This is yet another foray into the AU created by Miss Puppet in her glorious story Woman of Yorkshire; another one of my expansions on the epilogue, this time when Ruth and Tim decide to move in together. This is going to be a two-shot, with the rating probably going up next chapter.

Be My Baby

"Ruth, darling, there's some news," he called, coming through the sitting room door and depositing his work bag by the settee. Increasingly he was forming a habit of coming around to Maple Cottage before going back to his own house- now it almost felt wrong not to.

She looked up a little sharply from where she was clearing up the mess of magazines, books and other papers that littered the dining table.

"Good news I hope?"

He smiled to reassure her.

"Yes, it is good news," he told her, crossing the room to where she stood still, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "Very good. We've got a buyer for my house."

"Really? Tim, that's wonderful!" she beamed, wrapping her arms tightly around his body, nestling her head happily against his chest for a second before looking up at him again to ask; "Are they serious?"

"The estate agent seemed to think so," he told her happily, "They're willing to pay the asking price at any rate, so-..."

"So it's as good as sold," she finished for him.

"Yes," he agreed, "They can have it. I can't wait to get rid of the place and find somewhere with you. Somewhere we can live together properly, if that's still what you want."

She only had to look at him; her smile radiated contentment at the suggestion.

"We will find somewhere," she told him, "Somewhere that's-..."

"Perfect," he supplied, "No need to rush."

"No," she agreed, "Not at all. We have all the time in the world."

He kissed her forehead before they broke apart.

"Will you stay for some supper?" she asked him, moving a pile of books unceremoniously onto the floor at the foot of the bookcase, "I've got some stuff for a stew, and there's far too much for me to eat by myself," moving into the kitchen, and then peering rather shyly around the door, "I was wondering if you could be tempted into staying anyway," she confessed.

"You'd have more trouble persuading me to leave than trying to get me to stay," he told her, smiling.

"There's a bottle of wine in the fridge," she informed him, then, "You could stay the night."

"I'd like that. I'm not needed at work until tomorrow evening."

"You could stay all of the day too, then," she told him, a definite glint in her eye.

"Wicked woman," he told her, following her into the kitchen, unable to resist wrapping his arms back around her, pressing her back against his chest, planting a kiss at the curve of her neck, "What would you have done if I'd said no to your voluptuous enticements?" he teased.

"Opened the wine anyway and drunk myself into a stupor, no doubt," she replied, laughing a little bit, nudging herself gently out of his arms to start getting the pans out of the cupboard.

He laughed too, before reflecting seriously;

"I could never say no to you, Ruth. Never."

She gave him a dazzling smile over her shoulder, before busying herself with the pans and ingredients again.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Not at the moment. Go into the sitting room and choose some music," she told him, "Then come back and I'll see if there's anything."

Ruth kept her CDs along the top shelf of her bookcase, because it was too close to the low ceiling to keep any books in. He realised as he started to flick through title of the albums that he had never looked through her music collection. He knew she was slightly protective of it- having been teased mercilessly over the years by Celia for her eccentric tastes- and she certainly didn't let just anyone rifle through it. There was nothing too shocking, though, he thought; some Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell , plus a few that he'd never heard of. It was all very Ruth. Then he found one thing that particularly surprised him; one thing that made him smile...

"What on earth did you put that on for?" she enquired from the kitchen door as the first beats of The Ronettes issued boldly from the CD player.

"What on earth do you have the Be My Baby single for?" he asked, grinning a little, thinking that it was just typical, really.

"Nostalgia," she replied defensively, disappearing again, the sound of chopping resuming, "And it's a good song."

"I'm not saying it's not," he told her, "It just looked a bit odd amongst all the other stuff that's there."

"And does it, or the rest of my collection not meet with your approval?" she challenged him endearingly, peering around the kitchen door and raising an eyebrow.

"You could listen to heavy metal and I wouldn't care," he told her, "Well, actually, you don't intend to start, do you?"

"Not in the immediate future. No, I do understand that," she told him, "I'm not sure that I'd really care for living with a heavy metal listener either."

He paused for a few seconds, wondering if he'd heard her rightly. Then he paced quickly into the kitchen.

"Ruth? Living with?" he repeated, slowly.

She turned from the kitchen bench.

"Yes," she replied, equally slowly, wondering what he was getting at, "Where else are you going to live once your house is sold? I just assumed that you'd want to-..."

"I did want to!" he assured her, "I do, I had hoped, only I didn't want to ask; I don't want you to feel as if you're under pressure to take me in."

"Well, as seen as I assumed you would move in-..." she broke off, putting down her knife, wiping her hands and turning rather tentatively to face him, "Tim, will you move in with me?" she asked in the most wonderful mixture of confidence and timidity that he had ever seen light her face, "Please. I know it's soon, and my mind is dreading to think of what my mother would say if she could hear me now, but it wouldn't feel right for you to go anywhere else, especially not if we're taking our time to find our own house."

He just watched her for a few seconds, the accentuated glint of life in her eyes, the slight heaviness of her breathing that her anxiety brought about, the way she was just chewing at the inside of her lip.

"My room has as much of your stuff in as it has mine already," she pointed out, more softly still.

He took her hand tightly in his, and kissed the back of it, turned it over and kissed her palm.

"Yes, Ruth, I'll move in with you," he told her just as the song came to an end.

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