Mummy's Birthday, Daddy's Cuddles

Sunday 22nd October 2006

I heard the heating click on at six this morning. And I snuggled further down into the warmth of the heavy duvet, knowing that my son, my gorgeous son probably wouldn't stir for another two hours if I'm lucky. If I'm lucky. Of course I am. I let myself fall back into the depth of sleep with a smile on my face, knowing that I've actually reached a point in my life where I have everything I ever wanted. Just don't make me admit to becoming 37 before I got there. No, I was there the second I knew me and Dennis were gonna have our baby boy together. So, 36, thank you. And 35 when I got pregnant at long last, getting younger all the time, I am!

It's just, this is the first birthday I've ever celebrated as Sharon Rickman, Andrew's mummy. Such a perfect fact, all on its own. Dennis has been just as excited about this milestone as me, which I have loved. But he's been so set on taking me out somewhere, spending obscene amounts of money on giving me a special day, he kinda missed the point really, bless him. It's all I want to shut the door on my birthday and hide away with the perfectness that is my family; my husband and my son.

~*~

It was Dennis that worked at getting Andrew to sleep last night, said I shouldn't have to do anything on either side of my birthday. So I didn't. When Dennis bathed him in the bathroom sink, I stood in the doorway in my nightie, playing with the light cord and just... watching him. Watching how perfectly besotted he is with his son, falling in love with the image and feeling pretty damn good about myself at the same time. Cos I did that, I created that image. 

You know, the eight agonising hours I spent giving birth to our son, they were made worthwhile the second I saw his beautiful little face, looked into his smouldering eyes and realised - he looked just like his Daddy. No mistaking who this child belonged to. But it was even more worth it last night, to see the way Dennis held him so carefully, splashing the warm water over his little body, making him kick his legs out in the kinda delight it seems Daddy's best at creating.

Andrew's four months old now, give or take a few days, so full of smiles that'll make my stomach flip - another sign he is most definitely his father's son. I finally know what it feels like to be a parent, cos one flash of my baby boy's pink gums and smiley mouth and he's got me wrapped round his tiny little finger. I'd do anything for him.

"Hey-" Dennis had said, catching sight of me in the mirror. "-what are you doing there, you're supposed to be relaxing..."

"I'm relaxed!" I assured him, not looking at him because at the sound of my voice, Andrew's bright eyes fixed on me. I blew him a kiss, beaming and talking in that hyped up and gushy voice only a parent can. "Hello handsome! You having fun? Are you? Yeah... oh what a lovely smile for Mummy, thank you! Daddy got you all clean has he? Oh... clever Daddy."

"Thanks!" Dennis grinned, sending ripples across the surface of the water as he lifted Andrew carefully from the basin. "Up you come, little man, c'mon..."

"Have you got a towel for him?" I asked, already stepping back to go and get one for the airing cupboard.

Dennis had sighed despairingly and called out; "Honey, it's right here!" before I got too far. I'd turned around and perched on the edge of the bed, bouncing idly up and down in excitement as I waited for Dennis to come through. Andrew was swathed in the fluffy towel, safe in his Daddy's strong arms.

"Here he is!" I gasped happily, moving up to the end so that Dennis could lay him down on the bed. "My favourite guy!"

And Dennis had tutted as he'd unwrapped the folds of the towel and began drying off our son's tiny body. It's hard to believe he was so much smaller than this not so long ago. "I swear, you don't need me..."

I purporsely threw him a horror-struck look. "Dennis, course I need ya darlin', how else would he-" I nodded pointedly at Andrew, a proper little wriggle-bum on the towel. "-have got here eh?"

"Somehow, I don't know how, just somehow, that was quite sweet..."

Just one corner of his mouth curved up into that amazingly sexy smile and I stretched willingly up to kiss him as his lips came down to press mine.

"Mmm, good..."

Then I turned my attentions back to Andrew, leaning over him, never letting my eyes leave him, so captivated by the every detail of his innocent little face. I tickled his chest with the tiniest corner of the towel, drying off droplets as I went. His hands and feet went everywhere, making me giggle softly just to watch him. But the first real burst of laughter came when both me and Dennis looked down and realised Andrew's little hand, ready to grasp at anything, was wrapped firmly around his willy.

"Bloody hell mate!" Dennis snorted in amusement. "You're too young for that!"

I scoffed, having to be the one to prise off Andrew's little fingers. Dennis has no problem with changing nappies or giving Andrew baths, but otherwise, he says he just can't go "down there", cos one day, Andrew's gonna be a man too, and Dennis apparantly knows that he couldn't stand to have someone all over him at his stage in life - unless it's me of course, contrary bastard. 

But I was still giggling, looking down at my son's groin with interest. "Dennis..." I began thoughtfully, head cocked to the side.

"Yep?"

"Is it... getting bigger?"

He'd just smirked. "Don't think it needs to, does it?"

"Hmmm. Quite well... endowed isn't he, really?"

Rubbing talcum powder carefully between Andrew's little toes, Dennis grinned and declared; "Summat else you get off your dad innit mate?"

And Andrew gurgled, this innocent little laugh. Except there's no way it was innocent, it was too well timed and he is Dennis' son after all!

I leant down to Andrew, the ends of my hair tickling his face as I cooed; "Well, aren't you a lucky boy hmmm? Taking after your daddy, yeah! Cos that means you're gonna make someone out there a very happy girl one day, aren't you?"

"Sharon!" Dennis laughed, swooping down to pick up our son to carry him to the changing table, put a nappy on him and dress him for bed. "You can't say that to your own son!"

I gasped indignantly, pushing myself up from the bed. "I gave birth to him Dennis, and I think you'll find that earnt me the right to say whatever the Hell I want to him! And anyway-" I continued, playfully slapping his back as I came back from slinging Andrew's towel in the laundry basket in the bathroom. "-ten quid says you'll be having to talk to him about the birds and the bees before he's fourteen!"

"No!"

I stepped back, throwing him an odd look. "My husband... turning down a bet? I don't believe it..."

"Yeah well, your husband don't believe you'd actually be willing to bet on that... on our son!"

"Well, it's a safe bet isn't it? He's gonna be just like you... promiscuous!"

Dennis was so shocked that Andrew's leg almost went through the arm hole of his sleepsuit. "That the only thing you've got to say about me?"

"Course it's not!" I assured him innocently, moving round to disturb his concentration by kissing him again as he dresses our son. "I love you..."

"Hmph, cheap shot..."

"I really love you..." I whisper, pecking his lips softly, pulling him into a lingering kiss he can't fend off, even as he murmurs;

"I have to feed the baby..."

"I still love you."

He'd laughed softly at my assurances and pushed against my hips so I'd sink back on the bed and taken Andrew to make up a bottle and feed him in the longue. He finds it more soothing in there and anyway, we like him to be somewhere different besides the bedroom just before bedtime. He needs new things to focus on before he has no choice but to be in the same room for nine or ten hours.

And as I'd climbed into the bed, murmuring; "Don't be long..." I'd thought about how envious the other mums I've known would be to know that my Andrew does sleep that long of a night. Michelle was disgusted, told me neither Vicki or Mark slept above six hours at this age. But that's her, and this is me, so thankful of the time my son allows his Daddy and I - cos we can always think of ways to use it...

The duvet pulled up to my chin, keeping my lonely body warm as I sat up in bed, clock watching, it was almost twenty-five past eleven when Dennis crept back into room, cradling Andrew.

"Out for the count." he whispered, catching sight of me stretching up to sneak a peek at my sleeping son. "Look..."

It always makes me melt, the sight of Andrew sleeping; his little chest going up and down, his thick dark eyelashes stretched out. "Awww. You alright to put him down?"

"Course I am." Dennis smiled, coming carefully over to lean down to me so that I can lightly kiss our son's head.

"N'night angel..."

"Oh, he ain't.... so knackered, he kept forcing the bottle away, then crying cos he weren't getting any milk..."

"How much did he manage?"

"Three ounces, so he did alright really." I watched Dennis lie Andrew carefully down in the cot, drawing his blankets around him, tucking him in. "There you go mate, sleep tight OK?" Then he turned around and saw the way I was looking at him, so enamoured and laughed nervously. "What?"

"You." I said, reaching to grip his hand as soon as he was nearer enough, rumpling the duvet and pulling myself up to level with his gaze. "You're the best dad ever."

"No I'm not..."

"Yes you are. And you can't argue with me, baby..." I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his mouth fully at last, shivering in anticipation as he instinctively drew my body closer against his.

"Why not? It's fun."

"Lots of reasons."

"So give me them..." he instructed lazily, returning my kisses harder to my eager lips.

"I'm your wife-"

"-very good reason."

"It's my birthday tomorrow-"

"Even better reason!"

"Hmmm, yeah, well here's my best one... I've been waiting up for you..."

And I felt him grin against my kiss as his tongue danced in and out of my mouth. He needed no more encouragement which was a relief because at that one moment, there was nothing I needed more than him... him to make love to me. I love how he takes his time building each new and intense pleasure, torturing me in the bliss of our bodies together. Time passed perfectly, and I was snuggled sleepily down in Dennis' arms, content and at last complete when he bowed his head, kissed my hair and whispered;

"It's midnight..."

"So?"

"So..." He leant over and flicked off the bedside lamp, cuddling around me in the darkness. "...happy birthday baby."

~*~

I wake to the sound of Andrew grizzling, trying, just trying to cough out a lustful cry. It makes me jolt - it really pains a mother to hear her baby cry. I glance sleepily around the bedroom, but I guess I should have known Dennis isn't here, the delicious warmth of his body gone from against mine God knows when. Still, I let my head loll against the sunken pillow, hoping that maybe he will come in. But then I hear the thundering of water coming from the direction of the bathroom and sigh; there's no way he'd hear Andrew crying at even his best volume over that.

So I kick back the duvet and get up, pulling down my dressing gown from where it's hanging on the edge of the door and cover my shamelessly naked body, tying the sash with a satisfied smirk as I pad over to my son's cot, reaching down to gather him in my arms and lift him out.

"Oh baby..." I soothe, holding him up against my shoulder. "...it's alright. Mummy's here now, she'll sort you out." And I turn around, muttering; "I don't know what your daddy thinks he's up to but-"

As if by magic, Dennis walks in, absorbed in whipping a little plastic spoon around in a bowl of what the packet claims is banana cereal. He looks up fleetingly and when he sees me stood there with Andrew, asks, like he's a little stunned; "What you doing?"

"He was crying." I reply, rubbing Andrew's back. "What was I supposed to do?"

Dennis tilts his head up, releasing a quiet yet aggravated groan. "You weren't supposed to be up yet."

"Where were you?"

He nods in the direction of the bowl. "Mixing up the mush for 'im, wa'n't I?" Then he grimaces. "Seriously, I dunno how he can eat this stuff..."

"Well, it's not for you to know is it, you're not a four month old baby."

Grinning, Dennis moves past Andrew and me, putting down the bowl on the bedside table next to the lamp and turning back to me, arms outstretched. "Right, give him here."

"No, it's alright, I'll feed him, I don't mind."

"Well, I do." he tells me, stepping up to me and pulling our son from my arms, leaning over to kiss me. "Ran you a bath... should be full by now."

Smiling, I caress his face. I'm so bloody lucky to have him. "Well I'll go then, shall I?" As he nods, I lean down to kiss Andrew's soft mop of hair. "Don't forget his bib will ya, he'll get into a right state otherwise..."

"I was gonna give him a bath after breakfast anyway." Carefully, Dennis turns Andrew around so that he faces me, each of his little legs either side of his Daddy's arm as he sits up against his chest. "That is... if you don't mind us gatecrashing the bathroom..."

"Oh-" I purse my lips thoughtfully before I beam at my son. "-I think I can live with that can't I, gorgeous? Yes, Mum?" And Andrew gives me the first smile of the morning, amused by my gushing. "Yes Mum!" And I can't help but kiss him again. "Be good for Daddy darlin'."

But Dennis just laughs. "Fat chance. Isn't there mate? You're too much like your old man..."

I close the bathroom door after myself, inhaling the beautiful aroma of the thousands of bubbles that have risen in the tub, steaming. Lavender. Chooses well does my darlin'.

I shrug off my dressing gown, letting it fall heavily to the floor as I swing my leg over the side of the bath and cautiously dip my toes into the delicious warmth of the water. I sink happily down into it, closing my eyes, no room for thought besides how happy I am, how much I have. I keep hearing muffled snatches of what Dennis is saying to Andrew as I'm shaving my legs and it just makes me laugh. It's so damn cute, all the laughing and silly voices. He's as is in love with that kid as I am.

"Andy, that's not an attractive look mate, honestly. And if you've got your fist in your mouth, how am I meant to the food in for ya hmmm? Where's it supposed to go?"

"You're supposed to eat it, not wear it! Oh no, don't cry baby, you look fantastic. Yeah, your Mum'd be proud... so you want some more? More? Banana-nana-nana... mmmm! There you go..."

I suppose the rest of breakfast-time went off without a hitch, not that I woulda heard, chucking jugfuls of water everywhere as I wash my hair with some of my favourite strawberry shampoo. And I've slathered myself in body oil, letting it sink into my grateful skin and leaving it to the water to wash away the excess, lying there in my blanket of bubbles, as relaxed as Dennis would wish me to be, perfectly happy to just watch the steam rise and cloud the bathroom mirror.

"Sharon?"

Hearing the handle click as it is pushed down and the bathroom door opens, I sit up a little straighter. causing ripples in the water and yet still pretty much up to my neck in bubbles. Andrew, stripped of what I have no doubt became a very dirty sleepsuit, and then Dennis peak around the door.

"Hello!" I sigh happily at the sight of my two favourite boys in the world. "How was breakfast?"

Dennis grimaces, but then gives way to a burst of laughter as he confesses; "Messy!"

"Thought it might be." I return with a knowing nod. "So is His Lordship ready for a bath then?"

"Yeah. If you don't mind..."

"Why would I mind? Sink's there, Dennis, I'll have a fantastic view thanks."

He smirks, shaking his head in disbelief as he nudges the door shut with his hip and carries Andrew over to the sink.

"Actually..." I ask, hunching my shoulders as Dennis turns round to look at me, Andrew still writhing in his arms. "...can he come in with me?"

Dennis raises his eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Water's not too hot for him anymore and... it'll be fun. Besides, it's my birthday, so you can't say no."

Swinging Andrew gently side to side in his arms, making him gurgle, Dennis laughs softly, kissing his crown and muttering; "You know what, son, I have a feeling your Mummy's gonna be using that line all day."

I grin. "Would I?"

I'm answered only by Dennis offloading our son into my outstretched arms. I gasp and Andrew frowns for a second. Thinks his Mummy's mental.

"Did you like breakfast, honey? Oh, your Mummy missed you, yes she did..." Giggling, I kiss his unamused little lips, lowering him gently into the water.

Dennis just crouches down at the side of the bath, watching him as intently as I am. "Are you sure it's not too deep?"

"I'm not about to let anything happen to him, am I?"

"No, I know but... oh! Is that nice, mate? Nice and warm?" And as I reach down into the bottom of the bath for the flannel and begin washing Andrew's back, Dennis places his hand above him to ensure our son stays sat up and uses the other to playfully flick water at him. 

Andrew smiles, making both Mummy & Daddy coo in wonderment. And then he promptly sneezes, making us both laugh. "Awww!"

I make sure he's clean and then, bending my knees up through the bubbles, I rest Andrew back against my knees, his bright eyes darting between Dennis and me as we both look back at him, gasping and making stupid noises to make him smile.

"He don't look like he trusts us that much, does he?" I observe.

Dennis laughs, pumping Andrew's hand as his tiny little fingers lock fiercely around his Daddy's finger. "Nah, it's you he don't trust, look at his face!"

