#valenswap

uh yeah :D i hope you like it :3

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With every second spent in traffic, Sweetheart wishes desperately they had just taken the day off. I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day—they should be with Milo, getting swept up in their love for one another and taking some time to just be. 

It feels like they’d barely seen each other at all this week, with Milo working three nights in a row and Sweetheart leaving too early in the morning to catch him awake. It felt silly to say they missed him when they literally lived together, but it was the truth. 

Plus, Jett would’ve had their ass on a silver platter if they called off today, no doubt already having a lecture stored for them about responsibility, despite the fact that they had been practically carrying the Department on their back since the day they joined.

When they turn into the driveway, they let out a long breath. Finally, they were home.

Milo greets them at the door, pulling them into his arms before they even have a chance to close it completely—but they don’t mind. They sink into his embrace, nosing at the space between his shoulder and neck, breathing him in. 

“You smell delicious,” they mumble, barely coherent with their mouth pressed against his skin. 

“You look exhausted,” he comments, placing his hands on their shoulders and holding them steady, getting a good look at them.

“Hey, that’s not nice. I gave you a compliment, and you tell me I look like shit,” Sweetheart pouts, fighting a smile when Milo boops their nose to soften the blow.

“I did not say that, Sweetheart. I said you look tired, which you do. Long day?” 

They nod, leaning back into him. “You have no idea.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He laughs when they shake their head, their hair tickling him when it brushes against his jaw. 

“I just want to forget about it. It’s over and done with, there’s no point in wasting energy rehashing everything, you know? Besides, there’s more important things to do. I missed you.” 

They kiss him softly, running a hand through his hair as they do, relishing in the contended sigh that leaves his lips as they do.

Aggro, who had been sitting quietly by the door, inserts himself between the two, rubbing against their legs—the vibrations of his purring making Milo laugh into the kiss. Sweetheart pulls away and crouches down to his level, kissing him all over his face and scratching behind his ears. 

“You’re kind of ruining the mood, sweet boy,” they chide, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. 

Warmth blooms in Milo’s chest as he watches his mate shower the cat in affection. It hadn’t taken very long at all for Aggro to decide he liked Sweetheart. It surprised Milo a little to see him follow them around the apartment whenever they were there, not wanting to be somewhere they weren’t. Even Asher had a hard time getting the cat to do anything but hide away under the bed. 

Sometimes Milo swore he liked them more than him, which was absurd. 

Imagine favoring someone who had broken into his apartment twice over his parent? It wasn’t held against him, though. I mean, who could blame him? His Sweetheart was everything. 

“Are we gonna spend the whole night in the hall petting Aggro, or can we make this a little more romantic?” Milo questions, a smile on his face when Sweetheart stands, offering him a peck on the lips in consolation. 

“You’re not jealous of your cat, are you, baby?” They tease.

“Me? Jealous? As if I have anything to be jealous of. I’m simply stating the facts: it’s Valentine’s Day, and all that love shouldn’t be wasted on the man that’s going to steal food off your plate later.” 

“That could be either one of you, honestly.” 

A light smack on the shoulder makes Sweetheart laugh as they take off their shoes and walk further into the house. 

Milo trails behind them, eyeing the stiffness in their shoulders as they stretch, trying to ease the tension out, to no avail. 

“Really, Sweetheart, you should relax.” 

They plop down onto the couch, leaving enough space for Milo to settle in beside them, pulling them closer as he does. They waste no time melting into him.

“This is relaxing.” 

He sighs, brushing a loose strand of hair out of their face. It was hopeless, trying to convince them to take a break—and it wasn’t for lack of wanting, believe me. It was just that they could never seem to shut their brain off long enough to take one, which was endlessly frustrating for the both of them.

“Little pauses here and there don't count as relaxing, and you know it.” 

It made his heart ache to see Sweetheart come home every day, looking more and more tense by the second. If it was up to him, they’d both take a week off once a month and give themselves ample time to unwind—but convincing them to take even a day off was an impossible task. 

With everything going on at the Department these days, the reopened investigation into CloseKnit took up all their time and energy, leaving none for themselves.

