Authors Note: Hey everybody. It's been awhile since I've done a one-shot/short story so I really hope you like this one. It was inspired by a picture I saw recently and I'll try to add it to the bottom of this so you can see.

I have some important announcements to make here: I will and am building a website for myself. You may know that I have a blog ( .com) which has served me well for the past year and a bit but it's no longer enough. I need a website so I can do all the things on there that I can't do on a blog. Because of that, I will eventually (not just yet, but soon) move my oneshots and stories across to the website, when it's up and running. And I will be posting future work on the website. With that in mind, if you wish to continue following me and getting not only new fanfics but also the latest book release information, giveaways, newsletters and more exciting stuff I want to do in the future, please make sure that you are signed up for email notifications on my wordpress blog. I want to give as much time as is needed for everyone to move across so I don't lose you all in the transition from a blog-only to a full website.

Thank you and as always, I love to hear from you.

PS: Just in case there are people who aren't aware that my first novel, Fractured has been released and is receiving five star reviews on Amazon, Goodreads and other book sites, please hop on over to my blog and check it out. The links are right there on the front page.

VELVET RED

The drive home usually only took ten minutes or so but tonight in this heavy snowfall, it was taking twice that. TTC had sidelined streetcars and buses with only the subway, their car or their feet available to commuters. Even taxis were scarce. And most people weren't foolish enough to be out walking around in this. The window wipers were battling a fierce war against the white stuff as it splattered against the glass, the gloom of the dark grey skies as heavy as a thick blanket cast over the entire city; spindly bare tree limbs like long fingered talons across the frigid ground.

Damn but it was freezing outside.

I'd forgotten how cold it could get in North America. Whilst Paris had its cold and snowy seasons too, it didn't get as icily bitter, rarely going below zero. Can't say that I'd really appreciated the warmer climate there until now. Here, in Toronto, the summer months had been really humid and now in the dead of winter, it was minus 4 Celsius and enough to freeze your balls off.

As I drove down Davenport Road heading towards home, I felt the curl of anticipation as it flickered in my system. Didn't matter how long we'd been together, I still felt that little hitch in my belly knowing I'd be seeing her. Married almost six years, it hadn't lessened one iota. Had, in fact, deepened. Hooking a right turn onto Glen Edyth, my headlights cut through the gloom and arced over the large double storied homes of neighbours that I had yet to meet despite the fact we'd been here 8 months already. We had only really seen a couple of our side by side neighbours in this quiet semi-suburban area.

South Hill, Toronto was a middle to upper class area and it suited us perfectly – full of regular working people with regular normal lives, not too far from my new job at Toronto General Hospital yet far enough away to keep to ourselves and without the hectic pace of New York. As much as I loved my old home, as much as I missed it sometimes, I'd sure enough gotten used to the slower pace of life in Paris; the peace. Other than that one incident where we'd chased and caught a purse snatcher, we had stayed away from any risky crime fighting. After the French police had been a little too suspicious of our involvement in the thief's capture – "Monsieur, you were so quick to apprehend him. How is your speed possible?" - we had decided that that was IT - we weren't taking any more chances. That we weren't gonna risk it all again after the effort it had taken to get us out of New York and into our new lives and identities. So we'd made a pact and had lived by it for five plus years. I'd gotten what I had always wanted - a normal peaceful life with Catherine. And we'd loved it, glorying in the sheer reliable routine and freedom of living as regular people do.

Until it shattered in the blink of an eye and we were thrust back into a world we'd hoped never to return to...one filled with more fear and heartache beyond even what we'd already experienced. The gut-twisting uncertainty of unchartered waters, of living in stupefied terror of what is and what could be.

Turning into my driveway and pressing the remote button for the garage door, I once again mentally thanked JT, Tess and Dana for their help in getting us here to Canada; they'd pulled off a damn miracle. I don't know what would have happened to us without them and I sure as hell didn't like to think about it.

Sliding the Jeep into the garage, the automatic roller door shut behind me as I turned off the engine and sat there in the dark for a moment, needing a couple of calming breaths. It still gave me sharp twinges in my chest to think of those days; my belly roiling sickeningly at the remembered swirl of chaotic, frightening emotions. God...I'd been so crazed. Scared outta my mind. For Catherine. For us both. So daily I thanked JT, Tess and Dana for the strings they'd pulled, the favours they'd called in and the meticulous planning that had allowed us to get to Toronto, to get to the help we needed. I was so damn grateful to them all that words failed me. I was one helluva lucky bastard.

With one more deep breath, I let go of those memories and thought instead of what waited for me inside the warm confines of my home and my heart did its usual flip of anticipation. It happened without fail, every time. I loved coming home. Despite the mantra that filled my head these days ...twelve weeks, three days and 5 hours... twelve weeks three days...twelve... the nagging voice in my head that repeated those words, over and over again... despite that...because, God knows I could endure much, much more than that. Hadn't I, before I'd met Catherine?

Yes I had and I could survive far longer if I had to.

Damn right I could.

