The fact that she is on board with this immediately has both you and your mother beaming with bright smiles, and you sip your iced tea happily in between breaths. "But I like dresses a bit shorter than you do, and I'm taller. I bet if we had Grammie's dress taken up to be full-length on you, it would be about tea length on me."

She snorts slightly and nods. “You are taller than me, you giant.” She teases, shooting you a grin. “I love that idea. I know you’ve been mooning over a Jackie O style for a few weeks.”

“I do want to wear pearls,” you admit with a grin. Your cheeks warm with the slowly building hum of excitement that is actually starting to plan your wedding. “And Marcus and I talked about having a cake similar to the one the Kennedys had.”

“Typical.” She teases, falling in love with the idea immediately. “Do we know if the bakery that made the cake is still in operation? You would need a huge one. It could be another feather in their cap.”

“They are.” In fact, Marcus had looked it up within hours of having the thought and been nearly giddy to report it. “But they’re in Boston, so we would need to talk to them to see if they’re even able to do a cake for a DC wedding. If not, we thought we would just replicate the flavors as a nod to the original.”

Junie snorts and throws your mother a grin. “I think that a request for a wedding cake on White House stationary would be something framed and hung on the wall.” She offers, pointing her fork at her mother. “Or can that be done?”

“I’ll find out.” Your mother’s answering grin says she’ll find a way to make it happen if it is at all within her power. “If it can’t be done on White House stationary, the request will still have the First Family’s name on it.”

“We have a back up plan in case it’s unreasonable to ask,” you remind your mother. It isn’t worth throwing titles around over a cake. That’s not only silly, it would look very bad from an outside perspective.

“If it will cause an optic problem, we will handle it another way, but the wedding will be a White House function.” Your mother reminds you.

“Of course it will.” Your fork up another bite of your salad with a happy hum. “To that point: Mom, we’d like to have the ceremony in the Rose Garden if that’s okay with you.”

“Honestly?” She smiles at you. “I didn’t imagine you would want anywhere else.” She admits. “You have spent hours out there since I’ve changed my address.”

“Have you picked a date yet?” Donna asks, promoting you and Sydney to exchange a knowing smile.

“We did.” The fact that it’s starting to become a reality — this dream you’ve had for months now — makes you giddy in your seat. “Since we share so many of the same friends and family members between what would be two guest lists, Syd and Marcus and I all talked, and we’re having the wedding on September second next year. The next morning, in place of a day-after brunch, we’d like everyone to come and celebrate Constance’s birthday at the inn.”

“Oh that is wonderful!” Donna lights up and nods. “That little girl is cute as a button and her birth is wound into your engagement.”

“And,” you tilt your head to Sydney, not having formally asked her about this particular detail yet. “We’d like her to be our flower girl, too.”

Every woman in the room, including Junie, coos at the idea. Sydney nearly tears up, hormones still making her slightly over emotional when it comes to wonderful things and her daughter. “I would love that.”

“Malachi has set his tongue firmly in cheek and insists on being the ring bearer because I trust him with everything else in my life.” It had made you laugh so hard you’d doubled over when he had said it jokingly a few days ago and it’s all you’ve been able to think of since, so you and Marcus had asked him officially. “So he’ll bring her down the aisle safely. No worrying about getting her around or trying to teach a one-year-old to throw flower petals.”Top of Form

“Oh please tell me we can find a baby carrier in your wedding colors.” Sydney snorts, cackling with laughter. “I would pay money to see him strap her to his chest.”

“It shouldn’t be hard.” The thought hadn’t occurred to you but now that it has you’re fully on board. “We think we want to go with navy and gold. It should be easy to find a navy baby carrier.”

“Only if Malachi and Constance are wearing gold.” Selena chuckles. “God that will be cute.”

“We’ll make it adorable. But putting Constance in a little gold flower girl dress sounds adorable.” When everyone is done with their salads a few members of the White House staff comes back in to clear the small plates and serve lunch, which looks absolutely stunning. Not that that surprises anyone. The White House chef is remarkably talented and it makes you grateful on a very large scale that your wedding’s catering will be in good hands.

The first bite has Donna groaning in pleasure. “This is amazing.” She gushes, looking between you and your mother. “Tell me how this works.” She begs. “Do you have to pay for them yourselves or is it part of the perks of living in the White House?”

“Their salary is part of the presidential budget. The kitchen staff are White House employees, not the family’s specifically.” Your mother doesn’t mind talking a little bit of shop at the table, but she does lend Sydney a smile. “If you didn’t already have your restaurant I would have had you here in a heartbeat.”

“Anytime you wish me to cook…” Sydney promises with a grin. She’s spent many hours with your family and has cooked for them plenty of times.

“We might have to have you be a special guest chef for something.” The President smiles. She clearly already has an idea in mind. Sydney is her third daughter and she’s as proud of her as she is of you or June.

“I will cook your next inauguration dinner.” Sydney promises, lifting her glass of iced peach tea as a toast.

“I will take you up on that, young lady,” your mother teases, although everyone knows she isn’t teasing at all.

“Does your family have any special traditions?” Donna asks after a moment. “Beyond the wedding dress? Anything like a cookie table or similar?”

"We did a cookie table when Birdie's father and I got married." Your mother nods, smiling at the memory. "Our family isn't very large, so we don't have a lot of things that have been passed all around or repeated amongst cousins. My parents helped us with the down payment for a house as our wedding present but our kids have already gotten a step ahead in that respect."

“They are amazing.” She agrees with a proud nod. “I have brought something with me that is a Pike tradition.” She informs the table and makes sure she makes eye contact with you. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be continued.”

"Oh my god." Selena breathes from the other side of the table, and she puts one hand on her heart as you tear up instantly.

"I didn't know you were going to bring it," you murmur, having seen enough Pike family wedding photos to know exactly what she's talking about.

“Of course I was going to bring it.” She’s not offended, but she huffs slightly. “I remembered your grandmother’s dress and was hoping even if you decided not to wear it on your wedding day, that we could take a photo of you in the dress with the necklace.” She explains as she reaches down into her purse to pull out a very loved and worn necklace case.

When she hands you the jewelry case you set it very carefully between you on the table and open it up to be able to show Sydney, your mother, and Junie. "I did say I wanted to wear pearls, didn't I?" The necklace itself is ornate and beautiful. A three-strand pearl necklace of natural fresh water pearls in various tones and coordinated sizes that graduate gently at each end. The inner most strand has a stunning fixture of diamonds fashioned like outstretched wings. It can be worn all as one piece, as a double strand of pearls, as just a single pearl strand with the diamond fixture, or the diamond fixture can be removed altogether to become a brooch. Each Pike bride had done something different with the piece to make it her own. "It belonged to Marcus's great-grandmother," you explain to the few people at the table who have never seen the necklace before.

“It’s gorgeous.” Junie coos, falling in love with it. “It’s- oh god, it’s Cartier.” She breathes when she sees the emblem on the box. “Isn’t it?”

"My husband's grandmother was given the necklace as an engagement present," Donna explains, having been proud to wear the piece herself on her own wedding day. She had affixed the diamond brooch to her dress like a badge of honor. "She gave it to her daughter-in-law as engagement gift down the line, and it was leant out to subsequent nieces, cousins, and other granddaughters. It's become tradition for all of the Pike brides to be given the chance to wear the heirloom."

“That is such a lovely tradition.” Your mother comments, finding it to be absolutely breathtaking.

"Isn't it?" It's impossible not to fall in love with the story, just like you had when Marcus had shown you the plethora of family pictures and explained the tradition to you.

“It is time to let the necklace rest in the hands of the next generation.” Donna tells you softly. “We want you to have it.”

“To…to wear it.” You clarify, eyes widening to the point of saucers as you look at your future mother-in-law beside you.

“To keep it safe.” Donna clarifies. “The cousins and nieces and nephews may ask you for it to use and as the future Pike “matriarch” I suggest always offering it when someone gets engaged, but I mean for you to keep it going forward.”

“Pike…matriarch?” It hadn’t occurred to you that that would be the case. It truly hadn’t. Marcus has so many cousins and aunts and uncles you had just assumed that that title would go elsewhere. That the responsibility of it would fall to someone else. But you? “I’m—I’m absolutely honored,” you promise her, tearing up at the table as you squeeze her hand tightly.

Smiling at you, she reaches out and touches your face softly. “I am thrilled that Marcus has found you, wonderful you.”

“I didn’t plan on crying today,” you huff, always playfully, when tears start to press at your eyes. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. Not when they’re tears of appreciation and joy and you can lean over to hug your fiancé’s mother tightly. “Your entire family has been so kind and so welcoming. I’m impossibly grateful to all of you.”

“It is easy to be kind when you are amazing.” She promises. “You are supposed to be in this family, it’s….well, it’s fate.” She smiles ironically.

“It is, isn’t it?” Keeping things to just a sniffle is a miracle but you manage it for now with just a dab at the corners of your eyes.

Everyone else smiles at the obvious affection between future mother in law and bride. Your mother is eternally grateful that you have been so welcomed.

“Okay, well that was unexpected.” You wipe your eyes and let yourself have one more good sniffle before looking around the table with a soft grin. “Anyone else planning on making me cry today? I’ll brace myself.”

“Not unless there’s more unexpected news?” Your mother asks, looking around the table.

"I don't think so." Looking around the table makes you laugh. "Unless someone else has something up their sleeves."

“I cannot give you jewels or prestige, but I can offer my assistance with anything you need.” Selena offers.

"You have my bow." Junie jokes, ever the avid Lord of the Rings fan.

"And my axe." Syd snorts, giggling along with her.

“It was supposed to be sword first.” Your mother tsks, shaking her head at Junie, even as she grins. “Sounds like we need to rewatch it.”

"I know it's sword first." Junie complains, though she will never complain about a rewatch of her favourite movies. "But I never took fencing, I took archery. Why would I pledge my sister a weapon I can't wield?"

