A/N: Only three chapters left after this one! Anyway, have some smut. For old time's sake. I love saying this shit isn't my forte and then each scene ends up being thousands of words (: anyway, the second half is all filth. Too much filth, really, but we're reaching the end and they deserve it.

Six Days Later

Being back in their house in Port Royal was a surreal experience. Having grown unaccustomed to times of peace, Theo was having difficulty adapting - her body almost suspicious of the newfound ease, too much to appreciate it just yet. Although in the grand scheme of things, that was a pretty nice problem to have.

She continued healing. Achtland's promise to speed up that process a bit seemed to be a genuine one, because each day moving was a bit more easy, but it certainly wasn't an overnight thing. A lot of the time, she slept. That had visibly worried James at first, and she wondered if he wasn't concerned that she was about to slip into some terrible depression, but the truth of the matter was that she was just exhausted. After a few days, though, he seemed content enough that it was more a physical demand of her body to heal rather than her mind's desire to just not be awake.

And the silver lining amongst all of it was that, while her abdomen was still tender, she could not reasonably be expected to wrestle herself into the corsets and dresses of the day, so she did not yet have to face all of the civilised society of Port Royal. Unfortunately, that meant they took it upon themselves to visit her.

While James was out making arrangements for whatever grand scheme it was that he was cooking up (he still didn't want to tell her until he was sure he could pull it off), she was set up in the living room on the chaise longue in her nightgown, dressing gown, and a host of blankets, ready to smile tiredly at whatever visitor decided to come calling…and to hide her mangled hand from the view of the nosy ladies who no doubt had heard tell of her torture.

She'd already accumulated a wealth of flower displays and baked goods concocted by other people's cooks when Hattie stepped into the room. Their maid had resolved to work with them for what remained of their stay here, but would not follow them when they left - apparently she'd had her fill of adventure, and was probably worried that they'd only attract more bother wherever they went. Although she didn't voice that last bit. Theo couldn't blame her.

"You've another visitor," she greeted with a grimace.

It was difficult to say whether Beckett's death or her survival of, well, everything was to thank for the way the nerves had rapidly drained from her disposition now that they were back, but it was nice to see.

Sighing, Theo slid her right hand back under the blankets to hide it, but Hattie continued.

"I'm not sure there's any need for that - it's, well…I suppose you'll see."

From the way she was going on, Theo half expected Jack himself to step into the room with that shit-eating grin on his face, making her regret everything she'd said about potentially missing him. Instead, though, Will stepped into the living room, looking about curiously. She supposed he'd never been here before.

"Will," she greeted with a blink, sliding her hand out from under the blankets "Hello. Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth had visited a couple of days ago and stayed for a long time. At first Theo had wondered if it wasn't some residual (and unneeded) guilt that kept here there, or maybe some manner of test to see if she hadn't been lying about forgiving her, but the longer she stayed, the longer things felt like they had before - when they'd sat in the Governor's mansion eating ice cream together and discussing dresses, of all things..

"No, no, nothing like that," he shook his head "I thought I would call on you - and I brought you something."

It was strange seeing him once again dressed all prim and proper as a resident of Port Royal, in a ruffled shirt and a fine waistcoat, jacket, and finely polished black leather shoes with gleaming silver buckles - but she suspected he thought it was just as strange seeing her here masquerading as a respectable lady, so she kept her comment to herself.

"Elizabeth already brought my all of the chocolate that this hemisphere might lay claim to," she said "I'm afraid you can't outdo that."

He offered a small smile, motioning to the couch opposite to the one she lay on in question. Theo nodded and waved a hand, and he sat down.

"I ask only that you forestall judgement for the time being. Although first…I would like to apologise to you."

"What for?"

"I thought you a traitor," he replied frankly "In it only for yourself - and perhaps your husband. That you'd turned on us all and sold us to Beckett for your own ends."

