An: Firstly, a warning: there are a fair few sex references in this, though not quite explicit enough to be an M (I think). If you disagree let me know, I can change the rating. Secondly, enjoy.

Bruises from Last Night

When he awoke, light was streaming through the window, and he winced, turning over, so that his bare back was facing the light. He groaned as he realised that he hurt, hurt a lot, but he found he was far too tired to actually sit up and check his body for bruises.

"Don't go back to sleep." His wife's voice crept into his ear from behind him, but he harrumphed and kept his eyes closed. "We've got to be at my parents in one hour."

He murmured something that may or may not have been insulting her, her parents and their entire family tree, and pulled the sheet tighter around him.

He felt a kiss on his shoulder, which was enough to make him turn over and open his eyes. "Mornin'" His voice was rough, and he coughed to try and shake the rasp.

"Hey." She reached down to place a kiss on his lips.

"What did I do to deserve this?" he queried.

"Nothing." She shrugged, "You never do."

He frowned. "I thought last night was pretty good." He reached up to run a thumb across her cheekbone. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Of course I did." She stood up and he could see that she was already dressed. "I always do." She turned away and sat down in front of her dressing table reaching for the hairbrush. "But you don't deserve me."

He sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. "I know." He watched her brushing her hair for a minute or two, before continuing. "I'm not convinced I deserve anyone."

His wife turned to raise an eyebrow. "Self pity? Contrition doesn't suit you."

He laughed, stepping out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the cold floor. He crossed the room to sit behind her, straddling the stool. "I know." He dipped his head to kiss her neck. "But it might convince you to recreate last night."

It was her turn to laugh, handing him a necklace, before holding up her hair. "I don't think so. We've got an hour, and I know how long it takes you to get ready."

He did up the clasp of the pendant, sliding his arms around her waist. "I'll be quick," he murmured.

"Darling, it takes you twenty minutes just to shave," she replied, checking her makeup in the large mirror.

He watched her, not releasing his grip on her. "That's not what I meant."

"I know." She turned to plant a kiss on his cheek. "If you're very good, there are plenty of cupboards at my parents."

He sighed, standing up, pulling his pyjama bottoms up slightly. "Last time we did that your sister almost walked in us."

She grinned at him. "That's half the fun."

Fin