Author Topic: Farewell, Dear George  (Read 585 times)

Victoria Granger

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Farewell, Dear George
« on: February 28, 2015, 09:50:10 AM »
Maple Grove Manor was usually a pretty quiet place, though lately with two small children and a very active dog, it had become a little more lively than usual. Not that anyone was complaining. Even Old Man Granger seemed happier these days, and though he grumbled every now and then about one thing or another, everyone knew his bark was worse than his bite. Now that baby Benjamin was nearing a year old, everyone in the house was sleeping longer and better and there were fewer short tempers to deal with. As far as today was concerned, Jon was on break between plays at the Shanachie and looking over some mail and a few scripts Liv had sent his way with a big sticky note on one of them for him to pay special attention to.

Cosmo had appointed himself Emily's guardian this evening, following the tottering toddler around as she explored the main rooms of their suite, pulling herself hand over hand along furniture while her feet stumbled and righted themselves. Confident in the dog's ability to prevent a disaster from occurring, Vicki had one foot on Ben's rocker, gently keeping up the rhythm that was lulling the little boy into his morning nap as she scribbled notes on the designs for upcoming productions at the theater.

"This is really good," Jon mused aloud, as he flipped a page of the booklet in front of him and took a sip from his mug. "No wonder Liv wanted me to read it," he said, obviously to Vicki since neither Cosmo, Emily, or Ben could care less.

She looked up from her work, brushing a wayward hank of red hair out of her face with a smile. "What's that, stud muffin?" she asked curiously, slipping the glasses that she had finally been talked into getting for work off her nose. She hated the things, but she had to admit, the headaches weren't coming anywhere near as often now she was wearing them on a regular basis.

"Well, it's probably a conflict of interest, but it's the script for Rhy'Din Nights. I don't know how Liv got her hands on it, but I guess Michael's looking for a studio to produce it and someone to star in it. I'm just not sure I want to get involved with another film project," he said, wondering why Mataya hadn't mentioned it, unless Michael was peddling it on his own without his sister-in-law's knowledge.

"Knowing Liv, she pinched it out of someone else's mailbox," Vicki pointed out in amusement. "She's been trying to push it on you since word got out that Michael finished his adaption." She grinned at her husband, rubbing the back of her neck as she leaned back, her foot never stilling from the gentle rock that kept their son from bursting everyone's eardrums with his complaints about life in general and teething in particular. "Pros and cons?"

"Liv wouldn't do that, would she?" Jon asked, lifting his brows. He couldn't quite imagine Liv doing anything that bold, but maybe he was wrong. "Of producing or starring?" he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Whichever one attracts you most," she said, twisting to face him, her chin propped on one hand. "The immediate attraction of producing is that you don't have to do any of the PR if you don't want to, I know that. But I think in order to produce it, you would have to set up a company, rather than simply put money in."

"We sort of already have a company," he pointed out, though he and Mataya had only produced one movie together, and that movie had been mostly finished. All it had really needed was some editing and distribution. That was a far cry from producing a film from start to finish. "This PR would be different from Fifty Shades...," he pointed out. And probably different from Swan Song, too, as they were all entirely different movies. "First of all, it takes place on Rhy'Din, so I'm assuming it would be filmed here, which means no trips to Earth. That's a plus."

"It would be released on Earth, though," she pointed out, "and that still means a PR tour. But as both a producer and as an actor, you have the pull to be able to get a couple of names on the cast that would naturally open doors."

"If Mataya's in, I'm in, but I'm not sure I'd want to do it alone," Jon remarked. He didn't really feel he knew enough about producing to do it all on his own, but if Mataya wanted in, they might be able to do it together. He let the script fall closed, one hand resting on the cover, as he arched a curious brow at his wife. He could almost see the wheels turning in her pretty little head. "What names?"

"Well, I haven't read the script, but I have read the book," she said musingly. "Shame Elena's not acting anymore, but she's got a twin on Earth. Kaley ... something or other. Seems about right for the female lead. And H.B.C. would be perfect for the muse."

"Cuoco?" Jon asked, the only Kaley he'd ever heard of in the industry. "You think she looks like Elena?" He thought about that a moment. "I guess there is a resemblance, but how the hell am I supposed to get her and H.B.C. on board for a film made in and about Rhy'Din?" he asked, puzzled. "Besides, I'm not sure I can afford them." He sighed. "Probably better to pass and let a big studio have it," he said, though the lead was tempting and it had been over a year since he'd done Swan Song.