"Cheeky bugger!" I scoff. But then I look at his face and as ever, I melt. "That's what you are, Andrew Rickman, you're a cheeky little bugger!" And he beams. "Oh, that's funny is it? Is it? Yeah, your Daddy thinks that's funny too, don't he?"

"Hey, don't start on me..."

"Then stop smirking!"

"Fine." he huffs, before leaning over to firmly kiss my mouth. "I love you." he murmurs as he draws back.

"Good. Cos I love you too." But then our son steals my attentions once again as I play idly with his other hand. "Just as much as I love my little man... look at you, all smiley, you're beautiful!"

Without thinking, I scoop up a handful of bubbles and leave them atop Andrew's head. He looks like an ice-cream and I know it's that that makes Dennis burst out laughing as he pushes himself up to go and get Andrew a towel.

I've yanked the plug out the bath when he comes back and takes Andrew from me as I offer him up. Dennis wraps him up and takes him through to the bedroom to dry him off. I pull myself up and climb out the bath, pulling my towel from where Dennis left it warming on the radiator for me. I savour the warmth. He's such a darlin', if not welcoming of the chance to keep sneaky glances at me as I dry myself off in the bedroom too, unashamed to be around my husband and son, even if I can't help but accuse the former; "You're such a perv."

But his mouth gapes and he is indignant as he glances pointedly down at Andrew. "Do I try and ram your nipple in my mouth?"

"He's a baby."

"Yeah right." Dennis scoffs, beginning to dress him in an adorable little pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt that has a cheeky slogan emblazoned across it that seems like it was made for him.

You don't have to stare - I KNOW I'm gorgeous!

"It's any bloody excuse innit, Andy, eh?" Then he looks up at me as I slip back into my fluffy and inviting dressing-gown. "You getting dressed today?"

"Dennis-" I begin despairingly, glancing at the clock. "-it's not even ten o'clock on a Sunday morning... give me a chance."

"No, it's not that. It's just... if you reckon you can amuse this one for half an hour, I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Only someone woke up, didn't they?"

Lifting Andrew up from the bed and pulling his t-shirt down over his vest, I ask jokingly; "Me or him?"

"Was a combination of the two, weren't it?"

"Yeah, I guess, but darlin', you don't have to-"

"Ah!" he interjects, raising his finger to silence me and therefore prove he isn't prepapred to hear such words. "It's your birthday Sharon, and seeing as you won't let me spoil ya like I want to, just this once, I'm doing what a husband should do - putting my foot down. What I say goes."

"Oooh, listen to you, getting all masterful!" I can't help but smile, stepping up to him and affectionately brushing my nose against his before softly peppering his lips with kisses above Andrew's head. "My husband eh? I've got you... I've got Andrew... I already am spoilt."

"So get used to it." Dennis advises, kissing Andrew's head as he backs out of the room.

Glancing down at my son, I sigh happily, swinging him from side to side as I hold him upright in my arms. "What's your Daddy like, Andrew? I'll tell you what he's like, shall I? He's perfect. Mummy's a very lucky lady and you are a very lucky boy, cos I chose you the best Daddy in this whole world, didn't I, eh?"

And it seems like Dennis can only go on proving that. Because I've been sat on the bed, with Andrew propped up between my crossed legs, playing games with his hands and feet and singing him daft songs in even dafter voices for that exact half hour, falling so in love with his many smiles, when his Daddy appears with a breakfast tray. I really didn't think I was hungry - one waft of that banana cereal in the morning usually gets me through until lunchtime. But this tray's loaded up with everything Dennis knows full well I can't resist. Fruit salad covered in sweet sauces that smell divine, crepes, cappuccino, grapefruit juice and the killer - pain au chocolat!

"Oh my God..."

Dennis just grins, sinking down on the bed on the other side of the tray. "I'll do you honey on toast if you want it too..."

My eyes widen. "You think I could manage it?"

"Erm... probably not, but I thought I should offer."

Dipping my finger into my coffee, I swipe off some of the cream, sucking it slowly off to savour the taste of the cinnamon. "I can't believe you actually worked out how to use the coffee maker!"

He laughs, reaching over to hold onto Andrew's hand. "Yeah well, it's been sat there doing sod all since Christmas, I figured it was about time!"

Smirking, I look down again, gasping in surprise. There's a single red rose lain down on the edge of the tray. Carefully, I pick it up between my forefinger and thumb and show it to Andrew, tickling him with the silky petals. "Look darlin'! Look what your Daddy got me. D'you know what it means?"

He doesn't really seem that interested though, bless him, and I just glance back up at Dennis, who murmurs; "It means I love ya..."

Knowing that I'm beaming, I lean back down to our son and pretend to whisper as I say; "It means, even though he don't want anyone else to know it... he can be right romantic when he tries..."

"Your Mum's right mate... tell anyone that and I'm packing you off to boarding school!"

"You are not!"

He bows his head, fighting off an amused grin. But he composes himself and straightens up, leaning over, hands outstretched.

"Right, pass him here, you shouldn't have to eat over him." 

And with that, Dennis settles himself on the bed so that Andrew's propped up in his lap, his wide eyes never leaving me, or the tray.

"He's after the pain au chocolat, Dennis, look at him, look at his eyes."

Leaning round to look, Dennis laughs, lifting Andrew up again and holding him steady in the crook of his arm. "You've got good taste you, haven't ya? And I don't blame ya for trying, you'll just... have to wait another four... five years, that's all. I know-" he says of Andrew's protruding little sigh. "-it sucks, but I can't do anything about that, your stomach won't take it. Besides... you little monkey, it's your Mummy's and she won't thank you for nicking it. Whereas-"

He promptly leans over and swipes the half I've just torn apart.

"Oi!"

"He wanted me to do it!" Dennis says immediately, the pain au chocolat in his hand as he points at Andrew, who's laughing his head off. "See?"

I roll my eyes, despairing. "You're hopeless, the pair of you."

"You still love us though." 

I raise a questioning eyebrow and Dennis slumps back. 

"Oh c'mon!" he cries, cuddling into Andrew and pouting shamelessly. "How could you not love a face like that?"

"Alright, I know..."

When I finish with breakfast, I get up, refusing Dennis' offer to take the tray out to the kitchen for me, telling him to stay and amuse his son. When I come back, he's swinging him up in the air, blowing raspberries on his tummy whenever he comes down. I pull back the duvet, sinking heavily back on the bed. I crawl back into it, pulling up the duvet over my bended knees and reaching to play idly with my rose, just watching my boys. It's just such a picture-perfect moment. They were made for each other.

"Right..." Dennis breathes, Andrew sat up on his arm. "...presents. You want mine or his first?"

I shrug, a dreamy smile on my face. "I don't mind.."

But Andrew throws his hands out in a building temper, sounding as though he's going to try and force out another cry. I love how pathetic every noise he makes sounds. He doesn't really need to cry at all. He just wants attention.

"Well, it sounds like he does, so here..."

He reaches up into the top part of the wardrobe, and when he lays his free hand on whatever he was searching for, he presses it down into the duvet. I can't help but smile at the ridiculous bright wrapping paper. Dennis blinks at it, like it's still affecting his eyes and when I look back up at him, he hands me a lilac envelope.

I take it, smiling at the address of "My mummy", underlined by a kiss. I turn it over and pull at the seal, pulling out the card. It's pink, with little white daisies dotted around this innocent looking bear, hands hidden behind his back. I can imagine my Andrew looking at me like that in a few years time.

MUMMY
Guess how much I love you?

I open it, and laugh gently at the image of the tiny, beautiful bear, its little arms stretched out as far as they can go, declaring.

THIS MUCH!
Happy Birthday!

"Awww!" I coo softly. "Got very... legible handwriting for four months old, hasn't he?"

Dennis leans over with a smile and says proudly; "Uh huh. He wrote it out himself..."

I grin and go down to Andrew so that we can read through the card together. I kiss his head and gush; "Did you honey? Did you? My, my, you're a clever little boy aren't you eh? Your "M's" look just like your Daddy's! Funny that. Yes, isn't it, smiley boy, it's funny."

Mummy,

Thank you for everything you do to look after me. Thank you for letting Daddy make me, cos I love being your baby boy. You're beautiful and funny and I couldn't have asked for a better Mummy (or Daddy, but I'll tell him that on his birthday!) I promise to be a good boy all day and give you lots of smiles and cuddles. Our cuddles are the best and that's what you deserve. Love you lots, Mummy, happy birthday! 

xxxx

"Oh Dennis, that's gorgeous... thank you!"

"Don't thank me." he insists, waving his hand dimissively, nodding down at Andrew. "It was all him..."

"Oh... of course it was, silly Mummy! C'mere darlin'!" I lift him up, kissing his cheek. "Big kissys for Mummy's handsome little man, that's what you are. Yes, you are!" He seems bemused by the whole fuss, but I sit him down in my lap anyway and pull the package closer. But Dennis stops me.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... you might want Vicki's present first."

"Vicki's present?" I echo. "As in, my birthday present from Vicki? You mean it got here before Christmas?"

I am actually stunned, and Dennis laughs, reaching under the bed for it. "Definitely looks that way. Oh, and she said she'd call later. Here..."

It's a medium sized box that seems to be relatively heavy from the way it sinks on the bed. I look up and Dennis hunches forward. Suspicion prickles. "You know what this is don't you?"

"I might have an... inkling..." But he can't lie to me, gives in and grins. "Yes, alright, I know what it is. Vicki told me about it practically as soon as she bought it and she'll kill me if you don't get it before you open Andy's present-"

"Why?"

He shakes his head and advises; "Just open it."

I turn over the tag, recognising Vicki's scrawl.

For my gorgeous big sister on her 37th birthday

Go wild Sharon! Love you loads!

Vicki xxx

Good old Vicki. Rubbing in the age issue from the other side of the bloody Atlantic! I tear off the paper, revealing the box. "A digital camera. Impressive!"

"I'm on strict instructions to cram the 512 memory on that thing full of this little guy to send over to her, video clips and everything."

"Oh-" I groan knowingly. "-and she wants you to start as of now right?"

"Exactly." he nods, reaching over and opening the box, pulling the camera free of the polystrene and unwrapping the memory card. "Right, I need to go grab some batteries a second... there's some in the kitchen drawer isn't there?"

"Dennis!" I protest, pulling on his hand to stop him going. "Don't darlin', please. I haven't put me make-up on yet - I haven't even brushed my hair. Look at it, it's still soaking. I am not having photos, videos, anything done when I look this rough."

"Oi! You look gorgeous, you always do." He kisses my lips softly, even as I whimper still in protest. "So deal with it and don't go opening that birthday present til I've rammed some batteries in this thing OK?"

"OK..."

He goes and I cuddle into Andrew, mumbling; "Your Daddy's as mean as Auntie Vicki baby, wants the world to see Mummy at her worst. That's not fair, is it? No... no, it's not. Oh-" I kiss him, just loving his presence, hugging him tight for a moment. "-at least you understand eh, Andrew?"

"Understand what?"

"Oh nothing." I smile, waving my hand as Dennis reappers, his attention stolen by the screen of the camera as he presses buttons. 

"Not even here..." he assures me as he raises it to bring me and Andrew into the frame of the screen as he sinks down onto the bed.

"I'm gonna kill Vicki for this." I mutter hotly. But as I look down at my son, the urge to sigh heavily leaves me. He's so bloody beautiful. And he's mine. Here with me on my birthday. "Right you, you gonna help Mummy get rid of this paper then or did Daddy... I mean, did you cover it in so much bloody Sellotape, I'm gonna have to go and get the scissors?"

He just gurgles, so I assume I can at least try and open it first. Luckily, I catch my fingernail in the paper and it seems to tear easily. "Oooh, what have we got here, hmmm?"

I turn it over, feeling heavy in my hands. A smile breaks out as I realise I'm holding a photo frame, emblazoned across the top edge in a scrawl much like Vicki's; Our Family and I'm looking at a picture of just that. Our family, me, Dennis, Andrew and Vicki, sort of thrown around each other in a mix of hugs and babies on a bench in the park. Vicki came back to Walford from America for Dennis' birthday in August. She was determined we'd make a fuss of it being his birthday, because we never really bothered before. That and the fact it was mine & Dennis' first wedding anniversary the next day. Our sister has never really recovered from the guilt of not making our wedding. But I can forgive her, I can forgive her for not being here for my birthday, just in this one photo.

I remember, she put the self-timer on and leapt quickly back on the bench before the flash went over, leaning over Andrew as Dennis held him in one arm and drew me in against him with the other as I curled up there. My foot went dead beneath me. It was Hell trying to stand up afterwards. Once we were sure the bloody photo had taken of course. 

The flash failed loads of times and Vicki had to keep running back to set the whole thing up again, just hoping Dennis wouldn't have cause to say; Uh... sis.... nothing's happening!" again. I think even Andrew was laughing by the time we knew it was done, and that's why it makes for such a gorgeous photo. Cos we're all so happy, happy to be together. We haven't been since, I realise, with a twinge of sadness coming from inside. Not as a family.

"Awww!" I cry affectionately. "That's beautiful. And look at you, Andy-Pandy, so tiny..."

Dennis looks up over the camera and grins. "Can't believe he was ever that small can ya?"

"He didn't feel that small when I was pushing him out, believe me, but no! No, I wouldn't. And look... there's your Auntie Vicki, great big cheesey grin on her face!" And it makes me smile more to realise that Vicki's gonna see this, I look up, no longer irritated at the camera's presence, shamelessly blowing a kiss. "Miss you, Vicki!"

Andrew gurgles enthusiastically, so I pull him up a little straighter against me and wave his wrist. "Don't we baby?"

I can see Dennis' own hands shake as he laughs. "His face..."

"Gorgeous, isn't he? And so good at choosing presents for his Mummy!"

"Well, he mighta had a little help..."

"From Vicki? Teasin' darlin'!"

"Yeah?" He flicks the lens cap over and drop the camera on the bed. "Well, stuff her... I wanna give you my present now..."

Dennis reaches over and pulls Andrew up from my lap, turning and laying him down carefully in the cot. Andrew starts to grizzle and I'm already halfway up to go and get him again. I'm only stopped as Dennis leans down into the cot, kissing his son's crown and lovingly stroking through his hair as he murmurs; "Please mate, just give Daddy a minute huh? I gotta show Mummy what I showed you... yeah? I'll come back for you, I promise. Not gonna let my little guy miss out on the fun am I? A minute..."

"Show me what?" I question, intrigued as he turned round and I obediently crept back up the bed, my knees drawn up to my chest.

He just smiles mysteriously and my stomach writhes accordingly. I track his movement meticulously, stunned when he pulls out the drawer of the bedside table and withdraws what I can only guess is my birthday present, in a tiny deep-red gift box.

"You've been hiding my birthday present in the bedside drawer?"

"Well honey, you never look in the obvious places."

He's telling me!

I look down, unable to look him in the eye as I mumble; "I don't look..."

He just laughs, of course not believing me for a second. "Uh huh, so what were you doing in the airing cupboard last Wednesday Sharon?"

"P-Putting towels away... what?"

"All the towels were away, Sharon."

Feigning a scowl, I shrug and say; "Whatever. Can I open my present now?"

He beams, glancing expectantly down. "Be my guest."

Smiling at the bow pressed on the lid of the gift box, I realise he's deliberately trapped the string of a gift-tag beneath it. Catching it between two of my finger-tips, I turn it over.

"Andrew write this one too?"

"No... did a spell check for me though!"

Sharon,

Happy birthday darlin'.

This is... for being you, for being mine. Hope you like it.

Love always

D xxx

"Awww..." I breathe quietly, amazed by him and his sincerity. I'm bloody proud to be his. 

"Will you just open it, you're making me nervous here..."

