“Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.”

Probably, the man should have been exceptionally embarrassed. But he was so thrilled to have her there at all, especially to have her laughing, that Oliver merely grinned at her cheekily, leaning back on his palms. "Yes, I'm afraid I am one of those," he admitted with a shrug. "But I do reserve such wonderfully attractive phrases as that one for you alone, so that's something, I suppose."

A grand laugh escaped when he heard her snort, after which he added, "Sounds like I'll just need to practice, hmm? After... a few tries, I could probably come up with something better. Probably best to go with several tries to be sure." And perhaps that would be what he claimed as his purpose in saying the stupid thing. It wasn't entirely true, but Oliver supposed he might be able to get away with it.

When she sank to the floor, though, his smile softened, having no choice but to think back on the last time she had settled in his lap. Only, that time she had been relatively unwitting. His fingers brushed along her hips fondly, the smile transitioning easily into a look of pure appreciation and agreement following her comments. His reply caught in his throat as she continued, the thin fabric doing maddening things to his thoughts. A groan, deep in his throat, made itself known when she - unwittingly or not - used a second double entendre and paused.

Cold tile or not, Oliver lifted himself enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it away where it slapped into a cabinet but was ignored by the man who had sent it away. His trousers, too, needed to go. Immediately. So he tried to rescue her from the sudden chill of the floor by holding her to his chest as he turned them over.

"Is that a threat, Alice?" he asked, a dark gaze meeting hers as he endeavored to be more serious now that he was growing far too impatient. "If so," he added quickly, a thumb crossing the top of her ribcage, "you'd better follow through. Otherwise you'll never make it to work again. ...Though, you might not, regardless."

His hands slipped beneath her back, helping to release the clasp he found there. Haste took him again, despite the fact that he wanted to make a point of showing her precisely how perfect he thought she was. So Oliver dropped a quick kiss to the underside of her jaw, doing away with the rest of his attire before proceeding with hers as well.

From there, it took little thought but a good deal of effort, and Oliver somehow found himself lying flat again, looking up at her. His hands tried to map out everything they could while the man himself held on until she had let go. His head fell back, breath still heavy even as he pulled her against his chest and circled his arms around her smaller frame. The chill of the floor caught up to him, making him shiver with the realization that they were still in the kitchen. Oliver sat up enough to lean against the closest cabinet, lifting Alice as best as he could and turning her so her feet both rested to one side of his legs and so she could lean against his chest and hear his heart as it tried to resume its normal tempo. Provided she wasn't focused on her own, of course, and bothered to listen to it.

After speaking so recklessly earlier, and not registering how absurd the phrase would sound upon speaking it, Oliver decided that perhaps it would be best to just stick to things that he knew would be accepted. As much as he was wanting to say something like, 'We have got to do that again,' he did want to be the romantic Oliver that she had not been thoroughly privy to. Especially not if you counted the version she saw at her house -- sick and completely unaware of how uncaring he seemed.

"Sorry I'm such an idiot, Allie." He murmured his little confession into her hair, "You just make me really happy and I forget, sometimes, that I've said and done those idiotic things, because you're wonderful and you let me try to make it better. And I want to be better, love. I know that you're too good for this, but that's just too bad," he added seriously, rubbing her back and her legs to help scare away any cold that might have snuck up on her. "You're mine and I love you. I want us to be happy together rather than scared and apart. Even if we're a little scared, still, at least we're both here."

“You’re a wonderfully charming dolt,” Alice swore, her grin lighting up her face as she leaned in to kiss him. “And oh, yes, it’s a threat,” she promised him, peppering kisses across his shoulders, smiling into his skin unrepentantly. “We’ve got as long as you want,” she uttered, wiggling a little at the emphasis on several. “Try hundreds of different ways if you like. I have absolutely no obligations to go in early tomorrow. But I might want to get up to see if I can focus on that skirt issue, hm? What was it again? Skirt and no knickers? Knickers, no skirt? I can’t remember.”

Alice let him shed her of the last of her clothing and laughed a little, a tinkling little tease of a laugh that made her lean over him to press her lips to his jaw, her breath tickling at his skin as their chests came together, their hearts scurrying behind their ribs. “It’s a promise, Oliver,” was her breathy reply. There was, after all, only so many things a girl could stand to remember in the mornings. Just getting up was a trial enough and never mind figuring out how suspender clips worked in the dark of the morning. If she had to remember one article of clothing, another would have to go – that was simply the way of things.

