"Was it really that bad?"

Turning at the low voice, Ruth saw Harry standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his navy dressing gown pulled tightly closed.

"Harry?"

Stepping into the room, he crossed to where she was standing; the mid-morning light casting shadows on her face.

"I'm sorry. I knew we should have waited. I'll make it up to you."

Bewildered, she looked at his crestfallen face. "Harry what are you talking about? Make what up to me?"

"It's alright Ruth. Really. While I had hoped it was alright...just..."

Placing her hand on his cheek, she stepped closer and pressed her lips against his, stopping him in mid ramble. Feeling him wrap his arms around her waist, she pulled back and looked up at him. "Harry, I'm the one who's suppose to be insecure the morning after. Not you."

"Technically it's the morning of not the morning after." He said, trying to hide his insecurity as his hand slid lower on her terry covered hip.

Warning in her voice, she brushed her thumb against his lower lip. "Harry."

"I woke up and you were gone, your clothes were gone, and I find you in the kitchen making tea with the washer going."

Smiling at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let her head cuddle into the bare skin of his chest. "You were snoring away and Scarlett was scratching at the bedroom door when I woke up a few minutes ago. I was planning on starting a load of laundry, letting her out, and then bringing us tea before you woke up."

"So I didn't ruin what we have by my poor performance this morning?"

"Jesus, if that was a poor performance for you than I'm in trouble. I've never...it's never...been like that for me."

"Really?"

Blushing, she shook her head no lightly against his chest. She knew if their relationship was going to work they would have to be open and honest with each other but talking about sex did not always come easily for her; especially right after the act. Sliding her hand under his the neck of his robe, she let her fingers trail down the skin of his shoulder, stopping when they reached the scar from when Tom had shot him. "No one's ever cared if I've been...fully satisfied...or not before they've been." she said softly.

"Are you saying you've never had an orgasm during sex with anyone else?"

Ruth didn't know it was possible to blush as red as she was as she shook her head into his chest, feeling his hands sliding down until they gripped her butt. Lifting her up, he turned until he could sit her on the counter. She pulled her head away from his chest and looked at him. A tender but smug smile covered his features as he nudged her legs apart to step between them. Lifting a hand, he brushed the hair from her face as his other worked the belt of her dressing gown loose.

"I think it's time for me to make it up to you for my lackluster performance earlier."

"Harry?"

"I'll be out in a second Ruth. Make yourself comfortable in front of the fire."

"Are you sure I can't help with anything?"

"If you take one step into this kitchen you're going to regret it."

"But Harry."

"Don't but Harry me. Go sit down in front of the bloody fire. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Deciding that pushing it any further would ruin the wonderful morning they had been having, Ruth turned into the front room and paused. In front of the cozy fire was what looked like every cushion, pillow and blanket in the house; stacked haphazardly to form a nest big enough for two. Curled on their own beds by the fire, Fidget and Scarlett looked up as she walked in then went back to sleep. Along the top of the impromptu resting place, the coffee table had been pushed closer and a pot of tea sat steaming between two tea cups. The TV; usually in the corner; had been moved next to the fireplace along with the DVD player.

Smiling she crossed to the front window and looked outside. The snow was still falling at a rate that made her cringe. While she loved snow small amounts were good enough for her. This was looking to be the monster of all storms. The weather man on the radio had given the latest update on the forecast with the snow continuing until early the next morning. There'd be a slight break from the storm but then the second storm brewing off to the west would move in. That was looking to be the worst of the two storms; a mixture of not only more snow but sleet and dropping temperatures. Shivering she let the curtain fall closed and turned back to the living room.

Harry had been busy while she'd been soaking in the bath he'd insisted she take. Not only had he confiscated all the bedding from the house and taken a shower in the guest bath, he'd seen to it that all of her things had been moved from the guest room to his; much to her displeasure in that he hadn't asked her first; started the fire and by the slightly damp fir still on Scarlett, he'd walked the dog again. Crossing to the cushions, she settled on the side closest to the fire; figuring that had been his plan as her pillow from the bed upstairs was resting at the top and her favorite throw from the reading room was lying on that side. Pulling the throw around her, she settled back into the pillows and waited; her eyes closing at the hiss of the fire.

