#keving mckidd

[theshepherdandthehunter]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

A/N: Here’s a short story (a drabble?) on last week’s finale, another one initially written on my phone, at night (I swear I'll post something of actual good quality soon). This picks up at the Omelia house right after the Jolex wedding. In this universe, there’s no pregnant Teddy. It’s just some good old, cliché, Omelia fluff for all those upset with the actual finale ending. Stay positive my dudes! I’m also planning a longer finale fic where there is a pregnant Teddy, but Owen’s not the father (cause Teddy would have to be like seven months pregnant now? Which she did NOT look like), but not sure when I’ll be able to finish that one. I never really watched any episodes with Teddy (apart from those from season 14), so I need to do some research to write her character. For now, enjoy this!

Side note, I wrote this while listening to Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong songs, especially Dream a Little Dream of Me (which is the song mentioned in the fic). Listening to that one will def enhance the feel I’m aiming for here! 

***

“I am beat,” Amelia groans as she throws herself down onto the couch, her heeled feet dangling off the side. “Who knew weddings could be so taxing. Was ours this crazy?”. As soon as the words left her mouth, however, she started laughing. “Don’t answer that, ours was probably worse”.

Owen chuckled. He’d been heating up some waffles left over from breakfast when his ex-wife returned from putting his foster son to bed. Leo had fallen asleep as soon as they’d put him in his car seat, and judging by how he hadn’t even woken up when they’d moved him from the car to the house, he must have been really exhausted. “How’s Betty?”

“She helped me put Leo in his crib and then went to bed herself. She’s had a long day. I think she’s more bothered by her parents not showing up this morning than she’s letting on”.

“I thought you said you hadn’t told her you invited them?” He grabbed the plate of now warm waffles and brought them over to where Amelia was sprawled across the entire length of the couch. She graciously lifted her feet, however, to allow him to slip underneath, before somewhat less graciously dropping them back across his lap.

“I didn’t. But she probably still hoped they’d come. It’s her thirty day sober ceremony, I know I used to hope my mom would show up”. She’d never went, of course, but Amelia couldn’t blame her. She’d never actually invited her, either.

“Yeah”. Owen watched as she grabbed a waffle from the plate he was still holding. “She’s doing great though. With her sobriety, and with Leo. She’s growing. We should take her to dinner or something, to celebrate. We’ve both got tomorrow night off”. Balancing the plate on the back of the couch, he reached down to undo the strap of her heels across her ankle.

“Yeah, I bet she’d like that”. She lifted her gaze to meet Owen’s, smiling at him. She felt oddly proud of them, together. How they were managing caring for both Leo and Betty. “He,” she moved to sit up straight, putting the half-eaten waffle on the coffee table, and slipping her now un-heeled feet to the floor. “We didn’t dance”.

“What?” Owen chuckled, tilting his head with a confused look in his eyes.

“At the wedding,” Amelia clarified, almost giddy now. “With all the chaos and wrong directions and medical emergencies, we never got to dance. You know you’re supposed to dance at weddings”.

“Oh, I know you’re supposed to dance at weddings”. Owen grunted, “if I remember correctly, we danced a lot at ours”.

Amelia sighed blissfully, her eyes closing at the memory. “Those were good times”, she whispers, smiling. “You’re a good dancer”.

Owen let out a snort, “you may be the first person to ever tell me that. We both … improvised. But,” he leaned forward and spiritedly waggled his eyebrows, “we definitely had fun”. He regarded the woman in front of him for a moment. She’d sat up at the thought of dancing, but was now leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Remembering times when they hadn’t yet gone through the debacle that had been their short-lived marriage. Their honeymoon bliss had not lasted long.

He stood up and walked over to where he kept his record collection (yes, record collection, just because Spotify has been invented –and CDs, etc., but who’s counting- didn’t mean he couldn’t still enjoy the nostalgic sound of needle scratching record), and drew out one of his favorite’s. Gently lowering the needle of the player, he stepped back and returned to the couch.    

