The sunlight trickled through the gaps in the curtains, casting a wonderful light across her naked back. He couldn't help but touch her again, pushing her long locks across her back so he could caress her skin. She was just so beautiful, and last night had been… amazing. The contact awakened Molly from her slumber, and she let out a little groan.

"Sorry, Molly. I didn't mean to wake you, I just couldn't help it," Charles said with a soft chuckle.

Molly turned over so she was facing him. "I'll let you off this time," she joked, moving her hand to lay it on his warm chest. "Besides, I could definitely get used to waking up like this."

She'd had the best night sleep she'd had in months. She dreamed a happy dream, free from the usual nightmares of war that plagued her. Maybe it was being wrapped up safe with her love that had something to do with it.

Charles inched forward to place a peck on her lips, which she very much appreciated. However, when he moved to deepen the kiss Molly broke it off, pushing against his chest. He looked at her, confused.

"As gorgeous as you are I ain't gonna snog you with that morning breath!" she exclaimed with a laugh, rolling over to jump out of bed. She sauntered over to the en-suite bathroom, give her former Captain a lovely view of her bare behind.

"I can never win with you," he replied, sitting up and placing his arms behind his head.

"Hey, I have standards now," she teased, poking her head around the bathroom door. "Is it okay for me to use your shower?"

"Of course Molly; you really don't have to ask. I'll go make some breakfast."

Molly shut the door behind her and switched the shower on. As she waited for the water to heat up, she stood in front of the full length mirror. Her lips were swollen from kissing, her dark hair tangled; all the signs of a good night.

Molly stepped under the spray. It was possibly the best shower she'd ever had in her life. Sometimes she couldn't believe she had got the guy – Molly Dawes, the girl with no GCSE's who grew up in a council house ended up with Captain Charles James, the man who came from a very well off family who was educated at Eton and who grew up in a beautiful home. They had grown up in completely different worlds, only brought together by war. Molly smirked to herself at the thought.

She squirted shampoo into the palm of her hand and ran it through her hair. The difference between the two honestly terrified her, and she often worried if, outside of Afghanistan, their relationship could survive. She thought about Charles' words back at the FOB, how it was all down to Lady Luck – where you're born and who you're born to. Luckily Lady Luck had been smiling down on her lately, and Molly sincerely hoped she would continue to.

She enjoyed her shower and certainly took her time. It was nice to not have her siblings or parents yelling at her through the door to hurry up. It was good to have some peace.

Molly left the shower a few minutes later and dried herself off using the towels Charles had laid out for her. She peaked out the door into the room but Charles was nowhere to be seen. She padded over to her bag, clutching the towel tight around her torso. She found some clean underwear in the bottom of the bag and pulled it them on, along with a casual shirt and her jeans from the previous day.

She wandered down the grand staircase, stopping to admire the photos and paintings that adorned the walls. There were many pictures of Charles – mostly in his army gear.

She even found one of her platoon before they were drafted out to Afghan. She was in it. Molly had never seen this photo and she remarked how tiny she actually looked surrounded by all those huge men. She remembered that morning well – she had made a right muppet of herself in front of her new captain. Of course it was all in the past now, but the memory still made her kick herself inside. She decided to move on to the other photos.

A few were from his school years, especially toward the bottom of stairs. Molly stood to look at a picture of a very young Charles standing with who she assumed were his parents in the very picturesque country. The man looked very much like him, but older, with greying hair. He was good looking in an older man George Clooney-esque sort of way. The male side of the family had obviously dominant genes for stunning strong jawlines and dark curly hair. Charles had an adorable cheeky grin plastered on his face, something she couldn't help giggling at.

"Something you find funny?" Charles asked, leaning against the doorway. She smiled at him but didn't respond to his question.

"Are these your parents?" Molly asked, indicating toward the picture.

"Yes," Charles replied, reaching forward to take Molly's hand. "I want them to meet you. Soon."

Molly hesitated, unsure. Charles caught it straight away. "What's wrong?"

"I just… don't know. You know, if they'd like me. I'm guessing I'm not like the other girls," Molly said with a shrug, not meeting his eye.