“My youngest child is so literal.” Your mother snorts, laughing at the offended look on Junie’s face.

"One of us has to be," you grin in amusement. "I've got my head in the clouds and Alex is a gremlin. We need Junie to ground us."

“You are all so very different, but so very alike.” She muses. “All of you amazing in your own way.”

"Oops." June laughs and points her drink in your direction. "Mom is getting sentimental. Quick, somebody else ask a wedding planning question."

“Where will the reception be?” Selena asks.

"Probably the East Room?" You look to your mother for confirmation, but it makes the most sense. It is the largest room in the residence and usually used for dancing and receptions of other kinds. "Would we have dinner in one of the dining rooms and then dancing in the East Room?"

“I believe that would be very fitting considering that is where the ‘First Princess’ photos were taken.” Your mother hums, nodding in agreement. “We must make sure that Marcus recreates that dip for another photo.” It would be for purely personal reasons she would want that.

“I’ll make sure he does.” It would be perfect for the first and last pages of your wedding album to be those photos, and the idea practically makes you sigh with the dreamy feeling in your heart. “So that’s all the wedding locations sorted. The rehearsal dinner is still way up in the air and the Jack and Jill bachelor party is being left up to the wedding party.” Your eyes cut to your three bridesmaids and Sydney, June, and Selena all grin back with false innocence. “But there will be photography so please keep it wholesome. The only other venue is the bridal shower.”

“Where would you want to have a bridal shower?” Selena asks curiously. “There are so many historic sights around here, I can’t help but think that it’s impossible to choose.”

“If we do another historical site, I want to make sure they keep the museum open like they did last night.” There are only a few bites of your salmon left and you already know you’ll be thinking about this meal for weeks to come. “Using historical sights is about recognizing American history and being open to discussing it. I would hate for someone to show up to an event at Ford’s Theater and assume we support presidential assassinations just like I would have hated anyone to show up last night and assume we supported slavery just because we were at the home of someone who had been a slave owner.” You shake your head a bit, knowing that some people will always be contrary. “Maybe a smaller museum that could use a little recognition?”

“What about something for women’s rights?” Sydney asks. “There’s the museum for Women in the Arts and the Women’s Museum.” She offers. “It can be a moment that shows that just because a woman finds her soulmate, that doesn’t mean she looses herself.”

“There are those, and also the Suffrage Museum,” you nod along with the idea.

“You mean Sewall-Belmont House?” Junie perks up immediately. “Technically it’s now the Belmont-Paul Women’s Equality National Monument.” You flash your best friend a grin. We could have a tea party in the museum dedicated to women’s suffrage? They sold tea blends and Held tea parties as part of the rallies during the suffrage movement. Any of those would work.”

“Really?” Donna tilts her head in curiosity and smiles. “That is something that I know nothing about, but it would be fascinating.” She confesses.

“Lets see which of those three would be able to take our numbers and passes the Secret Service’s scrutiny,” your mother suggests. “They would all be wonderful choices.”

Murmurs of agreement sound around the table and then the clinks of the forks on the plates resume as everyone continues to eat. “What about gifts.” Selena asks.

“For the bridal shower?” You cringe, knowing that gifts are traditional but also that you and Marcus can manage. “Ought I to make a registry? Or should everyone just have at it?”

“I think you should.” Your mother nods. “If you aren’t comfortable with the gifts, find a charity you would like contributions to be made to in your honor.”

"We've tossed around a few charities we want to support." It's something that has come up a little more often now that gift giving occasions are on the horizon. "We'll talk it over. But knowing my practical fiancé, he will suggest making a small registry for closest family members and friends, and choosing a charity or two to put on the invitations."

“That sounds like the best kind of compromise.” Sydney admits. “Aunt Mildred isn’t going to want to donate to charity, she wants to gift you an egg platter that will be used twice a year and then displayed with pride.”

You smirk, but nudge your best friend beside you. “So this hypothetical Aunt Mildred…is your mother?”

She snorts and sighs. “How did you guess? The horrible name or the insistence on things being her way?”

“Your mother is as particular as she is old fashioned.” You snort, knowing that particular is a generous description of Syd’s mother. Though she has always been a kind and supportive presence, she does has very strong beliefs.

“Particular.” Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head, although it’s more in fond exasperation than anything else. “Yes, but that particularity will have you something hopelessly needless and ornamental.” She warns.

“And we will treasure it because it’s from her.” After all, Sydney’s mother helped raise you. She’s as much a part of her childhood as your own mother in a lot of ways.

"Mom is in meetings all day, so no fear of your mother-in-law popping in to give her two cents," you tease, as you and Marcus move through the White House residence on a Friday afternoon hours in advance of family dinner. You're meeting with the person that the White House special events staff has designated as your wedding planner for the very first time and trying not to seem nervous. It feels overwhelming to start this planning right in the midst of the holiday season but it has to get done. And the sooner the decisions are made, hopefully the easier the rest of the wedding preparations will be.

Marcus snorts and rolls his eyes playfully. “You’re the one who said I couldn’t use my badge.” He reminds you, winking as his arm loops around your waist.

"Because I want that ace in the hole, my love." You grin back at him and lean into his side, putting your arm around his waist in turn and giggling. "If anything goes truly sideways, that's when we use the badge."

“FBI, madam,” Marcus drawls seriously. “Did you insist on the color puce for a wedding color?!”

The snort you let out echoes in the halls of the residence and you're still giggling when you turn into the China Room. "I think navy and gold were good choices. Nice and simple. We're not trying to reinvent the wheel here."

“And it’s a play on red, white and blue.” Marcus observes. “The red will come from the roses in the Rose Garden and then gold for the white and of course, navy.”

"The white will surely be your bride, won't it?" Annette is already in the room, sitting with her notebook and phone out on the table in front of her. "Miss Sharma is on her way. She's just coming from a meeting with your father and I'm sure he has given her a few things to consider that he wants for your wedding."

Marcus smile as he nods towards Annette. “Good to see you again. And yes, she will be the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

"There's no need for flattery, you two." But you still hum happily and sit down at the table with Marcus and Annette. "We're all the most interested in having a day that runs both beautifully and smoothly."

“I have two goals.” Marcus tells you. “Well, one goal.” He corrects. “Marry you. As long as that happens, the day is perfect.”

"Was there another one in debate?" The chairs are too far apart for you to lean into his side, so you take his hand and weave your fingers together instead.

“I had thought to have a water fight in the Rose Garden.” He jokes. “But I don’t the secret service would like a game of hide and seek.”

"I might put it on the schedule just to see them panic." Amelia Sharma is a tall, poised, and right now very amused woman who sweeps in to the room with a chuckle. She introduces herself but doesn't stand on much ceremony, plopping down in the chair between you and Annette. "We have quite a lot of work ahead of us. A few jokes will help us keep our heads on straight."

Marcus laughs as he watches her pull out a planner and it’s a wonderful idea. He bites his lip and wonders if it might be a keepsake you and he could have after the wedding is over. “Despite the magnitude of the wedding, we are really pretty simple people.”

"That might be the other thing that will keep our heads on straight," you admit, watching the woman get settled. As is habitual in your mother's White House, there is a pitcher of iced tea and a plate of snacks on the table but for now you just reach to pour yourself a glass of tea. "We're not terribly picky, or high maintenance, or any of that. All we want is a nice day with our friends and family."

“There will be a few other guests as well.” Annette reminds you. “But only few.”

"Do you have the list of official guests?" The guest list from the White House was meant to be approved by your mother early on and adjusted as economics and politics demanded, but you have been curious about a first draft.

“You have final say.” Amelia pulls a sheet of paper out of the planner and hands it to you.

Dignitaries and representatives from other governments are all represented as you suspected them to be. Members of your mother's cabinet. The new governor of Pennsylvania and her family. A few token members of important families. But no celebrities or donors or anything that doesn't make immediate sense as you look over the list.

“Does it look alright?” Marcus asks you, knowing that you are much more knowledgeable on the political side than he is.

“I never thought I would have to curtsy to anyone at my wedding, you admit, Running your finger along the names of the various retrial families on the list before you look back up at Annette and Amelia. “Do we think any of the royals will actually show, or just send a nice card?”

“They might arrange an upcoming tour of the US to coincide.” Annette tells you with a smile. “Although you could cause tongue to wag by not curtsying.”

“I don’t object to it,” you clarify immediately, thinking of all the scuttlebutt that would happen if you didn’t do something as silly as curtsy. “It sounds like a cute photo op actually. The First Princess and the Actual Princess.”

“I think I would like to see that.” Marcus agrees with a fond smile. “It would be a beautiful photo op.”

“You know what that makes you?” The sly grin on your lips for your fiancé isn’t subtle, nor is the sparkle in your eyes. “Prince Charming.”

He snorts and shrugs, “I’ve never denied that.” He teases playfully.

“Some will accept and some will not.” Amelia Sharma smiles, mostly because she can tell you’re nervous. “But those who will souls be given a bit more attention than your standard courtesy invitation.”

“It doesn’t matter who is there.” Marcus tells you. “All that matters is that those we love are there, celebrating our happiness. Everyone else is just white noise.”

“We just want the flowers inside to complement the fact that our ceremony is being held in the Rose Garden.” It feels like a foreign language to you, talking to this florist, and you curse the fact that Marcus had been called out of the country on a case as you sit here with your wedding planning the florist’s shop wishing you knew what the hell you were talking about.

Marcus bites his lip, his alarm going off to remind him of the flower appointment. “Excuse me, I need to make a call back to the States.” Interpol doesn’t need to know that it’s not to his boss, so Marcus closes the door on the small office he’s been allowed to use and pulls out his phone.