"Considering all of those are things I worked very hard to make everybody believe so that Beckett wouldn't suspect anything, I can't exactly be overly angry that people believed them, can I?" she smiled tiredly "How dare you believe the lie I told everybody doesn't sound quite right, does it?"

"It still troubles me how quickly I believed it," he grimaced "But I suppose it was a complicated time."

"It was. Nobody trusted anybody with as much of the truth as we'd ordinarily like," Theo hummed in agreement "But it worked out well in the end."

"It did. Although I cannot help but wonder…you changed things. Yes?"

"I'm guessing Elizabeth told you that already."

"About Norri- Admiral Norrington, yes."

"Way I hear it, he's only Admiral 'til midnight tonight now. Some technicality."

He'd kept ahold of the title just long enough to ensure they'd get their pardons, and so that it didn't look like he'd been stripped of it in anything resembling dishonour, and now he was letting it go.

"You're still resolved to leave, then?"

"Mm. It'll be nice for us to both leave together, for once, though. And on a mission that doesn't guarantee death and dismemberment,"

"Always glowing attributions to any endeavour," Will nodded "I hear the town is abuzz with this new endeavour of his."

"It is?"

"Yes - despite their not knowing what exactly it entails."

"Good. I'd have to take it personally if I was the last to know."

The conversation drew to a natural close then, and although the air had been cleared between them (although she hadn't considered it horrendously murky to begin with), they weren't quite so close that the silence didn't threaten to grow awkward. Thankfully Will thought the same, though, reaching into his coat pocket.

"I confess, I cannot take credit - it was my father."

"Your father?"

"Yes, he hoped it might convey his apologies, but he had not the heart to make them himself. I suspect he feared your husband might divest him of his head if he drew too near."

"I'm just as dangerous as him," she griped - albeit slightly untruthfully, as far as technical skill was concerned anyway.

Will smirked "That is what I told him."

"Good lad."

"All the same…I do believe this is the second time I've returned these to you."

Theo's eyes widened, but before she could ask the question, he was producing the photographs - stacked tightly together and bound in a bright blue ribbon. Will's eyes lingered on her nail-less (and still pretty angry-looking) fingertips as she accepted them. It was only when she plucked at the ribbon questioningly that he looked abashed.

"Elizabeth," he supplied "She told me she knew the truth, and I showed her. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," she murmured.

This time she was actually able to look at the photograph at the top - the one of her and her dad - without the pain in her chest feeling quite so raw. Knowing he knew had helped more than she'd ever dreamed. Having some sort of goodbye, even if she hoped it wouldn't be the final one, had helped. Closure was a hell of a thing.

Swallowing hard, she nodded and slipped them into the pocket of her dressing gown.

"Tha-" she paused and had to start again "Thank you, Will. Really. Next time you see your father, thank him for me too. Tell him there's no hard feelings."

"On your side, or the admiral's?"

Theo suppressed a smile and Will sighed "I thought so."

She resisted the urge to point out there wasn't exactly any love lost between the two of them. He and Will had hardly seen eye to eye just about ever - and it was clear that it was a clash of personalities more than just to do with their prior squabbles over Elizabeth's hand.

As if reading how her thoughts had wandered towards his wife, Will hesitated and then continued slowly.

"Elizabeth seems to be under the impression that Barbossa was not the one who was, er, originally destined to stab the heart. That were it not for you and your changes, it would not be he who captains the Dutchman now. Is that true?"

"Yes," Theo nodded - and offered little more.

"It wasn't Jack, was it?" He made a face, betraying exactly what he thought of the seas under the command of Captain Sparrow.

She smiled "Ha - can you imagine? No. It wasn't Jack. But that's all I'm going to say."

Already it was very possible that she'd said too much. There were few major players in all that had gone down - and he already knew that she'd saved James from death, true death much more concrete than whatever the hell the Dutchman's captain was locked into - which only left a very small amount of people who could possibly have ended up at the helm. Namely Will himself, Elizabeth, or maybe even Bootstrap. Whichever of those three Will thought it might have been - and she suspected he was close to the money, judging by the frown that flickered across his brow - it was clear they'd have been a hell of a lot more dear to him than Barbossa was.

