Dear readers,

This is an insert that belongs in Our Own Way, between chapter 10 "A Private Night Out" and the chapter that will soon follow. It could probably sort of stand on its own, but I would still recommend reading the Doctor's Wife stories for it to make sense, seeing as its conext is all in AU. Just in case, you can find the Doctor's Wife series here:

Part I, The Doctor's Wife: s/12172184/1/The-Doctor-s-Wife
Part II, Searching for Anne: s/12234997/1/Searching-for-Anne
Part III, Our Own Way: s/12833631/1/Our-Own-Way

Thank you for reading!

"Are they asleep?" asked Anne. Gilbert shut the bedroom door noiselessly and nodded. There was an appetite in his eyes that was overwhelming, perhaps a little frightening, but also a bit thrilling. Her pulse thrummed deafeningly in her own ears, and her breathing sped up.

Last night had been nice, but then, they hadn't exactly been locked in the bedroom. In the safety of the great outdoors, she had benefited from the reassuring knowledge that things wouldn't escalate too far, too fast.

And to help matters, Gilbert had let the mood build up organically. After an evening of twirling around the grass, sharing the dance floor only with the trees around them, Anne had been more than delighted to follow him into the barn. They'd sat on the hay and kissed some more, until their air supply ran short, until their heads were spinning until their until the skin of her chin and above her lip felt raw.

That was all very well, but Anne knew that Gilbert wanted more. She wanted more, but wanting and doing were two very different things. Her trepidation was steadily winning over her desire, and she felt her posture becoming defensive. It was an exercise in self control not to cross her arms, but rather to stand straight with her chest out.

Gilbert held out his hand. This was an invitation she could accept: she approached him and took it, her eyes level with his broad shoulder.

"Anne." She looked up into deep hazel pools. "Last night, I told you I'd do anything you want."

"Yes." It was meant as a question, but came out as a statement instead.

"Well, it also goes for what you don't want." She blinked in confusion, so he explained: "I won't do anything you don't like. I want everything I do to make you feel good."

"Gil," she whispered. "That's sweet, but everything? I don't think that's possible-"

"It is. I just have to take certain measures." He squeezed her hand before releasing it. "I won't do anything without asking for permission first."

"Anything? But, Gil..." Anne protested and grabbed him by the upper arms, wishing for the self-assured, confident Gilbert to return to her.

"Anything," he insisted, making no move to hold her. "Every touch, every kiss, every single gesture will require your approval."

"It sounds so... tedious," she lamented, gripping him by the shirt. "You'll drive yourself crazy."

"It's necessary. And the only thing driving me crazy will be not knowing whether you're alright."

"I know I'll be alright, Gil."

He took a step back, his eyes burning with determination. "I've hurt you before, and I had no idea. That's never happening again. Anne, it's either this, or... or I'll stay clear of you."

She gaped at him. "You can't be serious."

"Try me." His gaze was fierce: her stubborn man, her staunch protector.

"Gil..."

Seeing that she was on her way to being swayed, he closed the gap between them. "It doesn't have to be a bad thing," he suggested quietly. "It can even be... exciting. There's no reason for it to impede- we could still reach a satisfactory level of intimacy. I mean, last night was... good, was it not?"

"More than good," she agreed, her face flushed, the wrinkle between her eyes smoothing itself out. He answered in kind with a small smile.

"So - if you're willing - we might give this a try. Go about it a different way."

"Well...alright," she conceded, and was rewarded by the blaze in his eyes. "I suppose we could give it a try."

Gilbert lowered his brow to hers. "I want to carry you to the bed," he rasped, his hot breath caressing her face. She tensed, but only for a fraction of a second: he'd said carry, nothing further. Anne was beginning to appreciate this new approach to intimacy.

"Please do," she breathed against his cheek. Swept off her feet, she clung to his neck while strong arms transported her across the room. He set her down on the edge and sat next to her, the side of his leg pressed against hers. His arm reached behind her, and a light pressure at the base of her braided hair made her scalp tingle in the most pleasant way.

"May I?" he asked, his fingers traveling down to the white ribbon holding the red flames of her hair. Anne nodded her consent. The ribbon was tugged, the gesture excruciatingly slow, until it finally fell untied. Cautious fingers caught the ends of her hair. They moved slowly, carefully deconstructing the intricately designed plait, handling each lock as if it was made of precious material.

It felt oddly like being undressed, every strand loosened a discarded garment. Anne's breathing quickened. She marvelled at how such an innocent act could offer such a promising thrill, at how his fingers could set her skin on fire without even touching it.

Gilbert sat back and admired his work: the glorious, red mane had been freed, its wavy tendrils framing her flushed face, her grayish-green orbs shining with desire. His chest inflated with pride and arousal.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he leaned in so that their lips were nearly grazing. "Is that alright?"

She was barely able to nod before pressing her mouth to his. She anchored herself to his shoulders as his finger threaded through her loose hair, touched her upper back, traveled down her spine. She felt a surge of pleasure when his hands came to encompass the sides of her ribs, and groaned in disappointment when he pulled back.

He chuckled a little at her protest. "I'd like to remove your stockings, if I may."

"Yes." Anything to get him to touch her some more. Gilbert wasted no time getting on the floor: he kneeled before her and lifted her right foot. Cradling her ankle delicately in one hand, he removed her slipper with the other, then let his fingers roam up until they hooked on the edge of her garment.

He looked up at her with a devilishly handsome grin, and peeled the item off at the speed at which a glacier would melt. It was an odd combination of being tortured and cherished through which Anne muddled as he repeated the process on her left side, until finally both her legs were bare.

Gilbert held up her foot like a prize in his hands. "May I?" he asked.

Anne had no idea what it was he meant to do, but nodded anyway. He seemed to hesitate for a beat, then bent his head to kiss the tip of her foot. Anne squirmed and gripped at the bedsheets, throwing her head back in ecstasy when his mouth closed over her toe, sucking in a most delicious and sinful manner, his tongue caressing her in a place no one had ever thought to explore.

How wrong she had been, to ever think a foot was just a foot. His thumb traced patterns on her sole, where all the nerves in her body appeared to be concentrated. When his teeth nibbled teasingly at her toe, she thought she might jump out of her skin. Not knowing what it was she was seeking exactly, she pushed into his hand, frantic for release, driven by need. He obliged, pressing his thumb now more forcefully in the most tender part beneath her instep, the one that never touched the ground when she walked, and her breath caught: stars exploded before her eyes, and she let herself fall back.

As her senses gradually returned, Anne took a moment to appreciate the awkwardness of her position: half on the bed, half off, her right foot on the floor. Gilbert gently lowered her left foot to the ground: she craned her neck in time to see him stand up.

"I had no idea that was possible," she panted, righting herself as he sat down next to her.

"Did you like it?" he asked, smirking like the cat who'd caught the canary.

"Like it? Gil, that was just..." she sighed.

A low rumble of laughter shook his chest at her enthusiastic response. "There's more where that came from," he promised. "Anytime you want. Though, perhaps not right this minute."

She nodded and dared to meet his gaze when she asked: "What about you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"Surely, you'll be wanting..."

He smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Anne nodded. "I wish I could- it's just that... I'm not sure I'm quite ready to- er...take care of you. At the moment."

"Then we'll wait. We'll build up to it, little by little."

She bit her lip. "You're sure you won't mind? What if it takes forever?"

Gilbert sustained her stare. "Then we'll take forever. Together."