It was late afternoon and Anastasia was starving. She'd barely eaten all day despite her being at home with constant access to her fridge. She just could not put her hands on anything she truly desired. Since she left for work morning before, she had felt that something was missing from her.

She sensed him even before the doorbell rang. Her entire body answered its call. Blood surging and mind swimming, she pulled the door open. He was inside her almost as soon as he was inside the house. Her back was getting used to being pressed against walls by now, she was learning to enjoy the roughness of his passion. Although, she did enjoy that he was still so precious about her, as though, despite his violence, there was a tentative fear in him that he might hurt her, that she was too fragile.

When they eventually separated they found themselves in the kitchen. "Can we cook something?" He asked her, somewhat enthusiastically. "I haven't used a kitchen in years."

She was still surprised by these small things he had been missing in his last couple of years of life. "Well what would you like to eat? I haven't been able to decide all day. We can go for a bit of a shopping expedition, my fridge is pretty boring."

The super market was busy for a Saturday evening. The bright lights and loud noises were a change of setting to their usual relationship. She was a little nervous about being able to contain herself around him in public. His presence anywhere just made her mind shut down to normal human interaction. She worried that the restraint in her movement would be noticeable but it was only he who noticed and she could tell from the look in his eyes that he was having exactly the same problem.

"So soup, yeah?"

"They have organic things here right?" He sounded almost panicked. "We can't eat vegetables that have just been covered in pesticides."

"Uh-huh, over here." She lead him over to the more pretentious looking forganic produce aisle. "So we need carrot and sweet potato and stuff right?" She confirmed, picking up a bag from the pile.

He had to stop himself from letting out a moan in the middle of the aisle as her fingers closed around the carrot. He so wished for her hand to be closing around something else at that moment. She held it up, ensuring it had no blemishes, then placed it in a paper bag. A few others followed it before she turned over the top of the bag, sealing it shut. She met his eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking. She winked at him, slipping her hand into his pocket, feeling that he was just as excited as she was. Public settings are no place for us, he was almost moaning in his head. As they moved to the dairy aisle she did not take her hand from his pocket and he did not complain.

"Yoghurt, butter, I have the rest at home." She was not so interested in the sort of yoghurt that was for sale here.

The line for the checkout bored them and by the time they reached his car their minds were elsewhere. She was trying to distract herself from the desire she felt to remove his clothing by trying to recite the soup recipe to herself. Carrot… sweet potato… chop… water… Christian… boil… puree… body… heat. She could not make anything quite flow without distraction.

When they got home she turned on the lights leaving a sparkling trail behind them. "That is such an unnecessary use of electricity." Christian shuddered a little. "Do you have any sort of solar to help with energy consumption?"

"Oh Christian." She sighed, turning of the hallway light as they established themselves in the kitchen. The rack of wooden spoons he had noticed on his first day with her cast an interesting shadow on the wide flat bench on which she had begun to chop the carrots.

"So what should I do?" He asked keenly.

She threw him the bag of potatoes. "You can peel them for us if you want." He picked up the peeler she had slid across the bench and began sliding it up and down, up and down. He could see her watching him as his hands moved. He continued the motion until he had finished the whole bag. The bench was covered in vegetable peel and spices. He found it strangely enticing.

After a while, the boiled vegetables went in the blender. Still a little excited about having access to appliances, he volunteered to control it. She was more than happy to put it in his pleasuring hands. Her stomach dropped as he pressed the button. The mixture pulsated inside the jug, thick, smooth, warm. He looked so proud of his achievement. She longed to taste it, the hunger she had been feeling earlier had escalated.

He was stirring the soup with a wooden spoon. The thick orange liquid swirled and gargled. He looked up as though he already knew she would be looking. Her dress had fallen to the floor seemingly of its own accord. His shirt and suit pants were quick to follow it, somewhat soup covered as the wooden spoon had not left his hand. The impact of the spoon to her body made her back arch wildly. He hummed and she cried out a little. Her hands clutched at his free wrist from behind her, pulling him closer, begging him to continue. The spoon came down again and again. She enjoyed this meal more than any that could have come from a written recipe.

He turned her towards him and thrust her backwards, the back of her body spattered with soup sliding easily over the bench top. The wide flat surface now supported both of their bodies as he threw the spoon down and began to paint her stomach with hot, steaming soup. As much as she wanted to simply eat the soup, Anastasia let her hands show him the gratitude she felt towards his acts. He slurped greedily from her belly button, the soup was perfectly seasoned, although it may have been the sweet taste of her body that made it taste as incredible as it did to Christian.

By the time they separated themselves, the bench had become so dirty that they were no longer brave enough to eat from it. They took their bowls to the dining table, sitting rather dramatically at opposite heads to each other. He watched her, her upper body vaguely wrapped in her dress, half eating half drinking her soup, he could not help but feel a little jealousy for her spoon as it ventured in and out of her mouth.

Alan sprang too the table and positioned himself between them, purring softly. "God, I hope she wasn't in the kitchen a minute ago." She laughed.

"I'm sure she was, that is the sort of episode one doesn't want to miss." His eyes glinted.