One month. Four weeks. Thirty days.

That's how long they'd been back together, really together, reunited after such a long time apart. They'd been around each other almost every day during that long, cold year, and yet they hadn't really been looking, or talking, or connecting. It had been Bree pretending Orson didn't exist, and Orson pretending Bree still cared, both secretly believing their marriage was already dead. They'd discovered a month ago that it wasn't dead, just frozen. Now they were experiencing all the melty goodness of spring after a long winter. No more cold, no more still, just birds singing and flowers blooming. Happiness.

Bree had been keeping track of the days since they'd spent their second first night together. Their new start was very important to her, a milestone for a new, happy chapter in their lives. She smiled to herself as she walked from the car to her door, their door, and let herself in. Thirty days - was that worthy of a celebration? She thought so, and she'd gone to the grocery store to get something special to make for dinner.

"It's me," she called out. "I'm back. Oh, Orson! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

Bree smiled over the one heavy bag of groceries that she cradled in her arms. He was sitting in his wheelchair, next to the furniture in the living room. He'd said once that, sitting in his chair, he felt like furniture himself, a comment that made Bree very sad. He was smiling back at her now, however, his only response to her greeting.

"I thought you'd be in the middle of your therapy when I got back?" Bree wondered aloud, wondering why he wasn't replying. He had a funny look in his eye.

He couldn't speak. He had such a big surprise for Bree. He'd been planning this moment since the day they'd gotten back together, because that was the day he'd fully committed to his physical therapy, and committed to making himself walk again. Bree didn't seem to notice what he was doing at first, as he set his hands firmly on the arms of his wheelchair and began to lift himself up. It hadn't really occurred to her that he would try to stand, let alone succeed. And yet, she watched as he set one foot on the floor, and then the other, still lifting himself away from that dreadful seat. In the space of a careful, slow and steady fifteen seconds, Orson stood from his wheelchair, and his weight was then resting on his feet, and on legs that had been described as dead by more than one doctor.

Bree's face drained of all comprehension, to be replaced by pure shock. The bag of groceries fell from her hands. She'd forgotten she was even holding anything. Her eyes welled up with tears at the sight of her husband standing again. She could see, even through the blur, that Orson was having an emotional moment himself. He smiled proudly, for himself and also at Bree's unfiltered reaction to his big surprise.

"Oh, Orson." Bree said, breathless, pressing her lips together as she felt her heart about to burst.

"I'd walk over and hug you," Orson said sheepishly. "But I don't think I'm quite there yet."

Bree laughed, quickly taking the few steps that seperated them. She put her arms around him, and felt his arms around her, the love and happiness they felt for one another passing between them like it was tangible. She laughed again, a short spontaneous laugh to let out some of the joy that filled her because it would no longer fit inside.

* * *

Another month later, he could make his way around the first floor with the help of a cane. Stairs were still a challenge, but the fact that they were possible was what kept him trying. The first time he made it all the way up without help, he collapsed at the top of the stairs, and Bree ran up after him, afraid he'd hurt himself. It sounded for a moment as if he was crying, but when Bree got to the second landing, she found Orson laughing harder than she'd seen him laugh in years.

"I've never been so happy to see this ugly carpet!" Orson said between gasps.

Bree then began to laugh with him. "You picked this carpet!" she reminded him.

"I know!" Orson replied, falling into another fit of laughter.

* * *

A few weeks after that, Orson was ready to move back into the master bedroom. Bree had been spending every night with him on the first floor, but he saw the move as the final step toward getting their old life back. Bree went on another special shopping trip for the occassion, and it wasn't for groceries. When Orson emerged from the master bathroom, the full bathroom on the second floor, he found Bree standing at the side of the bed in a silk robe. Her smile was playful, and he felt the corners of his mouth turn up in response.

"You like it?" Bree asked, glancing down at her robe.

"I do." Orson admitted. He especially enjoyed the way it clung to the graceful curves of her body. She couldn't have been wearing much else behind it, from the looks of things.

"I think you'll like what's underneath it even better." Bree purred, using that bedroom voice she put on whenever she was wearing something sexy - or wearing nothing at all. Orson smiled even before her robe was untied, knowing that whatever she had on was going to be unbelievably sexy, if Bree was the one wearing it. Her robe hit the floor, and all expectations were blown away when he saw the lingerie she'd picked out just for him.

"Bree..." he said, in awe.

Bree's smile deepened. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her this way, but the romance, dressing up for him when she didn't have to, was what made it special every time she did it. Orson still reacted like it was the first time. There wasn't a cheesy burrito on earth that would keep them apart now.

"Come here." Bree said softly, because she knew he could. It wasn't quick, which was fine since he had such a beautiful view, but Orson made it over to her eventually. He put his hands on her body, and everywhere he touched came alive. She put her arms around him, and kissed his lips, and everything else came alive too.

"I love you." Bree whispered when the kiss ended. Orson looked down at her body, thinking of all the ways he was going to show her he loved her, and then he looked into her eyes.

"Everything about you is so beautiful." he said, and he didn't just mean what he could see in front of him. "The way you forgive me. The way you want to please me..."

