"Well, did you like it?"

Emma reached across the coffee table to turn off the television, and then swivelled around so she was facing Neal. He was frowning a little and she wanted to know why – he'd agreed to watch Titanic without any argument, so why did he look so concerned?

"What's wrong, I thought you said you wanted to watch it with me."

Neal's face relaxed and he looked at Emma out of the corner of his eye.

"I know, I liked it."

"Well then why are you frowning?" Emma playfully jabbed him in the side, and he pulled her in closer with his right arm that had been draped around her shoulders since she'd pressed play over three hours ago.

"I just thought . . . I dunno." He sighed as he rubbed his face with his free hand.

Emma, exasperated, pulled herself around until she was straddling him, which wasn't easy considering how small the sofa was.

"What do you mean you don't know? You either liked it or you didn't." Emma folded her arms across her chest and stared him straight in the face, waiting for a proper answer.

Neal looked up at her face and gave her a crooked smile. Her face had lit up like a Christmas tree when she'd spotted the DVD in a store two weeks ago, but now she was frowning at him through her black-rimmed glasses, with a pout to rival any two year old throwing a tantrum. He could feel her weight on his thighs as she shifted impatiently, waiting for him to answer.

"Of course I liked it. What's not to like. They fall in love and then he gets turned into an Atlantic popsicle because she wouldn't move over." He grinned, and his eyes crinkled just the way Emma liked. She unfolded her arms and smacked him gently on the chest for being so infuriating and adorable at the same time.

"Fine. I'm never letting you watch any of my favourite movies with me again if you're going to be like that." Before she could push herself off of his lap, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close for a kiss. She could feel him smiling against her mouth as they fell back on to the sofa.

Her protests were muffled as his teeth grazed her bottom lip. His hands were slowly making their way down from her shoulders to the small of her back. She braced herself against the back of the sofa and pushed away from him, breaking contact, and laughed when he raised his eyebrows.

"You just told me you didn't like my favourite movie. I am definitely not in the mood right now."

Neal threw up his hands and rolled his eyes.

"I never said that - I was just making a simple observation!" But Emma was already off the sofa and halfway through the bathroom door.

Neal sighed and stretched as he stood up. He had liked the movie, and it had given him an idea he wasn't sure she would be up for, despite their pretty experimental history.

~ .:. ~

Emma closed the bathroom door with a little more force than usual, and started the shower running. She knew Neal could draw and had been hoping he would take a particular interest in the scene where Rose asks Jack to draw her like one of his French girls. A girl can dream, she thought to herself.

She sighed as she stripped and stepped under the hot water. It only took a few seconds before she heard the door squeak open and a knock on the glass. She grinned to herself but kept quiet – although she couldn't see through the fogged glass, she knew he'd have his face pressed up against it.

"I hope you're not drowning in there. It'd be a shame if you died just because you didn't move a couple inches to the right." Emma could practically hear him smirking, but kept quiet all the same.

~ .:. ~

Silence.

"Oh come on, Emma. You know I'm only joking." Neal squinted against the glass, trying to see through the white haze. He hadn't received such extensive silent treatment since he had accidentally spilled her cinnamon hot cocoa two months ago. He waited a few seconds for her to say something and when she remained silent he rolled his eyes, left the bathroom, and collapsed face first on the bed.

~ .:. ~

Emma was satisfied when she heard the bed springs creak under his weight. Just a little longer, she thought, and he'd be so wound up he'd do anything to get back in her good books. She finished her shower, de-fogged her glasses that had been sitting on the sink and put on the keychain Neal had stolen for her a few days ago. She wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and pressed her ear against the bathroom door to make sure he hadn't moved. When she heard silence, Emma slowly turned the handle and walked out towards the bed.

Neal was lying face first across the bed. With a swivel in her step Emma walked up behind him and sat down on the duvet. He groaned.

"Neal." She turned to look at him. He groaned again without moving.

"I wanna ask you something."

Silence. Emma sucked in a quiet breath and turned away. Just ask him, she thought. If he's not up for it you can just play it off as a joke.

"I want you to draw me like one of your French girls." She couldn't help but smile through the last half of the request.

~ .:. ~

Neal's heart started to race, and after a few seconds he turned his head against the duvet to look at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but a towel, staring at the far wall. Keeping his eyes on her face, he sat up slowly and edged his way towards her. He lightly kissed the back of her neck, making his way up to gently suck at her earlobe. He felt her lean into his touch and proceeded to wrap his hands around her stomach to pull her towards him.

"Neal..." she sighed softly.

"Mmmm?" He replied, now kissing his way down her jaw.

"Is that a yes?"

She turned in his arms until they were nose to nose. He wondered if she could feel the heat radiating from him through the towel.

"I'll go get a pen."

~ .:. ~

Emma watched him as he walked out the door. As soon as it closed she threw off the towel and shimmied her way up the bed until her head hit the wall. Her heart was beating frantically under her bare chest as she peeked out the window to see where he was. Neal was rummaging around in the glovebox of the bug – trying, she knew, to find the sketchpad and pencils he'd stolen from an art supplies store a few weeks ago.

Emma smoothed out the duvet around her and arranged herself in the same position as Rose did in the movie. Every second that passed seemed excruciatingly long until she heard the door handle turn. Neal almost fell into the room looking flushed, with pencils and paper in hand.

~ .:. ~

As soon as he saw her his mouth fell open. Emma was lying on the bed wearing nothing but the keychain necklace and her glasses. The towel lay discarded on the floor.

"You ready?" He asked, his voice catching on the last syllable.

"When you are." She replied.

Neal dragged out the small coffee table to the end of the bed and sat down, balancing the sketch pad on his knees. Pencil in hand he looked up at Emma, causing her to blush crimson. He winked at her and started drawing.

~ .:. ~

She could feel his eyes move over her body as if he was touching her with his hands. She kept her eyes on his face, watching it slowly crinkle with concentration until his hand finally slowed and stopped altogether.

~ .:. ~

"Finished."

It felt as if hours had passed but the clock on the wall said thirty minutes. Neal put down the pencil and stood up, looking over at Emma.

"Can I see?" She asked.

He walked around the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He hugged the sketchpad to his chest and stuck his chin out.

"Only if you promise not to laugh." He grinned at her before handing over the pad.

"Of course I won't laugh," she chided. As soon as her eyes met the paper she was speechless. She had known he was a good drawer but this was ridiculous. She marvelled at how beautiful he had made her look, and at how well he'd shaded in her features. The detail is incredible! she thought.

"It's amazing." She said softly, looking up at him. He had been watching her face intently for any sign of disillusionment.

"You think so? I like the original better," he chuckled, bending down to kiss her. "Now move over."