It’s a miracle when your phone goes off in the middle of trying to find your voice with the florist. Oh thank god, you think with a sigh. “This is my fiancé,” you explain, and set your phone in the table in front of you to answer it. “Hi honey! You have perfect timing.”

“Have you already met with the florist?” He asks, happy to hear your voice and he thinks he hears a little bit of relief in your tone.

“We all just sat down,” you tell him, wishing you could just reach through the phone and hug him. “I was just telling Theresa about the Rose Garden, and Amelia is here with us as well.”

“So I’ve been doing some research….” Marcus admits with a smile in his tone.

“Oh?” Theresa, the florist, sounds impressed that a groom would be doing more research about flowers than the bride.

“We have colors for our wedding. Navy and gold, so I was thinking that we use marigolds, azure aster and baby’s breath for the bouquets.” He suggests. “They complement the roses in the garden and still have their own beauty.”

“We can certainly start there,” the florist hums, nodding along and starting to scribble down in her notebook. “We’ll get some height out of other flowers in the same color scheme, but this is a beautiful beginning. Bringing real color to the palette is much more lively than working with a monochromatic look and I think you’ll be very pleased with it.”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He hopes he hasn’t overstepped because you and he hadn’t had a long discussion about flowers yet.

“I think it’s an utter relief,” you promise him with a laugh. “I had absolutely no idea of how to approach flowers and you’ve solved it in one go.”

“I spent the flight hooked up to the WiFi and researching flowers.” He admits with a laugh. “I just didn’t want you to have to think about this alone. If you hate it, that’s fine, but let the florist put something together like that to see, hum?”

“I’m absolutely on board.” And relieved — absolutely, entirely relieved. “You didn’t happen to have a thought about my bouquet, did you?”

“Actually…” Marcus chuckles and shrugs even though no one can see him. “I thought you could have something non-traditional and yet it would be a quiet statement in official portraits. What if you were to carry a bouquet of olive branches?”

“I could certainly use olive branches as greenery in your bouquet instead of the usual accents,” the florist offers, interested by the choice.

“You’re thinking of the official seal, aren’t you, love?” You ask Marcus over the phone, and hum slightly at the idea. It’s a nice homage without going crazy. “What if we used olive branches and laurel branches as the greenery for our flowers?” You offer after a moment. “Laurel are in the Seal of the President.”

“It would be a statement.” He agrees, having thought laurels might have been too bold, but the two of them together might be the ticket. “Especially since your mother is working hard to achieve peace.”

“And the day is a peaceful one.” Amelia smiles at the sentiment, nodding in approval. “After the turmoil you dealt with early on, it will be nice to have your day for happiness.”

“Yes.” Turmoil, you think with a polite smile. That’s one word for it. “Maybe for my bouquet we can use those greens and an assortment of white flowers? White versions of the things that we’re using in the other arrangements, and of course roses and dahlias and camellias. Things like that?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Marcus promises, smiling softly as you start to interject your own thoughts into the process.

“And what about the boutonnieres?” The florist is now taking rapid notes. “How many members of your wedding party will there be?”

“Honey?” Marcus speaks again. “Did we decide on four or five?”

“We said four, didn’t we?” You look down at the phone as though you were simply looking at him in conversation. “You have Juan, Alex, Leo, and Clark?” Originally Marcus had asked his father if he would want to be a groomsman, but after a long discussion Matthew had insisted that Marcus choose his friends that are nearby and truly enjoy himself.

“That’s right.” Marcus huffs. “You’re completely right, I forgot. There would be five total, four for the groomsmen and I would like a boutonniere that matches the bride’s bouquet. I think there should be a subtle difference between the arrangements, right?”

“Absolutely.” The florist nods, continuing to scribble. “I can do further simplified pieces for the fathers and the ring bearer if you would like?”

“Definitely.” It sounds very sweet, actually, to have everyone unified like that. “Our ring bearer is an adult, for the record. A very close friend. So the only child in the wedding party is our flower girl.”

“Will the child be holding a bouquet as well?” She asks and for some reason that makes Marcus laugh through the phone.

“Our goddaughter will only be a year old, so I’m not planning on testing her coordination with a bouquet and a basket of flower petals,” you answer as kindly as you can with Marcus giggling over the phone.

“Sorry, I’m just imagining Constance flapping the bouquet in Malachi’s face as he carries her down the aisle.” He snorts.

“Honestly?” You giggle right along with him but offer your florist and wedding planner an apologetic grin. “That alone might make it worthwhile.”

“I’m here!” Sydney opens the door three inches and shoves her lips inside, the days of just popping in without announcing are over now that Marcus lives here. She’s not willing to risk walking in on something she shouldn’t see. “Put your clothes on.”

“Marcus is out with my Dad,” you huff at your best friend, but laugh anyway. “I’m fully dressed and presentable. But don’t come in, we need to scoot out if we’re going to meet Selena, our sisters, and my Mom at the dress shop.”

“Sorry.” She knows she’s the one running behind. Getting out the door has become practically impossible with Constance here now. “Let’s go.”

“Honey do not even apologize.” You grab your coat and grin to find Agent Bailey already ready to go.

“I’ll drive,” she offers, shooing you toward the elevator. “You two enjoy your gossip and baby pictures on the ride.”

“Thanks.” She flashes the agent a grin. “I only took ninety-seven photos this morning. Quite modest.”

“I can’t believe it’s dress shopping time already.” As the three of you head down in the elevator, you snag Sydney’s arm and tug her close in your excitement. The January chill has done nothing to quell your excitement, but it does mean you’re definitely wearing knee high boots with your plaid dress today instead of heels. “This dress shop is amazing and I’m so excited to see what you guys like.”

“How have your fittings been going with your grandmother’s dress?” She asks, knowing how careful you are being with altering the heirloom. You had taken Junie with you to make sure she approved.

“It’s going to be pretty perfect.” The elevator ride evaporates on a sigh and a laugh, and in mere minutes you’re sliding into Agent Bailey’s car. “It will be tea length, so the mission is to find dresses for the four of you that are the same or shorter.”

“You might be the first bride in history that wants her bridesmaids to have a sexier dress than she does.” Sydney teases, making Agent Bailey chuckle softly as she pulls out of the inn’s driveway.

"Knee length dresses can be perfectly modest," you huff, but you know she's right. "The place we're going is run by a pair of cousins, and they make modern interpretations of vintage dresses. I think we're going to find something fantastic. At least...I hope we will."

“I know we will.” She predicts. “This wedding planning has been super easy. Who could have guessed that Marcus would have been so engaged in the entire process?” Her comment is sarcastic because all of them knew it, but it’s still fun to point out that your soul mate is also carrying around bridal magazines in his briefcase.

"Actually?" Glancing over at her in the car, you smirk to hold back a joyous giggle. "He's the one who had the idea for the bridesmaid dresses that I think I'm going to go with."

The little dress shop in downtown DC is just that — little — but the ladies who run it are endlessly sweet and accommodating. Your group just about fills the entire shop and there are Secret Service agents to boot, so the shop owners have elected to have their place open late today to accommodate your group as a private party.

It might actually be the most fun you e had with any wedding planning trip ever. You and Sydney join your mother, June, Selena, and Sydney’s sister AnnaLeigh to round out your bridesmaids— on top of having your wedding planner present — and everyone has mimosas to make the whole thing even more fun.

“Have you decided what color you would like the bridesmaids’ dresses, or are you still going to choose what you like best?” Your mother asks, happy to be able to be here after all the meetings this morning. Nothing but a national crisis would have prevented her from coming.

“I’m hoping we can find dresses for everyone that work in navy blue, but if we can’t then that’s fine.” You’re not going to be a bridezilla about your wedding colors. The groomsmen have all already ordered suits in navy with a gold pocket square so your colors are represented there. “I want you all to wear things that make you feel beautiful. Marcus had a thought that I agree with — that we should pick a color, a fabric type, and a length that everyone can agree on. And then everyone can have a dress in their own style that coordinates instead of completely matching.”

“Ohhhh interesting.” Junie lights up and nods. “I think that would be great, although, there’s a lot of beautiful things here.”

“If you all fall in love with the same dress, then that’s fine,” you look around at your bridesmaids with an utter softness in your expression, just glad to have you friends and your sister here. “But I’m not going to force you to match.”

Sydney smirks at Junie, both of them aware of the conversation that had been had without you about how you were all going to match for this wedding.

“Why don’t we start with the navy blue options and see what we like?” Your consultant today is one of the shop’s owners and she is nothing but smiles with the large group in her shop.

“Of course.” It’s absolutely thrilling to have the President and her daughter in their shop and the owners are here to personally oversee the day, giving you the privacy you need without the additional staff here. “We will pull all the styles we have available and we can order any size needed and make alterations.”

“Do you guys want to do a fashion show?” It’s a fully rhetorical question. You know these four women and you know they absolutely live for frivolous shopping trips and the endorphins of being silly with friends. This trip might be for a real event, but it still has that air of frivolity that shopping for prom dresses did back when you were teenagers. “I’m going to sit with Mom and Amelia and we’ll go through the best of the navy blue choices first?”

“Yes!” Junie immediately volunteers, shooting up out of her seat in excitement. “I put on my good bra too.”

"Come on, Junebug." Sydney tugs your baby sister toward the racks of dresses and nudges you firmly in the other direction. "Sit," she urges you. "Drink. Chat. Let us do the work for once."

"Oo!" AnnaLeigh, already in the racks of dresses, is gasping over a discovery. "I found one with a lace top!"

She pulls the dress out with a flourish and four bridesmaids immediately coo over the pretty dress. “I think you should try it on first.” Junie tells her.

“Everybody picks a different dress and we let Birdie pick, right?” Selena murmurs, her eyes already sliding to a satin swing dress that looks straight out of the 1950s.

“Agreed.” Sydney sees where Selena is heading and her own browsing bypasses that and goes directly for a beautiful sleeveless number.

