right, so this chapter was meant to be a flashback to their meeting but, you know what, i thought, let's do the christmassy bit at actual christmas (hope you like it). happy christmas. (but i will still do all the flashback and build-up afterwards).

Half a minute later.

It would not be fair to him to say that Joe Molesley was not a man of surprises. To be absolutely honest, she had not expected him to want to hang around long enough to kiss her. Let alone kiss her like that.

By the time they parted from the gentlest, most loving kiss she'd had in years, she was even more surprised, even more bloody confused, than she had been when she'd woken up.

She watched him carefully as his face moved far enough away for her eyes to focus on him. He was smiling again, a little more broadly than he had done in his sleep.

"I'm so pleased this happened," he told her.

"Really?" she asked him, "Are you? I mean," she amended hastily, seeing his crestfallen expression, "Shit, that's not what I meant-… Sorry. I meant, are you pleased it happened, with me?"

He looked at her for a second longer in incomprehension.

"Yes," he told her plainly, watching her carefully, and not without a fraction of concern, "What are you on about? Who else?"

"I don't know," she replied, "It's not-… who else. It's-… I had no idea you liked me in that way."

He looked at her disbelievingly.

"Well, not that much," she qualified, "There's no reason why you should, either. In fact more reason that you wouldn't," she went on, "After everything you know about me. The divorce for one thing. And everything else."

"Phyllis," he asked her softly, "Do you remember anything that happened last night? Clearly, I mean."

"Not a lot," she confessed, rubbing a hand down the bridge of her nose, trying in vain to cast her mind back.

His eyes were fixed on her in a way that she'd seen him do before, in odd moments when they were alone together. It was more intense now though, and she could not believe she hadn't realised what it meant before.

"You were incredible," he told her in a low voice, "You were-… gorgeous, loving, unbelievably sexy," she flushed a little as he continued, "I never imagined for a second that you might fancy me in return, but then you-…" he trailed off, clearly deciding it was best not to say whatever she'd done if she didn't remember, she didn't know if she was grateful or not, "Do you think I care that you've been divorced? Do you think I care that you were a bit wild when you were sixteen and went off the rails? Well, obviously, that's to say, I do, for your sake, of course. But I don't mind, it doesn't make me think any less of you, god, how could I mind? Phyllis, I like you far too much for any of that to make any difference.:

She bowed her head as she listened to him. As she looked up, a smile broke onto her face.

"So you don't mind," she asked, "That this has all happened a bit suddenly? I was worried I'd spoiled it."

"In a way I'm very relieved," he told her, "It means I don't have to make a complete arse of myself trying to find the right way to ask if you fancy going for a drink."

She laughed softly.

"Fair enough," she replied, "I suppose it also saves me making an arse of myself wondering what exactly you mean by asking me out for a drink."

He chuckled too.

"I'd started to wonder too," he confided in her, "Trying to work out how on earth I was going to ask you. I had a desperate idea of trying to catch you under some mistletoe at the party tonight."

"Well, you didn't need that in the end," she told him softly. She was lying back down beside him now, half-curled on her side, facing him, watching him in the semi-darkness, "There was some knocking about I think."

"Yes, there was," he replied, "Thomas was super-intending it. I wouldn't have bloody dared with him standing over me."

She chuckled a little.

"He means well," she told him, "He just… takes the piss sometimes."

"Yeah," he agreed, "Enough to make me lose my nerve, anyway."

She smiled sympathetically at him, reaching out, stroking his chest softly.

"I'm so happy this doesn't have to be the end," she told him, "Of us. Bit of a bloody strange beginning, but it's better than the end."

Gently, he picked up her hand from his chest, raised it to his lips and kissed her palm.

"Me too," he agreed.