"I suppose it no longer matters," he said quietly, as eager to hear the full truth as she was to tell it.

"None of it does," she agreed "Not anymore."

One of the beautiful things about James' newfound freedom from his duties was that his late nights had been all but wiped out. Given his one-time affinity for his work, Theo had wondered if the novelty of that would wear thin at some point or another, but apparently a week (give or take) wasn't quite enough to lose the "thank God you're alive" glow. And whatever enterprise he was cobbling together clearly helped, for she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him in such a good mood. Not since Tortuga, when he'd discovered that he'd gain everything back and they could be together in the way they wanted - and even that had been a meagre shade of this.

She didn't have much right to laugh at him, though, because she was feeling much of it herself. Will had long left by the time James returned home that evening, but Theo was still reclined in the living room. Chairs were proving to be her enemy - something about the way they forced her to sit - so they ate on the living room floor, using the coffee table as a dining table. Another throwback to Tortuga. They ate with their fingers and fed each other bites like newlyweds - which, she had to remind herself, they still were, even though it felt like several lifetimes had gone by between their wedding and now.

When they were done with their food and their wine both - fine wine, too, a gift from Governor Swann - James spoke.

"We should retire to the bedroom - I've something to show you."

"My, my," she snickered.

"You're awful. I only meant that there's no room for it here," he gestured to the table to illustrate his point - but his clarification only had her snickering more, and then those snickers turned into poorly disguised giggles.

She'd blame the wine, but he likely wouldn't believe her.

"You, my dear wife, have a filthy mind."

"Lucky you, eh?"

He smirked, and while she expected him to make some sort of sarcastic, teasing comment he only considered her words and hummed in agreement "Lucky me."

They did retire to their bedroom after that, pausing only so James could pull a roll of parchment from his coat pocket in the entrance hall. He insisted on walking behind her on the stairs so that he could break her fall if she suddenly went tumbling backwards. It wasn't something she'd done yet, not even when they'd first arrived (although he'd insisted on carrying her the first few times), but she didn't put up a fuss over it,

When they got to their room, Theo stripped down to her nightdress - folding her dressing gown carefully over the back of her vanity's chair, while James divested himself of his waistcoat and cravat. Trial and error had already taught them the easiest way to lie down together here - James reclining back on the bed, and Theo between his legs with her back against his chest. It allowed closeness, and left her able to lean forward and backward based on his own muscle power rather than hers.

It also offered him a perfect vantage point from which he could murmur lowly into her ear, a power which he used without impunity now that he knew the effect it had on her. Theo didn't mind, though - it was good to see the levity return to him. Once they were settled, his long legs bracketing hers and his hands reaching around her middle, he unfurled the scroll in her view.

Written in carefully sketched out block letters were three words - Norne Maritime Protection.

"What am I looking at here?" she murmured.

She had an idea of what it was, but she wanted to be sure before she offered any sort of reaction.

"Our new company. I've spoken to the Governor, and he's agreed to invest. More than that, I've been offered a more than reasonable pension throughout the rest of my life. One might think they don't wish for me to travel the world singing of how my superior tortured my wife. That alone would have been enough, but with the Governor's backing and the ears he promises to bend in our favour…we'd have enough to buy a fleet."

"A security service?" she asked.

"We will offer security, yes. To the everyday man - honest sailors, merchants, and such who wish to sail but must contend with fear of being divested of their goods by pirates. A way of doing good without being subject to orders from those above us who do not have that same wish."

"Your name will be recommendation enough for those honest folk to trust your abilities," she mused.

"Even if I am not on the ships offering protection personally. I can be as involved or as uninvolved as I so wish - when we pine for the sea, we can go. When necessity or want drives us back ashore, we may remain there, so long as I ensure I hire the right men - the trustworthy men - to act in my stead. A lifetime of leadership has allowed me to recognise such men. We are not the only ones disillusioned by the navy after all Beckett has wrought, I'd already had a few express interest. There will be plenty more among those who are retired and such."