With an empathetic nod of my head, I got out of my car and headed towards the door that led to the interior of the house. The warmth enveloped me as soon as I stepped in - a warmth that wasn't only the heating but was the heart of the place. We'd only been here eight months but unexpectedly this house already felt like our forever home, something that hadn't really happened in our little Paris apartment. Leaving my keys and wallet on the side table as I walked past the linen closet, through the laundry room and into the modern spacious kitchen, I could hear the smooth tones of Tony Bennett declaring that he'll be home for Christmas and I followed the music to the living room.

It was a couple days until the big day and Catherine had gone all out with the decorations and gifts this year - she'd been like a madwoman; adorable but exasperating in her insistence that it had to be just perfect - every decoration and tinsel carefully placed in just the right spot and every gift wrapped meticulously, with ribbons tweaked just so. Our house was decorated to within an inch of its life, I swear. And the gifts themselves - there was a literal mountain of them. Seriously.

My wife was nuts.

Not that she was solely responsible for the ridiculous horde stashed under the tree. I was responsible for some, I admit.

Well...maybe more than some.

Okay, okay. I was responsible for most.

But I couldn't help myself. Who could under the circumstances? I was totally justified, in my opinion and any teasing she gave me on that subject, she copped just as much back because she was equally guilty of going overboard. Besides, as Catherine had said - this first Christmas back on American soil with all our family coming to stay with us had to be special and perfect and she was right. With Tess, JT, Heather and Aaron all coming to stay a few nights, it was gonna be crowded, but I couldn't wait. We'd been so far away from them for years...

Yeah, this Christmas was gonna be amazing, I smiled at the thought.

Then I had a heart attack.

As I stepped into the doorway of the living room, I came to a screeching halt, my jaw dropped, eyes bugging out as my breath caught and a massive hot flush washed over my body. I gawked as my heart stopped briefly before taking off in a wild gallop, pounding like a sledgehammer at my ribs. Taking in the scene, I broke into a sweat and I swear I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. There stood my wife, in front of the massive 10foot tall pine Christmas tree dripping with baubles and tinsel and pretty fairy lights sparkling in the lamplight. The mountains of gifts under the tree had been rearranged and cleared back towards the wall to make way for a picnic blanket that was strewn across the floor under the large branches. And my wife...

Lord have mercy.

I sucked in some much needed air as I stared at her. She hadn't heard me come in, the music and her own low key singing covering the sounds of my footfalls. She stood in profile, wearing some huge oversized red Santa hat atop her head, long hair tumbling half way down her back and white fur trimming framing her beautiful face. It was thick as a Cossack hat, that trim. Her shoulders were completely bare and she wore a red velvet corset-y kinda dress cinched tightly around her slim waist, the thin black lines of lacing a stark and sexy contrast as it marched up her torso. The dress barely covered her butt and the white fur trimming her tits and flared mini-skirt had saliva pouring into my mouth. There was some sort of white petticoat stuff happening under there, all frilly and baby-doll cute, making the skirt sit wide and high. Her long luscious thighs were on full display until you got to her knees and there was more white fur lining the tops of her black, knee-high boots with...Sweet Jesus, have mercy...with five inch stiletto heels.

My own knees trembled. She stuck her hands under her tits and adjusted the fit of the corset to make them sit up even higher, the lush roundness spilling over the white trim and I think I saw stars. When she raised one leg to rest her foot on the ottoman and fiddle with the lacing on the boots, I know I did. Leaning forward she flashed the bare cheeks of her butt and I got a quick glimpse of white lace gee string.

I whimpered quietly.

Done with her boot, she straightened, turned in my direction and was so startled to see me standing there that she half screamed and clutched her heart, shocked surprise causing her to wobble on the high boots slightly until she managed to right herself. I'd frightened her badly it seemed but I was too busy drooling to really care.

"Uuughhhhh!" she yelled in accusation. "What are you doing here?!"

"I live here," I replied automatically, ogling the lush mounds so temptingly displayed in that ridiculously sexy get-up. My mouth watered.

"No, I mean...I..." She stuttered, flustered and flushed. "I wasn't expecting you."

My eyebrows shot up. "Who were you expecting?" I asked in surprise. "Santa?"

Wait...am I meant to be Santa?

"No, smarty," she said with an eye roll. "You! But I... Dammit, you're early and now it's all ruined!" She huffed unhappily.

"What's all ruined?" Why was she getting upset? I was confused. My body throbbed with heat and the lesser blood flow to my brain was making it hard to keep up.

"My surprise for you." Her voice was forlorn, heavy with disappointment.

What the hell was she talking about?

"Honey, you've surprised the hell out of me, believe me..." I said gruffly, my eyes tracing over her slim thighs. How could she possibly think anything was ruined? She was absolutely gorgeous and had me panting in want. If anything was ruined, it was me.

"But I was planning to..." Her hands gestured in agitation. "I mean, I wanted the champagne and the pillows and ..."

"For what?"

"Well..." She said hesitantly, her green gold eyes sparkling as a deep blush stained her cheeks.

Wait a minute... My lust-addled mind skidded to a halt. "Were you...?" I began in a gruff voice, desire clogging my throat. I cleared the thickness and started again.

"Were you gonna seduce me under the tree?" I held my breath for her answer, desperate for that to be true.

