A/N: For Day 29 of Flufftober '23 - "Hey, wake up!"


Theo sat down at the edge of the bed and leaned over the sleeping form of her husband, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. A light sleeper, even that was enough to stir him a little – but he wasn't quite awake yet. That took another three kisses, trailing up his neck and along the side of his jaw.

He gave a low, rumbling murmur and spoke roughly without opening his eyes.

"If you've woken me for that, I'm unsure as to whether I should be irked or flattered."

She grinned – mostly because he was still capable of stringing together such eloquent sentences within seconds of waking. Had the shoe been on the other foot, she'd be able to offer little more than monosyllabic grunts. Most of them explicit.

"What are you leaning more towards?" she asked.

James breathed a chuckle.

"Intrigue."

Well, at least he hadn't tired of her yet. Hopefully he wouldn't be disappointed when she explained.

"Well, that will have to wait. Wake up."

"I am awake."

"Get up."

"It's too cold. And too early."

God, she never though she'd see the day where they'd swapped these particular roles in this conversation. He was right, though – the curtains were drawn, and only the slightest grey tinge peeked out through the tiny gap between them. The sun would not properly rise for some time yet.

"I need to show you something."

"Unless Sparrow is peering through the windows and demanding entry, I'd rather not," he mumbled. "If he is, I shall need you to fetch my rifle."

"Oh, it's far better than that."

"Bloodthirsty wolves roaming the property, then?"

"James," she groaned, dropping her forehead down to his cheek. "Just trust me."

Maybe she was playing dirty, but it was for a good cause - and how could he argue with her when she broke out the big guns?

She slipped her feet into her docs and pulled her cloak on over her nightgown as he rubbed his eyes and dragged himself from the bed.

"Am I permitted to dress?" he asked drily.

"If I had my way, you never would," she sighed – and then grinned at his good-humoured annoyance. "Breeches, cloak, boots. Don't worry, we won't be long."

As he woke up and adjusted to, well, consciousness, he became a bit less grumpy and far more curious. Although her giddiness probably helped with that. Before long, he was moving with that navy-born efficiency, and she was coaxing him down the stairs and out of the front door.

It was then that the source of her excitement was unveiled. They could see their own breath as they stepped out into the dawn, and torrents of snow flurried down around them from the heavens. It must have been going on for some time, for everything was entirely blanketed in it, where there had been little other than frost when they went to bed.

"I wasn't going to wake you, but I was worried it wouldn't continue on for much longer," she explained with a sheepish smile. "Not this heavily, anyway."

Her excitement didn't only come from her commitment to being a complete and utter tit. Back during their visit to Ireland, when she'd been busy revelling in the feeling of being truly and properly cold – which she'd missed sorely in the Caribbean – James had not shared her thrill at how the chill made their hands clumsy and their noses numb.

"There's nothing you missed about Winter?" she prodded. "Nothing at all?"

To her surprise, James actually paused to truly consider the matter, falling silent with his eyes downcast – like it was something serious, that would require a thoughtful and measured course of action. Then, finally, he responded.

"Snow," he said finally. "Not necessarily when it's merely on the ground – then it becomes a nuisance – but when it's actually falling. Heavily. Not a blizzard, just heavy snow. I miss that, I suppose. The way in which it looks chaotic, if you're gazing upon it from indoors, but when you go out into it and it's all about you, it doesn't feel so. It feels calm."

Theo stared at him, torn between disbelief and amazement. She hadn't expected something so…so beautiful. Then he added.

"It's like battle, in that respect."

Ah. There was her husband.

"Feel like walking into battle with me one last time?" she teased – very much hoping he remembered the conversation.

Because if he didn't, she really would look like a tit. But, to her relief, he smiled, and then he chuckled, shaking his head and following her out into the picturesque little clearing before their home.

"Any time," he all but vowed. "Every time."