"You know as well as I do that if the script is that good, people will fall over themselves to sign up to it, regardless of whether or not they get paid their usual fee," his wife pointed out cheerfully. "And I highly doubt that anything Michael writes can be classed as anything other than good. But you will need at least one big name, if only to secure the additional funding."

"What if that big name was me?" he asked, unsure how his wife might feel about him taking another film role when they had two small children to care for and were both juggling careers at the theater. It might not be so bad, though, if filming was taking place on Rhy'Din. Even if it wasn't, he'd managed before. It wasn't the filming so much as the PR he hated.

"That is entirely your decision, love," she told him with a wry smile. "As I said, even if it is filmed on Rhy'Din, it'll be released on Earth, because the book was published on Earth. That means another PR tour, and only you can say whether or not you're happy to do that. I'm not going to make the decision for you, no matter how much you wheedle me." She grinned at him, ruthless in leaving that one up to him.

"You're not helping, Vicki," Jon countered, half teasing, half serious. It wasn't just about getting his wife's opinion or advice regarding his career, but what she thought was best for their marriage, too. "Don't make me ask Mataya because we both know what she'll say."

Vicki laughed, shaking her head. "Well, we both know that she'd give me indefinite leave if I asked, so if you go to Earth, the family is going with you, no question there," she reminded him in amusement. "It's still your decision, love."
[size=9:4b2050a61b][color=green:4b2050a61b][i:4b2050a61b]The miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.[/i:4b2050a61b][/color:4b2050a61b][/size:4b2050a61b]

Victoria Granger

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Re: Farewell, Dear George
« Reply #1 on: February 28, 2015, 09:52:05 AM »
"I'd rather act than produce," he said, weighing the pros and cons, like she said. "But producing could prove lucrative, and I could do that and still fulfill my commitment with the theater." Then again, he was pretty sure he could star in the lead and still fulfill most of those commitments, as well. He sighed. "I suppose I'll have to see what 'Tay thinks." She wasn't just his best friend, but his business partner, too.

"You make talking to Mataya sound like a painful rite of passage," she laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "Look, she's ditsy as all hell, but she does know the business side of the business a hell of a lot better than you do, Jon. Try asking for her opinion without mentioning specifics - the second she knows this script is out there, she's going to want to get it made any way she can."

"You don't think she knows already when it's her brother in law who wrote it?" he asked. "She's probably the one who suggested he send it to Liv!" Jon said, not putting it past Mataya. She probably read the thing and immediately thought of him for the lead, if not the producer. "I should make her be in it with me. We could be the next Bogey and Bacall."

"If she knew about it, why would she give it to Liv and not bounce all over you in that persuasive way she has?" Vicki pointed out through her smile. "And as much as I love you both, you don't want to be the next anyone. You want to be Granger and De Luca, and remembered as such."

"I don't know. Maybe it's something she thinks I'd be interested in doing, but she's not." He shrugged, uncertainly. "I've never been able to read that woman's mind," he grumbled. "I suppose I should give her a call," he said, as though it was a chore, when in fact, he was just afraid of catching her at a bad time.

"Jon-boy, you're over thinking this far too much," his wife told him, finally easing her foot from the rocker as Ben sighed in his sleep. She smiled down at their youngest, glancing up as a thought occurred to her. "I haven't heard Cosmo or Emily recently."

Jon frowned at his wife, knowing she was probably right, but he didn't want to make a commitment to doing something he'd regret later. He couldn't very well say he regretted starring in the Fifty Shades trilogy. After all, they'd paid him a small fortune to do it, but the film he was most proud of was Swan Song. He just wasn't sure if it was going to be his swan song, as far as film roles were concerned. All of this that was plaguing his mind was completely forgotten as soon as Vicki mentioned Cosmo and Emily, who'd suddenly become a little too quiet. He immediately pushed to his feet in search of the pair, before they got themselves into trouble, though he knew they couldn't have gotten very far. "Emmy!" he called. "Where are you, sweetheart?"

Vicki raised a brow as she listened with him, wondering what their little bundle of trouble had done with herself now. There was no noise from Emily, but a quiet bark went up from the bedroom - Cosmo, betraying his little mistress in the hope of being rewarded by the adults.