Lost amidst the indulgence of skin, the rhythm of their bodies, she abandoned herself until she could hold herself up no more. Spent and gasping, she fell against his chest, closing her eyes as she tried to gather herself together once more. She sighed contentedly as Ollie gathered her up and she rested her head against his chest, wondering absently as their hearts began to level, almost in time. She turned her head into him and pressed her lips there before looking up at him.

“You’re not an idiot,” she whispered, bringing her hand to his cheek. “I love you, Ollie. With you, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t want to lose you again. It was awful without you. I don’t want us to be apart again. Not like we were.” She drew her fingers across his shoulders and sighed gently, wishing that they could take back the time they’d lost. But then, it was right, she supposed, because that time had taught them how to value each other; it did make the heart grow fonder.

“Are you any hungrier?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully. It felt a bit funny to her now to be naked on her kitchen floor. She laughed, lifting an arm over her chest, blushing colour down her cheeks and neck as she reacted to the strangeness of their presence on the kitchen floor. Any serious she had couldn’t maintain itself, though, and she laughed again openly, shaking her head. “D’you want something comfier to wear, love?”

She got to her feet and looked down at herself, glad that she put a bit of effort into maintaining her slimness, otherwise she was sure she’d be blushing even more than she already had been. She walked a little bit quickly and then half-skipped to her bedroom in order to find something to wear. Out of the airing cupboard which, for some reason, was next to her wardrobe in her room, she took a soft blue nighty off of the tank and slipped it over her head, the material falling to her mid-thigh before opening up her wardrobe, letting the airing cupboard fall closed.

After taking out a non-descript t-shirt and fetching a pair of drawstring pyjama bottoms, she enlarged both and returned to the main room, handing the clothes over to Ollie, leaning up to give him a kiss. She smiled and looked at the half-finished dinner, taking her wand out from behind her ear and encouraging her magic to finish it off. The utensils began to move of their own accord, making up the ravioli, and slicing out the pieces. She wound her arms around Ollie’s middle and snuggled into him, happiness reverberating through her.

“Do you think it’s worth working out what we want to do?” Alice asked gently, looking up at him wondrously. “I mean, with us. Like … I dunno. Maybe clear any of the air that’s still musty? I think our mistake before was we should’ve talked. I know it might be okay now but maybe … maybe setting a precedence for it would make it better? I dunno,” she smiled shyly. “Maybe not even us. Just… talk. You know? And eat, obviously, once I’ve stopped babbling at you.”

"Can't remember?" Oliver asked, playing along. "I think I'm doing my job right, then, so far." If he were being properly honest with himself, Oliver would have had to admit the surprise he felt following his own words. He may have tried his best to charm girls in the past, but this was certainly not his typical way of going about it. In fact, he might have been wiser to keep it to himself. After all, keeping quiet would not be achieved, so he couldn't claim to have been trying for that, whether or not he held the words back. So why bother, right? May as well just make it entirely obvious to Alice what she had signed up for, unwittingly or otherwise.

Another thing he should have noted in the moment: she had used his full name. The only other time she had done so - at least, to him directly - was when she was completely furious with him. In retrospect, he had to wonder what that relationship between the two events was. Perhaps the high emotions involved? The adrenaline, equally could have caused it. Either way, he actually rather liked it this time. Before, he most certainly had not. She had accused him of not giving her enough time, that day, after hearing him try to rationalize the confusing thoughts in his brain despite being unwell. Enough time to sort herself out, she had said. But it was clear, Oliver felt, that he had simply found himself histrionic in his inability to handle waiting. He had wanted then, and clearly still did, to have her completely and want him in the same way. Waiting for either of them to figure out what they were doing with their lives had become exhausting, especially when she nearly confessed her feelings or slept in his arms as though it were entirely normal. Of course it wasn't. Now, perhaps, it made a bit more sense.

