They had moved Angela into a room of her own only a few weeks earlier, both of them enjoying the freedom of having the room to themselves once again. On a normal Saturday morning, Shelagh and Patrick Turner would enjoy a lazy lie-in, both of them curled together under the covers in the comfort of half-sleep, exchanging soft kisses before facing the day.

This morning, however, it appeared that wouldn't be the case.

She could tell he was awake by the way he was breathing. They weren't the slow, rhythmic breaths of a man comfortably asleep but shorter, rapid ones that tickled the back of her neck on every exhale. Coming to her senses slowly, she felt his right hand clutching hers underneath her pillow. His left however, was on her thigh, gently tracing his fingers in soft circles on her skin, trailing underneath the silky fabric of her nightdress. Shelagh willed herself not to move, not to give into the temptation of a heated tussle with her husband before their children woke up and demanded their attentions. Cracking one eye open, she could tell from the sunlight making it's way across the bed sheets that even if she succumbed to her husband's attentions, they wouldn't have much time.

"I know you're awake, my love." he whispered huskily in her ear, his voice gravelly from a mixture of sleep and desire. The puff of air he emitted caused her to shudder involuntarily, pressing her back more firmly into his chest and subsequently, his very obvious arousal.

"Patrick..." she glanced over her shoulder at him as he took her lips with his own, pulling her flush against himself until their chests were touching.

Their tongues moved together slowly, battling for dominance in a lazy duel that neither felt the need to win. Patrick moved so that he was looming over her, one hand pressed against the mattress to support himself as the other slowly trailed from her neck down her sides in swirling motions. Shelagh wrapped her arms around his neck as they kissed leisurely, losing herself in the sensations of her husband's touch. As his mouth dipped from her lips to her neck and collarbone, she held back the moan that was threatening it's appearance.

"Patrick...the children..." she whispered, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"We've got plenty of time before they wake up."

She scoffed as he lightly grazed her neck with his teeth.

"You always say that...and you're always wrong." she groaned.

He pulled away from the spot on her neck that he was currently laving with his tongue before kissing her deeply, feeling her yield to him immediately.

"I like to think of myself as an optimist, Mrs. Turner." He kissed her again before returning to her neck, pulling a moan from her throat as he bit down.

"I- oh!- I really don't think this is a good idea." Shelagh gasped as his hand found it's way under her nightgown, slowly traveling up her inner thigh.

Patrick shifted so that their faces were level.

"Do you not want to, my love?" He asked her as she fluttered her eyes open at the question. As she made to respond, he moved his hand higher, eliciting a sharp gasp from his wife. "Because all evidence points to the contrary."

Between the placement of his hand, his heated gaze and the desire humming within her, Shelagh didn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she arched her back from the mattress wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling her husband's lips back to her own.

Patrick rolled to his back, taking Shelagh with him until she straddled his waist, their kisses becoming more heated by the second.

Knowing they were playing with borrowed time, Patrick sat up, curling his arms around his wife's back and letting them rest on her backside. Grasping the edges of her nightdress, he tugged it upwards over her head, their lips disconnecting from one another just long enough to do away with the silky material and toss it across the bed. Shelagh fumbled at the buttons of Patrick's pajama top, clumsily trying to wrench the top from his shoulders while Patrick was struggling out of his bottoms. Once both of them were successful in their missions, Patrick leaned back against the pillows, his hands moving to Shelagh's hips.

Just as they were about to connect, their bodies straining towards one another, a piercing cry rang out through the flat.

Angela.

They both stilled, panting heavily, and neither one of them breaking eye contact.

"Wait...she'll go back down." He whispered harshly, his hands practically shaking on her hips.

Shelagh kept still, knowing that if she moved even an inch, neither of them would be able to control themselves. Her blood was pounding in her ears as she waited for their daughter to soothe herself.

"Mama!" came another cry even louder than the first, followed by hearty sobbing from the nursery down the hall.

Patrick and Shelagh stared at one another, both of them deflating at the sound of the cries.

"Damn it." came a breathless groan.

Patrick removed his hands from her waist as Shelagh unhitched her leg from his torso and stood from the bed to find her dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around herself as her husband put his pajama shirt back on.

A knock sounded on the door a moment later. "Mum? Angela's crying and she won't stop for me."

"I'll be right there, Timothy." Shelagh called as she moved towards the door, glancing behind her to make sure Patrick was sufficiently clothed before opening it to find her stepson half-awake with his hair a mess. "Thank you for trying, dearest."

As she closed the door behind herself, Patrick let out a frustrated breath before reaching over the side of the bed for his bottoms. Once he was dressed, he threw on his dressing gown over his pajamas and went out to join the rest of his family.

Shelagh stood in the kitchen with Angela on her hip, her head leaning against his wife's shoulder and her thumb in her mouth, while Shelagh waltzed around the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Timothy was sitting at the table, reading his latest adventure book and not paying any attention to either of his parents. Patrick took a good look at his wife, her hair disheveled and a blush still pinking her cheeks and neck. Turning to look at him, their eyes said more than they could with words. She moved to the shelves before she started frantically moving items about, obviously looking for something.

"Timothy? I'm sorry to interrupt your book, dearest...but we seem to be out of sugar. Could you run down to the corner shop and pick some up? Perhaps take your sister with you, maybe the fresh air will put her back down for a bit."

Tim nodded without arguing, a sign of his devotion to his stepmother. If Patrick had asked him to do it, he would have gotten a pre-teen earful in response. He reached out for Angela, settling her on his hip as Shelagh handed over a few notes from her purse. "Thank you, dearest. I'd go myself, but I don't think leaving the house in a dressing gown is the best idea." she chuckled.

As soon as his wife shut the door behind their children, Patrick's arms were around her grasping tightly through the fabric of her dressing gown as Shelagh crushed her lips to his and pushed him towards the bedroom.

"We have plenty of sugar, but I couldn't wait until tonight."

"Minx." was his whispered response, neither of them wasting any more time with words, only actions.