"Alright..." I smile, totally in love with the way he seems so agitated. I lift the lid off and set it down on the duvet, reaching in and pulling out a little velvet box. I look up at Dennis, just wanting something in his face to give him away, but all that look back at me is nerves, his gaze dropping to the box as he bites anxiously into his lip.

Finding that I'm shaking a little with nerves now too, I tweeze open the lid. And I'll tell ya, I'm almost blinded by the sparkle coming off the gems set between the edges of the band.

"Oh my God... Dennis!"

"D'you like it?"

"Like it?" I echo, stunned. I can feel this lump swelling in my throat and I just can't find the words, getting frustrated as I search for them. "It's... It's... what is it?"

"It's an eternity ring..."

"No..." I laugh weakly, flapping my hands as I try and compose myself, wiping my brimming eyes. "I know what it is, I wasn't expecting a second proposal or anything..."

Dennis grins. "Too bloody right, you're not gonna get one any better than the first time round."

"Oh yeah darlin', totally. Bloody hell, that proposal was just so anti-marriage, I have no idea how we actually-"

"-ended up married?"

I giggle, nodding as I stroke hair from out of my eyes. "And so bloody happily an' all."

"Hey..." Dennis murmurs, edging closer and pressing his hand over my shaking own. "Oh honey, why are you crying?"

"This..." I clasp the opened box fiercely in my shaking hand. "...it's so gorgeous."

"Yeah well, it's meant to be, it's for you... kinda a step up from the pink plastic i'n't it?"

At those words, I'm laughing through my tears as they slip down my cheeks. "I love you so much."

"I know." he tells me softly, raising his hand to tenderly caress my face and wipe away my tears with his thumb before drawing me in to his lips, leaving to linger there the sweetest kiss I have ever tasted. "I love you too, more than I'm ever gonna know how to tell ya, so... diamonds are just gonna have to do it darlin'."

"Oh they will." I assure him, beaming as I admire the sheer gorgeousness of the ring. "Cos diamonds are-" I falter over the very word, my heart swelling with love, just as the lump in my throat does as more happy tears well. "Oh Dennis, you soppy bastard!"

And I throw my arms around him, amazed by him, loving him, loving how close he holds me too.

"Just wanted you to know I still mean it, that's all..."

"What did I do to deserve you, Dennis Rickman?"

"I dunno. Summat pretty bad I'm guessing."

"Oh shut up!" I scold, hitting him lightly in the chest with the back of my hand. "You are the best thing that- oh God!"

I can't stop bloody crying. And because I'm so bloody happy, I can't tell my own husband what he means to me. That is damn twisted. But he seems to understand me anyway, laughing gently in my ear as he holds me. "Well, now you know how I feel, don't ya? I never forgot you telling me you wanted a diamond ring, and you had him for God's sake-" He nods towards Andrew in his cot as I sink back on my knees. "-I shoulda got you one then. It's supposed to be like some sort of tradition anyway and it's the bloody least you deserve."

"I got an engagement ring, didn't I?"

"Not the point." he shrugs, leaning in and allowing the proximity of his lips to tease mine without us even touching. "You're my wife and you should be dripping in diamonds every single day."

"I'll get used to it." I assure him, my breath getting caught in my throat again as I gaze down at the ring, the little box still shaking in my hand.

"Here... let me."

Holding my hand in one of his, he gently takes the box from me with the other, stroking my fingers idly apart as he carefully tweezes the ring from the cushion of the box. God, it looks even more beautiful now. But I can't bear to start crying again. I never thought there'd be a time I'd be so glad to not be wearing make-up. Otherwise I'd look like Coco the Clown round about now!

But my stomach jolts unfavourably as I feel Dennis' warm fingertips tugging forcefully at my wedding ring. I try and recoil but Dennis holds on.

"Wh-What are you doing?"

"Honey, relax, it's not going anywhere."

"You're taking my wedding ring off! Seriously, don't you need my permission for that, or is this like some fast-track divorce ritual or something?"

"God-" Dennis sighs, almost as if he's in awe. "-you're so cute when you're stressed..."

"What?"

"Look, do you trust me at all?"

I throw him a damning look. He actually just said that. "Dennis, I let you get me pregnant without having a clue how bloody agonizing childbirth would be, don't that prove I trust ya?"

His lips curve upward in an amused and accepting smile as he holds on still to my hand. "Fair point. So just let me take it, just for a second..."

"Why?"

He lifts his other hand, the eternity ring held between his forefinger and thumb. "You wanna wear this right don't you?"

"Course I do..."

"Right, well, an eternity ring goes between the engagement and the wedding ring. Did you know that?"

Totally in love with the way he seems so absorbed in, so passionate about what he's saying to me, I lean a little way forward, slowly shaking my head. "No."

Head bowed, Dennis smiles again, shaking his head gently as he slides my wedding ring off the tip of my finger. I try not to wince, just watch him turn and place the band into the cushion of the box for safe-keeping. Then he turns back and, making sure my fingers are still splayed, hooks the eternity ring over the tip and slowly pushes it down.

"Neither did I til I bought this thing."

"Why?"

He looks up from the perfect fit this ring is upon my finger, looking completely bemused. "Why what?"

"Why does it go there? It's a bit of a fuss for one finger isn't it? I mean, I do have others."

A smile breaking out across his lips as he picks up my wedding ring once again, he glances up at me for a second, such a humour in his eyes as he shakes his head in disbelief, murmuring; "I'm so gonna give up on this whole romance thing..."

My wedding ring at last secure on my finger once again, I press my hand into Dennis'. "I don't want you to give up, darlin'. Not when you're doing so well. I just, I really wanna know... how come it goes there?"

Sighing, Dennis picks up a pillow and props it up against the headboard. Then he sits back, one knee bent. We look at each other, needing no words before he's drawing me into him. I'm not really sat but I'm not really lying down either. I'm just there, with my legs stretched out, cuddled into my husband, unable to take my eyes from the new set of gems gleaming upon my undoubtedly best bejewelled finger.

"Well, I dunno, do I? It just... does..."

"But why d'you think it does?"

He blows out an unknowing breath from between his lips, but as he plays idly with my other hand, tickling my palm and caressing my fingers, I can tell he's really pondering it. I wait with a fluttering of anticipation in my stomach.

"I dunno really-" he begins vaguely. "-I s'pose it's cos when you get engaged, when you ask someone to marry you, or they ask you to marry them, whatever, then you're telling this person, one person, you're saying that you couldn't love anyone else any more and that, what you've got, you and this person you wanna marry that it's meant to be forever. It's making a promise i'n't it? That first real promise... committment..."

"Or in our case, a bust-up in the bookies."

"Hey!" Dennis grins. "Either works."

I giggle, somehow wanting to return to my husband's deep thinking. It don't happen that often, believe me and I wanna savour it. I snuggle further into him, toying lovingly with my new ring, letting my fingertip stroke across the top of the gems.

"Go on...."

"What was I saying?"

"That... asking someone to marry you's a committment. And you're right but... you get engaged, you get married, don't you? Engagement ring, wedding ring on top - done! So why does an eternity ring go in the middle?"

"Well, cos... if you actually do go ahead and marry someone like you've promised, then you at least wanted it to be forever, even if it don't work out like that-"

"Which it will..."

"Course it will. But that's us, you and me... not everyone's as lucky as us, are they?"

"No." I answer, glancing at him, somehow so utterly mesmerised by the love in his beautiful eyes. "No way..."

"So that's why an eternity ring goes in the middle. Cos as soon as you tell someone that you wanna marry 'em, never mind whether you do or not, then you're saying you want 'em forever, and that's what an eternity is right? Forever."

"Wow." I breathe, completely stunned and admittedly emotional with it. I push myself up through my arms, my gaze distracted from the ring and instead stolen by the absolute truth in Dennis' face. And I swear to God, my darlin' has never looked so beautiful to me. "You're incredible."

"What-" he teases, slipping his fingers through mine. "-and you didn't know that already?"

"Course I did, but you... you definitely don't need to give up on the romance thing. Cos I- oh, I hate to break it to you darlin', but all that was the most romantic thing I have ever heard anybody say - and I've seen Brief Encounter six times!"

Dennis splutters on a laugh. "Thanks... I think."

"No." I shake my head, catching my hands around his face and tenderly stroking his cheek as I lean in to kiss his mouth. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"How can you not know what for, idiot?"

"Ring's a hit then?"

I nod definitely. "But it's not just this ring Dennis; it's everything. Engagement ring, wedding ring, the fact you ever proposed to me in the first place, never mind meant it! It's you and me... and it's him... our beautiful little boy, look at him!"

"Tryin' not to darlin', he'll want me to go and get him. I told him a minute and I've had at least ten!"

"Dennis!" I sigh despairingly. "Can't you tell I'm tryin' to go deep and meaningful here?"

He just grins and as Andrew at last lets out out that one lustful cry of protest, letting his Daddy know he feels somewhat abandoned, pushes himself up to fulfill his promise and go and gather our son up into his arms.

Sighing gently, amused as I sit back, bending my knees up so I can rest my hand against it, adoring my ring.

"Hey!" Dennis smiles down at Andrew. "Daddy's back! How's my favourite little man, huh? Oooh, you getting heavier mate? C'mere then, Daddy wants to give you a cuddle, yes he does..." He comes back over to the edge of the bed, standing over me with interest. "You've gone too quiet darlin', you're not getting misty-eyed again are ya?"

"Course I am!" I laugh, glancing up at him just for a second cos I can't bear to take my eyes from the sheer gorgeousness of the ring. "Never seen anything so beautiful in my life-"

"Uh!" he coughs indignantly, twisting his hip so Andrew faces me. "Mummy?"

I cock my head, pouting as shamelessly at Andrew as he does at me. "Apart from you, Andy, obviously, Mummy wouldn't forget you. Or your Daddy... got such good taste hasn't he? Look!" Proudly, I lift my hand. But my son narrows his eyes, apparantly never to be impressed by such insignificant things as diamonds. As they catch in this new light, I find something else to love. "Seriously Dennis, I can't believe it, how much did this cost?"

Dennis laughs, dropping carefully down on the bed as he cradles Andrew lovingly to his chest, kissing his crown. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to ask that question?"

That just makes suspicion prickle. "How much?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a present. Nothing else matters, does it? Besides, if I tell you, you'll want the receipt so you can disappear down Kurt Geiger for the day and come back with ten pairs of shoes!"

"Ten? From Kurt Geiger? Dennis, you're talking... over a thousand pounds!"

He shrugs. "So?"

My mouth just gapes. I can't believe he did that. I shake my head in disbelief. "I can't decide whether you're amazing or mental!"

"Well, let's put it this way shall we? You don't need the shoes..."

I smirk. "No... No, I don't." Then I wind myself in to the the cuddle going on between father and son and declare; "I've got everything I need right here, haven't I?"

"Careful Andy..." Dennis advises in an amused whisper. "...I think your Mummy's about to start singing on us."

I throw Dennis a look. "So what if I did eh? I'm a very accomplished singer I'll have you know!"

"Oh right yeah, cos you and this "Banned" really hit the big time right?"

"That weren't my fault, that was... artistic differences!"

He laughs. "You ain't kidding. It's gotta be a crazy, mixed up world when Ian Beale's walking round thinking he's Jon Bon Jovi!"

I bow my head, giggling. "Well, to be fair, his hair weren't that far off!"

"Oh yeah, and what about yours?"

I lift my hand warningly and he leaps up, Andrew still held in his arms and he grins, carrying our son off towards the lounge. "We'll go and grab some toys eh, mate, leave your Mummy with her memories of the bad hair and the little drummer boy..."

"I heard that!"

And I hear him laugh after that an' all, or it may well have been Andrew - anything to tease Mummy. But it really doesn't seem like a bad idea, and leaning round to make sure the men in my life are gone, Dennis no doubt immersed in the latest episode of The Hoobs or something as Andrew shakes a rattle about, I clamber off the bed and crouch down to grope beneath it for my pink box, stuffed full of those embarrassing photos. I just wanna look at 'em, cringe and realise again how far it is I've come since those days.

But my hands fall around a much larger box. Intrigued, I pull it out. I look down - and the KURT GEIGER logo stares up at me. I haven't been in Kurt Geiger since Vicki was over in August, and since we were splashing out for Dennis' birthday and then mine and Dennis' anniversary the next day, we were only window shopping, dreaming. It's been absolute ages since I've bought anything in there - I've been too obsessed with buying things for Andrew. But I wouldn't forget a pair of shoes, would I? No, I decide, watching the light leap off the lid as I lift the box onto the bed, this box is too new, in too good a condition to have been forgotten.

So I lift the lid and let it drop onto the bed, pushing the paper covering back. And oh my God, they're gorgeous. Pale pink, the heel spiked, a good three and a bit inches, oh I appreciate it! They have thin straps to secure your ankle and there it is, the softest champagne satin lining in the sole - the KG signature. I let my fingertips slide over it, and slide they do from that kinda height. God, they're perfect, the cutest jewels detailing the bottom strap, and knowing the prices they charge in that place, they probably are real jewels an' all.

Giggling excitedly, I can't help but pull the other shoe from the box and throw them onto the bed, sinking down and lifting my foot to rest against the frame of the bed. I'm shaking as I slide it through the ankle strap, pushing gently down so my toes slide beneath the jewels. I secure the ankle strap and admire my foot for a second, stretching it out. But I'm desperate to wear the other one too.

"You found 'em then? Knew you would."

I jump, surprised to hear Dennis' voice. This in itself makes Andrew giggle. I feel myself flush, like a little girl, embarrassed to have been caught doing something naughty. But I recover from that as I return to admiring each shoe upon my feet again, stretching out and wiggling my toes appreciatively.

"Oh darlin', they're gorgeous." And I leap up, rushing over to throw my arms around him, kissing his cheek as I go. "Thank you so much!"

He laughs gently in my ear, holding me carefully so as not to endanger poor Andrew, not yet aware that pretty shoes can turn his Mummy into a madwoman almost instantly. "Yeah well, you might not be about to get the ten pairs, but..."

But he's interrupted by the trilling of the phone from the lounge.

"That'll be Vicki..."

And he goes off, taking Andrew with him.

"Dennis, it's eleven! What the Hell's Vicki gonna be doing up at six in the morning?"

He reappears, the phone pressed to his ear. Having heard me call after him, he pulls it away and shrugs; "Ask her yourself-" Then he returns his attentions to our sister. "Yeah, yeah she has. Cheers Vicks, look after yourself babe. Yep, love you too. Vicki, he's a baby, what's he gonna- alright!" Laughing in disbelief, he pulls Andrew a little higher up against him and brings the phone down. "You gonna say b'bye to Auntie Vicki mate? In fact, say anything you like, she won't know the difference-"

And Andrew promptly tries to drag the aerial into his mouth. Dennis immediately recognises the danger and swoops it away, handing the phone to me.

"Hey darlin'... how are you?"

"Tell Dennis I heard that!"

I laugh, waving him and Andrew off. "Will do. Honestly though Vicki, what are you doing up? I coulda waited a couple of hours!"

"Yeah, but I figured that nephew of mine woulda gotten you up so damn early that if I waited til I wanted to get up, you'd be bored stiff!"

"Oh no! Andrew and Dennis are keeping me entertained, don't worry."

"Hmmm." she says knowingly. Then after a beat, she enquires brightly; "So, how's it feel to be this close to forty, Sharon! Happy birthday, by the way!"

"Cheeky cow!" I splutter indignantly. "I'm thirty-seven, thank you very much, I've got a good few years to go yet!"

"Yeah, but it must be catching up with you right? Demanding baby... all the night feeds? Younger husband? I mean, Dennis is what, seven years younger than you?"

"Nearly five, and you knew that, madam!"

She creases into helpless giggles. "Oh Sharon, how come it's always so easy to wind you up huh?"