But the one part that still nagged at him was the fact that she had pointed out that she wasn't brave enough, then, to take a chance on being with him. What could have possibly changed? He, on his side of things, had done what he could to come to terms with his work and how it affected his family. That, he felt, had been sorted to some extent, and after the ridiculous misfortune of the Ministry's false vaccine trial, Oliver had decided that taking risks just because Thalia was gone was not at all the proper way to go about it. All he knew, really, was that Alice had merely looked at him and come charging up to kiss him, and he had never been more relieved or more happy in his life. Not even counting the moment he got the news that his first book would be published. That was nothing compared to the feeling of having her in his arms, ignoring all of the idiots in his father's office who had gawked or made their various noises of surprise.

He didn't care if he might make mistakes. Not anymore. There was no room for cowardice within him, when it came to Alice. He would undoubtedly cause a number of issues throughout their time together, and that was to be expected, he felt. Especially knowing his impeccable track record with women (read: god-awful past with women). But, by God, he wasn't going to let his temper get the better of him again. Not around her. Or, if he did, he only hoped that she loved him enough to tell him he was being stupid, so he could be kept from doing something particularly absurd. Well, more absurd than usual, at the very least.

"If I have anything to say about it, we won't be," he assured her, his fingers tucking a loose section of hair behind her ear even as Alice's hands followed the line of his shoulders. It was as he told Paul: now he was excessively determined, if only because he had been told that it probably wouldn't work. And maybe that was what he actually wanted when he tried to get told off and sent away. Frankly, Oliver had asked himself what he had been vying for, aside from Alice's well-being, several times during their days apart. Intuitively, he should have been able to put the pieces together, but so much had gone wrong that he had stopped trying to understand it long ago.

Oliver laughed again in response to her question, wanting to made a fairly crude comment about it, but Alice looked embarrassed enough already. So he just nodded and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. "I think we're due for some dinner and a movie, don't you?"

When she stood, he finally registered some embarrassment of his own for being sat there on the floor in nothing, and he started hunting for his clothes. At Alice's question, though, he nodded and passed her a grateful nod, reaching for his boxers. He could get away with wearing them until he went home, he figured. When she returned, he nearly laughed at what was handed to him, but he donned the offered clothing nonetheless.

The food started sorting itself out, surprising him a bit, but Oliver couldn't find it in him to complain when Alice returned to his side and curled around him. He shook his head in a sort of amused disbelief, but smiled at her and kissed her forehead once she had finished. "I think," he replied, "that there is a high chance of me making a big mistake like that again. In all honesty. Because as much sense as it makes in my head, it doesn't come out right. So, at least on my end up things, it would be beneficial for you to stop me if I'm saying something wrong. If you don't understand it, or if it hurts you in some say. I'm half decent at writing, apparently, but if I have to just say what I'm thinking it doesn't seem to work." Oliver frowned slightly, running his hands up and down her back. "It isn't like I want to write everything down. I just need to... well, I need to be told when I'm saying something stupid."

Oliver hugged her closer to him, resting his chin on her head as he sighed. "The thing I don't want to do is say something so wrong that it makes you want to leave again. I didn't-... That is... Allie, you've changed things in ways I can't explain. I don't know that there are even words for it, really. I told you about everything that happened, in the past," he pulled back to look at her and to bring his fingers around to brush over her cheek. "I didn't think that I'd ever manage to work it out. I had sort of decided that it would be better to go it alone and that I was just going to live with it. But I can't imagine doing that anymore, Alice. Not since you."

It was funny to have Ollie in her flat with a strange dog sat on the sofa watching television with mindless disinterest. It was strange to have dinner cooking itself while they stood in pyjamas having just poured everything out to each other on the kitchen floor. It was bizarre that it had taken them so long to get there. It seemed equally unfathomable to her that they would – but here they were. Happy, too, she felt she could say. Yes – they were happy.

“I always forgive you,” Alice promised, lifting her head to look at him after placing a kiss to his chest. She smiled a little, the expression curling her little lips still red from where they’d been feverish in their exhibition of affection. “But I’m not going to let you dig yourself into a hole, promise,” she laughed a little, snuggling further into him, taking solace in everything about him: his arms around her, his smell, his words. All of it. Him.

“I’m not going to go anywhere,” her voice dropped a little lower as insistence and earnestness crept into her voice. “Not ever, if you want me. I didn’t want to go. I just … I felt like … I felt like I couldn’t or I wasn’t meant to or that you didn’t want me there and I wasn’t … I panicked, I suppose. But, you don’t have to be alone anymore, you’re right. At the very least,” her lips quirked a little bit at the sides. “Lemon likes you quite a bit.”

