A/N: There was a bit of a heatwave over here a couple of weeks ago, so I thought I'd write this. No plot in particular, just a bit of flirty low-key sexy fluff, because there can never be too much of that, right? This is set between 3.8 and the S3 CS (so, before the picnic at Duneagle). I've no idea if this is historically accurate - for all I know the summer of 1921 could have been one of the coldest on record, but if so then let's pretend the opposite is true.

I've kept the rating at T because I think the stuff here is more suggestive than anything. Feel free to let your imagination go where it wants to.

Summer or winter, I don't own Downton Abbey (only in the form of DVDs).

Feeling the Heat

There was not an inch of air to be had in the room, the sultry atmosphere all-consuming. Sweat-covered acres of skin pressed closer than comfort allowed, the sheen of perspiration shimmering upon spines as limbs lay aching and sticky. Breathing grew heavier by the second, laboured and desperate for release.

"Oh, this is no good!"

With a swiftness that was hard to acknowledge given the hour Anna clambered from the bed, taking the entire duvet with her bunched-up in her hands. John would have been amused at the sight of his wife's dainty figure grappling with the bulk that very nearly swamped her entirely but instead he was amazed, dazed and blessedly relieved for the manufactured breeze that hit his legs, even if it was all too brief.

As freeing as it was not to be covered, held trapped within this night that was more stifling than the last, he lamented the loss of her by his side.

"Anna, love," he pleaded hoarsely as she rifled through the dresser, "leave that for now."

She paid little heed to his words; little could stop her when she was on a mission.

Her silhouette curved against the shadows, and her arms stretched above her head, the loose braid that ran a column down her back disappearing for a flash of a moment as she took off her nightgown in a fluid motion. John's mouth went dry as he beheld her, naked and elegant, the shadow of night her only shroud. It was far from unusual by now, the sight of her bare form gracing him part of his daily routine rather than the most cherished memory that it had remained for too long. It was in the morning that he was able to appreciate the most, watching her while she pulled herself out of her slumber, slow and considerate as she took time to burst fully to life once more. He would be almost completely dressed by then, a fact that proved highly inconvenient. During the nights, he was far too occupied in the task of bestowing her with the most pleasure that he could to properly focus. The heat that seared upon his lips as he kissed each inch of her brought vividly to mind the way her fairness would blush deep pink without even needing to gaze upon it.

He caught a glimpse of her breast as she turned, and he took in a breath, roused within an instant. The fire was dampened, not to a great effect in either sense, as she covered herself again with the new garment. The smile upon her face became clearer even in this light; as beautiful as its replication in his mind proved, it did no justice to the real thing.

"You'll have to help me find the lighter sheets in the morning," she uttered quite plainly as she lay back down.

He simply couldn't help the tone he took on, resting a gentle hand at her thigh, the cool cotton of her summer gown heavenly against his palm.

"I can think of a more favourable way in which we'd be able to sleep," he rasped, leaning into her neck.

That there was no top-sheet upon the bed any longer was a little more bearable. His pyjama top was only half-buttoned, easy enough to get rid of. It was one of Anna's favourite pursuits, to take her time in undoing them – or otherwise near-tearing them from their holdings when passion proved too much after they had gained some rest. He had found her rather bashful more than one evening as he brought the tea in from the kitchen, sewing a row neatly back into place, and as the steam cooled in the cups they traded hearty laughter as well as a happy kiss or two when he reached her chair.

His fingers took a chance, bringing the hem of her gown gradually higher. A little but lengthened sigh left her lips at the insistence of his touch, before she drew her hips sharply away from where they were cradled close to him.

"I know just what you're thinking, Mr Bates." Her use of his full title, as subtly teasing as it sounded, didn't prove hopeful to him. "And there'll be none of that. We've already wasted enough time trying to get to sleep tonight. I'd very much like to catch some before the sun rises, which won't be all that long."

He blinked blearily to the clock upon the wall, disappointment settling when his insinuations that the time was in fact earlier than was thought were proved incorrect, and so any further suggestions to the contrary were soundly thwarted.

John groaned, the muggy heat wearing upon his nerves as well as his body now. He draped his arm about Anna's waist and felt greatly more content when she shifted back, fitting the arc of her body to the opening of his, matching pieces of a puzzle. No matter the season or temperature they had to sleep close together, making up for all the absence that had been enforced upon them. He wouldn't have been able to get any rest without having her snuggled against him and he knew that the same was true for her. She would cling to him so fast that he half-wondered how she didn't disappear moulding upon his figure, but he loved it so intensely, holding her to his heart every night as he dreamt of nothing but her.

