A/N: *M* WARNING. BECAUSE HONEYMOON. THEY GOT DIRTY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, theymademedoit.
Well, now I know this fandom is an obsession. This past week, being away from it and all of you, except for snatched moments here and there, almost killed me. At the conference I attended last weekend (NerdCon: Stories), there was a quote from one of the speakers that I wanted to share with all of you, especially in light of Season 6 being the last in canon. CHELSIE ON!
"The whole point of fanfiction is that you get to play inside somebody else's universe. Rewrite the rules, or bend them. The story doesn't have to end. You can stay in this world, this world you love, as long as you want, as long as you keep thinking of new stories." –Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl
Charles checked the GPS, glad that he had turned the volume off. Elsie was asleep in the passenger seat. He smiled, glancing at her. It wasn't that they hadn't slept since Saturday…well, maybe not as much as they should have. And the flight this morning was early.
He hoped that she would like where they would be spending the next ten days. It was not particularly exotic, but the setting was beautiful. Their two nights at the hotel in the city had been lavish. Her reactions, and everything she had said, indicated she liked it, but he felt their honeymoon destination was more their style. Of course, there are little extravagant touches there, too.
A peaceful sigh escaped from his lips. He was so proud and happy Elsie had married him. Nothing was too good for her. But he did want her to be comfortable where they were staying.
"Elsie," he said softly. "Wake up, we're almost there."
"Hmmm?" She turned her head, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Sorry," she stifled a yawn with her hand. "Someone kept me awake late last night." She gave him a curvy smile. He grinned back.
"You also slept most of yesterday afternoon," he reminded her. "And is it my fault that my wife looked so enticing after dinner? Naturally, I thought it would have been a shame for her to wear another stunning dress for such a short time without me fully appreciating her in it-"
She laughed throatily. "Perhaps, Mr. Carson, you need to use a better choice of words. If I recall, you seemed to be much less interested in my new dress than getting me out of it!"
"That doesn't mean I didn't think you looked fantastic," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Besides, you were very enthusiastic helping me take your clothes off."
Giggling, she playfully slapped his shoulder. He checked the directions once more, making sure he hadn't missed a turn.
"I love your wedding ring," he said quietly as the road curved a line of mature trees. "I love seeing it with your engagement ring. It's a reminder that this isn't all a dream. This is our life now."
She kissed him on the cheek, caressing his face with her fingers. "I know. I feel the same." She settled back against her seat with a sigh. "I'm so happy, Charles. I never dreamed I would be this happy." She thought of one of her favorite lines from Jane Austen, and wondered if Elizabeth Bennett ever felt as well as knew, she was happy. They sat in contented silence for another minute before she spoke again. "So where are we going? Are you ever going to tell me?"
"Of course I'll tell you," he said. "But I'm surprised landing in Asheville, North Carolina didn't give it away."
Rolling her eyes, she rapped her knuckles against the window. "I don't know this area of the country well." She watched the trees, leafing in the spring sunshine, flash past. Mountains were visible in the distance. "This is beautiful."
"I'm glad you think so," he said. "We will be staying at the gardener's cottage on the Biltmore Estate."
"The Biltmore?" She turned to him, confused. "Weren't you reading a book about it after Christmas?"
"I was," he nodded, smirking. "I thought you'd guess my plans. The house is still a private residence, but they rent out the cottage for guests. It's on the estate. I thought it would be more our style. Unless," he glanced at her, "you'd rather stay in a 250-room house."
"I would not," she said, frowning, before her eyes brightened. "Although I suppose it would be fun trying out all of the bedrooms!"
He wagged his eyebrows. "Thirty-three bedrooms, Mrs. Carson? Who did you think you married? Casanova? I'm sorry to be a disappointment to you."
"You will never be that," she rubbed the back of his neck, "So the Biltmore has over thirty bedrooms? I had no idea!"
"We can take a tour of the house while we're here. If you like." He turned into the entrance to the estate and followed signs before coming to a stop next to their destination.
Elsie got out of the car, admiring the cottage. It was English-style, with several gables and a snug porch. A young dark-haired man named Tim introduced himself as the butler before carrying their suitcases inside. He then gave them a short tour before leaving, reminding them that he and the chef Colin would be back for dinner that evening. Elsie leaned against the wall in the comfortable living room.
"What do you think?" Charles asked, at her expression. "We'll be here for ten days. Colin's making dinner tonight for us, as well as breakfast and dinner on our last day. For in between, we can give Tim a list of what we want him to get for the kitchen." He sat down in a chair by the window and reached for her. "I know it's a lot, but when we go home, the only butler for you will be me. And I'm a poor one, by any description."
It felt like too much. She had accepted the hotel, and all its luxury, partly because she thought their time away would be more subdued. It wasn't that the cottage itself felt excessive; she liked its warm ambiance. But she was a simple person, and she didn't need much. She never had. She realized she was biting her lip, and stopped. Charles had a worried expression on his face. She swallowed. He had said they would make their own meals on most days. Maybe she was overreacting.
"They'll be here tonight?" she asked. "And on our last day here?" If it's only that, I can live with it.
"Yes," he said hesitantly. "I thought you would like it. If you don't want them, I can call and cancel." He played with his ring absent-mindedly. She took a step towards him.
"You misunderstand me," she said, her fingers locked together. "I don't mind them being here a few times. I just didn't know if they would be here every day or not. And," she tucked a stray hair out of her face, "I just feel like I don't deserve all of this. I am grateful," she said quickly, "very grateful, but I don't see how I could ever give you anything equal to this." Her voice cracked on the last word. He got up and put his hands on her shoulders.
