Vicki's new house didn't quite feel like a home yet. But it was the right size for someone living alone - one medium sized kitchen/living room, and open stairs up to the bedroom and bathroom. That was it. There was even a spot that was perfect for her drafting board, set up under the stairs by a window. This was where she was sitting right now, doodling with set designs for the Shanachie's upcoming productions. It wasn't her job anymore, but no one objected when she offered her opinion.

Jon didn't have any trouble finding her place, but he didn't yet feel comfortable about using the key she'd given him and so a knock was heard at the front door. From the outside, the place looked quaint, if a bit small. Much different from the condo. Old fashioned and quaint, where his place was all sleek and modern. Contrasts, as different as night and day, just like them. But it was the differences that balanced them out, he thought.

The knock brought her out of her doodling, pushing herself from her stool to wander over to the door, winding her hair up and off her face with the pencil she'd been using. It took a moment to open the door, since it stuck at awkward times, but once it was open, Vicki smiled on seeing Jon standing there. "Well, fancy seeing you here," she chuckled, stepping back to welcome him in. "Get in before your bollocks freeze off."

He had come bearing gifts, an armful of groceries, a bottle of wine, a bouquet of various kinds of flowers, clad in jeans and a thick beige sweater, a gray scarf draped around his neck, perfect for chilly fall weather. He greeted her with a smile and a quick kiss before stepping inside. "Brought a few things with me. Thought I'd cook. Hope you don't mind."

"Are you kidding?" Her smile had widened as she shut the door behind him, rising onto her bare toes to return his kiss fondly. "Gorgeous, talented, and you cook; I should lock you up here so no one else snaffles you away from me." As usual, when in her own home, she was barefoot - on bare stone, believe it or not - clad in jeans and a white tank. The pencil wasn't doing a very good job of holding her hair out of her face, either.

He handed her the flowers he had clutched in one hand, so that he could swipe some strays back from her face and lean in to give her a proper kiss. "You going to go Misery on me?"

She laughed, the sound muffled into a fond murmur as her lips played against his tenderly, the bouquet held loosely in the hand not curled to his chest. "I'm really going to have to watch that film at some point, aren't I?" she smiled, nudging his nose with her own. "That's twice you've referenced it to me."

He smiled and brushed his nose against hers. "Trust me, you don't want to see it, unless you like Stephen King." He pulled away from her, juggling the packages in his arms and glancing toward the kitchen area. "Where should I put these?"

"Oh, over here." Tucking her fingers beneath his sweater and into the waistband of his jeans, Vicki moved to lead Jon over to the kitchenette space, pulling open the cutlery drawer, and the cupboard where the glasses were, so he could get an idea of how she catagorised her kitchen. Once he saw those, he should be able to find everything else easily enough. "I never really liked Stephen King. I'm sure he's a great writer, but it's not really my thing. I like my horror over the top and funny."

He couldn't help but chuckle a little when she tugged him over toward the kitchen area. He turned to set the bags down on the counter before turning back to her. He'd look the kitchen over later, right now he was too busy looking her over. "I've had my share of horror movies for a while," he said in agreement and once his arms were empty, tugged at her own jeans to pull her close.

Led by the hips - or more accurately, the denim - Vicki wasn't exactly difficult to draw up against him, laying the flowers down on the counter to let her fingers walk up the length of his arms. "Hello, by the way."

"Hello to you, too." He smiled and settled his hands against her hips, dipping his head down to press a kiss against her lips.

She leaned into him, warm and willing as her hands crept to curl at his neck, fingertips stroking at the slowly growing buzz of his hair as her lips curved fondly beneath his. Drawing back, she let her knuckle gently graze his cheek, looking into his eyes with tender affection. "Did you sleep?"

He sighed against her lips. He'd slept but not soundly. It would take a while, but he was determined to do it on his own. No sleeping pills, no booze, no tranquilizers. The fact of the matter was she calmed him better than any of those, at least, on those nights when she shared his bed. "I slept a little."

She didn't ask whether it had been in his bed or where he'd nodded off on the couch. So long as he slept, and learned to sleep again without needing her there, that was enough for now. "A little is still sleep," she smiled gently, warmly encouraging. "Hope you brought your toothbrush, though - you're not going anywhere tonight."

He'd managed to get enough sleep to get by on. The nights were long but he was making progress. He slept better during the day, but he didn't want to get his days and nights confused. Nights were long enough, as it was. He smirked. "I bought one to keep here. It's in the bag. I hope you don't mind."

"Only if you mind the fact that I smuggled a change of clothes for you out of your apartment last time I was there." Vicki's smile was cheeky as she leaned back to meet his gaze more comfortably, drumming her fingertips against his neck.

He looped his arms around her waist, matching her smile. "Should I move a few changes of clothes in?" The man had more than enough clothes. He was like the male Carrie Bradshaw when it came to fashion and wardrobe.

"You're very welcome to, if that's what you'd like," she assured him. "I'll even put up a wardrobe for you to use." And make a mental note not to do it in front of him - the sight of Vicki wielding a screwdriver was one that had terrified several of her colleagues during the pre-production for Crowes.

Ironically, she was probably a lot better with tools than he was. He'd never really been very good at the usual things boys excelled at. He'd played a little sports as a kid, but he'd never been as good at it as most of the other boys. The stage was where he'd felt most comfortable, and he'd paid the price for it with ridicule. "The only screwdriver I'm very good at is the one that involves vodka."

