Shadow Boxing

A/N: Rated PG-13 but beware – Yuri does indulge so, don't get caught reading his swear words! (I won't tell!) Don't own anything except a map to London. Dedicated to Lady Bella, who wanted a Shadow Killer sequel. Well, it's not exactly that, but it IS a fluffy bunnie!

"You mean, they go through all this cuz they get a box?" he laughed. "That's dumb! I thought it was maybe, you know," he raised his fists and shadow boxed at the street, "fisticuffs."

Alice covered her mouth with her hand, restraining her giggles for only a moment.

"It's an old custom, dating back to the time when the Lords or Ladies of the manor would give gifts for the servants. It was in a box and usually contained goodies for the children and maybe a few pennies. Nowadays it's cash. It was originally St. Stephen's Day," the diminutive exorcist supplied.

Yuri stopped his shadowboxing and stared as a police Bobby passed by, looking at him suspiciously. "So it's a good excuse to party," he said.

"Yes, perhaps a bit too much so, but it is harmless and it is the day after Christmas. Which you slept through," this last said with a stern voice and Yuri was reminded that he had begun Christmas day with a hangover. He'd worked the day before and, it being Thursday and Christmas Eve, he knew his lovely wife would be at church with her mother, so he had supper at the pub with the guys. Well, supper and drinks - lots and lots of drinks. Smirking just a little, he remembered the betting going on that night. He knew he was going to be plastered, looked forward to it actually, especially as someone else was buying. But he had won his share of the pot, drunk until he couldn't hold anymore, then watered the light post outside the pub and wobbled home. He knew he'd gotten home safe when he woke up with the afternoon light blinding him and Alice poking him in the ribs. His smirk widened as he followed Alice toward the nearby shops, her pocketbook clutched close much as she held her Bible in battle, her dark blue dress swishing and swaying with her steps and finally he was grinning, both at his fond memories and at her enticing derriere.

'Man, I'd follow that fine ass all the way back to China,' he thought, following her across the street quickly to make it to the sidewalk. She paused to look in one window, her ice-blue eyes sparkling, but no, she didn't stop there, instead continuing on, her hips swaying side to side, her nice round back-side a bit of eye-candy that Yuri would much rather have in bed right now. She was right though, he did wake up with a hangover yesterday and thoroughly pissed off his mother-in-law to boot, so he figured he owned Alice this shopping trip. The markets, in spite of the war, were doing brisk business; the ships were still coming in from America with their cargos and now was a good time to shop – or so Alice said. 'Man I hate shopping,' he thought, chewing on his lower lip, watching as his delectable wife stopped yet again to investigate a storefront.

"Here we are Yuri," she said and stepped in. Yuri paused at the door, looking into the shop, a gaggle of women inside hovering around the display tables.

"Huh, what's that all about?" he asked aloud and pushed open the door.

Inside, the shop was small, with mannequins displaying rugged as well as functional attire; racks were placed periodically with clothing on hangers and a couple of display tables were near the front with sale items; it was here that Alice stopped and had become involved in an elbow match with another woman over... Yuri looked closer and instantly felt his eyes nearly pop from his head... lingerie. He did another quick look and realized the bulk of the items in this shop were women's feminine things. He looked from left to right and then decided he'd wait outside but the door behind him suddenly opened, the brass bell chiming over his head, and he found himself being shoved further into the offending store.

He now found himself front to back with a rather large woman, her rump firmly pressed against him while she bent over the table and Yuri could feel his face growing warm. He glanced over at Alice but she had moved along and he was left alone, pressed against this woman. She wiggled when she succeeded in getting the item she wanted and then stood straight, realized she was pressed against someone and turned around to face a broad and well developed chest wearing a pullover top and a black coat. She looked up to see a handsome young man and she giggled at his blush.

"Nice to see you young man," she said through her burbled laughter. "Are you looking for something? Or someone?"

