An: Inspired by Tangerinefields' Saturdays at Sainsburys, this is set early in James and Lily's marriage. It's part of genre me and Tangerinefields are calling adult fluff, which means it's all fluffy and cute, but there's a couple of adult ideas in there. Kinda. Anyways, enjoy.

Magic in Her Smile

She laughed, running a finger round the rim of her wine glass. "Sounds like an excellent story."

He ran a hand through his permanently messy hair. "It was hilarious. You should have seen Gideon's face." He was leaning against the cupboards and he now folded his arms. ""And anyway, I cooked. You should be falling into my arms. Not laughing at stories about Gideon Prewett."

She laughed, slowly walking towards him. "Darling, I don't just fall into anyone's arms." She looked up at him from under her lids, and he could see where her eyeliner had smudged slightly. "But I suppose, if you insist, I could make some kind of effort." Abandoning her glass on the counter, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Which would you prefer?" she whispered, as his hands found her waist. "The wide eyed virgin or the knowing woman?"

"Just you," he murmured, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Anything as long as it's you."

A smile lighted up her face. "Silly boy," she told him. "It's always me."

"I love you, you know," he murmured, holding her close for a moment until she pulled away, dancing to the other side of the kitchen.

"You'll get over it," she told him airily, folding a sky-blue T-shirt before dropping it on to the table that dominated the space. "You're not the first person to tell me, and I'm sure you won't be the last."
He laughed at the blasé attitude she had suddenly adopted. "And where are these many lovers?"

"Well, Thursday is your day," she explained, flashing him a grin. "It'd be rude if they turned up today."

He flicked some of the bubbles that were still in the sink after washing up at her. "Are you trying to tell me that you're only faithful on Thursdays?"

"Thursdays and bank holidays," she told him, crossing back over to him so she could pick up her half-drunk glass of wine. "Bank holidays are all yours."

He laughed, the scent of her shampoo making his nose itch. "Thanks. Here I am trying to tell you I love you and you tell me you're sleeping with other men."

She beamed, as the orange glow from the sunset caught her hair, making it look like autumnal leaves on a bonfire. "I love you too James. Now. Do I have to persuade you to come to bed, or will you jump when I whistle?"