Thursday morning arrived too soon, even though Jonathan and Gethin wasted as little of Wednesday night as possible in anything so mundane as sleep. Gethin staggered out of bed at quarter past eight and into the nearest jeans and shirt to fumble his way down to the shop for the pre-opening routine and to wait for Maeve.

Jonathan had murmured something about marmalade biscuits and turned over, when Gethin got up, not waking but leaving Gethin shaking his head and wondering if he'd heard right. Still, pondering the idea of biscuits somehow with marmalade in, or on them, kept him occupied until a tapping at the door at ten to nine and Maeve waving at him startled him to something a little more like wakefulness.

She breezed in.

'Good morning, Gethin, you look shattered, nice evening, then?'

He grinned and nodded. 'Yes, fine, thanks.'

'Right, show me what I need to do...?'

'It's all done, just these books here to go on the shelves, if you have a minute. Some new 'coming out' ones...'

'Okay. Right, you get yourself off, you look like you need a coffee, and I'll see you back down here at one, then.'

'Maeve, you're a treasure.'

Jonathan was up, after a fashion. He was leaning with his hands braced against the kitchen worktop, waiting for the kettle to boil, his head down. For a moment, seeing him like that, Gethin was worried.

'Morning, Jonathan.'

'Gethin, love.' Jonathan turned with a swift smile that grew into a bright, bright grin. 'Have you got any marmalade, by any chance?'

'For on your biscuits?'

'How the hell do you know that?' he asked, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.

'Something you said when I was getting up. Never heard of it before and I can run down to the corner shop for some...'

'God, you're nice. You haven't even had a coffee yet, have you? No, didn't think so, no used mug hanging around, kettle cold to the touch...' The kettle clicked off and Jonathan poured water onto the instant coffee in the cups. 'Here you are.'

'Thanks.'

'What you do, you get some reasonable biscuits – Malted Milk are good, you know, they have little cows on? Or Digestives will do, you spread one with a bit of butter, or some cream cheese, bang some marmalade on the other, marry them up and you've got a bright little sandwich biscuit to start the day with. You can do it with jam and Rich Tea, if you must...'

'Now, that I can do...'

'Gethin, my love, you're amazing! Let's see, then!'

The morning went too quickly, hastened on by lack of sleep and the need to lie down again after the biscuits, and more coffee, and breakfast, and far too soon it was time for Jonathan to sigh his way into his coat and hold Gethin close, his lips in his hair, breathing him in.

'God, I wish I didn't have to do this, Geth,' he said. 'And before you ask why, I'm beginning to wonder myself. It's very intense, you see, you have to pretend you're someone else so much of the time. While I'm in digs, I can sort of still inhabit that same little world, I can come out of it long enough to phone you, that's not a problem, but it's such a wrench, if I had to do it every day, it'd be impossible...'

'It's okay, like you've said, it's not for long, not really. And Friday...'

'Yes, Friday. Not that long, Geth-love. Tomorrow, in fact.' One last squeeze, and Jonathan disengaged from the embrace. 'I'll phone you tonight, when I'm back at the digs, it'll be after half nine.'

'I bet you still didn't get me the number?'

'No, it's here.' Jonathan smiled, searched pockets for a slip of paper. 'I sometimes need a bit of time to wind down after rehearsals, purge the part, sort of thing...'

'Okay.'

'Right. Well, talk to you later, see you tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow.'

'It wasn't so bad tonight,' Jonathan said over the phone later, quarter to ten, Gethin had phoned back after the first set of pips. 'I wasn't really concentrating, mind, but being tired, sometimes that's a good thing. If you learn your lines early enough, they seep into your subconscious, so you just tick along on automatic. At this stage, it's just lines and moving around.'

'No declaiming, then?'

'No, none of that pretentious Actory nonsense that puts people off. Listen, tomorrow, I'll come straight from rehearsals, but it might be after eight before he lets us go...'

'It's okay, I'll wait up for you.'

'Oh, I don't know... might be nice to think of you in bed...'

Gethin laughed, felt himself growing hot. 'Well, if you were to ring when you left the theatre...'

'Good idea.'

Tired as he was, Gethin still lay awake until after midnight, lying in Jonathan's side of the bed, holding Jonathan's pillow, and staring across at Jonathan's dressing table. It held his soul, Jonathan had told him, though what he'd meant by that was a bit of a mystery. But there it was, large and looming, a sold presence. 'It goes everywhere with me,' he'd said, and here it was, in Gethin's bedroom, so that was all right, then.

He stretched out, managed to reach one of the handles, gave it a little stroke.