Yuri looked down at a buxomly middle-aged woman with frowzy blonde hair and weepy green eyes and swallowed. 'Ah fuck, she probably wants that someone ta be her,' he shuddered. "Um, well, Alice..." he stammered and then caught a glimpse of Alice standing just beyond the table, a pair of beribboned pink silk panties in her hands, and his face blossomed into scarlet confusion. "Um, yes, no, um, shit!" he quickly turned and bolted through the door, the tinkling bell marking his passing.

Outside he took several deep breaths before slamming his fists into his trench coat pockets. There was no way in hell he was going back in there! 'I'd rather face Albert again, or his stupid god thingy, or ... or ... fuck, a room full o' preachers.' He shuddered again and not just with the winter chill and walked away, leaving Alice to her silk panties. His feet carried him rapidly down Oxford Street with its hustle and bustle of Boxing Day shoppers and with his shoulders hunched and his eyes to the ground; no one bothered the fierce looking foreigner. In a few minutes of fast walking he had crossed Tottenham Court Road and was entering High Holborn and he stopped to check his surroundings; the shopping district was behind him and he faced a mixture of old and new housing, a few well-to-do large Victorians still in evidence and, just ahead the white cross of St. Bart's Hospital. With a smile, he shook himself, pulled his hands from his pockets and pushed down his belt. It was only a little further, and it had been such a long time... and he set off at a brisk pace, his boot heels clacking on the concrete walkways and old cobbles as he ascended into Newgate.

After a half hour of brisk walking Yuri crossed the little bridge that spanned Middlesex and dropped down onto Old Castle Street. Ahead, over the viaduct, was the dilapidated old mansion that the London Rats had called home. Its windows yet wore boards, the grounds were overgrown with weeds and garbage, and the house showed no signs of life. Standing beneath the lamppost, Yuri stared at the sad old house and remembered fondly his last visit there.

Koudelka was packing, laying a few dresses and a change of clothes for Halley as well into an old carpet bag. Halley had remained downstairs, dealing with Sharon and Joshua who were both excited he was leaving for America and angry that they weren't going along. They alternated between screams of joy and loud, sobbing tears and Halley had his hands full. Old Carl had come over and was trying to entice Sharon to practice her summoning in the pit, but she was having none of it right now, while Joshua followed Halley around like a second shadow; Chris was taciturn, refusing to speak to anyone while she prepared the stew for supper. Yuri had watched them for a few minutes, a smirk playing on his lips before catching sight of Alice's frown. Wiping the grin from his face, he climbed the ladder to the bedroom, watching Koudelka from the stairs. She was bent over the bag, folding in a pair of worn trousers, her back to the stairs, and Yuri couldn't help looking at her well-proportioned back-side.

'Too bad she's older'n me,' he thought, and then shook himself, wondering where his mind was going. "Um, Koudelka?"

The beautiful gypsy woman straightened, turning toward the stairs, her lips parting in a full-lipped smile while her eyes glowed.

"Yuri, how nice of you to come and escort us to Southampton; I know you and Alice were going to Zurich soon," she said and her voice was rich with the Welsh countryside.

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck, blushing slightly. "Ah, it's okay; I mean, it's not like we can't get a boat anytime or somethin', and Alice wants to go to Paris and visit some relative an' I'm in no hurry..." he replied. "You just about packed?"

Koudelka nodded. "There isn't much to take," she said and indicated the carpet bag. "Just a few changes of clothes."

Yuri nodded. "Look, there's something I'd like to give ya… something to remember us by," he said and the rosy blush on his cheeks threatened to burst into bloom. Koudelka looked up expectantly, waiting for Yuri to recapture his composure. "It - it's not much," he said and reached into his trench coat, pulling out a folded piece of paper from his inside breast pocket. "Just a little somethin' I drew…" He took a step closer and handed the paper to her, his hand shaking just a little, then he withdrew as if to return downstairs.

