A/N: WARNING. M CHAPTER. THE CHARACTERS MADE ME DO IT. I AM SERIOUS, IF YOU DO NOT LIKE M, SKIP THIS CHAPTER. Ontheotherhand, ifyouwanttoreadaboutthemaincharacters, pleasefeelfree.

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The welcome breath of warm air met Elsie as Charles held the front door open. He shut it behind them as she removed her coat and hung it in the closet, then took his and did the same.

"That was a lovely Christmas dinner," Charles said as he placed his keys on the kitchen counter. He groaned. "I should not have eaten the second piece of apple tart."

"It was very good," Elsie agreed. She slid Charles's card to him and he stood it upright, the bright colors warming the beige counter. "Becky and the other residents liked it, which is the most important thing. And the fact that she was so happy to know she'll have a brother soon was the crowning achievement of the day!" Her eyes shone as she sat down on his leather recliner in the living room.

A warm smile spread across Charles's face. "I'm happy to have such a sweet sister." He admired the hand-made card with love. "She wasted no time after we told her to make me this beautiful card. Of course," he teased, "it may have been the fact that Santa Claus was coming at precisely eleven o'clock that made her hurry as well."

Elsie looked over her shoulder. "You know that Santa is always played by a volunteer, you could do that next year," her eyes twinkled.

"Are you saying I have a round belly?" he asked in mock horror. "I suppose I should not expect a kiss." He tried to look sad, but the corners of his lips turned up. His fiancée rolled her eyes, suppressing her own smile. She got up from the chair and wound her arms around her man. His lips tasted like apple tart and whatever seductive cologne his body radiated. His mouth moved over hers before it sidestepped to her cheek, then ended with a slow caress on her forehead. He pulled away reluctantly.

"I've got to get the roast in now, or else it won't be done until late," he reached into the drawer under the stove and pulled out the roaster.

"More food!" She groaned dramatically and flopped back onto the recliner. "I can't think about food again, at least not for another day at least!"

"Well," he said, his eyebrows wagging at her, "Perhaps we need to work off some of the last meal."

Elsie laughed. "That might help, yes." Unbidden, a yawn escaped from her mouth.

Charles finished putting aluminum foil on the bottom of the roaster. "Oh, I see. That's what you really think of my sexual prowess."

"Oh hush, you know it was a short night. I didn't get home until 1:30, and didn't fall asleep for hours. And then we were at Becky's by nine…"

"I wonder what kept you awake last night." His eyes danced. "Whatever it was, it kept me up for a long time, too. Really, love, if you're tired, go lay down. I'll finish getting this ready. Shoo, I don't need help. I'll only be a minute."

"I think I will go lay down." She stifled another yawn, walking down the hallway to his bedroom. She sat down at his desk chair and removed her shoes. She glanced fondly at the king-size bed. Whether they were here at his house, or at her condo, making love was a shared pleasure. But here they had more space than on her queen mattress.

The afternoon sun sparkled through the window catching a reflection in the mirror. She looked down. She wasn't used to it yet, her engagement ring. The diamond in the middle was small, the tiny diamonds on either side accentuating the ring's delicate design.

It was perfect. Suddenly, a nap was the last thing on her mind.

She turned down the bed and removed most of her clothing. She undid the clasp that held her hair up, letting it fall across her shoulders. She then sat perched on the edge of the bed, one foot propped on his desk chair, her leg bent at an exact angle. He hummed as he clattered away in the kitchen. She waited nervously for him to finish, afraid to get up and spoil the effect.

At last he came to the room. He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He stepped forward, like he wanted to come in, but he stopped himself. The sight of her in nothing but purple lace panties and matching bra was enough to do him in. He swallowed hard.

She saw a gleam in his eyes as he recognized what was in front of him. He leaned against the doorframe, tugging on his collar underneath the sweater he wore. The collar was enticingly open and she had to concentrate not to stare at the bare skin below his chin. He shuffled nervously, but she knew it was an act. He grinned.

"Mrs. Hughes," he rumbled in that devastating voice, "You're trying to seduce me." He quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

How he had tried cases for so many years in court without women – or men for that matter – falling to the floor in exquisite agony she would never know. Who's doing the seducing, Elsie?