It takes several minutes to get everyone coordinated, but when all four of your bridesmaids disappear into changing rooms there is a collective squealing and another moment’s pause before they emerge again in all their glory.

“Oh my…” your mother whispers, her gaze full of love and adoration for the vision in front of her. She loves Junie with all her heart, Sydney is the closest thing to a child she has beyond her biological children and of course she adores Syd’s sister and Selena. “You all look perfect.”

“Oh my god!” Knowing that your friends have excellent taste might have been a little bit of a tactic on your part, and setting them loose to pick the first round of dresses was a fantastic choice. “Okay, you all look amazing. But how do you feel? Comfortable? Like you can dance and move and sit without trouble?”

Every woman starts swinging the dresses around playful and moving. Junie and Selena dance to no music and all of them laugh.

“What about sitting?” Choosing between any of the four dresses they’ve chosen will be impossible unless you put on a critical eye. The dress Junie has on is the right length on her, but your petite little sister is considerably shorter than the other three. And the dress can’t be elongated to fit them.

There are chairs and all four of them sit down with great aplomb, grinning happily. The dresses feel right.

“I swear, if you all tell me you found the perfect dresses first thing…” Looking between them, it certainly seems that way. As though they have all magically found perfection without any effort at all.

“What? That we have time for you to try on your dress with the alterations started?” Junie challenges with a grin. “Don’t you think you should see what a rough look like it will be, all together?”

“Is it safe?” You have to let the shopkeeper make the call on that decision. The reason you found this shop was that they specialize in working with vintage pieces as well as selling vintage-inspired designs, so it had been sort of a one stop shop for you in terms of planning.

“Yes.” She smiles at the wistful hope in your eyes and knows that she can’t say no. The hem has been pinned and as long as you aren’t careless with it, it will be good to get a final fitting with it. “We can go get it from the back.”

“I really didn’t expect to put it on today.” Which is evidenced by the fact that you didn’t even think to wear a strapless bra today, but it doesn’t matter. It will be beautiful regardless.

Junie smirks and shakes her head. “You have to.” She insists. “One picture with all of us right now.”

“Do you guys really love these dresses? You’re not just saying that?” Looking at the four of them, you can’t help but get a touch misty-eyed as Selena pulls you up on the dais with them to look in the mirror together. “Because you all look stunning, but you really don’t have to pick after the first round.”

“I love mine.” Selena snorts. “This is the one I want.” The others hum and nod in agreement. “Yeah, this is the one for me.”

“What kind of jewelry are you thinking?” AnnaLeigh asks, gleefully swishing her skirt in the mirror.

“I was thinking…pearls maybe?” Meeting all of their eyes in the mirror, you have four beaming smiles gleaming back at you. “But the other wedding color is gold, so maybe…maybe pearls and gold? But those are going to be gifts for you four. Thank you gifts, for being a part of all of this.”

“You don’t have to give us anything.” Sydney automatically protests, but she knows you will do it anyway.

“No.” You know that, but you squeeze your best friend to your side. “But I want to.”

“But we just want to lodge a formal protest.” Her sister chimes in with a grin. “So we are going to buy our bridesmaids dresses.”

“Absolutely not.” Shaking your head at that adamantly, all four of them shoot you a stern look in the mirror. “You guys, no,” you insist, nudging them all. “Get your own shoes. Whatever height you like. Be comfortable and pick something fun. Gold or blue, you guys decide as a group. But…Mom already offered to pay for the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“You’re no fun.” Sydney huffs, turning towards the President and rolling her eyes at your mother. “The presidential purse, hum?”

“The regular purse,” your mother laughs. You’ve allowed her this one little thing to do personally, while most of the wedding expenses are being covered by a combined force of contributions. “You all look stunning, and I want the bragging right of saying I got all of these beautiful dresses for you.”

“Mrs. Pike?” The shop owner has a little habit of calling all the brides by the future marital name and it makes you beam. “We are ready for you to try on the dress.”

“Here goes nothing.” You grin at your friends in the mirror and slip away to change, practically floating with the glow of two little words. Mrs. Pike. In just eight months, that is exactly who you will be.

______

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[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 15

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Tooth-decaying sweetness, talk of pregnancy/impregnation, unexpected visitor, references to rough sex, possessiveness. Oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: After almost a year together, you and Marcus celebrate your first Valentine's Day together with a weekend trip away. Notes: We are inching closer to the wedding with every chapter! This week enjoy some sex and romance, Pike style.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14

The flight from Dulles to JFK would be shorter, but there’s a certain charm to taking the train. The rhythmic clacking of the wheels on the track is almost romantic and Marcus had secured an entire compartment for you, him and Agent Sellers. Agent Bailey will meet you in New York with a car and to trade off with your other security detail, but for now, it seems like it’s just the two of you in the car. “Hotel first?” Marcus asks, kissing your fingertips and you look out the window at the passing scenery.

“Because you want to drop off our bags or because you want to test out the mattress?” Either way the answer is yes, and you relax in your seat all over again. This idea to go away for a few days for Valentine’s Day had made you feel guilty at first, but you were easy to convince once you remembered that it was around Valentine’s last year that everything has started to happen between you. Now that chaos of finishing the house and moving in together is over with, a couple of days in New York sounded perfect.

"I do need to see if your legs look different on my shoulders in New York than in D.C." he teases, wagging his eyebrows playfully. "Three days of no house details, no work, and all we have to worry about is walking out of our hotel room dressed."

“And making our reservations on time.” With your fingers tangled through his, this time you pull his hand over to kiss his fingers instead. “I may have called in a favor for our dinner tonight.”

"Where are we having dinner?" He had left the dinner reservations up to you, knowing you would have a list of favorite places you would want to go.

"Tonight we're going to see a friend," you hum, leaning into him as much as you can in your seat as the train speeds toward New York. "One of Syd's friends from culinary school opened a restaurant right in the city a couple of years ago and I've just never gotten the chance to go up and try it out. So I called in a favor and got us a reservation for after the theater tonight. Neo is an Italian steakhouse, which sounded right up your alley."

"Nice." He's impressed by the idea of a nice steakhouse that is close to you and Sydney. His hand slides down to your thigh and he squeezes it gently.

"And then tomorrow night..." Your hand over his on your thigh is basically just grounding. Holding you to him and making sure you don't float away on the bliss of having some time off with your fiancé. "Every time we watch FoodTV you get obsessed with watching Alex Guarnaschelli, so I got us a reservation at Butter."

"Really?" His eyes widen in delight and he can't believe that you would go through the trouble for something like that. It's the small things that you notice that makes him feel special. You do so many little things that show him you pay attention to his interests, passing or intense. "That's— wow." He shakes his head. "Thank you."

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. The train ride was a special treat but now that you’re almost in the city you’re eager for your trip to really begin. “I love you more than anything.”

"I love you too." He leans his own head against yours. "I booked our tickets to the Met." He tells you quickly, knowing you will like that.

“I’m sooooo excited for museum time with my own personal art expert.” He claims he isn’t, but you’ve learned in the last year not to listen to his protests. He practically gives guided tours whenever you go to the Smithsonian together.

He rolls his eyes playfully but he doesn’t naysay. He knows that you look at it as a point of pride almost. “Anything else you want to do? I think it’s a little too cold to take a boat out in Central Park.”

"There are a million museums and historical sites." And you can't wait to explore each and every one of them with him. "It's just too bad it's too early in the year for a ball game."

“We can always make a summer day trip.” Marcus immediately offers. “Maybe the subway series?”

"That would be fun." You perk up instantly at the idea of it. "The MET is tomorrow, so how about we ask the concierge at the hotel what their favorite underrated attraction is for today before the theater?"

“That sounds good.” He agrees. “Something that is kind of off the beaten path sounds fun.”

The last hour of the trip is smooth sailing, and early check-in at your hotel means that you and Marcus are unpacking your suitcases in almost no time. It’s snowy in New York but not in a way that will add up, and it makes the whole thing look quite picturesque from your seventh-floor window.

“Too bad the fireplaces have been closed for years.” Marcus comments. “Couldn’t you imagine curling up next to a fire and watching the snow fall?”

“Next year let’s rent a cabin,” you hum, leaning back in his arms as you look out the window together. “Get snowed in.”

“That sounds like something we can definitely do.” For the suggestion, you deserve a kiss. “Unless you are pregnant. Then I don’t know if I would want to risk it.”

“If I’m pregnant we’ll choose a very easily accessible hotel where we can watch the snow fall instead.” His concern is sweet enough to earn him a kiss in return, and they’re getting longer every time. “Someplace where we can get snacks delivered.”

“Pregnancy cravings.” Marcus practically moons at the idea and he cups your cheeks to kiss you again.

“So…I’ve been thinking about something.” This calls for a face to face conversation, and you turn around in his arms.

“Oh yeah?” He doesn’t think that it’s anything bad, you come to him when something heavy is on your mind. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking, sweetheart.”

The two of you have always agreed that the timing of your lives needed to be a joint conversation, but somehow you don’t think this particular idea is going to need much debating. Not much if any, knowing Marcus. “I think I’d like to stop taking my birth control the day before the wedding,” you tell him, slipping both arms around his waist. “I know it might not happen for us immediately, but I think everything else has fallen into place for us so maybe this might, too.”

Marcus tilts his head, a slow smile spreading over his face and lighting it up. “Yeah? You want to do that?” He asks quietly. “I— I think that’s perfect.” He admits. “As long as you are ready.”

You're glowing as you lean into him, already feeling like you could burst with happiness and pride. "I'd say we should start now but there's no way my wedding dress will fit me if I'm pregnant."

“I want you to be able to drink a toast at our wedding if we can help it.” Marcus admits.

"Especially since you went through all the trouble to pick out good toasting champagne with the wedding planner." It had been an entire conversation of wine pairings and champagne choices that you hadn't understood a word of but watching Marcus get excited about tasting notes had been well worth it.

