A/N: This chapter is long. But I didn't want to split their day out. Hope you enjoy!

Saturday morning arrived quickly yet also seemed as if it had taken years to come. Seconds after her alarm had woken her from a comfy, deep slumber, the phone sounded again, jumping from her bedside table. Anna swiped the sleep from her eyes, squinting a little from the sudden, intrusive light of the screen. She ran a hand through her mussed hair while she opened the message. Reading it, she was filled with a warm thrill of excitement combined with a funny ache of anticipation. She felt her nose wrinkle in puzzlement and the cogs in her mind kick into action at once as her eyes raked over the few, slightly cryptic words over and over.

He wasn't giving anything away, aside from the time he wanted them to meet and a command to dress casually. Her fingers hovered over the enter button momentarily, poised to send him the reply she'd composed, playfully pleading for more information. A girl has to know a little more if she wants to be fully prepared. Like – is this a date…?

Hastily, she pressed down, deleting the text she'd written, and with a bounce, heaved herself out of bed. In a second, she'd flung open the tiny wardrobe at the foot, searching through the too few items of clothing she currently had in her possession for something suitable. Well, not just suitable, the entirely giddy voice in the back of her mind chattered.

As she pulled out a couple of choices, the phone buzzed once more, making her start a little as she gazed at the items deep in thought. Walking over to pick it up, her heart plummeted to below the ground. What if he's had second thoughts? I wouldn't blame him, I should have text sooner to cancel…

Her whole body calmed like a boat that had overcome the crest of a crashing wave and had now sailed into tranquil waters when she read the latest message. A smile shot up onto her face and her laugh echoed loudly in the silent room at the exasperation he'd expressed at forgetting to send her directions. Tearing her eyes away, she placed it lightly on the covers of the bed and looked back at the tops that were spread out there too, a finger curling around a strand of her hair.

This is crazy, Anna. You do know that? The other, more rational voice droned from the opposite corner. You'd never do something like this, not in a million years. Just stop and think about it for a minute.

So she did. And she could come up with absolutely no argument against it, her head overwhelmed with all the cases for. Maybe it was crazy, not having a clue how she was going to spend the day with a man she was only really beginning to get to know. But, perhaps, it was just the thing she needed. And she certainly couldn't wait to discover what was in store.

Anna stamped her feet on the grass, burying her chin further into her jacket and shivering slightly. It was grey, and a mist that was unusual for a morning in April was gradually ascending, melting away on the air. She stuffed her balled hands tight in her pockets, almost unable to feel the tips of her fingers. Her nose must have been glowing bright red. She felt her feet slipping just a little beneath her, her hands exposed to the chill too soon again as they flew out involuntarily, helping her keep her balance. Glancing down, she wished she would have decided to wear some other footwear. Her red Converse were now a shade of deep brown, caked from the toes in mud.

Sighing a little to herself, she cast her gaze upwards and across the fields. Dotted around there were groups of all ages, from over-confident university-age lads perfecting their corner kicks and fancy tricks, to boys barely old enough to have been in primary school, wearing shirts that swamped them, hurling bags of balls nearly as big as they were in size behind their backs. There were a couple of girls also, perhaps about twelve or thirteen, over to her far right, passing a ball expertly back and forth to one another, trying to catch the other out with a swift flick of the inside curve of their feet.

That's where she had gone wrong, she knew, the few times she had attempted to play football with her brother and his friends growing up. The rare occasions that the ball drifted into her direction, she'd always kick with the front of her foot, ending up not only thoroughly embarrassing herself with a poor excuse for a shot but getting very sore toes, too. Her dad would stop what he was doing, pottering about in the kitchen, and crouch down next to her, sitting slumped and sulking on the garden step, filling her head with consolations and important tactics. Just remember for next time, Anna Banana. Keep your eye on the ball, and the opposition. Don't get too excited. And don't use your toes if you want it to go far. She'd roll her eyes up towards him, completely fed up, but he'd simply smile. Then he'd give her a pat on the back, and a kiss on the head, and she'd feel a whole lot better. The buried memory brought a small smile to her lips as it surged back.

It's fair to say that watching football wouldn't have been her first choice, not at any time of day, but especially not of a rather chilly morning. Yet standing here on the edge of the field, her breath dancing upon the air as it left her in bursts, she was reminded of happy times from her childhood. She recalled the Saturdays that her dad used to round them up, both her older and younger brothers, her sister and her, and take them along to the match, in the days when Leeds were actually half-decent. It wasn't really that long, just a couple of years, until her and her sister lost interest and stopped going. The trace of disappointment lingered in her dad's eyes, even with his best attempts to hide it, with the sudden indifference of his girls.