"I hope I'm succeeding, Mr. Carson," she said, making sure to emphasize the r. A wicked smile spread on her face as she watched his expression. She knew quite well how her accent affected him, but this time, his eyes almost rolled back into his head. Reaching for her phone, she found the song she wanted.

"Oh dear," he said. "What's it to be? Joan Baez? Or are you finally coming round to my point of view and playing Glenn Miller?" He tried to smile, but he was so aroused he was having trouble remembering how to take his shoes and socks off. Or breathe. It was bad enough when she was fully clothed, much less now.

"No," she laughed. "Something much more modern. It's an ode to older music, though, so maybe you'll like it. It'll add to your scant knowledge of 21st century music." She put the phone down on the desk and got up from the bed, facing him. She put her hands on his hips and tilted her face up so that her breath tickled his chin. "I think even you will get the message."

"Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

You got the healing that I want

Just like they say it in the song

Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on…"

He removed his sweater in one motion and her fingers immediately worked at the buttons on his shirt. He slipped his hands on either side of her face, planting soft kisses on her hair and her forehead. Her fingers trembled so much it took her two tries to get the first three undone. He wasn't helping, massaging the back of her neck. She felt her heartrate skyrocket at the feel of his soft lips along her hairline. She let out a soft moan as his hands slid over her shoulders and down her back to cup her bottom.

"Whoa…

There's loving in your eyes that pulls me closer

It's so subtle, I'm in trouble

But I'd love to be in trouble with you…"

Somehow she finished with his shirt, and she pulled one arm out of one sleeve, then the other. He only let go of her to do so, replacing his hands around her face after his shirt was off. They kissed. She bit his lower lip, making him gasp. He began to mark a trail from her ear down her neck to her bare shoulder, biting and sucking her skin. She moaned, trying to maintain some composure, her hands sliding up and down his chest. He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she wasn't finished with him yet.

She dropped to her knees and unbuckled his belt.

"You got to give it up to me

I'm screaming mercy, mercy please

Just like they say it in the song

Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on…"

He took the name of the Deity in vain as she removed his belt and unzipped his khakis. He wasn't screaming. Yet. But mercy, mercy please, if she put her sweet mouth on-

"Shit, Elsie!" He roared. "Oh God, that's-oh, don't stop. Don't…fuck…" he gasped as his hips jerked involuntarily. He leaned over, grabbed her shoulders. "Els, please. I can't…" For a moment, he thought he was going to faint. Her tongue made a perfect circle on his hot, silky skin. "For f-fuck's sake! I can't st-"

She let go of his extended manhood and stood up. She removed her bra with one hand and yanked her panties off. Her own legs were weak, and she was trembling, frantic for his touch. She backed onto the bed, elbows first. He stripped off his shorts and followed her across the sheets on his hands and knees. She would have enjoyed the sensation of him begging, but she was not far from begging herself.

His tongue found the spot she loved, under her right breast, even as his fingers found her core. She cried out, and he was not surprised. She was wet, and her hips moved until his index finger was entirely hidden. He put his other hand on her belly, holding her down. His soft lips sucked at one nipple, then the other. His mouth moved down to her thighs.

She was vaguely aware that Meghan Trainor was singing, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand a word. Nothing existed except for his hands and his mouth. Her hands were thrust into his hair.

"Don't stop, Charlie," she gasped as his gorgeous lips feasted on her center. Then his tongue found her nub. "Oh God, yes- there, yes, oh God-"

"I just want you for my own

I got to have you…"

He was going to be in serious trouble with her if he did not do something soon. The scent of her was everywhere, dripping from his lips. She was panting, swearing, crying out a mixture of Gaelic words and something else, her fingernails scraping against his shoulder. He parted her beautiful legs and entered her.

"Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on

You got the healing that I want

Just like they say it in the song

Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on…"

Forget the dawn. He'd be lucky if he made it to the end of the song.

She was already keening a wild cry between a scream and singing. Then he thrust again, harder, and she really did scream. He shattered the barrier and pounded into her, feeling her body expand and contract around him.

She felt him move inside her, outside her, and she never wanted him to stop. Never. She never wanted to be parted from him. There was nothing, nothing at all except this aching pleasure that they shared. She could not control her body at all. Somehow she knew he was past control himself, that they were driven by something else, beyond both of them.

He cried out, then roared as he came inside her. For several minutes they moved together, then slower, coming down from their high.