She leaned up, stealing a kiss from him before pulling back, catching hold of his hands. She brought them to her lips, pressing them against his knuckles, and then encouraged him over to the sofa with a tug. Lemon squidged up, anticipating Alice dumping herself onto the sofa which she did indeed do, pulling Ollie down with her before snuggling up against him.

“Dinner’s coming,” she said, reaching for the remote, flicking Netflix into life before handing it over to him. “It’s your turn to pick them movie, love,” she added, recalling the last time they’d sat down together. It’d been so long ago and the thought made her move a little closer to him as though she was afraid he was going to slip away from her again.

“Have you been writing much lately?” She asked all of a sudden, looking up at him. “Or have I asked that?” her brows furrowed thoughtfully, not sure if she had or not. “I’ve been reading lots lately, thinking about it. I got stuck in the sort of bizarre sections of Flourish and Blotts and found this,” she leaned down to grab a book out from on the shelf under her coffee table. It was well-thumbed, the spine broken in numerous places, and a cute corgi-themed bookmark poked out of the top. She handed it to him absently, smiling a little.

“I dunno whether it’d be your thing but um, it’s a bit different and kind of quirky and cool and a bit mad. I really like it. Weirdly it also goes with the aesthetic of the room, the cover I mean. So yeah. Oh gosh, there’s this really funny bit in the middle,” she took the book back as inspiration struck and opened it up, the spine giving as she flipped through the pages in search of the bit she’d actually highlighted in bright pink pen one evening when she’d taken time off of her files to read a bit more. “There,” she handed it back. “I love it. You need to let me read something of yours, Ollie. I mean, maybe not bound cause I kind of … ruin books. This has been everywhere with me, though, so it’s seen a bit of the world. But yeah. Someday, maybe?”

"I know," he breathed quickly, trying to help Alice end her fumbling about for words. "I know, I'm sorry. I half wish I hadn't gone with your mum, or asked her to bring you over or... I don't know," he admitted, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. "I should have gone about everything differently, starting with the bail situation. I'm just terrible at hiding how I feel, when it comes to things like this. I should have learned by now, but you clearly know I haven't managed it."

He cringed a bit at the reminder of what happened the day Thalia died, but pulled back and did his best to present a warm smile. He wasn't really upset with her or anything. It was more that he wished he had gone about the lot of it in a more intelligent way.

Allowing himself to be pulled along, Oliver draped one arm over the back of the couch until Alice had seemingly settled, so he could wrap her into his side. It was strange, in a way, that he would get to select the movie. He couldn't remember the last time he had asked to do so, always ready to accept whatever she wanted him to sit through - or suffer through, depending. He wasn't even sure where to start. He knew it wouldn't make her upset with him if he chose something she didn't like, but it was as he decided to skim the channels just to check - before he would look at her disks - that she made him pause.

Oliver blinked at her, his mouth open as he tried to find words suitable for the situation. How did he go about explaining that the words were his? And she liked it? "Alice-... How many times have you read that?" he asked first, ripping his gaze from the tattered book and back to her. His expression was probably one of shock, but it wouldn't surprise him if she assumed it was because of the state of the covers and pages.

She pointed out a section to him - it was from his second book, the one where he had written about the end of the Scottish monarchy, and about the various people who had the chance to take it over but chose not to after Henry I had died. The scene was one between the heir from the House of Savoy, and his advisors who were trying to convince him to leave Italy and go claim the throne. Oliver could remember his own laughs while writing it, pleased with the man's cheeky responses about the Scottish winter and traditions he would decree were no longer allowed - including the accent. He, who actually thought their accents were amusing, if not endearing to an extent, couldn't help himself at the time. The cover, too, was the very classic one he had requested, not wanting to go with something obscenely flashy.

He took only moments to register the scene before looking down at the particularly lame pen name he had chosen to avoid the chance that his work would interfere with his life. But here it was, and it was actually a good thing. Because Alice liked it and he was kind of thrilled. The only problem was figuring how to convince her it was really his.