"I don't know." I tell her, settling back on the bed, still captivated by my shoes as I speak. "Guess it's all this lack of sleep."

"Andy still being a little sod then?"

"Oh no! He's settled down now, sleeps right through, bless him. It ain't just feeding that happens in the night y'know, Vicki."

"OK... gross!"

I grin. "Thank you." I say sweetly, glad to have gotten her back.

And Vicki sighs, like she's resigned to the idea that she will always despair of me. "Dennis says you found the KG's."

I beam down at my feet, circling my ankle. "Oh Vicki, they're gorgeous-"

"I know they are Sharon, I chose 'em. C'mon you don't seriously believe Dennis walked into a joint like that on his own and picked out three of the most incredible pairs in the shop do ya? No, I went with him when I was over with you guys in the summer, grabbed the ones I saw you eyeing up when we went window shopping together. I tell ya, it was the first time I've ever been up Oxford Street on an entirely selfless mission! Nearly killed me."

"Hang on, Vicki, what d'you mean, three pairs? I'm wearing the pink... Gemini ones, now..."

"Well, haven't you found the other-"

"Dennis!" I call excitedly, resting the phone over my shoulder, completely ignoring my sister for a moment. "Vicki says there's another two pairs!"

The lounge door creaks and I can hear my darlin' laughing as he calls back, "Thought she might. You'll have to find 'em first, Sharon!"

And I'm grinning like a loon as I cry out; "Love you!" before lifting the phone back to my ear and reiterating to my darlin' little sister and her obviously impeccable understanding of my tastes. "Vicki, I love you!"

"As much as you love the shoes?"

"Ouch! You've seen 'em Vicki, you know that's not fair!"

"Oh, well then I love you too!" she laughs, sounding aghast. "Sharon, just go and find the shoes, yeah? Call me back then; hopefully I feel more alive by then! Just have a great day, and let my brother spoil you! What are you two up to later?"

"We're staying in!"

"What? Sharon, you can't do that!"

"Yes I can."

"But it's your birthday!"

"Exactly." I point out. "My birthday. The first one I can spend with my husband and our little boy."

"Ack." my sister scoffs. "You three are so cute, you actually make me feel quite ill."

"Thanks Vicki, much appreciated!" I laugh.

"Well! OK, so no big shindig, but at least... get out of the house, even if you & Dennis just take Andy round the park or something. Think about it, you can paint your toenails and show off the new shoes!"

"Yeah..." I muse thoughtfully over the idea, loving the sound of it more and more for every second that I do. "Yeah, you're on!"

"Now, I don't need to tell you to take loads of photos do I, sis?"

"No Vicki, you don't. That was smooth by the way, well done. Dennis got you the video clip of me and Andy this morning, you'll just have to excuse how rough I look!"

"Awww, bless! Did you like the little squirt's present?"

I nod. "S'adorable, such a good picture, we look really happy. I can't believe how much Andrew's changed since you were last here though Vicki. You'll have to come back over soon, we miss you so much!"

"Ah, you don't need me now, you've got the shoes!"

"This is true." I tease. "But you know what they say, you can never have enough shoes, so Dennis is always gonna need your... expertise, birthdays, Christmas, that sort of thing."

"Vicki Fowler, the Rickmans' personal shopper? Do I get a wage for this?"

"Don't you think I've been paying your wages long enough Vicks?"

"Oooh, that hurt."

"Yeah well-" I reply, reaching down to rub my toes. "-so do my feet. Shoes are starting to rub."

"So take 'em off and paint your toenails, give the feet a break."

"But how am I gonna know what colour to paint me toenails when I don't know what colour these other shoes are?"

"Nice try, Sharon! I'll talk to you later, OK?"

Realising that she's hung up on me, probably desperate to crawl back into bed, the cheeky cow, like I relish being woken up by my son crying in the morning; I throw the phone down on the bed and pull off my shoes. Then I get up and pad over to the chest of drawers, stretching up onto my reddened toes to reach over the top and drag down my little vanity case, weighed down with lipsticks and glosses and eyeliners and more importantly, dozens upon dozens of nail varnishes.

I sit back down on the bed, swinging my feet up on the duvet, bending my knees and hunching over as I unclasp the case and draw the lid up, rifling for a few of my favourite little bottles of varnish to find the perfect colour to complement my perfect shoes. Uhmmm'ing and ahhh'ing for a long while, I settle on a lilac, unscrewing the brush and getting down to work, determined not to smudge one stroke.

I'm halfway through my second foot when I hear Dennis in the doorway. 

"What's this? Not turning the place upside down looking for shoes?"

"Nope." I say, not even looking up from my occupation. "I'm doing me nails and I'm gonna wear in the first pair before I go looking for the other two, cos we're gonna take our son round the park."

"Your birthday!"

"That's right." I answer, leaning down to put the brush back into the varnish and tighten the lid. Then I straighten up, wiggling my toes. "What d'you think?"

"Cute."

"You've smudged a bit."

Not expecting this second voice, I leap up in surprise, backing up a few paces as I instinctively pull my dressing gown tighter around me. "Ian!"

He grins. "Hiya Sharon, happy birthday!" And he strides over, leaning in to kiss my cheek. Dennis is still stood in the doorway, laughing silently at the way I am so stunned.

"Uh yeah, thanks! Wh-What are you doing here?"

"Just come to drop your present round. Sorry, I'm er..." He looks me pointedly up and down, stood there in my dressing gown, and then turns round to glance at Dennis, who just smirks. "...not interrupting anything am I?"

"I'm not sure." I mutter honestly, looking to Dennis myself. "Where's Andy?"

"In the bouncer in the lounge. Don't panic, he's only been on his own for a second while I answered the door to 'im." Dennis nods in the direction of Ian, but when he reads my panicked look, rolls his eyes and murmurs; "I'll go and get him!" before adding, "Oh, and Ian, Sharon got out the bath a bit over half an hour ago OK, that'd be why she's got wet hair; and me, look, not a drop on me, so you can stop thinking what we both know you're thinking right now."

Ian's face falls as mine colours, his lips shifting in confusion. "What?" It just makes Dennis laugh as he leaves the room to go and get Andrew.

"Oh Ian, ignore him. I just, wasn't expecting to see anyone today, y'know? Haven't got dressed or done me hair yet... well, you can see that."

"Well, like Dennis said, it's your birthday. Having a good day so far?"

"Yeah." I smile, nodding. "Yeah, I am. Dennis hasn't let me do a thing since yesterday afternoon, Vicki actually sent my birthday present- she was on the phone a minute ago-"

Eyes wide, Ian pulls up his sleeve, scrutinising his watch. "What, already? It'd only be six in the morning over in Florida wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, shocked me a bit an' all. But it was great to hear from her though Ian, we really miss her."

"Well, have her back over here for Christmas or something."

"That's a really good idea, Ian, y'know that?"

He smirks, somehow aware. "What about presents, had any good ones? The one, from me, Jane and the kids, it's in the kitchen-"

"Right, thanks darlin'. And yeah, I have. Vicki got me a digital camera, wants as many pictures of Andrew as she can get, bless her. And she apparantly took Dennis up Oxford Street to buy me gorgeous shoes, and now I'm like, on a treasure hunt looking for 'em all!"

He laughs weakly. "Should have bought Jane round then, she can tell shoes at fifty paces! Honestly Sharon, I don't understand the fascination!"

"Well that's cos you're a man!" I tease. He just throws me a look and I roll my eyes impatiently, guffawing. "Oh here look, you'll appreciate this." Excitedly, I extend my hand and it shakes as I splay my fingers.

"Wow!" he gasps, eyes bulging as he holds my hand steady. "Look at the size of this thing!"

"It's an eternity ring... from Dennis."

"Well, I didn't think it was from me Auntie Pauline did I?"

"Oh don't!" I plead, groaning. "I haven't been round to her yet."

"Oh you should!" he muses sarcastically. "Marks & Spencers have got a fabulous line of night-dresses in she says!"

"Night dresses? Oh bloody hell, I can choose me own nightwear, thanks!"

"Hmmm, I bet ya can, and you best choose well seeing as Dennis coughed up for this!"

"Yeah, I know, his heart and lungs is about the size of it an' all. Reckons it cost him over a grand-"

"What, he told you?"

I grin, knowing the figure would be the bit Ian appreciated the most. "No way, he wouldn't! He just... gave me an indication, that's all. Isn't it gorgeous?"

"My ears are burning!"

I look up to be greeted by Dennis striding in, Andrew sat up in his arms, his emerald eyes darting around as he takes in everything there is to see. 

My husband smiles and mouths, "See? He's fine!"

As Ian says; "Yeah, Sharon's just showing me this ring, impressive Dennis, really!" I'm smiling over at my son, murmuring and giving him wide eyed looks to make him beam.

"Yeah well, she's worth it."

"Awww, he's so sweet." And Dennis himself seems surprised it's him I'm kissing rather than Andrew, who is absorbed in fixing Ian with the dirtiest look I've ever seen in a child's face. Needing to distract myself for fear I'm about to burst out laughing, I declare, "Right boys, I'm off into the kitchen to check out the presents, you three coming or...?"

I sail through, knowing that they're following me by the way Andrew's gurgle never loses volume.

There's a big blue gift-bag sat on the table, a birthday card propped up against it. I pick that up, sliding my finger under the seal to pull it open and slide open the card. For A Special Friend it says. So Ian's signed it and Jane's signed it, telling me to "Have the best day your boys can give you babe!" Peter & Lucy have signed it, and Ian's even signed it for little Bobby. That's adorable. Standing the card up on the table, I scrunch the envelope up and lean over to throw it in the bin before I straighten up and peek over the edge of the gift bag, gasping.

"Now Ian... don't think I'm being rude or anything darlin', cos I really appreciate this, but did Jane buy this lot?"

Grinning sheepishly, he replies; "You got me. She took Lucy out with her last week. Apparantly it was Luce that wanted to go in there and Jane knew you loved the stuff so-"

"-so she bought, what... half the shop?"

"I dunno, but it looks that way don't it? I'll let you know when me credit card statement comes through shall I?"

I giggle, diving straight back into the bag like a little kid at Christmas, rifling through all the products.

"What is it?" Dennis asks dubiously, stepping up to look in the bag too.

"I dunno." Ian repeats, shrugging. "Everything Jane and Lucy could get their hands on from, y'know, that shop on Regent Street that knocks you out when you walk past?"

"Yeah-" he laughs. "-I know the one. Not that I ever got to walk past... Sharon and Vicki were always dragging me in there and bleeding the bloody club dry!"

"It was my club!" I protest. "Bloody hell Ian, what isn't in here?"

"You'll have to ask Lucy & Jane. They do alright then?"

"Fantastic darlin'!" I beam, kissing his cheek. "Thank 'em for me..."

"Will do."

I turn away, but then freeze. "Uh... Ian?"

"Sharon?"

I nod to what's sat on the countertop. "What's that?"

Proudly rooting his hands in his pockets, he tells me; "It's your birthday cake."

Seeing the thick layer of icing covering the whole thing, my stomach churns unfavourably.

"Oh God!" I murmur, in spite of myself, shaking my head as I drum my fingers into the cushion of my lip. "Ian, I'm sorry, but I can't eat that. No, I mean it, I'll be sick..."

"What d'you mean you'll-" He turns to Dennis with a questioning look. But Dennis shrugs, looking blankly back, which leads to Ian, eyes narrowed in confusion, to turn back to me and ask; "You're not pregnant again are you?"

Dennis splutters on a laugh as my mouth drops open and I demand; "Do I look pregnant?"

Ian colours rapidly, recognising my question for a dangerously fragile one and mumbling; "Well, no, but I... you-"

Surprisingly, Dennis chooses to come to Ian's rescue, grinning like his jaw's about to shatter. "To be fair, honey, you couldn't really tell you were pregnant with Andy til you were practically six months gone."

"Dennis! I was huge! You just couldn't tell the bloody difference, could you?"

"Hey, shut up, everyone said you had a tiny bump; Dot, Pauline, Michelle, Vicki-"

"Oh, and Vicki'd know would she? Not pregnant, thanks Ian!" Turning back on Dennis, I scowl. "And the process ain't likely to be happening for a while now, darlin'."

But he doesn't look remotely perplexed, the bastard. In fact, he's the one throwing me reprimanding looks, cuddling our son protectively, as if he's telling me off for talking about such things in front of an innocent mind. Which isn't true anyway, innocence goes downhill as soon as they locate their member, and as last night's bath-time proved, our son, however gorgeous he is, is very attached to his!

Dennis sounds very amused as he looks up at Ian and says; "What Sharon means is, Ian, she'll throw up if she touches cake on top of four thousand calories and a hundred grams of sugar that I completely forced into her system with breakfast this morning. It's not actually personal. Or at least it wasn't til you put your foot in it!"

"Yeah, uh, I'll be off then. I'll see you later, Andrew!"

And at that address, Andrew promptly starts to wail, making Ian leap back and pretty much run for the door, trying to say his goodbyes over my son's din.

"Bye then Sharon, happy birthday an' all." He leans to kiss my cheek as I open the door, then he straightens up and smiles weakly at Dennis as he prepares to back out. "Uh... Dennis."

"Ian." Dennis returns with a nod of recognition as he stands in the hall, holding Andrew up against his shoulder and rubbing his back; swinging his hips gently side to side to rock him, murmuring soothingly in his little ear, "Oh c'mon Andy, it's not that bad baby. Your Daddy's here i'n't he, eh? Shhh! That's it, good boy... I'm right here... shhh-shhh-shhh..."

And somehow, he just does it. He makes me melt. Cos even with all the stupid little things he can do or say, whether or not it's unintentional (like this whole palava I suppose, but bloody hell - as if I look pregnant!) he is still the most perfect dad. 

The door clicks shut after Ian as I back up against it, watching my boys with a dopey smile on my face. Assured at the click that Ian is gone, Dennis puffs out an apprehensive breath and declares; "That bloke seriously does something to this kid-"

I glance down, my perfectly painted toe-nails catching my eye as I giggle in spite of myself. "Yeah, Ian's never really had much luck with kids, bless him. His own, he's fine but anyone else's, it's like they're scared of him."

"I'm not surprised, going round pulling faces like that!"

"He wasn't pulling faces Dennis."

"What, you mean he looks like that all the time?"

Shooting him a warning look, I go over and tenderly kiss Andrew's crown, listening to him take in dozens of shallow breaths as he gradually calms down. He's proper tugging at my heart-strings with the sound but I know I can trust Dennis implicitly.

"Right, I'm going to get dressed before anyone else descends. Don't worry baby, your Daddy will look after you..."  

At least, I assume that what all the giggling and mad noises that follow as I return to the bedroom mean. I can't help but keep smiling, shaking my head in disbelief as I rattle through the wardrobe, looking for something to wear. I want to take my time, make a fuss, but find that I'm missing my family. So I pull down my blue denim skirt off the hanger and toss it on the bed, turn back and looking again for a top. Looking back at the shade of my beautiful shoes for a pointer, I decide on my dusky pink top with the frilled edge decoration. I'm impressed with how quick I managed to make that decision, more time taking over first selecting my underwear (after all, I intend for it to be uncovered several times today; it's my birthday!) and then finding my hairdryer.

I brush through my hair as it dries, so that it does so perfectly straight. It's still hot in my hands as I gather it up and secure it in a bulldog clip, flicking the ends out over the top. My fringe, swept to the side is beautifully stranded. I like it, everything seems to be going well today. And it's looking good too, I decide certainly, fumbling to bestow a dusting of bronzer to my face before I get started on my mascara and eyeliner. A slick of shimmering lip gloss after that, I sit back down and put on the shoes, at last feeling ready for the world.

