Yes, the rating has changed.

You know what that means ;)

Thanks again for the feedback guys. I will be tackling the issue of John having a drink in the following chapter, for those who felt uncomfortable about him accepting the brandy. And I know that on screen by the end of season 5, their relationship is shown to have progressed past the immediate aftermath of the assault, but as a supporter/sufferer of PTSD I know (sadly) that these issues can linger on and come back in fits and starts even when things are going well for couples, long after a traumatic event has occurred. It occurs to me now that this would, on reflection, fit better emotionally between seasons 4 and 5, and act as an au-type story. But we shall see how it progresses. Thank you for keeping on reading!

John woke early the next morning, to a cacophony of unfamiliar sounds. A brief peep out of the window revealed a slew of ducks and hens about their business, while horses clopped to and fro and men called about their business.

"I told you farming was noisy..."

he turned to see Anna, fresh woken, propped up on one elbow.

"Good morning," she smiled.

"Good morning. I hope it is a good one."

John moved to sit beside her, gathering up her hand.

"If I try to say sorry again, you'll tell me off, won't you?"

"You know me so well. So don't even try it."

Anna's eyes were sad.

"It's not what I wanted for our first night here."

"Shhhh," John leaned in and kissed her softly. "It's our first day here now. Let's make a new start."

Anna brightened at the prospect of a fresh clean slate. She wriggled to sit up in bed, reaching out to stroke her husband's face.

"So what shall we do with our first morning, dear one?"

"Well... I think we should have a discussion about that," her hand slipped lower, down over his shoulders, to stroke his arm.

"A discussion? Is that what this is?" he teased her gently.

"Well, if that's what you want to call it..." Pulling him closer, Anna kissed him, starting gently, tasting his lips, inviting him closer.

John's blood flared at her touch, and the taste and scent of her. God she tasted so good, but he had to know for sure.

"Are you sure this is what you...?"

"Yes. Oh yes." Anna's eyes mirrored is own internal fire.

That settled the question.

John's hand cupped her face, his fingers tracing around her neck, tilting her chin up to kiss her properly. The sensation of her tongue running over his lips, her fingertips curling through the hair at the nape of his neck, was enough to give him shivers.

"Come back to bed..." she said softly.

Within seconds, John's robe lay on the floor and he scooped his wife into his strong arms for a long and fulfilling kiss, which began softly and ended with Anna making soft moans of desire, her arms locked around him, pressed up against his chest.

"So this discussion we were having," John muttered against her skin, his kisses, slipping down her neck towards the base of her throat.

"Yes?" Anna's voice was barely a gasp.

"We could go out for the day? Find somewhere pretty and take a picnic?" His hand slid down her waist to the hem of her robe, fingers dipping under to run his hand up the outside of her leg.

"Uhhh..."

"Or, we could stay here... sit in the parlour, be decorous and read books, sipping tea..."

His hand found her waist, his thumb tracing circles around her hipbone as her nibbled and teased around her throat.

"Or..." he slid his hand around the top of her thigh, inching his thumb down between her legs. "We could stay here...right here in bed... "

Anna's eyes closed, her head tipping back, as her legs parted slightly.

"You like that plan, I see?"

"Oh yes..."

Brushing the pad of his thumb against the outside of his wife's sex, John relished her mewl of pleasure, feeling her writhe under his touch.

"And if I were to touch you here, like this, would that please you too?"

With one fingertip, he gently parted the folds of her sex, stroking against her entrance, knowing that she wanted him from the dampness of her flesh. Anna's arm locked around him, her other hand tangled in her own hair as she moaned incoherently.

"And this?"

With aching slowness, he slid a finger inside her, feeling her hips move instinctively. God she was so beautiful. The flush across her face, her lips parted as her breath rose and fell in time with his movements.

"God, John, I want you..."

He moved above her, wriggled free from his sleepwear.

"Now?"

"Yes, God yes, right now."

He slid into her, sighing into the curve of her neck, feeling her close around him, the most warm and intimate embrace.

Relishing his wife's legs wrapped around his waist, and the feel of her kisses against him as her rocked with her,John held himself up above her, looking down at her, seeing the rush of pleasure chase across her face, until eventually she moaned and writhed, loud and harder.

"Oh yes, John, yes!"

"Anna!"

It was all over. Swiftly, but ended with pleasure and with love. Her eyes met his and she was there with him, wanting him, riding the wave of heat and love back down to earth to join him.

Moving away from her, John turned onto his back, pulling her above him to nestle onto his chest.

"John?"

"Hmmm?"

"If we stay here, no-one will mind will they?"

"Not in the slightest."

She smiled down at him, leaning in for a kiss.

"Good."

…

A couple of hours later, after chatting, dozing and snuggling into each other, hunger played its part and woke them fully.

"I can't remember the last time I slept until I could wake up naturally," yawned Anna, reaching for her own robe. "What about you?"

"It was probably when I worked in Kirkbymoorside. When I was working in the pub. Sometimes I had a morning off. But I never slept that well."

"No?"

"No..." John reached out to stroke Anna's face. "You weren't there."

Pink about the cheeks with his compliment, Anna took the jug to go and find warm water to wash up before getting dressed.

John lay back and thought over the events of the morning. This was what he had longed to give her last night. And why he had found it so frustrating when the evening had turned sour and black. It was so hard to predict Anna's changes of mood. But he knew that she found it worse, not being in control of her own mind at times.

But there was no point in brooding. Bill had been right, there was so much sunlight in their relationship, when they were able to stop and find it. One pattern he had noticed was that Anna was more highly strung when she was tired, or feeling ill. Belatedly John realised that she had been ill and tired on the night of the concert. Perhaps that was a connection.

"Still in bed?"

A few drops of warm water landed on his nose and face.

"You little minx," he grinned at Anna, who put the jug down and turned to close the door.

"Come on you, the whole farm's awake. Time to go see about some breakfast."

Despite her commands, John couldn't help himself just sitting and watching for a few more minutes as Anna disrobed before him and washed using a damp cloth. She was so un-self-conscious about her body, he had always loved that. She was not affected in the slightest and that gave her movements such grace. Was this woman really his?

"John, do I have to tip this water over you to get you out of bed?"

John heeded the warning, and began looking out fresh clothes.