“You know what they say about glass houses,” Sweetheart sighs, leaning their head back against Milo’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He hums in response, running a hand absentmindedly through their hair. It’s not lost on him how quick they are to deflect. If there was one thing they hated more than anything, it was being lectured about needing to take a break. They knew it, Milo knew it, but talking about it wasn’t something they were interested in.

If it were up to Sweetheart, this was all they’d need. A few quiet moments cuddled up on the couch was worth more to them than any actual break. 

“If we keep sitting here, I’m gonna fall asleep.” They mumble, breaking the comfortable silence that lingered around them.

Milo lets out a little laugh, turning to kiss their temple. “Would that be so terrible?”

“No, definitely not—but I’m hungry, and I want to change out of my work clothes.” 

When Milo moves them over on the couch to stand up, they whine at the immediate loss, making him laugh again. 

“What? You just said you wanted to change and eat.”

“I didn’t mean right this second.” 

They continue to pout as Milo takes their hands and pulls them onto their feet.

“Well, too bad, Sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you feelin’ good.” 

When they raise their eyebrows at the statement, Milo pulls them in for a kiss before rolling his eyes. “Not like that, you goof.”

“What exactly are you suggesting then, Greer?”

“Nothing, perv. Is it a crime to offer my mate a completely innocent chance to get dressed down?”

The way they glance at him in response hints at similar offers given in the past that were anything but innocent. 

“I mean it,” he whispers against their lips, kissing them once more. “I just want you feeling a little more relaxed.”

Without protest, Sweetheart follows him down the hall to their bedroom, pausing in the door frame as Milo starts to dig through their closet, eventually settling on one of their favorite shirts—his shirt, might he add, that they had all but stolen from him not even a month into dating—and a pair of sweatpants.

“Come here, baby,” Milo coaxes.

They oblige, shuffling toward him. His hands rest on their shoulders, squeezing lightly to loosen them up a little.

“Hey there,” they whisper, eyes focused on the coy smile tugging at Milo’s lips. 

“Hey there,” he echoes as his hands slide down their sides until his fingers find the hem of their shirt and curl into it, lifting it ever so slightly.

With newly exposed skin to explore, he lets his hands linger, thumbs rubbing small circles into their hips.

“You’re getting a little handsy there, Greer.” 

His smile widens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I’m doing is helping my mate undress, completely innocent, as promised.”

“Mm, sure.” Sweetheart hums in response, unconvinced.

He hooks two fingers under their chin, tilting their head to meet his eyes. “Hey, have I ever lied to you?” 

“No,” they sigh, biting back a smile of their own. “No, you haven’t.” 

“Exactly.” He emphasizes the word with a kiss, “So let's get you into something comfy.”

“I just didn’t realize this was a group project, is all,” they note, but let him continue his achingly slow efforts to undress them himself, savoring the way his hands roam over their body, already knowing every inch of them. 

When their work clothes are finally replaced with the outfit Milo chose, he takes a step back–admiring his handy work.

“Proud of yourself?” Sweetheart asks, and he nods.

“Much better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” they laugh, pressing a kiss to his nose before taking his hand in theirs and leading him back down the hall, toward the kitchen. 

“Onto the next task: food. What’s on the menu?” Sweetheart asks, opening the fridge to study its contents. Milo settles in behind them, arms wrapped around their waist, his chin resting on their shoulder. 

“Pasta? We could make it ourselves.” His breath tickles against their ear. “It tastes better that way.” 

“Pasta it is.” 

➽──────────────❥

The kitchen smells like garlic and onions. Aggro has taken on the role of supervisor, sitting on the counter and watching dutifully over the kitchen as Milo and Sweetheart take on the task of making dinner.

“Can you hand me the butter, please?” Sweetheart asks, standing over a pan on the stove. It had only taken a few minutes to make the pasta dough–the only thing left to do was wait for it to rise.

Milo hands them a stick of it, catching their wrist before they can pull away, and presses a kiss to their knuckles before letting them go. 

“You’re a dork,” Sweetheart laughs, more so at the dumb grin on Milo’s face as he leans into the full romantic aspect of the night than the gesture itself. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this day not all about being cheesy and romantic? Excuse me for wanting to schmooze my mate.” He mumbles, mock exasperation in his tone.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry, how dare I chastise you for being a softie.” They lean in to give him a proper kiss, laughing more when Milo leans in the opposite direction, making a show of avoiding them. 

