The reception was crowded. The laughter echoed off the richly damasked walls and polished tiled floor, above the insistent bass beat throbbing from the speakers. Warm golden lighting played off gleaming grins and glowing cheeks, sequins and satin and polished brass, buffed fingernails and champagne flutes. Nancy let herself be lost in it, the ceaseless congratulations, handshakes, hugs, knowing comments about how much their lives would change after tonight.
Ned was never far from her side, especially not tonight, and the desire she saw in his dark eyes when he thought no one else was looking their way… well. She was already a little overwhelmed, and when she gave his hand a little squeeze and faintly shrugged in the direction of the French doors, he just cast a casual glance around to head off any potential obstacles as he followed her lead.
The briefest of showers that afternoon had scared most of the guests away from the outdoor areas, but the pool had been done, and it was breathtaking. Under the shatterproof dancing surface, bobbing gently in the most serene currents, dozens of warm flickering candles seemed to float on the water.
The music was easily heard here, and the softer volume made Nancy close her eyes in temporary relief as she walked easily into Ned's arms and began to sway with him. Oh, they wouldn't sneak away, much as she'd love to. There was still the formal seeing-off. No way they would leave before that.
They could see the stars overhead, and Nancy chuckled as she glanced up. Stars on the wedding invitations, the tablecloths, the wedding party favors. How good of the real ones to put in an appearance.
"Somehow I never thought…" Nancy shrugged when she trailed off, indicating the party going on inside with a vague gesture.
"That we'd get here? No kidnapping or vandalized bridesmaid dresses or blackmail plots?" Ned smiled.
"Yeah. All that."
His expression shifted slightly. "Would you change anything?" he asked softly.
She kept her gaze steady on his and shook her head slowly. "I bet you would, though."
Ned clasped his hand to his chest in response to a feigned wound, made all the more difficult by how close they were dancing. She followed the rhythm of his hips now without conscious thought, just the muscle memory of a thousand other nights like this.
Though there would only be one night like this.
"Maybe one thing," she amended.
"Do tell." His lips were curved up. Her husband was a happy man, and seeing him smile was contagious, especially with the glowing pride in his expression tonight.
"That one trip to South America."
"That one," he repeated, musingly. "I wish that narrowed it down."
"The container ship."
He nodded. "Mmm. Yeah. I'd have loved to make a few different choices on that one."
"You would have?" She scoffed. "All it would have taken was the security footage twenty-four hours earlier and a cop who wasn't on the take."
"True." He swooped her into a twirl, then a dip that left her laughing, her eyes aglow. "And at least we didn't have to pay for all that damage."
"Only because the ship was in international waters." Her eyes twinkled. "Twelve feet of it was, anyway."
Ned burst into laughter. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's a miracle we made it to tonight."
She searched his eyes, her grin fading to a smile. "It feels like everything is going to be different," she admitted. "As though I'll wake up tomorrow and…"
"And the world will be tilted a half-degree from where it is today," he said, leading her into another turn. "Kind of terrifying?"
She nodded, then ducked her head. "I'm sure that sounds silly."
"Hey," he murmured, and hooked a finger under her chin. She glanced up and met his gaze again. "Remember who you're talking to. I'm the sappy sentimental one."
"How ridiculous of me to forget."
"So tomorrow morning, to take my mind off things, I expect you to glance up from a newspaper article and casually comment that you have a few ideas about where the long-lost heiress might be, or how the jewels might have been smuggled out of the museum."
Nancy raised her eyebrows. "And here I was, imagining that I'd be in no condition to read the morning news," she said, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.
"Expecting to be crammed into a shipping container again? Zip ties, parched, sweaty…"
"Which only helped us get loose faster," she reminisced.
"And then your clothes were already practically in shreds anyway," he sighed.
"And we had to wait so long for the guards' shift change…"
"Almost like waiting for this send-off." He shook his head. "Tonight has been… overwhelming, and I know it'll take a while to adjust. But I'm so happy."
She smiled and nodded. Her eyes had begun to gleam. She started to say something, then buried her face against her husband's shoulder.
He stroked her hair, very gently. "So strange," he murmured. "When it was us and we woke up alone together in the same bed, and it was…"
"Everything," she whispered, her voice muffled against him.
"And tomorrow… we'll wake up alone."
She sniffled. "Oh, don't remind me. I don't want my makeup to be a wreck when we're saying goodbye."
"It was gonna happen anyway," he said softly. "No one will think any less of you. It would probably be weird if you didn't cry."
"You're forgetting. I'm not the sappy romantic one."
He ducked down and caught her lips in a long, sweet kiss that had her clinging to him. "I'll try not to ruin your reputation," he murmured, his voice just a little breathless, just a little rough from wanting, and her heart skipped a beat.
"My heart's been walking around outside my body for so long," she sighed. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now."
"Never," he said lightly. "It never gets easier. You'll live for calls and letters."
"Holidays." Nancy covered her mouth with a hand. "Oh God. The 'now we're three' call."
Ned laughed. "We'll at least have a few weeks before that happens."
"We'll see," Nancy said darkly. "I'm not ready for a lot of things, but especially not that."
Ned smiled, that warm glowing smile that he used only on his family and especially on her, the one that made her warm down to her toes. "I remember a certain spunky fifteen year old telling me she wasn't afraid of anything and especially not me."
"First, if you ever call me 'spunky' again, even in retrospect, I…" She shuddered.
"Consider me thoroughly chastened and warned off while also deeply intrigued by whatever punishment you'd cook up."
"Nothing good," she said with a glare. "Second… I'm not afraid."
"It's okay to be," he said mildly, as they turned again.
"Sure. I'm just not ready. I thought I was and it's not my choice, at all… I love her, I trust her, and I'm still… wishing we'd had more time."
"She's not going to Mars."
"Don't jinx this." She frowned.
Ned gave her a squeeze. "Remember that first month? The first year? All the ways we fucked up?"
She nodded with a groan.
"Well. Now we get to do it right. Relearn how to live together. To be ourselves and have fun and…"
"Date again," she filled in. "Go on dates and make out in the hallway without groans and 'that's so gross.'"
"Exactly." Ned smiled. "So, my love, marry me again. We'll chase fireflies and go on road trips without worrying that Cole might set the microwave on fire again—"
"'Which was one time,'" they chorused, then laughed together.
Nancy was still chuckling as she gently wiped her eyes. "I would be scared," she admitted. "If they weren't great, if we hadn't taught them so much… and if I didn't have you."
"Could it be," Ned murmured, searching her eyes, his gaze falling to her lips, "that some sappy romance has rubbed off on you…?"
She stood on her tiptoes, cupping his cheek. "Guess you'll have to take me home and find out."