His hand moved to her chin and tilted it upwards so she was looking at him. "No you're right, you aren't like the other girls; you're a million times better." He paused to place a peck on her lips. "Anyway they'll love you I'm sure. Just like I do."

"Really?"

"Really. Now let's eat some breakfast."


Molly couldn't believe what a fantastic cook Charles was. He'd made eggs and bacon and pancakes and it was all delicious. Molly ate as much as much as she could before slumping back in her chair, defeated.

"I'm never gonna be able to eat the army breakfast ever again after that," Molly announced, jokingly patting her stomach.

"It wasn't that amazing," Charles said with a grin, moving some plates off the island they were sat at. Molly watched him, smiling without even realising. She stood up and moved behind him as he loaded plates into the dishwasher, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his back. He stopped moving and lay the plates on the side.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered softly. He turned around to face her.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're here," he returned, stroking her face. "There was a time, when I was lying in that hospital bed, that I never thought I would ever see you again. Then when I woke up in Birmingham, and you were there… I thought I was hallucinating. I thought to myself there's no way she could be here."

"You were pretty drugged up," Molly said with a laugh. "And I was there. Of course I was there. I was just so scared…"

Her eyes were stinging with tears. She moved away to rub her eyes. She didn't want him to see her upset.

"Shh," he mumbled softly. "It's okay Molly. I'm here now, and I am never going to leave you again. I promise."

He held out his little finger.

"Seriously?" Molly laughed. "A pinky promise? How old are you again?"

"Shut up and do it, Dawes," he replied.

She gave in and wrapped her pinky around his.

"So, what we doing today then?" Molly asked, taking a sip of her brew.

"Well unfortunately I didn't realise you'd be visiting me so soon. I kind of thought you'd be with your family for a few days," he explained as he took a sip of his Rosabaya. "I have a meeting I have to attend to this afternoon about starting work again… but I'm free all this morning. We could go for a walk through the meadows?"

"I don't know about that… trees give me the willies," Molly told him simply. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Trust me, you'll love it."


It had been a lovely morning, Molly had to admit. She had grown up surrounded by ugly grey buildings and council estates, a vast contrast to where Charles had grown up surrounded by green. Maybe one day she'd get used to the countryside.

Molly currently sat in the front room in front of a fireplace, curled up with a brew. Charles said he'd been gone most of the afternoon and early evening, but Molly didn't mind. She had taken advantage of a bit of alone time and had wandered around the house freely, trying to imagine Charles' childhood and his life before the army. She knew Charles was an only child, and he seemed to be his parents pride and honour. Pictures of their grandson, Sam, were scattered around the house. Molly briefly wondered when and if she was going to see him again.

Her phone buzzed next to her and she picked it up, seeing 'Bossman' light up across the screen.

Sorry Molly, things are running late. Will be back much later than I thought. Don't wait up. Love you xox

Molly sighed. She couldn't really get annoyed at him. After all he didn't realise she would be here. It was just a shame they had barely spent any time together. Her mum had been asking her when she was coming home so she could throw her a welcome home party and spend time with her family. Molly had eventually given in and said she'd come home the following day, but now she wished she hadn't.

She yawned and tried to fight the tiredness that overcame her. Her jet lag had finally caught up with her and she felt so exhausted. She always needed a couple of days to set her body clock back to normal.

She decided to busy herself and make dinner for them. In the huge kitchen she searched for ingredients to make something homely – she decided on making a classic cottage pie.

After she had eaten, washed up and cleared the entire kitchen, as well as putting a portion for Charles in the fridge ready to be eaten, Molly made herself comfortable in front of the television with a brew. She flicked through the million channels the James' seemed to have, and decided to settle on Eastenders. Even though he had said not to, she was sure there was no way she would be able to go to sleep without him.

The warm fire and her full belly made her eyes feel heavy and she decided to rest her eyes for just a minute.


Charles looked at the clock on the car as he pulled into his parking spot. It was quarter to midnight. He groaned, annoyed that his meeting had run so late. Some new orders sent down from the MoD required an urgent response, and so he had offered to help some of his colleagues with it – bad mistake. But he couldn't turn down the opportunity to try and impress those above him. It took so long to sort he never even had his meeting about returning full time to training new recruits.

