The music was so loud, pulsing like a heartbeat as Victoria instinctively moved against Melbourne. It smelled like sweat in here, like the swarm of humanity that had gathered to dance, but he smelled so good, like leather and cologne. She breathed him in and looked up to see him whisper something. She couldn't make out what he'd said, so she furrowed her brow and shook her head. His face went serious then, and he leaned down and put his lips beside her ear.

"I am in love with you."

He did not pull away. Victoria breathed against his cheek, and the music seemed louder than ever.

She blinked her eyes open and felt Dash squirm beside her, and she sighed as she realised it had been nothing but a dream. It was just a memory of a time that had not yet come to pass, an experience she'd already had that could never be again.

Victoria stared at the ceiling of her bedchamber and pet Dash absently. He was lethargic these days, not as playful as he'd once been. Suddenly Victoria could empathise.

"Your Majesty?" There was a knock on her door after a long while, and Lehzen's voice called, "Your Majesty, it is nearly nine."

"I'm coming," she said, not loudly enough for Lehzen to hear. A half hour later, she was dressed in a solemn green gown and seated in her dressing room as Miss Skerrett made a frustrated sound behind her.

"You are struggling with it," Victoria noted, and Miss Skerrett insisted,

"No, Ma'am. It's... it's just a bit more difficult to pin, that's all. It will grow back out in time. I shall make it lovely just the same."

"I'm sorry," Victoria whispered. Miss Skerrett looked a little concerned in the mirror as she jabbed a pin into the twist she'd made of Victoria's hair.

"May I ask, Ma'am, why it is that you wanted to cut it?"

"I'm afraid I do not have a very good reason," Victoria said simply. Miss Skerrett fought with her hair for another ten minutes, and then finally she pulled away and huffed,

"Perhaps a tiara today, Ma'am? Just to... you know, add some elegance?"

Victoria nodded silently, and she watched as Miss Skerrett arranged a small diamond tiara on her head. She would have looked silly in the other time wearing this, she thought. She ought to be glad that she was here, where she was queen and her beautiful crowns and tiaras were not only accepted but expected. But Victoria just wanted to whip the tiara off and toss it to the ground. Somehow she managed to thank Miss Skerrett and to walk numbly out toward breakfast.

"The Right Honourable Lord Melbourne."

He passed into the dining room to see Victoria standing there waiting, her right hand already extended limply. Melbourne dipped to one knee and planted a swift kiss upon Victoria's hand, but when he stood, he could see that something had broken inside of her. Her lovely blue eyes seemed empty, and she lacked the little smile with which she usually greeted him. Melbourne forced his own lips up and said,

"Good morning, Ma'am."

"When will we know about the Privy Council?" Victoria asked without pretense. Melbourne hesitated and then admitted,

"Wellington will propose the idea to them next week."

"Next week," she sounded irritated, and Melbourne clarified,

"Some of the members of the Council are out of London at the moment. Wellington has summoned them back, I believe, but... it won't be long. I do think they will give permission, Ma'am, despite any reservations they may hold. They know you won't take no for an answer, not really. Better to bury a scandal before it becomes a crisis. They will consent. Is that what is concerning you?"

Victoria turned her face away and said quietly,

"I am haunted by the idea of jeans, by the smell and taste of Nando's, by the feeling of walking down the street holding your hand without a single person recognising me. Riding in Black Cabs. Trying and failing to cook for you. Wearing a bra. Being free."

Melbourne rubbed at his forehead and pointed out, "You seemed uneasy there, Ma'am, toward the end."

"I thought I was homesick," she said. "I missed Dash. But he doesn't want to play anymore."

Melbourne reached for her hands and reminded her, "This is your real life. We are together here. We will be married here, and you will be the queen you were meant to be, and -"

"I think I was meant to live in a flat on Gloucester Street," Victoria said. Melbourne gnawed hard on his lip and reached into his coat, pulling out a small book - Lolita by Nabokov.

"I found this on my desk at Dover House this morning," he told her. "Don't worry; I've already opened it and it doesn't do anything. It's just a book. A souvenir, I suppose."

"What a cruel souvenir," Victoria said, taking the book and staring at it. "I shall read it again soon. It is a strangely and wondrous thing to read."

Melbourne desperately wanted to change the subject, so he asked,

"The weather is fine. Will you ride out today?"

"No," she said, and she left it at that. Melbourne frowned and swallowed hard.

"Well... believe it or not, Ma'am, I am still the prime minister of this country, and as a consequence, I have actual work to do today. It's been some time, admittedly, since I have put my nose to the grindstone with politics. I think I will greatly enjoy..."

He trailed off then, because she'd know he was lying. He was tired of political work, and she knew that. He watched her stare solemnly out the window, and he reached to rub a little at her back.

"Shall I see you at dinner, Ma'am?"

"If you'd like to come," she nodded. Melbourne straightened his back and nodded.

"Then I shall see you at dinner. Good day, Ma'am."

"Good day, Lord Melbourne," she said quietly, not looking away from the window as Melbourne bowed and walked from the room.

Victoria stared at her plate of duck and remembered ordering it in the restaurant near the theatre with Melbourne. She sighed as she thought of the biography she'd read of him on the iPhone. He'd had a stroke and had died in 1848. Would that still happen here? Even if she married him, she still might lose him.