"Funny," he began with a chuckle, his ears coloring a bit with his embarrassment and joy at her approval. "I told you I only have two books out, right?" He opened up the book to the page that listed all books by that author. "Interesting. This guy only has two as well. And let me guess - they're sort of historical fiction, but they've got no magic in them, even though they're for wizards. And they're a little bit sarcastic, because they relate the Muggle stories to our world even though they can't be of the same world or involve the same people," he went on, a smug little smile pulling at his cheeks. "Funny, too, that the guy's last name is sort of mine, but with two letters changed. Fancy that. I guess it's a good thing you like this one, babe, considering I have a third that'll be published in summer."

“My mum cares about you,” Alice pointed out, inclining her head to the side as a half-smile took hold of her mouth. “You weren’t ever going to get to pick the option of not going with her when she knew that she could better look after you herself. Besides, I liked knowing you were there even if we argued. I knew you were safe like that and it was a mistake to not go home with you, I’m sorry.” She took a careful breath, snuggling into him more closely. “Never again,” she promised, for the sake of both of them.

They were almost on an even keel there, on the sofa once more. With the book in her hands, she found herself regaining the excitability around him that they’d lost amidst the seriousness and sadness in the last few months. She didn’t know if it was the afterglow still tinging at her skin but there was something in her that was so truly, genuinely happy that hadn’t been there before. She hadn’t realised, either, just how much she had missed it.

Hesitance showed in Alice’s eyes as Ollie looked at her and she held the book tightly, as though hanging onto it would somehow give her the inspiration to defend it. She was good at doing things like that. She’d made a career of doing things like that and the opposite too so she was qualified. She didn’t know if her writer would agree, though. She glanced down at it when he posed his question to her and she shrugged her shoulders, trying to determine just how many times she had read the book.

“Twice from start to finish but it’s been living in my bag for a while so at lunch I tend to read some sections again. I mean, probably about three or four times. I’m not sure. I mean, it’s definitely been well loved …” she winced at it, knowing it was a sacrilege to treat books like that but she certainly kept her hardbacks in better condition if that was any consolation at all. She loved them fiercely, her books, in any case.

She worried her lower lip, unsure what he was going to say next. Her eyebrows shot up as he spoke and she connected with what he was saying. She slapped her hand to her mouth and looked at him with visible dismay before half-flailing with excitement and launching herself at him, the book fluttering between them. She wound her arms around his neck and peppered feverish kisses all over his face.

“You are so clever!” She exclaimed, every word punctuated with kisses. “Oh my god!” She grasped his face excitedly as she bounced, trying to expel some of the energy that was sparking within her. Lemon picked her way over to them, confusion upon her canine face. Alice lifted her into her lap but continued to bounce much to Lemon’s vaguely muted dismay. “You’re just … I can’t. No. You’re amazing. Oh, god. Does your dad know about these cause he must see me reading them all the time and either he’s having a little private joke at my expense or he thinks I’m even nuttier than well … normal.”

“Oh my god… right … can I … like … can I pre-pre-pre-pre order? Cause, I mean … y’know… special privileges and all that,” she wiggled her brows. “I am your favourite, remember?” She giggled, unable to keep a straight face as she nodded intently. “Gosh, Olls. You’re so good. Agh!” She reached up and squeezed his cheeks impulsively before kissing him, a bright smile lighting up her features. “I’m so proud of you,” she told him earnestly, softening her temperament, her fingers drifting gently across his cheeks. “You’re okay with me reading them?” She checked as an afterthought.

Oliver was absurdly pleased that she had read it more than once, even if it meant that the book had been roughed up during her times experiencing the story. And he could feel, looking at her and how she seemed protective of it, that that was what Alice had done. Experienced it. That's what he wanted when he created his story. It wasn't serious enough to be taken in a blasé manner. It was meant to be enjoyed and greeted with an expectation of partial silliness.

His hand reached out automatically to protect the book, even though it was just a copy of the one he had at home in hardback. He was surprised to note that she must not have seen it there, but he did have a lot of books, admittedly. Still, he caught the pages flapping about, setting it on the floor as gently as he could. It took a bit of effort not to just let it drop, given that his attention was pulled back to Alice with very little effort on the part of either of them.