"You are a proud woman, Elsie, and I would never take that away from you," he said, pulling her chin up to look at him. "It's one of the things I've most admired about you in all the time I've known you. Everything you've worked for, you've earned yourself. But this time together, while we're away, this is my gift to you. You marrying me is far greater than anything I could ever give you."
Her throat closed up, and tears threatened. She had never doubted his love. But his generosity was something she was not prepared for. She brushed away the wetness at her eyes. "If you're sure-"
"I have never been so sure," he whispered before leaning down to kiss her. They embraced for a long moment. She could hear the nearby river outside, and birds in the trees. The steady sound of his heartbeat thumped by her ear.
"I love you, Charlie Carson," she said. She gave him another squeeze before taking his hand. "Now," her eyes twinkled, "which bedroom do you prefer?"
"What about the one with the red curtains?" he asked. "It has the better view, I think."
"Hmmm," she smiled as they climbed the stairs. "I liked that one as well. But I don't intend to look out the window much while we're here, do you?"
000000000000
She woke to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Well, I didn't intend to sleep when we came up here, but I guess we both needed it. His arms were wrapped around her, his deep slow breaths puffing against her neck. She moved, trying to avoid it, but he only pulled her closer into him. Elsie turned and glimpsed his wild hair and bushy eyebrows. His eyes were still shut, but he swallowed, betraying his own emergence from sleep.
She managed to roll over until she was facing him. "Darling," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. She grazed his cheek with the back of her hand. "Husband." Charles turned his face into the pillow, but not before a ghost of a smile appeared. Continuing her gentle caresses, she whispered again. "Wake, a ghraidh." She kissed him languidly, pressing herself into him, enjoying the feel of him.
"I am dreaming," he murmured, wrapping his arms tight around her.
"What are you dreaming?" she whispered, the tips of her fingers running over his lower lip.
His eyes were still closed. "I am dreaming that an exquisite woman married me, and had her way with me. Now she is in my arms, and I dare to think that she wants me. In the middle of a Monday afternoon."
"This is no dream," she breathed into his mouth, making him gasp. "Now open your eyes, Mr. Carson."
If he wasn't fully awake before, he was after she kissed him. She could feel him through their clothes. Time to do something about that.
"Sit up," she demanded as she removed his socks. He obeyed, unbuttoning his shirt. She unbuckled his belt. He raised his eyebrows as he yanked his shirt off.
"You're being very bossy, Mrs. Carson," he remarked. She had divested herself of her own clothing in haste, and slid underneath the sheets.
"When we came upstairs, I didn't mean to fall asleep again," she said, pulling him closer after he kicked off his shorts. "I have to make up for lost time." Her lips found his again, her mouth open, her tongue tasting him. He groaned. Her face was shadowed by her hair, but she pulled back from him to smile at him. Her eyes were dark. She pushed on his shoulders, and he sank backwards into the pillows. She straddled him, hooking a leg around his hip. Charles threw his head back, looking at the ceiling.
"This must be a dream," he gasped as she planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest and lower. He ran his fingers through her hair. "Good God, Els-" he panted, his breath staccato.
She took her time, never taking her eyes from him as she drew out his pleasure. He shuddered against her, her soft hands holding his legs in place.
"I-I c-can't-" he stuttered. "Yes, oh God, yes, m-more, yes-"
She paused only long enough to speak. "Don't hold back, love." Moments later, he cried out, his body thrusting forward. She held him, her hands gliding over his thighs as his vibrations slowed.
After he had calmed, his heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm, he kissed her slowly as she lay against him. "That wasn't fair to you," he said, holding her close. He tousled her hair. "You received nothing from that."
She smirked, a gleam in her eye. "Oh, but I did," she argued, kissing his nose. "To watch you come undone, I love it."
"Then two can play that game," he said, grinning wickedly. He cupped her bottom, caressing her legs, then running his hands up to her belly. She tried to move his head down, toward her breasts, but he evaded her, touching her everywhere but the places she wanted most. His body vibrated in silent laughter as he moved his head, avoiding her attempts to kiss him.
"No," she protested feebly as his thumbs circled her thighs.
"No?" he rumbled. "All right, then, I'll stop-"
"No," she hissed through her teeth. "God, Charlie, touch me, kiss me-" Her voice faltered, lost in a gasp. He slid down until she was sitting on his chest. He pulled her legs around him, drunk on her sex. He could see nothing, could only go by touch, smell, taste and the sound of her moans. He lapped and sucked at her, teasing her with his mouth and tongue until she shattered once, then twice, at his touch. She still rocked against him, her keening lowered to a cry, when he turned his face oh-so-slightly, and caressed her center.
She was gone. The bed was gone, the room was gone, the world was gone. She was bent over, his hair against her breasts, his head buried between her legs. The first sensation she registered was her hand clutching the life out of the pillow. She rolled off of him, her chest still heaving, and stared unseeing at the ceiling.
Can't. Word. God. Yes. Good.
She trembled with the aftershocks and her body shook as if she were cold. He held her hand and lay sideways facing her.
"Elsie? Are you all right?" She nodded, her mouth open. She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. She tried to speak, and found to her simultaneous surprise and humor that she could not figure out how to process words. She started laughing.
He smiled and kissed her hand. "You're welcome, a ghraidh."
They snuggled together and slept again as the rain continued outside.