'Have you ever had wine before, Frank?' Sylvia asked, feeling a bit giggly and not minding the couple of drifting snowflakes that touched her cheeks in the slightest.

'Yeah,' Pike replied, squeezing her hand a little tighter and looking down with a smile. 'There was this lady Mr Godfrey knew, and she had a farm, and we went to help with the Harvest! She made this wine, and we all had some, 'cause Uncle Arthur said I could!'

'Ooh…' She laughed, and leaned into him slightly. 'Aren't you sophisticated?'

'Yeah, sort of!' Pike agreed, tending as he did to think of himself as an undiscovered film star. 'And at Mr Jones' wedding – I did then too!'

'I never did,' Sylvia smiled. 'It was nice.'

They rounded the corner then, and walked the short distance down to Sylvia's house. As they came closer, Sylvia stopped, her hand still in his.

'Umm…well, I'd better be going…thank you…'

'Did you have a good birthday?' He could feel how close she was.

'Yeah.' It was cold, but just now, Sylvia didn't feel it.

'Here,' she continued, pulling something from her handbag. 'Birthday kisses…'

'Is that mistletoe?' Pike asked, trying to see the sprig of foliage she was waving about. 'My Mum says you shouldn't touch that…' He didn't sound convinced, though.

'Why? Not going to eat it,' she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and letting it fall.

She was warm on the cold night, and pressed herself up so tightly that Pike could still feel her under her thick coat, and her touch sent his pulse racing as he was slightly pushed back against someone's fence. It was too dark to see her properly, but he knew how she was looking up at him, and by now, had a pretty good idea what that look meant.

'Thank you for my Birthday.' Her voice was lower than usual, and he pulled her in closer. It still scared him, the things she made him want, the things she made him feel, but she was irresistible at the same time. It was confusing and exciting and unstoppable. Her chest heaved as she took a deep, shaky breath, then her lips were on his, pushing them open with rather more force than he'd dared use with her. The alcohol on their lips merged with her lipstick and cigarettes, and her perfume hung on the frozen air. As their kiss slowly broke, there was the strange feeling it was almost a promise – quite what that promise was, they couldn't admit, but they'd made it, all the same. Breathing hard, unreasonably hot, they didn't know quite what to say for a moment.

'Well… I'd better be going…' she managed, and fished about in her bag again.

'Oh…' This didn't sound good.

'What's wrong?'

'I haven't got my keys,' Sylvia said, looking worried.

'What? Well, your Mum's home, isn't she?'

'She might be – she's on call for Mrs Meadows tonight though,' Sylvia explained, knocking at the door. The sound carried on the night air, but no-one answered.

'Umm…' He was meant to look after her, Pike knew. She couldn't stay out here in the cold all night, but his Mum probably wouldn't like her being in their house that late…He didn't like to think of him as a possible solution, but…

'Is your Uncle in?'

'No,' Sylvia replied, looking down at the ice forming on the ground. 'He's gone to some Old Comrades Reunion…'

'Umm, well…' He didn't get the chance to finish.

'You don't mind waiting with me?' Her question was soft, gentle.

'Well, not here…' Pike wasn't keen on standing out in the cold all night.

'No, I don't mean here…' Her glance flickered up to him, and then she looked away.

'Come round the back gate – we could wait in the Shelter…'

'You what?' He sounded nervous. 'Can't do that…what someone sees?'

'Not tonight…no-one will see…and you wouldn't want to wait out here all night? Just for a bit?'

Her hand caught his then, and she stepped a little closer. He should have known he couldn't resist…somehow, Sylvia could convince him of anything. He just hadn't found out that he could do the same back.

'Well…all right. Just for a bit…'

'Come on, then. Round the back gate!' At that, Pike found himself being pulled along after his pretty redhead down a back lane, and bundled in through a small gate.

'Careful!' he said then, as her heels skidded on the icy path. 'It really hurts getting a sprained ankle, you know!'

'Sorry!' Sylvia felt giggly again. 'Come on, down here.' She pulled the corrugated iron door too, holding her breath as it scraped against the hard ground.

'There's a torch here somewhere…' she continued, feeling about inside. 'There! And candles!'

She shone the torch on the candles on the small table opposite the bunks, and lit them, replacing the harsh electric beam with a far softer glow and a little warmth. There wasn't much room, and Sylvia smiled as she wriggled past Pike to sit on the lower bunk. He didn't seem sure what to do with himself, and was starting to worry that this wasn't a good idea after all, but at the same time, he couldn't just leave her, could he?