“No, no. You had your chance, Sweetheart. Romance privileges revoked.”

Warily eyeing the exchange, Aggro finds himself to be the next victim of Sweetheart’s antics as he’s promptly scooped off the counter and smothered in kisses, much to his chagrin. 

“It’s alright if you won’t kiss me,” they sigh dramatically, “I have Aggro to give me all the love I ne-” 

Milo is quick to pluck the cat out of Sweetheart’s hold, setting him down on the floor before finally kissing them properly. 

“You are such a brat.” 

“You love me,” they counter, arms wrapped around Milo’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. It’s deep, heady—he tastes like the wine they’d been sipping since their cooking endeavor had begun. 

“I do,” he mumbles against their mouth. “More than anything, baby.” 

By the time dinner is cooked, and the table is set, the house is bathed in golden light provided by the setting sun. It heightens the mood, Sweetheart thinks, and Milo lights candles to further add to the atmosphere.

“Now this is romance.” They exclaim, sitting down. 

Milo sits beside them, both of them relieved to be off their feet for the evening.

“Worth all the effort?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Absolutely.” 

For a while, they eat in silence, enjoying the meal they worked so hard on and soaking up each other’s company. If this was all their night entailed, it would be more than enough.

There wasn’t enough time in the world spent with Milo, Sweetheart thinks. From their first meeting, the connection they shared was clear—even if it was a little complicated at first. 

“Do you ever think about the past?” Sweetheart asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

Milo shoots them a look, curious. “How do you mean?”

“Like when we first met. I think about it a lot, and then I think about where we are now and how funny it seems to have started with breaking and entering and ended up… here—in a house we own together. I never would’ve believed you if you told me eight years ago that this was our life. Surrounded by people we love, thrilled with the life we’ve created… it’s just crazy to think about that kind of stuff.”

He reaches under the table, hand finding their thigh and squeezing lightly. “Well, when you put it like that, yeah, it sounds crazy.” 

There’s a smile on his face as he says it that makes Sweetheart’s heart ache at the sight. He was beautiful. 

“You made me so nervous at first,” they admit, feeling heat rise to their cheeks. They avoid eye contact, choosing to push food around their plate instead. 

They trusted him with every part of themselves, but it was still hard to say it out loud.

“I love you,” Milo says, threading his fingers between theirs. 

He knows all of it, even before they’ve said it. He’s always been good at taking the pressure off when Sweetheart starts to get overwhelmed with emotion. He can see it before it happens, reads them like a book and offers them comfort and a sense of understanding without them having to ask.

He made it so easy to love him. 

“There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be than right here, with you, Sweetheart. You’re my forever—I mean that.”

When they look up from their plate, lock eyes with Milo, every worry they had about their day or their feelings melts away.

“I love you, Mi. Happy Valentine’s Day.” 

Darlin’ never used to consider themself a romantic. Sometimes they’d find themself watching couples in restaurants giggling and kissing and caressing constantly and they couldn’t get past how fake it seemed. How forced those grand gestures and baby voices came across.

They’d never felt the need to do that with any of their past partners, never mind receive behaviour like it back.

That was before they met Sam.

With him, everything was different. Every little bad habit had slowly blossomed into something good. Every doubt proved wrong. All of the most private, intimate parts of themself had slowly been brought to the light and they didn’t feel the need to try and stuff them back into the darkness. Not with Sam.

And Darlin’ knew that what they had together, who they had become, was real, soppy couple behaviour included.

On those late nights when Sam was working and Darlin’ couldn’t sleep, they’d often found themself thinking about all he’d done for them and all they wished they could do for him, when a stupidly romantic idea struck and what better time to do it than the day of love.

Placing the last few stems of Babies Breath in the bouquet of their mate’s favourite flowers, Darlin’ checked the time, 2:38 am; Sam would be home soon.

Darlin’ placed the vase in the centre of their kitchen next to some freshly baked lemon treats, admiring their handy work.

Bouquets hadn’t exactly suited the vibe of their dingy apartment but here at Sam’s, at their shared home, with all the wooden beams, soft blankets and vintage furniture. They fit right in.

