So here it is, my first Last Tango story. I've tried hard to get the way they talk right, but it's difficult. So forgive any errors. This story popped into my head after the first episode and I've been slowly working on it ever since. I hope you enjoy.

Celia sat watching Alan sleep, her hand resting over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm against her palm. It was their first night together since he'd been released from the hospital, and the first time she'd been completely alone where he couldn't see the tears that now wet her cheeks. She hadn't let herself cry before now because she couldn't take the chance someone, Alan most especially, might see her.

She knew that she'd broken his heart, knew that all of this was because of her. Now here she sat, her own heart breaking as the consultant's words kept swirling round in her head. Alan, her beloved Mr. Buttershaw, wouldn't survive another attack.

She'd only just found him again. The thought that at any moment she could lose him, was nearly more than she could stand. She'd always been a strong woman, she'd had to be, but losing Alan a second time might well be her undoing.

She loved Alan more than she'd ever loved anyone, always had. She'd confessed to him that she'd thought of him, imagined it was him touching her instead of Kenneth. It had been the only way for her to make it through, especially after she'd learned of her husband's first affair.

She closed her eyes, her tears falling faster and harder now. She'd come so close, so very close to losing him and the happiness he brought to her. Happiness she'd never really had in her life since that day over sixty years ago when he'd first asked her to meet him.

Alan heard a noise and woke, his eyes settling on Celia. As he watched her, he realized that the sound he'd heard was her trying to stifle a sob. He knew she'd been holding everything in, his Celia, but he never realized it was hurting her this much. He concentrated on keeping his breathing even so that she wouldn't suspect that he was awake, knowing that she wouldn't want him to see her in such a state. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, to caress her hair, to tell her it was alright. He was alright. That he loved her. That it was just as much his fault as it was anyone's for not taking better care to take his medicine as he was supposed to. Feeling Celia move, he closed his eyes and hoped she believed he was still asleep.

Celia wiped at her eyes, taking one last look at Alan before moving to get a tissue and blow her nose. Staring at herself in the mirror of the bathroom, she shook her head, thankful that Alan wouldn't see her like this. Her eyes were puffy and red and her nose, she rolled her eyes. Heavens! She looked like that damned reindeer!

Sighing, she flipped the light off then made her way back to bed. Settling carefully on her side, she lay still, wishing she could be in Alan's arms because she felt safe, loved, and warm there.

Alan heard her sniffing, felt the bed move when she stifled a sob, and gave up pretending to be asleep. He couldn't let her continue to cry on her own. She wasn't alone anymore, and he wanted her to know that it was alright for her to cry in front of him, that he wouldn't think any less of her for her tears.

Feeling movement beside her, Celia blinked in surprise when she felt the warmth of Alan's body pressing against her as he spooned his body to hers, his arm sliding over her waist, hand resting lightly on her stomach.

Nuzzling his face into her hair, Alan pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you," he whispered. "My Celia."

Celia shivered at his breath against her neck as he pressed a kiss to her ear. Cupping her hand around his, she pulled his arm tighter around her, knowing that he'd heard her crying. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Shh." Alan hushed her and pulled her closer. "It's nowt, Celia. I'm here."

"But at any moment you could be taken away," she whispered.

"I'm A-one."

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. "Don't, please, we both know."

"I'm A-one, Celia. What consultant said, it were rubbish."

"Please, Alan." Celia nearly begged. She didn't want him to keep denying it. It did neither of them any good.

"It were rubbish," he repeated. "He didn't have all of truth."

"Truth?"

Alan nuzzled the back of her neck. "You, Celia. You."

Tears fell against her pillow, her lips trembling. She didn't deserve a man like Alan. He was so very kind hearted, she wondered how he could love a woman as sharp tongued as she. His love for her made her love him all the more. "I love you," she breathed.

Alan heard the hitch in her voice and pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you," he returned. He did love her. He'd never loved anyone the way he loves Celia. If he'd loved Eileen as much, he wouldn't have thought of another woman when they were together. He never thought of anyone else when he was holding Celia's hand, her body, or when he was making love to her. She filled his thoughts, waking or otherwise.

He remembered the night he'd had his heart attack. He'd died, he knew that, but he'd been with Celia. He'd gone to say how sorry he was. That he should have been more patient with her and stayed to help her see that it were okay; Caroline and Kate. They'd brought him back before he'd been able to do anything but see her coming in the door, calling his name. Her sweet voice talking softly to him, telling him how she'd fixed things with Caroline and Kate, how he needed to wake up so she could fix things between them. The warmth of her hand holding his, caressing his face, had helped to drag him up from the deep sleep he'd slipped into because he'd had no reason to come back.

Gently tugging her, Alan smiled when Celia rolled over to face him, her tears glittering in the bit of moonlight that spilled into their bedroom. Reaching up, he tenderly wiped them away. "No more," he whispered before leaning forward and kissing her.

Her fingers gently combing through his hair as she moved her hand to cradle his head, Celia sighed into the kiss, loving the way his lips on hers made her feel. No man had ever made her feel like this with just a simple kiss. She shivered when she thought of the way Alan made her feel when he touched her. Pulling out of the kiss, she snuggled against him, his heart beating against her ear in a steady, gentle rhythm that soothed her chaotic thoughts and calmed her.

Alan felt Celia relax and calm against him. Pressing a kiss to her head, he tenderly caressed a hand over her mussed hair. "Can you sleep now?"

"Hold me?"

Alan nodded. "All night."

"Yes, then," she answered, her voice soft.

Alan rubbed her back in soothing circles, feeling her breathing begin to even out. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. He should have known everything would come pouring out of her in the dark where no one could see. She was a strong, stubborn woman, his Celia, but she'd had to be. He damned her husband for the way he'd mistreated her. How could a man cheat on a woman as beautiful as Celia? Even if she was sharp tongued at times, she was honest, something a lot of women weren't.

As he slipped into sleep, Alan made a silent promise to the woman in his arms. He'd not let her cry in the dark alone anymore. He'd always be here, no matter.

No matter.