A/N: This prompt comes from cobertfan1 (thank you!).

For the first time since their wedding, Cora has to fly back to America for an urgent family or business matter. Robert is unable to accompany her, leaving him home alone. Robert does not cope well to being a bachelor for a week and decides that whatever matter is keeping him in London isn't worth it. He decides to fly to America, sneaking into Cora's hotel room in the middle of the night to surprise her

He understood, logically at least, why she insisted he stay behind. He should have been glad that his new wife understood the demands of his job; she, too, had grown up in an intensely business-oriented world and so it was not of particular surprise to her that he could not just pick up and take a few weeks off to fly to America. She had assured him that it would be fine—she would be fine—and that she did not mind going away on her own for a few weeks.

She had to go, after all. Her brother, her darling brother who had not managed to take any time off for their wedding three months prior, had managed to get himself into yet another messy situation. All he really knew, since the information filtered through Martha Levinson was slightly less than reliable, was that her brother had a minor skiing accident after a boozy midnight jaunt down the slopes. And so after two harried phone calls, Cora ascertained that the situation was more serious than not and that her presence was likely required. She'd rolled her eyes at Harold's stupidity, but he could tell she was worried.

It didn't make it any easier, though, to watch her leave. He'd driven her to Heathrow and walked her to the security gate, pouting every step of the way. She'd told him "not to act like a child just because it suited him," and then grinned before kissing him soundly on the lips. It hadn't been enough; watching her disappear behind the security walls was torturous at best, and when he returned home to their empty townhouse, it was utterly awful.

He hadn't thought it through, not really at least. The first two nights alone were rather a blur of television and beer. He'd grown so used to Cora's presence in bed that sleep without her there was impossible, so he'd tried to distract himself. But he'd grown completely obsessed with checking his phone, wanting to spend every free minute speaking to her, emailing her and checking in. Distracting himself by talking to his wife was not the best solution to his problem.

On the third day of her absence, he was dismissed from an afternoon meeting for texting—his mother having caught him for the second time that day. He supposed it was better to take the punishment from his irate mother than to explain that he had been texting suggestive messages to his wife, who was just as lonely as he. And going back to their still-empty home only grew more and more depressing as the hours and days ticked by. He ignored invitations for dinner from his sister and offers to meet at the pub from his friends; all he wanted was Cora. All his mind could focus on was Cora.

Which is why, on the fourth day, he found himself parking the car at Heathrow once more and hurriedly running in to catch a flight to New York.

Robert hated flying.

Though he'd grinned at the memory of his last flight—which had of course been exponentially better with Cora's presence—as soon as they took off toward America, he'd felt incredibly anxious. Four whiskeys interspersed throughout the flight did little to calm his frayed nerves, already on overdrive at the prospect of seeing his wife.

And so by the time they touched down at JFK, he was perhaps a bit less sober than he normally was. But luckily Elsie from the office had the forethought to book him a car to Cora's hotel when he asked her to arrange the booking. So, finding the man in the car line-up holding the sign labeled "Crawley" was not of particular difficulty. What was of more difficulty, though, was explaining to the hotel front desk that he was not actually on the booking and, yes, he was Cora Levinson's husband. He did manage to refrain from cursing his mother-in-law aloud for booking a room for Cora under her maiden name, but by the time he showed two forms of ID and made a call to "The Queen of Sheeba" herself to prove his identity and be shown to his wife's room, he was less than sober and less than amused by the entire situation.

But none of that mattered when the door clicked open and he spotted Cora reclined on the large hotel bed, the lights dim, but still bright enough so that she could read. And the expression on her face, a mixture of shock and elation, made everything else seem to melt away.

"—Robert?" Cora scarcely had time to breathe out his name in surprise before she launched herself off the bed and into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as she jumped up to greet him.

"Darling," he murmured against her neck, breathing deeply and feeling instantly more relaxed by the familiar smell of her shampoo and perfume. He felt, for the first time since she'd gone, like himself again.

After a few—well, more than a few—kisses, and once they were seated on the edge of the bed, Cora still clinging closely to him, she managed the more logical question of, "what are you doing here, darling?" Her voice was soft, and so very happy, as she reached up to run her hand over his cheek.

He shrugged playfully and batted his eyelashes. "I missed you," was the simplest and more truthful answer he could give. And, judging by her response, the answer that most pleased his wife.