Her breathing was becoming softer and sounder, and John smiled at her peacefulness; even though he was far from achieving his own, that she felt better able to relax soothed him. He pressed kisses as light as feathers at the nape of her neck, his hand still rested a touch higher than her hip.

God, he did love her in that lighter nightgown, the way it draped upon her figure like sheer silk. There was one blessing for these summer months, at least. It went without saying or even thinking that she was beyond stunning in anything – and nothing, he thought once again – but there was something even more special about that simple white gown, edging her arms and legs with a line of lace. Much like another particular garment of hers that was forever burned on his memory, and brought the sweat rising to his temples anew.

He nuzzled against her shoulder, nudging his nose upon the thin material and the patch of her exposed skin in turn.

She shook her head upon the pillow, wearing a barely restrained smile. Her hand clamped upon his firmly.

"You're complaining about the heat now," she murmured with a touch of authority, which only did more to affect him. "It'll only get worse."

His smile was unmovable as he gathered her gently onto her back, her fingers looping around his arms in assent.

"I don't mind," he breathed, sliding himself down to the edge of the bed, nestling comfortably near her thighs. "You forget that I've dealt with much hotter climates. Fingers tracing down, followed by lips. "This – "

Her high gasp sent instant shivers racing through him, smiling against the tender skin of her stomach as he kissed her languidly there, soon dipping his head lower.

" – is perfect."

A servant's season was the winter, that was what was said. Hard work was appreciated when it did the added job of warming through to the bones. That there hadn't been a summer this warm in a long while caused a fluster to run below stairs and linger for days, but Mr Carson was keen that the discomfort should not show through as he wiped his brow surreptitiously. Glasses of water were consumed quickly between tasks and each of them were permitted additional breaks to step outside and feel the almost non-existent breeze against their faces. The footmen were strangely pleased about their necessity to be immaculately presented, until it emerged that they were at something of an advantage, slipping icy compresses hidden unseen underneath their shirts and jackets. The maids were not so lucky, instead having to make do with passing about a copy of Photoplay, letting the pages lift and ruffle to little effect.

Anna stayed in the pass-through for a few moments, thankful for the cooler air. The jug of water she had refilled not two minutes ago was wonderfully cold against her palms, and she pressed one against her temples, her small sigh echoing, entering into a symphony with the hushed tap of a cane upon the tiles.

She smiled at her husband where he stood, the archway much too small for his broad frame.

"Haven't you anything better to do?" she uttered in jest. She had felt a touch faint, a few moments back, but the quieter and shaded space had recovered her, as well as had the soft looks from John. She was getting well used to thinking of him as John now, and not only Mr Bates, though she rather liked making the distinction. It had a deeper meaning which never failed to make her beam inwardly, and smile a great deal on the outside too.

He returned her cheerful expression with a glint in his eyes. "If there is, then I'm afraid it has entirely escaped my mind."

"Mr Carson won't be best pleased."

His low chuckle met her ears, making her stomach curl pleasantly. He was in his shirtsleeves, not having been upstairs since the morning dressing. Anna admired how they were rolled neatly, crisp whiteness framing the dark hair that dusted his forearms. She tried not to ponder too much upon the way those arms pressed upon her shining skin, the soft hair tickling her like needles, of how they held her securely and didn't dare to let her go for a long time afterward the cascade from every wondrous high.

John's gaze was unswerving; he had noticed her staring, drawing the lust out of this private moment.

Anna released her lip from her teeth, fussing momentarily with her own sleeves.

"It's days like this that I miss my housemaid's dress."

Black absorbed the heat, and silk was hardly comfortable when you were sweating more every minute.

His smile seemed to turn wistful, doing nothing to stop the colour rising upon her cheeks. While his eyes remained devoted upon her, she could see that they were heavy too.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, tenderness in each syllable. Tired, she could tell quite plain. Exhausted, even. He had found it near on impossible to get to sleep in the heat, where she slept like a newborn regardless, and though he had attempted to fib and told her that he had got a couple of solid hours each morning, there was little use when she was able to read him so clearly. Another fact she was immeasurably proud of.

"I'm fine," he insisted. Anna heard the weariness in his voice, not ill-tempered. "I've taken care of most of the arduous work for the week." He smirked lightly, causing her to do the same without knowing quite why. "I'm rather worried that I'll nod off in the middle of mending."

