"Lucius! Open the door..." she knocked again, but there was no reply. "Look, I didn't know, I'm sorry, just-"

"It's not locked," he called tersely from the other side of the door.

"Oh... Isn't it?" Narcissa turned the handle, and flushed. "Well, obviously I didn't want to just barge in here, uninvited."

"Aren't you?" he snapped, taking a deep drink from the whiskey he'd apparently just poured himself.

"Your mother was dreadful to you," she told him earnestly, moving closer. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, you had nothing to do with it," he replied curtly, draining his tumbler and pouring himself another generous dose, refusing to meet her eye.

"Lucius," she sighed, reaching out to place a hand on his wrist.

"You're upset with me!" he exhaled sharply. "Damn it, Narcissa, you know I didn't want to leave."

"I know," she told him, grabbing his other wrist, as he had tranferred the glass to his other hand rather than shake off her touch. "If you really want to, I promise I'll never say another word about your tidyness."

"You know," he began, slightly defensive, "some people see being neat as a virtue."

"Of course," she assured him with a nod. "I'm trying, Lucius," she told him softly. "Every day."

"I'm trying to be... tolerable," he replied tightly, still unable to look at her.

"Oh, Lucius! You're wonderful. You are," she insisted, for her own benefit as much as his. She released his wrist and reached up to rest her hand on his cheek. Standing on her toes, she pressed a brief peck to his lips. He relaxed slightly at the reassurance, and placed tentative fingers on her waist. Narcissa moved closer, shifing her body so it rested against his, and laid her head on his chest.

He was scarred. It was probably too late for her to heal him completely, but she could at least try to comfort him. Perhaps all he needed, really, was a bit of affection. She didn't love him, though she hoped one day she might, but she was starting to care for him, and didn't enjoy his obvious suffering.

It can't be that difficult, she told herself firmly as she grasped his hand and tugged gently, indicating that he should follow her. His eyes were questioning, but she stared resolutely ahead as they exited his study and headed back towards their bedroom.

"Narcissa-"

She shushed him and closed the door behind them, locking it more for effect than any real purpose. He was hovering uncertainly, so she pushed him lightly to the bed until he sat on its edge.

Narcissa walked carefully over to her jewellery box and removed both earrings and her necklace, laying them neatly inside and closing the lid. She reached around to tap her wand to the back of her neck, and the buttons that fastened her gown quickly undid themselves. Moving purposefully to her closet, and she slipped the sleeves from her arms and stepped from the skirt, and hung it neatly back up.

Lucius's eyes followed every movement, hardly daring to believe, half expecting her to reach for a night robe and ask him to leave so she could rest. But she did not; she lifted each dainty foot from its shoe and placed the delicate heels in place before closing the closet door.

"Now that we have that out of the way..." Her tone was businesslike as she swept across the room, practically nude, to where he waited. His fingers twitched as though he was physically restraining himself from touching her, longing but not daring to lay a hand on the dip of her waist, the silk of her hair.

Come on, Lucius, she willed him silently, touch me.

But he didn't. His fingers curled into fists on his knees and his eyes burned for her, but he would not close the tiny gap that separated them. Not that he will not, she realized, but he cannot. "Lucius," she sighed, letting her breath warm his cheek, her lips almost grazing his skin. He would have to do this, she'd given him all the encouragement he needed, but if he wanted to recover from the insecurity and uncertainty that made thier relationship so weak, he would have to reach out to her.

But still, he didn't. She drew away and saw that his eyes were clenched shut and his shoulders were trembling slightly. His face was wrought with indecision; he wanted her, desperately, but couldn't bear for her to pull away again, give him hope and then decide she wasn't truly ready. Above all, he did not want her to feel that he was forcing her into this.

He will heal with time, Narcissa decided, leaning forward to kiss him. But not now, not yet. She would teach him that life was meant to be shared, that he was allowed to love her, that he was allowed to be human.