Stopping in the doorway; tray balanced between his two hands; Harry watched her for a few moments. Her hair was damp from the bath he'd drawn for her the hour before after their second bout of love making in the kitchen. That was an experience he was unlikely to forget any time soon. Nor does he want to. Seeing her shift more into the cushions, he smiled and crossed the room, setting the tray on the table. Lowering himself onto the pillows, he lifted the side of her throw and slid under it, wrapping himself around her. Smiling, she turned into him, her head nuzzling against the fabric of his jumper.

"What took you so long?"

"I was making you breakfast."

Opening her eyes, she lifted her head and met his gaze. "You made me breakfast?"

"Yes. I can cook you know."

"Yes, tuna and crisps." she paused a moment, her eyes going slightly larger. "Please tell me we're not having tuna and crisps for breakfast?"

"Cheeky monkey." Sliding his hand down her back, he let it slide under the fabric of her knit shirt and to her side, his fingers pressing into the spot he'd found earlier; the one that made her squeal and squirm away from him.

"Harry! Stop!"

"Not until you take it back."

"No." Rolling on her side, she tried to escape from his moving fingers, only to find herself being tickled harder. Feeling the air leave her lungs from laughing too hard, she grasped his hand and tried to shift away.

"I'm not letting up until you take back what you said."

"Fine. I'd love tuna and crisps for breakfast. Now please stop."

"Thank you." Sliding his arms free, he reached for the tray and pulled it down to rest in front of them. "But we're not having tuna and crisps. We're having cinnamon French toast and yogurt."

"Bastard."

Fingers interlaced, they laid in the warmth of their nest; the credits of the DVD rolling to signal the end of the movie. Too content to move, Harry reached for the remote and turned off the DVD player, leaving the TV to quietly play the national news feed.

"Ruth?"

"Hmm?"

"You never..."

"I never what?"

"You never..." looking down, he saw her eyes were closed, a soft smile on her lips as she shifted closer. "you know what, never mind. We'll talk later."

Eyes slowly opening, she looked up at him. "I never what Harry?"

"The other night, you never got around to sharing what your biggest regret was. But don't worry about it, it's not important."

"Is your game of twenty questions really that important now that we've slept together?"

"Having sex was never going to be the prize for getting to know one another; it was just my way of trying to get us to open up more; to be honest with one another. Don't worry about it." Sliding his hand out of hers, he started to move away; needing to put some distance between them.

Sensing these questions were more important to him than she'd previously thought, she reached her hand out and snagged the back of his black jumper. "My step-brother." she said softly.

Pausing, he turned his head back and looked at her. "What?"

"My biggest regret. It's my step-brother. Or more to the point, what happened between us before I left that last time."

Not liking the way this was going, he leaned back into the pillows next to her. "Ruth? What happened?"

"Not that Harry."

"Okay. I'm not following than."

"You have to understand that even as a teenager I was not the most socially outgoing individual. I much preferred my books and music to parties and snogging random boys on street corners."

"Thank God for that." he muttered darkly.

Ignoring his comment for the moment, she turned and let her head fall against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart offering comfort. "So it should come as no shock that I was quite limited in the friends department. There was Charles who I had known for some years and a few girls at the boarding school in France but not many. It annoyed my mother to no end. I was her biggest disappointment; the quiet, shy daughter who much preferred Tolstoy and Austen to Versace and Chanel. She'd married my father so she could be the wife of a doctor; much more socially acceptable than the wife of a Navy man. Her grandfather had been minor nobility; a Baron; but he'd died with no sons and my grandmother had married a merchant so it ended there." Pausing a moment to gather her thoughts, she felt his hand slide up to hers and squeeze it; his fingers interlacing with hers once again.

"It doesn't matter Ruth."