I get up and leave the room, peaking round the lounge door. And my heart flips, just at the sight of 'em. Dennis is sat on the floor, legs stretched wide apart as Andrew lies on the floor in front of him on his back, both hands stretched up to catch his Daddy's fingers. And Dennis is just beaming as he leans over our son, so proud of him for that one simple fact. He's our son.

The door creaks as I lean against it and Dennis looks up expectantly, smiling as he sees me stood there. "Alright? Want me to get him ready?"

"Yeah, go on then. I'll go grab me jacket and then get the buggy yeah?"

"I can do that."

I giggle. He's so sweet. "Yeah, and so can I, baby, don't worry." And it's with the stupidest smile on my face I turn around and head out into the hall, wrenching open the closet where we throw coats and fold the buggy up in the evening. Reaching for my caramel coloured jacket first, I find I kick something as I stretch up. I pull my jacket on and then, curiously, stoop down, pushing back long winter coats (that are probably all mine!) to uncover... another KURT GEIGER box.

I shiver excitedly, lifting it up and nuding the closet door close with my hip, completely ignoring the buggy as I go back into the lounge, settling myself on the sofa.

"Two down eh?"

Beaming, I nod, loving to torture myself by just letting my hands slide over the smooth lines of the box. "Good hiding place too, I'd never have looked in-"

"Ah!" Dennis snaps his fingers triumphantly, cutting me off. "So you do go looking!"

My cheeks flame, but Dennis just laughs, swinging Andrew up into his arms, making a noise like an aeroplane as he backs up and sinks down beside me, Andrew sat up in his lap. "C'mon then mate, best watch your Mummy go ga-ga! Yep-" He says of our son's bemused look. "-Mummy goes ga-ga too! Over shoes, can you believe it?"

As I take off the lid, setting it on the floor and pushing the paper covering aside, I can well believe it, my stomach flipping in adoration for the shoes - and my sister! She has a bloody good memory. I'm really trying hard not to squeal as I lift out one of the shoes. A silver sandal with a certified and adored inch heel, with nothing bu the gorgeous diamante detail to complement the toes.

I lean down, giving my husband a quick kiss of the sincerest gratitude as I tug off one of my pink Gemini sandals and slip the silver Godiva one on.

"Oh my God, they're gorgeous."

"They're odd shoes." Dennis says thoughtfully, and I shove him playfully.

"Which ones do you think I should wear?"

His eyes widen in surprise. "You're asking me?"

"No, I'm asking our four month old son, Dennis - of course you, I can't decide!"

"Well then it doesn't matter does it? You're gonna look great anyway."

I kiss him again. "All because of you and Vicki!"

With a humoured smile, he shakes his head. He doesn't need to say anything, I already love him for the point he's trying to make. He pushes himself up, propping Andrew up against the arm of the sofa, murmuring; "I'll go and get the buggy, shall I?" It barely registers with me that I didn't bother to go and get it, too absorbed in mulling over my painful choice. Dennis set the buggy up in the hall and come through to collect Andrew to place him in it before I make my decision, settling on the Gemini sandals for the simple reason they go with my top, even though the gorgeous thing about silver sandals like the Godiva is that they go with anything.

"Ready then?" Dennis laughs. "Sure? Positive? Don't need another half a century to think it over?"

I roll my eyes, nudging him out the way as I take my place at the helm of the buggy. "Just open the door, Dennis yeah?"

  
There was absolutely no purpose in us going to the park at all. It's late October for God's sake, it's cold and Andrew's not at an age where he can appreciate the surroundings yet. And yet, it was still utterly perfect. Because it's something so normal that families do. And I haven't yet recovered from the perfect idea that I, at last, have my own family; a man that loves me more than I could ever have imagined was possible, and our gorgeous, long awaited baby boy. Both here, with me, on my birthday.

I know what, Vicki, Ian, Pauline and probably everyone else that knows us was expecting. That I'd get a baby-sitter and spend the whole day forgetting about the stresses of parenthood. And I could still do that. I'm a woman after all, it's my perogative to change my mind and I know that Dennis would be more than up for it, seeing as how much he wants to spoil me and all. But parenthood's not a stress, it's not easy, but it's a dream, everything I ever wanted - everything I ever wanted to share in with Dennis. It's been the absolute making of us and I can't imagine wanting anything else with anyone ever. I've actually got it all. All mine, and all here to stay. 

So whatever I do do tonight, I know I'm going to spend today with the men in my life, loving them totally and utterly, blocking out the rest of the world because these two, they are my life. I can stop in the middle of the path and kiss Dennis as lovingly and for as long as I like - or for as long as Andy will allow, he hates it when motion stops, bless him. There's nothing to be ashamed of anymore, nothing to hide. We're just like any other couple now, completely in love, raising our family. And yet there's still one thing that sets us apart from every other couple, makes us as different as we have always been. We both know we're forever, the ring he chose to place upon my finger this morning the very proof of that fact. 

There's not much else this world can give me now, I mean, look at me. I've got my husband, my son, my sister, my friends, and more recently, diamonds! Everything I ever wanted. And I just couldn't have had anything of it without Dennis, or Vicki come to that - she found him after all.

And he's walked beside me as the buggy rattles along, one of his hands pressed gently over mine around the handle, his other against my hip as his arm rests in its rightful place around my waist. 

We're about halfway around the park when Dennis leans over and put on the brake, pulling back my hand from the handle as he straightens up and gripping it in his own.

"What's up with you?" I laugh softly.

Blanching his lip, Dennis shakes his head. Apparantly nothing's wrong. He stares down at our entwined hands and says; "I'm so proud of you."

"Why? What did I do? Besides get you off the shelf?"

He splutters indignantly, his eyes wide. "Uh, excuse me, I think you'll find it was the other way round, I was never on the shelf. Oh look, shut up, I'm trying t'give you the deep and meaningful here!"

"Oooh, sorry. I'm listening, baby." And I smile sweetly to prove my attentiveness.

Smirking, he locks his fingers through mine, playing idly with our hands. "Just us, y'know? Me, you, Andy... you did all that." 

"No I didn't."

"Well, I'm never gonna give birth am I?"

"True..." I agree slowly, feeling a naughty smile curve my lips. "You just get to make the baby I have no choice but to give birth to. Tough life for you isn't it, Dennis?"

"Hey, you've never complained before! And besides, I didn't do it on me own, did I, cos if I did, how come you got to blow that £750?"

And I'm giggling again, I can't help it. He's talking about what I treated him to for his birthday, our anniversary, whichever. A week back in Tenerife, courtesy of a certain coffee jar. It was one Hell of a wrench leaving Andy, but Vicki and Pauline took perfect care of him of course, leaving me and Dennis together in a paradise - when we left the hotel room of course. And even when we did, we were still making love anywhere and everywhere. We were still in Heathrow when Dennis took out his wallet and handed me £35, saying just three words.

"For the jar..."

And let's just put it this way; when we got home the next week, he owed me another £20.

As my head is bowed, Dennis lets go of my hand and catches his fingertips beneath my chin, tilting it up and making me shiver with the way his eyes burn into mine.

"I love you, Sharon."

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know. I love you too. So much. You're my darlin'..." I kiss him softly, a whisper of a kiss that leaves us both in need of something deeper. 

And Dennis offers it in words, making me shiver as he murmurs, "And I wouldn't wanna belong to anyone else, you know that right?"

"Mmmm-hmmm, s'why I married you." I let go of the buggy and let my arms surround him as I smile up at him. "To let everyone else know I got my claws into you and I'm never gonna let go."

"Promise?"

"I promise!" 

And he just beams, like some hyped up little kid. It's official. My husband is not only sexy, romantic and loving, he's adorable too, and effortlessly so. Must be where Andrew gets it from. 

Letting my arms drop, I flick off the brake and take up the handles of the buggy again, smirking as we walk; "Only cos I'd have to give the ring back!"

"Oi!" he laughs, nudging me gently with his hip. "You never have to give it back, I never want it back. Forever, remember?"

"Yeah alright, so you don't want the ring back, what about the cash?"

He muses over it thoughtfully. "Hmmm, maybe. There are other things I coulda spent it on..."

"Oh yeah, and how long do you reckon it woulda lasted us darlin'?"

"I dunno, til Christmas maybe."

I guffaw. "Just Christmas eh? You can't keep your hands to yourself, that's why!"

"And why should I?" he questions flirtatiously against my ear. "You're my wife... my sexy, gorgeous wife-"

"Keep going." I advise, lifting my head smugly. "Flattery gets you everywhere."

"Yeah, and it leaves me out of pocket an' all."

My mouth gapes and I turn, astounded, towards him. "Are you saying I'm not worth it?"

He returns to me an odd look. But he recognises the challenge in my eyes and assures me softly; "Oh God, you're worth every penny."

"Every penny eh? Well, you got a hundred of them to spare?"

"Darlin', we were supposed to taking a pound out everytime we did it after the first six months and that was... eight months ago?"

"Hey, our bank balance has never looked so good! And if it keeps me in shoes..."

He gives out a protruding sigh. "The things I do for you, Sharon Rickman!"

"Oh!" I simper, stretching up to hold his face in my hands, peppering his lips. "Such a chore i'n't it, baby?"

"Well what are we gonna do with our son?"

"Get a babysitter, leave him with Pauline for a couple of hours huh? C'mon Dennis, it is my birthday..."

Sighing gently, Dennis lets his arms surround me again, asking; "D'you know what your problem is, Sharon?"

"I'm insatiable?" I offer proudly. Dennis bows his head, laughing softly.

"Worse. You're irresistible and it's always the kids that suffer..."

"Well that's why we get a babysitter, spare our first-born's emotional scars."

A grin explodes across Dennis' ever kissable lips. "Just inflict a couple on Pauline when we go and pick him up eh?"

I smirk, clicking my tongue pointedly in the side of my mouth.  "Have you ever seen Pauline get jealous, Dennis?"

"Well, it's not our fault if that Joe ain't up to it!"

I grimace, which makes my darlin' laugh still. But I compose myself, unable to resist the urge to tease him mercilessly. "I don't think it's Joe she's waiting on baby. No, I think she fancies you as much as any other woman on the Square..."

"Oh Sharon!"

"What?"

"Well, are you trying to put me off or what?"

"No. No way."

"Then shut up! Please!"

I grin, loving the way he gets so wound up. Then I lean round the buggy, only just realising that in all this time, Andy hasn't sent up a racket, love swelling in my chest as I see that he is in fact, fast asleep. He looks like a little angel, so gorgeous. Bloody jealous of his eyelashes too. I couldn't achieve that kinda definition with a whole bloody tube of mascara.

"Awww." I coo quietly, gesturing for Dennis to take a look at our gorgeous baby. "Shall we take him round to her now?"

"Oh yeah, let's do it while he's asleep and don't know what his Mummy & Daddy are surrendering him to eh?"

"Honestly Dennis, you sound like you're scared of her!"

"It's not me I'm worried about, it's him! Seriously, what if he wakes up and thinks we've abandoned him or something?"

"Awww, you look so cute when you're worried." I tease, putting on the patronising, gushing voice we both use for Andrew as I continue pushing the pram along. "Don't worry darlin', I'll protect you from big, nasty Pauline and her frying pan!"

"Shut it, you!" he scolds playfully. Then he pulls me closer, kissing my hair. "C'mere!"

And we're still wound together like that as we walk back into the Square. That is until we're outside Pauline's back gate, and his arms drop from around me like lead. He's biting anxiously into his bottom lip as he steps over the front wheel of the buggy and opens the gate, carefully lifting the front end of the buggy over the very slight kerb. With the smallest sigh, he turns and raps on the back door before leaning down to Andrew, such a worried look on his face.

"Why do I feel like I'm doing something really awful?" he asks, glancing up at me. I'm just bemused, I can't believe he doesn't know why. It's because he's a dad. The best kind there is. "Awww, I'm sorry Andy." he says gently, pulling down the edge of the blanket from beneath Andy's chin. "Daddy does love you mate, honest. Please don't hate me, whatever she does to you..."

"Dennis!" I hiss as Andy murmurs in his sleep. "Stop it, you'll wake him up!"

"Sorry..."

"Do what to who?"

I snort out a quiet laugh at the way Dennis whirls round in surprise at the sound of Pauline's voice, almost tripping over one of the front wheels as he backs up. He just about manages to reclaim his balance and clears his throat. "Pauline!"

She just rolls her eyes and instead turns to smile at me. "Happy Birthday Sharon, love."

"Thanks Paul. Look, can we come in?"

"Course. I'll put the kettle on."

I tilt the buggy up and again, Dennis lifts the front up over the little step, setting it carefully down in the kitchen before he backs up against the counter.

"So... how's your day been so far Sharon?"

Moving round the buggy, I nestle against Dennis as he beckons me into his arms and I beam. "Absolutely perfect, Paul, really has. Except maybe Ian..."

"Ian?" she questions, turning back from the sink having just filled the kettle.

Dennis looks down, chuckling. "He thinks Sharon's pregnant again!"

"Just cos I felt too sick to eat bloody birthday cake, cheeky sod!"

"Hmmm, yes, well Ian never was tactful."

"Can't think where he gets that from." Dennis mutters, so obviously not unheard. I shoot him a warning look.

"So erm, Paul, what are you up to at the moment?"

"Why?" she asks, eyes rightfully narrowed in suspicion. "What d'you want, cos I'm assuming it's not just your birthday present?"

"Er... no. I... we were wondering if you could watch Andrew for a couple of hours?"

"Oh!" And she just about manages to force a smile. "What are you two gonna be getting up to then, anything nice?"

Dennis smirks. "If I told you Pauline, I'd have to kill... myself, bloody Hell!" And given our conversation in the park, I know exactly why my darlin' is laughing so nervously. But Pauline doesn't look amused at all, folding her arms across her chest and fixing Dennis with a cold stare. 

"Language!" she scolds sharply, nodding towards the buggy. "There's a baby present."

"Yeah, but I won't be if you just agree to take him for a bit. I'll get right out of your hair - it's looking great by the way, you tryin' something new?"

I giggle in spite of myself, but seeing that Pauline's unmoved, I push out my bottom lip shamelessly and lace my hands together in pleading. "Please Paul. We just want some time to ourselves and... it is my birthday!"

"Oh!" she scoffs, waving me off. "Go on then. Everything in his bag?"

I nod, quietly saying my goodbyes to my son. "See you later honey, love you..."

"Cheers Pauline. That line works like a charm don't it, she's been using it on me all day- Bye Andy, be good yeah?"

"Oh go on, go, before I change my mind..."

Dennis grins and ushers me out the door, Pauline stood on the other side, ready to close it after us. "I could kiss you-" At her instantaneous stony glare, his smile crashes from his face. In fact, he looks quite bewildered as he gabbles, "-but I won't, of course!"

He steps down and Pauline closes the door. It's only then that I crease into giggles and he dares to breathe.

"Oh shut up!"

"Your face! Oh Dennis, what if she got her hopes up? After all, Joe's not up to it... you gonna go back and make it up to her?"

He shoves me by the shoulder, forcing me a few steps ahead of him as he declares; "Home. Now!"

We're all over each other before we're even through the front door. Hey, we restrained ourselves all the way across the Square, arms simply around one another, Dennis muttering nervously about Pauline's probable "curtain twitching." 

I laughed and assured him she just likes to "look at her community."

"Yeah?" he mused, turning his key in the lock and then rounding on me, pulling me against him. "Then we best give her something to look at - don't wanna disappoint Pauline!" I was still giggling as letting his lips crushed down over mine, kissing me with the fiercest passion I have ever known.