Straightening at the sound of keys shaking, Darlin’ rushed to the hallway, stopping for a moment to fix their hair in the mirror and turning towards the door, they pointlessly tried to slow their nervous heart rate, they’d never done anything like this before. Never really wanted to.

Sam would know something was up either way, he knew his Darlin’ too well, but that wouldn’t stop them from trying to surprise him.

Apparently the most recent change he’d brought was that, now, Darlin’ enjoyed a grand gesture, and they really hoped he’d like it.

With their hands stiffly at their sides, Darlin smiled as their love walked through the door, bouquet of flowers in hand and small tired smile on his face, mirroring their own.

“Hi, Darlin’” He breathed deep, relief at finally being home clear in his voice. “Happy Valentine’s” He held out his arm with the flowers and Darlin’ leaned straight in for a hug, wrapping their arms around his neck as he relaxed into them.

“Long day?” they whispered

“Long day, he agreed.”But not bad.” He loosened his hold and Darlin stepped back. “Better now.” Sam mused, taking them in.

He held his arm out again and Darlin accepted the flowers this time, thanking Sam before reaching their spare hand out to take his. Walking them together towards the kitchen, Sam following willingly.

“Do you like ‘em?” Sam laughed as Darlin intensely inspected the bunch.

“I do.” They looked back at him, “What are the purple ones?”

“Iris.”

“I think I like those best.” Darlin stated, matter of fact.

“Well, I’m glad. You refusing to pick a favourite flower makes this time of year awful difficult.”

Darlin’ stopped in the doorway, turning to face Sam with a stern look on their face. “I don’t want to pick, that would take away all of the joy of the surprise.”

“The joy of knowing your mate is fumbling around a florist trying to figure out what looks best, you mean.”

Darlin’ smirked, “Well, I do like to keep you on your toes.”

Sam huffed a ‘you can say that again’ kind of noise as Darlin ushered him into the room. They place their own floral gift next to his own and watched nervously as he took in their little display. It wasn’t much but that’s what Sam liked.

“You made these?” Sam picked up one of the cakes, as the kettle Darlin’ had set to boil chimed.

“I told you I'm not bad in the kitchen, I just don't usually have the patience for all the waiting and the checking and the cleaning.” They listed off, Sam laughed, biting into one of the cakes, all too familiar with their Pot Noodle and take-out habits.

Darlin’ returned to the table, fresh cup of coffee in hand. “Nice?”

“Mmm,” Sam attempted a response, his mouth too full to answer. Taking the cup from them with a kiss on the cheek. “Really nice”

Darlin’ lifted their own mug to their mouth, decaf, as Sam gestured to the flowers.

“Did ya put this together yourself?”

“Is it that obvious?” Darlin’ chuckled.

“No, it’s, it’s all really wonderful Darlin' you just have prick marks all over your hands.”

He made that face, that stupid face that Darlin’ knew all too well, that little uncertain question, ‘can I heal it?’.

Darlin placed their hands in his as Sam so lightly soothed them with just his fingertips. They loved him so much.

“Thank you, Darlin’, really, you didn't have to do all this. I half expected you to be sleepin’.”

“I wanted to.” Darlin’ stood. “Do this for you, I mean. But sleep does sound good too.”

Thankfully it had only taken Sam a little convincing that it was fine for him to fall asleep first. Sam had fallen asleep fairly fast; he usually did after a shift. Darlin’ ran their fingers through his hair as he laid comfortable against their torso.

Willing his weight to lull them to sleep too, Darlin’ squeezed their eyes shut, if there was one night they didn’t need trouble sleeping, it was this one.

They hadn’t been surprised when he didn’t question how nervous they seemed, he wouldn’t want to make a deal about it. Probably considered it might embarrass Darlin’ and Sam never discouraged Darlin’ when they were trying something new.

They could only hope that would remain the same tonight.

Darlin’ didn’t allow their mind to wander further than that. Focussing on Sam’s steady breaths as the darkness covered them like a blanket. Darlin’ joined Sam in sweet slumber.

“Darlin’?” They awoke, Sam’s morning voice nowhere near as rough as it usually is.

That was because it wasn’t morning, not really.

Darlin’ could hear the birds chirping outside, feel the faint heat from the sun through the blind in their bedroom.

But their hair was not tussled nearly as much as it would usually be and Darlin’ did not feel rested.

