"-and his diapers are right over there, and make sure he always has his blanket with him, and if he starts to cry, you can try reading this to him, he loves the pictures, but if that doesn't work, he likes music, too, and-"

"Narcissa. Dear."

"-his bedtime is seven thirty, but sometimes you just have to let him stay up until eight or he'll fuss, and he loves being outside, but noises at night scare him, so don't be out too late, and he loves mirrors, too, he's just starting to be fascinated by them, so sometimes, if he's crying you can-"

"Narcissa, I think she knows. You've been over all this already. Twice."

"-take him to the one in the main parlor, because it's the biggest. Oh, and I almost forgot-"

"My wife thanks you very much for watching our son this evening," Lucius cut her off at last, nodding politely to the young woman.

"I don't see why Severus can't just-"

"Because Severus is a licensed Potioneer with duties that extend beyond childcare."

"I suppose you're right," she sighed, defeated, before turning back to the hired caretaker. "Have a nice evening, floo the restaurant if anything happens."

"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. You two have a nice evening."

Lucius steered her out of the room by her elbow, and Draco began to wail the moment they vanished from sight.

"Maybe I should just," Narcissa turned, looking wistfully over her shoulder. "Maybe we should just-"

"Narcissa," he murmured, capturing her chin in his hand and turning her face up to his. "I've had a very long, busy week, during which I've been mercilessly deprived of the glowing presence of my lovely wife. I have, however, seen lots of my screaming son at all odd hours of the night. Please. We're going to go to the Halcyon, fool around a bit on the way home, and walk through the door to find him screaming just as loudly as he is now, and the nanny in tears and declaring that she'll never come back. Just like the last five."

"He never cries when Severus watches him."

"And I'm not entirely convinced that isn't because Severus drugs him. Now, shall we go? They'll hold our reservation, of course, but Bayard will be expecting us, and darling, I'm quite famished."

"Yes, alright," she surrendered at last, allowing herself to be guided out the front door. "But only because you promised there would be fooling around."

He flashed her a quick grin, and lifted her into the carriage. "We don't even have to wait for the flight home, if you don't want to."

Narcissa laughingly accepted his kisses, but once they were both inside the carriage and the door was closed, he drew away. "But in all honesty, I feel as though we haven't spoken all week."

"Well," she agreed, snuggling up to his side. "That's true. And we have had sex. So I suppose we can wait." She let her hand fall innocently into his lap, grinning mischievously. Lucius gently lifted the hand, lacing her fingers through his.

"That's right, we have." He sounded almost chagrined, but Narcissa had made it quite clear that she did not mind when he stumbled in, past midnight, beyond eager to touch her. His movements were impatient and filled with a raw, hard need that made these trysts some of Narcissa's favorites. Most of the past week had been like this, but he had yet to wake her up in the middle of the night to chat.

"Tell me about your week," he prompted.

"Well, I spent most of it with Lyssa. She and Rabastan are trying for a baby, actually. No luck, yet, but they've just started. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they had a girl? And then she and Draco could grow up together, and get married-"

"Along that line, I've been thinking that we shouldn't arrange a marriage for Draco."

She stared at him, nonplussed. "Well, of course we shouldn't. Were we even considering it?"

"It's something of a tradition, in the Malfoy family. You and I-"

"And everything has worked out just fine with the two of us, eventually, better than fine. But we can't do the same for Draco."

"Well, yes, that's what I'm saying."

"Perfect, then." She kissed his cheek. "Now tell me about your week."