"Yes!" She exclaimed with a sudden toss of her hands in the air. "But it's ruined now."

My gut clenched in stupefied wonder at her yes then twisted at the disappointment flooding her wide eyes. "No, it's not!" I denied quickly. Dear God, don't tease me with seduction then snatch it away.

"But I wanted to be all laid out under the tree for you," she almost wailed, eyes shining suspiciously.

"Like a Christmas present?" I asked gruffly, visions of Catherine sprawled under the tree dressed in this sexy-ass outfit flooding my imagination and weakening my knees. Oh God, did this mean...?

"Yes. Then maybe you'd be...you know...excited and we could ..." She trailed off as a thought seemed to occur to her and she met my eyes hopefully.

"Would you consider leaving and coming back in a while?"

"No." Hell, no.

"But..."

"Honey, there's no need for me to leave." I walked closer till I was only inches from all that velvet red glory. "Why would I want to?" I asked, doing my damnedest to not stare at her extra lush cleavage.

"But if I was laying under the tree, in this outfit then maybe you'd want me again and we could..." Her voice rose.

"Want you again?"

What! Had she lost her damn mind?

"I always want you!" My voice rose.

"No, you don't!" She argued and my mind reeled, stunned at the insult.

"That's not true!" I snapped, gaping at her slack jawed again.

"It is true!" She insisted, hands planting themselves on her hips. "Ever since Billie came into the picture, you've been distant."

The outrageous accusation slapped me around the face so hard and fast, my head almost kicked back.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Now my hands gestured wildly as steam poured out of my ears in frustration and angry bewilderment.

"You haven't touched me since Billie..." Sparks of green fire shot from her eyes, laser sharp.

"I couldn't!" I fired back at her defensively. "You couldn't! After what Billie did to you!"

My God! Were we really arguing about this?

"But since then?" Her voice lowered, anger dissipating slightly as hurt vulnerability crept into her tone and eyes. "I know you, Vincent and I know your appetites. If you still wanted me, you would have had me, even with Billie around to distract you." Her eyes welled up again, slaying me mercilessly with their wet green beauty.

"But...but..." I stuttered, completely lost and she ploughed right over my floundering attempts to make sense of all this.

"So you're not attracted to me anymore and I thought if I dressed up..." she began.

"Like hell I'm not !" I growled loudly. "You just flashed your ass at me and I'm as hard as a rock!" Couldn't she see that?

"Then why won't you touch me?" She demanded, anger flashing red hot as she glared at me.

How the hell that giant Cossack Santa hat with the enormous fluffy ball hanging down one shoulder, managed to stay in place with all her agitated gesturing was beyond me. It should have looked ridiculous on her considering it's over sized proportions but instead she just looked damned sexy and adorable. And that made me even more angry. There she stood - a sexed up, living fantasy, spouting crazy false accusations at me, confusing my mind and reasoning abilities while making my body throb with long suppressed want.

"Damn it! I was trying to respect you!" I defended myself.

"I don't want you to respect me!" She huffed illogically. What the hell? Did she realise what she'd just said?

"You said you were tired all the time!" This was so unfair. How the hell did I end up being the bad guy?

"I was!" She fumed, squinting at me in supreme fury.

"You said you needed time after what happened with Billie!" I wasn't backing down on this.

Our eyes locked in fierce combat, sparks flying the way they always did when we argued. "I did need that!"

"Well then, why are you blaming me for respecting you!" Seriously, this made no sense.

"Because it's been nearly 4 months!"

She yelled so loudly she surprised herself and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, wide eyes flashing towards the hallway. Mortified, she gave a huge defeated sigh and collapsed onto the ottoman, her slight shoulders slumped dejectedly.

I stood there, blinking rapidly at the sudden silence, thick with heaving emotions. Looking down at my wife, the love of my life, I dragged in a much needed calming breath.

What the hell we were fighting about?

"Twelve weeks, three days and five hours." I muttered ruefully.

"What?" Her head snapped up and her beautiful eyes met mine, confused yet hopeful.

"Give or take a few minutes," I added with a half smile.

"You know how long it's been?" She blinked rapidly in breathless entreaty.

"I've been counting," I admitted, stepping closer to crouch in front of her, my gaze hooked into hers and refusing to let go as I said: "Every long, damn second."

Her lips trembled a little, curving ever so slightly into a hesitant smile. "So dressing up wasn't necessary?"

Our eyes locked, the fire and fury of earlier melting and simmering into a different kind of heat. "Nope, but I sure as hell love it," I reassured her in a sandpaper tone. "Babe, all you gotta do is breathe..."

And that was the gospel truth.

For a moment, we stared at each other as the full impact of our misunderstanding washed over us. How the hell we'd missed each other's signals in this way was ludicrous. But I didn't have time to think of it because, without warning, she tackled me. She leapt and my arms barely caught her as she knocked me over onto my back and my hands were suddenly full of velvet and fur. Body plastering itself to mine, she peppered kisses all over my face and lips, smothering my surprised laughter.

"I thought you didn't want me anymore," she cried.

"I never stopped," I managed to say as my blood pressure skyrocketed, seriously questioning my wife's sanity...not want her? Not possible.