“Hi Collins.” Darlin’ rasped, turning towards Sam who’d somehow moved over to his side of the bed in the few minutes the couple had been unconscious.

“Morning already?” He questioned, brushing his hair out of his face with his fingers.

“Mmm, kind of, technically I requested it to be afternoon.” Darlin’s face scrunched up. They really weren't sure how to go about this. If Sam didn’t like it they’d understand but figured it was worth a shot.

They watched as his face scrunched up in confusion. “You requested it huh?” Sam pulled them towards him. “Well, I wouldn’t mind a lie in, if you wanna doze back off again.”

Darlin’ let out a shaky laugh, of course he wouldn’t question them behaving oddly, it was practically their favourite pastime.

“You alright?” Sam had waited for an answer before speaking. “I can feel your heart beating against me, it's going a mile a minute.”

Sam had such an ease to him that for a second, Darlin’ almost considered nodding their head and staying curled up in bed with him.

“I’m okay.” They placed a gentle kiss against his soft lips. “Just- will you come downstairs with me?”

“Sure.”

Taking on the exhausting task of climbing out of bed and stretching the couple made their way towards the back door, the window on it covered and Sam's confusion growing steadily by the minute.

“What are you up to?” He teased, that Southern drawl Darlin’ fell in love with elongating his words.

Darlin’ breathed for a moment.

“Seriously Darlin’, is something going on.”

“No,” they responded, instinctively. “I mean yeah there is but nothing bad, I hope.” Voice shaking, they continued, Sam waiting, listening, patient as ever. “It’s not actually morning; it’s not afternoon either.”

Sam nodded and Darlin’ couldn’t tell if he was accepting that his mate had finally lost it or if he was genuinely taking in what they were saying. Maybe both.

“We’re actually still up in our bedroom, asleep.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply before closing it again, speechless. That was a first.

“This is a dream.”

“Ah Darlin’, I don’t” He smiled, nervous.

“You’re not dreaming, I mean, this is my dream but you’re in it.” Darlin brought their ramble to a stop as Sam stood as still as they’d ever seen him.

“I’m in your dream...” Sam prompted.

Darlin’ grinned, this was stupid, they’d taken on shifters and vampires far more powerful than them with more ease and less tension.

“Milo’s mate works with a Dreamwalker at the department and I commissioned? I don’t um-”

Sam laughed bright but quiet. “You asked them to make us a dream, in our own house?” There was no judgement present in his voice just a soft curiosity.

Darlin’ grinned, self-conscious but wolf-like all the same. “Well, we don’t have to stay here but I figured it would be an easy starting point.

Sam grunted happily, “I have to say, I was not expecting this. Where are we visitin’ Darlin?” He stepped closer, a comforting gesture.

Darlin’ signalled towards the door. “Outside.”

“In the garden? Well, I can’t.” Darlin’ caught the exact moment Sam realised and they caught the exact moment that faded away.

“I can’t.” He repeated, unsure. Unwilling to dare hope until it was confirmed.

“You can.” Darlin’ whispered and Sam inhaled deep. “If you want too, only if you want to.” They rubbed his arm gently, reassuring. Darlin’ knew how badly Sam had wanted this, but they also knew that this wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t the same and having to wake up from a dream he’d yearned for just to have to face the truth, that this wasn’t reality. It might not be worth the torment.

“You really mean? I- I don’t know what...” The pace of his breathing increased rapidly. “I can.”

“Yeah. You can.” Darlin’ stepped back, “The Dreamwalker said that he couldn’t guarantee it would be exactly the same and if you don’t want to Sam, if it’s too difficult or-”

Sam stepped towards the door, just staring for a moment at them, then at the window. He lifted the blind with caution allowing the sunlight to seep through the glass and onto his arm, his skin. Not a single red mark, no burning.

Gasping but not a flinch in sight as Sam reached for the handle. “I want too.”

Darlin’ stood waiting in the entrance once he’d opened the door. Sam stood unmoving on the porch, still covered by the roof and taking it all in. He was about to feel sunlight for the first time in over a decade.

He reached his hand out “Come with me?”

Darlin’ met him “Always.”

They creeped into the day together, barefoot and slow paced. Sam bared his face to the sky, his arms spread out, the warmth, the scent of the morning, the sounds of the animals in woods around their lawn. It was all so much.