"We?" she was still hung up on part of what he'd said "We can go to sea, or we can go ashore?"

"You cannot think I still mean to leave you behind for the majority of the year every year," he snorted "If that was my intent, I may as well remain Admiral Norrington."

Theo didn't respond - she wasn't sure she could respond - but he was pressing on anyway.

"In any case, it's not only my name that may benefit this venture. What my reputation lends to potential customers, yours aids us in the way of hazards. I'm not so naive as to think that all pirates will turn heel and run if they know our men have ties to Jack Sparrow's witch, as well as their Pirate King no less, and the new captain of the Dutchman, but I'm also not so foolish as to think it could resolve many a conflict without violence. Definitely, where our once-allies are concerned."

Lifting a finger to the scroll as he held it open, Theo smoothed a finger as lightly as possible over the name so she wouldn't smudge the lettering. Norne.

"Norrington and Byrne?" she breathed.

"Just so. But there's more meaning to it than that. In Germanic mythology, the Norns - spelled without an 'e' at the end - are deities of destiny, and of time. The past, the present, and the future, each represented by one of the three. It seemed…oddly fitting, and an eerie coincidence indeed that our names might create their name, spelling aside."

"Achtland will be raging we're paying homage to other deities."

He chuckled "What do you think? Is this a venture you could support? A future you might look forward to?"

"I…I don't know what to say," she admitted quietly.

"In a good way or a bad one? I was unsure about not including you in everything from the start, but I didn't want to bring it to you until I could be certain that it was viable. That aside, nothing is yet set in stone. I have…I have aligned all of the pieces, but I have not yet set them in motion. Not truly."

"A good way," she put him out of his misery the moment he paused for breath "A very, very good way."

Plenty of women back home would have considered it a big thing if their husbands involved them in their business to this extent - and whether (as far as modern times were concerned) it was a grand gesture of love or just basic common decency was a debate for another time - but the fact remained that here, now, in this time, it meant a lot. To actively involve her in this new venture, to assume that she would come along - to want her there, rather than assuming from the get-go that she'd be busy at home popping out fifteen kids and homesteading. There had never been any doubt in Theo's mind regarding the man she'd married, but god if he didn't still reaffirm that surety time after time.

"We should have our honey-moon first," he said "Put business out of our minds for that time. God knows we deserve a rest. But later, when the time comes...it shall cost us comparatively little, and may bring us much."

"Norne Maritime Protection," she murmured.

"Groves drew it out for me," he admitted with a snort "My penmanship is fine enough for reports and business, but I've not much patience for anything like this."

"I'm guessing it has his support, then?"

"Mm. And there shall always be a ship in it for him should he tire of a military life. But first we must decide where our base of operations will be."

"Somewhere not landlocked, I'm guessing."

"It would make things difficult," he said drily "But I would rather we chose where we should like to live, and then go accordingly from there, rather than the reverse."

"Any thoughts on that score?"

"That is one thing that I would never begin to think on without your input."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," she snorted.

He chuckled lowly into her shoulder "To speak truthfully, I had assumed you would say Ireland."

"That's a fair shout, but I don't know how smart it would be. There are about to be terrible famines there on and off for a long time - which leads to starvation and desperation. Not exactly a safe atmosphere."

She also wasn't sure how well a former British officer would do there - both personally, and in terms of business. It would be an uphill battle, and she was tired of uphill battles. At least for now.

"I think it'd be too painful, too," she added "I know we said we'd go there to visit once I'm healed, and I want that, but to live there? It'd just be a daily reminder of everything."

"I suspected that," he admitted, tilting the paper towards the candlelight in a contemplative manner "I know - well, perhaps I do not know, but I may at least guess - what it meant to you to change your name, especially from one that is Irish to one that is English. I hope this might acknowledge that, and all else that you have forsaken for my sake."