"Wait Yuri," Koudelka said and she opened the sheet of paper, looking down to see the drawing offered as a gift. "Could you take down my bag for me?" she asked, her eyes scanning the lines without looking up. Yuri scrambled back to her side, snatching up the bag and hesitating just a moment as he picked it up, looking at Koudelka as she scanned the picture.

"It's really crap," he said softly.

"No, no it's not," she replied and her eyes roamed over each line, each shade of the pencil as it moved over the paper and brought out lights and shadows with a bit of scribble here and there. On the sheet, with much erasing and a bit of torn corner, was a portrait of friends. Sitting on a chair, her back straight and her face angelic was Alice; Margarete stood next to her, gun pulled and a wink in her eye. Behind Margarete was Keith, his face partly in shadow and partly lost by a tear in the paper. To the other side was Yuri, standing behind and with one hand on Alice's shoulder, the other hand was around Halley's shoulder, claws threatening to slice the young rascal's throat, while Halley, standing next to Alice was aiming a sling-shot at Yuri and, sitting on the floor at Halley's feet was Zhuzhen, his hat knocked askew and his staff broken. The lines were simple, not in great detail, but Koudelka could see that they were drawn with skill and love.

"It's very good, Yuri. Thank you," she said and glanced up to see the embarrassed but expectant harmonixer waiting at the head of the stairs. He grinned then thundered down the stairs, slamming open the ladder-door and calling -

"Look out below you bastard kid!" A thump then a loud crash sounded and Koudelka knew that her bag had landed on someone below, probably Halley, and the resultant melee would involve half the household.

And indeed the wrestling match had involved just about everyone, but mostly Halley and Yuri. When Koudelka had come down for their last supper together, she had been greeted by a slightly battered, bruised and bloodied Yuri and Halley, both breathless with laughter. Through supper, they all chatted amiably, but as the meal wore on the younger children grew silent, Sharon wiping a tear from her eyes and pretending it wasn't there and Chris staring at Halley with daggers for eyes. Halley had no idea how to deal with his angry friend and so was ignoring it, which, even Yuri could see, was not a good idea. Finally, they said their goodbyes, Yuri taking their bags up the ladder to the street and then waiting for them to join him. He looked up at the old house, much as he was doing today, and wondered if he'd ever see them again. With a shrug, he walked across the yard to the broken door and descended the ladder.

To his surprise, the old manse was not deserted. Joshua had work at the inn and spent his nights with the innkeeper who unofficially adopted him while Carl had taken Sharon under his wing, delighting in the strange little girl's summoning abilities and running the business of her pit fight. They made enough to live comfortably and put some away for Sharon's schooling. But Chris was nowhere to be seen; Yuri recalled her grumbling something about nannying but was unsure where that might have taken the young girl – he hadn't seen her since that night over a year ago. Descending into the basement, he heard noises in the pit fight arena and quickly jumped over the wooden walkway to the stairs leading into the pit. Inside Sharon had summoned a monster and it was in combat with a big man, hair slicked back and black with wax, the man looked like a circus strongman. Yuri stood back, arms folded over his chest, and watched the show. Little Sharon, her hair in pigtails, was standing to one side of the pit arena, her hands folded as if in prayer and her eyes half-lidded. Her lips moved slightly and Yuri could almost hear what she was saying before an explosion filled the little room.

In the pit arena the big man was lying flat on his back, long thin needles piercing his chest and abdomen and he moaned in pain. Carl watched eagerly to see if the man would rise, and when he didn't he tapped Sharon on the shoulder.

"That's enough, sweet heart; he's beaten."

In the ring, a large white monster began to fade into the background and Yuri grinned, recognizing the hideous monstrosity that had been Doctor Jack's "momma". He knew those needles of hers well, having suffered her piercing attack more than once while fighting her and her insane son in the one-time orphanage. Old Carl climbed the three narrow steps to the arena floor and offered the man a thera leaf before turning his grey wrinkled face toward Yuri.

"A challenge?" he asked gruffly.

