Note: Lizzy evidentially found the previous scenes of this vignette inspiring, because she sent me some scribblings of her own. And guess what? Much of them ended up in this last section. So don't be surprised, Lizzy, when you read part three and recognize your own words.

May We Sleep With You?
Part Three

Erik woke up to the sound of the mantle clock chiming four. He glanced out the window and noted that the storm had blown itself out, and from behind fragments of clouds, he could see the moon trying to peek out. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Is the storm over?" Christine whispered, not wanting to wake the boys.

"It looks to be," he answered, also keeping his voice low. He looked at their two children, sleeping peacefully between them. "They look like little angels, don't they?"

She reached over and brushed the hair from Charles's face. "Just like their father. Do you suppose they'll be all right in their own room now?"

Erik agreed. "If you take Charles, I'll bring Etienne." Tenderly, he picked the boy up, not wanting to wake him if possible. Etienne moaned softly. "Come on, son," Erik whispered. "Time to take you back to your room."

"Funder gone?" Etienne mumbled, never opening his eyes.

"That's right," his father said, reassuring the boy. "Funder gone."

Christine, with Charles in her arms, followed Erik to the nursery next to their room. They tucked the boys back into bed, giving each a kiss before returning to their own. Back inside, Erik paused as he closed the door. "This time, we lock it," he said.

They got back into bed, lying next to each other like two spoons. Erik draped his arm across Christine's waist. A few moments later, his hand wandered and he grazed her stomach with his thumb. She wiggled against him, pressing her body against his.

"Mmmm," she whispered, pleased with the reaction she got. "I like that."

"So do I," he responded sleepily, nuzzling her hair.

"You were sweet earlier, with the boys. You could have simply sung them a lullaby, and sent them back to their own beds."

"No, I couldn't have done that." A fleeting moment of sadness came over him. "I remember only too well how I felt when I was their age, how much it would have meant to me if my father had taken me in his arms and banished the storms for me." And then the sadness was gone and his mood immediately lightened. "Besides," he said, trying to stifle yawn, "boom-boom bad. Required immediate remedy."

She giggled softly. "Boom boom. I think I recall reading about that in your book."

"You mean, The Book?" He was fully awake now. "I haven't seen that thing in ages. You and Mamma have no doubt absconded with it, and I am sure the two of you are plotting wicked things – boom boom things – against the men who are at your mercy."

"You won't think they're such wicked things when I show you the ones I've picked out," she said, tempting him.

He swallowed. "Hmm…there are a few I've been thinking about, too." He pulled her hair back, exposing her neck, and gently kissed the spot that she liked best.

She shivered with delight. Outside, she heard the low rumble of distant thunder. "Is that another storm coming in? Or the old one going out?"

"Sounds like it's off to the west; probably the remnant of the one we had earlier," Erik said. "I suppose I should put up the storm shutters tomorrow," he said pensively, his eyebrows knit.

"Battening down the hatches? It was only a thunderstorm," she said, snuggling close.

"You know how unpredictable the weather is around here, how it can change at a moment's notice, especially during this time of the year. Besides, those lightning rods need to be checked."

"Lightning never strikes twice in the same place. Isn't that right?"

She turned on her side, facing him, and traced an outline across his forehead with her free hand, her fingers gently caressing his scarred face.

He smiled at Christine, throwing off whatever darkness thoughts had momentarily clouded his mind. "I don't know about that," he said, waggling an eyebrow at her.

"A franc for your thoughts," he said. When she didn't say anything, he asked, "Is something wrong?" He was concerned by the sudden change in her normally playful demeanor. Reaching over to her, he took his hand and smoothed the hair from her eyes, and kissed her softly.

She didn't want to tell him that she had been thinking back to the time when he had been nearly struck by lightning, the night he had been forced to defend all them from that horrible man, Fournier. "I'm just thinking how we are so lucky to have you," she finally said. "You're always thinking of ways to make us happy."

"Yes. I am sure the boys will appreciate having those storm shutters the next time it funders," he said dismissively.

"You know what I mean." She rubbed her hand across his chest. There it was – his heartbeat, a lifeline to her.

"Christine? Are you sure there isn't something troubling you?"

She shook her head. "It's only the storm. It must be pent up, nervous energy."

He grinned. "I know what will take care of that," he said, and tugged at her nightgown, exposing a shoulder. He moved closer and nibbled it playfully.

"See what I mean?" she said with a sigh. "You're always thinking of ways to make me happy."

Author's Note: This is the last vignette for the time being. I have an idea for a follow-up to this one, but haven't had the time to work on it. Maybe someday, when I'm retired? Hey, wait! I already am retired! ;-)

As always, thank you, everyone, who has stopped by to read these pieces of fluff. If you like what you've read, won't you take a moment and leave a word or two? Your reviews and comments are always a delight to read. Thank you. --HDKingsbury