Anna felt a sharp pang flutter in her chest, picturing vividly the same look in her mind's eye. Her brothers went on to many more matches along with the rugby and cricket, and her dad was thrilled to bits that he had someone to share it all with. That was the last time she had actually been to a match, as a child holding her dad's hand in the terraces. Otherwise it had just been on TV, seeming to play on a permanent loop in the background of her life, or occasionally on a screen in the pub, when Jez could be bothered to venture out.

She noticed that men had begun to gather in small groups of two or three not that far in front of her, a couple breaking away from either side to put up goalposts and separate the little patch of land off from the rest of the wide field. Despite the cold, all unzipped and cast off their jackets, revealing themselves to be clad in either bottle green or blue and black striped kits. Anna watched as they chatted and laughed and jostled, taking it in turns to crouch to the ground, stretching and flexing their limbs. She caught the eye of one as he jumped back up rather extravagantly, nearly losing his footing, and a tiny giggle escaped her before she fixed her gaze back to the ground, shrugging her shoulders.

It was more than a little awkward; she was the only one standing by this particular bit of the sidelines, and she didn't look up in case she found a group of parents staring at her, wondering what on earth anyone was doing turning up to watch this band of wannabe football players who were, all things considered, past their prime. But then the thought that she was the lone cheerleader amused and actually heartened her considerably, she herself thinking she was way past the age to play such a role and certainly not dressed in the right attire, in a jumper and jeans rather than a frilly little skirt. Still, she supposed that's what she was today, for one player at least. Stopping herself from bursting out laughing by pursing her lips together, she straightened up confidently, tossing her head back proudly, so much so that her ponytail very nearly gave her whiplash.

And there he was, out of nowhere, right in front of her again.

Her eyes scaled him. It always seemed to take forever; having him there before her emphasised the considerable difference in their heights, especially now that she was in flats. Yet she liked taking her time, appreciated the distance and sheer expanse of him. He was in green. Of course. She hadn't seen him in the colour before, but it was definitely one that suited him perfectly, even in a silky football strip. His shoulders seemed so much wider, and she found that she was rather disappointed that his arms were completely covered. But she couldn't complain for very long at all, not when her gaze travelled lower and she took in the sight of his bare legs in shorts. They were a touch longer than those the others were wearing but there was still enough on show for her to be satisfied, especially as his legs were much longer than anyone else's there. Much longer indeed.

"Enjoying it in your own little world?"

Anna shivered pleasantly at the sound of his voice. There was no way that he hadn't noticed her staring so lasciviously, she never was the most subtle. She let out a little laugh as she met his face once more.

"Oh yeah, the temperature is much more tropical there," she retorted, and he chortled in response. Watching him, everything about her softened instantly. A warm smile spread across her face, and her blue eyes glowed with a certain intensity against the dull day. "It's a good look on you." The words rolled sincerely and effortlessly from her tongue as she stopped squirming around, giving up the losing battle she was fighting against the cold. "Most men couldn't carry green shorts off, but you do it well."

"Most men of my age, you mean," he shot back instantly, quirking up his eyebrows teasingly.

Even though she knew he was playing, Anna was quick to defend.

"Come off it, that's got nothing whatsoever to do with anything at all."

He smiled at her, appreciation flooding his features. "Well, I know I'm no David Beckham, but I'm glad you think I look alright."

More than alright, she thought to herself. Anna waved a hand in front of her.

"Who needs Beckham?" she shrugged. "I was never that impressed."

"The only woman on this earth, then. Person, come to think of it."

"I could very well be."

She attempted to look very matter-of-fact, but had to grin when she saw the disbelieving look on his face. Honestly, if David Beckham happened at that moment to sidle up to her, she doubted she would have even given him a second glance.

"Well, you are a surprise, John Bates," she said, coolly. "You had me completely fooled. A football player masquerading as a publisher, I never would have thought."

"It's hardly up to Clark Kent's standards," he replied modestly. "And it's a good job I don't have to wear lycra."

Anna shook her head, not even daring to come back with a response. She regarded him as he turned briefly to look out over the field, watching his shoulder blades ripple underneath the silk of his shirt. When he looked back at her, he was smiling softly.