“I think you will enjoy it. It will go well with our wedding cake.” He reminds you, knowing you are excited for the replica cake the bakery in Boston had fallen over over themselves to agree to bake.

"I'm excited for everything to come together." After so easily picking out bridesmaids' dresses last weekend and even finding a mother of the bride dress at the same shop, the wedding is feeling like everything is really falling into place. "Last things are to pick a place for the rehearsal dinner and to book our honeymoon."

“We’ve had so many ideas for our honeymoon…” he laughs quietly, remembering all the various places you’ve both come up with. “Have we actually decided on where we are going to go?”

"I think we've talked about almost every place on earth," you laugh right along with him. "But no. We haven't decided. I think the last time we talked we said it should be someplace that neither of us have been."

“Maybe we need to make a honeymoon wheel.” Marcus snorts. “Have you seen the trend where a guy will make a restaurant wheel to spin when their girlfriend or wife can’t decide?” He shrugs. “We could do the same thing with our honeymoon ideas.”

“Hotel room crafts.” It’s silly and sweet enough of an idea to make you giggle, and you press more kisses to Marcus’s lips and cheeks. “I don’t know about making a wheel, but we could do slips of paper with destinations on them in the ice bucket instead of a hat.”

“Like a lottery drawing.” He snorts. “That could be fun.”

“I have a notebook in my purse.” Which doesn’t surprise him one bit, but you tug Marcus back into the room from the window. “Grab the ice bucket?”

“In a minute.” He smirks and his hands slide from your waist to your ass. “You remember what I told you I wanted to do on the train?” He coos, leaning in and kissing your neck.

“Mmmmhmm.” A soft moan of approval and agreement sounds from deep in your throat, but you feel like teasing him just a tiny bit. “Something about…shoulders?”

“Your legs, my shoulders.” He grinds his hips against yours, his hardening cock proof of his desire and he smirks. “I need to see if you taste different in New York.”

It is pretty much never difficult to convince either of you when a good time to be intimate has appeared, and you nudge him backward again toward the bed. “Then why are we still wearing clothes?”

“That’s a good question.” He goes willingly and he reaches for the edge of your sweater to pull it up. “You’re wearing far too many of them right now.”

Sweaters, t-shirts, pants, and everything else end up scattered around the room, littering the carpet with evidence of the romance in the air. Marcus has you laid out on your back on the bed in no time and you happily tug him down to you for a kiss when he climbs in with you.

“My gorgeous hummingbird.” His hands slide over your clavicle and he kisses your collar bone gently. Worshipfully. “My love, my soulmate.”

“I love you.” Simple words, but meant with all the feeling in the world as your limbs curl around him and you melt under his kisses.

“I. Love. You. Too.” Every word is punctuated by a kiss. Making sure that he teases and caresses your skin with his lips.

“Baby.” After almost a year together, you and Marcus have no trouble finding the right buttons to push. You know each other’s favorite things, each other’s ticks and hidden kinks. You know Marcus adores being showered in praise just you like him to have a firm hand. The flow of your relationship has been built on respect and trust and mutual admiration. Which has made experimenting and finding the things you enjoy together all the more rewarding.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Marcus pops his head up, eyes dark and fixed on you. “What do you want me to give you, sweet thing? I’ll give you anything you want, you just have to tell me.”

"Just you, baby." Anything and everything he is will to give you is always what you want. Just him. As much of Marcus as he is willing and able to pour into you any time you have moments to yourself.

“You have me, baby. You’ve got all of me.” He groans, adding to teeth to his kisses as he starts to move down your body.

"All of me." It's so true. And true for both of you. The complete devotion you have to each other is obvious. Lying naked wrapped in each other's arms might be the most honest and most vulnerable you ever are, and there is no one in the world you are more grateful to share that feeling with.

Marcus groans, your words of affirmation and affection always affect him, but none like they do when you are both stripped bare. When there is nothing between you but the air and your beating hearts. He drops a featherlight kiss on your stomach, which will one day hopefully protect his children, and then down to your hip.

"We really need to start asking hotels if they have sound proof rooms," you giggle, already sighing as Marcus moves lower and lower on your body.

"Let them hear." He chuckles, never having a problem with others knowing how satisfied you are. He brings your leg up onto his shoulder as he settles between your thighs and he licks his lips as he parts your folds to expose the sensitive little clit that he will lavish with attention.

The touch of his fingers makes you gasp, but you still chuckle despite yourself and know that you'll hold back more here than you do at home. Having the house finally be finished has been a blessing. "Last thing we need is a sound bite of the First Daughter getting eaten out."

"Then it's a good thing they don't have access to those little videos we've made, isn't it?" He smirks, having enjoyed the clips of sexy scenes both of you had made together and while you were apart to send to each other. They were in a locked file and heavily guarded so no one could get to them.

"Well I don't want you to miss me while you're on a long case," you rationalize, letting out another deep sigh as his finger paints a long stripe along your slit.

"Oh I always miss you." He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose against your clit before he samples a small taste of your essence.

He knows how to make you moan. He knows as well as he knows his own name. And yet the first moment your back lifts off the mattress always takes you by surprise and you have to remind yourself not to squeeze his head too tight between your thighs when they clench with that first feeling of pleasure. "Fuck, baby."

The noises you make are always so fucking sweet. He’s addicted to them, to you. His own groan is sounded into your pussy as his tongue flutters around, sweeping the edges of your folds in a pattern that always makes you whine.

The fingers of one hand twist into his curls and you’re prepared to thank every possible god all over again that Marcus has been growing out his hair. It’s all his own style of course, but you don’t mind having a handle to keep him close as he devours your pussy every chance he gets.

The small whine of pleasure that he gives at the pressure of your hand in his hair is one you thoroughly enjoy and he gives you that sound every time his cock twitches against the bed. Making him even more eager in his task as he flicks his tongue over your soaked hole.

Curses and praise and moans of pleasure fill the room, babble verging on incoherent as Marcus plays you with as much skill as his bass or guitar. It’s the w of pleasure that makes you feel like you’re floating all the way above the mattress. It’s ecstasy, all on the curls and flicks of your soulmate’s tongue.

Marcus has always enjoyed sex, enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure, but there is something incredibly unique about his intimacy with you. There is a fusion of your bodies that match your souls, where your pleasure magnifies his own and he gets lost in it.

You shatter for him as easily as breathing, although in the moment you come apart you’ve replaced panted breaths with an orgasm so intense that your mind goes blank as you sob his name into the bright white afternoon. It’s almost like being at peace, the way he breaks you apart and puts you back together with tender caresses and loving kisses, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your come down is his favorite part of foreplay. The pliant limbs and pleasure warmed skin. He loves the dazed look in your eyes, as if you are surprised by how good you feel. “Maybe I need another taste.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Babyyy.” You whine and grab his shoulder when he ducks his head like he’s going to travel down your body again. “Don’t you need to see if I ride you just as well in New York?”

He stops, tilts his head as if he is considering that point before he sighs. Making it seem like it’s a big concession on his part. “I think that needs to be explored too.” You love to ride him and he always lets you be in control when you want it, since so often you want him in control.

“It seems very important.” You nod in agreement, grinning lazily to see his eyes light up at the prospect of having your tits in his face while you bounce on him.

He comes back up to kiss you thoroughly before rolling onto his back. His hard cock laying against his stomach as he reaches out and caresses your side. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

It’s just teasing, but you straddle his waist and lean over to press a kiss over his heart before shifting back into position. “That’s a very dangerous thing to promise your fiancée.”

“Not at all.” His hands find your waist and he squeezes gently. “I mean every word.”

“Dangerous.” You admonish him again with a tsk, but sink down on his length all the same — making both of you gasp and moan in unison.

Marcus’s eyes flutter closed with a silent prayer of thanks. His fingers digging into your flesh and for a second, he wishes you were already off your birth control. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” He groans when you roll your hips in a little circle and clench down around him.

“Fuck, you always feel so fucking good.” Letting your head fall back makes it feel like he’s gotten all the way up into your throat and your whole body tightens like a bowstring in response.

“That’s because you’re so perfect.” He groans in appreciation, rocking his hips up. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He flashes a grin and twitches inside you. “Last little cunt I’ll ever fuck too.”

"All yours." As many times as you promise him that, it never diminishes how much you mean it. He has your whole heart for your whole life. "All yours and you're all mine and fuck you have the best cock in the world."

He chuckles, proud of your happiness with his abilities. His hand slides up your neck to cup the back of your head as he drags you down for a kiss.

The rhythm you set is quick but thorough, making sure to rise and fall on every inch of him to swallow his moans in equally thorough kisses.

He loves when you ride him. Your tits bounce and your kisses are greedy, leaving him to touch you how he wants to while you use his cock for your pleasure. “Fuck, baby.” He grunts, twitching when you swivel your hips.

The figure eights you draw in his lap are his favorite. They always have been. They're brilliantly drawn out and exaggerated to leave him groaning and greedy, pawing at you as you bounce on him. It's greedy for both of you in different ways, which is probably why this is one of your favorite positions.

“You’re teasing me.” Marcus huffs, lunging up to capture one tit in his mouth and scrape his teeth over your sensitive nipple.

"You — ah! — love when I tease you." And since he's so good at teasing you back, you don't ever hesitate.

Marcus just groans against your breast and slaps your ass playfully. Rocking you harder on his cock as his mouth works your breast.

It’s the hungry kind of sex where you know you’ll be sticky and sweaty and need a shower after. Where you know Marcus is going to leave teeth marks pebbling your skin. Where you know without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be achy and feeling him in your theater seat tonight. And it’s exactly the right kind of fierceness for both of you, so you amp up your pace and throw your head back, letting the bliss of it all wash over you. Lovemaking is what you’ll do tonight, with moonlight streaming through the windows and soft touches and whispered promises. This is a deeply cathartic and energizing fuck — the perfect way to start your weekend.

