They had been on a few outings. He had tried to hold her hand and had pressed more than a few dozen kisses to her cheeks and hands and fingers. Each press of his kips to her skin brought a warm flush to his cheeks and Alice thought him adorable.

She had caught him looking at her lips on more than one occasion, but inevitably he returned to fiddling with his cane or changing the subject. He had yet to step forward and steal the kiss that she so wanted him to take.

Twisting in the back of her heart were the thoughts that always lurked: Too weird. Too ugly. Too strange.

Matthew hadn't seemed to care that murder excited her and corpses interested her; didn't seem to mind that she had a strange sense of humor (she was quite proud of the fact she could make him laugh); didn't seem to mind that she was outspoken and forthright.

But his unwillingness to kiss her seemed to indicate that he did mind. And here they were, at the end of yet another outing (her heart wouldn't allow her to call them dates–not yet), and he was once again distracting himself by twirling his cane in his hand and not meeting her eyes.

Steeling herself for the worst, she stopped his walk with a hand on his arm. Matthew covered her hand with his immediately, squeezing gently. "Matthew, we need to talk."

His hand fell away from hers immediately and she watched as he straightened to his full height, face stony and blank. "Right then. You've had enough? Decided it's not worth being with a-a cripple," he spat.

Alice's eyes widened in shock. "What? No! How could you think that of me?"

Matthew glared menacingly at the cane still bearing his weight. "I don't blame you, sweetheart. I know I'm a bloody cranky old sod and you've shown me quite enough generosity in the few dinners we've shared. And now, you want out."

She stepped forward, hand resting flat on his chest. "That's not it at all. I like that you're a cranky old sod." She grinned. "And I happen to find the cane dashing. It has possibilities."

Matthew raised his eyebrows in shock at that, the images flooding his brain of what exactly she could have in mind. He scrunched up his nose, confused. "Then what did you want to talk about?"

Alice clenched her jaw, determined to speak her mind. "Actually, I rather thought you'd had enough of me."

His jaw dropped of its own accord. "What?"

She continued, shrugging one shoulder. "I know I'm not a traditional, feminine woman. I know men like that sort of thing. But I won't change who I am, not even for you, Matthew. So I need you to be honest with me–and yourself. If you don't want me, tell me now. It'll be easier for us both in the long run. At least then, we can both find someone we want to kiss."

Matthew stared at her, unblinking and unspeaking, and Alice's heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Another man who found her too odd and strange.

And then Matthew was cupping her face and tangling his fingers in her hair, pulling her forward and slotting his mouth over hers. She let out a little mmph of surprise before wrapping her arms around his waist. Opening her mouth beneath his, she swept her tongue over the seam of his lips and was delighted when he relinquished control of the kiss to her. With a parting nip to his bottom lip, Alice pulled away, eyes bright and searching.

"Wha–"

Matthew stroked her cheek. "There's nothing wrong with you. I don't want you to change, sweetheart. I want to be with you because you're you, not just any other woman. You're brilliant and amazing and funny and–"

But she cut him off, confused. "But you didn't want to kiss me?"

He blinked at her. "Is that what you think? Alice, I have thought of nothing else but kissing you since we first went out. I thought it was you who didn't want me." He chuckled humorlessly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I was just waiting for you to come to your senses."

Her heart was pounding in her chest as the miscommunication cleared away and for the first time, she saw a bright and clear future for them. Perhaps a future still riddled with insecurities–on both of their parts–but a future nonetheless. But Matthew had never lied to her before and he had said there was nothing wrong with her. He said she was brilliant. And for the first time in her life, she allowed herself to believe that someone could want her. Love her.

She pressed another kiss to his lips–lingering but chaste, just because she could. Breaking the kiss, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder in a tight hug, and whispered into his neck, "What a pair we are."

Matthew turned and nuzzled at her hair and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, reveling in the ability to simply touch her this way. "Does this mean I can start kissing you at every opportunity?"

She reached down and pinched his bottom, teasing, and snuggled further into his arms. "You better."