He leads me through the door, his lips never leaving mine, pulling me in deeper as he forces his tongue into my mouth. I welcome such dominance, lifting my foot to kick the door shut. It slams obediently and I feel Dennis' lips curve into a smile against mine as he pushes me up against the wall. 'Cause we're most definitely alone now. And that bestows permission to let our hands go wherever they please. I can never get enough of Dennis touching me; he knows me like no-one else ever has. Everything about him, everything he does is right. And the sum of us is... perfect - I have absolutely no qualms with us giving in here and now. Wouldn't be the first time after all...

My arms laced round his hips, I let one hand dance teasingly across and delve into his pocket, my fingertips closing like pincers around his wallet and pulling it out. Dennis draws back just a tantalisingly little way and rests his forehead against mine, rocking me gently and encouraging the circling of my hips as he says; "There are two reasons you go for a bloke's wallet Sharon..."

"Hmmm?" I press innocently.

"Well, you either want cash- or condoms-"

I splutter on a laugh, my eyes wide as I flip the wallet open, ripping out a five-pound note. "Really? You have condoms in your wallet? That's interesting. Cos since when darlin', apart from those three hideous weeks before a Christmas we won't mention, have we ever used condoms huh?"

A smug kinda laugh escapes the corners of his mouth as he smiles and kisses me again. "Well when I said we've always been careful, what I actually meant was-"

"-that we've never been caught?"

"That's a lie Sharon Rickman, and you know it!"

I crease into giggles at the recollection. "Oh God, poor Dot..."

"It took me a week to look her in the eye after that!"

"Awww baby, I didn't think you had any shame?"

He smirks, assuring me; "I haven't!" with another fierce kiss.

I smile, waving the fiver that's scrunched around my fingertips teasingly at him. "So prove it."

But he pulls back from me, taking the note with him and leaving me begging for his return as he moves off. I follow him out to the kitchen, leaning against the door-frame and watching him as he reaches across the counter-top for the coffee jar. He pushes the note into it. I sigh gently and he turns slowly round, curling his fingertips around the edge of the work surface and stretching out as he gazes at me.

"You didn't want change did you?"

I shake my head certainly. "Lot of things I do want though..."

"Oh yeah?" he enquires, feigning innocence even as that irrepressibably sexy smirk curves his lips. "Like what?"

"C'mere and I'll show you."

But he just raises his eyebrow as he straightens up, resisting me still and frustrating me further. But still, as he opens and leans into the fridge, I am treated to the spectacular view of his jeans straining over his taut buttocks. I hate him for tormenting me like this, and yet all at once, I love it. I want him so much, it almost hurts. But this is what we do, this is what we're good at - teasing one another.

He turns back around, smirking as he realises by the put-out look that can't help but come to my face that I was checking him out. There's a bottle of champagne in his hand.

"Oooh!" I coo appreciatively, impressed. "Really pulling the stops out you aren't ya?"

"Want a glass?"

I move over to him and catch my hand, pressed over his, around the chilled glass of the bottle-neck. Firmly, I drag it from his hand and put it down on the counter with a clunk.

"Stop - creating - distractions." I breathe.

He laughs gently, pulling me in towards him and letting his hands roam listlessly over my entire body. "Yep-" he concedes with an omnious intake of breath. "-so giving up on the romance thing!"

"I don't want you to be romantic, I want-"

But he cuts me off with an astonished look, arms weaved around my waist. "Right. So you weren't hoping we were gonna spend the whole afternoon in bed then?"

I let the tip of my tongue slide across my bottom lip, teasing him as I say; "Well not in bed necessarily." 

But he laughs gently, impressing a firm and promising kiss upon my lips. "Honey, I'll put another tenner in that jar if you can name one place in this whole flat we haven't already done it!"

Still with his wallet in my hand, I toy with it thoughtfully, knowing Dennis' gaze is fixated upon it, just waiting. Proudly, I flip it open and tear out a ten-pound note, loving the way his mouth gapes, eyes ablaze with anticipation as I smugly hand it to him before tilting his chin and pulling back in towards my insistent lips. Holding me close with one arm, I feel him lean back to reach and push the tenner into the jar too.

"Right here darlin'." I whisper silkily, loving how he groans lustfully as my tongue darts teasingly in and out of his mouth. "Right now..."   

And my God, I've never been so damn relieved, or so ready to have him touch me. He pushes me hard against the wall, the force of his own feverish body pinning me there. His hand snakes up beneath my skirt and he wrenches my drenched thighs apart in a way that makes me lunge forward and would have caused me to lose my balance were it not for our proximity. He smiles as he holds me safe, proving to me that he has me, or is it at least ready to.

His eyes lock on mine, never leaving me as he inches my lacy underwear aside and tenderly strokes my clit with the pad of his thumb, tracing tantalising circles as he confidently slides two fingers inside me. I gasp involuntarily, already tremoring with the perfectness of his motion. I stare back at my husband, biting down into my lip to stop myself moaning audibly then and there. His smirk, now more satisfied to have recognised my struggle, stretches up a little higher. Then, he leans in and softly kisses the base of my neck, making my skin burn. 

"What's the matter, baby?" he asks in a humoured whisper against my ear. Knowing I'm without the coherence to reply, I close my eyes, just for a second, lost to every blissful sensation he is causing to rage inside me. I feel Dennis stroke tenderly along my jawline with his other thumb, my eyes snapping open and locking back upon his as he tilts my chin. Not roughly, and hardly any way at all. Just enough so that I know my attentions cannot stray. And I absolutely must not allow myself to slip away into my own world, the gentle shake of his head and the soundless "No..." that comes from his lips reminding me that we must share in every sensation.

And as the undeniable pleasure builds inside me, I can't help but release a shivering moan. At the sound, there's a smug twitch in Dennis' smirk as he looks at me and I look at him, drawn into his eyes, glassy with lust.

"Oh..." I breathe, hardly sure that's what I'm doing after all. "God, Dennis."

He just cocks his head, gazing at me intently, never letting up. "Wha'?" he murmurs, his tone the very essence of seduction, so low, so self-assured, so damn sexy. "Want me to stop?"

Thinking, even just for a second, that he might well do that, that he might stop, my stomach lurches so far, I feel sick, shaking my head fiercely as I try and bite back a whimper of pleading.

"Then tell me what you do want, Sharon c'mon..."

But he knows as well as I do that however mercilessly he teases me, I can barely breathe, let alone speak. I just don't want him to stop making me feel this way.

"No? OK..." He reaches and tenderly strokes down my flushed cheek. "Then I'll tell you what I want shall I?" 

His hand moves away from my heat, and I know he can tell in my bemoaning gasp how much I already miss his touch, happy to have the knowledge in fact. He knows he's torturing me and worse still he knows how much I love it, how much more it makes me want him. He bows his head and kisses my lips so softly, I wonder if I imagined it. I try to show him in my response how much more I want, but he just laughs tauntingly against my kiss and pulls back from me still.

"I wanna taste you."

He's killing me with the anticipation. I swear, after this, I'm gonna fuck him like he's never known before. All five times an' all. Or fifteen if we're counting the tenner. Oh God, I could so do that right now, and hey, there's gotta be worse ways to pass out than from that kinda exhaustion.

Feeling even just the tip of his tongue working expertly against my clit, I almost lose all ability to keep myself upright, my knees are so drastically weakened. But somehow, I remain standing, stubbornly refusing to let anything but the rhythm of my own gasping moans interrupt this unbelievable pleasure. This mouth can do things, make me feel things that, before him, I never knew were there to be experienced. And this time, he doesn't ask, he stops only as I cry out through the crashing orgasm he brings me to. 

Pulling himself up, he watches me intently as I fight to regain my composure, wanting to enjoy the bliss of my release all at once, for him to see how I enjoy it. But I can see he alreading knows, a loving look in his face even if his eyes are still flamed with irrepressible desire. His lips crashing up mine, I grapple to bring him close, just to touch him. I kiss him hungrily and he moans against my lips like his fierce return is a starved impulse. I press into his feverish form as I drink in my own taste, an even more intense longing swirling inside as I feel his hard cock against my groin. I want him now, I need him way too much to wait any longer.

"D'you know what I'm gonna do now, baby?"

I nod jerkily with a whimper of "Mmmm..." completely unable to take my eyes from him. He's so damn mesmerising. And if he don't make this happen then bloody hell, I will, so yes, I do know.

"And is that what you want too, hmmm?"

I don't say a word. I simply reach down with trembling hands and wrench at his fly, pointedly loosening his jeans. "Just do it." I demand lustfully.

Smirking, he nods slowly in approval, letting both his hands drop, stroking simultaneously up my outer-thighs to push up my skirt.

"Right here, huh?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." I reply breathlessly, feeling as if I am entirely wrapped around him and beginning to shiver again with anticipation. "I want you to fuck me right here."

And though, now, I can always seem to find the traces of love in my husband's eyes, I know that this, this one moment of daring was born of incredible lust and a raging passion. Right now, I mean what I say more implicitly than I ever have before. It doesn't matter than I love him, that he loves me. I want him, and no other emotion can override that right now. I want him to fuck me, to act on everything that's smouldering so tantalisingly between the two of us. I could have just met him out on the street and I know I'd want him in exactly the same way and just as much.

I scream unashamedly as he enters me, so relieved to feel him inside me, so ready for him and the every sensation he can bestow. His thrust is torturous, forceful and yet slow. But he seems to take delight in that, knowing well that I can never have enough of him. I writhe helplessly against the wall, trying to counter him to a more furious pace as I cling to him. I see the slightest smile in the corner of his mouth as it comes to mine once again, his tongue invading my mouth as he lifts me up against the wall, withholding his latest thrust to do so. My moan of protest has barely left my throat before our pace resumes and becomes a moan of very different expression.

And it is in this frantic haze that I find I have no trouble, how breathless he renders me, telling him what it is I need to feel. Not that his own desires don't dictate it anyway, he just likes to hear it said, to hear how hard it is for me to form words I am so lost to every pleading emotion and sensation. We are so in sync, we're wild, moaning and crying out each other's names passionately as we surrender to our respective orgasms, our feverish bodies tangled so perfectly as we rock together to ride it out.

Fulfilled, I shakily find I am supporting my own weight against the floor again, just trying to pull in one breath that not quite so shallow that it might satisfy my lungs. Stepping back from the wall, Dennis pulls me against him, his lips taking mine before any other part of our bodies has the chance or the pleasure to touch. But as it deepens, he reaches and, caressing my drenched inner thighs for one more teasing moment, smooths down my skirt before releasing me, that fire still raging in his eyes.

Staggering back, I am supported by the counter-top, which I grip fiercely for stability before I turn around, sweeping up the bottle of champagne. As I move back to face Dennis, I find him fastening his fly.

"I wouldn't bother." I advise breathily, tilting the bottle at him. "Drink, darlin'?"

Expertly, I forgot to grab any glasses, understandably a lot more interested in dragging my incredible husband to bed. But hey, there's more than one way to skin a cat as they say, and there's plenty more ways to enjoy champagne. And yet, I'd still get distracted by my need for him. The afternoon passed in the best of ways. Us making love together, again and again. And as Dennis covered my feverish addicted body in kisses, murmuring smugly how glad he was he'd had to put that additional tenner in the jar, I was sighing in burning anticipation, reiterating how much I loved him, needed him.

And so quickly, those "few hours" I begged from Pauline at midday have become half-past five in the evening. Ooops. Rising regretfully from the warmth, the passion of the bed, tingling as Dennis pushes himself up to rest against his elbow, emits the softest sigh in the place of having to release my hand. I know his eyes are burning lustfully into my bare back as I stand, reaching to pull my dressing gown back around my form. I tie it loosely and leave the room, going through to the lounge to grab the phone.

"What are you doing?" Dennis murmurs as I sink back on the edge of the bed, pressing the keys to dial Pauline's as I go.

"Letting your son know you didn't abandon him."

"Mmmm..." he moans, pushing down my dressing gown where it has become shrugged off my shoulder and kissing his way along the blade before allowing his insistent lips to settle at the base of my neck, making me shudder with longing it pleases him to recognose. "...he'll understand."

"Yeah? You best hope so cos you're the one explaining it to him darlin'! Might I suggest you wait a couple of... decades?"

Dennis snorts out a laugh. "You are joking right? He's gonna have knocked up half the Square by then!"

"Oh what, cos he's gonna be so like his dad?"

"That's libellous."

I turn my head and smirk. "So sue me. You're gonna be the one paying the bill."

The vibration of his soft and humoured laugh tickles my skin as he continues to nuzzle at my neck. Knowing that I neither could or want to shake him off, I simply lift the phone to my ear, growing nervous with each passing ring. Nothing's wrong is it? Oh, I don't think I've ever been so relieved to hear Pauline sing out her sickly sweet greeting down a phone line.

"Hello?"

"Paul, it's Sharon."

"Oh hello, dear."

"Hi. How is he?"

"Absolutely fine. My Martin's entertaining him at the minute, he's in a right playful mood."

"Who, Martin?"

"No, silly, your Andrew!"

"Awww." I coo, pressing my hand to the back of Dennis' head and stroking through his hair to make him stop and offer me his attention as I pull the phone back and turn to him, adoring the quizzical look on his face. "Andy wants to play..."

"Yeah?" Dennis questions, bowing his hed and returning to his previous occupation. "He's not the only one..."

I bite into my lip to suppress a giggle. "Look Paul, I'm sorry... I know I only said a couple of hours but I... got distracted."

"Hmmm, I bet you did."

Yep, the giggle's out. I can't help it. This is like being reprimanded by my mum. Not that my mum woulda done that; no, she'd probably have been giving Dennis the eye herself, cheeky cow.

"Have you been alright with him? Was there enough formula and stuff?"

"Sharon, I remember how to mix up a bottle..."

"No, I know it's just... I don't wanna take advantage."

"Hmmm..." Dennis muses flirtatiously against my ear. "...not like me then..."

Weakened, I turn and fleetingly brush his lips to console him, murmuring "Stop it..." as I fight back another giggle.

"You weren't saying that ten minutes ago..."

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?" Pauline questions in my other ear.

I laugh nervously. "Oh... oh no, not you, Paul... no, Dennis is... playing up." He smiles proudly at such an accusation. "D'you want us to come and get Andrew before he starts an' all?"

"That's up to you. Although I did say I'd meet Derek in The Vic for a drink at six-"

"Understood. We're on our way."

"Well, why don't you and Dennis come have one with us, celebrate your birthday?"

"Oh no, Paul, I'm sorry, but I don't really want Andrew in the pub, all the smoke and that, it's not really right is it?"

"Oh, course, no... sorry dear, I didn't think."

"Don't worry about it. Me & Dennis will come and get him now; I'll spend the night in with my boys. See you in a second. Bye!"

Hanging up, I lean over to place the phone on the bedside table next to the champagne bottle. I turn back to glance at Dennis, who's biting into his lip, releasing another gentle sigh of submission. "C'mon... break it to me..."

I smirk. "Playtime's over..."

He groans reluctantly, grappling for my hand. "Oh Sharon, no..."

"Pauline can't watch him for any longer baby, she's off out. So we have to get dressed to go and collect our baby. OK?" I reach over to press my lips tenderly over his, and it's only then that he brings himself to nod.

He's tying the laces of his trainers and I'm pulling on my jacket when he looks over at the champagne bottle and says; "That'll be flat by the time we get back to it y'know."

Giving him a daring smile, I snatch it up, swinging it in my hand. "Then we'll take it with us! C'mon."

I take his hand and pull him up. But as soon as we're out of the flat and stood on the pavement, he's pulling back, the breath he's drawing in reluctant and apprehensive. He's not that scared of her surely? Does he really think she's about to jump on him?

I turn around with a questioning look and he confesses, with a rather desperate look on his face; "I need a fag..."

Giggling, I keep a hold of his hand and lead him off the kerb, through the Gardens and across the market. He steps up the kerb outside Pauline's, still pulling on my hand and pleading; "Please Sharon... I'm dying here..."