Jon hastened toward the sound of Cosmo's quiet bark. At least, it wasn't his "something is wrong" bark. That was comforting, but Jon wasted no time, long legs carrying him into the bedroom in a matter of seconds.

There was a moment of silence before Jon's voice was heard again. "Emily, no!" he called, in a voice that was tinged with horror.

Silence didn't really bother Vicki too much at the moment, but she was going to have to learn to distinguish between the qualities of the silences around her. Given Jon's apparently horrified reaction to what he'd found in the bedroom, maybe this was one silence she should have been paying closer attention to. Giving Ben a quick check over to make sure he really was asleep, she rose herself, moving to the bedroom door. "What's happened?"

What she found was Jon crouched down on the floor beside Emily and Cosmo, the three of them peering at a small something that was lying on the floor. "It's George," he told his wife without taking his eyes off that something. "I think he's committed hari-kari. Can you get something to wrap him up in?" he asked as he plucked Emily up off the floor. "No, no, no, we don't eat dead goldfish, Emmykins. They are germy and blechy and not good for you," he told her, making the appropriate expression so she'd get her father's point.

There was a beautiful moment where Vicki struggled to put the appropriate expression on her face, and then utterly failed. She couldn't help it - seeing the three of them looking down at the mournful sight of goldfish George dead on the carpet with such interest was a little bit too much for her merry temper to handle. As Emily stuck her tongue out in an echo of Jon's expression, her mother sagged against the door-frame, cackling like a witch and holding her stomach.

Jon gasped, looking horrified at his wife's reaction to George's untimely demise. To be fair, the fish had probably more than outlived his lifespan, especially considering he'd been won in an outdoor fair and spent the majority of his short life in a goldfish bowl. "What are you laughing about?" Jon asked, as though he was actually offended by Vicki's reaction to the fish's death. "We've had George almost since our first date. I've grown attached to the little guy." Assuming George was a boy fish. George or Georgie. How did you tell the difference anyway?

"Oh, sweetheart, if you could only see what I'm seeing right now ..." Vicki spluttered, trying to get a grip on herself but not exactly succeeding. She brushed her hair back out of her face, taking a deep breath as she set her eyes onto Emily. "Just how did George get out of the bowl, hmm?"

The two-year-old offered up the most disingenuous expression she could manage - and with her daddy's big blue eyes, it was pretty good - and shrugged. "Jump?"

"Are you suggesting...?" Jon broke off to give a pointed glance at their daughter. She couldn't have gotten her little hand in there and scooped him out, could she? Would she? No, he refused to believe it. George must have jumped. "Well, there's only one thing to do now, and that's flush him."

He had more faith in their daughter's inability to end a life out of sheer curiosity than Vicki did, but she wasn't going to disabuse him of that faith. Holding her smile, she called the dog to her, pointing into the living room where Ben was sleeping. "Cosmo, guard." Wagging his tail excitedly, the collie trotted out to curl up next to the sleeping baby as Vicki looked to Jon once more. "Flush him?"

"Well, at least they didn't eat him," Jon said glumly, as he watched the dog go. It was likely Cosmo's vigilant watch over Emily that had prevented her from putting the dead fish in her mouth. "Here, you take the fishkiller. I'm gonna get something to wrap him up in," he said as he passed their innocent daughter to her mother.
[size=9:4b2050a61b][color=green:4b2050a61b][i:4b2050a61b]The miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.[/i:4b2050a61b][/color:4b2050a61b][/size:4b2050a61b]

Victoria Granger

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Re: Farewell, Dear George
« Reply #2 on: February 28, 2015, 09:53:00 AM »
Taking Emily into her arms, Vicki finally managed to notice how the fish's death was upsetting her husband. She laid a gentle hand on his arm. "He's just a fish, love," she reminded him gently. "He shouldn't even have lasted this long. Most fun fair fish don't make it through a month."

"I know," he said, frowning a little. Were those tears in his eyes? "It's just... He was my first pet, and we won him together, so he felt kind of special to me. And he was kind of cute, don't you think?" Okay, it was just a fish. If Jon's reaction to losing a goldfish was anything to go by, if anything ever happened to Cosmo, he was going to be devastated. "It's okay. He lived a long, happy life." Jon smiled through his soft-hearted tears and kissed his wife's lips. "It's okay, Emmykins. It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have left George's bowl where you could reach it." He touched a kiss to her cheek before heading off to fetch some toilet tissue to wrap poor George up in for his "burial at sea".

