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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[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.

Someone has to nudge him when the priest calls for him to recite his vows. He takes a breath. "I had a huge thing written up. It was long and sappy and.. Not me, at all. So... I'm just gonna wing it." There's a nervous bit of laughter from the guests.

"Martha Jones, we've been through so much together. We've both died here... In a lot of ways, we've been reborn here. This city is as much my home now as my own universe and I will stand here in front of everyone here and tell you that I don't care if I ever go back, 'cause I can't. I can't leave this city, I can't leave the people I've met here, and, most of all, I can't leave you. One day, I'm gonna die here- the stupid, pathetic end result of a mortal life- and I'm gonna die happy, 'cause I've gotten all I could ever wanted here. All the pain, all the agony, everything I miss from home... I take it and I weigh against everything else and I still come up in favor of Chicago. Without coming here, I never would have met you. I love you, Martha Jones. I always will."

He's trying so hard not to cry or just kiss her right there. He settles for squeezing her hands tightly in his.

[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 she takes a breath. She simply can't stop smiling today.

"I can't imagine what my life would have been like had I never met you. You once told me when I had fallen that you would never abandon me, no matter what darkness might lie inside of me, that you'd stand beside me in the war that I had to fight on my own. I suppose in this city filled with pain and battles that's the ultimate gift that anyone can give to someone else, and I know without a doubt that I would do the same for you. It's been nearly two years since that conversation, and I would do the same for you still. I would stand by your side even if the rest of the world was falling down around us," Martha says, swallowing thickly. Her voice is laced heavily with many emotions, but love stands out among the rest.

She takes in a deep breath to steady herself. It's hard to tell if she's doing this from memory or making it up on the spot, but she certainly makes it look good. The words spill out of her mouth so seamlessly, straight from the heart. Only heavy moments of emotion seem to make her falter or pause. It's never the words. She is certain of every single word she says.

"This is what beats out the darkness of the city. It's love. It's love like this, like how I feel for you right now and how I've felt for you for nearly two years. I told you that night that you... can't get rid of me so easily, and I suppose that's especially true now," she says, laughing softly and glancing at the priest before settling her gaze back on him. "But we both know how easy it is to lose someone, especially in this city. I love you. No matter what happens... I will always love you, and I believe that that part of me will survive through plagues, darkness, battles, and apocalypses. No matter what. There's so much this world can take from us, has taken from us but it will never, ever change the way that I feel about you."

One more tear slips down her face. Her bottom lip trembles as she loses a bit of the composure that allowed her to make it through her vows. She's still smiling, just as brightly as before. All this smiling is starting to make her face ache a bit, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't mind at all.

[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 for longer than it should. Des doesn't feel like it lasted long enough.

[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.