"Yeah, you will be if you carry on like this! What about Andy, huh?"

"Why d'you think I'm asking now? So he don't know, so he don't have to be around it." He pulls me round to face him, sliding his arms around me and gently kissing my lips. "Please?"

Sighing, I relent. "OK. But only cos I'm in such a good mood..." And with a naughty smile as he kisses me gratefully, I lead him over to sit on the stretch of wall between Pauline's place and our old flat. I pull myself up, the champagne bottle sat in my lap, my hands clamped around the neck, watching intently as Dennis pulls the packet from the back pocket of his rumpled jeans and then settles himself beside me. He tosses the packet onto the wall, having withdrawn one cigarette. Holding it between his lips, he lights it from a guarded flame, dropping the lighter on top of the packet and gratefully taking in the first drag.

Catching me watching him, he demands "What?" in a nervous laugh that just makes me giggle and swig defiantly at the champagne.

"God, look at us, we're like a couple of teenagers, swigging booze and smoking fags in the middle of the street."

"Each to their own, I guess." he replies with an amused smirk.

But I shake my head as I gulp down another mouthful of the sweet bubbles. "Speak for yourself." And with that, I pass him the bottle, tweezing his cigarette from between his warm fingertips and pushing it between my own lips. He doesn't see me do this until he tilts the bottle up to his lips. And when he does, he lurches forward, spluttering dangerously.

"What are you doing?" he gasps, struggling to pull in one steady breath.

I smirk as I pull the cigarette back. "What's the matter with you? Never seen a girl toke before?"

"But you don't... you don't smoke!"

"Yeah, only cos living in The Vic all those years put me off the whole idea. It's pathetic really, I never got to do the whole teen rebellion thing-"

"Says she who got engaged to a vicar?"

"Well exactly! It's hardly sex, drugs n' rock n' roll is it? I swear, I only did it cos Dad was gonna hate the idea. Come to think of it, Pauline weren't that impressed either."

Dennis smirks, finally able to drink casually from the bottle again. "If she could see you now eh?"

I look over my shoulder immediately, glancing at the window of her front room. Dennis sees me do it and laughs.

"Looking for the curtain twitching too?"

I laugh uneasily, hunching my shoulders childishly as I turn back. "I dunno what it is about Paul, but she makes me nervous. Think it's cos she's known me for so long, y'know - sometimes she was more of a mum to me than Angie was! I care what she thinks of me, maybe more than anyone-"

Smiling as he looks over at me, he tuts, shaking his head. "Naughty Sharon eh, hanging round with strange boys on street corners-"

"Well exactly." I tease, bowing my head to be closer to him. "Always went for the bad boys, me... she never stopped lecturing me!"

His hand drops over mine, the pad of his thumb stroking across my knuckles. "Lucky you met me then i'n't it?"

His smile widens tellingly as I begin to giggle. "What, you, the model citizen, y'mean?"

"Exactly. I'd never lead you astray like that."

"Not much." I scoff, rolling my eyes and shrugging off his hand to lift the cigarette back to my lips. When I see the way he's looking at me so indignantly, I can't help but demand; "Don't look at me like that. How else you gonna explain what we've been doing for the five hours since we off-loaded our son?"

"Ah!" he breathes knowingly, setting down the bottle down with a clunk, scooting closer to me and levelling his lips to my ear. "You don't want Pauline to know we've been at it." 

I giggle anxiously and hand the cigarette back to him.

He takes it steadily, his eyes still fixed upon me. "God, you're cute."

I snap my head round suspiciously, reaching across his lap to claim back the champagne.

"You're blushing, baby."

"No, I'm not, don't be stupid."

"Yes you are! C'mon Sharon, even Pauline must know we've done it - we've got a kid together for God's sake and she's had three, she must know the drill by now! How can you be embarrassed about sex?"

"Me?" I splutter. "Well, what about you then? When we were staying with her? You hardly came near me! What were you doing... saving yourself?" I raise a dubious eyebrow and he groans, looking away from me in disgust.

"You're sick, y'know that? It's like you can't wait for me to come out and say I've been- eurgh, I don't even wanna think about it!"

"Maybe you were ashamed of me, huh baby? Cos as I remember it, you always used to sneak in on me in the bathroom in the morning-"

"Hey, you always took ages in there, I knew I'd get away with it!"

"You mean, you didn't want Pauline finding out what you were up to."

"Would you?"

"You are joking aren't you? I couldn't hide lads anywhere when I was a teenager." I glance over at The Vic. "I lived there with Mum & Dad for sixteen, nearly seventeen years and y'know how many boys I managed to sneak upstairs in that whole time?"

Dennis purses his lips thoughtfully. "It depends what you were gonna do with 'em really don't it? I mean, were you going through your My Little Pony collection or..." His eyes flare with recollection. "...were you just fucking them brainless?"

"What d'you think?"

"Well-" he muses slowly, rolling his tongue teasingly in the side of his mouth. "-judging on past performance, I'd say-"

But I cut him off, gasping down a particularly large mouthful of champagne, reminded of how much sweeter it tasted upon Dennis' body. "I think I managed sex, that is penetrative sex with two lads, about eighteen months apart. I heard the first lad got hit by a car legging it from Dad - and his trousers were still undone!"

"Ouch!"

"Mmmm-hmmm! And the second, well, we got away with the sex, it was the, er... well, his tongue wasn't in my mouth... he got away with a split lip and a black eye and the he never, uh, finished what he started!"

"Well, the selfish bastard." Dennis laughs with a smirk, quashing the cigarette into the wall.

"Mmmm! So I guess you're right - I am lucky I met you!" I slip off the wall, my heels clicking against the pavement. 

Dennis swings down next to me, pulling me against him. I stretch up and bruise his mouth, loving that I can taste the sweetness on his lips.

"Let's go get our son eh?"

"Hiya Paul, it's only us!"

Pushing against the Fowlers' back door, for it's always open, I call out to Pauline as Dennis & I slide into the kitchen.

"Come through!" Martin calls back.

Gripping Dennis' hand, trying hard not to laugh at the way he seems to be holding onto me even tighter, I lead him through. My poor, terrified darlin'!

Catching sight of Martin sat on that sunken couch, my son propped up in his lap, I gasp happily, only then aware of how much I have missed my precious little baby. His shimmering, darting eyes lock on Dennis and me immediately. Noticing that Andrew's concentration has defected from the game of Horsey, Horsey they were playing on his lap, Martin turns round, lifting Andrew up.

"Who's that? It's Mummy! Yes, it is, look!"

"Hello darlin'!" I coo, rushing forward to swing my son up into my own arms, raising him high and kissing his cheek. "Did you miss us?"

Martin pulls himself up from the couch, an empty coffee mug in his hand, grinning. "Didn't even notice you were gone! Alright Dennis?"

"Yeah, good thanks, mate." And as he gets out the way of Martin going into the kitchen to make another coffee, he sidles up to me, murmuring against my ear; "See, told you!"

"No Dennis, you told me he'd understand."

"And he will, soon as he finds-"

"A street corner?"

"I was gonna say "The One", but if you're just gonna cheapen it-"

I laugh softly, twisting my hip to bring my son face to face with his Daddy. He promptly gives out the widest, most gummy smile I have ever seen him so willingly create.

Dennis grins at my impressed glance and happily gushes back at Andrew, pride burning in his eyes.

"Oh mate, hello! You've missed your Daddy haven't you? Look at that smile, you're gorgeous! Yes you are! Definitely my son, aren't you eh? C'mere!"

And Dennis reaches over to pull Andrew from my arms, I let him take him, guffawing indignantly. "You're not questioning Andy's paternity there are you honey?"

Recognising that for my sweet tones, I'm challenging him, Dennis laughs gently, Andrew with his little arms around his Daddy's neck, nestled into his shoulder. Dennis turns his head, kissing Andrew's soft hair and taking in his gorgeous baby scent. "No way, he's too good-looking to be anyone else's... aren't you baby, huh? You're mine..."

"Just cos he's good-looking?"

"And the sparkling personality too, obviously."

"You, sparkling?"

"Well yeah, I have just been downing champagne in the street-"

Pauline's disapproving tones are all that greets him. "You've been doing what?"

He flinches and I'm fighting not to giggle.

"Pauline!" he replies with a forcified brightness as she climbs down the last few stairs to step into the lounge. "Didn't see you there!"

"No, but I expect plenty of people saw you making an exhibition of yourself! Honestly, Sharon-" she sighs despairingly, turning to me. "-drinking in the street?"

"Oh c'mon Paul, we weren't doing anyone any harm. And besides, if we'd left it, it woulda gone flat."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, we can't have that!"

"Not at seventy quid a bottle we can't, Pauline, no!"

I whirl round. "How much?"

"Don't look at me like that, Sharon, it's your birthday..."

"I know. And I appreciate it baby, really... but seventy quid's like... another pair of shoes!"

It's Dennis' turn to roll his eyes as he swings his hips back and forth, cradling our son. "You're obsessed, I swear!"

"Hey, if I couldn't be obsessed, I'd never have married you, then where would we be, hmmm?"

He bites into his lip, not willing to think on it, instead cuddling further into Andrew, murmuring indecipherably in his little ear that makes him gurgle happily.

"Well, you'd have less people having things to say about the two of you, that's for sure." Pauline interjects. And I love the woman, really I do, but why does she have to be so bloody judgemental all the time? When Dennis and I were first together, she was the one with the most to say, and you'd have thought she woulda wanted me to be happy. I think she's just been forced into accepting that now, especially since Vicki has. There's no argument anymore. I just don't think there's any hope of Pauline ever becoming a fan of Dennis'. Maybe she is jealous!

"They can say what they like!" I tell her firmly. "What Dennis & I do is our business..."

I see him smirk privately. He straightens up, pulling back from Andrew and pumping his tiny little hand around his finger, adoring his every smile. But he catches sight of Pauline's unamused face and sighs heavily.

"Pauline, for God's sake. She ain't fifteen anymore!"

"Well exactly. Galavanting round the Square, acting like teenagers."

Dennis shrugs, challenging; "Well, why not? Look, I know you might not approve, but Sharon's right. It's our business. And I'm her husband, not some sleazy footballer off the Rec she's trying to sneak up to her room for a quick one! You've gotta give me some credit for that, haven't ya?"

Reluctantly, Pauline appears to soften, nodding. Arms folded across her chest, she looks down, mumbling; "Yes... well... I'll say this for you Dennis Rickman... I might not approve of your methods of getting to this point, messing poor Sharon around like you did-"

I'm already there with my defence. "Pauline..." But she cuts me off, lifting her head and fixing her gaze squarely on Dennis.

"-but you are a good father. I can see why Sharon wanted so much for her little boy to belong to you too."

Unable to fight off a smile I can feel on my own lips, Dennis blinks, stunned. "That wasn't... a compliment was it, Pauline?"

"Hmph. Don't expect another in a hurry. Just... do right by your family, that's all."

Proudly, I step up to my husband, kissing first the side of his mouth and then our son's crown, murmuring; "As if he'd do anything else, hey baby? Not Daddy..."

"Pinch me." Dennis whispers as Pauline leaves the room with a backward glance to go and help Martin make up his one mug of coffee. "That didn't really just happen did it?"

"Yes..."

"OK, then I need to get out of here, I can't handle that!"

"What?" I giggle. "Pauline being nice to you?" I stretch up and whisper teasingly in his ear; "It's begun baby... she wants you!"

He grimaces as he holds our son protectively. "C'mon Andy, we're getting out of here..."

"Aren't you gonna put him in the buggy?"

Sheepishly, he turns back to me and pleads; "Don't make me put him down, honey. I've missed him."

I just beam. "You're adorable, you know that?"

Quickly checking that everything's in the bag, I wheel the buggy out into the kitchen, following my boys.

"Oh, aren't you staying?"

"No... you get off to the pub, Paul, thank you so much!" I give her a hug and when I draw back, smile at Martin. "And you Martin, seems like you're quite a natural..."

He colours a little, hunching his shoulders as he stirs his coffee. "Yeah well, you ever need a babysitter..."

"Oooh!" I muse with an impressed nod. "I'll tell Sonia you said that."

It's much easier to tip the buggy's front wheels over the step. Dennis can hear them rattling though and swings round to offer his help. But seeing how carefully, how lovingly he holds his baby boy, I don't wanna disturb that, shake my head wordlessly. When we reach home, I wave Dennis away, leaving him to take Andrew wherever he pleases. I force the buggy down and put it back in the closet. No more shoe boxes in here. Pity.

But right now, I don't necessarily care where the third box is, or if there is a third box at all. I just wanna get back to my boys. Peeking my head round the door to the lounge, I see they're not in there, so go straight through to the bedroom. And I shrink back a little, hit by this wave of adoration. Because Andrew is propped up against a pillow, Dennis stretched out on the bed, pumping his son's little hand and murmuring;

"You're incredible, you are. Who'd believe you're half me eh? I love you... yes he does, Daddy loves you so much smiley boy. My boy, wow. You and your Mum, you're the only two things I ever got right and I'm so proud of both of ya. Your Mum cos she's daft enough to love me, after everything and you-" He tickles shamelessly at Andy's tummy. "-cos you happened didn't ya? Our little miracle. All your Mummy ever needed you are. Besides... a little help from Daddy, but she's told me I ain't allowed to talk to you about that yet, so-"

Beaming with pride and as I try not to laugh, I lean against the door, carefully pulling off each of my beautiful shoes off my feet, dropping them by the side of the bed. I press my knee into the mattress, clambering across. 

"Hey darlin'."

As I move to lie down beside him, I swipe his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. Settling beside him, he watches me in bemusement as I flip it open and rifle through it.

"What are you doing?"

Finding nothing however, I let it drop onto the bed. "D'you know what'd happen if I found condoms in your wallet, Dennis?"

Teasing me, he muses thoughtfully, a laugh bubbling on his lips as he bites into the bottom one; "Ummm, you'd start asking really awkward questions?"

I nod down at Andrew. "We wouldn't be making anymore babies."

The laugh is gently born. "That's kinda what they're for, Sharon..."

"What, so you don't want us to have any more kids then?"

"Did I say that?"

"Well, do you?"

He hunches his shoulders, really thinking about it this time. And Andrew, with his little brow furrowed seems captivated by his Daddy's look of concentration.

"If it happens then, great. If it don't, then OK. I've got everything I ever needed right here."

I smile as his soft lips meet mine.

"So what would you do if I told you I was pregnant?"

Eyes wide, he splutters on his surprise. "You're not, are you?"

Giggling softly, I shake my head. "Nope. Still popping the Pills like a good girl. But... what if I was?"

"Then... wow."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Though... I might have to give the birth a miss this time..."

I roll my eyes. "Wish it was that easy for me!"

"Oh Sharon, c'mon, you practically broke my hand!"

"Oh you liar!" I scoff. "I bruised it! That's the flesh and not the bone before you try that one on me, Dennis Rickman!" I look despairingly down on our son. "Don't listen to your daddy, Andrew. He's lying, the bloody drama queen. It was Mummy that suffered. Didn't give me an easy time did you, honey? What did I ever do to deserve that, hmmm? Besides give Daddy a cheap thrill in making you..."

"Cheap? Are you having a laugh?"

"No. And neither would you be if you'd ever given birth." I say seriously. He just laughs.

"Alright, point taken." And he leans over, kissing me. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For making him mine. It's amazing, just thinking "I'm a dad" and then I'll see you with him and be like "Wow, she's such an incredible mum." Cos you are darlin', and I don't think I'll ever be over the fact that it's to our kids, some perfect little life we've made, just you & me. I dunno, it's like it's too perfect, like I'm gonna wake up or something and none of it will be real... ow!"

As he turns to me, accusation alive in his face, I giggle. "You told me to pinch you."

"Yeah, like ten minutes ago!"

