A/N: Fancatt & IMustHaveSaidItWrong guessed it we have Air. Also I hope Lavender and Hay is doing well!
The summer had given way to autumn, the leaves had foregone their customary green to display dazzling golds, oranges and reds. These colors seemed to be bright in defiance before falling to the ground. The skeletal bare limbs seemed to be clutching at the last remnants of light. The days were short, darkness consumed more hours of the day.
Doctor Richard Clarkson pulled on his overcoat and took care to secure his scarf around his neck. His right hand pressed firmly on the top of his hat to settle it more fully on his head. The side door to the hospital was opened and he stepped down onto the cobblestone walkway. As he exhaled his breath swirled around him a visible reminder of winter. The air around him was cold and dry. It burned his lungs as his inhaled his gloved hand gripped his bag tighter. The cuff of his jacket hadn't been pulled down all the way and the cold air assaulted his wrist.
To escape the cold swiftly meant moving quicker however, that had the unintended side effect forcing the menacing air into his eyes making them water in retaliation. The cottage wasn't far and he strode towards his with his head bowed slightly in respect to the winter air.
Inside the cottage the fire was lit and he smiled for it mean Isobel was here. For the past few nights she had been up at the Abbey. He hung up his overcoat and jacket and out of habit rolled up his sleeves. He took a few moments in front of the fire to warm his hands before he went in search of his love. The kitchen was dark, as was the bedroom leaving one place for her to be. The light from the bathroom made the illuminated the straight edges of the door. He pushed it open and was once again met by air. This time instead of the dry cold air of a winter's night it was warm and wet. Isobel liked her baths to be hot, he had watched as she drew them. He had been amazed watching the porcelain basin form a cloud of steam which then expanded into the bathroom itself.
She hadn't heard him come in and he quickly closed the door behind him to trap in the warm wet air. He could hear the water droplets return to main source, most likely from Isobel's hand breaching the surface with a bar of soap to wash an arm or perhaps her chest. His entrance into the bathroom allowed some of the drier air to mix in and had unfogged the lower portion of the oval mirror hanging over the basin Richard used to shave in the mornings. The mirror allowed him to view her body. Isobel was not shy but he had never really seen her like this. Natural, unaware of anyone watching. As the bar of soap glided over her forearm it was effortless, no stage fright. She sighed in what sounded like discontent as loud slosh and squeak announced she was moving. In the mirror he watched as a knee broke the surface of the water and the bar of soap glided down her shin to the top of her foot.
Legs! Richard Clarkson was a leg man. Some men preferred breasts, others the bum but with Richard Clarkson it was the legs! He thought she had fabulous legs more so when they were wrapped around his back! The only other time he had covertly watched her for her legs was once in the morning. He had watched transfixed as she walked to a chair before placing a foot on the seat cushion. She then pointed the toes on that foot as if she were a prima ballerina in the Bolshoi. As the stockings were unfurled up her legs he had ached to touch her.
As the bar of soap came behind her calf he decided he had had enough. He came to the side of the tub in a single stride. Isobel noticed him and yelped in surprise. The shock of him being so close to her had her hand clenching tightly causing the bar of soap to soar upwards and then plummet into the tub. "You gave me a fright!" She screeched before she looked at his eyes. Those blue orbs told her many things, the first was that she had been missed and the second that she was wanted.
She leaned back against the tub and watched as his hand plunged into the tub expertly finding an ankle. His other hand joined the first and he began massaging her leg. Isobel moaned in gratitude, the last few nights at the Abbey had seen her wearing her black heels and how she hated those shoes. His practiced hands kneaded her calf before moving behind her knee and up. When the first leg was done he began on the other again starting at the calf. The soap had made the water soft and the sensation was wonderful. When Richard neared her thigh he didn't stop he kept moving steadily upward. Isobel's eyes flew open.
"Let me." He urged.
She returned to her original position as his finger began making small circular patterns. While the pattern was uniform the speed was not, lazy circles followed randomly with quick orbits had her writhing. Water sloshed out of the tub soaking Richard's trousers but he didn't notice. Isobel's foot bumped a tap and hot water once again began to fill the tub. Isobel cried out in pleasure as his fingers fell into a rhythm. Steam was once again beginning to rise, the air around them becoming thick, warm and wet. The mirror fogged over completely, it was as if the air had sealed them in so no one save for Richard would see Isobel come undone.
Her wail was loud in the small space of the bathroom and Richard savored it. He slowed his hand allowing her to float down. When she came back to him her wet hands fisted his shirt front and pulled him towards her. Their lips met, two lovers encased in the warm, wet air.