"I was just trying to be patient and wait for your signal that you were ready," I mumbled around frantic kisses.

"Is this signal enough?" She purred, grinding down on my groin and lips sucking at my neck as I groaned. My hands clutched at her madly, racing over her trying to find skin, swooping down to the tiny skirt and digging my way through billions of lacy white stuff to get to her. Jesus Christ...how many damn layers were there. Fuck. And then...finally...my hands found her ass and I squeezed.

Hard. Yes...

We both moaned, way more worked up than we normally would be over such little skin to skin contact. But...twelve weeks...three...

"Baby, you about gave me a heart attack when I walked in that door," I muttered, kissing her jaw, moulding her luscious ass as we strained to get closer.

"Honey, can you just...please..." Breathless, her hands tried pushing my coat off my shoulders, an impossible task in our current position and she gave up quickly and attacked my shirt buttons with frantic fingers instead. Need was thundering through my body painfully, muscle and sinew clenched and throbbing, screaming hurry hurry... But...

"Wait," I said through gritted teeth. I had to be sure.

"What?" she moaned in frustration, hands diving into my half open shirt and mouth latching onto my jawline. Hissing as pleasure rolled down my back at the touch of her lips, I smashed my mouth to hers in a brief kiss before pulling back a bit. Her face above mine, flushed with rioting passion, her hair curtaining around us and heated eyes dilated almost black, she was so gorgeous. And somehow that gigantic fur hat was still miraculously stuck on her head. Our eyes met and clung.

"You're sure? Coz I don't think I can last a long time," I admitted with not an ounce of embarrassment.

"Neither can I. Just hurry up and do me!" She cried out breathlessly and with a giant surge, I flipped her over onto her back. My heart raced as relief, joy, love and lust surged through every muscle and sinew and my mouth fell on hers like a starving beast.

Yes. Dear God, yes!

Clutching wildly at each other, mouths devouring and tongues plunging hungrily, the heat exploded like an inferno. Hands groped, trying to touch everything at once, squeezing and sliding as we both moaned and strained, pushing and grinding in frantic need to get closer, closer. Her hands ripped at my jeans, clumsily unbuckling the belt with shaking hands as my own searched hastily for something resembling a zipper in this velvet and fur concoction she wore. But it was taking more than three seconds and I lost patience.

I needed her now.

My hands dove back under the frilly petticoat stuff and clasped her rounded butt, squeezing the lush flesh for a moment before one hand shoved it's way under her white lace panties and found her burning hot centre. Her silky skin was slick with excitement and my mouth swallowed the throaty groan that spilled from her as my fingers sunk briefly inside, ensuring she was ready because neither one of us could wait any longer. Sliding my scorched fingers out, I grasped the teeny crotch of her panties and ripped, groaning in thrilled pleasure at the sound. Frantically, my hands joined hers, scrambling to release me; shoving denim and cotton aside just enough to give my throbbing cock space. She threw her legs up high around my waist as I lined up and thrust inside hard and fast, our engorged flesh sending lightening streaks of intense heat sizzling through my body. Catherine screamed into my silencing kiss as we froze for a moment in shocked pleasure. I grunted.

Christ, I'd missed my wife.

With a deep shudder I began moving, Catherine thrusting upwards in unison and we didn't even try to slow the pace - it'd been too damn long. Within seconds, the slap of our hips battled for supremacy with our groans and breathless mutterings, our need deeply carnal.

Hitching her legs higher up my back and intensifying the angle, some dormant sense reached through my bliss, warning me and I thrust one arm out just in time to stop the Christmas tree from toppling onto us, my hand catching the rough trunk. A shower of pine needles, tinsel and baubles fell all around us as we stilled for a micro second, meeting each other's eyes before looking up at the wobbly tree. She giggled breathlessly, I smirked and pushed the trunk upright, diving right back into my urgent pace and totally ignoring the bauble that bounced off my bare ass.

Driving into her hard and fast, elbows on the timber floor, Catherine's hands plunged under my open shirt and jacket to dig her nails into my back, her folds beginning that familiar flutter as she groaned, demanding brokenly: "Yes, more...please..."

Her desperate need fueled mine like gas thrown on a blazing fire. I snapped; my control pushed beyond limits and I pounded into her two, three times more till her core spasmed around me with viscous delight and I exploded, my cock throbbing painfully within her grasping wet flesh. Every nerve and muscle I owned burst into glorious sizzling pleasure, the shocking intensity scouring through my body like talons on a blackboard: my back arched, my neck arched and I barely managed to clamp my hand onto Catherine's mouth as she screamed loudly.

Yes!

Ohhh, God, yes... blissful release that throbbed achingly through our bodies, wave upon wave of sheer satisfaction obliterating our senses.

I collapsed onto her, completely drained of strength and we lay in a tumbled half-clothed mess, my breath heaving into her neck, hers panting in my ear. Trembling and shaking in the aftermath, the ecstasy incomparable and so missed, we held tight to each other as my eyes closed - damn, but I'd missed my wife.