She tutted, though she was rather tickled by the image. "You should go back for a couple of hours. It'll hardly make a difference here."

Her arm reached out towards him instinctively as he came nearer, fingertips brushing his bare skin for the briefest of moments before she right-footed herself. It was too dangerous, even if nobody was able to see them in this little nook.

He shook his head, taking her hand into his. "I can get by until tomorrow. Besides, then I'll have you with me, and I'd much rather that."

Anna didn't hide her smile; it had seemed far too long since their last half-day, when really it had only been the usual fortnight. It was this weather, making the hours lengthen.

"Do you have any plans in mind?"

"I'm not sure," she answered him, enjoying the way his arm had curved about her waist and knowing that he was there against her shoulder. "Ripon came to mind, but I don't know if I fancy the bus much in this heat."

He hummed an answer, yes or no, she wasn't sure. His breath blew warm against the nape of her neck, but she didn't mind in the slightest. In fact she welcomed it.

"Perhaps we could go down to the lake," his voice was low, the husk of it barely contained and quite purposely exaggerated, Anna believed. His fingertips tapped lightly against the fabric covering her waist, and she stopped short a gasp from leaving her throat. "It'd be an idea to go there in a little while, actually." His hand moved with more purpose, stroking a line across her stomach. "Cool ourselves off."

"Mr Bates," she exclaimed, sliding her hand across to meet his. "I'm not sure how you can think such racy thoughts."

"Quite easily," he affirmed. Anna smiled as he placed a kiss just behind her ear, hugging his arm to her body tighter, allowing herself to get lost for a few seconds, her head becoming quite full of suggestions.

The ring of the bell from within brought them both back with a bump, Anna closing her eyes against the sound. The rumble of Mr Carson's voice accompanied, and John shifted his weight onto his more capable foot, hurrying to get back in order to make himself properly presentable. Anna helped to adjust his collar, not letting him leave without kissing his lips quickly, feeling a surge of energy course through her.

Sometimes she didn't know what to do with him, but she was beyond glad that she had the rest of their life together to come to all the conclusions.

They went up to the meadow that led on from the cottages, the afternoon sun bathing the tall rushes of grass in warmth and light. The incline upwards was quite a way, and Anna couldn't shake the worry that it was rather too much for John's leg. He dismissed her fears as easily as the gentle breeze, casting glances over his shoulder as he strode ahead of her, looking quite masterful indeed, so handsome in his striped shirt and open waistcoat. His new confidence played close to the edge, Anna's heart nearly stopping in her chest as he appeared to stumble. Seconds later she was half-relieved to discover that he was having her on, grinning widely as he caught her hand within his, bringing her similarly quickly from her feet and down to his side. She wanted to play affronted, scolding him with a look, but soon wilted when he fixed her with a soft, slow kiss, her limbs relaxing against the bed of grass and his sturdy frame.

She removed her hat, the sun on her face pleasant as her light cotton dress kept her relatively cool. John was half-reclined, his panama hat tipped at an angle. They had taken their time strolling here and while she appreciated the chance to sit and relax it was also the case that the beauty struck Anna as all was quiet around them, save for the soft chirrups of birds calling to one another on high above.

"It's so lovely up here," she sighed in contentment, leaning back a little on her palms while she took in the view. "I think we should make it our business to come more often."

"That sounds good to me," came his easy reply. "And if we should tire of the delights of nature, then home isn't that far away."

His eyebrows were arched suggestively when she cast her gaze back towards him, smiling over her shoulder. She did adore this cheekier side to his nature, still getting accustomed to him behaving in such a manner. She stopped herself from admonishing him quite so much, even in the most playful of ways, realising that it was perfectly acceptable for a husband to say those kind of things to his wife, and she held every single word so dear to her heart.

The basket lay next to them, Anna frowning a little when she considered the precision at which she had gone to in packing it; as yet it had remained untouched. It was still too hot to properly enjoy a picnic, and neither of them had much of an appetite, the only thing they had consumed being the lemonade that Mrs Patmore had made. John had made the suggestion that the start of the autumn might be better, when it was a little fresher. She had smiled in agreement; he maintained that he wasn't one for problem solving, but Anna considered that to be not quite the case. He certainly made any troubles she might have disappear, simply by being with her.

"It suits you," he mused towards her, sitting up slightly. She found it hard to draw her eyes away from his fingers, stroking the stem of a flower he had plucked carefully. "Being out of doors."