"I'm looking forward to watching you. You'll be man of the match, I'm calling it now."

He laughed, the smile still plastered upon his lips as he did so. "I'll be lucky if I can manage to kick the ball in a straight line. Really, the rest put me to shame. But God loves a trier."

Whatever he said, she knew that she would only be keeping her eyes firmly fixed on him. That's precisely what she was doing at this very moment. She was so engrossed and enthralled by him, she hardly noticed that her shoulders and arms were shuddering with a growing intensity. It was just as well that John did.

"Hey," his voice was a soft, concerned whisper as he leaned closer towards her, "you're shaking like a leaf."

For some reason, she looked down at her arms, held out just a little from her body in front of her, as if only at that minute realising they were there.

"Oh, god. I thought I was prepared, with all these layers."

"Come here."

All of a sudden, his arms were circling the space around her, and all she was able to feel was searing heat. His fingertips were soft against her arms, the sensation reverberating upon her skin like rain clattering on tin even through the layers of clothing, as he tenderly wrapped the heavy jacket he had been cradling in his grasp around her shoulders. She shuddered a little as he settled and smoothed the garment upon the blades of her shoulders, and almost started completely, having to pull the coat against her to prevent it from falling away when he flicked up the collar and brushed the pads of his fingers against the bare skin at the back of her neck. Just after he did so, his eyes locked with hers. Anna was certain that the world had stopped revolving.

Too soon, making her wonder if they'd even been on her at all, his fingers left. She heard him exhale sharply. When she looked up again, he'd regained composure.

"Better?"

She half-smiled. "Much."

Taking a tiny step back, she giggled nervously, encouraged by his own laughter. They were close to losing themselves in each other's little worlds again, before another voice cracked the blissful silence.

"There he is, all kitted out!"

Anna looked to the side to see Robert jogging across the grass, looking rosy-cheeked. Smiling towards him, she glanced back to John, and could have sworn that he was rolling his eyes just a little.

"Sorry I'm late, mate," Robert puffed as he arrived at Anna's side, his hands planted upon his sides. "My daughters seem to think I'm their own personal taxi service."

"It's alright, mate."

"Anna," Robert smiled at her. "How are you? Get home safely the other night?"

"I did, thanks to your friend here." She smirked up at John, who threw a wink back at her. "And I'm very well, thank you for asking."

"Good stuff. Well, we're certainly in for some amusement, anyway."

"Cheers for the pep-talk," John said dryly, before the shrill call of a whistle sounded and three pairs of eyes turned towards a rather stern, self-important looking figure dressed head-to-toe in black.

"Bloody hell, he takes himself seriously." Robert muttered to Anna, nodding his head to the amateur referee who John was now jogging towards, his opposite number from the other team ready and waiting with the ball under his feet. "Alright, John," Robert yelled, his hands cupping the sides of his mouth. "Show them what you're made of. And try to last more than ten minutes before getting sent off this time."

John simply shook his head at his friend on the sidelines, then his eyes drifted over to Anna. He gave her a small, certain smile that set her heart racing a little faster before he turned to shake the hand of his opponent. The whistle called again twice, and the game was underway.

Anna braced her arms against her, arching up onto her tiptoes and feeling a rush of energy flow through her veins, keen to follow each and every movement he made as ardently as any avid football fan would.

She had quite surprised herself by the enthusiasm that had swept her along the morning. By the end of the match, her throat was hoarse from yelling and screaming and the soles of her feet were aching from not being firmly planted on the ground but elevated instead, as she had bounced around like a jack-in-the-box for most of the time. Every time John had possession of the ball, and even when he didn't, she would go wild, cheering and chanting his name, throwing her arms up into the air. Robert accompanied her whoops with his own encouragement, clapping his hands, shouting and pointing out passes which remained oblivious to John, but he couldn't sustain his zeal on a par with Anna.

She noticed a couple from the other team flashing glares in her direction when they stumbled and had the ball stolen from them, thoroughly distracted by her efforts. She went absolutely crazy when he planted a kick firmly in the net, and almost completely lost any remaining composure she was still clinging onto when in the dying minutes of the game, one of the opposition writhed on the ground and the referee presented John with an entirely unjustified yellow card. Her shouts reached a pitch she didn't know she was capable of achieving, and as her hands flew out, some very colourful words spilled from her mouth. It was only when she flung her body round and saw Robert's wide eyes and startled expression that she caught herself, her face turning red.

