Penance

The Priest being there had thrown her off at first, but she utilized a few techniques she had learned in therapy and put it out of her mind until later when thinking about it wouldn’t take her out of the glorious now she got to spend with the children she loved. 

Godmother’s one saving grace was that she adored Claire’s children. Emma took full and complete advantage of this fact and spent a very enjoyable afternoon running riot with the Horde through all the places she normally wasn’t allowed. The vegetable garden became their jungle, the guest house an impenetrable fortress of evil. “Priceless” statues were attacked, climbed, or dressed - whatever the game currently being played dictated. They raided the pantry, stealth mode engaged, for a picnic under the stars. 

She rounded them all up and marched them inside for bath and a bedtime story when Isla and Arlo began to droop.

After kissing their little heads, she slipped quietly out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She had just turned to head to her own room for a much-needed bath when the Priest’s soft, lilting voice came purring out of the shadows, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I wouldn’t have pictured you as the doting aunt. At least not until they could reach the bar.” He stepped out from around the corner, a familiar half-smile on his face. Had he been waiting for her? 

“Have to get them while they’re young,” she responded breezily. “Besides, I’ll need someone to care for me in my dotage. Gods know I’m never having kids of my own. The Claires won’t need all of them. They’ll do all the work, and I’ll reap the benefits. Just have to be Super Aunt every once and while and *poof* I’m in.”

He came closer, stopping a scant arms-length away from her. He tilted his head, eyes locked on hers.  “Join me for a drink?”

She swallowed nervously. “I was actually just about to get a bath and…”

“Please.”  Gods. He was so damn irresistible. She nodded her assent. “Okay?” Was that a smirk at the corner of his mouth or just the way the light and shadow was sculpting his face? Hard to tell. If she knew for a fact it was a smirk she wouldn’t feel like a coward for fleeing to her room. Since she couldn’t be sure...

“Okay.”

He smiled and rubbed his hands together like the little gremlin he was. 

The house was dark and quiet as they made their way downstairs. Claire had gone to bed at 7 and Emma had sent Klare off right behind her, hoping to give them both a bit of quiet time together. Dad and Godmother were in their wing of the house, doing gods knew what. 

He flicked on the light in the kitchen and turned to her. “G&T’s?” His smile was conspiratorial. 

“Ah, no thanks. I want to keep it light for tomorrow’s festivities.”  She made a beeline for the bottle of serviceable Chenin Blanc hanging out in the fridge

ignoring his look of disappointment. She grabbed the bottle by the neck and swiped a goblet before settling on a bar stool to wait for him. 

She knew he was approaching when she heard the crack of the can opening behind her. She turned to watch him. Her memories were good, but they didn’t compare to the reality. Time seemed to have passed him by for the most part. His hair had noticeable strands of silver now. There were more lines around his eyes and mouth. Other than that, he looked the same. The long-sleeved Kelly green Henley was snug in all the right places, showing off his well-muscled  arms and shoulders. His tailored grey trousers did the same for his thighs and, she was certain, his arse. She’d have to check on that later. She met his eyes as she took a sip of wine. 

“Well,” he asked as he sat beside her, “What do you think?” He spread his arms out and preened for a moment before taking a drink. 

She lifted her glass in salute and quirked her lips into a smile.

“Really? Ten years and that’s all I get?” 

She shrugged. She wasn’t sure where her voice had gone. It wasn’t as if she had spent ten years pining for him. She hadn’t put her life on hold. She never expected him to see him again, not really.

She met his eyes as he appraised her in turn, wondering what he saw. She, too, sported more lines around her mouth and eyes. There would be a few silver threads hiding in the curls and waves of her hair if Antony hadn’t worked his magic.  She would age gracefully, but on her terms, thank you very much! Her body was still long and lean - she had started running in earnest a few years ago and kept up the habit. It helped her stay on her feet at the café and, oddly enough, helped her quiet her overactive brain. Almost like meditation. While she would have liked to have been dressed in something slinky and sexy, or at least have had time to bathe, she’d have to be content with the fact that her burgundy turtleneck fit like a dream and made her breasts look fucking fantastic. 

After he finished his once-over, he raised his glass to her in turn, a sardonic smile on his lips. 

They drank in silence for a moment but she knew the silence wouldn’t last; he was incapable of it, especially when it came to her. 

“You look...amazing.” 

“So do you.” He grinned his imp-grin and she couldn’t resist smiling back at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Your Godmother asked if I would officiate the vow renewals and I agreed.”

She looked at him, confused and curious. “Why...would you do that?”

He cocked his head to the side and took a moment to answer. “I’d like to say it was for symmetry or some other deeply spiritual and meaningful bullshit, but that would be a lie.”  

“Oooh-kay.”

“Truth is…” he ran his hands nervously through his hair then drummed his fingers on the countertop, unable to sit still. “Truth is…”

She covered his hands with her own, squeezing gently until he met her eyes. He sighed and turned his hands palm up so he could twine their fingers together. 

“Truth is...it hasn’t passed. At all. And I needed to see you. See if there was even the slightest chance that...that…what we had might still be there.” He looked at her with hopeful eyes. 

The Emma of ten years ago wouldn’t have even let him finish his sentence before climbing into his lap intent on riding him to death before sunrise. But ten years had wrought a lot of changes, one of which was knowing her own value and the needs of her heart. And right now her heart needed time. Time to think over this possibility that she’d never let herself imagine. She hadn’t pined over him, it’s true, but her heart had taken quite the beating and she wasn’t sure she was willing to expose it so fully just yet. There were still so many things she didn’t know. Like what about his vows? She needed more time, more information. So she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth and stood up. 

“That’s…a lot to think about.” He nodded, hands still tangled in hers. “I think...I think I need some time.”

He nodded again. “Okay.”

She pulled her hands away, put the bottle back in the fridge and turned to head back upstairs. 

“Good night,” he whispered softly, making her heart squeeze painfully. She met his eyes and, unable to stop herself, took three long strides to stand in front of him, cupping his face in her hands and tilting it up so she could cover his lips with her own in a searing kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist and he spread his knees further apart so he could pull her tight against him. He opened his mouth to her questing tongue and moaned as she licked and sucked and tasted him. He whimpered when she pulled away and tried to bring her back, but she retreated quickly, calling back a breathless “Good night,” determined to get back to her room before she did something she’d regret. 

After her bath, she drifted off to sleep, wondering what the next day would bring.