Vicki smiled softly into that kiss, stroking his cheek as he stepped away to bury the poor unfortunate George. Her eyes turned to Emily, who was a bit oblivious to what had happened in the first place. "Okay, Emmy ... want to make Daddy happy?" she asked brightly, to which the toddler nodded enthusiastically. "Right then, coloring it is."

It didn't take too long for Jon to bid farewell to his first pet. He mumbled a few words in parting, too quiet for Vicki to hear, and then she'd hear the sound of the toilet flushing, sending poor little George away to the happy fishy hunting grounds, wherever they were. He drained and cleaned out the fishbowl and washed his hands because pet or not, George and his home had smelled pretty disgusting before rejoining his wife and children. "Well, that's that, I guess. He's gone to fishy heaven."

"Oh, sweetheart." Vicki had managed to regain her composure while he was performing his fishy funeral, rising to her feet from where she had installed Emily with crayons and paper to wrap her arms around Jon affectionately. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jon assured her. "I mean, he's just a fish, right? And like you said, he lived a lot longer than most fair fish. He had a good long life with us. I'm fine," he assured her, leaning his forehead against hers. "Sorry. I know it's silly to get upset about it."

"No, it isn't silly, love," she promised him, leaning into him as they held each other. "I'm sorry I laughed. He was your first pet, of course you're going to be a little upset that he's gone. But he had a good life, all the food he could eat, and no cats trying to hook him out of his bowl. Shouldn't mourn over that."

"I'm okay, but I don't think I want another goldfish for a while," he admitted. Would there ever be another fish like George? Probably not. At least, Jon didn't think so right now. "He was a good fish, and now, he's gone to swim with the other fishies in that great big ocean in heaven." If goldfish even went to heaven.

She smiled, trying not to laugh at the idea that there was a heaven for fish, drawing him into her arms to hug him close, one hand stroking his curls with warm affection. "Right now, we have Cosmo, and his two masters of crime," she reminded her husband tenderly. "I think they may be more than enough to be going along with."

He went straight into her arms, in need of a little comfort, even though it was just a goldfish. "It's not that so much. It's just... Whenever I saw him, it reminded me of our outing at the fair. That's all. It was only our second date. Winning that goldfish together, it was like we were making our first commitment to each other. I know it sounds silly," he tried to explain. It wasn't about the goldfish so much as the memories that were tied up in him.

As he spoke, Vicki felt the beginnings of an idea work its way into her mind, smiling gently against his neck. It was easily accomplished. "I know, love," she promised him. "But the memories are still there, even without George to remind you of them. You really think I'm ever going to forget you curing me of vertigo with a kiss on top of the Ferris wheel? Or the sight of you winning that goldfish and being absolutely certain it would die the second we got it home?"

"And it... he lived... for almost four years!" he pointed out with a smile. It was almost unprecedented for a fair fish to have survived so long. Maybe it was symbolic somehow of their own relationship. He'd worried in the beginning that she'd tire of him and leave him, but here they were, several years later, still happily married and with a couple of kids besides. "You waited a long time for me. Was it worth it?"

She smiled fondly up at him, fingers stroking through his hair. "That is the single most ridiculous question you have ever asked me," she told him, her voice warm with loving tenderness. "I always knew this was where we would end up. You were the one that was waiting without knowing what was coming. Was it worth it?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, with a chuckle as he drew her closer. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I don't have to remember my past to know that. I love you, Vicki. You're an amazing woman, and you make me very happy," he assured her leaning in for a kiss that he hoped proved his point.

His kiss found her smile as she curled her arms around him, more than happy to pour her own point into that kiss even as he made his. "So why ask such a silly question?" she asked him teasingly. "We have two little monsters in the room. And you know what? We made them. They're ours. Proof enough?"

"Proof enough," he agreed with a smile. "What do you say you tuck the two rugrats into bed while I call Mataya, and then we'll prove it another way?" he asked with a smirk and a playful twinkle in his eyes. Somehow, despite busy schedules and a couple of kids, their love life had never faltered.

Vicki laughed. "Only if you promise exclaim beautifully over what Emmy's drawing for you first," she told him, tapping her finger against his nose. The two-year-old was painstakingly coloring in what, on first glance, looked like a large orange blob surrounded by green squiggles on a mass of blue. Only a parent could spot George the goldfish in there.

