A/N: It's been a while since I've been near fan fiction, but I was browsing through some old files and found this. A challenge PhyscoHippy gave me well over a year ago now – only she never wrote my return challenge, so I never got round to posting this. But I re-read it, and I like it, so I think it's about time to share :D. Anyway, the challenge pairing was Ted and Andromeda Tonks – Enjoy.

I open my eyes and sigh, my breath coming in a cold mist from my chapped chattering lips.

I blow at the last of the bubbles in the icy water, obliterating them as they fly, feather light over the placid surface of the bath.

Letting out an uncontrollable shiver I shimmer closer into his body, just as cold as mine, my numb fingers deftly scrabbling at his chest, toes curling, digging into him, my naked body moulding around him.

His stiff fingers move to stroke mine, touching the tips of each of his fingers to each of mine, one by one, all the while stroking his thumb against my palm.

I start to cry again, the salty warm tears sneaking down my face, falling off my chin, only to be lost in the arctic bath

"Do you think it's time we got out now?"

I shake my head, stroking my cheek against his shoulder.

"We've been here for hours."

I shake my head again, the sputtering candles around the bath reflecting stars off my sticky eyelashes.

"You're shivering."

I shake again, fingers clutching desperately at the flat plain of his chest.

We stay for another hour, the water getting even colder, our breath rising in thicker clouds, pushing closer and closer together, the cold water pressing in on us.

The last candle finally sputters out, and we are left, squatting in the dark and the frozen water.

He moves his arm, snaking it around my back, his other getting a secure hold under my legs. He then lifts me bodily from the water, the glacial torrent running off our bodies, crashing back down into the bath, splashing over the sides and skittering across the tiled floor. He steps out of the bath, my arms grip at him, my head buried in his neck.

He pushes through the swinging door and tries to stand me on the plush carpet. I stand but still hold onto him, making him stand with me. He pulls my arms from around his neck, and puts them at my side. I stand there and sneeze.

He takes a large white towel from the hanger next to him, and begins to dry me, brushing my lank hair back from my face, wiping the droplets from my shoulders, dabbing at my breasts. He sweeps the towel down, over my stomach and hips, then kneels at my feet, tenderly massaging each leg in turn with the towel. Turning me round he makes his way up my body on my back, running the towel in the groove of my spine, and then enclosing it round me, like a robe, pushing me gently in the small of the back, so I bumble clumsily toward the bed.

I sink down on top the soft sheets, discarding the towel onto the floor.

I bow my head, sitting meekly, my legs pressed together. This time when I cry it's loud and ugly. He stands in front of me, his hand cupping my cheek, I bawl into his hand, loud retching hiccoughing noises escaping me.

"I just don't want you to go!" I shout into his hand, I choke on my own words.

His hand rests on my shoulder and pushes me down into the soft covers, he leans over and kisses me on the mouth, pushing our lips together as hard as he can. He kisses down my neck, memorising every cord in it, down to my shoulder blades, touching them delicately.

He draws the rest of my body with his hands and lips, silently, only pausing to clutch my hand every time I let out another small choke.

I open my mouth to try to tell him that I don't know how to work without him now. But I don't, he knows I don't know what to do.

I open my mouth again to tell him to get under the covers with me. But no sound comes out.

I feel myself slipping away, through a void in the bed.

A loud gong runs through me and I start. Ted's hands feeling less and less real all the time.

Another ringing bell and he becomes faceless and blurred, like I'm looking at him through water.

I sit bolt up at the next wrenching clatter of the clock.

In the same bed I had just left, only no Ted.

The great chiming Grandfather clock still tolling, I swing my legs out of bed, running at the great ornate clock I grab the sides and wrench it from the wall, letting it plummet to the floor and shatter.