"Busy," he sighed, slumping into the plush seat cushions. Narcissa was surprise by the gesture, which belied his exhaustion, but he quickly straightened up, as though he realized he was showing some sort of weakness. "The Ministry is in an uproar, which is to be expected, but I never imagined it would generate so much paperwork. The Minister is convinced I know more than I'm letting on- as a rich Pureblood, she doubts that I haven't at least been approached by the Dark lord. Fortunately, she thinks I'm remaining relatively quiet for my protection from him, rather than keeping my true allegiance hidden. I need to present a respectable face, of course, but raids and missions are becoming almost a nightly occurrence. Not that I mind; none are more devoted than I, but..." he sighed again. "It's just been a busy week. I hate that Draco is asleep when I leave and when I get home, and I only see him at night when he's crying in his sleep. I hate that I need to fight for time to talk to you, that I don't have time to kiss you and make love to you and- if you'll pardon my language- all I've got energy for when I get home is a quick fuck and then I'm passed out until six, when it's time to get back up."

Narcissa scooted into his lap, pressing her lips to his throat. "I do miss you, but I understand you have things that need to be done. And I certainly don't mind the fucking," she teased, kissing his forehead and his tired eyelids.

He hummed in gentle approval, rooting his fingers in her hair and pulling her mouth down to his. He could talk all he wanted, but, so deprived as a child and young man, he could not feel that he'd fully expressed himself without some sort of physical emphasis.

"But it's not just fucking to me," he promised he quietly. "It's just all I have time for."

"I know, love. It's alright to be tired every once in a while."

He shook his head. "You make me happy," he confessed. "Everything about you. I love touching you," he admitted, "maybe more than I should."

"And why shouldn't you?"

"I'm concerned that I've become dependent on you. On holding you, or touching you. The only thing that's pulled me through this bloody awful week was knowing that I'd go home, and you'd be there." He worried that he was merely using her as an outlet for all of his stress and frustration, and even more so that he was fairly certain that he couldn't do without her, but Narcissa was flattered by his evident need for her.

"Look, we're here."

Lucius climbed out of the carriage first, offering his hand to assist Narcissa in her descent. They were greeted warmly and shown to their usually seat. After the customary visit from Chef Dureau, Narcissa folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile.

"The dress is new." She touched the low neckline flirtatiously. "Do you like it?"

"A bit prudish, isn't it?" he drawled. Narcissa shrugged.

"Stuffy company, what are you going to do? However, underneath this gown, I have something you'll like better."

He flashed her a quick, covert grin. "I can hardly wait."

Once inside, they were greeted warmly and led to their usual table. Shortly after being given menus, Chef Dureau swept out of the kitchens and snatched them away, declaring to be insulted that they'd even consider such a thing. After he left, they both settled into their seats, smiling.

"It is nice here, isn't it?" Narcissa mused.

"The very nicest," Lucius agreed.

"You're nice," she grinned. He chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair.

"I've been called an awful lot of things in my life, darling, but you're certainly the first to call me 'nice.'"

"Is that a bad thing? Would you prefer arrogant bastard?"

"It'd be less unusual," he drawled. Narcissa smiled in bemusement.

"No one actually calls you that."

"No, not to my face... cowards."

Narcissa laughed, leaning close for a quick peck.

"You make me happy," she whispered against his lips. He pulled back slowly, cocking his head to the side. "Narcissa?"

"Hm?"

He stared at her unfathomably for a moment longer, before sliding out of his chair and onto one knee.

"Would you marry me?" He stared up at her, eyes bright and sincere. Narcissa glanced around uncomfortably.

"Darling," she whispered, "we're already married."

"I know that. I'm not asking if you will marry me. I'm asking you, if things were different- very different- but I was as I am and you were as you are, would you choose to marry me?"

For a long moment, Narcissa was speechless. She couldn't fathom another scenario that would have brought them to where they were, but was hardly the point.

"Lucius..." she breathed, "yes. Of course I would. I love you."

Immediately, his face lit up into one of his grins that she so adored, and he slid the ring onto her finger so it rested beside her wedding band.

"You don't just think it?"

"No, I know it. It's different than before; it's more mature, and stable... I suppose we are adults, aren't we? But it's just so... right, isn't it? Everything just feels perfect. It's not like when everything was hormonal and impulsive..." She shook her head, struggling to express herself properly. "Everything is so clear now. I just... I love you so much, and it makes so much... sense. Everything is right, now."

(A/N: Until the next chapter...)