"Whatya offerin?" Yuri asked, watching the strong man limp out of the arena.

"For you, twenty-tens," Carl said.

Yuri scratched his head. "Twenty tens? What does that mean," he muttered then suddenly looked up at Carl and Sharon. "Twenty ten-round fights? That's crazy!" he exclaimed, then, "What kinda prize do I get?"

"Something good," Carl said with a grin.

"Nah-uh, I wanna see it; none of this 'it's good' shit," the harmonixer said with narrowed eyes. Old Carl laughed and, with a shrug, walked from the pit.

"I'll be right back," he said.

While Yuri waited he sat on the edge of the pit and talked with Sharon, gently pulling her pigtails and teasing her. She was a bundle of giggles and quickly volunteered how good she'd been getting at summoning monsters.

"I c'n call even the nasty ones from up there," she said with a little girl grin and pointed toward the ceiling.

Yuri looked up at the cobwebbed ceiling and frowned. "The roof?" he asked, ingenuously.

Sharon giggled. "No silly, the floaty thingy that you and Aunt Alice went to," she supplied proudly. "I c'n call up a few from there now too."

Yuri looked down at the young girl and smiled, messing her hair. "Yer gettin' real good at that. You gonna be able ta beat me?" he asked.

Sharon thought hard, her face going quite serious and she frowned. "I dunno, but," and she looked up when Carl stepped back into the arena area, "I'll sure try, won't I Uncle Carl."

Carl nodded. "Yup, you sure will. Here, Yuri, whattya thinka this?" The old man produced a small hand-sized box and opened it just enough for Yuri to look inside. The young fighter's eyes widened and he breathed an airy whistle.

"Oh yeah, nice," he said. "All right, I'm game." He rose and patted his pockets, checking for a few ever-present thera and mana leaves, and then pulled on his gloves and his silver talons. He seldom traveled with his fighting claws, but always had the little silver talons in a leather pouch in his pocket. They would do for most problems and quite a few monsters as well and were, with the exception of his beloved Nightbird Claws, his favorite weapon.

Little Sharon climbed up to the pit arena and waited for Yuri to join her, her eyes already beginning to narrow in concentration. A feeling of excitement was beginning to rise in him and he rolled his shoulders and neck in preparation for combat. In another second a shimmer began in the middle of the arena, a white and red mist rising from the floor and enveloping him. Suddenly he heard the scrap of metal on stone and raised his hands. A shadow moved from the mist and he saw the glint of blood-covered steel and knew he was facing a Bifronze; but this one seemed different – it was bigger, taller and with a much larger scythe, and it wore an almost feral grin on its ugly face. Yuri felt his hackles rise and he shook his head.

'She's getting clever,' he thought.

The Bifronze was indeed more than it appeared, with fire magic at its disposal and with its wickedly sharp scythe; Yuri had to concentrate on not being severely injured in the first round. He jumped in for a quick punch and kick, and then moved back. His movements were smooth but a little slow and he mentally chided himself for getting out of condition and, with a grin, thought to himself that he'd be in great condition by the end of these fights. He waited as the Bifronze moved in for a swipe with its weapon and then jumped, scissoring his legs in mid-air and, catching the creature by the head, rolled and snapped its neck. The Bifronze crumpled to the floor and vanished and Yuri rose to his feet, dusting off imaginary dust from his coat.

"Gotta do better than that, girlie," he said with a grin.

"All right, here it comes," the little girl said with a smile, and her voice fell to muttered cadences again as she summoned. Yuri turned to face the misting center of the arena and then began to curse vociferously; never challenge the one managing the summoning. He watched in silent disgust as Doctor Jack's ugly monster mother appeared in the arena, her needles ready for damage.

"God damn, no fair!" he said through a clenched jaw before moving in for the first strike.

Yuri leaned against the iron railing surrounding the Elliot home and sighed. He looked up at the house he had helped refurbish over this least year and frowned. Its gabled windows were dark, and the lower floor sitting room, which faced Alliston Road, had its drapes closed. He sighed deeply again, realized it was probably well past bedtime and that he'd probably be sleeping on the floor in the servant's quarters again. Sniffing, he realized he needed a bath after the intensive workout of the afternoon and Alice wouldn't let him sleep with her until he had. Moaning and muttering about the unfairness of the Universe, God and his angels, Yuri pushed open the gate and climbed the steps. He didn't have the front door key so he reached into the nearby planter and extracted the spare, smirking at his own cleverness for thinking of that, but then remembering it was Alice who gave him the spare. Chuckling tiredly, he opened the door.

The downstairs entryway was lit by a small lamp sitting on a telephone cabinet that was set along the wall. Yuri couldn't restrain his grin, knowing it was his Alice who had placed the lamp there. He took the pouch with his talons and put it in the top drawer and, unbuckling his belts, hung them up with the coat on the coat rack; then, boxes in hand, he slipped through the entryway door and headed for the stairs.

The first door on the right at the top of the stairs was theirs, Alice's bedroom, and he stopped, turning the door handle slowly, pushing open the door he looked within but the room was dark, the drapes closed against the chill of winter night and the street lamp. He entered and stopped just long enough to kick off his boots before approaching the bed. He went around to his wife's side of the bed, her round form moving slightly in sleep and he paused long enough to look down at her form in the darkened room. He then moved forward, putting one knee on the edge of the bed and bent down to kiss her when suddenly his world exploded. A brilliant white light suddenly burst from the bed where his wife lie, Alice's light attack bursting from beneath the covers and slamming into him, knocking him on his ass across the room.

"Fuuuuuuck!" he yelled.

"Yuri?" Alice called and stumbled from the covers, falling to the floor with a thud. "Yuri?"

"God damn it Alice," Yuri panted, a groan of pain following his words and he pounded the floor with one fist, grinding his teeth.

The bedroom door slammed open then and Mrs. Elliot was standing in the doorway; she flicked on the light switch for the room and gasped as Alice, her nightgown pulled half off from her fall out of bed, climbed to her feet.

"What is going on in here?" she asked then spotted Yuri lying on his face on the floor. "Oh, he finally decided to come home?" she snorted. "I suppose he's drunk again?"

"No, I—" Yuri started and then moaned, his hands still covering his face. "God damn I hate that," he cursed.

"Father in Heaven, clean up your mouth, Yuri Hyuga," exclaimed Mrs. Elliot. Alice had gotten to her feet and pulled on her robe, tying the belt before crossing the room to kneel at Yuri's side, her long hair cascading down to sweep across his supine form and one hand out in an offering of healing.

"Well damn it, you didn't just get hit in the face by Alice's Blessed Light," he muttered and slowly sat up, rubbing his face with one hand.

"Well, it is your own fault for sneaking in at this hour," Mrs. Elliot replied. "Where have you been," and she looked closely at his filthy clothes.

"Mother, please, let me deal with this," Alice said from the floor. She turned to her husband, "Where were you Yuri? You left me alone in the store?" she said, looking closely at him; he was utterly filthy, with blood stains on his shirt and scratches and cuts over his face and arms. He looked like he had been fighting.

Yuri looked from wife to mother-in-law and back to Alice. "I was…"

"Have you been in a fight? You're all bruised and cut?" she interrupted.

Yuri wiped his face with one hand, running his fingers through his unruly hair before rubbing the back of his neck, trying to hide the truth with misdirection. "Well, no – yes – no, not really," he stammered.

Mrs. Elliot tsked from across the room, her lips pressed together and she watched as her son-in-law climbed to his stocking feet. She knew he was lying and said so.

"No, really…" Yuri said and patted his pockets. "I have it right here. See, I was just walking and ended up at Sharon's - okay? I didn't fight any humans, or… at least I don't think so." Not finding the boxes in his pockets he remembered he had them in his hands when he came up stairs and went to his knees on the floor, sweeping the floor with his hands, searching under the dresser and the bed skirts.

"What are you looking for Yuri?" Alice asked, sitting back on her heels and pulling closed her robe from slipping open again.

"The boxes – the ones I got from Carl – I had 'em a minute ago," he was fishing around under the bed and his hand found one box then another, wondering how they could get so far under the bed.

"Ah hah, see I told ya," he said and climbed to his feet once more and held out the two small, hand-sized pink boxes, offering one to Mrs. Elliot and one to Alice.

From her place on the floor, Alice looked up at her husband with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was likely to do anything and it worried her sometimes. Now, coming home with pink boxes in the middle of the night, admitting he fought in Sharon's Pit Fights... with a sigh, she rose to her feet and, crossing the bedroom floor, took the proffered box, while her mother approached and took the other.

Alice looked at the slightly battered box, with its draggled ribbon and, with a smile, opened it. Inside was a small flower, its petals once pristine white but now a little golden brown around the edges. She sniffed the flower and sighed.

"It's lovely orchid Yuri," she said, slightly puzzled but pleased none the less.

"Orchid?" he asked, suddenly worried.

Meanwhile Mrs. Elliot had hesitated before slipping the ribbon from the box, opening the small parcel, lifting the white paper to reveal... her face suddenly blossomed scarlet, and she looked up in shock at her son-in-law before catching sight of her daughter's puzzled expression. Closing the lid, she took the few steps to her daughter and exchanged the boxes wordlessly before leaving the room.

Alice looked from the now closed bedroom door, then to Yuri, before opening the box in her hands. One long finger flicked aside the white tissue paper to reveal the contents; that same slim finger touched the lace within the box, tapping the pink bow with a fingernail. Finally, she took the gift and set aside the box, opening the folded black lace. Panties. Delicate, black lace panties with a small pink bow placed just where...

"You like?" Yuri asked, taking a tentative step closer.

Alice new he was waiting for the yes that would make it all better; the yes that would signal her acceptance of this gift... this embarrassing gift. Looking up at him through thick lashes, she saw his expectant expression and relented; they were, after all, husband and wife.

"They're pretty, thank you Yuri," she said and then added, "now go wash up if you expect to sleep with me tonight."

With relief, Yuri grinned down at his delectable wife before sprinting for the bedroom door, and Alice sighed, listening to him thunder down the hall to the bath – he never did anything quietly. Looking down at the panties in her hands, she swallowed a smile, but still felt the crimson blush rise on her cheeks. No, he never did anything by halves or quietly, not even in bed.

New Year's found the country fighting a cold snap that had emergency services struggling to keep up; coal and heating oil prices shot through the roof and everyone was bundling in blankets to keep warm. Snow fell on New Year's Eve, leaving a clean white sheet over the black and brown that was winter in London, and both Yuri and Alice had stood on the Widow's Walk of Mrs. Elliot's house until a little before midnight. With the war on and zeppelin attacks from Germany, New Year's Eve was a dark one, but icicle stars winked in the sky that peeped out above the low grey clouds. Alice stood at the railing with a wool blanket wrapped around her, her teeth chattering in the frigid temperatures and Yuri, wearing not much more than his usual shirt and coat, put his arms around her, pulling her close to him; his body warmth radiated like a miniature sun and Alice sighed, her breath clouding in front of her.

"Happy?" Yuri asked, his arms protecting his wife from the attacking snow flakes that floated down like fairy dust from the lowering clouds.

"Uh-hum. You?"

Yuri nodded before laughing softly. "Yeah, I got you."

"Romantic," his wife said, yet she snuggled closer within his arms and sighed again.

Yuri leaned down slightly and put his chin on Alice's head, his breath washing over her in a warm cloud. "It's getting late; we've already given the neighbors a show – why don't we go inside and go to bed." They had in fact watched the last of the snow fall, and Alice had watched as her husband, with childlike glee, caught snowflakes on his tongue.

"And?"

"Is there one?" Alice's husband replied, but then chuckled. "Well, yeah there is, but you know how I am."

"Yes, forever in need of cuddling," Alice said, swallowing her laugh.

Yuri pinched her before letting her go to follow her back inside and down the narrow stairs to the second floor. He paused just long enough to slip the latch on the door before running quickly to catch up to her. Alice had wasted no time in laying the woolen blanket on the bed and stripping out of her cold clothing and Yuri, closing the bedroom door behind him, caught her up in his arms, his cold coat now sending shivers through her slim body.

"Yuri! I'm freezing!" she said and struggled a little to pull free.

"I'll warm you," he said and nibbled her ear, blowing softly into it and making her squirm. Her skin was soft beneath his rough hands and he caressed her gently before letting her go to strip off his own clothing. But he paused at sight of his lovely wife pulling on her nightie. "Alice, you wore them," he said with a grin.

Alice was suddenly suffused with a pink flush that descended from her pretty face, down her fulsome breasts, to finally rest at the little black lace panties with the strategically placed pink bow.

"Well, they were a gift," she said, her voice soft and her blush now fully engaged. She suddenly pulled her nightie down and hid the lace panties from view and Yuri finished undressing, his smirk hidden by his turned head and shaggy hair.

"You've forgiven me then?" he asked when he'd finished undressing and stood over the bed, his well-cut naked body in full view of the low lamp light. Alice pulled the blankets up to her chin as she sat in the middle of the bed, her blush suffused but with a slight glow, and her eyes flitting toward Yuri.

"How could I not? You didn't do anything wrong and you did bring a lovely gift," she said, turning away from him and lying down in the bed.

"Even if yer mum did see it first," he chuckled, then shook his head at Alice. "We've been married for what, a year now? And you still can't look at me?"

Alice huddled down in the blankets and muttered something, forcing Yuri to climb onto the bed and straddle his blanket-covered wife.

"I didn't hear that," he said, his lips pulled back in a lopsided grin and his eyes beginning to glow ever so slightly.

Alice moved the blanket away from her face just long enough to reply, "You're naked."

With a rapacious grin, Yuri pulled the blanket down from his wife's face and bent to kiss her nose.

"Of course I am; I always sleep naked – and I do my best work naked too." By now Alice was blushing furiously again, as Yuri kissed first one eyelid, then the next, the lashes fluttering beneath his lips. One of her hands pulled free of the blankets and flitted softly across his chest, then fled beneath the blankets again like a frightened deer. "You are still nervous about this after all this time?" he breathed and Alice nodded, sending clouds of silver-white hair onto the pillow beneath her. Yuri pulled back the blanket and climbed into bed, pulling the covers back over them before he turned to pull his wife into his arms.

"You're so warm," Alice said with a sigh. "Like a hot fire."

"And you have the coldest feet in the universe," Yuri said, suppressing the sudden shivers as Alice curled her legs up and thrust her feet between his legs. "Damn, Alice, your feet are like icebergs."

Alice giggled quietly, her face nestled close to his chest, her soft breath washing over him like a prayer.

"Well, I guess that's okay," he said to himself. He looked down at Alice, running one work-roughened hand over her hair, letting a finger pick up a silver strand to pull it away from her face. To his amusement she had already dropped into sleep, a little smile on her lips showing her contentment and he sighed, knowing he'd have to be content with holding her.

"One of these days, Alice Elliot Hyuga, you're not gonna fall asleep so fast an' I'm gonna get a night's work out of it," he said softly, and pulled her closer, slipping one arm under her and letting the other hand rest on the soft mound of her nightie. He smiled, letting his fingers gently caress what he wasn't going to get that night and kissed the top of her head.

"Good night Alice…" his voice was growing sleepy as he breathed in her delicate scent and he smiled, letting his eyes close. "My beautiful wife… my woman…"