Afterwards, with the result being a draw, both teams, with Robert and Anna in tow, headed to a nearby pub for some post-match refreshment. She'd walked past the pub in question a few times before but had never been in; it was on the small side, cosy, traditional. It looked as though it belonged on the outskirts of a village rather than in the middle of bustling London town, and being inside was like being transported to some haven where surroundings and time did not matter; all that mattered was the company that was kept.

They'd barely settled for long before a teammate of John's took to the small portion of floor that acted as a stage and led them all in a chant of a song, which was required to be punctuated at various points by some vigorous movements of particular parts of the body. Starting off slow, the chant gradually speeded up and the actions became increasingly raucous, until she struggled to keep up and instead flailed out her limbs entirely randomly. Near out of breath, she tossed her head to the side to see that John wasn't faring much better, just as uncoordinated as she was even though he clearly had previous experience of this particular game. Before the frantic end of the song, they'd collapsed in fits of wheezing laughter, Anna tripping over her feet and crashing into John's side, which only caused him to roar louder.

A couple of more sedate games followed and the hours had easily passed with the three of them sitting around a table tucked into one of the pub's corners. Robert arrived back from the bar, balancing the drinks in his hands as he heaved himself into his seat once more. He placed Anna's drink in front of her, and she smiled wide as they all raised their glasses, clinking them together in a toast for no real reason.

Having sampled his pint, Robert leaned back and piped up.

"Have you told Anna all about your near-miss at sporting glory, then?" he angled at John, before turning aside to Anna. "Any opportunity he gets, he'll talk your ear off about it."

John remained as modest as ever, as Anna's face lit up in expectation.

"I wouldn't go that far, it's nothing as big as that. Rob does like to exaggerate just a little on my behalf, which is quite worrying really." He pinched the air with his fingers while Robert chortled. "Like most boys growing up, I was well into football. I played for a few counties in Ireland as a lad, worked my way up the leagues, didn't too badly. Kept on playing for some amateur teams and as part of the academy in university when I came here."

Robert interrupted, staring up to the ceiling. "And then, he was plucked from obscurity…"

John laughed, shaking his head. "Well, I was spotted on campus one day, while we were playing a tournament match. I didn't even have a clue there was a scout there, but he was from West Ham. I had a lucky game, a couple of fluke goals, and at the end got approached to try out at some trials. I knew my mother wouldn't be keen on me jacking everything in for a pipe dream, but I thought I'd at least give it a shot. I was a young man, I had nothing to lose."

"That's amazing," Anna exclaimed brightly, taking a sip of her drink. "What happened?"

"This," John patted his right knee, now covered by his jeans but which she had noticed while he had been playing had been strapped up. "Second day of the trials, I was tackled horrendously and broke my leg very badly. Could hardly walk for a month or so. It put paid to any serious chance I had, there was no way I'd be able to play properly with it the way it was." The palm of his hand rubbed over his kneecap. "It still acts up now. But I can get by, play for fun, even manage a goal once in a blue moon."

"Oh, that's such a shame." She tilted her head to the side examining his covered leg, wincing even at the thought.

John shrugged. "I doubt I would have ended up playing for the Premier League or anything. But I suppose you never know what might have been."

He stared down at the table-top thoughtfully for a few moments, Anna catching his intent gaze carefully, before he smacked his hands together and lifted his head, grinning towards Robert.

"Talking of career changes, how's the restaurant coming along?"

Robert slumped, covering his forehead with one of his hands. "Right now, I'm choosing to live in ignorant bliss. Or at least trying desperately to."

John chuckled, shifting his body in his seat a little towards Anna.

"He's opening his first restaurant in three weeks, hasn't got a thing organised."

"Now, that's not strictly true," Robert interjected. "I have got the taps and tiles sorted." He ran his hand up his glass, wearing a sheepish expression and trying to avoid John's accusing glare. "Alright, that was because Cora chose them." He coughed nervously as a burst of John's laughter punctured the air. "It's just a bloody pain in the arse, I had no idea there'd be so much to do. I don't know how other people cope."

Anna nodded in Robert's direction, feeling heartily sorry for the stress that was written all over his face. "It is a tough industry. I remember at my old company, we had wars trying to get Heston Blumenthal's last place open in time."

Robert's eyes bulged from his sockets. He swallowed the drink in his mouth with a fierce gulp and then spluttered, struggling to catch his breath.

