One Night Special

By: MajorSam

Based on the Instagram story posted by Matt Lanter in late April, 2019. The song in this fic is the one from that story.

To blame: The People's of Twitter. Emily posted the video, then Danielle suggested a fic based on it, then both Katie and Jessica decided I was the right candidate for the job! I am honoured. So here it is. Gotta give the people what they want! Final thank you to PeachCheetah, as always, for beta.

Of all the things Lucy had expected to find upon returning home, this was not one. Not even close. Never in her wildest imaginings could she have foreseen what greeted her as she entered the living room.

Her husband.

With a moustache.

She stopped dead in her tracks as he stood from his seat on the couch to greet her. His eyes lit up at the expression on her face.

"Waddya think?" he asked.

"Wha…" it took the professor several moments to even find the words. "What the hell is on your face?"

He'd recently experimented in growing a beard. It had started accidentally, the crazy schedule of special operations combined with taking care of two tiny humans had resulted in his usual scruff going a bit wild. He'd decided to roll with it. He'd had beards on deployment before, after all. It was only Lucy who'd never seen him with one. At first she had been wary, afraid that a beard would bring back too many memories of their future selves and all that could have happened. For a few moments at the beginning, it had. But she'd gotten over it surprisingly fast. With two babies and a new house and the intensive research she was doing for her book… she didn't have time to be worried over a beard. When she saw her husband, she was just too happy to have help with the kids. Or, when they were able, to catch a few rare, precious moments to themselves. In those moments she just wanted him, beard or no beard.

But now, it seemed, he was ready to move on.

To a moustache?

"What," he frowned, raising a hand to his chest in exaggerated affront. "You don't like my new look?"


He pasted on a smarmy smile and sauntered towards her, hair all fluffy and messy and sexy as hell. "Come on, babydoll," he crooned.

She backed away, raising her hands in defense as she burst out laughing. "Wyatt, stop."

The soldier reached into his pocket and brought out his phone, quickly tapping a few times. A song started to play, "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih. Lucy didn't know how she knew that, but she didn't have time to try figure it out because Wyatt was now swaying to the beat and moving towards her, pure smolder in his eyes. She didn't know whether to laugh or be turned on.

"Whose birthday is it?" she asked instead.

"The moustache?"

She snorted. "More like pornstache."

"What?" he questioned again. "Robert Todd Lincoln can get away with it, but I can't?"

"Robert Todd Lincoln? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Oh please, Lucy, you know exactly what I mean."

"I really don't."

Wyatt continued to advance, carefully maneuvering her in a dance around the couch. "He had a crazy moustache and you started dating him like five minutes after you met!"

"I did not!"

"You so did! Not even a day in and you were buying fancy gowns for him!"

"It wasn't for him! I couldn't go to the theatre in what I was wearing!"

"Well even so," he suddenly lunged at her and caught her by the waist, gathering her into his arms. "You've never bought a dress for me like that."

"Oh, well," she rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I guess giving you two children doesn't quite stack up to a pretty dress, yeah."

He shrugged, "I don't make the rules."

And then he dove in for a kiss. Lucy squealed as the moustache tickled at her. Wyatt started laughing but kept going, shaking his head back and forth so the facial hair swept all over her face. She was laughing and yelling and batting him away, but there was no force behind her blows. The battle continued until he finally just swept her up into his arms. She squawked and clung to him.

"Come on, babydoll," he said again. "Just this once? Kids aren't home for another hour."

She pursed her lips and frowned up at him. A hand reached up and contemplatively stroked his fuzzy upper lip. She'd always hated moustaches, but admitted to herself that on her husband, it wasn't so bad. Though she'd never tell him that. Especially when he was looking down at her with that fire in his gaze. No need to inflate his ego further.

"It goes in the morning?" she asked.

"It goes in the morning," he nodded eagerly. "This is a one night special."

She gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment, his bright blue eyes tracking the movement.

"Fine," she finally caved. "But you better make this good."

He grinned, the classic Logan smirk. "Sure thing, ma'am."

The End.

Well? Was that what you all were wanting? :p