Cora's eyes flashed with what he was almost certain to be mischief, though his fuzzy head—affected by lack of sleep and liquor—was not helpful in ascertaining such things. But she grinned at him, her fingers dancing over his shirt buttons as she replied, "you did?" and then applied her lips to his neck, humming with pleasure against his skin when he shifted to take her into his arms, pushing them both forward until her back hit the plush mattress.

The weight of her husband above her made her feel entirely safe, rooted to the place where just the two of them existed. She could tell he was a little tipsy by the way his fingers clumsily attempted to remove her blouse, fumbling over the tiny buttons running up the front. But the smell of his cologne, his nearness, the simple fact that he was actually there, had actually flown all the way to be with her, all conspired to make her less patient than usual. So, removing his hands and smiling indulgently at the instant pout her action produced, Cora deftly removed the last few buttons from their clasps and peeled off the shirt before taking care of Robert's sweater, leaving them both in a heap on the floor.

"How much?" she murmured, her lips drawing away from his mouth and down to his chest, teeth grazing his nipple so lightly he shivered in response.

Robert only frowned, lifting his head from where it had settled onto the pillows beneath them. "How…much?" He closed his eyes when she brought her hand up and her nails ran lightly over his other nipple, circling at a torturously slow pace.

"Yes," Cora purred, teeth meeting skin again, "how much did you miss me?"

He would have answered. He would have happily shouted from the rooftop of the hotel how much he had missed her—not to mention how much he'd missed this—but the swiftness with which Cora removed his belt and the clasp to his trousers caught him rather off guard, and when her hand slipped beneath the fabric of his pants, stroking lightly over him, he was regrettably unable to form any more sentences.

"I missed—"

"Ah—"

"Ahh…ahh—"

Unintelligible sounds were all he was reduced to, as Cora's hand stroked intently over him, having removed his trousers and pants and leaving them to join the pile on the floor. She grinned desirously up at him, after several long minutes of sweet agony, releasing him from her hold so that she could wrap her arms around him neck and pull him closer, kissing him passionately as he settled between her legs.

"Now," he finally answered, "as I was saying, I missed you terribly much, darling."

She would have thought him completely sentimental if not for the wicked grin playing at his features, and his hands already toying with the closure to her trousers. Though it still took him a few tries, he managed to have them unhooked and flung across the room with remarkable speed, leaving them both in similar states of undress as he began to kiss his way down her body.

Cora's skin pebbled as his lips pressed to her clavicle, her breasts, in turn, and then her belly. She was more vocal, her back arching up to meet his touch, panting with effort, when his fingers and lips converged at the juncture between her legs.

The sound of Cora's groans, breathy sighs of delight and the way her body moved beneath his touch was enough to make Robert lose his own head, but he focused on bringing his wife pleasure, gratified by the way her body shuddered, finally, tightening around his fingers, and then the soft way she nearly purred, "Robert, darling, please."

She gasped again, this time her voice mixed with Robert's own throaty moan of delight, when he pushed into her, his hands resting at her sides and her legs wrapped around his waist. Cora's hands came to lay at either side of his face, pulling him close to kiss him as he began to move, slowly at first but then with increasing speed as they both approached release. They quickly found a rhythm and

moved in tandem, kisses and touches bringing waves of pleasure over them both. His hand grasping her breast, fingers dancing over a nipple, her nails scraping up and down his back, the heady pleasure of their coupling was enough to intoxicate them both.

It was Robert who groaned loudly, finally, moving his hips faster for a moment before thrusting a final time with his release. Cora followed a moment later after he brought a hand to where they joined, urging her over the edge as well.

Collapsing back onto the mussed bed sheets, Robert drew Cora into his arms and peppered her face with kisses, hoping that each would relay how much he loved her and how very glad he was to be with her. Her body, limp with the effort of their exertions, felt boneless and pliant beside him, but the warm weight beside him was of more comfort than she could know. She only smiled up at him when he murmured her name, running his fingers through her tangled curls.

Silently confirming what he already knew—that she, too, was so very glad to have him there, she tilted her head up to kiss him once more and ran her nails lazily over his perspiring chest. He felt strong and solid beside her, and for the first time in days Cora felt like she could sleep as she lay her head on his shoulder. And very soon she did, both she and Robert utterly exhausted and sated as they slept with limbs entwined and hearts finally back under the same roof.