"It was worth it. And you can't talk like I'm the only one who gave anything up. You can't pretend that two years ago you would have thought that you had a future that lay outside the navy."

"Two years ago, I viewed a future in the navy as a very different thing indeed," he murmured "And it is worth it."

The paper was cast aside into the bedside drawer, and when he was settled again she craned her neck up so that she could kiss him. The angle was awkward but she didn't care - and he didn't seem to, either, cupping her jaw and kissing her back deeply. There was a key difference between back on the Endeavour, when they'd kissed simply for the joy of kissing and the closeness, knowing it couldn't lead anywhere, and by the time her neck was beginning to protest the odd angle (and her lungs the lack of air), she could feel evidence of his similar thinking pressing against the small of her back.

"How is…how is it faring?" he nodded in the direction to her still-healing abdomen.

"Ugly as fuck," she snorted, sounding more bitter than she'd have liked.

"Nothing about you is ugly."

"Flatterer."

"Not at all - take it from me and my hideous feet," he said drily.

Theo smiled. She knew he was never going to let her live down that joke.

"Why do you ask?" she questioned, tone laced with a great deal of false innocence "Have you had an idea?"

She pressed back against his growing hardness, earning a low sound from the back of his throat.

"I'm trying to be respectful of your healing," he murmured.

"I wish you would be disrespectful," she teased.

The chuckle he gave in response was downright dangerous. As was his voice when he responded.

"My dear wife, do not tell me I've been neglecting you?" he asked, one hand skimming up her side before palming her breasts through her nightgown.

"I don't think you're capable of neglecting me," she said fondly, arching her back to chase his touch.

But then it disappeared.

"Ah, so I've been smothering you, then? You need solitude? Time to yourself?" he sounded far too pleased with himself as he teased her.

Theo groaned, tilting her head back to rest against his shoulder "You're a cruel and unusual man, James."

"I rather suspect you like it," his lips brushed her cheek as he leaned forward to make that accusation - and she didn't realise he'd taken hold of her nightdress until the hem began to slip up her shin.

In response she made to turn so that she faced him, but he tutted, and the hand that was not concerned with her nightgown clamped down across her hips, keeping her in place.

"I like you just where you are," he said, and she suppressed a smile at the hint of authority in his voice, relaxing against him quite content to see what his game was.

The hem of the nightgown was midway up her thigh when his hand let go of the fabric. Having expected him to go on pulling it up until it was all the way off, she blinked in surprise but had no time to voice it when his now-free hand trailed warmly down her thigh, snaked around the underside of it and pulled it up until her right knee was hooked over his own. Rather than do the same with the other leg, though, he planted his foot at the inside of her ankle and then swept it to the side until her legs were being kept open by both of his own, and she felt scandalously exposed.

"You blush very prettily, you know," he murmured.

It was then that he resumed his efforts with her nightgown, until it was finally pooled at her hips, lying bundled over the bandages that encircled her lower abdomen.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"If anything hurts, I'll let you know," she breathed.

"And if something feels good?" he teased.

"Oh, I have a feeling you'll be able to tell."

Another low chuckle more than signalled his agreement. His fingertips strayed upwards, and then further still rather than slipping between her thighs as she'd expected, given the pro-wrestler-like moves he'd utilised to get her into this incredibly compromising position in the first place.

Unable to do much with her hands at this angle, she busied herself with turning her head and capturing his lips in another kiss. All the while she pretended not to be painstakingly aware of that hand of his, taking hold of one of the ribbons at the neckline of her nightgown and undoing the bow it was tied into with one easy pull. Rather than urge her to lean forwards so they could ease the gown down her shoulders, though, he just took advantage of the slackened fabric to slip one large, warm hand beneath the delicate lace.

