Him lying on his side and watching her face, she lay flat on her front. She preferred it that way, feeling the softness of the sheet against skin on the side of her head and the pressure of the mattress against her tired, satisfied body. Having just lit a tiny candle and placed it on the bedside table, he had returned to bed; and the warmth of the light fell on the exposed skin of her back, as his arm reached over to her and his thumb caressed the lines, the creases on the surface of her body. The feeling was tender, sensual and comforting in the stillness after their lovemaking. Her eyes moved up and met his, and the warmth between and around them seemed to swell. She felt her face press more firmly against the bedsheet as she smiled.

"I've turned you to religion, Mr Bond," she remarked wryly, remembering his words from earlier.

"I've turned you to love," he replied softly.

There was quiet for a moment, a very heavy quiet; the unasked question that they were both waiting for lingering somewhere in the following moments.

"I can't say that my conversion was all that permanent," he admitted. She smiled momentarily at his hesitation and his attempt at wryness and tact. "But did you mean what you said?" he asked her, his face very still.

"Of course I meant it," she told him, a little sharply. Though she had anticipated the question, she still felt a little annoyed that he even felt the need to ask. Perhaps she had lied to him before, but always because it was what there work had demanded of her, never a personal lie. Before now, they had never really acknowledged that there were personal lies between them to tell. "Why?" she asked, "Did you think I'd just said it because you'd given me the most wonderful sex I can remember? I didn't think we were going to be like that, James."

"I'm sorry," he told her, "But I had to ask," there was a slight pause, "I've heard it before."

She let out a heavy sigh, reaching her hand forward to brush softly down the centre of his chest.

"No, I'm sorry, James," she murmured, "I'd forgotten that you're new to... well, to this side of this side things, I suppose."

They exchanged a small glimmer of a smile, partly at the half-eloquent way in which she was trying to express herself, partly at the tiny sense of resolution they had reached.

"So you meant it, then?" he asked, not really posing the question, more trying to illicit the response he already knew from her lips again.

"Yes, James. I love you."

Bowing his head to her level, he kissed her softly and slowly on the lips. When the broke apart he was definitely grinning.

"What?" she asked, shifting to lie on her side too, facing him.

"The most wonderful sex you can remember?" he challenged her, "You meant that too?"

This time, she thought, he certainly knew the answer to the question.

"What do you think?" she asked sternly, running an appraising hand across his chest.

"I think there's a lot more where that came from," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, I do hope so."

Her arms drifted to his sides, hugging him close to her, her legs shifting open a little to twine around one of his, pulling them closer together.

"I think we have a lot to look forward to together," she told him firmly.

"Together?" he asked, "Obviously I know we're going to stay together like this," he told her hurriedly, seeing the flash of panic in her face as she misinterpreted his question, "But are we going to be publicly?"

She bit her lip.

"Perhaps I shouldn't be the one to answer that one," she concluded after a moment, "Or we'll be waiting forever for a decision."

"That's because you have more at stake than I do if people knew," he reminded her gently.

"You have your reputation to think of too," she pointed out, "Not necessarily the same kind, but I imagine you'll lose all credibility if it gets out that you're sleeping with an old woman like me."

"A lot of richer, more powerful men than me would gladly exchange places to wake up beside you," he pointed out, "You can't deny that."

"I don't, but they're all old and ugly and unforgivably dull," she replied, "Anyway, I think I'd have good cause to fear for my life again if people knew we were together. Every woman in London would want to assassinate me."

He laughed.

"And I'd have to save your life again," he finished for her, "And hold you in my arms, and kiss you."

She smiled softly, knowing what he was getting at as his hands moved to hold her a little tighter, bringing her ever so slightly closer to his body.

"So here we are, then," she surmised, a little ironically, "Two of the most envied people in the country."

They were still and quiet for a few moments, the only movement was of her head, leaning forwards to rest against his chest.

"I adore you, you know," she told him, feeling brave, "Whatever we decide to do."

"I love you too," he told her, "And you're never going to be alone again. You'll have me."

End.

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