A/N: Okay, I was satisfied with the oneshot, but I've recently considered the situation in a different POV, and so I've decided to alter the precise focus in this fic to the other side entirely or just a middle ground. Be sure to review and tell me if you liked this better! Oh, and also, I'm contemplating writing up a story of Julian(jr.) and Cathy. Let me know!

For the majority of the way home he was silent. His son seemed oblivious and he was thankful for that. For Daniel Sempere, all his life he had truly believed his first love had been Clara Barcelo. He had of course questioned the notion later on, and at certain points in time, dismissed it as a mere adolescent crush. She was the first girl he had felt feelings towards, of that nature. But with Bea it was something completely different. He had thought he'd just moved on to someone new, but…could it have been that he was never truly in love with her until that first night in the Cemetery of Forgotten Books and every night following?

"Julian, darling! …" she sighed, watching as his son retreated to his room without giving his mother so much as a second glance, though there was a muttered greeting in his departure. She shook her head testily and then turned her gaze to the open doorway where her husband stood.

"Hey stranger," she eyed him down, setting her towel back on the sink and checking on the food momentarily before heading towards her husband.

"Beautiful," he murmured against her face, nuzzling his head against the long curve of her neck. He felt her fingers curl up into his hair and it sent chills racing down his spine.

"How did the love talk go?" she asked, pulling away just out of reach when he tried to kiss her. He looked at her condescendingly for a moment before relaxing in her embrace.

"Good," he smiled, leaning down to try and kiss her again. She pulled away again, throwing a teasing smile in his direction. He sighed. "I told him about Clara." She nodded and released him, moving back to the kitchen to check on the food. He wondered for a moment if he had hurt her but she seemed just as jovial as she had been moments ago. Now, he ached to kiss her.

"First loves then," she clarified, placing the dish towel over her shoulder while she spoke and simultaneously glancing over at the cooking food every now and again. Daniel stuffed his hands into his pockets and nodded.

"Yeah—"

"You really should go see her again sometime, Daniel. It's been so long…"

He sighed. "It's been a week, Bea."

"You know how she loves your company, and she so desperately needs it these days. She's all alone, and the age for marrying off is not exactly sticking around for her."

"Old people marry too," he countered, trying to justify himself. "Besides, she doesn't love my company. She loves fifteen year old Daniel's company," he chuckled. Bea rolled her eyes and stood up from her bent position in front of the oven. Food still wasn't done.

"Whatever the case may be…"

He silenced her with his lips upon hers once she was within reaching distance. Her soft pink lips felt so wonderfully delicious against his lips. Her hair was made of silk and he loved the feel of her in his arms. His intoxicating moment of bliss was cut off abruptly when she roughly pulled away and straightened the apron that hung around her neck.

"It's not nice to interrupt people, Daniel, especially your own wife," she said sternly, though being unable to hide the smirk that crept onto her lips moments later. He cracked a grin.

"It's not nice to reject your husband's kiss either, love," he said casually, walking towards her with seductive eyes. She tried to resist him but her eyes sparkled as he approached and she let him kiss her, sinking into him with a smile.

"Visit her," she murmured just as they parted. He groaned displeasingly.

"Next month, Bea," he pleaded, decorating her jaw line and neck with kisses. She sighed over him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"Fine," she conceded, finally untangling herself from his embrace and moving back into the kitchen. He followed her and leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest.

"I think he may have a thing for Catherine?"

"Sinclaine?" she asked, popping her head up briefly just in time to see him nod. "She's a nice girl," she commented, seeming to have trouble moving something around in the oven.

"Nice and feisty, you mean?" he commented. She looked up again and narrowed her eyes at him. Just as she did two of the trays she had placed in the oven completely collapsed and slipped onto the floor.

"Ah!" she jumped to her feet and backed away a few steps, seeming to have lost her breath. Immediately Daniel sped to her, picked up the trays and somehow managed to make everything align properly inside the oven. When he shut the oven door and stood up straight she was eyeing him like she disapproved and was convinced he was trying to show off.