"I like it," she smiled in return. "I wish we had more chance to do so. Every day of the summer was spent out on the farm, dawn until dusk. Until my father..."

Her words halted abruptly, her chin dipping down against her chest. The memories stung sharp, bittersweet. She had told him about the death of her father when she was so young as they lay together in the comfort and safety of their bed, the dying night meeting the rising morning. The innocence seeping out of her world as everything was tipped upside down. There had been more to tell but there had been no need, not yet, not when his arms circled her and his lips kissed away her tears where they fell, before they reached their shared pillows.

Her smile returned quicker than she had expected, sorrow fading away under the devotion of his loving look. She let out a breath of a laugh when he touched the small, upward reaching petals to her cheek, the deep purple hue a contrast to both her pale skin and golden, sun-kissed hair.

"This is your home," he rasped in a tone that sent shivers cascading down her spine. "Amongst the wildflowers." His lips closed and parted again, longing collected and held within her. "My own wildflower, more beautiful than any other."

They were still for a moment, staring at one another, too conscious of the love that never stopped blossoming between them, bonding them at each moment of the day whether they were too far away to reach out and touch or were joined in every way imaginable.

Anna was the first to laugh, the sound carrying light upon the air.

"I think that the heat is getting to you, John."

He grinned, and a hot spark rumbled to life inside of him on hearing her utter his given name so freely, so unaware – though he believed she was being quite deliberate too. The smile she gave him in the next moment told him as much. She had done her hair up looser than usual, a few strands tumbled against her face on the journey, and the urge he had to unravel it completely was the one overwhelming thought on his mind.

"I think that something is getting to me."

She laughed again, her eyes upon him as he took off his hat and ran his hand languidly through his hair, having not bothered to put any pomade into it. Even while fulfilling his daily duties he was so much more carefree now, everything about him in these last months lighter and full of joy. It made her happier than anything else she could conceive of, after so long spent weaving within the shadows with only bursts of brightness to sustain them.

He had told her, both gasping for breath striving towards the point of their mutual bliss and completely measured, taking his time to pronounce the words while they sat together, that she was his joy. It never failed to bring tears to her eyes, but so thankfully, these were of the sweetest kind.

He was her joy too, the greatest she had ever known.

She swept a stray lock of hair from his eyes, in silent awe as she gazed down at him; he had taken to reclining again, so very relaxed.

"Anna?" He said her name in such a soft whisper, so different from the desire that he had hardly restrained only moments ago. The kinds of love he showed to her all merged so seamlessly into one wonderful complete whole.

"It's nothing, it doesn't matter now."

His fingers closed around hers, engulfing her hand with his. His touch was soothing, enlivening, giving her courage and the simplicity of support which always gave, never took.

Though a slight sense of sorrow struck her as she thought, she had to smile, considering how quite perfect this day was proving to be.

"I dreamt of this so much, you know," she started, keeping her gaze connected with his. "Spending summer afternoons with you, just the two of us, doing nothing at all but to sit and talk...and kiss."

The smile lifted his lips as the apples of her cheeks blushed ever so slightly.

"I was so worried that that was all it would ever be. A dream." She paused seeing his eyes mist with concern, shaking her head. "I told you it was nothing."

"I don't agree," his hand slid up to cup her face. "I'm glad you dreamt about that. It kept everything alive."

He was so glad to see her break into a smile again, her cheek pressing closer into his palm. Her skin was so soft and so warm, he could almost not bear her beauty.

"We're together now," he said, his pride at the fact consuming him. "We'll have this summer, and so many more besides."

The sun made her glow, an angel come to life, her spirit so wonderfully suited to their surroundings.

"And we have sat," he traced small circles upon her cheek with his thumb, "and have talked..."

She smiled wider, lowering her body to his, brushing his forearm with the sleeve of her dress; she realised she was bathed in flowers, after all.

"I wonder what there is to do next," she teased, holding back her giggle, overcome with growing anticipation.

He caressed the back of her neck, sliding his fingers against the looser strands of her hair. They met halfway, Anna dipping her head down closer. They carried out the promise, kissing deeply as the grass shielded them. She always felt exhilarated and as though she could sink into oblivion with each and every kiss they shared, but the feeling of secrecy contradicted by the fact that they were out in the open added extra passion. The heat of the sun beat down still, and Anna felt scorched in the most pleasant way possible, John's hand holding her head close to him, his lips pressing desperate kisses into her neck. She murmured low, linking her fingers with his so tightly that her nails almost cut into his palm.