Theo sighed into the kiss as two fingers circled a nipple already stiffened into a hard point - and the sigh turned into a breathy moan when he then palmed her breast, squeezing and kneading as her back arched and his tongue slid against hers. He was trying to kill her. He was going to kill her. She'd survived Barbossa, Davy Jones, Beckett, and Mercer, and now she was going to die at the hands (quite literally) of James Norrington. What a way to go.

The hand at her hip remained there so she couldn't wriggle about too much, leaving her at the mercy of the other as it moved to her other breast, and then back to the first, and then back again, all while he kissed her in a way that was likely to drive her mad before long. She could feel the thickness of him pressing against the small of her back, through his breeches and through her nightgown, and that would surely drive her mad if the kisses did not, along with the heat of him at her back. It soon became clear that she wasn't the only one affected, either, given how every now and then he would rock his hips up, seeking friction as he ground his hips up against her.

It only dizzied her all the more, because he was denying her similar relief. Splayed as she was, and kept that way by his legs, she was painfully aware of two things - the air against her exposed, rapidly slickening core, and her absolute inability to give herself any relief at all, unable to even squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the ache. When she tried, testing her "restraints", he widened his legs just a little further, doing the same to hers in kind. Theo groaned at the cruelty.

"James," she all but whined.

"Have I finally discovered the means to stop your jokes?" he teased - far too smugly.

"Good luck trying it at the dinner table-ah," her very good comeback was ruined by what ended up sounding like an impromptu impression of Davy Jones as he slid his hand from her nightgown and finally allowed it to stray down between her thighs.

Of course, he continued to tease her - even as her head fell back against him and her eyes fluttered shut. It didn't matter, though, she didn't have to see to know that a good deal of his smugness melted away when he felt how wet she was, the responding groan from him low and rumbling, emanating deep from his chest against her back. One finger, just one, slid through her folds and avoided all of the spot she most wanted his attention - avoiding that bundle of nerves that was begging to be touched, then slipping downward and barely dipping inside before he repeated the process.

"James, please," she groaned, unable to even gain purchase to buck her hips up.

"This angle is not the best," he murmured.

Theo paused, then she couldn't help but breathe a laugh "The phrase preaching to the choir comes to mind."

At first he didn't react, except for the stilling of his hand which had her practically sobbing in disappointment.

"You cannot be suggesting that my good lady wife allows her hands to slip between her legs like a veritable wanton," he said, voice laced with faux-outrage.

She offered a smile at that, well aware of how she was about to play with fire, offering a noise of thoughtfulness that didn't sound half as innocent as she'd hoped. The kiss he planted where her neck met her shoulder told her he didn't believe it.

"Usually," she purred "while thinking of you."

He groaned; and then that groan morphed into a chuckle.

"One day I shall ask you to show me," he vowed, and if her cheeks hadn't already been afire they certainly would have been then "Tonight, however…"

It was then that James - thank Christ - took mercy on her. She was too relieved to be embarrassed by the fact that she could hear how wet she was as he slid one finger into her, sliding it in slowly all the way to the knuckle before easing it out and then adding a second. Theo's back arched, and she didn't care a whit for the stretching tightness in her abdomen as she did so. When she opened her eyes and looked up to him, she found him watching her. His green eyes were hooded, and the desire she saw burning there plain as day was the only warning she received that he'd tired of games.

The fingers pressing into her picked up speed, parting and stretching her open to prepare her for him, and if that hadn't been enough to have him writhing atop her, the way his other hand sought out her clit would have been. He started with slow, firm circles with one fingertip while she whimpered and rocked her hips up against his hands. All the while he murmured in her ear - switching between praise, encouragement, adoration, and utter filth - his voice even lower than normal, either to deliberately drive her wild or because he was hardly unaffected by his own little game. Judging by the increasing fervour in his touch, she guessed the latter. It only spurred her on, intoxicating.