"You okay, mate?" Swiftly, John banged a hand against his friend's back, aiming to help.

"Yeah, yeah…" Robert took another, slower sip and coughed a few more times before he was able to speak with some kind of measure. His still wide eyes were fixed upon Anna. "You did Heston?"

"Mmm," Anna affirmed.

"He's my hero," Robert gushed, his voice thick with excitement. "You did his launch? Wow. That was a classy do, or so I heard. People went on about it for months."

Anna shrank a little. "Well, it was a joint effort. I didn't do everything."

"I bet you did more than most," John cut in, his eyes warm and smiling towards her. Her cheeks started to flare and her lips curled themselves upwards as her gaze stayed upon him.

"Do you think you could come down and take a look?" Robert was chattering away at her. "I mean, you know, it'd be great if you could."

She pursed her lips, not wanting to commit to anything she might not be able to see through, and feeling quite rusty having not done anything event-related for a couple of months.

"Three weeks is cutting it a bit fine," she said, tentatively. "I can't promise anything spectacular."

Robert shook his head vigorously. "I wouldn't expect it. It's not on the same scale as Heston." Once again, his eyes clouded over in a haze, and Anna nearly burst out giggling. She gave a nod of her head.

"Okay then, I don't see why not. Would Monday morning be okay?"

"Yeah, brilliant!" Robert exclaimed, nearly springing from his seat over the table towards her. "Oh, that's fantastic, Anna, I'd be eternally grateful. Heston Blumenthal! Wow."

Anna and John shared an amused look at one another while Robert was off in another daydream. After a few minutes, he shook himself, getting up a little unsteadily as his phone trilled in his pocket.

"Oh, Rob," John shouted as his friend made his way out of the door to answer the call, "Can I check the menu first? Not sure I fancy octopus pie with crème brulee or anything weird like that."

They both giggled as Robert made an uncouth gesture at John from through the window.

"Well, look at you, Miss Smith," he intoned with a rasp in his voice. "Got yourself a job."

Anna smiled in satisfaction, and more than a little disbelief. "Not bad for an afternoon out," she chimed, leaning her head back and her hands over the table. "It's been great, John. Really. Thank you. It's lovely here too."

His eyebrows quirked up. "You don't think this is it, do you? I did promise you the day."

Before the look of wonder could fade from her face, he pulled her up by the hand.

"Come on." His dark eyes twinkled. "I've got plans for us."

They spent the remainder of the afternoon first going for a walk through Ravenscourt Park, as the weather had cheered up considerably. Their stroll had worked up an appetite, and coming a little way out of the park they landed very conveniently by a spacious fish and chip restaurant, which was quite upmarket for such an establishment. The grin that covered John's features as he held the door open for her told Anna that going there was all part of his grand plan.

Staying long enough to enjoy a mini-feast, they tore themselves away and headed for the Tube station as the sun started to sink in the sky. It was dark by the time they had reached the Embankment, and slowly, not caring about where the time was flying to, they walked side by side across the great bridge, feeling the Thames flowing beneath the sturdy, enduring structure.

Casting her eyes out across the water, Anna saw the lights from the bridge bouncing off the black waves, the reflections setting tiny sparkles cresting and gliding, illuminating the night. She sighed contentedly. London by the water was always so beautiful as the day was drawing to a close, everything lit up and glowing, staving off the darkness long into the evening. Yet tonight, it seemed even more captivating to her senses. She felt as though the Thames itself was coursing through her body, all at once calm and crashing, making her feel alive like never before.

As they made their way down to the riverside, she chanced a glance at John, who was smiling roguishly at her. She hardly got the chance to smile back before he was trotting ahead of her, going further to the edge of the water. Anna stood where she was, at a safe distance away, utterly and thoroughly confused.

"John, I don't know if you should be doing that."

She pulled her hair loose from the ponytail, looking around cautiously and holding her hands out as if she could somehow stop him from climbing into one of the tiny boats that bobbed on the water's edge. It was to no avail – he was already standing in it, looking like a giant in the thing, balancing a little precariously.

"It's alright," his smooth voice assured her. "I booked it this morning." He beamed wider at her, his smile another light against the dark water. "Because you're a water baby, and all."

Anna was grinning so much that it was a wonder her face didn't ache. A hand flew up to her mouth, muffling her astonished giggles.