How much she had dreamt of him, dreams that had kept her spirit strong during the times when everything had seemed so hopeless, despite all her efforts. She dreamt of them together, holding hands tenderly, the touch feeling so real when they had been denied it for so long. She never felt ashamed for dreaming of him covering her, showing her what the deepest love meant and how euphoric the meeting of two bodies that longed for one another and loved one another could truly be. She would awake, her body and her very soul aching for want of him. The memory always with her and so cherished.

John pulled away after a final light kiss upon her lips, his hand still gentle upon her cheek. He had caught the fire from Anna's eyes and lips, a blaze travelling his body as it would always do when he was so near to her. He did his best to quell it, more than happy to be sharing the time with her alone.

"Will that suffice?" he asked her, eyes twinkling and lips reddened.

"For now," she replied with a small laugh, resting her hand upon his chest.

It wasn't too long before he picked it up, kissing between each of her fingers. She crawled closer to him, placing her head where his heart was thrumming faster, the day slipping away with only them to trace its decline.

"The cottage isn't far," he reminded her with a whisper.

A smile inched across her lips, her eyes gazing up at him while she walked her fingers over his chest.

"I know, but I'm not averse to trying something new."

John caught his breath as in a swift motion she unfastened a button of his shirt, making to work on the one resting below.

"And you did say this was my home, after all," she all but purred, letting her free hand fall lower. "So I think we'll be quite comfortable."

John found that he could say no more, the heat rising to his head even as the day started to cool off, only by a couple of degrees.

She was always his naughty girl, but it seemed like the sultry summertime had made her even more so.

The water sluiced over their limbs and against the sides of the bath, making a rather hypnotic sound echo in the room. John's arms rested at the edges, the hair upon them slickened and even darker than when he was bone dry, and Anna couldn't stop smiling at the sensation of his similarly wet chest hair cushioning her back, her body slotted between his legs. Her hair was less gold, sticking to her head; she could still feel the gentle press of John's fingertips massaging her scalp, his thighs supporting her even while his skin slid over her own like silk. All that was hers was his too, now, the same true in reverse, and she was so very happy that they shared everything with one another.

Their kisses and caresses sheltered by the tall grass of the meadow had grown heated, searing as much as the hot summer afternoon, but they had come to a cease before matters had got past the point of no return. John had whispered something about them needing to be careful not to get sunburnt, and after that Anna had erupted into giggles, quite unable to collect herself. Neither of them minded much; there would be other days, endless summers to venture. They were well-versed in patience, after all. Their passion resumed once they got home, the cottage seeming even closer than it had been out of doors. Kisses were exchanged eagerly, hands reaching to touch and unveil, the feeling of nakedness as liberating as much as it was utterly desired. With the rest of the afternoon stretching out ahead of them their love-making was slow, ripples of pleasure running through Anna in the pauses in-between, escalating when they joined together again and again.

She hadn't realised so much tension had built up within her in the past few days, and the way her husband had collapsed against her spoke of his mirrored relief at their combined release. She ached in the most delicious way, perfectly sated. The cold bath, not usually to her preference, was doing wonders in many ways. Besides, she couldn't complain of a chill, not with the warmth of John's body against her.

He was running the flannel over her, absent-mindedly she thought, until he lingered it over the swell of her breasts. The contrast of cool and heat, the soft cloth with the brush of his roughened fingertips upon one of the places where she was most sensitive caused electricity to course within her. John squeezed the flannel tight, sending rivulets of water to trickle over her nipple which he caught with his thumb. Her soft groan echoed, along with his chuckle of contentment.

"This was a good idea," she managed to mutter, water flowing between her fingers.

"Mmmm," John replied, muffled against her skin as he concentrated on kissing her shoulder. "Very good indeed."

"Much better than being at the lake," she noted. "I know it's a little way away from the house, but can you imagine? I would have died several deaths."

Even if they would have been in his arms, a heavenly way to go.

He laid more kisses upon her glistening form, and Anna didn't mind that he seemed not to have the intention of stopping.

"I would have used the same excuse," he uttered lazily. "The heat going to my head. Driving me entirely mad. There only being one cure."

He nuzzled more ardently, the tip of his tongue a spot of heat against her skin.

"It's alright for some," she chortled breathily.

