Thunder roils beyond the clattering roof, but it's the shadows of lightning playing havoc through the windows that wake Nami. Teetering on the edge awareness, it takes her an odd second to remember that she is not in the Inn anymore and to identify the weight beside her as her husband.

Her husband. It's been so many months and it's still hard to reconcile.

It hasn't been so bad. Wifehood isn't something she's used to, but neither is not having to wonder how she'll scrape by when she only has a couple coins in her pocket.

The first few months were difficult for her. She hadn't known the first thing about living a life for two and, most of the time, she still doesn't. It's different, sharing a space with someone. It's only ever been Nami–Nami, in her small room at the Inn, laying on the sheets of a too-big bed in the summer heat; Nami, sitting on the steps of Romana's villa, gazing up at stained glass windows and polished brick with empty pockets and a knot in her throat; Nami, exchanging greetings with a passing villager but always feeling as if they're speaking right through her.

Now, there's Jack, who let Nami pick out the comforter for their bed, who asks her to walk with him to the spring in the evening and listens to what she has to say, who holds her hand and calls her cute when she gets embarrassed. Being with Jack is an adjustment, but it's for Jack that she tries. She tidies the house while he's away, blaming it on boredom when he returns home and remarks on it. She asks Ruby, with only a little reluctance, to teach her to cook. She learns (from Flora, of all people) the little things that make the biggest difference, like baking soda and vinegar.

It isn't as if he expects this of her. He's never asked her to be–or become–anything. She does it all because it wouldn't be fair not to. He makes such an effort every single day. For the farm, for his father... and for her.

To her left, weight shifts. She watches as Jack, slowly rousing into awareness and now upright, wipes the dregs of sleep from his eyes with the heel of a palm. He glances at the alarm clock sitting dutifully on the nightstand, gleaming a bright 3:37 A.M. in the fleeting light the storm brings. The murky outline of his shoulders heaves in what she imagines is a sigh.

Summers are predictably unpredictable in the Valley. There'd been worried talk for days, spurned by dark clouds that steeped and ached with thunder above the village. Even Gustafa and Cody had claimed half a mind to take shelter within the Inn for a few days, knowing their homes were far too delicate to brave a hurricane. Though all the townsfolk had been doing their part making preparations, Jack had been the busiest, boarding up the windows in the barn and coop. She'd helped hold the boards steady, asking if it would be enough.

"Should be," he'd replied, tucking his hammer through a belt loop before adjusting his gloves. Turning to survey the field behind them, his brow had pinched as he looped an arm around her waist. "Have to put up a new fence before winter, though. Even if it survives this storm, there's no way it'll make it through another. It's already rotting through there, see?"

She remembers how she'd nodded absently, focused more on the quiet worry in his face.

Nami unfurls the hand resting beneath her cheek and allows it to travel the space between them, seeking his fingers to tangle them in her own. It takes a few seconds for him to react, but he turns to her with a soft expression in his bleary-eyed gaze. Perhaps he hadn't expected her to be awake, too.

"Hey," he says, his voice coarse with sleep.

"Hi."

A moment passes to the motion of his thumb rubbing lazy circles against hers. Another crack of lightning prompts Jack to rise, slipping his hand from hers as he makes his way to the door. Through the darkness, he retrieves and shrugs on his worn jacket, the one with the hole in the right elbow. Hazily, she wonders if he knows that she wears it, too, when he isn't around.

Returning to the bedside after pulling on his boots, he catches her by pleased surprise when he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to her forehead and murmurs into her skin, "Back in a minute."

Tired but still escaped by sleep, Nami watches the storm and waits.

By the time he returns, eighteen minutes and ninety-two sheep have passed her by. Cold wind creaks through the door and there is a thunk-thunk as his shoes knock against the doorway. His jacket falls to the floor (she prays it won't leave a wet stain) and the bed sags at his entrance. He drops onto his back gently, catching and pulling her into his chest with a strong, damp arm. She can't find it in herself to protest.

"They're okay?"

Jack hums. "All good."

"Good," she whispers, wrapping an arm across his stomach. She feels him drop another kiss on the crown of her head, running his cold knuckles along her arm, before he stills once more. His breathing slowly deepens beneath her, his heartbeat quietly thrumming against her ear.

Closing her eyes as thunder rattles the window pane, Nami sighs and presses closer.

a/n: found this while I was rummaging through my fic folder and decided to fix it up a little! it's old, but I still like it :} Nami isn't my favorite AWL bachelorette, but I do have a little bit of a soft spot for her. but now I'm feeling nostalgic and want to replay AWL...