We lay unmoving for what seemed like hours, our bodies cooling gradually, regaining our breath and wallowing in the closeness. Her legs slid down from my back lazily and her hands smoothed over my hair. Contentment washed over me, rippling down my spine like warm water. To be in Catherine's arms, enfolded within her lithe and luscious body was my favourite place to be. I could stay in this position forever. I think I might have done just exactly that if it wasn't for one small problem - I wanted her again.

Now. Right Now.

I'd only partially subsided and as I began a light thrust and grind, she pulled my head back to meet my eyes in delighted surprise, moaning as I hardened inside her, lengthening and stretching her once more. Normally I needed a little bit of recovery time in between bouts of making love but not tonight. It'd been far too long and my need for her was all consuming.

Always was, always will be.

I gave her a half smile before leaning down to take her mouth again, sweeping inside with a glide of my tongue to tangle and dance with hers. Her arms tightened around me, hips circling sensually as her flesh slid hot and silky against my turgid thickness. Every slow wet slide was savoured as this time we moved with patient love, content to let the heat simmer as we revelled in being together again, caressing and loving in long strokes.

But I couldn't reach enough skin with her locked into this red and white tease-fest so I rolled onto my back, keeping us connected with my hands clasped around her hips until she was seated tightly, knees spread over my hips and that damn hat still perched sassily on her dark hair. My hands explored as she circled her hips in deep slow thrusts but I still couldn't find the zipper – where the hell was that thing? Giving up again, I reached for the edge of the strapless top, pulling it down until her breasts popped free and she pressed them to my chest, the skin to skin contact eliciting sighs from us both.

We took our time loving. Slow kisses, languid long strokes of caressing fingers and whispered words of love. With her top pulled down and skirt hitched up, her beautiful skin rubbed sensually against mine as she slid her mouth down my neck, nibbling and tasting till she reached my pecs. Shivers whispered over my skin as her warm breath enveloped one nipple, her tongue licking like a cat at a saucer. Groaning, my hands slid to her tits, cupping the exquisite fullness carefully with my large hands, knowing how sensitive she'd be and she moaned huskily, undulating with a sexy roll of her slim hips.

She pulled up till she sat straight on my groin, taking me in deeper, deeper as she pressed her hands against the back of mine, silently demanding more. My breath caught harshly at the picture she made: long dark hair tumbled under that engineering-marvel of a hat, face flushed and eyes closed as her teeth bit into her lower lip; torso bare and beautiful above the red and white frothiness of her skirt as she rode me smoothly, expertly. My hands moulded her; thumbs running over her tight nipples carefully, their darkness fascinating and luscious. I strummed her, flicked her, circling the areoles and with each touch her pleasure deepened, her face tightening in sheer bliss.

Goddamn, I loved how responsive she was.

I tweaked her gently, pinching ever so slightly and she threw her head back in a deep groan, grinding down on my cock with exquisite friction and taking my breath away. Our pace began climbing as need rose, her beautiful eyes locked to mine as we watched each other, the black of her dilated pupils almost overtaking the green. One hand reached behind to clutch my thigh for balance, the other pressing mine tighter to her full breast, encouraging a rougher touch as her hips thrust faster, harder and despite the fact that I'd come not long ago, the burn of release was building in the pit of my clenched belly. Deepening my strokes and feeling the quiver of her slick walls against my aching flesh, I grit my teeth to hold onto control. Sliding my hands out from under hers, I cupped her fingers around her heaving breasts, my heartbeat thundering as she took over, caressing and squeezing her silky skin, small slim fingers pinching the tight bud as she pleasured herself. Fire raced through my veins as I hurriedly grabbed her skirt and shoved some of it into the balled up edges of her top, my other hand holding the voluminous stuff out of my way so I could see. Growling wildly, I watched my flesh sink into hers, over and over, her body engulfing mine with carnal beauty.

Christ Almighty...

With her torn lace panties circling her slim hips, smooth thighs spread wide over my thrusting hips and the tops of her sexy black boots pressing into my sides, she was pushing my control beyond its limits and I needed her to come. With my free hand, I reached for her sweet pussy, rubbing her stretched lips for a quick moment before I ran my thumb over her clit and she shuddered, head falling back in delight.

"Come for me, baby" I muttered, my voice as smooth as sandpaper. I couldn't let go until she did and damn, my body was burning, heartbeat thundering as I held on. Flicking and circling , I tortured the slick little nub of flesh mercilessly, pushing her, driving her relentlessly to climax as I drowned in the sexual goddess that she was.

Oh God, baby, hurry, hurry...I can't hold on much more.

She heard my silent plea and with a sudden fierce contraction, she came hard; her inner muscles clamping down and milking my pulsating shaft, sending screaming pleasure through every sinew and nerve. With a final thrust, I froze, coming in great throbbing bursts, the burn of her fluttering core an exquisite pain. Groans strangled in our throats at the beautiful release. Trembling, she collapsed against my chest and with her wrapped in my arms, we lay there once again in exhausted satisfaction, fine shimmers chasing over our heated skin.

I couldn't move.

I wasn't gonna move.

For hours.

Maybe three.

I sighed in supreme contentment. My knees were weak, heart rate still rattling my chest but my soul was rejuvenated - I loved making love with Catherine.