"I feel the same about you." said Bree. She tried not to become emotional - this was supposed to be their hot, sexy time! - but she couldn't help it. Orson had her entire heart in his hands, just like she had his, and when he said these things to her she felt them deeply.

She let Orson guide her onto the bed. He took the lead this time, finally, after months of recovery. Finally, he could be the one on top, not to dominate but to repay her for all the time he'd spent on his back. They'd taken it easy during these last few weeks, since physical therapy would often exhaust him, but Orson was strong again, and hungry for her. After a few long, tongue filled kisses, Orson began to kiss his way down her body.

"Orson, you don't have to - "

His head popped back up, so it was even with hers, and he smiled down at her.

"You always think it's a chore for me." he said, amused. "But, darling...it's an honor."

Bree bit her lip, grinning as her cheeks colored just a bit. She'd really missed this. She sighed, nervous with anticipation, when Orson knelt before her, slipped off his t-shirt and relieved her of a very impractical pair of lace underwear. She let her legs fall apart gracefully, baring herself to him as she tried not to think of any others she'd given access to. He made it easy to forget; no one did it like he did. He put his mouth on her and made her feel like a scoop of melting ice cream, as if he were trying to catch every last drop. Bree moaned, raking her fingernails along his scalp as her legs fell wider apart. He pressed closer, deeper, settling in as if he could stay there forever.

Soon, Bree inhaled a shaky breath, running her hand through his hair and pushing him away gently.

"Orson, that feels incredible," she said, moaning the last word. "But...I want to come with you inside me."

Orson smiled and kissed the inside of her thighs, leaving the taste of her there so she wouldn't get a mouthful when he kissed her lips. He lifted himself over her, and she welcomed his form on top of hers. She wrapped her arms around his chest, and her hands slid down to the waist of his pajama pants as she kissed him, pressing her tongue into his mouth. She pushed his pants down just far enough to free him, and he lifted himself away from her to take them the rest of the way off. When he returned, covering her body with his, she let her fingertips graze every muscle on his back and on his arms, marveling at the strength she found there. He'd worked so hard to get back control of his legs, and she could feel it.

She could also feel him rubbing against her as they kissed. Bree found it difficult to take her tongue back and tell him she was ready, since it made her dizzy with pleasure to have his tongue in her mouth.

"Inside me..." Bree murmured when they stopped to take a breath. He responded, and as Bree lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, she felt him pressing into her. Her breath hitched in her throat as she let him in. She relaxed the muscles in her legs, and her legs moved gently as Orson rocked into her.

"Oh god-" Bree took His name in vain. She couldn't help it really. She had Orson above her, supporting himself on his reclaimed legs so he could push into her, again and again, while she laid beneath him. He leaned his forehead on hers, and she took his face in her hands. "Orson," she moaned. "That feels so good..."

Orson agreed. It was easy to mock the missionary position, but there was something undeniably special about it after not being able to perform it for so long. His hand explored the soft skin on her thigh, the thigh that squeezed his waist to urge him on, to press him deeper into her. He grunted as he thrust harder, a sound echoed by the soft, sweet cries from Bree's throat.

She concentrated on his lips so she wouldn't let go too soon. Those lips told her he loved her, so she looked into his eyes and told him she loved him back. She felt her orgasm coming, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as it took over her body. Orson felt her arms tighten around him as her legs fell apart. She clung to him, buried her face in his neck, and cried out because she could only control herself for so long. He was deep inside of her, not just inside of her body but inside her soul. She was taken somewhere else as he quickened his pace and finished her. As long as her climax lasted she was flying, away from the earth but still safe in Orson's arms, still, always, with Orson.

When she came back down, Orson was still going strong, and they both knew she might come again if he lasted long enough. He knew what she needed to make that happen, and he concentrated very hard to keep from finishing, focusing all of his energy and effort on the way he moved into and inside of her instead.

"Oh, Orson." Bree moaned deeply when she realized he was doing it on purpose, prolonging the pleasure for both of them. "Just a little more..."

He groaned, concentrating very hard. Bree's legs were squeezing him again, squeezing and then releasing, and her hands clutched at his back.

"Come with me," Bree whispered. "I'm so close..."

"Tell me when." he said, thrusting even harder.

Bree gasped. "Now," she said urgently. "Oh god, now..."

His response was immediate. His body tensed up, and he forced himself to keep moving so they could ride the same wave of pleasure until they were both done. They'd never come together before, not at the exact same time like this. Bree cried out again, her body shaking and filled with love as Orson emptied himself into her. Her back arched involuntarily, and she moaned wildly and without shame, her body and their bed rocking from his final thrusts.

A few motionless, quiet moments passed. Bree made a soft sound when he pulled out of her, before Orson collapsed next to her, having to catch his breath after such exertion. Bree slowly brought her legs together and turned on her side. She ran her hand over Orson's naked chest, and covered his mouth in a passionate kiss.

"Mm." Orson said, just lying there, exhuasted. "It's good to be back." he added when Bree lifted her head. She smiled, chuckling.

"It's good to have you back." said Bree. She kissed his cheek, settling down next to him, cuddling up to his side. She'd get dressed eventually. She just wanted to feel him for now.