Oliver was starting to wonder when his cheeks would start hurting from all of the smiling he had been doing that day. Ever since Alice had said his name, Oliver had not managed to truly keep from being pleased with the day's events. Even during their more difficult conversations, in and among the good ones, he had been almost obscenely happy with his situation.

His attempted answers were covered up by more and more questions from the blonde, and Oliver could hardly help it when he laughed at the idea of his father knowing she read them all along. "I'm afraid he does, yeah," he replied, nodding once. "Though I've never gotten quite this reaction when people find out it's me," he added with a smirk, stealing a kiss before she spoke up again.

Even though he tried again to provide responses for her questions, Oliver figured it would probably be wiser to let her get all of them out before he started. Once she settled enough to register that he might mind it, he inclined his head towards her as he spoke.

"Well, sweetheart, I have to say that you can't," Oliver informed her gently. "You are definitely my favorite, but I've got a good reason why you can't. Trust me on that. I don't mind you reading them, so long as you claim they're good. Even if they aren't. So," he added, pushing off the couch and offering his hands to her, palm up. "Why don't you come with me, hmm? I have something to show you."

Once she had agreed to go, Oliver turned off the television and brought Alice and Lemon back to his flat. He wasn't sure if Ariel was home, but he supposed it was just as well. Rather than making an ordeal of greeting the werewolf - of course, they hadn't been getting on too brilliantly, so he supposed it wasn't surprising that he didn't - Oliver led the girl and her puppy into his room, his fingers curling into Alice's tighter as they crossed the threshold, where Eric was curled up under the desk, asleep. Upon the entrance of the hoomans and the other dog, Eric lifted his head, his ears perking up a bit as he searched around. Wary, though, he kept his distance and instead watched the little corgi from her spot.

Oliver, on the other hand, was more concerned with finding out what he had brought them back for, and moved to stand in front of his desk as he reached for a pen. "See," he started as he wrote, "you can't order the book because I've already got your copy. The first one ever," he added over his shoulder, a broad grin stretching his lips. After a moment, he turned back to his work and continued. "I was, um... I was planning on sending it to you for Christmas, anyway. With some note that was a mix of clever and apologetic. Something that might make you want to... to talk to me, I guess? I'm not sure. The intention was there, though. Anyway, now I get to write you something much better," he concluded, capping the pen and slapping the cover of the book shut.

"Then again," he mused aloud, "there was already something in it for you."

Oliver sat on the bed and extended the hardback towards her, pulling it back when her fingers reached towards it. "Do be a bit more protective of this one, yeah?" he asked, only half teasing. He passed it to her anyway, tapping the cover with one finger. "Check the dedication page, love."

The printed words might not have caught her attention first, but they were at the top of the page, just as they would be in all other copies of the novel, reading: For Alice. Because I finally found an idea so good that I wasn't able to sleep for fear I'd miss something. Just as you said. And because, much like the words that never seemed to go away, you were never far from mind.

Farther down the page, in his - admittedly messy - handwriting, was a second note. I adore you, Alice. I love you, madly, and I can't see that stopping. Not for anything. I can't pin down the exact moment of when I knew, really. To quote one of the greats, 'I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.' I didn't think I would get to this point, where I wasn't actually afraid of what might come. I think you're the difference, and I'll be thankful every day for you. Every day. Merry Christmas, babe.

Eyelids flickered and drew back, revealing bright eyes that understood immediately where they were. Home. They were home. That was what the flat had become. When that had happened, Alice was not entirely sure but she certainly understood why it was. It was because Ollie lived there. His things, his very essence, was interspersed with the innocuous objects of the household and all of it, him in particular, combined to be a place of reassurance, a place where she had always felt safe. She hadn’t realised how much she had missed it. She knew she had but she hadn’t really been able to appreciate just how much. This was her home.

When they entered Ollie’s room, her eyes immediately whipped around, immediately seemingly falling to the bed. There was nothing wrong with her own. It was probably softer and covered in warmer duvets and blankets but this was something else entirely. The entire room was something else entirely. It was home in itself because if she was there, in it, then it meant he was too. Alice drew in closer to Ollie. She released his hand as he made for the desk and she knelt down to release Lemon before sitting beside her, holding her fingers out for Eric to encourage the two other loves of her life to meet each other. Both seemed unwilling, though and Lemon hid her face, making the blonde witch laugh a little bit.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” Alice whispered to the corgi who looked back at her petulantly. “Eric come here, you’ve got to be the adult here.” Both dogs looked at her, then, with equally put-out expressions and Alice pouted at them before getting up once more, deciding just to let them deal with it. Lemon seemed to panic at that moment and looked between Alice and the other dog before hurrying back to her mistress’s side, glancing balefully at Eric as she did so.