Long, long minutes later, into the quiet and lazy silence came a sudden cry. Dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head, I rolled her onto her back. "Stay here," I told her.

Jumping up, I hitched my jeans back up over my ass and zipped up partially, not bothering with my open shirt and jacket. Leaving Catherine resting sleepily under the Christmas tree, I made my way down the corridor to where the cries were gaining in volume and demand. Opening the door to the dark room, I knew I probably shouldn't but damnit, I hadn't seen her for most of the day and with eager hands, I reached out and gently picked up the squirming crying bundle of sweetness that was my daughter.

Billie.

Cradling her against my chest, against my skin, my heart turned over and swelled with the purest of love. Her cries and tears ripped at my insides cruelly and I crooned to her quietly: "Shhhh, shhhhh. It's okay, baby. Daddy's here. S'okay." Resting my cheek against the fine dark hair atop her small head, I held her securely, soothing until her cries began subsiding and her squirming abated. "S'okay, honey. Daddy's got you."

The light from the open door guided me to her rocking chair and I lowered myself carefully into it. Legs sprawled, jeans half zipped and belt loose, I cuddled my baby daughter against my naked chest and whispered to her as she gradually calmed. God, she smelled so good.

My heart overflowed with a love like I'd never known. Billie Danielle Keller/Koslow, born on the last day of September, an unexpected miracle: my very own little angel sent from heaven.

Christ, I still couldn't quite believe that she was really here. Pink and gorgeous and healthy.

A shudder rolled down my back as I recalled those terrifying days and weeks when we'd discovered Catherine was pregnant. We'd still been living our peaceful life in Paris and Catherine had started feeling ill and tired. Worried, I'd made her go to the doctor and have a bunch of tests done, not even slightly thinking of a possible pregnancy as she'd been on birth control for years and we'd always been very careful. It'd never failed before so why would it now?

Only it had. She'd had a bad bout of flu a couple of months before and the medication apparently interfered with her pill. As a doctor, I'd known there was a slight chance of that occurring so we hadn't made love while she was on the flu meds. She'd had colds before, taken meds before and hadn't fallen pregnant. And we'd been careful those times too. But apparently not careful enough that last time, as the doctor had pointed out. She was definitely pregnant and about 8 weeks along.

Our world had come crashing down. Wild panic and sheer terror as the full horrifying possibilities of what could happen had ripped through us both. The unmitigated fear of what this child could be - overwhelming and gut wrenching. Would it be a monster like me? Would it be some awful mutation? What if my DNA caused disabilities beyond what anyone could imagine? I'd been sick to my stomach with the horror of what I had allowed to occur. I was a doctor for God's sake – I should have been more careful. Instead I was risking my wife's life and that of an innocent child who didn't deserve to be brought into the world to live a life in shadows as I had done for more than a decade. The fact that Catherine nor I would even consider a termination not conducive to lessening stress. We couldn't do that - yet we didn't know what the risks could be. And I wasn't risking Catherine's life. Ever. If the worst kind of decisions had to be made, then we'd make them but not at the expense of her health.

She had decided, after the initial shock had worn off, that our child was going to be okay. That she would be okay and so would the baby. She'd tried desperately to convince me that the baby wouldn't be born mutated; that because I'd been taking the pills that JT had concocted a few years before, the baby would be normal. Or even if it had a small dose of beast DNA, it wouldn't be like I was.

Because even I wasn't as I was. Not anymore.

I hadn't beasted out for a few years at that stage, not once. And while it was true that I'd also been taking the meds for a similar timeframe, there was no guarantee I'd been beast-free because of them. What if it was because we'd been living a quiet normal life, the way I'd always wanted? What if that was the reason? Or what if it was because we'd promised each other to stay out of dangerous situations – that we'd fought too long and hard to risk it all again in France? Those reasons were powerful enough to stop me beasting out. Maybe that was why and not JT's pills, I'd argued.

She'd given me a harsh look and ripped me a good one for doubting JT's abilities, for not having faith in him. Which I'd denied of course, because that was bull. But Jesus Christ...a baby?

Nothing terrified me more than the thought of losing Catherine. Nothing.

I'd been beside myself. I'd frantically called JT with the news and he'd swung into action. He, Tess, Heather, Aaron and Dana. All of them working overtime to calm me the fuck down so that I didn't cause Catherine any extra worry. Between them, they'd managed to get us new identities and backgrounds, passage to Canada and a safe house – this one. An investment property that Dana's now deceased lunatic husband had left her. She claimed it was poetic justice for her to transfer the title into our names and it was a fait accompli before I'd even known about it. JT had found us a discreet ob-gyn doctor who hadn't questioned the barrage of testing we had done the minute we landed in Toronto or the frequency of unusual scans, x-rays and blood work that Catherine was routinely subjected to. Dana's FBI presence during that first visit had convinced him of the need for discretion.

My beautiful brave wife – she was constantly reassuring all of us that she was fine, the baby would be fine, especially Heather who was sick with worry for her sister. We all were and we all tried like hell to hide it. However, I knew her well – I could see the latent fear at the back of her eyes and it took everything I had to be strong and supportive but I was a fucking mess.