'Goodnight, Jonathan,' he said, and suddenly, easily, he could sleep.

Friday passed, quickly to start with, a visit at lunch time from Peter, arriving just as Gethin was handing over to Maeve.

'Coming out for bite to eat and a chat, Gethin?'

'Yes, okay. Thanks, could do with a change of scene.'

'Bad morning?'

'Not really, think I'm just a bit tired, you know how it is.'

'Wish I did, darling! Gordon's had to go to Manchester for a works thing, I know it's not the other side of the world, but it might as well be...'

'Only thing for it, then. Bacon butty, let's face it, scampi and salad just isn't going to cut it.'

'And chips, can I have chips as well?'

'You are suffering, aren't you? Come on, Peter, tell me all about it, then?'

Over burger and chips ('I am so going to suffer for this tomorrow, but as I'm suffering now, I don't care!') for Peter and a bacon bap for Gethin, two mugs of builders' tea and copious ketchup, the story came out. Gordon had gone to Manchester for a works conference, but not before there had been Words...

Gethin nodded, letting the words flutter past him until something made him interested enough to start actively listening again.

'And it's not your fault, Gethin, don't think I'm saying that for a minute... but if you'd been a little more conciliating it probably wouldn't have happened... anyway, I don't know what went on between you two, but Gordon was saying Ivan was really upset, he didn't want to see you ever again, it was all lies, a mistake, he didn't know what that transvestite was playing at...'

'The transvestite was actually my assistant from the shop, Maeve, she offered to come with me. One or two of Ivan's cards were in Dutch, and she spotted it... I do like the bit about never seeing me again, though.'

'Well, I told Gordon, you hadn't said anything to me about Ivan at all, so I didn't know what he was on about... but that might explain how upset he was... and, interestingly, Gordon said Ivan had a flight booked to Amsterdam in a few days, I said it would do him good, a nice little holiday... so he isn't from the eastern bloc, then?'

'Wouldn't like to say,' Gethin replied promptly. 'Don't want to be accused of spreading lies or mistakes, all right?'

'Oh, get you! But Gordon wasn't happy and I will admit, I didn't quite like how unhappy he seemed to be. And I made the mistake of telling him... So he huffed himself off to Manchester yesterday, he won't be back until Sunday and... you do see, don't you?'

'I think so... you're worried, if it's a works thing, why's he not going to be back sooner?'

'Exactly.' Peter looked extremely sorry for himself. 'I think he's making a point. Still, at least, Ivan should be out of your hair now.'

'That can only be a good thing, but it's a shame about Gordon. You two seem well-suited.'

'Thank you, sweetie. I thought so too, and now I've gone and sent him off all het up.'

'Do you know where this works thing is? Could you ring him, perhaps? Or, daft as it sounds, send flowers?'

Peter managed a wan smile.

'You know, flowers might be the thing, but would they get there in time...? I do have the address, I could phone, I suppose. Or make sure the flowers are at his place when he gets back...'

'You know, if you want, we can go for that double date in a few weeks. Once Jonathan's play's finished its run.'

'That's a nice thought. How are things there for you? Oh, no, don't tell me, you've gone redder than the ketchup, lucky you!'

'It's nice, he's really nice...' Gethin found himself nodding. 'Of course, rehearsals, they're tough on him, but we're managing.'

'I am pleased for you, Gethin, sweetie, although I bet he takes some handling...?

Gethin said nothing, just stuffed bacon and bread into his mouth.

'Well, I know you're not one to kiss and tell, so I won't push you,' Peter said eventually. 'Anything else exciting happening?'

'Do you know about our book competition? We're looking for titles with double meanings...'

The bliss of no First Quarterers meeting that night, giving him chance to tidy up, to prepare for Jonathan's visit, him ringing at half seven to say he'd escaped and should be there for nine... time to have a bath run for quarter to, to brew a pot of tea, undress and get into bed.

And to wait until twenty past when he heard the street door slam, keys in the lock of the flat.

'Gethin?'

'Up here, Jonathan.'

'You remembered!'

Jonathan's delighted face appeared in the doorway. He was still wearing his beret, was half out of his coat, his blue and green scarf a banner trailing after him.

'Yes, of course, been thinking about it all day. Thinking about you all day, too.'

'And me, too much, used your name instead of one of the characters a couple of times, oh, come here and let me kiss you...'

'Unfair advantage,' Gethin said, sitting up and allowing the blankets to drop down to his lap. 'You're still dressed.'

'No, I'm not,' Jonathan protested. 'Well, hardly. Working on it. Give me a hand?'