'Sit down.' Her hand took his again.

'All right.' He sounded anxious, and was trying not to show it, which only made it worse. There wasn't a lot of room on the bunk either, and neither could sit up straight.

'Still cold, isn't it?' Her voice was close, soft and a little nervous.

'Yeah.'

'My back hurts sitting like this.' There was a pause before she continued. 'D'you mind if I just sort of…stretch out?'

'What?' It was sensible, Pike knew. His back hurt too, but there was no way she should…so why did he turn around to look at her, a shadowy vision in the candlelight, still in her coat, hat and shoes on the floor by his feet.

'That's better!' Sylvia smiled, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt. There would be no way of explaining this.

'Yeah.' He couldn't look away. They were quiet for a moment, watching the candle flicker as silent snowflakes settled on the cold earth above.

The question, when it came, took Pike by surprise. 'Frank? Do you remember your Dad?'

'No.' Crouching and half turned around to talk to her was really uncomfortable now. 'Mum says he died when she was expecting me.'

'You're lucky,' Sylvia sighed, a sad smile on her face. 'The War had just started when I lost mine. He wasn't killed or anything – the doctor said it was his heart. I think that's why I joined up as soon as I could, you know. To forget. I mean, the girls are nice, and I get to drive all sorts, all over the place, but…' Her voice trailed off.

'Yeah.' She seemed sad still, and Pike didn't like seeing her sad. He dropped his own hat down by hers, and without really thinking, shuffled up alongside her on the narrow bunk.

'Wish he could have been there tonight,' Sylvia continued. It was lovely, to be this close, but the unshed tears were real.

'Your Dad?' They were opposite one another now, every inch touching.

'Yeah.' An unfamiliar wave of protectiveness and loss for something he'd never really had washed over Pike as Sylvia cuddled up to him, their breath like smoke in the cold air. He'd never felt more in love as she gazed up at him and he wrapped an arm around her.

'I think he'd be proud.' Her chest was warm, and starting to rise and fall against his. 'Cause you're the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.' It was a whispered confession that set his heart racing and her breathing grew shallow as they found one another in the dim light. Kisses before weren't like this. They'd both, if they were honest, dreamed of such things, but had never truly believed, or at least, in Pike's case, not without the sequence of events that needed to fall into place to place him at some cocktail bar in Hollywood, surrounded by beautiful starlets eager for a part in his new film.

He hadn't meant to be leaning over her, he really didn't, but the sight of Sylvia's russet curls gently flattened against her pillow when their kiss broke was mesmerising. She held his gaze intently, blushing when it dropped to her chest.

'You hot now?' Her words were soft as her fingers reached up to unbutton her heavy coat. Wriggling, Sylvia pulled her arms free, and felt her cheeks burn as the young man stared, fascinated, as she repeated her action, letting her cardigan fall open and leaving her neckline exposed.

You like them, don't you, she thought, settling back down, lips slightly parted, watching him. 'D'you need that coat?' she continued. 'Never mind that scarf!'

'No…' Generally speaking, Pike could be confident bordering on cocky, and she could both strengthen that tendency and work against it, making him shy and nervous in ways he'd never admit. The strange thing was he didn't want her to stop, either. He shouldn't – they shouldn't – be doing any of this, but…

'…no…all right…' he managed, feeling both extremely self-conscious at taking anything off around her and wanting to see her reaction when he did. Sitting as best he could, he pulled at them, dropping them to join hers on the mismatched lino offcuts that covered the damp floor.

'Tie?' Her fingers were on it, and she sounded both hopeful and a little frightened. This was further than she should ever have gone, already.

'What?' The nerves kicked in again, but as she asked, he loosened it, almost unconsciously. A flicker of light caught her eyes then, and a spark of excitement lit their darkness. It partly made Pike want to run, but mostly made him want to see it again, and find out what it felt like to kiss her now, without a thick coat in the way. Leaning down, he found she felt warm; hot even, soft…just so different…

Sylvia couldn't resist, and pulled him down tightly. Her skirt had rucked up around her waist and small patches of her thighs were exposed, framed against stocking tops and the thick straps holding them in place. As she did so, their eyes met, heat and uncertainty showing in both. He didn't know what to do next, she thought, and also knew the last thing he'd do would be tell her.

