Tell me something, who could ask for more than to be living in a moment I would die for?

[nothingsodivine]

[[Forward-dated to Sunday afternoon. Party post. Open to everyone, even if you don't know the happy couple- this is as much a celebration of two years of survival as it is a wedding.]]

In a large, nondenominational church in Chicago, people are gathered for a celebration- the wedding of Desmond Descant and Martha Jones. Everything is decked out to

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Wedding

[nothingsodivine]

[nothingsodivine]

People take their places as the wedding begins. Des stands with his hands clasped behind his back as the wedding march begins, his eyes going a bit wide as his heart speeds up. He can hear his pulse in his ears and the steady cadence nearly drowns out the music. This is happening. This is really happening.

He's getting married. He's been here two years and made a new life for himself that, as much as he misses his old life, has become his life. All the angst of feeling useless, because he's not as strong or as useful as he once was just flies out in the window. Today he belongs to her.

He stands up a little straighter and waits as the doors at the back of the chapel open and the wedding procession begins.

[smithnjones]

The procession of bridesmaids and groomsmen seems to happen in the span of a second. It's as though she blinked and founder herself next in line to walk out on the aisle. Martha takes in a deep breath as her heart pounds hard in her chest. Nervousness and excitement wrap more tightly around the intense happiness that has filled her all day.

As soon as she steps out into the aisle in her wedding dress and looks past all the pews to see Des standing in front, the nerves ease. Everyone else in the church disappears. There's only him, and she knows for the first time today that this is real and nothing could be more right. She belongs here.

Martha smiles at him as soon as the realization of the reality passes. It's bright and filled with the deep joy in her heart. She's glowing, and her eyes shine with tears that will not fall. Martha starts to walk down the aisle. She doesn't look at anyone else. Her gaze remains on his face even as she steps up to stand beside him.

She mouths Hi to him as if they are the only two people in the

[nothingsodivine]

Des barely pays attention to the beginning of the proceedings. The priest might as well be that teacher on the Peanuts cartoons. All he's hearing is blah, blah, blah. He just stands there, taking Martha's hands in his, staring into her eyes, and grinning like an idiot

[smithnjones]

One tear slips down her face as she listens to him speak. She'd be rather proud of herself for not crying any more than that, but she's not even aware that there's a tear rolling down her cheek. Her focus is solely on him. There's no awareness of the rest of this church, of herself even. Countless memories rush through her head, curling around her heart, making it feel as though it's swelling impossibly with happiness. There can't be room for so much love in her chest, and there isn't. It spreads through the whole of her, grounding her and making her feel faint simultaneously.

Martha squeezes his hand back, biting down on her lower lip as she struggles for composure. Her heart feels as though it's trembling, but she's stood up against greater problems than making it through wedding vows without turning into a mess. Hasn't she? She is quite determined that he should hear every word, which requires her being both calm and collected. At every pause that she takes in speaking her vows, she smiles brightly, tears shining in her eyes, as

[nothingsodivine]

Des's eyes are starting to well up, but the tears don't dare fall. He's smiling back at her just as hard, showing his teeth and gritting them so hard that it's like they're the only things keeping him from breaking down right here and now.

He vaguely hears the priest ask if there's anyone here who thinks these two should not be wed, and he finally breaks his concentration on Martha to laugh.

"And keep in mind before you speak," he says, still looking at Martha, "that the bride, the groom, and most of the wedding party is armed."

That breaks the ice a bit. The crowd laughs and Des drops his head a little, half-apologetic for making a joke in the middle of such a serious occasion and breaking the moment.

And then the words he's been waiting for, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Des takes Martha's face in his hands and kisses her, deeply, passionately. It's every kiss since their very first- him climbing out of that hospital bed after being killed and limping over to her.

Just so you know...It goes on

[smithnjones]

Martha closes her eyes when he takes her face in his hands. She loses herself in the feel of it, in him. These kisses have become so familiar to her, but they have the same effect on her.

When he first time he kissed her, she felt alive, loved, and strengthened by the intensity of it, by the knowledge that it brought to her heart.

She feels that again here and now, two years later, standing in front of all these people, who have faded into the background.

Her hand slips up against his face. Her body inclines itself toward his. She's kissing her husband. The knowledge filters in through the rest of her emotions and makes her feel a little faint.

This kiss could never last long enough.

It is a promise. My heart belongs to you.