It was a quiet night in Ladrian Manor. The electric lights gleamed on the recently polished metal of Waxillium's guns spread across his lap and placed on the floor around him. He finished cleaning fingerprints and dirt off the revolver in his hands and set it down beside his chair with its sister and his rifle. He sighed contentedly and settled deeper into his chair, looking over at Steris who sat taking tea near the fire. He was surprised to see her looking at him intensely with her tea cup resting in her lap. He smiled benignly and she pursed her lips.

"Sorry, dear, did you say something?" Wax asked, bemused. She was looking at him through her eyelashes, glancing between his face and the guns on his lap. The colour in her cheeks seemed to have risen.

"Lord Ladrian," she said, smoothly, "I thought I noticed that your mistcoat was a little... worse for wear when you came in a few nights previously. Would you go and grab it so I can see to its mending?"

Ah, Wax thought, smiling again slightly.

"Of course, dear." He said, collecting his unpolished guns and replacing them on his couch. He made a point of unbuttoning and shrugging out of his waist coat which he folded over the back of the seat.

Waxillium recognised and understood Steris' attraction to his mistcoat, or rather, her attraction when he was wearing the mistcoat and the associated attraction of his guns, but that didn't make it much less baffling to him; but of course, he wasn't going to complain about anything that made their home life more... agreeable.

When he reentered the sitting room with his mistcoat draped over one arm Steris was stooped over her highly organised sewing kit, pulling out pins with coloured heads, grey thread and an array of needles. She stood quickly, spinning to meet him, quickly noting the mistcoat on his arm. He was toying with her: he wasn't sure if she'd caught on yet.

"Lord Ladrian if you would be so kind as to throw on your mistcoat it will be much easier for me to find any tears."

"Oh yes, of course!" Wax cried quietly, shaking his head. He threw the coat on with as much flair and dramatic rustling as he could muster, his body following the flow of the coat's movement. He ended his spin facing her, his coat settling around him.

"Very good." Steris murmured through a tight throat.

She had just set her hands to a few of the tassels to feel for tears when he interrupted her.

"Hmmm. I think the grey of my shirt is too similar to the grey of my coat." He mused. Without further comment he stepped away from her hands and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of his coat, draping it on top of his waist coat. He slid his arms back into his coat and pretended not to see Steris's appreciative eyebrow raise. It was perhaps a heavy handed move on his part.

"This should make your task easier." He said with a disarming grin as he stepped in again. Steris nodded and blinked quickly a few times. She cleared her throat, eyes on his well muscled torso. (oh mr ladrian u fiend. U muscular sexy fiend)

They stood in relative silence for a long while, the only conversation coming from Steris' instruction to Wax to turn or lift his arms, and his obliging replies. He noticed that occasionally her hands would hover over his most recently acquired scars, the scars he'd received when rescuing her from Miles.

"Well," Steris said breathily, "I've marked out all the places that need attention. In the coat."

"Fantastic." Wax replied, shrugging out of the coat and handing it to her. He immediately walked to his favoured couch and slipped back into his shirt and vest, efficiently minimising the time Steris had to ogle him outside of... contracted times while he was distracted. "Well while you fix that I think I'll finish polishing my guns."

Steris finished her work quickly as the coat wasn't in such a drastic state as she'd alluded to. Wax was finishing up on his last gun when she draped the coat over the arm of another couch. She cleared her throat tentatively. Wax looked up at her.

"Lord Ladrian I notice that it's the second evening of the week and you've yet to claim one of your three rightful conjugal encounters. If you're ever to receive an heir..." She trailed off, studying the mantel piece as a blush smoothly crept it's way across her cheeks and up her neck.

"Steris, would you like me to visit you tonight?" Wax asked, raising an eyebrow amusedly. She collected herself and started to rustle her way out of the room without a word; Wax was beginning to think he must have miscalculated when she paused briefly by his chair.

"Bring the mistcoat." she murmured.