"What?" he questioned, his eyes scrutinizing her.

"Nothing," she said simply, turning away and washing her hands free of the coal fragments that had made it to her hands, despite their towel-covered barrier. He came up behind her and washed his hands outside hers under the faucet. She nearly jumped again and he took joy in her shivers.

"Was I first?" she asked, her voice quiet. He grew concerned, but he tried to keep the conversation as light as possible for as long as possible.

"In many things, my love," he whispered huskily along the side of her neck, pressing kisses to it. This time there was no reaction from her and he frowned. He heard her sigh distressingly. She reached for a towel and dried her hands with it. She turned around to face him and played with the buttons on his shirt.

"You know what I mean, Daniel." Her curious, almost sad eyes looked up at his, and he knew pretending not to know what she was talking about would only cause trouble. He wanted to tell her she was first in every single way, always had been and that that would never change.

His lips parted. "I don't know," he breathed. Her eyes narrowed and she tried to escape his embrace but found herself unable to through his strong steel-like arms.

"How can you not know?" she demanded, huffing. He sighed, running a hand through his ruffled hair, thinking as an afterthought how grateful he was that she hadn't tried to escape.

"I was sixteen," he said. "To me that was love."

Her lips parted in sadness. She should not have been sad for all that she had. After all, it was her that had Daniel's love now, not Clara. She felt it when his wet hands grasped firm around her arms. She took no notice of the moisture.

"When you came along, Bea," he shook his head and smiled in disbelief how it had all come into place fifteen years earlier. "I fell in love with you in a way I had never had with Clara. What I feel for you, I could never feel with Clara."

"But if—"

"No," he silenced her. He didn't know where her sudden insecurity had come from. He had always wondered for a majority of the time if she was ever insecure to begin with, but in moments like these he was glad that she showed such signs of humanity. It reassured him that he was needed and that he wasn't just living under the graces of an angel, though he still believed that to its fullest.

"Not even if we had been the same age or if my feelings had been reciprocated. Bea, you and I fit like a glove, and I love you now more than I ever thought was possible." He smiled tenderly when an inch of a smirk unraveled on her lips. Her hands curled up into his hair again and his heart beat sped up drastically.

"I got you wet," he murmured against her lips after she'd kissed him. A giggle slipped out despite herself.

"You also get me pregnant, but I'm pretty sure I never complained," her eyes twinkled up at him. He chuckled.

"I don't know. It was pretty touch 'n go there for awhile," he smirked. She silenced his jests with another scorching kiss and he melted in her arms.

"You were my first, Daniel, in every single way," she sighed contently now, resting her head against his chest. He sighed too, uneasily. He wanted to tell her it was the exact same for him, but felt she wouldn't accept it, wouldn't accept that his love for Clara had been that of a boy, and his love for her had been that of a man, that to build a life with and to maintain a passion for.

Suddenly the padding of feet moving down the hallway broke through his thoughts and Bea unwrapped herself from her husband's embrace, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before their son walked into the kitchen inquiring about food. "Later," she mouthed to her husband as they sat down to eat and his eyes glimmered with excitement and a quickly approaching relief. The look she had directed towards him was beginning to convince him that maybe she believed in the signficant firsts she held in his life, definitely more than she had briefly given herself credit for, if only in a moment of insecurity.

Her fingers brushed his as they finished up the meal and Julian rushed off again, dutifully putting away his dishes as instructed by his sweetly commanding mother. Bea didn't say a word but Daniel felt a contentment settle into his stomach and flood through his heart. There was an understanding between them, and he convinced himself that even if there wasn't – though there was – his wife didn't really have a leg to stand on. She had had a teenage "love" too. He smirked and brought her hand to his lips, watching with fascination as she blushed just as she had on the day of their wedding. They all held their unspoken words, but this was what they felt.

…the way we feel…

A/N: I feel this is good. *nods* I'm satisfied. ;p Review!