"Oh my god," she managed to stutter eventually. "I don't believe this."

John couldn't help but laugh at her amazement, stunned that he'd produced such a reaction in her.

"Don't tell me you've never been on the River before?"

She shook her head, the smile still plastered to her lips. "No, never. Not here. I've wanted to, loads of times. But Jeremy isn't great with water so we never…" Her gaze dropped to her feet, the perfection of the moment temporarily shattered. She cursed herself inwardly for spoiling things. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mention…"

Looking back up cautiously, she saw that he wasn't the least bit put out, his expression barely ruffled.

"You don't need to apologise." Even though his demeanour spoke volumes, he spoke regardless. Anna's whole body eased, and the delighted grin made a welcome reappearance. "It's all yours for just over half an hour, give or take a few minutes." He stepped forward in the boat, setting it rocking slightly, stretching his hand into the air towards her.

She took baby steps forward, her teeth gritting uncertainly at the capability of the tiny vessel and the little drop of distance she'd have to go to reach it. Inching at the pace of a snail outwards, she let out a snort of laughter at the frankly ridiculous way she was moving. Her hand hovered, grasping briefly at air before her fingers found his. A shot of static rifled through her as he laced their hands tighter together, and the shock sent her body jolting forward, sooner than she was fully prepared for.

Her feet stumbled and nearly flew from underneath her, and she took a sharp intake of breath to steel her before she hit the deck. Instead, both of his hands clasped onto her forearms, quick as a flash, catching her. Their feet, inches apart, wobbled in the little boat, but they were both still upright. Anna glanced from beneath the hair that had fallen forward over her face to catch sight of his ever reassuring eyes.

"It's alright. I've got you."

She thought she saw the words leave his lips a moment before he uttered them, and they stayed echoing loudly in her head and whispered into her heart.

He relinquished the grip of one of his hands upon her, and brought the other back to link in hers, less tightly this time, but the effect on Anna was in no way lessened. She smiled graciously at him as he gently lowered them both to sit down in the boat. Once they were both settled, he unfurled his fingers from hers and gripped both hands around the wooden paddles resting in the water at the side of the boat. He steered them out a little way, not far at all from the edge of the embankment, the movements of his arms fluid, steady and hardly making any effort.

Anna smiled, pulling the zip higher on her jacket.

"You've got quite the skill, Mr Bates." Her voice smiled as she said his name. "First football, now rowing. Is there no end to your prowess?" There was a mischievous note in her tone when she finished her statement, also reflected in the way in which she was looking at him from across the small boat.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked back at her, measure for measure.

"I've dabbled in my time. Not a great deal, but I reckon I could give the Oxford and Cambridge boys a run for their money."

The boat came to an almost still on the water, rippling gently beneath them as John put the paddles down. At a sudden loss, he planted his hands firmly upon his thighs and smiled at Anna, who mirrored the action effortlessly. She let out another serene sigh, tearing her eyes away from his for a few moments to glance round to the illuminated bridge at their backs.

"It's absolutely gorgeous, isn't it?" She inhaled the fresh, night air slowly, and exhaled in wonder, struck by the glimmer of the lights as well as the parade of stars that spanned the clear dark sky. "I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful."

She didn't notice the twinkle set deep in his irises, nor the little spark of a smile on his face as she stayed watching the scene awhile.

"It is quite a sight."

Bracing her heels against the wooden slats of the boat, she shifted herself back to face him.

"You're very thoughtful, John," she said, her voice full of sincerity. "You give out an incredible amount. With today, and everything."

The look on his face was almost bashful as he glanced down to seem to study the knots etched into the wood against the emanating bridge light. Anna noticed the slightest flush upon the skin at the hollow of his throat, and glowed inwardly. Gradually, he gazed back up to meet her eyes again, flooding with honesty.

"Oh, you're the same." He returned her compliment right back to her; it seemed to be the only way he was entirely comfortable receiving them. He chortled once, then his voice became lighter. "I saw you jumping up and down like a mad thing today. It spurred me on." His expression was animated, as much as hers had been previously in the day, and it made her grin. "In fact, I'm sure I wouldn't have scored that goal if it hadn't been for you, screeching like a banshee."

She giggled, shaking her head dismissively.

"I'm serious." His voice became even more emphatic and then dropped a few octaves, lowering to that tone that sent shivers running up and down her spine. "You're very special, Anna, and everyone around you knows it. And if they don't, then they're a fool who doesn't know what they're missing."