'Frank?' she asked then, blushing at the thought.

'Yeah?' He could feel her under him.

'D'you want to…' She stopped there, and reached for his hand, placing it lightly on the curve of her breast.

She wasn't altogether surprised when he pulled it back, but she'd felt the reaction and seen the look that flashed in his eyes just before he looked away.

'I can't.' It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 'You can't…can't touch ladies there...'

'You can if you're asked.' She caught his hand, and tried again. This time, he didn't pull away, and they watched, fascinated, as he tentatively followed its form. Soft, but firmer than expected, and the peaks felt like little bullets, Pike thought. Why's that bit so hard when the rest is soft?

She gave a soft sort of sigh when his finger brushed there, and her hips pushed up slightly, making a jolt go through him in response. It wouldn't mean the same thing…would it? Them feeling like little bullets? It was something (one of many things) no-one had ever told him, and as such he'd never even considered it a possibility, but what if that meant girls liked something – really liked something?

Still not quite convinced, Pike drew his hand back, waiting to see what she would do next.

'Go on.' Her eyes were closed, and her thighs felt warm against his waist. 'It's nice…'

'Is it?' A touch of pride and considerable relief tinged his words. 'This is?' His heart racing, he ran his hand over her again, hoping for, and getting, that same push from her hips. Feeling what she was pushing against only made Sylvia want to do it harder, and her breathing was coming faster now. Her eyes flicked open, and she arched her back slightly into his touch. The dress fabric stretched tight across her breasts at her sudden movement, and the pattern and straps of her bra stood out beneath the cotton print.

They were being stroked harder now, as enthusiasm and excitement triumphed over inexperience, and she kept making that same jolt into him that was making things increasingly uncomfortable, as did her little cries and moans, and her hands on his back. She'd have to stop – soon – and that was the absolute last thing Pike wanted her to do, but…she really did need to, before…

Just then, her voice, sounding softer than he'd ever heard it, whispered something.

'I want to…' Sylvia's eyes were closed again, and as she spoke, he felt a sudden shake seem to go through her, and then she was quite still, surprisingly still, as her breathing gently slowed.

'Sylvia?' Pike wasn't sure what happened there. There was a possibility, but…surely not…no-one ever said girls did that…His thoughts trailed off, and he wasn't sure what to think. Never mind how else she'd affected him, and still was…

'You all right?'

She smiled at the innocent question.

'Yeah…' Her voice was still soft, like waking from a dream. 'I love you, Frank…'

'I love you.' He didn't really know what the right thing to do was now, so settled for putting an arm around her and just holding her close. It was a few minutes before either spoke again, trying to make sense in their own minds of what had just been.

'Umm…you sure you'll be all right here?' Pike asked then. 'Till your Mum comes back, 'cause…'

'Oh. Yeah…you best get home,' Sylvia felt reality creep in. 'What'll your Mum say?'

'Don't think my Uncle'll tell her,' Pike answered honestly. 'She's still in bed – flu, I think.'

'Oh…' She felt rather awkward at that. 'Sorry…'

'It's all right.' He flashed her a little smile at that. 'Had to look after you, didn't I?'

'Yeah, well…' She wasn't sure how much to admit. 'You did – really did.'

'OK, yeah…' He found the clothes he'd dropped, and pulled them on. Still feeling rather warm and tingly inside, in spite of the cold air, Sylvia pulled the blankets up over herself, watching him.

'Happy Birthday.' Leaning down, this kiss was rather shy in comparison, but just as sweet.

'Merry Christmas.'

As he left, Sylvia lay back, staring up at her mother's bunk above. Some minutes later, she reached down and pulled out her handbag. She reached inside, and drew out a key. Blushing, she had to admit, this time, she did plan it – well, some of it. She hadn't planned that…Not for the first time, it struck how wrong some of her earlier impressions of this boy really were, with her, at least. He was far more – interesting – than that, and she was still working it all out. Rolling the key around in her hand, Sylvia knew she'd have to go in soon, and moments later, let herself into the empty house.

It was some time though, before either slept that night.

Author's note: For those unfamiliar with the Anderson Air Raid Shelter, these were corrugated iron constructions built into the ground in people's gardens and used in Britain during the Second World War. It's most likely the type of shelter both Frank and Sylvia would have had at home.