Her hand met his at her stomach, sweeping away the flannel from where it had stuck to her body. She dunked it beneath the water, rung off the excess. John's hiss made her stomach coil with a slight dread, quickly replaced with delight, as she soaked his knee tenderly, taking the utmost care. His fingers idly stroked her arm and down her left side while she repeated her loving actions, peace washing over them as much.

She had left her eyes closed for too long, and John hadn't bothered to rouse her while she had dozed.

The water swayed and sloshed dramatically as Anna shifted, holding her hand into the air.

"Look at how wrinkled I am!" she exclaimed, more than a little horrified. "My fingers are prunes."

"Nonsense," John spoke leisurely, rather enjoying the view of his wife's flawless back occupying his line of vision. "That's only how you'll be years down the line, anyway."

She made a point to splash some water up against his face. "You're getting far too cheeky, Mr Bates."

"You haven't complained so far," he retorted, his smile a touch smug.

She had risen fully out of the bath, yet hadn't drawn a towel about her and wasn't going to any time soon, it seemed. John's breath was stolen completely, raking his gaze from her elegant shoulders to her rosy breasts, her shapely legs that were shining. Utterly and completely marvellous, from head to toe.

"I believe that I told you," he said, his tone edged with sentimentality as much as raw desire. "I would love you however, whatever..."

"Whenever," she completed in a shaky whisper, overcome with emotion and a world of memories.

He thought that she looked so vulnerable then, even though her eyes were clear and full of love, the love that he still couldn't fully fathom but had stopped trying to, simply accepting it for everything it was.

Lured by her gaze pinned upon him he was out of the tub in the next instant, his broad frame sending a small wave of water cascading over the edge. Anna was awed before him, his long limbs making him tower over her, her neck craning to meet his eyes. She didn't need to see them to know he was smiling, and she felt it better in the small, gentle kiss he pressed to her lips.

The pair of them stood naked, staring only into one another's eyes, perhaps for longer than they cared to admit but reassured in the fact that there was nowhere else they needed to be.

John's hands planted upon her hips and Anna smiled through whimpers as he started to stroke against her with slow, soft movements, one hand curving very carefully downward.

Perhaps there was one other place that they needed to go, but thankfully, it was only a few steps away.

Anna awoke while the dark grew lighter, though she could tell there was still time yet before they needed to be up for the day ahead. With one ear she heard the soft patter of rain, getting gradually louder before a rumble of booming thunder echoed and a crack of lightning flashed. Her breath held instinctively at the force of nature outside their window, but she smiled when the light remained upon his face, all of the features she had spent years gazing at – too little time spent touching as yet – bared before her while he slept soundly, snoring a little. The weather that had now broken allowed him to find his slumber peacefully, after nights of frustration. There was little doubt that their marital pursuits had contributed to his tranquil state too, having made love twice more before they settled into one another's arms, spent for the night.

She unfurled the arm that was still wrapped around her waist gently, being careful not to wake him as she sat up slowly, a satisfying tiredness making her feel not quite part of this world.

In any other world she would have been livid for being awake at such an hour, but not this one. Never this one, where she was laying with her husband and they were together, to share in every precious moment that they truly deserved to have, if she thought so herself.

It was quite the turn-around; she knew that John had spent many a night and early morning marvelling upon her while she slept, his bashful look telling her even before he confessed. She loved the notion of it, feeling so very protected.

She wanted to protect him too, despite the fact he would argue that he hardly needed it, not after everything. She would always beg to differ.

Her hand on his shoulder, charting the soft rise and fall of his breathing, she leaned down to press a kiss upon his cheek while he continued to sleep. His stubble tickled her lips slightly, and she made mind to give him a shove in the morning, in order so that he could be clean-shaven for work.

She knew that it was far more likely that he'd be up and about before she woke up properly, a cup of tea placed at her bedside while he would wait for one until they were up at the house. Everything he did was for her, from the moment he rose until the moment he lay down, and her heart burst upon the fact.

Before she took her place next to his side, she kissed him again firmly but with softness that conveyed the love she had for him, the love that had consumed her ever since those first months he had come into her life.

When she whispered the words into his ear, she could have sworn that he smiled widely within his sleep.

"I love you."

In another world not too far away from this one, he was with her, yet again, and their love made for an eternal summer.

A/N: I've always wanted to write an A/B bath scene. There are several fics that feature them so brilliantly that I've been worried about matching up to them, so hopefully this came off okay.

There are a couple of scenes that I have adapted slightly from Lark Rise to Candleford and Starlings respectively here as well, as I just couldn't resist. Extra points to those who spot them ;)