The deeper his eyes bore into her, the keener she felt the heat prickling upon every inch of her skin.

"Anyone else would fall to pieces with all that you've had to deal with recently." She could feel him getting closer to her, his words still low yet louder in her ears. "But you soldier on, don't let it faze you. You're incredible, really."

She gazed up to see that he had moved a little forward towards where she was, though there was still some distance between them.

"I've never met anyone like you…"

His torso and head inched nearer and nearer as he leaned into her, his warm breath filling the space between their bodies. She could taste his lips upon hers even as she drew herself back sharply, involuntarily. The stinging hurt look in his eyes couldn't be hidden, even amongst the night, and she felt terrible instantly. He had jumped back almost to the furthest end of the little boat.

"Oh god, John."

The horror washed over his face. "I'm sorry, really, Anna, I…"

She hurried to quell his fears.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just…you know, with everything, and…oh, god!"

She let out an exasperated screech, flailing her hands and throwing her gaze up to the dusky sky. When it returned to earth, she saw him looking at her so comfortingly that she near enough melted. She scrunched one hand into the crown of her hair, while settling the other on the side of the boat, sighing heavily.

"I get that this is an ideal kissing moment," she uttered softly, raising her eyes upwards again momentarily. "Everything's perfect. Night, boat, water lapping, lights, stars…"

And you.

She looked him in the eye as the thought didn't leave her mind, her breath catching slightly when she found him looking back intently, silent as he waited for her to finish everything she had to say.

"And I'm not feeling that it wouldn't be nice, because I'm sure it would be." Her face coloured, her hands fiddling in her lap. "You know, if it was any other time…I like you, John. Much more than I'm sure I should right now."

She was relieved to find him smiling, a smile that conveyed both deep understanding and an ardent reciprocation of her confession on his part.

"Honestly, I'm utterly hopeless when it comes to this." Her hair flowed upon her shoulders as she tossed her head back, rasping out a short laugh. "It's probably why I've only ever had two proper boyfriends."

"Get out," John tutted, shaking his head. "I don't believe you."

Anna chuckled, not really sure why she was doing so. "It's true. I had a few kisses with a couple of boys in high school, but it didn't mean anything. I had my first boyfriend when I was fifteen, and we were together until I came here for university. Then, I met Jeremy and that happened…and here I am." She tossed her hands out either side of her, shrugging her shoulders. "Nearly thirty, and absolutely disastrous at flirting, or seeing any of the signs."

"I don't know about that." He rumbled, and a million wings fluttered against the walls of her stomach. The tips of his fingers played against his chin as he tilted his head to the side. "There's no way your track record could be as bad as mine."

Her brow furrowed and then lifted, the look on her face telling him she was eager to know more.

"First proper crush, I must have been about ten or so, last year of junior school. Aileen, her name was. I was mad about her. Spent my entire time doing everything to impress her, including playing football. But she was having none of it. Her heart belonged to someone else."

Anna felt herself frowning deeply. "Who was that?"

He sighed, ruffling his hands through his hair. "Only the bloody Bay City Rollers!" he exclaimed loudly. "And don't make it worse by saying you don't know who they are."

"I think my auntie might have liked them," Anna giggled uncontrollably.

His mouth quirked upwards in mock-exasperation before letting out a chuckle. "All my mates were getting left for David Bowie, Marc Bolan…at least they had some credibility." He laughed a little longer, his breath dancing on the air. "That was the beginning of a long road. Every girl I ever liked never liked me back. They'd always want one of my mates, or my brothers…one girl even left me for my brother."

Anna gasped. "No."

"Honestly. We'd only been going out about three weeks. I had my suspicions, and to be honest, I was fine with her fancying my older brother." He paused for effect. "Until I went out to fetch something for my mam, and found my younger brother with his tongue down the girl's throat."

She had to stifle her laughter when she found him looking apparently sombre. "Oh, no."

John nodded resolutely. "I can't lie, it dented my ego. I refused to speak to him for, oh, all of two days."

Seeing the smile bloom soft and sure on his face again set the fire surging through her insides. He only broke it when he parted his lips to speak once more.

"So if we're talking about total romantic disasters, I'm afraid I can't be beaten."

For as much as he was joking, there was a trace of sorrow that could be discerned from the way he sat hunched up and also from deep within his eyes. He lifted his head marginally to look at her from under his brows, and he appeared more striking to her than ever, so honest and vulnerable, and utterly lovable.