And it was all for him.

A chuckle burst from Sam as Darlin’ admired the scene in front of them, certain their ears had never before had the pleasure of hearing a laugh so pure, so true. It was beautiful.

“This is-” Sam couldn’t stop the cheery laughter erupting from him. “You are, so fuckin’ amazing.”

He closed the tiny gap between him and his mate, speeding to pick them up, Darlin clung on tight. Ignoring the tears in his eyes as his kissed them all over.

“I love you.” Darlin’ managed through the pecks and giggles.

“I love you too, so much.” Darlin wrapped their legs firmly around his waist, having gotten used to the fact that Sam could in fact, pick them up. “You wanna go for a run?”

Darlin’ nodded tightly and with that Sam took off, speeding through the forest and around the trees, Darlin’ gasping at every sharp turn and acceleration.

Certain that Sam had never gone this fast before. It was amazing.

After a long while they stopped, both panting in the heat. “That was, fast.” Darlin’ gasped between breaths, their adrenaline spiked.

“I thought you liked it fast.” He smirked, placing darlin on the ground, his hands lingering on their hips until they got their balance and then for a little while longer after that. “Wanna head back?”

Darlin squinted their eyes, a plan forming. “Mmm,hmm.” They stepped back a few paces. “Race ya.”

Shifting suddenly, Darlin’ rushed into the woods, ears pricked back awaiting the sounds of Sams footsteps behind them. He’d give them a head-start, he always did.

Darlin dodged around the trees as fast as they could spot them, too focused on being fast to realise they were heading in the wrong direction. Sam ran around them a few times, slowing them or throwing them off course.

With the wind in their fur, they continued forward. Even when they knew they weren’t being chased Darlin’ got an indescribable rush from playing with around with Sam like this, and they relished every second of it.

Spotting Sam stood waiting a couple hundred yards in front Darlin’ sped up, pouncing before giving themself the time to register he was holding his hands out.

They rolled, Darlin’ shifted back mid-air as the couple made their way down the hidden hill. Sputtering laughter as they landed in a field of grass and sunflowers. Sam on top cradling them.

He scanned over them checking for injuries quickly before pinning them down lightly. “Gotcha”

Darlin’ snorted “That doesn’t count, I got you first!”

“Got me? You launched us off a cliff” Sam retorted, picking twigs out of their hair.

“It’s an ancient tactic, I knew what I was doing” Darlin laid there, sarcastic and perfect and free and so themself.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Sam laid down next to them, the heated grass enveloping him as he admired his mate. “You look so Damn beautiful in the sun.” He observed and Darlin; didn’t try to hide like usual.

Lying together in the grass, present in the moment. Sam clicked his teeth together after a long spell of silence.

“Why where you so nervous?”

Darlin’ relaxed into his side, thinking. “I wasn’t sure if you’d find it too hard to go back to, living in darkness again. I didn’t want to pressure you, I guess.

Sam hummed, “I appreciate that, was just wondering.” He hugged them closer. “But, Darlin’?”

“Hmm?”

“I ain’t living in darkness. I’ve got my own light, and they’re perfect.”

He leant in for a kiss, deep and slow. Stopping any of the shyness that might have over taken his mate because of his earnest.

“I’m glad you like it.” Darlin’ muttered,

“Mmm, it’s the second-best gift I've ever gotten.”

“And what could possibly be the first?” Darlin’ teased.

“Oh you know, just an unexpected, wild wolf crashing into my life a couple years ago”.

At that Darlin’ let out another short burst of laughter, rolling up onto his lap, straddling him with legs at either side of his hips. “Well, I hope you're not burnt out with the surprises ‘cause I had one more thing planned, that I thought you might like.” They leant down to press kisses at his neck as he tilted his head back into the grass, holding their hips tight.

Rating: T; WC: ~2.5K; No Warnings

Characters: Lovely, Vincent, Porter

Pairings: Vincent/Lovely

Summary: When Lovely struggles to manage their new vampire fangs, Vincent frets that he’s failing them as a maker. A trip to the dentist’s office helps ease Lovely’s pain and Vincent’s worry as the pair figure out how to move forward as vampires bound together forever.