Only when she began to flutter and clench down upon his fingers did he speed up to a pace that stole the words from her lips and filled the room with utterly obscene, slick sounds. His teeth nipped at her throat and then one, two, three thrusts of his fingers later she was done for. Her good hand grasped anywhere she could reach him behind her - the nape of his neck, his shoulder, the side of his jaw - she cried out his name, and then she saw stars. He kept it up until she was lying boneless and breathless against him, and then eased his fingers slowly out of her, pressing a kiss to the side of her jaw in response to the noise of protest in the back of her throat in response to the oversensitivity.

"Fucking hell," she breathed.

"Ah, the Theodora Norrington seal of approval," he teased behind her.

She winced as he slowly straightened the leg that her own was hooked over, her muscles protesting as they untangled their legs and she could once again press her thighs together.

"Are you well?" he wrapped his arms around her as she caught her breath.

"I'm very, very good," she breathed a laugh.

"Not very, very, very good?"

"Depends on what we do next."

He breathed a laugh "A veritable wanton, indeed."

"He says as if I can't feel his enthusiasm poking into my back."

"I did not say it was a bad thing," he pointed out.

Too boneless to argue, she let him have that one. He slowly eased the both of them up until they were sitting on the bed, and then slid out from behind her, rising to his feet so he could undress. Theo did the same, leaving her in just the bandage wrapped around her abdomen below her navel. Underneath it was a concoction of honey and god only knew what medicinal herbs, so unless they wanted to spend the night glued together like some kind of trap put out to capture Winnie-the-Pooh, it would have to stay on.

His own bruises had begun to fade to a sickly yellowish green, dotted all over his upper body as he pulled the shirt off over his head. Theo frowned at them, unaware that she was even doing so until he returned to her, shaking his head and leaning over her so he could press a slow kiss to her lips.

"None of that - not here, not now. We've no need for it."

As he kissed her again after he spoke, Theo scooted backwards up the bed, allowing him to guide her to lie down as she marvelled at finally being able to kiss him properly without compromising her neck. And if that was good, being able to touch him was a marvel, her hands sliding up his firm sweat-slicked abdomen, over his chest, across strong, hard shoulders, then down across his back as he licked into her mouth and settled atop her.

Legs spreading automatically to make room for his hips, he moaned into her mouth as the thick, heavy length of him nudged against her sopping wet folds. Rather than press inside, though, he lodged it between them, grinding it against her as he kissed her. She was already embarrassingly close to another climax - their inability to do much of anything before now having followed an incredibly active first few weeks of marital bliss, combined with them both finally being well enough to celebrate their survival all working in tandem to make her far too worked up to play anything resembling hard to please.

She wasn't the only one who was worked up, either, for she was certain hers wasn't the only slick that eased along the motion of his hips - but she couldn't even tease him for it, because every time the ridge of him rubbed up against her clit, every time his tip failed to catch and enter her, every time he groaned impossibly low into their kisses and palmed her breasts, she was certain she was going to die. It was only when her hands stopped exploring him in order to wrap around his neck, her legs tensing up as she barrelled towards another climax, did he finally press inside. And that was all it took.

When she finally came back to earth, she found him gazing down upon her with such love that it threatened to rip her heart from her chest. Tilting her head just slightly up was all that it took to close the gap between their lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms unhooking from about his neck to cup his jaw, comb through his hair, slip down his back. Several phrases flitted through her head - you're going to be the death of me being the main one that kept coming up, but when they parted she ended up murmuring an 'I love you' instead, and she found she meant that most of all.

A hopelessly soft, handsome smile spread across his lips as he shifted his weight onto one elbow planted beneath her arm so the other hand could come up to caress her face.

"I love you too," he breathed "More than I ever thought it possible to love another."

He punctuated the profession with a slow, grinding roll of his hips, barely pulling out before he sank back in, eyes searching her face for any sign of discomfort. When he found none, he repeated the motion - over and over until she was forgetting her doubts that she could climax again. Her third snuck up on her, not least because he'd left her clit alone correctly judging it to be too sensitive and instead diverting his attention to her breasts while he kissed her neck. It rolled over her in a wave much gentler than the last two, leaving her a gasping mess beneath him.