Elsie was not sure she would ever come down. Had it really been less than twenty-four hours since he had proposed? And yet, in that short space of time, she felt the bond between them had increased a thousand-fold.

Like it was meant to be.

She didn't realize she was weeping until he sat up, removing himself from her. She hated that. She so loved it when they were one. All of her life, she had always thought of herself as independent. That had changed somehow, at a point in her life that she couldn't pin down. But she knew the cause of it was the man who lay beside her, sleepily sated.

"Elsie?" he said softly, still breathing hard. He rubbed his thumb under her eyes, catching her tears. "Are you all right?" He kissed her cheek, her forehead, her lips. He turned on his side, caressing her face with his fingers. "Tell me, love."

She turned towards him so they lay facing each other. She found his hand near her face and linked her fingers through his, wiping her face with her other hand.

"I am so happy, Charlie," she whispered when she could speak. "So desperately happy, my man. My husband to be." He smiled, so similar to the night before, and then she saw tears in his eyes. He chuckled.

"I never realized being engaged would make us cry this much," he joked. His chin wobbled as he struggled to contain his own emotions.

"You don't have to hold back," she reminded him.

"Oh, I know. I just don't want you to think I'm sad," he said. "Because I am not. I am the polar opposite of sad at this moment." He smoothed his hand across her hip.

"I would never think you're sad," she said as she moved closer to him. The soft hair on his chest tickled her breasts as she lay against him. She looked up, rested her chin on his shoulder. "The sounds you made were anything but sad, my darling." She ran a finger along the side of his face, feeling his stubble. She slipped it through his lips, pulling it back when he nipped it lightly. She gasped, her center twitching with need for him again. She lowered her head onto his chest, blushing. Even after all these months, what must he think of her? She could not seem to get enough of him.

His body vibrated as he laughed. "It's good to know," he chortled, "that you are just as mad for me as I am for you. It was all I could do not to throw you onto the bed!" He wrapped his other arm around her, caressing her back. "And you should not feel bad about crying, either. I thought you'd think me a sad old fool the first time we made love, the way I sobbed."

"Never," she stated firmly. "I don't feel bad about it," She kissed his jaw. "I was just…overwhelmed. It's still new to me. I am," she bit her lip, feeling the tears threatening again, "so desperately in love with you. I almost feel consumed, like I never existed before you, before us," she whispered.

He was quiet for a long moment. "I love you, Elsie." He shifted slightly, so that he could see her face more clearly. "When I cried after our first time, it wasn't just because I was happy. I was," he smiled softly before his expression changed. "I had lived almost my entire life alone. My work was my life, and for a long time I thought that was enough." He lifted her chin, his thumb soothing the side of her face. "I was lonely, more than I knew. And that moment, the first time, it was like…I felt my loneliness more keenly, because I finally understood what it felt like not to be alone."

"Oh Charlie," she whispered, tears falling freely. He kissed her softly.

"I was just a body passing through life, before you. Before us. I didn't find my soulmate," he said. His voice cracked. "You, my love, are my soul. It took me far too long to realize that." He cried as they held each other.

"What a pair we are," he chuckled through his tears. She giggled.

"An old booby pair." He wiped his eyes, trying and failing to suppress a shuddering yawn.

"Who's sleepy now?" she teased.

"Not you, I'd say."

"I'm pleasantly drowsy," she murmured against his chest. Moments later, he relaxed into sleep. She gently touched his face.

He snored beneath her, but she didn't mind. She was drifting into sleep herself, finally. She lifted her head blearily to see the clock. Three o'clock on Christmas afternoon.

Her phone buzzed on the desk. She wanted to leave it, but she hadn't heard from Beryl. She slipped out of the bed and checked the text. It was from Tom Branson, with a picture of Sybbie.

Merry Christmas to Aunt Elsie! Congratulations from us as well. I don't suppose Las Vegas is in your plans? ;)

She laughed under her breath.

Thank you. No plans made yet. Don't worry, I don't think Mr. Carson will go for LV, do you? Merry Christmas!

She climbed back into bed and wrapped Charlie's arm around her, and was asleep in minutes.

I'm going to go lie down. Obviously, there's something wrong with me because this is the second time I've written a naked conversation between them.

The song is "Marvin Gaye", by Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor. If you have time, please review.