"But it does; especially when you meet her. She can be awful and I'm sure she'll throw it out there that I'm only with you to annoy her; that I truly don't care about you. But I do. So much."

Handing squeezing hers he held her closer. "I know you do." Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against her hair. "Go on."

"They had me less than a year after they were married and my mother was beside herself. Not only did I ruin her figure and interrupt her social climb through volunteering but my father doted on me. As I got older it was my father who game to school plays and piano recitals while mother was off with some ladies club or another. It was bad when he died. She barely gave me time to grief before I was bundled up and sent off to a school in western France. I was eleven. That first year I wasn't even allowed home during summer break; she was too busy grieving. Instead I spent them with my grandparents. It was a good summer. I didn't see mother again until the following Christmas holiday when I was finally allowed home. I found out she'd gotten remarried to David; the Navy man she'd passed over for my father. He was now a respectful barrister who was more than capable of keeping her in the lifestyle she was accustom to. He'd a son from a previous marriage. Funny enough, his names Peter too. Anyways over time Peter and I grew close; it was so nice having someone close to my age; a brother I'd never gotten from my own parents. I looked up to him; idolized him. The perfect big brother. Apparently though, he felt more than that. The summer I was 16 Peter was 18. Our parents were fighting that year; I don't remember why but it was bad. Peter suggested we get out of there and we went to Blackpool; let them fight it out. And at first it was. But after a day he tried to kiss me. When I pushed him away he confessed his love and begged me to give him a chance. God. It was awful Harry. He didn't understand that I had never thought of him that way; that I only saw him as an older brother. It ruined the relationship we had along with any relationship I had with my mother. I went back to the boarding school for my last year and then onto Oxford. He joined the military. I've always regretted going with him that weekend because maybe if we hadn't, he wouldn't have tried anything."

Holding her tighter, Harry rubbed his thumb in a circle on the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry Ruth."

"Don't." Lifting her head, she met his eyes. "What's in the past is in the past. I didn't tell you all that so you'd feel sorry for me. I told you that so you know what you're getting yourself into. I come with loads of family drama and I'll understand if you want to run now."

"So do I. Are you going to leave me because of it?"

"No."

"So what makes you think I'm going to leave you?"

"You're not."

"Damn right I'm not." Leaning up, he grabbed her lips with his in a short but exploratory kiss. "My turn for a question."

"That's a bit of a conversation jump."

"Not really. Because it's really just a yes or a no and goes with what we were just talking about."

Nervous, she shook her head. "Harry don't..."

"Hush. I want to and you're not going to stop me from asking. Ruth Evershed will you marry me?"

"Harry I can't..." Feeling him tense under her and watching as his face fell, she saw him pulling away. Her first instinct was the same, jump up and run to another room; hide until he got over this; but she realized if she did that she'd ruin any chance of a relationship working and last between them. Reaching up, she gripped his face gently in her hands, holding it in place so his eyes met hers. "Let me finish. I can't say yes yet even though I want to. It's too soon."

"Maybe in normal relationships it's too soon but when has ours ever been normal?"

"Harry, I'm not going to doom our relationship from the beginning. We've been dating for a month. If we get married now it's going to ruin things."

"We're living together Ruth. In case you hadn't noticed that. As of this morning we're sleeping together both in bed and body. How would being married be any different than things are now?"

"That piece of paper would change everything and you know it. Can you honestly tell me that your relationship with Jane didn't change when the two of you got married?"

"That was different."

"Maybe it was but it doesn't mean things wouldn't change between us either." Moving forward, she let her forehead drop against his, her lips hovering a breath above his. "Six months. That's all. If you still want to ask me to marry you in six months, my answer will be yes."

AN: Sorry for the delay everyone - works been crazy and then family came to visit. My apartment is nowhere near big enough for family to visit for a few nights. But that threw off the muses. I apologize now if this chapter made absolutely no sense - it's been written in bits and pieces with stolen moments over the past couple of days. This does spell the end of January unless there's anything else you can think of that needs addressing before the jump to February. =0) Thank you all for the reviews; you're all the greatest!