Suddenly she wondered if Angela and Oliver had had brunch without them.

"Your Majesty?"

She looked up to see an entire dining room table of people staring at her. Her ladies were here, along with a few of their husbands, and Lord Melbourne, of course. The Duchess of Kent was conspicuously absent, having been banished from court for the time being. Victoria wondered why they were all staring, and then Melbourne said carefully,

"Are you not hungry, Ma'am?"

"Oh. I'm sorry." They couldn't eat until she did. She picked up her knife and fork and forced a bite of duck into her mouth, and everyone around the table rushed to pick up their own cutlery. Victoria realised then that she'd probably left them sitting in silence for quite some time, and Melbourne seemed to confirm this with the concerned look in his eye.

Victoria spoke to no one during dinner, which was very rude of her, but she did not care. She was preoccupied with the idea of losing Melbourne here, with the idea that the doctors in the future might have had some way to keep her with him for longer. She had been his wife there in the future, but here it was uncertain if she'd really be allowed to keep him. She could refuse to give him up, but he might be taken just the same.

After dinner, Victoria walked quickly from the dining room without saying goodnight to anyone. That was rude, too, she knew. She still did not care. As she walked briskly down the corridor toward her own chambers, she heard Melbourne's voice behind her.

"Your Majesty."

She stopped and turned slowly round, preparing to send him back to Dover House, but Melbourne said carefully,

"I received a message from the Duke of Wellington this afternoon, Ma'am."

It had been six days since they'd last discussed this matter, and in all that time, Victoria had not had Melbourne in her bed. She'd barely spoken in a week, and she knew that everyone was whispering. The queen had fallen into a deep melancholy over the uncertainty regarding Melbourne. That was what everyone was saying. They were not exactly wrong.

"And what did the Duke of Wellington say?" Victoria asked Melbourne. He took a few steps toward her and said,

"He says that when you gather the Privy Council and ask their permission to marry me, the Council will approve."

Victoria's heart sped up a little, and she nodded. "That is good news."

Melbourne frowned. "I admit, Victoria, that I thought perhaps you might be a bit more happy about it. I wish with all my heart that I could help you find joy again."

"I am already married to you," she reminded him. "It will be pleasant to say the vows again. Goodnight, Lord M."

She turned to go, and he reached quickly for her wrist. He shook his head desperately and said,

"Please let me stay tonight. You worry me."

"I worry you?" Victoria scoffed and shook her head. "I have been tortured. Taunted with two worlds, two lives, two fates. I will never belong anywhere again. Even if we went back there, Lord M, it would never be real. It would never be ours. And here, I fear losing you, and I miss the memories we made."

"Oh, Victoria," Melbourne whispered, "There are so very many more memories to be made here."

She laced her fingers through his, wishing she weren't wearing a glove so that she could feel his skin properly, and she nodded.

"Stay," she said finally. "Come to bed with me."

"Yes, Ma'am." He followed her into her drawing room, and they walked silently into her bedroom. She would need to be undressed, and he would shamelessly wait for her on her bed. They were both long past caring about the judgment of others. Victoria opened the bedchamber door and froze when she saw a thick book on her bed.

Kings and Queens of the United Kingdom.

"Don't pick it up," Melbourne warned her. "Wait."

He approached the book and stared at it, and Victoria nodded at him as he finally reached for it. He seemed to hold his breath before opening it, and Victoria fully expected to be rocketed into the future again like they'd been before. But instead, all she got was an open book.

"Oxford University Press, 1995," read Melbourne, and he flipped the page until he got to the table of contents. He dragged his finger over a line and then turned two-thirds of the way through the book, and she could see that the chapter was entitled Queen Victoria. Melbourne cleared his throat and read one of the paragraphs.

"In 1839, amid scandal surrounding their relationship, Victoria married her prime minister, William Lamb, 2nd Viscount Melbourne. By all accounts, their marriage was happy, but after five childless years, rumours abounded of Melbourne being impotent from the mild stroke he suffered in 1841. However, Melbourne fully recovered, and the rumours were silenced when Victoria gave birth in 1844 to a daughter, and six more children followed. Her children and grandchildren married into royal families all over Europe. Melbourne, who was named Prince Consort in 1851, lived to be ninety-seven years of age. Victoria's reign of sixty-three years was the longest in history at the time of her death."

Melbourne shut the book quietly and set it down, and Victoria felt a sudden spike of relief go through her. She would not lose him. She would keep him for a very long time. She would have years alone with him, and then they would have a family together. Her reign would be long and happy. Silent tears began to stream down her cheeks, and she whispered,

"I shall never forget the bras or the jeans, Lord M, and I'm sure we were missed at brunch. But you are right. Our life is here."

"Yes." He took her face in his hands and kissed her delicately. "Our life is here, Victoria, and we will be together, and we will be happy. And this life, the one we will make here, is one we could have never had without going forward."

Victoria wanted to answer, but she found herself utterly drowning in his kiss. For the first time in a good long while, she did not mind being lost.

~ THE END ~

Author's Note: The loose ends of this story wrapped themselves up a bit more quickly than I'd anticipated, but I do hope you've enjoyed this story! I promise to begin another Vicbourne fic shortly, and I hope you'll join me for it.