A/N: This is my attempt to write another Will/Kate. Please enjoy. And thank Leslie for polishing it up. It's shiny now.


He watches her from the corner of his eye when he can. She's so beautiful…it's absolutely arresting. He's sure that if he thought about it, he could stretch his creative writing muscles and compose a sonnet or something. Perhaps it's too classical for her. He thanks god for peripheral vision again as she turns in her waltz. His irises trail to her face, glowing, lit up in a smile. Her hair is dark gold in the lighting.

He finishes the rest of his drink. He feels…bold. Well, not brazenly bold, but bolder than usual. Shaking the semantics argument he's having with himself out of his head, he heads over to where she is. He taps her on the shoulder, and she stops. The man she's dancing with reacts violently. "Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" The corners of his mouth lift in an attempt to repress a smile as he reaches for her hands and begins to dance with her. The man continues to voice his protest as they whirl across the floor.

"That wasn't very nice, you know."

"It wasn't very nice of him to monopolize you."

Her eyebrow raised in curiosity. "He was monopolizing me?"

He nodded. "And you see, as a federal employee, it was my civic duty to…you know…stop him from committing acts against Congress…or something." She smirked. The waltz stops, and they separate. He stands next to her, his hand gently resting on the small of her back. She registers it from the tingles that are spreading throughout her spine. He brushes a stray lock of her behind her ear. She flushes. She's practically invoking all of her instincts from her CIA days to prevent him from knowing how close she is to dying inside.

"I think I'm going to go." She begins to move, her mind trying to recall the entranceway. She immediately notices the lack of heat. She sighs, trying to divert her thoughts from Will to finding the door she came through. She feels a presence behind her.

"If I remember correctly," he whispers in her ear, "you came through that door." He gestures to the mezzanine door. She smiles, grateful for the help, her spine newly atingle. She begins to head for the door, and is grateful when she escapes the crowds. She never liked crowds. Silence and solitude were what she used to love. She reaches to open the door that leads to the parking lot, when it opens right as her hand touches the handle. He's there again. She smiles.

"You're everywhere tonight, aren't you?"

"I do my best." He pauses, following her. "Let me walk you to your car."

She smirks. "You seem to be psychic tonight. Do you know where it's parked?"

"No, but hopefully, you do, so lead the way, and I'll pretend to be a chivalrous, stalking gentleman." She laughs, giddily, like she hasn't in years, before abruptly stopping at her car. I parked too close. Her rational side replied. Well, it's not as if you expected Will to walk you to your car. "Thanks, Will. You really didn't have to—" He cuts her off with a kiss. It's presumptuous of him, he knows, but he has to. Those lips have been tempting him all night, not to mention the woman they belong to. He pulls away, and just rests his forehead against hers for a second.

"I'm sorry."

"Do you want to come over?" She pauses, testing the words on her tongue. "For coffee, or something?" He gets in the passenger side. She begins to drive. It's a silent and torturous drive to her apartment. He's so anxious, he almost wants to grab the wheel and tell her to fuck the driving laws, and just cut across Dupont. He's too composed to say something like that though. No matter how much anxiety he has.

She parks the car, and he gets out, allowing her to take the lead. She kisses him roughly before she opens the door to her apartment building. The threads of his composure are beginning to unravel. As soon as they enter, he pushes her against the door, shutting the door audibly behind them. He kisses her with such passion and thirst. It's almost as if he expects her to disappear. They stumble up the stairs, and down a hall. When he stops assaulting her lips, she takes a few breaths before speaking. "That's my apartment back there." They retreat steps and she allows him entrance to her apartment. She locks the door behind her. "Coffee?"

"Mmm…no." He reaches for her, and she acquiesces, leading him to her bedroom as articles of clothing get scattered along the way, like breadcrumbs in Hansel and Gretel.

He moves gently against her, providing counters for all of her motions. He pulls her close to him, flesh against flesh, and it's an intimate gesture to her. She wonders if he loves her, and then, the crests collapse, and there is a wondrous reaction.

He wakes to the sounds of voices. The sun is streaming gently through the window, and he doesn't remember where his glasses are. He fumbles around, and finds them at last. His eyes dart around, searching for the source of the talking. He finds C-Span on. He chuckles.

He rises and heads through the apartment to look for her. He doesn't have to go far. He sights his dress shirt, loose-fitting on her lithe form, but attractive nonetheless. He embraces her from behind, kissing her neck lightly. "What are you doing?" She pointed to the percolating coffee, and the toaster.

"It was fun this morning, Will."

"Doing what?" He kisses her neck, and her pulse quickens just a bit, and her breaths become shorter. He really shouldn't do that when she's trying to think. He employs his teeth, and a breathy moan leaves her mouth before she can really stop it.

"Being…stereotypical." The toast pops up just as the coffee finishes. Her face lights up. "Breakfast?"

He pauses, pretending to think. "I think there's an urgent matter at hand." He kisses her again. "Besides, toast isn't really that good when it's fresh out of the toaster." She throws her head back and emits a laugh, short and genuine, and he links his fingers in hers, and leads her to her bedroom.