Big thanks again to anyone who's stayed with me thus far. I've had a lot of fun writing it, and it's been a nice way to keep busy between jobs. I do have another in the works, but I might post the whole thing at once for logistical reasons. (I'll explain when I get there.)

Now, as promised, a little naughty to go with your WAFF. Happy New Year, where applicable!

Peter gave up on asking where Assumpta was taking him several minutes before she parked in Cill Na Sidh woods.

"You want your wedding night here?"

"No, we'll sleep in bed like civilised people. I merely want a little time alone with you here." She shot a meaningful look. "Maybe just an hour."

After nearly half a year together, and for that matter three years since they'd met, the sound of her voice saying things like that still had an immediate effect on him. He dropped the rest of his planned interrogation: In a van? At our age? When everyone we know is back at the pub...? As he ran them off in his mind, they all suddenly sounded inspired.

He reached for her hand, clasping it between both his own, admiring the ring he'd slipped onto it just hours earlier. And the ring she had placed on his.

"You won't get too cold?"

"Figure you'll come in handy there. And I always have a blanket," she nodded over the seat back.

"Have you, now!"

"Never know when you'll find some magnificent thing wandering the roadside in the pouring rain."

He only noticed now that a drizzle had set in, and was working its way quickly toward something more like a downpour. Condensation and breath were once again blurring the windows.

She jumped out the driver-side door.

"Assumpta!" He followed suit, coming round to her side, pressing her against the side of the van. The kiss lasted an irrationally long time considering the inhospitable environment.

Neither of them was properly attired for rain; her silk sheath dress was soon clinging provocatively to her every curve, and his dress shirt was now more translucent than off-white. A loud thunderclap interfered with what he wanted to whisper. He noticed it hadn't come too long after the lightning. He opened the sliding door behind her and pushed her into the safety of the cargo bed.

There was a blanket back there, all right - and two pillows. She'd planned this! He made sure the windows were closed, the doors locked, and - always, always - the hand brake set. He jettisoned his muddy shoes, and then took a moment to look at her in the scant light. Wet strands of hair were dripping down onto her collarbone. He leaned in close and chased a rivulet with his mouth, then another, enjoying the reflexive bucking of her hips as he reached just the right spot on her neck. He'd gotten very good at locating that spot, and he looked forward to a lifetime of exploiting it now.

Just as he was congratulating himself for this, he felt her brush a hand over his fly to gauge her own effect on him. He grew even harder with her touch, and the movement of her hand intensified in response. Wonderful as it felt, he wanted out of his wet clothes; more than that, he wanted her out of hers. He moved her hand up to his necktie, a plea to help him off with it. Once she succeeded she continued on to his buttons.

Didn't mean they had to do things in proper order, of course. He slid a hand under the skirt of the dress, along her cool outer thigh, then in the warmth between them. He stroked over the silky gusset of her underwear, then under it, delicately at first, then more deliberately when he found exactly the place he wanted. As he perfected his rhythm, her coordination suffered, and she began tugging erratically at his shirt, singlet, and belt, until he helped himself out of them.

He now pulled her underwear off and resumed his careful efforts to ready her. Between his well-rehearsed free hand and her two trembling ones, his trousers and boxers came down easy enough. He reached around to her back zipper, pulling her dress down to reveal a lace bustier he had never seen before. The sight of it was intoxicating, but the feel of at least a half-dozen tiny hooks down the back was daunting.

She made a small whimper, and he realised her half-down sleeves now had her arms bound to her sides.

"Sorry!" he whispered, pulling off her dress the rest of the way. She reached behind herself and undid nearly all the hooks at once. Appreciating the help, he finished them and lifted it away, taking a moment to cherish the sight of her before he brought the blanket over them both and caressed her again beneath it. The second time she whispered "please," he coaxed her on top of him, and she graced him with that delicious grateful moan she always gave when he penetrated her. He made little effort to muffle his own voice as he felt her surround him, but this position put her beautiful breasts well in reach to busy his mouth otherwise. He caught a nipple lightly between his lips, flicking his tongue side to side across it.

If the newness of their first time had been thrilling, it was a different thrill entirely tonight. In the unfamiliar dark of the woods, the noise of the storm, the limited accommodations of the van, they could test what they'd learnt about each other in the last several months. Show off a little, even. He savoured the hungry way she bounced above him, the sultry voice in his ear, the wet warmth tightening rhythmically with his thrusts, all encouraging him along. They moved faster, now, more forcefully, both crying "I love you," louder and louder, as if racing to see who could satiate the other first.

Assumpta won, but only just; as he surrendered within her, he felt her contract and release around him even faster, an unmistakable sign, at a speed as genuine as his own racing heartbeat. Finally she fell across him, shivering, his name on her lips.

He let her be the one to break away. She panted alongside him for a moment, then nestled right back against him, kissing his chest.

"Cold?" he checked again.

"Yeah," she admitted. She always was, afterward, even though they'd worked up a sweat. He engineered what had become the usual solution: resting his arm over the blanket as he pulled it up to her shoulder.

"Don't suppose our clothes would be magically dry by now," he said.

"Bit of a long shot," she murmured. "Too bad you took our suitcases upstairs when we got home."

"You asked me to!"

"Well, I knew we'd need the room back here later," she yawned.

"Clever girl," he breathed, putting his arm across her back. "Guess we'll just have to wait here for a bit."

Her head grew noticeably heavier on his chest, and he knew she had fallen asleep.

"Night, wife," he whispered against the silver noise of rain on the roof of the van. He thought back to her story about priests shining torches in windows. Reasonably certain no one would brave this weather, he was confident enough of his planned response if someone did. For now, he relaxed into the pillow, letting his own eyelids fall.