Waiting for test results had been a living nightmare, on repeat, and there'd been many a night where I'd held my sleeping wife so tightly: afraid to let go, afraid to let her see the true depth of my fear. One that shook my hands relentlessly and had me waking in terror from restless dreams. Even the amniocentesis hadn't eased my worry, despite an all clear on the DNA status – no Down's Syndrome but also no other abnormalities.

What if it was latent, I'd questioned.

All my medical training, all my trust in JT's abilities – none of that meant a thing; knowledge tossed out the window as I drowned in expectant father worries – ramped up ten thousand degrees. Not until the day she'd been born and the doctors handed us a healthy little girl, all 8 pounds 10 ounces of squalling perfection.

That moment when I'd held her for the first time; looking into her dark eyes and falling in love...that was a moment never to be forgotten. We'd cried and laughed, Catherine and I; the relief soul shattering and the love boundless. I'd thought nothing could compare to my love for Catherine but I'd been wrong.

The love I had for my daughter – it shook me to the bone sometimes, hitching my breath with the pure and instinctive protectiveness that surged through my whole being. I'd learned in that hospital delivery room cutting the cord, that seven hellish months of fear were now traded for a new kind – the lifetime of fear that a father feels for his child. This tiny, delicate angel had more power over me than I could comprehend. She wrapped my heart and soul around her tiny finger with her first breath and I was such a goner. You'd think if you loved your wife with all your heart, there'd be no more room for anyone else. But that was wrong.

You loved more. You loved greater and you loved deeper.

We'd named her Billie Danielle after my brothers, a suggestion that had nearly reduced me to a blubbering mess when Catherine had said it. I'd had to hide my face in her neck to steady myself as we hadn't dared to choose names during the pregnancy, resisting because...God forbid the worst happened.

But it hadn't. Somehow, I'd been granted a second miracle in my life. First Catherine and now my baby girl.

Her newborn smell was as addictive as catnip to a kitten. I loved that smell so much – innocence and talc all mixed into one heavenly, pure scent. My huge hands had initially been so afraid to damage her, as fragile as she was and it had taken awhile to get my confidence in handling her. But now I was a pro and I patted her pink-onesied butt comfortingly, rubbing her little back gently till she quieted to the occasional whimper.

For such a tiny thing, she'd unfortunately caused my wife some tearing, which meant stitches which caused me to wince every time I thought about it.

JT had said I'd looked as white as a ghost when I'd walked into the waiting room to tell the gathering of nervous and excited people there that I had a daughter and she was perfect. Amidst all the cheering and crying, hugs and back slaps I'd turned green, according to a laughing JT, as I relayed the news that Catherine was okay but needed stitches. I could take the teasing though – he and Tess and Heather couldn't hide their own sympathetic wince, turning a tad green themselves.

Aaron hadn't been able to make it up for the birth but he was coming to stay with us for a week along with the rest of them. I smirked as I thought of how spoiled Billie was going to be on her first Christmas with all her uncles and aunts in one place to fuss over her.

I might have to fight to have any time with my baby, I realised suddenly with a disgruntled frown. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea to have them all here at once? One or two of them I could defeat easily when it came to hogging my daughter but four of them? I clutched her a little tighter.

Maybe I could set up a roster?

Hmmm, I'd need to think about this.

Aaron and I had gotten to know each other over the last few years – rebuilt our nephew-uncle relationship bit by bit via a couple of visits to Paris, lots of phone calls and countless Skype sessions. He was IT as far as I was concerned - my last relative because Hank the Asshole didn't count. We still hadn't told him about my now dormant beast side, though. Maybe we'd never have to? Gotta admit that the more time went by without a beast incident, the more hopeful I became. Aaron still thought we were in witness protection and the only reason he was allowed contact with us was through special request to the FBI; specifically, our connection to Dana.

How we got away with his believing that is pure luck because that boy wasn't a dummy. He still worked for the FDNY, was smart and brashly confident, kind and brave. Temperamental for sure but his heart was huge and he had a hero mentality.

I smirked.

Yeah, like all the Keller boys had.

Remembering the time a couple of years back when he'd gone and punched out Kyle the Snake, I almost laughed aloud but managed to stop myself before I disturbed an almost fully asleep Billie.

That had been pure gold.

Heather had been heartbroken and confided in her sister that she'd caught Kyle cheating and once we'd heard the story, we'd been hard pressed to not jump on a plane and beat the living shit out of him. That limp-dicked weasel had never been good enough for Heather, in my eyes. Catherine had been ropable.

I'd called JT, he'd called Aaron and the two of them had hunted down the slimy little cockroach, hell-bent on avenging Heather's honour. Apparently they'd found him on shift at the hospital having just delivered a patient and Aaron had stormed over and punched him out so hard he'd gone flying, crashing into an empty trolley and causing one hell of a racket, right there in the crowded waiting area. Yelling loud enough for the whole hospital to hear, Aaron had told him that was for being a bastard cheater and not one person had come to help the snake get up off the floor. Instead he was left to drag his sorry ass up alone, bleeding nose and all, only to have JT take a swing, yelling "that one was for Heather". He'd spun like a damn top before falling a second time, this time out cold.

