((Note: The below events took place the during the day of August 29th))

Johnny opened his eyes slowly and looked at the woman nestled so comfortably next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. Her dark hair was a heavy weight across his chest, and his lips curved in a tender smile. His free hand came up to touch that mass of curls, long fingers lightly smoothing, caressing the fine silky texture. She shifted in her sleep, mumbled something incoherent, and he took the opportunity to slide free, settling her head gently down on the pillows.

Easing off of the mattress he stood, then bent back long enough to kiss her temple lightly and watch the little smile that crept onto her face, even in her sleep. Usually to leave the loft, he simply sat at the edge and jumped down ? now he didn?t want to wake her, and so he actually climbed down the ladder. Barefoot and bare-chested he padded around the studio, the loose cotton weave of his pajama bottoms brushing against the floor. His studio didn?t have an actual kitchen, but he did have a small hotplate and a kettle to make coffee in.

The coffee was almost done, its scent filling the room, when Sianna peeked over the edge of the loft, her face still flushed with sleep and her pure blue eyes heavy-lidded. She was wearing the top to his pajamas, her hair was hanging in a tangled mess around her face, and when she smiled sweetly at him, she was so lovely that his heart nearly stopped. He was transfixed, and a smile spread slowly across his face to match hers.

?G?mornin? ta ya, m?gal. I was thinkin? ? did ya have any big plans fer th? day? Would ya be willin? ta help me bring some stuff out ta th? farm I took over, an? do some cleanin? ou? there?? She had vanished back out of his line of sight while he was speaking, and he poured them both large mugs of coffee while she rustled about up in the loft. She reappeared shortly, climbing down the ladder and taking one of those mugs with a brilliant smile. He couldn?t take his eyes from her, and when she nodded affirmatively while taking a sip of her coffee, he grinned broadly.

A short time later they were in the Marketplace, haggling for supplies, both to clean with and some food that could be laid by for an indefinite amount of time. Loading the various parcels onto the horse-drawn wagon Johnny had rented for the day, their next stop was a quick one at the Red Dragon Inn, just long enough for Sianna to run inside and change from that beautiful dress of blue silk ? so impractical for cleaning ? to something sturdier. That accomplished, they headed north, the heavily-loaded wagon rumbling over the uneven road.

He finished the pecan roll and licked his fingers clean happily; utterly content with how the day was progressing. It took a couple of hours before they arrived at it, but finally he pulled up in front of the neat white farmhouse, its front flower garden overgrown with weeds, the extensive vegetable plots in the back even more so. The sign he had put up before hung from its little post, swinging in the gentle breeze.

The small detached carriage-house was a good size to hold the wagon, and Johnny pulled it into the wooden building, then un-harnessed the horse and settled it into its stall with brisk competence. For all his years away from the farm, some things stuck. With a grin over his shoulder to Sianna, he grabbed one of the crates and headed for the back door of the cottage, bending down the weeds on the overgrown pathway. When he reached the door he shifted the crate to one hip and rummaged for the ornate iron key he had found under a stone nearby when he first investigate the place. It fit into the lock smoothly and turned with a quiet click, and he kicked the door open. A few steps and he was inside the large kitchen, setting down the crate.

Honestly, the interior of the farmhouse wasn?t too badly off, and it needed no major repairs, but two years worth of dust had settled everywhere, and the spiders had built cobweb cities of impressive size in some of the bedrooms. He smiled and turned to see her reaction as she entered, his head tilted to one side and a wicked grin on his face. ?Ya sorry ya agreed ta help me, m?gal??

Johnny had taken a few moments to pull off his shirt and duck his head in the horse trough to rinse off the worst of the sweat and dirt clinging to him from his efforts in the garden. It was strange how much he had enjoyed the work on this farm, when he had hated it so much on Hope. There wasn't much he could do about the dirt embedded on his jeans, but the rest could be cleaned, at least. A few splashes of the water over his chest and he was just finishing scrubbing his hands clean when he heard her shout and grinned. His stomach had been grumbling with hunger for the last half-hour.

When she turned around again, he was standing in the kitchen doorway, framed by the sunlight, water still dripping from the ends of his shaggy hair and running across his skin. His shirt was dangling from one hand, leaving him bare-chested, the scars running across his chest a pale white against the tan. He smiled slowly on seeing her standing there, her hair pulled back but stray curls escaping everywhere, a smudge of dirt on her nose and another on her cheek and her forehead.

It was several moments before either of the moved, the electric feel in the air finally broken - or at least paused - when his stomach let out another of the rumbling growls it had been releasing for some time. Their laughter filled the now-sparkling kitchen, a fine harmony, and he stepped into the kitchen.

He paused to bend and give her a quick kiss before he headed to the counter where she had laid out their lunch. It was a simple ploughman's lunch, a slab of meat on a thick piece of bread, an apple for each of them and two bottles of lemonade that had been kept chilled in the coldroom. He looked around while he took a few bites, prowling through the downstairs rooms. "Looks like ya got everythin' done down here, m'gal. Wha's lef', jus' th' matresses upstairs?"

When he looked back over his shoulder at her, the glint in his eyes made clear the thoughts that were drifting through his mind at that.

It had been sheer good fortune, really, that he had been sweeping one of the back bedrooms when she had come out to the horse trough. He had paused to watch her walk across the way to the trough, her motions like a dance to the music that constantly seemed to fill her, about to spill over. His expression had been soft, a tender smile on his face and his bright green eyes shining with a wealth of complex emotions. When she pulled off her tunic, his eyes had instantly darkened again, with heat and desire. When she wrung out the water over herself, his breath had caught and grown harsh, his desire a force almost physically overwhelming.

When she turned to re-enter the house he pulled back from the window so as not to be seen, and spent the few moments it took her to reach the house and ascend the stairs trying to re-gain his control. She had such a powerful effect on him, unlike anything he'd experienced before. Her voice was another soft echo through the hallway as she called, "Johnny dear..? Where are ye?" and he shivered just at the sound of her warm voice before he called out in return. The broom was forgotten, abandoned leaning against the window.

"I'm here, m'gal, in th' las' bedroom." When she entered the room, he was still standing a bare pace from the window, the view plainly visible over his shoulder. His eyes were incandescent as he looked her over slowly, her damp curls spilling over her shoulders, her wet tunic clinging to every curve, and his gaze finally settled on her face. "Th' room's 'r swept, an' I looked over th' frames already. Only thin' left is th' mattresses an' sheets." His words were mundane, discussing the chores they had come here for. The tone of voice conveyed a different message altogether.