Her voice lowered to a whisper as she leaned across the little boat unconsciously.

"I think you're better than you think."

Though time seemed to slow infinitely in those painfully sweet seconds, it still came as a sudden surprise to both of them as her lips crashed upon his, frantic with a rush of urgent desire at first but then growing slower, deeper, as natural as the ebb of the water flowing underneath them. Anna felt the boat rocking and shuddering at her side as her hand clung to the nape of his neck, the tips of her fingers snaking under the collar of his jacket while her mouth continued to work against his, the breath that was sucked clean from her body not missed or noticed as she was completely overwhelmed by the sensations that had been released in a desperate surge, having built up within her for weeks.

Eventually, she pulled herself back slowly, her eyes flickering open what seemed like minutes afterwards. They fell instantly upon his own, which were wonderfully bemused and delighted. Her fingertips hovered over her lips, almost as if she didn't believe what had just been.

"So…I kissed you." Her mouth remembered its other purpose, forming the words listlessly on her tongue.

"Hmm, I noticed that too." There was an unmistakeable ring of joy in his slightly dazed voice. "You weren't going to do that."

Anna licked her lips, feeling a renewed thrill spiral through her. "Umm, would you mind putting that down to a momentary lapse of concentration?"

John sniggered lightly. "Is that what it was?"

"No." She answered without hesitation, then faltered. "Yes? Oh…"

She tossed her hands up, covering them over her face, feeling suddenly shy. She made a helpless, inaudible whimper beneath them. Through her fingers, she peeked out to see his eyes still yielding to her and his mouth crumpled into a lazy smile, before he straightened himself up. He emitted a tiny sigh before he spoke again.

"I don't want to be a confusion in your life, Anna. I don't, truly." His voice was so measured and smooth; if she closed her eyes, it would bathe her completely. "God knows you don't need it. It's just that…"

Now it was his turn to falter. She noticed his large fingers fumbling, the knuckles flexing. Suddenly, he looked up at her, his eyes deep and searching. For some moments, she lost the ability to think, breathe, do anything other than stare into their dark pools.

He gathered enough composure to go on. "Something's happened to me since I've met you that I wasn't expecting." His words were so honest, that she could feel every single sentiment, and when he stopped to smile at her, her heart leapt. "And, I don't really…well…I wasn't expecting…"

He scrunched up his forehead, brought a hand to his face.

"Repetition of expecting. I must buy a thesaurus." He smiled to see her raising her shoulders and laughing melodiously. "Anyway, I suppose what I'm trying to say is…"

Before he could say anything more, she had jumped forward, covering his mouth with hers again. This kiss was more relaxed but contained no less ardour, their lips moulding to one another as by strokes and seconds they both sunk further, lost completely, swimming against the tide. Strands of her hair fell forward against her cheek and the tip of her nose, trying to put her off her stride, but before she could sweep them away, his fingers landed upon her face, strong and still somehow as light as a feather, ghosting over her skin and pulling her closer.

Their breaths stayed swirling, breathless as they broke apart. His thumb was still rubbing gentle circles over her cheek as his eyes half-lidded at her, observing the rosy glaze hazed on her fair skin.

"And what was that in aid of?" He rasped gruffly, his words warm over her face as he was still at such close proximity. "Putting me out of my misery?"

She wrinkled up her nose in delight, giggling as he caressed the curve of her jaw.

"Partly," she intoned, feeling happily light-headed. A wisp of a breeze was welcome, cooling the heat of her face and limbs. "But also because you needed to know." Her voice trailed off a little as she smoothed the tips of her fingers down his jacket. "Whoever they were and how many, they couldn't have kissed you before they turned you down."

She jutted her head forward, leaving a couple of light kisses upon him before he tugged upon her bottom lip and a whimper came from the back of her throat. She was smiling wide when she pulled back again, seeing the bliss on his face.

"I know what you mean, about feeling something happen," she breathed. "I've felt it too."

His eyes lingered, tracing the curve of her lips entranced, before they travelled up to meet her blue irises once more. The pout of his lips softened, and his hand dropped, curling around hers on her lap.

"Anna…"

"Shh," She placed a finger delicately, playfully over his mouth. "Let's not fuss or try to explain. For now, let's just let it be."

And so, with another kiss that had been waiting too long to arrive, the perfect surprise of a day ended perfectly.