A short and sweet piece inspired by this picture of Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf, who I reckon could totally pass for Oliver and Grace! ;)

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Annie was at school and Grace and Oliver, who had recently celebrated their second wedding anniversary, were taking a break from work and had decided to get in a bit of exercise.

Sitting at their desk all day was rather sedentary and they were looking forward to moving their bodies and getting their hearts pumping.

A game of tennis, they decided, would be perfect.

They went to change into their respective tennis outfits. Oliver was on the court before Grace was and when she came to join him, he couldn't help but give her a once-over with his eyes.

He cleared his throat as she strolled up to the other side of the net. "Does your skirt have to be that short?"

"If I want to be able to move properly it does. Otherwise it puts me at an unfair disadvantage and I know that you would want this to be a fair match, wouldn't you darling?" She batted her eyelids at him, twirling her racquet in her hands.

"I'm not sure it makes it very fair on me", he told her in a low tone, leaning across the net to get close to her.

"Well you'd better keep your eye on the ball instead of on me then, hmm?" She whispered into his ear before patting his cheek. She grinned at him wryly as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Your serve", she instructed him and he nodded stiffly, picking up a ball which he raised his racquet up and whacked across to her side.

She missed it and Oliver pumped his fist and pointed at her. "Fifteen-love", he smirked.

She furrowed her brow and tossed the ball back to him so he could serve again. This time when he did so, she returned it with a force that surprised him and he was unable to reach it in time. "Fifteen-all", she grinned at him and he huffed, retrieving the ball again.

Grace won the set, Oliver won the second. Both were breathless and hot by the start of the third. As Oliver served again, Grace ran to hit the ball back but tripped and fell to the ground. "Ow!" She yelped.

Oliver immediately ran to her side, his eyes wide with panic. "Grace, are you alright?"

"'Yes, but I think I've got a sprain", she sighed, rubbing her ankle.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Come on then, let's get you inside and we'll ice it", he said caringly as he scooped her up in his arms.

"Actually I'd think you'd better take me upstairs", she said, eyeing him hotly with a hint of a smile on her lips.

He glared at her, his mouth dropping in shock. "You're not really hurt, are you?"

Her smile grew and she shrugged. "Not really, no. But I've suddenly thought of a much better way to exercise."

He shook his head at her. "You wicked woman."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Are you saying you disagree with my idea?"

"Not in the slightest", he replied smartly and all but ran upstairs with her in his arms.

On that day, love turned out to be the highest score.