Alice stepped towards Ollie as he sat down on the bed and she felt Lemon around her feet, trying to hide. Opening her hand out to take the book, her mouth opened to complain when he held it out of her grasp. She poked her tongue out to him with a smile, taking it into her palms. There was a reverence with which she looked at it, skirting her fingers over the cover tentatively. She felt the weight of it, turned it over to draw her touch across the back and down the spine. She looked up, a genuinely grateful smile lifting her mouth up and she leaned in to kiss him tentatively, tenderly, thankful even before she read inside.

Alice nudged at him and sat down in his lap, wiggling to comfort before setting the book in her lap and opening the front cover. She smoothed it back and lifted each page gently over until she got to the dedication. Her breath caught and her hand felt for her necklace, holding the pendant and running it along the chain as she read, and then reread, absorbing the words and forcing herself to read it despite her eyes being desperate to lower to his handwriting. Then, only then, did she indulge herself and she read through the words he’d written.

“Ollie,” she gasped, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes searching for his. “Ollie …” she took a shaky breath and set the book down, her hands finding his cheeks as she leaned into him, her lips lifting for his. Her hands were shaking and she could barely hold herself together. Her shivered against him and in the end wound her arms tightly about his neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to squeeze away the tears threatening but in the end they fell regardless and she lifted her head away, breathing irregularly through her mouth as she tried to fix her watery gaze on him. She brought her hand away and pulled at the sleeve of her sleep shirt to wipe it under her eyes and she tried to find words, any words, to make him see how much she loved him.

“Oh, Merlin,” she laughed a little, sniffling. “I’m sorry I … I just … no one’s ever really … done anything like this for me before.”

A gruff preceded a bounce and Alice looked around to see Lemon on the bed, rushing into her lap to hide her face into her mistress’s belly. Alice looked down despairingly at her dog and glanced over at Eric who seemed to mirror the blonde’s puzzled look. She laughed again, rubbing underneath her eyes as she smoothed a hand across Lemon’s back.

“You’re so silly,” she admonished her puppy. “And since when can you jump like that, hm?” Lemon whined balefully.

Alice rolled her eyes before looking up at Ollie, stretching for a kiss. “Thank you.” She whispered against his mouth. “Thank you so much, you wonderful man. I feel a bit bad, actually. Mine for you is a bit rubbish in comparison.” She laughed awkwardly and leaned into him before venturing. “Could I … could I stay tonight?”

If Oliver had been paying attention to the dogs and their refusal to play nice, he might have noticed they they were acting just as he and Alice had, during that first dinner. Falsely friendly but mostly unsure of each other. Well, until the drinking had started. But he wasn't about to suggest that the dogs get drunk or play fake poker. He assumed that they would come around eventually, given that they didn't have much of a choice now that he and Alice had worked things out.

An anxious little smile appeared as she sat herself down in his lap, and it didn't take a moment for Oliver's arms to wind around her or rest his chin on her shoulder. She was being overly careful, but it was endearing, so Oliver couldn't quite help it when he turned his chin to press a kiss into the side of her neck. But then she was crying at him and he wasn't sure if it was good or bad. She had said she wanted to just take things slow, and Oliver wasn't sure that this qualified as 'slow.'

He returned her kiss easily, lifting a hand to her hair as she ducked her chin. "No tears, Allie," Oliver murmured, his brow furrowing as he tried to discern what the problem was. But then Alice pulled back and he understood. "You deserve a lifetime of this sort of thing, babe. And if I can give it to you, I'll be happy." He grinned at her, even as she wiped away little tears, but was moving to send them away himself as Lemon popped up between them. Figures, he mused silently, a chuckle leaving him anyway.

"They'll have to learn to warm up to each other eventually," he said, finally stating the idea aloud. "I think Eric is just being grumpy for the sake of it," he added, smiling over at the pomsky when he lifted his head. "They'll be fighting over his squeakies before we know it," Oliver assured her before meeting her partway for the kiss.