Tenderly, she increased the pressure on his shoulders. He sank back into the sheets and Narcissa followed close behind, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They should have had hours to lie in the heady after-glow of their love making, but real life prevailed. Draco would not nap terribly long, and they were both jerked guiltly out of their own light dozing by his persistent wails. Lucius made to rise but Narcissa was faster, untangling their bodies and rolling out from beneath the blankets. They dressed in hasty silence, and Narcissa feared that already the moment was slipping away. The thought of her own brazen behaviour threatened to make her blush, and after all, it was the middle of the day. Perhaps she should have at least waited until it grew dark? Never mind, it was too late now, and it hadn't felt awkward during the act, but-

Lucius turned around and the warmth in his gaze, the sedate, easy langor she'd never before witnessed in him, caused her to relax and smile. He grinned back, rather ruefully as his gazed flickered to the grand timepiece in the corner that indicated that it was barely past noon. Eight hours until he goes back to bed, his eyes seemed to sigh wistfully, and Narcissa could scarely stifle a girlish giggle as she went to collect their pampered son.

"Wait," he called as she placed her hand on the knob to the nursery. She turned back to see him hurriedly tucking in his shirttail, as he advanced. He kissed her briefly but cheerfully. "I'm about two hours late for an appointment with Ms. Bagnold, but I'll tell her there was an emergency. People should stop catering to the Minister of Magic anyway; especially when she's doing such a bloody awful job of running the country. I'll be back for supper," he promised, kissing her once more, and murmuring against her lips, so quietly she wondered if she'd imagined it, "and dessert, too."

"Good morning, my wife."

Narcissa was woken the next morning by a showering of kisses along her neck, jaw, and shoulder. She blinked sleepily but smiled, reaching over to touch his cheek. It was utterly endearing the way he said 'my wife', his eyes shone with a joy she wouldn't have ever guessed him capable of.

"'Morning," she mumbled, deciding she could very easily get used to a sunrise routine that involved snuggling as she nuzzled her nose to his chest. His hand drifted lightly down her arm, but when his fingtips brushed her side, she couldn't resist a tiny gasp.

For a moment he paused, confused, but then it downed on him and he smiled. "You're ticklish."

"Yes," she agreed. "Aren't you?"

The was another beat of silence, before he confessed, unwillingly, "I'm not sure."

Narcissa giggled. "Think I won't see through that? It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know." She drew back to see his face, but he was frowning. Her lips parted in surprise. "You really don't know! How can you not know?"

How could he know? her mind supplied immediately. Neither of his parents treated him playfully as a child, and she doubted anyone would have the nerve to touch him at school, let alone tickle him...

Pushing aside the wave of pity that threatened to ruin their morning, Narcissa placed her hand on his abdomen and let her fingers dart lightly. His eyes widened and he gave a brief chuckle. Narcissa crawled over him, pinning him down and moving her flitting graze to his sides, and he laughed.

Instantly, Narcissa was shocked into stillness, and this caused his laughter to dissappate immediately. It was heartbreaking to see how close his insecurity lurked beneath his happiness, as his eyes searched her face for a sign of what he'd done wrong.

"Do it again," she demanded, beginning to tickle him once more. A grin flashed over his features but he was concerned, and stilled her hands.

"Do what?"

"Laugh!" she exclaimed. His brow creased in confusion and Narcissa gave a little huff. She pitched forward to kiss him, waiting until he relaxed enough to stroke her hip in lazy contentment. Then, she attacked once more.

"Wha- Narcissa!" within moments, he was laughing again, and she felt her own giddy response to the sound- and what a sound it was! Rich and deep, from somewhere deep in his chest, totally unfamiliar to her. She'd never imagined his laugh before, but it was entirely extraordinary. She wondered if he realized how delightful it was; probably not, or he'd find reasons to do it all the time, if only for those around him to enjoy. Her own bright peals mingled with his canorous laugh, and she felt an unexpected swell of affection.

Perhaps this won't be difficult, after all.

(A/N: Lucius gets what he wants at last. Maybe it shall inspire many reviews?:) Pretty please?)