I shrug. "Well, you didn't wake up did you?"

He smiles. "No. No, I didn't."

"Welcome to reality, Dennis. Me, you and our son."

We both glance at him, love swelling in us both as we realise; "Awww, he's asleep."

"D'you reckon we'll get away with putting him down now?" I whisper cautiously, not wanting to disturb him.

"I dunno, why?"

I smile naughtily. "Why d'you think?"

"Oh..."

"By my count, you're still owed seven of those ten pounds."

"You are an incredible woman, Sharon Rickman, and I'm proud to call you my wife, you know that?""

"I do. Now are you gonna put him to bed or am I?" 

Dennis does it, but I'm beginning to think I shoulda done. Because as adorable as it is to look upon, he just can't seem to bring himself to step back from the cot. There's so much love in his eyes, totally in awe of this one tiny little person that's because of him. Well, not tiny exactly. Andy was only tiny when he was an absolute baby, completely brand new. But since, he's just grown and grown, becoming his own little person and sometimes, it scares me to realise that's what he is, because he's so innocent. That isn't gonna last, he's his daddy's boy through and through, smouldering eyes and naughty smile.

But that's not what's engrossing Dennis so much. It's so obvious he finds that innocence so bloody mesmerising, leaning down to lovingly stroke our little boy's soft and warm cheek.

"Dennis..." I murmur, stretching across the bed as I rest my chin in my palm watching him. I sound so... impatient, which I am, and really, I don't mean to begrudge him time with his own son but...

He seems to understand, tearing his eyes away long enough to glance at me and smile apologetically. "Sorry. I just can't stop looking at him. He's gorgeous..."

"Yeah-" I agree, pulling myself up from the bed as his gaze returns to Andrew. I stand beside him, my hand pressed over his as it rests against the edge of the cot. "-that's cos he looks just like his dad."

Dennis beams proudly, but shakes his head gently. "He's got your pout, look..."

"Got the best of both of us then?"

"Yeah. Made the best of us an' all."

Locking my fingers through his, I squeeze his hand. "Why d'you think I wanted him so much for you huh? Cos I knew you'd be perfect."

"No-one's perfect." he argues quietly. But all he has to do is look down and he relents, with the softest of sighs. "Except him."

I smile, able to do nothing but agree. He pulls my hand back, holding it protectively in his own before he draws me against him, kissing me softly.

"And us."

"Yeah. And us darlin'." But now I'm under the same spell Dennis is, totally unable to bring my eyes from the adorable sight of our sleeping son, nestled under his blankets. "Hey, listen, I was thinking, if Ian ever stops making Andy cry- what?"

"Nothing." Dennis replies quickly, totally unable to suppress the smirk that's upon his lips. "Oh c'mon, don't you even find it a little bit funny a kid we named after Andy Hunter is scared of Ian Beale?"

I giggle. "He'd be ashamed, wouldn't he?"

"Nah, he'd love it. The name bit that is. He'd take Andy under his wing, I reckon, teach him stuff..."

"Repeatable stuff?"

"Yeah..." he muses, shrugging nonchalantly. "...like how to make Ian cry!"

"That's easy. You just hide his piggy-bank. Anyway, like I was saying... we should get Ian to bring Bobby round here. Him and Andrew could make playdates..."

"Playdates?" Dennis echoes with a disbelieving look. "Honey, Andy's only four months old."

"Yeah, I know." I nod, clasping both his hands as I lead him in a backward stride towards the bed. "I'm just saying, he's getting older, he needs to be stimulated."

Feeling his smirk against my lips as he kisses me, twisting his hip into me so I drop back against the bed, Dennis finally understands that I want his attention and is all but ready to bestow it. "Mmmm, he gets that off his mum."

I pepper his lips hungrily, so alive and ready to have my husband prove his point. "Keep talking..." I urge silkily.

But I moan in frustration as he pulls back from my kiss, his arms surrounding me as he murmurs; "Only if you shut up going on about Ian-"

"Awww Dennis!" I tease, unable to resist the temptation. "You're not worried he's got the hots for you an' all are ya?"

"Oh will you shut up? Anyway, I ain't having my son hanging round with Beale's kid."

"Oh yeah? And what have you got against Bobby huh?"

"Nothing. I just don't appreciate the influences he's under, that's all. Andy'll go weird on me, won't he? I dunno, like when he starts talking it'll all be about overheads and business plans! And anyway Sharon, Bobby's way older than Andrew, he ain't ready to be battered round the head by a Tweenie just yet." 

"A Tweenie huh? Well, you'd know I suppose. You've slept with most of them haven't ya darlin'?"

He smirks, gently forcing me back against the bed, our lips meeting again and again, each kiss a little deeper than the last. "The bossy one with the blonde hair does it for me... she reminds me of someone, can't think who..."

Staring at me for a moment, I pull myself up, pushing him back. Reading the irritation in my face, he just props himself up on his elbow, grinning like mad.

"I could seriously go off you y'know."

"No you couldn't."

Somehow excited by his certainty, I can't help but tease him. "How would you know?"

"I just do-" he assures me, straightening up to press my unexpectant lips. "-but if you need it proving to ya..."

He gets up and turns back towards the top part of the wardrobe. I can't help but writhe from the height of my knees, trying to catch a look at what he's doing. I mean, what's he hiding up there?

He turns around, clambering back onto the bed and pulling me back against the propped pillows, into his arms. I giggle like a kid as I snuggle into him, molding my hand around his knee as he bends it, foot pressed into the duvet.

"Here you go." he grins, feeling that I'm tremoring with anticipation. 

I take the white envelope, and it's only then I realise the one thing I haven't had today is my birthday card from Dennis. A man that dishes out diamonds and designer shoes before the birthday card; I married well, I did.

"Open it and I'll tell you where the shoes are..."

I stretch up to kiss him firmly. "I think I love you..."

He feigns hurt. "Just think?"

"Well, I haven't read the card yet have I?"

"Hmmm." he muses thoughtfully, kissing my crown. "I s'pose not."

I pull eagerly at the seal, sliding the card out. And reading over the words on the front, I know I'm in for a laugh.

To My Wife
You're the reason I get out of bed in the morning... 

I open the card with a sideways look of bewilderment at Dennis. But he just grins. And that's infectious. I'm giggling as the two loved up cartoon cats from the front, suddenly spring up from the inside as two rather... occupied cats.

...and the reason I [s]can't[/s] don't wait to get into bed at night!

Sharon,

Happy Birthday

You amaze me darlin'. Thank you for everything. I love you.

Forever.
Dennis xxx

I lean over to kiss him, murmuring in a giggle; "So which cat am I?"

"Dunno. We'll have to find out..."

For some reason, he glances pointedly down. There's another envelope that I didn't even notice fall into my lap when I opened the card. But Dennis isn't giving anything away. So I set the card down and pick up the envelope. I slide my fingernail beneath the edge, but I bite into my lip, somehow loving teasing myself. This envelope is a lot more slender. Hmmm...

"What are you playing at, baby?"

"Why ask when you can just find out hmmm?"

"You're teasing me..." I simper.

"Will you just open it?"

Loving how despairingly humoured he sounds, I giggle and pull eagerly at the seal.

"Eurostar?" I murmur, admiring the tickets before turning my head and beaming at Dennis. I can't believe this. "You're taking me to Paris?"

"Well, it is your birthday i'n't it?"

"Paris?"

"Mmmm-hmmm. Thought you'd go in for the "city of romance" stuff, and all them designer boutiques on the Champs-Élysees..."

"Oh my God..."

And my surprise, the way I'm shaking in his arms, it seems to be all Dennis needs to know he's planned a winner here. His hand wrapped around mine, he lifts it, tenderly kissing my knuckles.

This thought occurs. A terrible thought. "You thought I was forty didn't ya?"

He drops my hand, spluttering on a laugh. "No!"

"But you've... Dennis, the ring... £300 worth of shoes, trip to Paris... you wouldn't do all that unless you thought-"

"Oh right, so it's not enough that you're my wife and I love ya, and that it's your birthday and I wanted to spoil ya? I've gotta age you with it?"

I shrug awkwardly. "Well... I've always been the older woman right; you don't need to know how much older."

"Almost five years." he tells me pointedly. "You're thirty-seven, I'm thirty-two and our son's almost four months old." As I nod approvingly, he kisses me lightly and questions; "So what do I get for the besides the Brownie points?"

"Ah. We might have a problem there. I was never in the Brownies. I took dance lessons instead."

He bows his head, laughing quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand playfully.

"I saw you and Andy yesterday Sharon... radio going in the kitchen? That was not dancing!"

"Of course it wasn't. Four month old clamped to my hip screaming for his dinner? And anyway, you best not be criticizing my moves, Dennis, or Paris is gonna be a bit of a let-down isn't it?"

"Yeah well, as long as you never want sex to that song..."

"Oi! There is nothing wrong with Whitney Houston!"

"You're talking our four month old son here Sharon, very impressionable?"

"Yeah!" I retort sarcastically, rolling my eyes as I snuggle into him. "So looking forward to the teenage years with you around to guide him Dennis. I just know I'm gonna be shooing girls out of his wardrobe and God knows where else..."

"The wardrobe?" he echoes in amusement. "God, that's cliché!"

"So's the weekend in Paris but I'm not complaining!"

"Yeah, but you probably will be. It's all cobbles in the cultural bits i'n't it? There's no way you're gonna get away with the shoes around there."

"The shoes!" I gasp excitedly, pulling myself up. "Dennis, where's the third box?"

He smiles knowingly. "I'll tell you-"

"Go on then!" I shoot back impatiently.

"-once I've-" He smirks, his arms still surrounding me as he pushes his weight forward, bringing me back against the bed as his lips crash down on mine, working them open with a breath-taking ferocity as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth.

You know what? You don't even need shoes when you've got kisses like these, caresses that make your skin burn for every inch that is exposed. I want him so much. And I love how he can ignite such a need in me so instantly, like all he needs to do is click his fingers. Not that that is it. I'd much rather he was touching me. Except this time, it's an innocent kinda touch, gentle caresses, which just makes it even more sexy. Cos there's always that (extremely remote!) chance he's going to get up and leave me helpless in this kinda fever. I know he wouldn't though. He much prefers fevers that rage.

I press his lips again and again, enjoying his taste, the depth and the fierceness of his mouth.

"Once you've what?"

"Well, I guess that depends on you don't it?" he tells me smoothly, gently stroking strands of hair back from my face. "On what you want..."

Loving the obviousness of the suggestion in his tone, I bite thoughtfully into my lip. He knows damn well what I want, but hey, nothing wrong with a little teasing. Keeps things healthy.

"What I want? Hmmm, well, I dunno. You've delivered pretty well today, baby."

He smiles proudly, lips crashing against mine again and stealing my breath in a fiercely deep kiss. I let my hands roam eagerly, pulling him down harder on my mouth, wanting the rest of his body to fall in sync, hard against me.

As he kisses me still, he laughs gently, making my lips tingle.

"What?" I question.

"Well, I was just thinking... you got outta Pauline's without taking your birthday present with you..."

"I've been trying to do that for the last thirty-four years... now can you just shut up so I can get on with at least trying to seduce you?"

He laughs again, a perfectly kissable soft laugh of mocking. "I love you y'know..."

I smile as I lift myself back up, arms wrapped tight around Dennis' neck and still utterly involved in his kiss. I loosen my hold as he sits back on his knees, moving to straddle his lap. He supports me willingly, loving how slowly I choose to bear down on his stirring groin, my feet locked comfortably around his hips, rested on the soft duvet.

"Only cos I can't help but wanna fuck you."

He smirks as he lets his eyes, ablaze with lust travel down my form, his hands kneading idly at my dampened thighs.

"I could start to feel so used..."

"Oh baby..." I simper teasingly, pressing his mouth firmly. "...I thought that was what you wanted?"

He smirks again, letting his hands slide further up, pressing gently into my sensitive heat, making me gasp. He knows I'd never forget.

"So what about you eh? I mean... you can't be expecting me to play nice?"

"Never..."

And with that, I cage his lips, kissing him harder than I ever have before, needing to feel his return more than the breath in my body. I just want him to touch me, to keep touching me, making me crazy. No-one has ever had the effect on me that he does. He's an addiction. And I'm getting desperate for a fix. His fingertips stroking at my clit, although incredible, is not enough. I want him and deeper into this frenzied kiss, we're up, tearing frantically at each other's clothes. And I'll admit to a stirring of pride as I wrench at his fly and hear his jeans pool at his feet. He smirks against my mouth as he kicks them away, lifting me up against him. I wrap my legs instinctively around his hips, his hardened length nestled promisingly against my heat. I moan appreciatively against his mouth and he lays me down on the bed, thrusting up into me before I even register that his kiss has left me.

I cry out, my feverish body at last alive as I writhe, wanting desperately to counter him with the bucking of my hips and allow him a pleasure no-one else can bestow. Cos my darlin', he deserves everything. And I'm more than willing to let him take it. Our bodies rise and fall simultaneously with this rhythm, our arms desperate to embrace one other as we touch, knowing how, knowing when. I love how, my moans, unsuppressed and fulfilled in sound, Dennis', although quieter, are so much more intense, the vibration of which rumbling across the slope of my neck and making it tingle as he litters it with passionate kisses and sucks hungrily at my skin, marking me as his. It makes me wince with the most desirable of agonies and it's all I can do to breathlessly will him on, pleading for his mouth anywhere it may go. It's like he'll devour me, body and soul.

And when his mouth isn't upon my body, the desires still rage on as he murmurs how our connection feels to him, what he's anxious to do next. And still I'm lost to how passionately we are making love. I can feel the pleasure building, more and more still as our pace differs. Tears begin to build in the corners of my eyes because I'm so desperate to let go, moaning and crying out for him louder than I ever have before. But I don't want to. Because I know well there is so much more to come and want to know it all. I never want to stop.

But Dennis, love softening the lustful fire in his eyes, presses his mouth desperately to mine, drawing me into another deep kiss, so far that O am no longer aware of my own heart beating. All I want to know is him. Forever.

He knows me however, he knows my body and he knows how his own manipulates such fevers, assuring me breathlessly; "It's OK baby. It's OK..."

Lost to his gorgeous eyes as they sear into mine, I force myself to draw in one breath of air he watches me swallow with the smallest smile, as I idly stroke through his hair. That smallest smile because a satisfied smirk as he reads the daring in the look I return to him and our lips crash eagerly together, my hand almost locked in his messed hair. And as we kiss, our bodies rock slowly together, slowly releasing the shuddering waves of perfection. The sounds of appreciation as we tremor against one another is lost to the ferocity of our kiss.

And as we finally break apart, quite without the will to abandon each other's mouth, peppering lips with reassuring and thankful kisses, I snuggle down into his arms, spooned up into the warmth of his body. And I love watching how his body, still completely away from his control, shudders, knowing that I do too, recovering still from the last few pleasurable waves of a very intense orgasm.

My hand too is pressed into his chest, my thumb teasingly stroking over his hardened nipple. I love how he tries so hard not to gasp. He's so sensitive. I love awakening him. 

I'm here, just amazed... at how everything... everything feels so right. I have... everything, right here in this room. Romance, love, incredible sex. And it don't just exist to be incredible does it? Cos I have my baby, my precious little boy. A part of Dennis and me forever. And that is what the gorgeous ring upon my finger, somehow looking even more sparkly now, promises me, straight from the ever kissable mouth of my gorgeous husband. I have forever.

And I'll spend it... dancing with my son... searching for that third pair of KG's. I'd look now, but I don't want to leave the warmth of this bed, of Dennis. I'm content here. And no doubt I'll be even more content in a kingsize bed in a Parisian hotel, It is after all, the most romantic city in the world. What kind of fool won't make the best of that?

This has been the best birthday ever.