Title: Three Kisses (1/1)

Author: granger2malfoy

Pairing: fanonBlaise/Hermione

Rating: Teen, I think….

Dislaimer: Not mine… hides Blaise under the desk and not betad.

A/N: This is written for Quiet Ones WC#32, which includes all the required: a glass slipper, an emerald, a poem, a computer, a fear. The poem is called Three Kisses written by Alan Harris.

Blaise sat at his desk as he entered his latest sales records from the family business that he fully took over about three years ago. With an almost empty cup of coffee to his right, he stood to stretch and smiled at the sound of his beautiful wife in the shower. On the floor next to him, their five-year old daughter lay on her stomach with her feet in the air as she concentrated on the book in front of her. The story of Cinderella was her favorite that he had read more times than he could remember. That was one reason he insisted for her to practice reading on a story that she knew by heart. Her small fingers ran under the words and she asked, "What's this word again, Papa?"

He still smiled every time he heard that word. Papa. Angie loved reading. Just like her mother.

Blaise bent done to see the word that was causing her problems and pulled on one of her dark curls as he replied, "Slipper. A glass slipper laid on the steps."

"Oh, slipper. Thanks," his daughter said and went back to reading softly as he headed to the kitchen to get more of his beloved coffee.

Blaise lifted the hot pot of coffee when he heard a loud noise come from the direction of their bathroom. Luckily, the pot did not crash from his fright but he quickly placed it on the counter as he ran to where the love of his life was. Once at the door, he noticed the door was locked. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Is mum all right?" the voice of Angie came from behind his leg as she glanced up to him.

The female voice came from behind the barrier and said an uncertain voice, "Yes, I'm fine, in a way. Mum is okay, darling. Go back to reading."

Blaise smiled down at his daughter but was still not sure what was making his normally calm wife to act so weird. He spoke to the little girl, "Go ahead. Go back to reading."

Once their daughter walked out of view, he lowered his voice as he stated, "Open the door, love."

"No."

He pulled back from the door as he raised his eyebrow. She sounded more like a five-year-old than their daughter. Silently, he used his wand to open the door and saw his beautiful wife in her dark plum bathrobe in front of the mirror. Blaise stepped behind her and inhaled the lovely scent of Jasmine in her long hair from the shampoo. "What is wrong, Hermione?"

Her face scrunched up as peered at his reflection of the mirror before she let out a defeated sighed and commented, "I'm old."

Wow, he did not see that coming. "Hardly."

Hermione turned twenty-six on her last birthday and was more beautiful now than she ever was. It never too much for his body to respond at just the sight of her. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she snapped, "I am too. I am afraid I am getting old, Blaise. All those young women at the labs and and…"

"Nonsense, no one can lit a candle to your beauty," he chuckled as his lips danced along her neck up to her ear. Slowly he sucked in her lobe where she wore the emerald earrings he had given her for Christmas. "Those girls are completely fake and can never win an argument against you. That's one reason that you are the Chair of the Research Department. Now, tell me were all this came from."

Hermione shook her head defiantly as he smirked against hair and slipped his fingers into the edge of her robe as he sought out her perfect bosom. Old, my arse.

"Don't touch me, even my breasts aren't the same after Angie. I got my first gray hair, Blaise! I'm getting old. You're married to an old-"

His long fingers pinched her right breast to cause her from finishing that sentence. Blaise closed the door with his foot as his free hand tugged the tie of the robe open. Against her bum, his budlge told her that a single light-colored hair did not matter because he desired her more than ever. Softly his hands cleared her mind of all thoughts except of pleasure and passion, as his words were quiet against her ear. "Do you remember the first poem I read to you?"

Her lips turned lifted into a smile as she turned around in his arms and her eyes shut as she began to recite the poem called Three Kisses he told her on their second date. "The first says hello."

Their lips meet in a soft, tender kiss but the kiss held so much love into it that it caused a tear of happiness to fall as he said, "The second says how are you."

The wet tip of his tongue ran along the bottom lip of hers and dipped into hers for the second kiss. His strong hands lifted her bottom to rest on the edge of the sink and they wrapped automatically around his hips.

Blaise pulled back to run his hand along her cheek, down her neck, and rested on her bare hip as he stared into her eyes. The desperate fire of desire flared in his indigo eyes that stole her heart eight years ago. Many times she wondered what this gorgeous, Italian, wealthy, and pureblood wizard with sexy-olive colored skin wanted with a bushy-haired know-it-all with now graying hair. But his touch, his look, and his words spoke against any of her insecurities as he finished the poem. "The third says it all."

As his lips made love with hers, all she could think was that she would be going into work late that day (if at all), that he loved her unconditionally, and his kisses always said it all. Oh yes, it was truly great being Mrs. Hermione Zabini.

The End

A/N2: This is shamelessly dedicated to me because I found my first gray hair. :sniffs : I hope I look okay with red hair that will happen tonight after I die it. :headdesk: