Extra scene from the episode where they do to the beach.

Her eyes followed him as he stood up. He did it with surprisingly little difficulty, given that he had been sitting on the ground, on sand too, it surprised her for a moment. He stood up, and brushed the creased out of his trousers.

"Do you fancy a walk, Miss Baxter?"

He was standing, tentatively extending his hand for her. She smiled, looking at the glimpse of his palm that she could see.

"Alright, Mr Molesley," she replied quietly, taking it and allowing him to pull her up, "That sounds nice."

She was surprised for a moment by his strength, but then she remembered the village fair and his rather surprising performance then. She suppressed a grin at the memory, waiting for him as he bent down again to scoop up the rug she had been sitting on.

"In case we fancy having a sit down somewhere else," he explained.

She smiled her approval and they set off at a gentle pace over the sand. She was a little unsure of her footing at first. Half-expecting at least a raise of the eyebrows as they passed Mrs Patmore, she was more than a little relieved to see the cook with her head leaning back in the chair, her sunhat resting over her eyes. They exchanged a wry smile between themselves, and slipped past. She was glad when they reached the wooden walkway at the back of the beach, and again when he extended his hand to help her again.

She continued to hold on to his fingers once he had stepped up beside her.

"Have you seen Mr Carson anywhere?" she asked him.

"I think he was down by the sea with Mrs Hughes," he replied, "Why?"

She smiled at him gently.

"That's good," she told him, "They won't mind us then."

He looked down at their joined hands as she gently laced their fingers together. She waited for him to meet her eyes, needing reassurance that he was alright with this. And she got in when he did.

They walked on in silence for a while, faster now that their footing was a little more steady. It was very bright and very warm. She would have been forced to squint had it now been for the brim of her hat.

"Where are we going?" he asked her after a moment, "Not that I mind particularly," he added hurriedly.

She glanced at him. He wasn't wearing a hat and she didn't want him to catch too much of the sun.

"We could go down into the dunes," she told him, "It might be a little bit cooler there. I don't want you to over heat."

"Yes," he agreed, "It will be nice and cool there. And quiet."

She nodded gently, leading him off the path on the side furthest the sea. The sand slopped down steeply and the momentary stability they'd gained was all but gone. But it was certainly shadier, cooler, and the beginnings of grass were growing and blowing back and forth whenever a hint of breeze started.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked her, indicating the blanket he had brought with him.

"Yes, let's before we fall down," she agreed, grinning.

He spread the blanked as best he could on the slopping sand. The incline was so steep that when she eased herself onto the blanket, she was practically lying flat, so she did, taking off her hat and stretching out with her head laid against the blanket. She could see him looking at her, wondering if it would be alright for him to do so too.

"You were right," she told him softly, "It's very quiet here. I can hardly hear the beach."

The steep slope of the dune obscured them completely from sight. All she could hear was the water, and his breathing.

He settled down beside her, lying flat on his back. He was nervous but companionable. She smiled, rolling onto her side looking at him. His eyes were closed. They lay in silence for a few moments.

"Did you mean what you said before?" he asked her, his eyes still closed, "About me making you stronger?"

She examined his face in silence for a few moments.

"Yes," she replied before he opened his eyes, "Of course I did."

She saw the semblance of a frown forming on his face, through his closed eyes.

"Do you find that difficult to believe?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

She smiled.

"You shouldn't," she told him gently.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her.

"You're strong on your own," he replied, "Without my help. Why should you need my help?"

"Nevertheless, I do," she told him, "Whether or not there's a clear reason. It's true, I do."

He looked at her carefully.

"I believe you," he told her softly, "If that's what you say. I know you wouldn't lie."

Her breath caught a fraction.

"What?" he asked her.

"Nothing," she replied swiftly.

She was sure that her reply didn't convince him but he didn't press her. She waited a moment.

"I think I'd be lost without you," she told him softly, "Honestly."

"Now that I don't believe," he told her gently, smiling at her, "But I'm glad you think I make the difference," he was more than smiling, he was beaming at her, "Very glad."

She watched his face with a gentle look, enjoying his smile, his look of happiness as he settled his head back against the rug.

She leant up a little, resting on her arm, fidgeting with her fingers a little, watching him.

"Can I ask you a question, Mr Molesley?"

"Of course."

"Would you kiss me? If you thought I wanted you too?"

His eyes opened and he looked at her, his faced covered with a look of great surprise.

"Yes," he murmured, immediately, the word slipping out, "Hypothetically," he qualified, a second later, "If you wanted me too."

She grinned, bowing her head, stifling a laugh. Then she raised her head, and looked at him again.

She wasn't sure if he looked so alarmed because of what she'd asked him or because the way she was watching him was positively predatory. Nor was she sure what exactly had prompted her to ask him-… maybe it was the warmth, maybe it was the giddiness of day off or of being alone together-… More likely it was the fact that she'd been wondering what the answer to that question would be for a while now.

"Would you let me kiss you?" she asked him curiously, leaning a little closer to him.

He nodded.

"If you wanted to," he qualified.

She smiled, leaning forwards, pressing her lips gently against his. He leant up into the kiss, capturing her lips, surprising her a little bit. His hand came up from his side, resting gently against the back of her hair, holding her face to his. Her hand moved too, cupping his cheek softly, stroking his skin with the pad of her thumb.

She was lying with her body leaning over his, and that did not change even as their kiss ended. She rested her hand softly against his shirt front and his hand touched one of her shoulder blades.

"I've been wanting to do that for quite a while, Mr Molesley," she told him quietly.

"Joseph," he told her breathlessly, "Call me, Joseph."

"Alright," she replied, smiling down at him, "You should gave me Phyllis, too then."

He nodded. She sank back down for a moment, kissing him again. Her hair was heavy and under the pressure of his hand, little strands of it were falling around her face.

"Is this what you had in mind when you suggested a walk?" she asked him gently, running her hand down the front of his shirt, feeling him shiver.

"Is this what you had in mind when you accepted?" he asked, the reply trembling a little in his throat.

She grinned at his reply; it was only fair.

"Something like it."

Her hand was lingering by his belt. She sat up a little further, checking herself.

"We'll have to be careful," she told him regretfully, "We can't get too carried away here."

"No," he agreed, still looking a little unsure.

She smiled at him again.

"And before you ask, or say you don't believe it," she told him, "Yes, I would like to-… get carried away. With you. But maybe not here."

He nodded, looking as if he was trying to steady himself.

"We'll work something out," he told her softly, sitting up beside her.

"Yes," she agreed, turning her head to look at him, "We will."

There was a moment's pause.

"Kiss me again, Joseph," she murmured.

His hand cupped her face, bringing her lips to his as he kissed her passionately. She wrapped one of her arms around his neck, holding him to her, her heart beating wildly.

"I love you, Phyllis," he murmured between kisses.

She smiled as they broke apart.

"I love you too," she replied softly, allowing her lips to meet his again, briefly, "But we should go back."

"You're right," he nodded regretfully.

This time as he extended his hand to help her, it was not shyly and she hung tightly on to him.

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