“Fuck.” Marcus hisses and his fingers slide down to find your clit. Sensing the urgency to your pace and knowing how badly he wants to see you fall apart for him before he finds his own release.

Your whine of agreement is high from the added touch. His fingertips are calloused, giving you added friction as well as added tension, and every time you roll your hips you get more pressure and friction. It's stunning, the way he drives you toward the edge of that cliff of pleasure, and your head spins from how close you are.

“That’s it baby, you’re so good to me.” Marcus groans, loving how you just give him everything you’ve got. “So pretty on my cock. You gonna cum for me? You know I want to see it. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

"I'm so close baby." So close that you feel like you're about to fall over onto his chest from the way you're tensing up. Every part of you is tense, right down to the way your greedy cunt is clamping down on his cock.

“That’s it, fuck- you’re so tight.” Marcus hisses, watching you as your hips stutter and your shoulders start to shake. “So good baby, want to feel you.”

"Fuck, fuck, oh my god, Marcus!" The freedom to cry out, even though you joked about volume earlier, isn't lost on you. The way you tense and shatter and cry his name is his favourite music in the world.

He can’t help himself. Lunging up, he presses his lips to yours desperately and rolls you over to keep pistoning his hips and drilling into your spasming walls. Working you higher through your orgasm and chasing his own.

It would be a whole different ballgame if you were already off your birth control, but you still want Marcus to cum inside you. There's no better or more indulgent feeling in the world, so you wrap your legs around his waist and shake with the last waves of your own orgasm knowing that it will bring him toward his own.

“I love you, I love you. I love you.” Marcus begins to chant as his hips rock forward desperately, barely pulling back as he feels his body pull tight.

"I love you." Those words never diminish, especially not when he's driving his hips forward to bury his cock deep inside you, coating your walls with his searing hot release.

He whines your name as he rides out the release of every tense bone in his body. Pouring himself into you as he collapses against you. “Fuck.” He huffs, face buried against your neck and panting softly. “Always.” He murmurs, kissing a damp patch of skin over your pulse.

“Always.” A fact which leaves you breathless and tangled up in each other more often than not. Right now you hold him tight, hanging on to a confessional sigh. “I almost wish I was off my birth control already,” you admit quietly.

“Me too.” He chuckles because the two of you seem to always be so in sync about your goals and desires. “But we know that it would be better to keep to our original timeline.”

"It's a nice dream, though." Your fingers run up his shoulder and through his hair, and the softness in your eyes is pure adoration when your eyes meet again. "And I can't wait for it to come true."

“I know.” He smiles softly as he presses his lips to yours. “You know I’m going to be feral over you.” He warns. “Not going to be able to stop touching you.”

"Oh nooo." The laugh in your voice is as joyous as your smile but you toss a tone of sarcasm into your teasing. "That will be terrible. I just hate when my fiancé, the sexiest man in the whole world, wants to fuck me."

“You might hate sex while you are pregnant.” He huffs, knowing he would hate it, but he would never pressure you to sleep with him if you don’t feel like it. From what he can tell, it’s hard work to grow a human.

"I don't think I will." Of course, you can't be sure. But as you stretch your neck to kiss him again you enjoy the image tucked away in your mind. "I think I'm going to melt in your arms every single time like I already do."

“I love you.” The simple words are more vow than statement, completely true and undeniable. Luckily, the nasty rumors have tapered off and you have been able to enjoy the wedding planning so far.

"I love you, too." It doesn't take much surging to kiss him one more time, and then you're grinning all over again. "Now...how do you feel about naked honeymoon planning?"

“Naked anything with you is good for me.” He jokes. “Unless it’s frying bacon.”

"Aprons when we cook." You quote Sydney with a grin. "I think I can walk. I'll grab the notebook from my purse and we can write down the ideas we're serious about?"

“If you can’t, I’ll grab it for you.” He smirks, a little pleased when you are unsteady on your feet climbing out of the bed after he rolls off of you.

"Why don't you grab the ice bucket, baby?" Your purse is much closer to the bed than anything else, so it barely takes you two shaky steps before you're slumping back onto the mattress with a grin.

“Can’t make it, can you?” He chuckles as he stands up and crosses over to the desk where the ice bucket is located.

"Shut up." A playful little huff and a pout comes from the bed as you stick your tongue out at him. So what if you barely made it? You managed to grab your notebook and a pen and that's what matters. "You fucked me so good I can't walk, be nice."

He winks at you. “I fucked you so good you can’t walk because I’m nice.”

"I love you very much, now come and get back in bed," you stick your tongue out again and pick up your pen. "So what are your top choices. Are we doing top three each or top five?"

“I say we do five.” Marcus suggests, grinning as he saunters back over and plops down beside you with the bucket. “And then we use the bucket idea for the next nine anniversaries.”

"That's actually super cute." So much that it earns him a kiss when he comes and sits back down with you. A sheet of paper from your notebook is torn up into ten strips, and you hand him five. "I'm thinking my top five are Paris, Scotland, Napa Valley, New Zealand..." You grin unapologetically. "And Disney."

He shakes his head, faking a disappointed pout. “No naked honeymoon in Disney.” He grumbles. “We would be banned and then our kids would never forgive us.”

“We can still be naked in the hotel,” you remind him, grinning unapologetically as you drop the last destination into the ice bucket.

“Yeah, yeah.” He swats your thigh gently and sighs. “So I need to pick other destinations, right?”

“That’s the idea.” Being done before him lets you lay back in the pillows and idly stir the slips in the ice bucket while he thinks.

“Okay, okay…” he takes the notepad you’ve left on the bed and writes on the first one. “Ireland.” He shoots you a grin. “It’s different from Scotland.”

“Yes, it is.” You smirk at him, wondering if he’s going to pick places near all of yours.

“Let’s see…” He taps his chin. “Ohhhh Bora Bora would be good.” He scribbles it down. “Fruity alcoholic drinks, and tiny bikinis for you the entire time.”

That earns a grin from you, and you lean over to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Tiny bikinis are a favorite vacation theme for you.”

“It’s as close to naked as I can get you.” He huffs. “Unlessssss…” Marcus flashes you a teasing grin. “We go to one of those nudist resorts. Should I write Hedonism II down?”

“You try explaining that to my mother when she asks for vacation photos,” you snort, knowing that that choice would go over like screen doors on a submarine.

“Yeah…no to Hedonism.” He doesn’t write that, but he pretends to and mimes ripping the sheet out and balling it up. “How about Chile?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “I’ve always wanted to go to the Atacama Desert or Easter Island.”

“Chile would be gorgeous. It’s too bad we couldn’t bring your bike down with us.” The image makes you hum, and your shoot him a grin. Marcus sitting astride his motorcycle in any setting just does things to you. “We’ll have to rent one when we go.”

“Absolutely.” He has rediscovered his love of having a woman on the back of his bike and often will bring you along if you can get away for a quick drive in the evenings.

“So…Ireland, Bora Bora, Chile,” you prompt him, tucking off your fingers. “Two more.”

“Greece.” Marcus decides and sends you a small smirk. “Rome.” He writes them down as well so they can be added to the trip bucket.

“Alright.” Dropping each slip into the ice bucket and stirring it around, you give it a few shakes for good measure before holding it high above either of your sight lines and angling it toward Marcus. “Go ahead. What’s our honeymoons going to be?”

Marcus grins and takes the bucket from your hands. “Let’s not pick now.” He teases. “Why don’t we pick at the end of our vacation?”

“You live to torture me!” You groan dramatically, dropping the ice bucket between you. “Do you really want to wait?”

“You don’t want to?” He teases, leaning in and kissing you playfully. “I guess we can decide now.” He rolls his eyes and picks the bucket up. “You choose. That way you can’t blame me.”

"Blame he says, as though they aren't all great choices." It calls for blowing a raspberry in his general direction, but you dip your hand into the ice bucket high above your head and swirl your fingers around to snag a single slip of paper. "Here we go," you intone dramatically, pulling the slip open and wiggling it around. "Looks like it's going to beeee..." Flipping the paper up, you grin at him. "Scotland!"

Marcus laughs at the glee on your face, knowing he would be happy going anywhere with you. “A stone cottage in the Scottish highlands where we walk the moors and burrow into each other in front of a roaring fire sounds perfect.” He puts on a thick Scottish accent for the dramatic flair.

"We can see the Highlands and the cities and go all over." Actually having a location picked out makes you giggle with excitement, and you lean over to kiss him before practically jumping out of bed. "Just like we can go explore this city right now. With clothes, of course."

“Now she can walk.” Marcus groans, climbing out of the bed after you. “What do you want to do before Ellis Island?”

"We should check what time the ferry runs." The concierge downstairs had given you a few ideas but ultimately you had decided to take the trip out to Ellis and Liberty Islands. It’s an important piece of American history and Agent Bailey won’t admit to it but she’s excited to look up her family from their crossing. "Why don't we grab a quick lunch? Give ourselves back some of the energy that we just burned off?"

“That sounds perfect.” He agrees, unable to resist grabbing a handful of your ass when you bend down to pick up your clothes. “Build up reserves for tonight.”

It's hardly a surprise when you and Marcus end up in a little café halfway between your hotel and the ferry to Ellis Island, ready to feast on French bistro classics for lunch. It's warm in the picturesque little restaurant and the snow is still falling without collecting on the sidewalk, so it's a picture-perfect winter day in the city.

“I think it’s safe to say that I will have to have the French onion soup.” Marcus tells you as he looks over the menu. “At least to start. What about you?”

"I think it's going to be a boeuf bourguignon day," you hum, spotting the item on the lunch menu and salivating over it immediately.

“Would you hate me for hurting Thumper if I had the rabbit cassoulet for the main?” He’s grinning and shrugging slightly.