"When haven't I?" he asked with that same smirk. "Besides, I'm an actor, remember?" He brushed a kiss against her nose before pulling away to see what Emily was doing.

Grinning, Vicki drew away to gently ease the dozing Ben up into her arms and head for the nursery, hoping like hell she could give him a quick change and put him down before the movement snapped him into full screamathon mode once again. Emily looked up at her daddy, half-toothed mouth open in a hopeful smile as she held up her masterpiece for him to admire.

He had a feeling Vicki had inspired or cajoled Emily into creating the drawing, but he was still touched at their little girl's effort to make her father feel better, whether it was a conscious one or not. He recognized the likeness of George on the paper, if only because of the big orange blob surrounded by a sea of blue. He suddenly felt horrible for calling her a fishkiller, even though he hadn't meant anything by it at the time. "That's lovely, Ems," he told her. "How about we hang it on the fridge?" The place where all good parents displayed their children's works of art, until they were replaced by new works of art.
[size=9:4b2050a61b][color=green:4b2050a61b][i:4b2050a61b]The miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.[/i:4b2050a61b][/color:4b2050a61b][/size:4b2050a61b]

Victoria Granger

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Re: Farewell, Dear George
« Reply #3 on: February 28, 2015, 09:54:09 AM »
"George," she told him solemnly, pointing at the orange blob. "Toilet." Proving that, despite her apparent oblivious tendencies, Emily Rose Granger paid far more attention to her parents than they thought. They were going to have to start keeping a lid on swear words sooner rather than later.

Jon frowned a little, more at his daughter's over-observant astuteness than anything else. He didn't want her to feel bad over the loss of the fish or the fact that he'd scolded her. "George had to go bye-bye, Emmy. He's-he's in heaven with the angels now." Did fish even go to heaven, if there was such a place? He didn't know, but he thought it was easier to explain things that way. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's hang George on the fridge," he said, scooping her up off the floor and into his arms to carry her into the small kitchen that was part of the suite of rooms they shared at Maple Grove.

Emily went easily into his arms, cuddling her daddy about the neck as he headed for the kitchen. She didn't have the first idea quite what had happened to George, or why he was in the toilet instead of his bowl, but Mummy had said drawing a picture of George would make Daddy happy, so that's what she had done.

"Someday when you're a little older, maybe we'll get you a pet of your own, when you're old enough to learn how to take care of it," he told her, though she likely didn't really understand what he was saying. Not a fish, though. Something she could get close to. A kitten or a puppy, maybe. He wasn't quite sure. He wasn't sure how Cosmo would react to another pet in the house, but he seemed to get along well with the other dogs at the Grove, so Jon wasn't too worried. Convincing Vicki might be another story, though. Somehow, he managed to tack the drawing up on the fridge with a magnet, while juggling the little girl in his arms. "There we go. How's that?" he asked, admiring the work of art that now decorated the fridge, along with some previous works.

"Got doggie," the little girl offered up innocently. She was absolutely convinced that Cosmo belonged to her and her alone, despite the fact that the only people the collie actually obeyed were Jon and Vicki. "Funny doggie," she added with a giggle, hugging Jon tighter about the neck for a long moment.

Jon chuckled at his daughter's innocent observation. "Or he has us," he said, mostly to himself. He couldn't help wondering what things were going to be like as Emily's grasp of language improved. He supposed they were going to have to start being careful what they said around her. "Shall we go say night night to Mummy and Ben and Cosmo?"

She nodded happily. Bedtime had become much less of a battleground now that Ben and Emily were going down at roughly the same time - no more need for jealousies over one spending more time with Mummy and Daddy than the other. "Teef," Emily reminded him. She might not have many yet, but she was going to look after them.

He chuckled again at the reminder, both amused and impressed at the little girl's insistence on following the bedtime routine her mother had laid out for her. He couldn't deny they were good habits to get into. "And teef," he said in agreement, hauling her off to get ready for bed.

An hour later, when story, cuddles, "teef", and finally bed had happened, Vicki thumped down onto the couch with a low groan. "I thought she'd never decide which book she wanted," she laughed a little helplessly, tucking her hair back from her face.

