A/N: Someone (precisely who escapes my memory) posted on tumblr a little thing that just said 'This is your reminder that Charles and Elsie's first kiss tasted of Champagne' …. This is where my brain went with that. Here we are, back at the beginning of season 6 and the end of episode 1.

The lamplight in his pantry glowed warmly, seeming to throw the room back into the candlelit era before the war. It cast shadows so that the edges of the room were softened, and as Elsie Hughes plucked up the courage to tell her fiancée that there would be no reason to call off the wedding, nor that it would be anything other than a full marriage, so too did the lamplight pick up the hidden spots in her face and reveal them to the man standing before her.

Mr Carson stared down at the woman who had just fully opened her heart to him and wondered just how it was that he could love her more in this moment, when he was already convinced that his heart was entirely filled by her. If he wanted her – If! He had no answer to her implied question – not one he could put into words at any rate. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to silently move towards her, and hope that his eyes spoke for him.

They were certainly compelling enough to draw her attention, for she raised her face up to meet him slightly. He dared to rest his right hand on the base of her neck – the first time he had touched any skin other than her hand. It was softer than he had ever let himself imagine, and she was so small, his hand so large, that his fingertips brushed her carefully styled hair as well.

He was drawn nearer and nearer to her lips and he closed his eyes, half believing that she might slip away if he did not.

Whether she closed her own eyes he did not know, but he hardly cared, for his sensations were thrown into overload. His left hand fluttered on her shoulder for a moment as their lips finally touched, but a tiny sound reached his ears, which he realised came from her, and was more a light sigh than a moan. It delighted him, however, and emboldened him to greater liberties. His hand left her shoulder and spanned her cheek. That precious part of her he had so longed to kiss in times of turmoil.

His touch was so light, but it spoke of so many things to come that he might as well have pinned her to the wall. Her skin tingled where he touched it and she felt like she could soar to the skies on the power his lips instilled in her. He drew back, clearly aware of the tightrope of decency they negotiated, and she flashed him a smile of assurance, feeling more like herself than she had in the past few weeks.

Although he had ended the embrace, he appeared loath to dispense with contact altogether, for he tilted her head towards him and placed the most devoted kiss on her forehead. It told her of his devotion, but revealed commitment, friendship and kindness as well. It sang, above all, that it was her or no one. He meant every word of what he had said on Christmas eve.

Their arms wrapped about each other as they stood and appreciated the vast journey they had been on in just a few minutes. Her eyes fluttered open once, and then closed as she allowed herself to sink into the embrace. They swayed slightly as their breathing fell into sync and the sounds of life beyond the door filtered through.

'Charles …?'

She wasn't sure how loudly she had spoken, nestled as she was in his arms, and in any case, he was drawing circles on her back, and what point was there in conversation anyway, when he made her forget how to breathe, let alone what she was going to say.

'Hmmm …. Elsie?'

She drew back slightly, but allowed her hands to rest on his arms, so that he would know she did not want to surrender contact entirely, and looked up at him. Her lips tingled and she brought up her hand in wonder and touched them lightly with her fingertips.

'I hadn't imagined …' she let out a light laugh and squeezed his arm. 'Our first kiss and it tasted of Champagne!'

'Did it?' he murmured, 'I think my mind was too full of how you felt to notice how you tasted.' His eyes creased a little at the sides as he smiled down at her. 'I'll have to pay better attention this time.'

Her eyes widened slightly at his eagerness to repeat their action, but she made no move to resist him as he leaned towards her and then covered her lips with his own once more.

She was correct, he thought. The very feel of her mouth caused his own lips to tingle as if they had been subjected to a million tiny bubbles. It wasn't only that which reminded him of a fine wine. There was a freshness to be found from her lips – perhaps it was the lack of any rouge which allowed him to taste the clear, slightly sharp, essence that was so plainly her. The warmth of her beneath him gave a richness to the embrace. She was, like the best wine, so well-structured and even as he immersed himself in the kiss, his nose detected the fragrant notes that were simply her scent, and which now seemed to seep into him from the nearness of her skin.

He doubted he would have stopped to think of their gentle caresses in such a manner, but now he did, he was overwhelmed by the gift she had given him. It was amazing and wonderful, and kindled his desire to heights that he had previously promised himself he would keep under firm control. A groan slipped from him and his mouth widened, his tongue darting over those delectable lips beneath his own. She granted him the access he sought and her hands came up to grasp his shoulders as the passion they finally allowed to fly free threatened to physically unbalance her.

The kiss drew to a leisurely close, they both returned to place light pecks to lips, cheeks, eyelids even, as they stepped back to allow themselves the chance to recover their thoughts.

'April.'

He had been about to suggest they go back to the party, knowing that if they stayed cocooned in his pantry for much longer, he would not be able to refrain from kissing her a third, fourth, fifth time, when her single word refocussed his attention on her. She was not looking at him, had addressed the ceiling instead.

'What about April?'

'For the wedding. I don't much mind when, as long as there's enough white roses for my bouquet.'

She dared to look at him then and was gratified to find that soft, happy, expression she had inspired the night of his proposal now graced his face. He blindly reached for her hand, brushing her hip as he did so, and once his prize was gained, he drew it up and placed it over his heart. The tips of her fingers flexed on the still material of his dress shirt, and she returned his smile.

'April', he agreed. 'I'll telephone Mr Travis in the morning. And I'd better start looking into finding a piper.'

Her startled, delighted laugh rang about the room, chasing the shadows that the lamps cast. 'You don't need to go to that sort of trouble.'

'Nothing is a trouble when it celebrates your heritage Elsie. A piper and some heather seem small things to give you.'

'Heather?'

'It will go nicely with the white roses won't it? I don't pretend to have your eye when it comes to floral …'

His words died as she stepped towards him and ran her hand over his cheek, the first time she had touched his skin that evening.

'Very nicely' she whispered as she rose up to seek out his lips.

The spark of contact fizzed between them and as their lips slid over each other, they drank each other in. The pleasure they shared was clearer and more intoxicating than even the finest wine, but, just as with the best champagne, their embrace promise greater delights the more they indulged, and so they allowed their embrace to deepen. Certain things were better with age, or so people said, and this interlocked couple certainly agreed that champagne and their happiness were testament to this fact.

A/N: What does champagne taste like …. I don't know is the answer, and I wasn't about to crack open a bottle just to do proper research. Not on a week night. Websites on Veuve Clicquot had to suffice.

Hope you enjoyed this little piece of silliness. A review or two would fill me with delight (much like champagne does!)