"Oh, no, I think you're amazing with your own screwdriver," she grinned wickedly, rolling her hips to his with a naughty little bump before moving to step away. "So what are you planning on cooking tonight, love?" She picked up the bouquet, fishing a pair of scissors out from a drawer to begin preparing the stems for water.

He chuckled, somehow knowing she'd go there. He was getting visibly more comfortable in her presence and her bawdy wit and flirtatious nature was part of what had drawn him to her. "I was thinking pasta. How do you feel about Capellini Pomodoro?" Yes, he'd remembered she was a vegetarian, or he'd have chosen a meat sauce.

"Capa-whatsit?" That answered that question. Her head tilted to let her eye him sideways as she snipped at the stems, her lips curved in a smile. "Isn't that a kind of Mexican hat and poncho outfit?" He laughed. "No, it's Italian. Fancy name for angel hair pasta with marinara sauce." He turned toward the counter and started pulling various groceries from out of the bag. Pasta, Roma tomatoes, olive oil, basil, a bottle of wine, a loaf of fresh-baked bread, etc. etc.

"Right." She drew the word out in a cheekily sardonic drawl, watching him as he went about his domestic duties a little too closely. The scissors slipped, slicing open her fingertip to let a bloom of bright blood show. "Oh ....bollocking bugger brains." Putting her finger in her mouth, she moved to the sink, running the water to clean her little injury.

He set the groceries down, abandoning them when he heard her cursing and sucking at her finger. "What's the matter?" He joined her at the sink, reaching for her hand to examine her injury.

Her smaller hand curled into his, palm up, showing the seeping little slice in the pad of her second finger as she rolled her eyes. "I wasn't paying attention," she explained. "It's my own fault, I know how sharp those scissors are."

"Do you have a first aid kit?" The sight of the blood didn't seem to bother him, maybe because it wasn't vampire blood and he was too focused on trying to help her.

She nodded, lifting her now clean finger back to her mouth, blue eyes laughing at her own stupidity in hurting herself at all. "Over vair," was murmured indistinctly, her other hand rising to indicate a bright blue box mounted on the wall beside the fridge.

He glanced over at the indicated box and went that way, opening it and taking out some gauze, a bandage, and antiseptic ointment. Moving back to her side, he reached for her finger and dabbed it clean with gauze to see how deep it was and if it needed stitches. "Your scissors license has been hereby revoked."

Thankfully, it wasn't that deep; just rather enthusiastic when it came to bleeding. Vicki laughed at his comment, wincing just a little as the ointment was put onto the little cut. "Do I need to be supervised every time I use anything sharp now, sir?"

He smiled as he dabbed some antiseptic onto the cut and then very carefully wrapped her finger in a bandage. "Don't tempt me."

Looking at him through her not-inconsiderable lashes, she batted her eyes at him with impish coquettishness. "Is that just a simple 'don't tempt', or is it 'don't tempt you anymore than I do already??" she asked sweetly.

He lifted his gaze to her and smiled. "It's a simple don't tempt me. You can tempt me all you want otherwise." He finished bandaging her finger and lifted it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Mmm ....I wonder where else you'd kiss better if I hurt it?" she asked, back to her usual bawdy humor as she gently touched the pad of her thumb to the end of his nose, eyes twinkling with playful intent.

He smirked. "You don't have to get hurt to get me to kiss something, Vic. All you have to do is ask." He was only too happy to comply.

"Now who's tempting who?" she laughed, rising onto her toes to brush a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. "I'll behave until you've wooed me with your culinary machismo. After that, prepare to be pounced."

He laughed again. Somehow, she always seemed able to get him to laugh, something few others could boast about. "Didn't you know that the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach?" he teased, bopping her nose with a fingertip.

Her nose scrunched as it was bopped, eyes momentarily crossing with comical dismay at the teasing. "Oh, is that the same as ....the way to a man's heart is through his package?"

"Is that how I fell in love with you?" he smirked. Yes, he used the past tense, as if it had already happened. "I wasn't aware."

And there it was, the perfect way to stun Vicki into having absolutely no words at all. She stared up at him, her expression softening to a look that was almost too vulnerable to gaze into. "What did you say?"

He furrowed his brows at her, unaware he'd said anything unusual at first, slowly realizing. "I said..." He trailed off, a little worried he'd said too much, too soon.

"Tell me?" Her voice had dropped to a soft whisper, her hands fallen to his chest as she looked up at him, needing to hear him say it. Vicki wasn't the most courageous where her heart was concerned, shying away from the big L-word more often than she admitted to it, but she thought if she'd ever been in love with anyone, she was in love with Jon now.

"I said I..." He paused briefly to gather his courage. "I said I'm in love with you." He wrapped his arms around her again, circling her in his embrace. His heart was beating fast with both excitement and nervousness.

There was a moment before she answered, a very quiet laugh underpinning her first words. "That's a relief." Drawing in a shaky breath, she leaned toward him, laying her forehead against his shoulder with closed eyes as she gathered her own courage tighter to her. Finally, she let her head tilt back, her gaze meeting his, blue on blue. "I love you, Jon."

He held her loosely against him, heart thumping nervously in his chest, one hand moving slowly over her back in a gentle rub, liking how it felt to hold her close, wanting to keep her forever safe in his arms. He looked down into her eyes when she lifted her head, his heart swelling when he heard those words from her. He touched her face, fingers splayed against her cheek, no words necessary at that point. He captured her lips showing her how he felt without saying another word.

((Many thanks to Vicki's player for the above scene. :smile: ))