"Let me guess. Frozen again?" he said. He'd seen the movie so many times, he could practically recite the lines and had often sang along with the songs, much to Emily's delight, especially when Cosmo joined in. "I called 'Tay. We're going to meet for lunch tomorrow to discuss the script," he told her, winding an arm around his amazing but exhausted wife as she thumped down beside him.

"Mmm, sounds like a plan," she smiled, leaning into him comfortably. "And no. I hid Frozen a couple of days ago, hence the ridiculous amount of time it took to decide what story she wanted before bed." She snorted with laughter quietly. "We ended up with Snow White."

"And she didn't cry for it?" he asked, equally surprised and relieved. As good as the film was, he was starting to get tired of it after seeing it over and over again. Like most little girls, even little Emily seemed obsessed with it, and Jon couldn't quite figure out why. "You know, I think she might have inherited some of your talent. That's not a bad rendition of a goldfish for a two-year-old."

"She only cries when it's you," Vicki teased him affectionately. "Because she knows Daddy is a really soft touch." Laughing, she twisted just enough to touch her lips to his cheek. "It's a little early to be guessing what she'll show an aptitude for, isn't it?"

He shrugged, a warm smile on his face. As far as he was concerned, Emily was a genius and could be anything she wanted to be, but Vicki was probably right. "Maybe," he admitted. "You didn't by any chance suggest she draw Daddy a picture of George, did you?" he asked, with that smirk on his face that told her he'd seen right through her.

Vicki's smile was about as innocent as it could get, which wasn't very innocent, since it was her. "Maaaaybe," she mused in a sing-song voice. "Maybe she just wanted to draw a picture of George. I'm not admitting to nothin'."

"Pleading the Fifth is almost as good as saying you're guilty, you know," he told her, reaching over to playfully tickle her side. Now that the kids were in bed with Cosmo on guard duty, this was their time and there was precious little enough of it.

Squirming, she laughed again, batting at his hands. "Don't you dare, you know it makes me snort like a demented weasel," she warned him, grinning as she made a move to capture the tickling hand and hold it away. "I would never plead the Fifth. I would declare my right to the Freedom of Speech Act."

"Oh, so that's what a demented weasel sounds like!" Jon laughed as she snatched his hand so he couldn't tickle her anymore - or so she thought. He did have two hands, though he didn't want to wake the kids now that they were finally settled for the night. "And incriminate yourself doing so," he added regarding her last comment, Everything he knew about the law he had learned from his brother, and that was very little.

"Neither of which I've done, you realize," she pointed out, twisting about to straddle his lap comfortably, looping her arms about his neck as she leaned into him. She sighed contentedly, her forehead to his. "I love you, you know."

"Oh, I don't need any proof. I know you're guilty," he teased back as she climbed onto his lap and his arms went around her waist to keep her there. "Do you need to be punished or would you prefer to be rewarded tonight?" he teased, pulling her snugly against him.

"Mm, decisions, decisions." She chuckled affectionately, drawn so close there was barely a breath between them. One thing they had never wanted for was desire for each other, even when Vicki had been so paranoid about never being attractive again following Emily's birth. To be honest, it was a wonder she wasn't pregnant again already. She was eternally grateful to the apothecary who supplied her with her potion. "Maybe you should choose," she murmured, nuzzling affectionately to him.

"Mmm," he mused thoughtfully. "While the thought of punishing you is a tempting one, I think I'll save that for another night." He took her lips in a kiss that was equally tender and passionate, wanting something a little more tender tonight, rather than naughty. Even if all they did was hold each other close, it was enough for Jon in these moments.

Her smile caught in his kiss faded soon enough, fingertips teasing through his hair as they shared the tenderness they'd had since the first night they had been together. Then, it had been tenderness born of a need to comfort and console; now, it was the truest expression of what they felt for one another without words. No matter how fiery an argument, how stressful a day, how tired either one felt, it all came to nothing in the loving press of lip to lip.

This was Jon and Vicki. It was these quiet, tender moments they shared that brought them both together at the end of each day, whether it ended in fiery passion or tender embraces, when both could be confident and comforted in the knowledge that, like any good fairy tale, they had met their true love and were living their very own happily every after.

[size=9]((D'aww, such a happy family! Huge thanks to Jon's player!))[/size]
[size=9:4b2050a61b][color=green:4b2050a61b][i:4b2050a61b]The miracle is not to fly in the air, or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.[/i:4b2050a61b][/color:4b2050a61b][/size:4b2050a61b]