"Klaus?"

Clara peeked into the doorway of her bedroom. Finding nothing, she turned to check her parents' room, frowning when her search turned up empty. Where could he be?

The scent of freshly baked scones wafted tantalizingly from down the hall and she inhaled deeply, smiling. Despite ostensibly being on vacation at her home in Reitz, Klaus had been working nearly nonstop, and she'd thought to surprise him with an afternoon tea break. But while he'd been holed up in her room all morning, making his way diligently through a set of assignments that had needed to be graded, he was nowhere to be found now.

Finally, when she was beginning to think he'd walked off in the direction of the town, she caught sight of the hammock through the window. It hung suspended between two trees in her yard. Her father had put it up, long ago, and spent many happy evenings there with a pipe and a book. Clara had almost never used it herself, preferring the cushion of the grasses that grew long and wild near the riverbank, where she could watch the puffy clouds changing shape as they traversed the sky above. But as she approached the hammock now, there was Klaus, seemingly asleep.

Delight welled up in her chest. Even now as they were, lovers for years and closer than ever, it was rare that she got to witness Klaus sleeping. On the rare mornings when she was lucky enough to wake up by his side, he'd almost always be the one watching her, or sometimes teasing her until she opened her eyes. It was, she thought, a testament to how tired he must be now. Her heart softened as she drew closer, and she saw the papers that he'd been reading set aside along with his quill, lying in the grass nearby.

Even in slumber he was the picture of elegance, his face noble and composed, and exuding sheer masculine beauty. It was as if she'd stumbled upon a sleeping god. Her helpless fascination warred with her reluctance to disturb him, but in the end she couldn't help herself. As she leaned over him, a lock of her hair fell against his face, and he twitched, before his eyes opened, narrowing upon her frozen form.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a suspicious gleam in his eye. "Came to disturb my rest, hmm?"

"Sorry…" Clara apologized, but internally she was already relaxing at his tone. He sounded sleepy, and fond, and not angry at all. She lingered longingly over him, her gaze drawn to his mouth.

"You look like you want something," Klaus said with a lazy smile.

"I…" She flushed, unable to deny it.

"Come here," Klaus murmured, reaching out to tug at her. Hesitating, she placed an arm on the hammock, causing it to tip unevenly. "Don't you dare make us fall," he warned. The sound of that growling voice only served to ignite a little flickering flame within her belly.

"Can this thing even hold both of us?" she asked, eyeing the ties dubiously.

"It can," Klaus insisted. "I strengthened it earlier with magic. You just have to know how to get on. Turn around."

As per his instruction, she turned and managed to get in, though not without some protest when she realized that she had no choice but to sit in his lap before she could get on without tipping them over. Then he managed to turn her so that she was essentially draped along his body. How shameless, she thought, burying her face against his chest. Klaus didn't seem to share her embarrassment, instead pulling her closer and nosing at her hair.

"You smell sweet," he whispered.

"I made you scones," she said, her attention drawn by the movement of his hands as they stroked her back. She shivered as he reached low to toy with the hem of her skirt.

"That sounds good," he answered, "but I think I've got an appetite for something else right now."

"K-Klaus," she gasped. "But…"

"But what?" he countered immediately. "We're all alone. And," he purred as he leaned down to nibble at her neck, "I've been working hard all morning." One of his hands reached up to caress her back lovingly, even as the other teased at the pale skin of her thighs, now exposed to the air. "And now I'm hungry."

He kissed her then, sweet and demanding at once, and as he shifted her to press against his body, she had no doubt what he wanted. She could feel the answer of her own body, heating in response, tightening with desire.

She kissed him back.

The scones were cold by the time they finally sat down to tea, but neither of them minded.

Author's Note: Here we are - 50 chapters. It's been a long and fun ride, and I'd like to now consider this story complete. There may be an occasional chapter, but it would be rare.

Thank you for everyone who's been reading all these little one-shots. They've been incredibly rewarding and fun to write. Your comments and feedback have been invaluable in keeping me going for this long!