The day couldn't have been more perfect.

You'd had the honour to watch your childhood friend, Maddie, marry the love of her life - Lieutenant Simon Riley.

The wedding had taken place under a vaulted canopy of wisteria and fairy lights, tucked in the lush grounds of a cosy countryside estate which looked as if it could have been straight out of a storybook. Stone fountains gurgled quietly nearby as vows were exchanged, bees and butterflies weaving their way through the guests in attendance as they made their way to the field of wildflowers just over the hedge.

Now, the sun having set over the hills, the reception was in full swing; streams of lanterns strung up from tree-to-tree illuminating the dance floor as music pulsed from the DJ's booth.

You'd come alone, unable to find a date. But, that was alright. Better to be with those who felt like family then spend the evening fretting over some date you barely knew just for the sake of it. After all, your friendship with the bride was a cherished one; university nights spent cramming for exams, bad first dates and coming to the others rescue, birthday parties which had blurred into late breakfasts the following morning. Maddie had been a constant in your whirlwind life, and to see her so happy - practically glowing with joy, was enough to warm your heart for the night.

You'd found comfort, flitting between conversations with your mutual friends, Maddie's family and Simon's squad mates. Having danced twice already, done some shots with Ghost and Gaz, and laughed a little too hard at the Captain's surprisingly dry wit. The only person you'd not had the pleasure of meeting yet was the infamous loudmouth of their group, Sargent John MacTavish, otherwise known as Soap. He'd, unfortunately, been called away for business straight after the ceremony. But, had promised to return some time this evening.

The bouquet toss, however, caught you off-guard.

You'd hesitated at first, lingering at the edge of the dancefloor as you watched men and women alike get ready to try and catch the flowers. But, when Kyle all but dragged you into the frenzy, you had little chance to avoid taking part.

"Come on now, join in on the fun!"

The tradition was cheesy, sure. But, the enthusiasm from everyone around you was contagious.

The bouquet spiralled through the air, leaving Maddie's hands as she tossed it behind her without looking. Squeals of excitement and cheers erupted around you as people scrambled to grab the bouquet. In the mess of it all, you leaped, your fingers brushing petal. Somehow, you'd managed to grab the bouquet.

Yet, your triumph was short-lived as your foot landed poorly on the sticky dancefloor. Your ankle rolled sharply and you fell backwards.

Until, something unexpected happened.

Arms, strong and firm, slide under your back just in time; halting you from your fall in an almost graceful dip. Warmth pressed through crisp fabric, cologne and whiskey drifting close.

"Careful now, pet" your saviour gently scolded, making you look up to find none other then the Scottish Sargent himself.

He looked just like he did in the framed photo's of Simon's squad at Maddie's house. Broad shoulders, bright blue eyes and that unmistakable mohawk. He certainly had a boyish charm to him.

"Yeh alright? Did nae hurt your ankle, did yeh? Ah saw how it rolled, oughta be more careful. S'not always yeh have ah knight in shining armour like mehself teh save yeh" Johnny asked, concern evident in his tone, as the world fell away around the pair of you.

If ever there was a time you believed in love at first sight, now might have been that time. After all, you'd caught the bouquet. That had to be a sign for something... right?