At her words, he laughed again and shook his head. "What could I possibly need, hmm? You're already here," he winked, only partly joking. Briefly, it registered that was was far more confident than he normally wanted to act - or normally could act, really. So his ears colored a bit at his own words.

In Oliver's opinion, Alice's question was not a necessary one, especially considering what she had just read. But he was not going to tell her so, of course. So he instead just nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Whenever you want, Allie, you're more than welcome. Just know that you may have to brave dealing with Ariel this time, hmm? We sort of left dinner to put itself away at yours. Maybe we should see if we can trick him into making something? It's probably time I learn to get on with him again, anyway."

It was an impossibility for the blonde witch to return to her cold and empty flat now when so much love and comfort was here in this one. She was furled so tightly around her lover she never wanted to leave. The only issue was that there were two little dogs who really weren’t so sure about each other just yet and it was comical the way one was trying to hide whilst the other just didn’t seem to understand what it was that was going on. The former was deposited back on the floor much to her noted dismay but her mistress ignored her, knowing that Lemon Rousseau just needed to get her act together and turn on the charm. Then, she’d have nothing to worry about.

“I didn’t mean to cry at you,” she attempted with a watery smile. “You’re just too lovely to me and I think that if I can give you this feeling, too, I’ll be very happy indeed.” She kissed him again, too filled with joy to do anything else. This was the man that she had so ecstatically and irrevocably fallen in love with. Now, with the latter firmly in mind, she was a little bit terrified but couldn’t care less about that fear because the feeling overrode any other. She trusted him like nothing else. She wanted no one else now. This was the man she was actually looking forward spending what she hoped would be the rest of her life with.

Leaning her head against him, Alice dropped her leg down and gave Lemon a bit of a nudge. The dog spread flat out and only really succeeded in sliding across the floor, sparing Alice a petulant look before bumping into Eric. The dog looked up at the other and scrambled proudly to her feet before looking at him dully, unsure about what to do, glancing around at the hoomans for some sort of cue. Alice would have thought bum sniffing would have been the obvious choice but after all the observing Lemon had done of the hoomans that evening, she knew there was one thing they liked to do and she wondered if Eric would like it too: so, she licked him – right on the nose.

Alice laughed at the quip and looked at Ollie with a smirk. “Indeed,” she returned cheekily. “Apart from something else in perhaps a softer setting,” she wiggled her bum pointedly. “I can’t think what more you’d need.” She couldn’t keep a straight face to maintain the sexy allure, however, and burst into laughter before she could stop herself, shaking her head.

Ariel. She’d almost forgotten him. That was bad. Alice made a mental note not to tell him and got up with a smile, intent on going to find the werewolf. She kissed Ollie’s hand and then hopped from the room, light on her feet and elated to be home again. She took to Ariel’s room without a second thought in the matter and found him sprawled out on his bed, reading idly. When the door opened, the werewolf looked up and glanced at her over the top of his glasses, his eyebrows shooting up as he tried to work out what in God’s name she was doing there.

“Ollie and I are hungry, Ari,” she explained with a mock-pout.

The book was abandoned and the werewolf sat up, curiosity entirely taking over his face. She noticed a cut on his cheekbone – a deep one that looked as though he’d garnered it from his wanderings during the full moon. She felt a surge of sorrow for him and she watched regretfully as he pulled himself up onto his feet, wincing a little bit as a limp moved into his frame. He noticed her concern and managed a week smile before reaching out to her, drawing her to him to kiss her forehead and take her into his arms for a hug.

“Some runt thought he could get the better of me, is all,” he soothed, looking at her carefully. “Hurts like a bitch while I’m all human again. Nightmare.” He smiled, releasing her. “What do you want to eat then, princess?” He asked, pinching her cheek fondly. “And I do hope I get the run through of why young Oliver and you are Ollie and you again.” Alice flushed, guiding him out of his room by turning around and returning to Ollie. “What?” Ariel teased with a wry smile, making his way towards the kitchen. “Do I have to cook before I get to know the dirty details? You drive a hard bargain, you two.”

He scoffed, though he didn’t really mean it and walked as normally as he could into the kitchen where he opened the fridge, inspecting the contents. “How about a ratatouille hotpot?” He offered.