'How can I resist since you ask so nicely?'

Presently, afterwards, Gethin shifted under Jonathan's weight, causing his lover to stir and kiss his neck; Gethin made only a token protest.

'There was tea brewing, but I expect it'll be stewed by now. And your bath'll be cold.'

'Don't really want tea. Bath'd be nice, if it had you in it. That'll bring the temperature up. But I think I just want to stay here for a bit, if that's okay? Long day really.'

Gethin ruffled the messy curls, bent his head forward to kiss the top of Jonathan's head. Jonathan nestled in, hugging and sighing out his breath.

'...love you...' he seemed to say, and suddenly grew very, very heavy. A few moments later, there were snores.

Gethin sighed and bit his lip. 'Love you?' No, Jonathan had been on the verge of sleep, it was on a par with marmalade biscuits...

'You too, Jonathan,' he said quietly, just in case he really had said it. 'Goodnight, cariad.'

He woke alone in the dimness, pushing up in the bed and his hand straying to the other side of the mattress. Still some warmth there, so he hadn't been alone long. The clock, when he found it, said ten to seven... early, really. Early enough for some proper time together before work.

He padded barefoot to the bathroom, comfort break, quick wash, dried his hands, noting that a glow from down the stairs told him a light was on somewhere. A squeak from a door downstairs.

'Good morning, Jonathan,' he called down.

'Good morning, gorgeous. Breakfast in bed for two coming up.'

'Wonderful. Want a hand with anything?'

'No, I've got it. You get back into bed; I'll be there in a minute.'

'Okay. If you look in the left of the cabinet, top shelf...'

'On my way...'

Gethin just had time to get into bed before he heard feet on the stairs and Jonathan appeared bearing a laden tray which he set down across Gethin's lap.

Tea in mugs, and a huge plate of Malted Milk biscuits sandwiched together with cream cheese and marmalade; Gethin laughed.

'You found the biscuits, then?'

'I did, indeed. I only used one pack, though.' Jonathan threw off his dressing gown and climbed into bed. 'Only thing is, dunking can be a bit of an adventure.'

Gethin shook his head.

'More of a cruncher than a dunker myself.'

'I'll remember that.'

They ate and drank in messy silence for a few minutes, the adventurous biscuits demanding full attention. Gethin wondered if it would be ill-mannered to make toast, later, because he wasn't going to get through a full morning's work on tea and biscuits.

'Sorry it was so late last night when I got here, bloody Tube... I was shattered, sure I went to sleep rehearsing my lines...'

'Lines, was it?' Gethin said with a wry grin, unable to help commenting. 'I should have known...'

'Why? Oh, God, what did I say...?'

'Last thing I heard was, 'love you'. Then you started snoring.'

'Oh, I see. Could have been worse, I suppose. There's a line somewhere about a... no, never mind. What time do you open today?'

'Nine-thirty, I moved it back half an hour.'

'Great stuff. So, I know you have to work... do you mind if I go and see the mother this morning? Only she'll be fretting, I've not been over since the spring cleaning, she hasn't got the number for my digs, I usually try to drop in now and again...'

'That's nice, that she wants to see you,' Gethin said quietly. 'That you want to see her...'

'Gethin-love, there's a story to tell there, isn't there?'

'Well. Not that interesting, really. Glad you have a good relationship with yours, though.'

'Okay, but if you want to talk...'

Gethin shrugged, busied himself with biscuits.

'If you don't want to talk, that's okay, too. Have you finished with the cow biccies? Good, because watching you eat them has had this strange effect on me, makes me hungry all over...'

'I think this new routine might be okay,' Jonathan said later, back for Gethin's lunch break. 'I mean, it's not as easy... so I shan't take you for granted, and it means the time we do have together is more precious.'

'There is that.'

'Besides, they say it's healthy not to live in each other's pockets all the time. Not that I know, not really; I've never found a pocket I wanted to live in that wasn't my own before, that sounds either terribly egotistical or rather creepy, doesn't it?'

Gethin laughed.

'We'll have to leave each other's pockets alone for a bit, I'm due back downstairs and there's that bloody meeting at two. You can keep me company in the shop if you like, or just take it easy. I know you've had a busy week.'

'I'll come down and flirt with Maeve, worry the customers... then I might rest up a little, save my energy for later. I'll need it, I hope...'

'Sounds fun. What do you want to do tonight, particularly?'

'Early dinner – I'll cook. Dancing, a few drinks, come back here afterwards and you can take advantage of me?'

'My kind of night. Lovely.'