He opened the front door and saw most of the lights were still on. There was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen and he followed it; his stomach grumbled at the thought of food. He'd had nothing but coffee all afternoon. He saw a pile of clean plates and pots and pans on the dryer, a sight he thought he was strange. Did Molly not realise he had a dishwasher? In the fridge he found the cause of the smell – a serving of what looked like cottage pie. He decided to come back for it once he had found his girl.

He could hear a faint buzzing and followed the sound to the living room. He realised the television had been left on – it seemed like some political program. Then he saw Molly, curled up in a ball fast asleep on the sofa. His heart beat faster. She was just so beautiful. The fire was long burnt out, just a few smouldering remains.

She looked so peaceful; he didn't want to wake her. But he couldn't leave her down here all night. He crouched down in front of her and gently touched her shoulder.

"Molly? Baby?"

She groaned softly and opened her eyes. "Charles? What are you- oh? Shit did I fall asleep?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, you must have done. Didn't think you'd be the kind of person to watch Question Time," he teased.

"Oh you know me, I love a good political debate," she joked, stretching her body. She'd fallen asleep in a very awkward position and now her neck hurt as a result. She rubbed it gently and groaned again.

"How about you come to bed with me? There may even be a neck massage in it for you," he said cheekily, holding out his hand for her. She took and he pulled her up, her body falling against him. She tilted her head upwards and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He was expecting it to be just a peck, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

Charles responded and returned the kiss, tasting her. He ran his hands through her long hair and her hands snaked down his abdomen. Things were suddenly heating up and he span her around, pushing her against the wall. Molly loved it when he became dominant and smiled into the kiss. His hands fell down her to her buttocks and he pulled her up, Molly wrapping her legs around his waist.

She exhaled sharply as he trailed kisses down her neck, sucking gently at her collarbone. This was the sort of thing she imagined doing when they were at Bastion and she couldn't believe her fantasies - the ones that had got her through some of the toughest times in Afghanistan, imagining what the two would be when they returned home – were actually come true. She could feel him press against himself against her groin and arousal rushed through her veins.

She went to reach for his belt when suddenly his empty stomach gave an almighty roar. It was louder than anything she'd ever heard before and the sound completely distracted her. She stared at him for a second before she burst out laughing, his face turning red with embarrassment.

"Sorry," he mumbled, trying to laugh along with her. "Haven't had a chance to eat since breakfast."

She untangled her legs from his waist and grabbed his hand. Her face turned from laughter to concern. "Why not you silly sod? Come and eat now – I made you cottage pie!"

He shrugged. "Just had more important things to deal with earlier. I'm okay, really. I'd rather carry on where we were." He tried to move towards her to kiss her but she moved away.

She crossed her arms. "Nope. Go and eat now."

"Molly I'm an adult; I know when I need to eat."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," he gave in, pouting playfully. "Go to bed. I'll be up in a minute."

Charles had been starving – as soon as the pie was in the microwave he remembered how much he needed food and he was secretly glad Molly had made him eat. It was absolutely delicious. And though he would never tell her the truth, it was probably even better than his Mother's.

Once eaten and cleared up after himself, he wandered upstairs to find his girl. He had only been twenty minutes but Molly was already fast asleep. He assumed that the long flight had suddenly caught up with her. He silently got ready for bed and slipped in beside her, trying not to disturb her. But she automatically rolled over in her sleep to cuddle him.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her head.

"Love you Mols," he whispered into the darkness of the room.

She made a little noise in her sleep before she mumbled back.

"Ditto."


Hey guys! So I decided to extend this a bit. I've actually had this sitting on my computer for about to week but I didn't want to post it. Basically I have some ideas of a story but I'm not sure about posting anything quite yet until I've worked everything out. I'm also hesitant because I am literally drowning in uni work and I don't want writing to be an easy distraction - So I'm warning nothing else would be posted until end of November when all my assignments are due. Anyway but I decided I may as well post this and see what you think!

I was basically thinking about writing about how they try to adapt to a relationship outside of Afghan and the ups and downs… I'd love to hear your guy's opinions!

Thank you for reading!