Time lost all meaning after that, nothing existing and nothing mattering beyond the two of them, here and now, his weight pressing down upon her, his arms caging her in, the sweat collecting in the divot of her collarbones - until Theo was certain that if she glanced towards the window and found daylight breaking outside, she would not have been surprised. Her earlier words flickered across her mind as she hung onto him for dear life. He was going to be the death of her - slowing down to that same rolling press every time he drew near to his own end, speeding up again only once he was certain he'd managed to stave it off.

"James - James please," she whined, unsure if she was asking for more or less.

"One more," he all but rumbled, speaking softly into her ear before he nipped at her earlobe.

"I can't."

"That- ngh, that doesn't sound like the woman I married," he breathed a laugh.

"So you know to- fuck, James - you know to believe it now," she countered, as if she wasn't bucking her hips up to meet his even as she complained.

"I believe in you," he teased, pressing a wet kiss to the side of her neck.

Theo breathed a laugh - and it distracted her from the hand that snaked down between them right up until his thumb slid through her folds and found her clit, rubbing in quick, merciless circles until she was running the risk of waking the whole island. She didn't care. But, through it all, she did remember one thing - she could give as good as she got, and he was growing far too smug.

Cupping his jaw, she pressed a kiss to his lips, moaning into his mouth and then breathing out another moan of his name. His hips stuttered, and then really began to pick up the pace - the result being pure and utter fire, emanating down throughout her entire lower body.

"Please, James - I want to feel it," his hips stuttered in response to her words, and she was barely aware of if she was even managing to string the sentence together properly as she hurtled towards the edge "I need to feel it - please, I need y-"

Her pleas - while designed to push him over the edge - were genuine, but were cut off by a wordless cry as she clamped down upon him and came one last earth-shattering time. Amidst it all, she felt his hips stutter again, his rhythm give out, and then his hips pressing flush against hers as he filled her with a low, drawn out moan that had her toes curling.

When it was over, she felt like she'd just been through battle. Well, if battle happened to be something she absolutely hoped to repeat. One day. Eventually. When the feeling returned to her legs. It would probably take a few months. He'd have to carry her around until then. They'd need to invent a cover story. Or not. Amelia Simmond's reaction might be funny.

Theo hissed as James eased out of her, slowly rolling to lie on his side beside her. She couldn't even tell how he was faring, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to open her eyes if she tried. The back of a finger slid across her jaw, and finally he spoke.

"Was it…was it too much? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"I'm going to die," she breathed, lifting a hand to smooth her hair back from her face before he beat her to it, so she let her hand reach out blindly for him instead, landing somewhere on his bicep "But it would be a very, very good way to go. Jesus Christ."

She had to move eventually. To clean up, to pee, to brush her hair so it wasn't a matted mess tomorrow. But that involved moving. Opening her eyes was a good start, and she found him watching her with no small amount of pride written across his features as he took in how utterly fucked senseless she was. She blushed under the gaze, but grinned in return to find him looking so dishevelled - his hair damn and falling about his face despite his efforts to push it back, his brow shining with sweat, and his features looking so young. So carefree.

Sliding her hand down his arm until she reached his fingers, she brought his own hand to her lips and kissed his palm.

"How is it that you madden me so every time? Every day? Every hour, woman."

"The feeling is more than mutual, if that helps," she echoed with a laugh "But it's not even been a year. I'd be worried if my novelty had worn off already."

"Ten years from now it still will not have changed."

"What about twenty?"

"Thirty," he returned "And however many more we are given."

Knowing that these were things they could now speak of with miles more certainty than they'd ever been able to before was enough to leave her feeling drunk. It looked like mortal peril was a hell of a way to ward off taking things for granted.

A/N: I managed to delete and then restore this chapter when it was 2 paragraphs away from being finished, and the whole process nearly gave me a heart attack because smut takes me ten times longer to write than anything else xoxo it truly was my Joker moment.