As the tones of a trumpet began to play, and Ella Fitzgerald’s smooth voice floated into the living room, Owen grabbed Amelia’s hand and pulled her off the couch, walking backwards as he gently pulled her with him until she was close enough so he could slide his hand around her back. Their height difference emphasized now that she was no longer wearing her heels.  

Stars shining bright above you. He met her gaze as they started swaying together, slowly twirling around. Night breezes seem to whisper I love you. Her eyes twinkled with pleasant surprise, and shone a brighter blue than he’d seen in a while. “Please don’t step on my toes,” she giggled. “I’m not wearing shoes while you are”.

They kept dancing and turning and twirling until the voices of Ella and Louis sang out the last notes. Dream a little dream of me. Neither of them noticed when the next song started playing. Standing still, in the middle of the living room, still holding each other. Amelia couldn’t tell who started moving first, but whoever initiated, they slowly leaned towards each other until their lips were mere inches apart. She could feel his shallow breathing matching hers. They really shouldn’t be doing this. This though, however, was soon forgotten when Owen moved in and caught her lips with his.

What started out as a soft kiss, his lips grazing against hers, testing the waters, quickly turned more demanding. It wasn’t a kiss that conveyed every unspoken word and story between them, it was one that reflected the amount of time they’d gone without doing this. They kissed until Amelia realized she could never have enough, clinging to him as if he was the only solid object in her dizzy-turned world. 

But still they broke apart, keeping their foreheads together, their breathing deep and panting. “Owen,” her voice comes out in a soft whisper, and as Owen opened his eyes to look at her, he could see her softly biting her lower lip. “What are we doing?”

“I know what I was doing,” he declared in a breathy chuckle. “And I hope you know what we were doing as well”.

Amelia snorts. “No you dumb ass,” softly punching his shoulder. “I mean in general. What are we doing?”. She leaned away from his embrace, reluctantly, and took a step backwards. “Meredith said something to me today, about us playing house. And it just…” she sighed, not wanting to ruin the moment, but needing to know. “What are we doing?”

Owen, already missing her warmth, took a few seconds to collect his bearings. “We’ve been living together for over a month now, raising these two kids. For all intents and purposes, we are a married couple, Amelia. Only without the … you know, more carnal stuff married couples usually do”.

Amelia smirked, and she swore she could see a slight brush rising to Owen’s cheeks. “The fun stuff”.

He definitely agreed with her, but figured it would be the better choice not to actually voice that agreeance. Instead, he chose to confess his more serious thoughts. “I don’t know what the future holds, obviously, so I can’t tell you where we’re going”. He laughed quietly, “but I do know that, right in this moment, I’m falling for you. Again. And that …” he exhaled slowly, “scares me, but I don’t want it to. I want to be able to dance with you, whenever. And kiss you, and do all the carnal stuff,” he smirked. “Whenever. And I want to continue taking care of Betty and Leo with you, for as long as we can”. He took a step forwards, towards her, and pulled her to him again. “I want this, Amelia. I want you, and all that comes with you. I want to be married to you, again”.

“We’ve got to talk about … stuff”. Amelia worried, unconsciously leaning back into his touch. “We can’t make the same mistakes again”.

“I know. And we will, talk I mean. Tomorrow. I promise. For now, let’s just …” he grinned, tracing the small of her back with his hand. “Dance”.

And so, dance they did. Song after song. Until the record finished and the living room returned to silence once more. And even then, they remained swaying, together. The cold waffles forgotten. With one arm around her back and the other resting in hers, Owen couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Amelia was right, they needed to talk. Dancing wouldn’t magically solve all of their problems, and there were so many things that needed to be out in the open. But right now, he had the woman of his dreams in his arms, and he wasn’t planning on ever letting go again. They could work this out. They could be married again, and make it last this time, really make it last. And if that was all he would realize for the rest of his life, he would be happy. Amelia, and Leo and Betty, they were enough. More than enough. They were everything. They were his dream, she was. A dream he hoped he would never wake up from.

“Let’s go to bed”, he whispered. Let’s go to bed and dream some more.    

[mostly10]

holy shit

kevin mckidd is fucking amazing

all the feels for this week's episode of grey's anatomy