Pure gold and so satisfying - I couldn't clock the bastard myself but my boys had done it for me. And for Heather and Catherine.

Recounting the story to us later, they were full of praise for each other's heroics, boasting of strutting out of the hospital "like a boss" amidst a stunned emergency room full of people.

Gold.

How I wished I could have witnessed it, I sighed to myself.

With Heather so far away, it was a relief to my wife that her little sister had such protective men looking out for her. Mind you, I thought with a frown, there had been something about the last time I'd seen Heather and Aaron together during their last visit to Paris. Something I wasn't completely sure of. There was this odd vibe between them – an awareness. It wasn't like they were flirting or anything but there was definitely something. When I'd mentioned it to Catherine, she'd said she hadn't really noticed and I was probably imagining it.

Maybe.

Maybe not. I'd just watch and see, I decided, not quite sure how I'd feel if my nephew had a thing for my sister-in-law. I mean – is that even allowed? I frowned as I thought about the logistics there but it was too confusing and I put it aside.

Pulling back to look down at my baby daughter, I could see she was fast asleep. Her dark eyelashes rested on the plumb roundness of her pink cheeks, little bow mouth pursed sweetly. Chubby little fingers curled into tiny fists rested against my chest so delicately, squeezing at my heart. There were times when she held onto my finger with her itty bitty hand and it was all I could do to not beat my chest like some Neanderthal warrior – I was her protector, her saviour, her Daddy. No harm would ever befall her; I'd make sure of that. I'd slay all her dragons for her yet she weakened my knees with just one baby gurgle.

Getting up carefully so I didn't jostle her awake, I pressed a kiss gently to her head then set her down in the crib, tucking her arms in under the buttery yellow blanket and she immediately wiggled them out and lay them above her head in a surrender position.

Always, I laughed to myself quietly. Without fail, my baby had to have both her arms up. Didn't matter how you lay her down: Boom - up they came. Fricken adorable.

I smiled softly at her, leaning an elbow on the crib rail to just watch her a moment. I'd never really paid much attention to babies before but I was now fully aware that my daughter was extraordinarily beautiful – dark soft tufts of fine hair, rosy cheeks, cupid bow mouth and the cutest little nose you ever saw. Dark eyes just starting to show flecks of green and a tiny bit of gold. I had a feeling they would end up more like Catherine's gorgeous eyes than my hazel ones. In which case, I was a goner. I'd have two green-gold eyed beauties on my hands – God help me. It was bad enough with Catherine, but with Billie – I was outnumbered. I didn't care however; I figured it was okay while she was a baby and I had a few years to practice getting tough.

I'm sure I'd have it down pat soon.

Unable to resist, I reached out and traced the soft curve of her cheek, the delicate warm skin silky and soft against my rough hands and my chest overflowed with love. I didn't know if I was being repaid for the years of miserable loneliness and horror Pre-Catherine but I sure as hell was a lucky man.

With a last loving look, I left the room quietly, pulling the door closed but not shutting it. When I stepped back into the living area, there was my Number One Beauty, still sprawled under the Christmas tree like some incredible worlds-best gift. She'd pulled the top of her dress back over her breasts sadly – no matter, I'd just remove it again. Ironically she lay with her arms up over her head too, just like our daughter, only far, far less innocent. She looked supremely satisfied – a lazy cat wallowing in decadent sexual bliss.

Opening slumberous eyes to meet mine, she smiled lazily. "She okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," I said huskily, overwhelmed with the pure love and happiness that washed through my blood. God...how did I get so lucky?

Catherine rolled over to her side and struck a saucy pose, smiling teasingly at me as she flicked the fluffy pom-pom of her Santa hat over her shoulder in a seductive way.

I laughed at her, delighted and amused.

"See," I said as I walked over to her. "You had the chance to pose under the tree after all."

Eyes sparkling, she giggled softly and I crouched down in front of her, sweeping my gaze over the sexy picture she made.

"That's one hell of an outfit, Mrs Koslow." Voice rough with sheer appreciation, my eyes hooked into hers and melted with the heat simmering inside, embers sparking anew.

"You like?" she asked, huskiness creeping into her tone.

"I love..." I rumbled and the air thickened – a tumbled mix of love and lust that was as inherently familiar to us as breathing.

"Walk or catch a ride?" I asked.

"Ride, please," she answered in a little ritual that we played out often. She sat up and held out her arms to me like a toddler and I leaned down and scooped her up, her legs circling my hips, arms around my neck as she caught her favourite ride.

Wrapping her up tightly, I nuzzled her neck as I walked her to our bedroom, muttering against her skin: "What time do we have to pick up Tess and JT?"

Tilting her head back for better access, she sighed in soft pleasure as I kissed her long throat.

"Hmmm, they land at 6pm..."

"Perfect." I whispered in, reaching out with one hand to push the door open. "Cause you and I have 12 weeks, three days and something hours to make up for and it's gonna be a long night."

Hell yeah, it was.

"You realise Billie will be awake at 7am?' she moaned a little as I nipped her ear with the edge of my teeth.

Pfft. As if that was an issue.

"So will we," I reassured. "But we'll nap when she does".

And I closed the door with my boot.

The End.