"Not if you won't hate me for having cute little escargot for my first course." The one time he had expressed finding snails cute had obviously stuck with you, and since they're one of your favorite gourmet treats, it's a fair trade.

He huffs in feigned offense and sighs dramatically. “I suppose.” He jokes. “It’s only fair and I know it makes you happy.”

"What do you want to see first at the MET tomorrow?" The café is buzzing around you but you're happy in your little bubble. Just you and Marcus, cuddled together and happily plotting out the rest of your day.

“I’m not picky?” Marcus asks, playing with your fingers. “But Lady with a Parot and Perseus.” He rattles off with a guilty grin.

"Not picky, but two very specific choices." You grin at him, charmed all over again by the beauty and relaxation of the day. Agent Bailey is enjoying herself at a table across the café, also doing her best to relax despite being in the busy city. "Okay, you're on. And I want to track down Madame X."

“The American Wing.” Marcus instantly replies.

"That's my man." Of course he knows, that doesn't surprise you at all.

What does surprise you is the woman walking behind the hostess, currently approaching your table to be seated right next to you. "Vanessa?" Of all the gin joints in all the world, you think ruefully, but it's been so long since you heard from either her or Sam that you're just sort of shell shocked to see her instead of upset or angry about it.

Marcus turns to see the ex that he had hoped to never run into again - even more than Teresa - and wonders what the hell is about to happen. He warily glances behind her and around the smaller café. “This is a surprise.” He intones dryly.

“Just a coincidence.” Vanessa promises. She thanks the hostess and takes a seat, though she wishes there was literally any other table left. “I’m just having a bite after class. Forget I’m here.”

“Class?” That catches Marcus’s attention and he glances over at you to make sure that you are comfortable continuing the conversation. He feels like if there’s a change in the dynamic of your foes, you should learn all you can.

You nod subtly, but Vanessa doesn’t catch it. She’s thanking the waitress for her water. “Class,” she confirms when the waitress is gone. “I’m getting my master’s. I—” she looks between you, her former foes, and shrugs slightly. “A lot has changed.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” There’s no pressure to be applied, but it’s an offer. An olive branch, just like the one extended at the engagement party.

That’s a bit of a sticky question, but Vanessa nods. Her own is far less subtle than yours, as it’s meant to be seen. “I left Sam,” she begins, feeling that that is the most important news. “He was…he was getting out of control. There was never going to be an end to it as long as he had people on his side.”

Marcus squeezes your hand gently, the confirmation of it being on purpose was right there between the lines. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs quietly. “When you said you had discovered your soulmate, it was Sam, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Vanessa confirms. There’s no reason to beat around the bush after everything that’s happened. “He’s just…he’s not the man he was when I first fell in love with him. Not anymore.”

“Vanessa….” Marcus sighs softly. “What was the root of the issue? We didn’t cheat. Why was Sam so obsessed with hurting us?” He phrases it that way so she doesn’t feel like he’s attacking her, and because he honestly never really imagined Vanessa being the ringleader. Now it seems as if she was a hopeless idealist, blindly following her soulmate down the wrong path.

She sighs, biting her lip slightly, and looking between you both with regret shining in her eyes. "Birdie was supposed to be his ticket to the White House," she admits, although the confession isn't hers to make. "When Marcus appeared on the scene he started getting paranoid, and then...then when you broke up with him? He seemed like he was just taking it a little too hard in the beginning but he started to go down a dark path pretty quickly."

“Did he hurt you?” Marcus’s voice gets soft, his jaw tense at the idea of violence perpetrated against any woman, even one who has wronged him. “Or made threats against Birdie we should know about?”

"No. No, he never would have had the resolve to hurt me physically. And the only threats he made never worked out." Vanessa assures him. "The worst founded one was the engagement party. Whatever you two and your social media team did to get ahead of that, well done."

“You went along with it because he’s your soulmate?” Marcus guesses. “The rumors and the whispers that were being fed from somewhere?”

"I can't exactly defend myself." Vanessa twists in her chair to face you fully, so this conversation can be quiet. "I was jealous."

"Of me...for being with the man you were in love with." You finish her thought without effort, understanding the instinct fully but from the opposite direction. "I was jealous of you. When you were with Marcus. We just...we had things switched around, I guess."

Marcus frowns, never realizing that she had been so involved with her feelings in the brief relationship. “I thought…you were waiting for your soulmate and just having fun with me?”

"I was trying to get over Sam." This is bound to be an uncomfortable conversation of confessions for Vanessa, but she is going to tell the truth. "In a sense you were a rebound for a relationship I never had. And when I realized who my soulmate was I thought everything was finally going to work out the way I wanted. But...that was even more wrong than I ever could have guessed."

“I’m sorry.” Marcus murmurs softly. “I hope that one day, you find the love and happiness you have been searching for.”

"I think I have to love myself first." Vanessa shrugs her shoulders and laughs. "I know that sounds cheesy, but...I started seeing a therapist and I got myself into grad school, and taking control of my own life has been really good for me."

“That’s great.” Marcus assures her, squeezing your hand again and glancing at you. “I can tell you that therapy will be good for you. Doesn’t matter what you’re going through. Sometimes it’s good to just learn how to cope with life.”

"I'm doing my best." Marcus has always been a kind man. It's good to know that that is just who he is, and that Vanessa hadn't been so blinded to people's good natures as to have misjudged him at any point. "I really want to apologize to both of you. Some of the things we did...that I did for him...were truly despicable. If I could take it all back, I would."

It’s not his place to accept an apology, especially when most of the attacks were focused on you. He squeezes your hand again, and defers to you.

"I wish we could have made amends sooner." You tell her, gently squeezing Marcus's hand in return. "But I'm glad that things are looking up for you, Vanessa. And I hope they continue to go in a positive direction. Nobody deserves to be defined by their mistakes when they're trying to better themselves."

It’s a gracious acceptance of the offered apology and so on point for who you are that Marcus wants to kiss you. “I completely agree.” He adds. “You focus on yourself and things will work out for the best.”

"That's very kind of both of you." And probably more than she deserves, but Vanessa isn't going to split hairs when she's stumbled into the chance to move forward. "And very diplomatic. It's...it's very easy to see, from the outside, why you're such a beloved couple." A fact which had made you both difficult to tear down, and is probably why Sam failed so entirely.

“We had some not so diplomatic moments.” Marcus admits, feeling that she is owed some truth as well. “But we aren’t going to punish you for mistakes that you are owning up to and trying to rectify.”

"Thank you." Vanessa half-smiles, looking around the small café, and makes the decision for herself with a small feeling of relief letting her shoulders relax for the first time in longer than she cares to admit. "I should let you enjoy your lunch," she says after a pause, and she stands. "It...was good to run into you. To clear the air."

“Good luck.” He won’t ask her to stay and continue the conversation and neither will you, but he wishes her well as she gathers her things.

"That was...unexpected." You murmur, watching Vanessa cross the street outside quickly, and duck into a pub instead of the little café you're still sitting in.

“Yeah.” Marcus blows out a breath and picks up your other hand. “How do you feel about it?”

"Weirdly...good?" It feels awful to admit, but getting an apology from someone who was actively trying to ruin your life not so long ago feels incredibly settling. "Or at least it feels validating. To know that we weren't crazy in thinking that Sam really was trying to hurt us so actively." It also feels awful to know that you were right about your ex not caring about you during your entire relationship, but that is a separate issue.

He sees the frown and he brings your hands up to kiss them gently. “At least we know now. You know.”

“Knowing is good.” You can agree to that, even as downtrodden as you feel right now. You got out of the relationship, found your soulmate, and are getting married. Everything is falling into place in the best way possible. But the sticky, icky, despicable sensation in your chest at being used isn’t exactly nice. “It still doesn’t feel good, though.”

“No it doesn’t.” He knows that feeling in a sense. Looking back at things objectively, it seemed like Teresa used him to prod Jane along, to pull his buried feelings out of him. “Do you want to go back to the hotel?” He asks softly, hating how your shoulders are rounded and your voice has dipped down.

“No.” This awful feeling will pass, you’ll regain your good humor, and this weekend won’t be ruined by a chance encounter in a restaurant. You won’t let it happen. “Let’s enjoy our lunch.”

He wants to ask if you’re sure, but he doesn’t. Giving you a reassuring smile, he glances towards the waiter. “How about a glass of wine?”

Determined to smile and to not be upset over a relationship that you ended willingly to begin with, you sit up your seat, roll your shoulders back, and turn your eyes back to Marcus. “Something bubbly, I think? We’re on vacation, after all.”

He smiles and nods. “I think that is completely appropriate. And it looks like they have a nice champagne on the menu.”

“Perfect.” You squeeze Marcus’s hand gently, thanking him for sticking with you through the tidal waves of clashing emotions you’re dealing with.

“Not nearly as perfect as you are.” There’s an odd sense of relief to have that chapter firmly closed, at least on Vanessa’s end. “Hopefully nothing else will happen.”

“Fingers crossed.” Huffing a soft laugh, you just shrug your shoulders and get in with ordering your lunch. It does no good to dwell and ruin the time away you have with Marcus. No good at all.

Panting, Marcus stares at the ceiling, nearly giggling at the bubbly, blissed out exhaustion that settles in the very marrow of his body. “Good girl.” He praises. “Good fucking girl.” Your own body is collapsed in a spent heap and he trails his fingers over your spine as you come down from the last, most intense orgasm of the night.

A matching giggle bubbles out of you as you curl into his side, utterly spent and gazing up at him with moony eyes. “Baby…” you laugh again, and half-turn toward him lamely. Your wrists are still bound with the tie he wore out to dinner. “Can I have my hands back?”

“Maybe I like you all bound up for me.” He teases, turning and working on the knots that are now harder than what he had originally tied because of you pulling and tugging on the restraint. Eager to touch him and frustrated by your inability to do so. “Next time I’ll tie you to the bed.”

“We’ll be back in our big four poster at home tomorrow night.” With your hands free, you loop your arms around his neck to kiss him soundly. “I’m already looking forward to it.”

“There’s something about being at home, isn’t there?” He asks, his hand coming up and tenderly caressing your throat where he had held it as he pounded into you. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Perfect level of rough,” you promise. Experimenting with his more dominant side had turned into a much-loved habit over your year together, and though you don’t get rough every single time you have sex it is definitely something you both enjoy.

“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” He asks. “Water, a rag?” Sometimes you like to keep his cum inside you, sometimes you like to clean up right after. And after every rough session, he likes to dote on you.

“I should say water.” Your eyes gleam with mischief. “But do we have any more wine? That bottle we bought in the Village was amazing.”

He smirks at your cheeky response and leans in to bite your bottom lip. “Sure.” He hums before he is climbing off the bed to get the lovely wine the two of you indulged in before your romp.

Tonight is one of those nights that you both indulged in the fantasy of getting pregnant, and lying in bed with a glass of wine with the sticky slick combination of your cum slowly dripping from your pussy sounds like pure indulgence. Plus you stashed Marcus’s Valentine’s gift in the bedside table, so there’s that too. You grab it now and slip it under your pillow, waiting for him to come back.

Pouring two glasses he turns back to admire your sprawled form as he bites his lip. It’s Valentine’s Day and the two of you have completely indulged today. Now, he needs to give you the gift he had picked out months ago.

“What’s that look for?” You hum, grinning back at him when he returns to your side in bed. “Did you suddenly remember how amazingly lucky I am to have you as my soulmate?”

“More like I remember how lucky I am.” He retorts. “I have a wonderful, sexy woman who indulges my desires and matches them.”

“So I guess we’re both lucky, then.” He hands you your glass and you take a sip, glad that you opted for a white wine tonight so you won’t accidentally ruin the sheets if you get playful. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles as he leans in to take a kiss from your wine soaked lips. “Have you enjoyed our weekend away?”

“To me it’s been perfect.” There are more kisses for both of you, never able to have enough of tasting or even just being near each other. “Have you enjoyed it too?”

“Hell yes I have.” He promises. “It’s been an incredible weekend, one we needed. No work, just us.”

“I’m just glad we both got through the weekend without any work emergencies.” The inn is in good hands, as Selena has finished her training to become your new manager and she and Malachi are running the place as smoothly as ever between them in your absence.

“Yeah, me too.” He takes a sip of the wine and sighs softly. “Part of me doesn’t want to go back. Just live in the hotel and run away from responsibility.”

“You would miss work pretty soon.” He loves his job, and you know that. It’s a very serious point of pride even though it’s very taxing on him sometimes. “My offer still stands, my love. Whenever you decide to retire from the FBI, you have my full support.”

“I know, and I’m very grateful for your support.” He promises. “It will come eventually, but I’m happy in my career right now and my team is excellent.”

“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” you promise him. With Marcus it’s always about support and communication, so having the small check-ins often is key.

“How about you?” He asks. “The inn is becoming even more popular and nearly full every night.”

“It’s nice that we’re not seeing the after affects of the smear campaign anymore.” It seems like the good will from your social media posts surrounding wedding planning has really worked to verse the damage Sam did months ago, and ever since the holidays the inn has been booked solid. “I’ve been thinking about adding an afternoon tea,” you admit, giving him a sheepish look. “Syd’s sous chef is English and French trained and the three of us were thinking about trying out an Italian-inspired tea service for Mother’s Day.”

“Like the tea cakes and sandwiches?” Marcus smirks slightly. “I can see that being a real draw.” He admits. “Older ladies coming in to socialize and then young girls coming in to learn how to take tea. Paninis and cannolis. Cups of tiramisu.”

“Teacups full of individual tiramisu was Syd’s first idea.” It’s sweet to see him get excited and you glow with pride. “I thought it would be nice to give Syd this Mother’s Day off but she came back with a whole new business idea.”

“I think she’s imagining Constance having tea there, with our girls when they are old enough.” Marcus smiles at the thought.

“It’s a beautiful thought.” The dreaminess on his face is obvious, making your heart swell at the promise of growing the family you’re building with this man. Your other half. Your better half. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He promises softly, his own dreams for the future in his eyes. “I have your present, to show you how much.”

“I thought my roses were my present?” In fact, you and Marcus must have given the hotel staff a good chuckle this weekend, because you both ordered a dozen long stem red roses to the hotel room — addressed to each other — that arrived with your breakfast tray with room service this morning.

He gives you a look, one that tells you that you are being ridiculous and moves to his bag to pull out the lovely wrapped gift he had brought for you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you laugh, sliding his gift out from under your pillow to hand over to him.

He huffs at you, even as a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You should know that roses were going to be your only Valentine’s Day gift.” He hadn’t been expecting anything, and his eyes soften at the sight of a gift for him.

“They weren’t going to be your only gift either,” you tut. But sitting up together in your hotel bed, naked with glasses of wine and hearts utterly full, seems like the perfect time to exchange gifts. “This looks suspiciously like a jewelry box, Agent Pike.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” Marcus pleads his innocence, even as he smirks.

“Mmhmm.” Giggling to yourself all over again, you nudge Marcus’s package toward him so you can both open them at the same time.

“I need you to open yours first.” He wants to watch your expression and put it on you if you want.

“Very mysterious.” You eye him but obey, pulling open the ribbon on the little wrapped box and tear away the dark red paper to reveal a silver jewelry box — exactly as you suspected. When you remove the lid, a small gasp of surprise and wide eyes come with an open mouth reaction. “Is this…?” The delicate silver necklace inside has a heart pendant hanging from it in the center, but the back clasp is on display in the box: a lock, not a claw.

“A collar.” Marcus nods, watching you seriously as he picks up the small, ornate key and showing it to you. “We’ve talked about it, teasing about it, but I found this and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

"Honey, it's beautiful." To the outside observer, the inconspicuous little heart is a sweet token of love from your soulmate. For you and Marcus, it's a next step into the world that you've been exploring together. "I wouldn't have been able to stop thinking about it, either."

“You know you have me, every single part of me, and I have you.” He reaches out and caresses your neck. “This would be between us. Our little secret from the world. My claim on you.”

The little lock on the necklace is meant to be done for you, and you raise your eyes back to Marcus. "Will you do the honors?"

“Do you want to wear my collar, sweetheart?” He asks seriously. “Keeping me close to your heart every day?”

"I really do," you lean across the small expanse to kiss him, just as soft and steadily as the rhythm of your heartbeat. "Even though you're already in my heart every single day. This is just another way to show the whole world."

Marcus hums as you hold out the necklace to him and he carefully unlocks it. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t take it off.” He tells you as he wraps it around your neck and closes the lock to secure it around your neck.

"I know I can always ask you." There are some occasions when it won't be appropriate -- State dinners, your wedding, the fanciest things that you'll do in your lives -- but each and every day of your life the necklace will either go on or off and that means that Marcus will always be with you even when he's away.

Once the necklace is locked around your neck, Marcus leans in and presses his lips to it and your skin gently.

"I feel a bit like I underdid it now," you admit, touching the necklace gently with your fingertips. "But I still hope you like it."

He snorts, not even able to imagine you not putting incredible thought and time into his gift. He picks up the box and shakes it like a kid at Christmas, grinning at you. “Nahhhh, sounds fun.”

"Oh yeah." You snort and wave one hand casually. "I figured Lincoln Logs were the most romantic gift possible."

He laughs and shakes his head as he starts to unwrap the beautiful paper. “Whatever it is, I appreciate you getting me something.” He murmurs. “A lot of women seem to think valentines is only for them.”

"You are the most romantic man on the planet." While he works open the paper you lean back in the pillows and toy with your new necklace. "I couldn't possibly leave you out of the celebration this weekend. That would be awful."

“You would be surprised how often it happens.” He knows you wouldn’t and it makes him appreciate you even more. “Babe….” he freezes when he opens the box and sees the lighter that is nestled into the protective fabric. “Is this— it’s a 1939-45 World War II Trench lighter.” He murmurs, admiring how the patina on the metal is meticulously cared for. “How did you know to get this?”

The awe on his face is enough to tell you that you made the right decision, and you leave a kiss on his cheek with pleasure. "I may have dug in your eBay search history a little," you admit without shame. "Your lighter collection is a point of pride and I know you want to keep growing it."

“I- I love it.” He promises you, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “So many of these have been lost or discarded but they all have so many stories ingrained in every flick of the flint.”

"The shop I got it from had a little history of previous owners." The handwritten card is tucked inside the lid of the cigar box, and you nudge Marcus to keep going. "You have to keep unwrapping, though."

“There’s more?” He huffs, rolling his eyes playfully and carefully setting the lighter aside to pull out a box of cigars. “Very nice.”

His smile makes you glow, so happy to see him accepting these shows of love and tokens of affection. "Now that you have a porch to sit out on at night, I thought you should be able to enjoy an indulgence you couldn't have while living in an apartment or the inn."

“That is as long as you don’t hate the smell.” He eyes you, even as he opens the box and pulls out a cigar to smell, groaning at the aroma.

"I called your dad to make sure I got the ones you and he smoke when we're in Texas," you admit. "So I already know I like the smell of these."

“Good.” He chuckles quietly and kisses you again. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He asks. “The universe couldn’t have chosen better.”

"I was just thinking the same about you." Nudging his nose with yours brings a smile to both of your faces. The perfectly contented kind of smile that is somehow both enraptured and at peace all at once. "So I'm very glad we agree."

“That’s why we are soulmates.” He reasons, giddy to be celebrating the holiday with his soulmate, his fiancée and the woman he will spend the rest of his life with.

______

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