hhanon | What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

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What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

So, you may be aware that some cast members of HH have acted in other things. Give their profession, this is understandable.

This post is for those who would like to prompt/fic about the other things the guys/girls have been in, without mixing it up with HH-related/non-crossover fic on the other posts.

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Except suddenly he’s drawing his fingers out, and drawing back, and smiling at her as he slowly stands again.

…Right.

“Tim…” She growls warningly, fixing him with her very best glare – the one that can make groups of grown men burst simultaneously into tears and run back to their mothers (who also burst into tears, she’s that good).

“Chris,” he answers with a smile, leaning in for another kiss that she really wants to yank into “…I suppose I’m also alright with having more kids.”

…Her very best glare, the one that makes even dogs attempt to shed the excess water from their terrified eyes! “Is this really the time to discuss that?”

“We’ve discussed stranger things.”

“…True,” Doesn’t stop her from trying to make snakes cry, though, for those damned things have little relevance to the current situation but probably deserve everything that they get, “but that doesn’t mean-“

“Just wait a while, okay?”

“…For what?”

“For kids.”

“Anything else, mate?”

Mate, mate - that should get him trembling in terror, that should get him hiding his head in his hands, that should get him finally worshipping her as the goddess that she deserves to be-

Or should get him smirking, yet again, and leaning in for another sweet peck that has her arching up.

…Close enough, she supposes.

Definitely close enough, as he draws back and immediately nuzzles at her jaw – kissing gently along it before going back and scraping his teeth, so hard and fast that she probably bruises her wrists and definitely gasps loudly enough to be heard.

He just smirks, brilliantly triumphant as he places another nip just to the side of her chin, drops his mouth again and slowly grazes his teeth along her neck – taking a long moment to appreciate the tremble of her breath under his lips.

A brief diversion, to place biting kisses along her collarbone and listen to several pleading swear words.

And then he’s dropping down to his knees again, quickly moving his mouth over the flesh under her collarbone until he gets to the goods. He mouths along the top of her breasts for a moment, leaving several more bites there that she’ll cherish for days to come, before gently shifting on – taking her nipple into his mouth as she tilts her head back.

And she expects him to linger for a second…

Ah! But he doesn’t! He immediately digs his teeth in, traces them around the sensitive flesh as she wails his name above him – humiliating, yes, but entirely deserved.

…Especially as he repeats the sudden treatment with her other nipple.

And extra especially as he drops again, biting along her hipbone before tracing his mouth down her outer thigh, making her tremble and curse and beg (and this is becoming normal by now, she is quite aware) and dig her nails into the rough wood beneath her.

The pressure of his mouth at her knee is brief – wet and warm and ever so good.

And then he is moving up, moving up and tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh with his mouth and gently sliding his tongue and she can quite forgive him for everything ever and… Oh! The touch of his mouth on her is as perfect as ever, maybe even more perfect than she remembered.

She loudly grunts his name, trembling on the edge…

And he draws back again!

“Tim,” she grunts flatly, staring up at him (and pointedly ignoring the bulge in his jeans) as he braces himself against the back of the chair, “if you dare do that again you’ll never be having any more kids with anybody, are we clear?”

He stares down at her for a second, smiles down at her in the next, “I wouldn’t want to have any more kids with anybody but you.”

“…Was that meant to make me melt?”

He only sighs, “possibly.”

“Tim…”

But he is already leaning back in, for another one of those kisses that makes her melt every single time, and she is already yanking against her restraints again. And-

…Oh.

Well, that is certainly new.

Instead of laying his fingers on her, which he’s already done so very well, or pressing his mouth down, which he’s already done even better, he simply leans in. Ghosts his breath over her mouth before moving to the still slightly wet skin of her jaw, gently trailing over her as he moves down yet again.

…Oh.

Oh.

Her eyes flutter shut, yet another habit, as he reaches her collarbone – ghosts air along there. She actually gulps as he moves on, traces the path between her breasts with soft huffs as she wriggles and thrusts.

Her nipples immediately get hard again as he turns his head to softly brush air across them, her mouth falls open and her chest heaves as he studies them for a pleased second and carries on.

The muscles of her stomach tense helplessly as he trails across them, strain towards him in a way that she couldn’t stop even if she’d chained her stomach to the chair, tremble so helplessly that she would never ever want to.

And then…

Fuck.

…She rarely swears during acts like these, oddly enough, but the soft huff of air between her legs makes everything sharp and trembling and hot - suddenly her entire body is focused on that one point, trembling towards that one point in a way so helpless that she’s never felt anything like it. Her nails scrabble hard against the wood, her ankles are tense within their bindings, the entire world has gone silent outside and she doesn’t even care-

For she’s coming, hard and fast and with her entire body practically melting at the sheer shock of it…

And it’s the best orgasm that she’s ever had.

Whoa.

…Whoa.

The moment that she trembles down from her high, and it does take a while because of best orgasm ever and all that, Tim is immediately at her ankles and undoing her restraints. She smiles at it, a little breathlessly and she really doesn’t have to repeat why, languidly wraps her thighs around his hips the moment that he rises to undo her wrists and is happily lifted up and towards the table.

“Are you okay-?” Tim asks, polite as ever even when he’s tugging a condom from his pocket and ripping it open with his teeth.

“I’ll manage, lover boy,” she pants, and giggles as he attempts to tug down his jeans and give her a strange look at the same time “…Sorry, that was awful.”

“It was alright…”

“Awful.”

“…A little awful.”

She laughs properly, leans back on her elbows as he finally gets into position, still finds it within her to hiss and clutch at his shoulders as he slowly slides into her.

“…In the future-“

“Tim,” she interrupts, still unable to stop the breathless giggles even as her nails dig in and she finds the energy to clench around him, “I know, I’m fine with it, move before I’m awful again.”

And he, to his credit, quickly snaps back to obedience and steadily starts thrusting.

And he, also probably to his credit, doesn’t hold out for long – slumping over her within a few minutes and coming panting into her collarbone as she happily wriggles beneath him.

…And he, definitely to his credit, still keeps thrusting until she comes again – a little less intensely than last time but still with a mewl and a screech of nails down his back.

They lay on the table for a long moment, panting.

It’s a happy sort of state.

:DDDD Thank you!

<3333333333333 Thank you!

“Chris!”

“What?”

“Condom, Chris, Condom!”

She shifts on his lap, gives him the utterly incredulous look that only an utter nutter can give “…Tim.”

“Chris!”

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“Chris-“

“No, really, did I forget?”

“Chris-!”

“Answer me, Tim.”

“…Yes, I assume.”

“Oh,” she considers this point, this very sensible and very terrifying point, for a moment – simply beams and continues rolling her hips.

…Which feels nice, he will give her that.

But not nice enough, two days after the discussion about having children (while tied to a chair, he’s pretty sure that these discussions used to be conducted in more neutral places but he can’t really remember), to distract him from panicking just a little about this situation, “Chris-“

“Tim?”

…And, okay, her innocent eyebrow raise does remind him that he wouldn’t actually mind having more kids all that much. Even if they were the antichrist, even if they did bring about the end of the world in an entirely firey way, even if they did end up ruling the universe with a crown of bones.

He just feels that this deserves a bit of clarification, that’s all, “what did you forget to tell me?”

She blinks at him innocently for a moment, still rolling her hips.

“…Don’t make me say your name again.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s starting to lose meaning as a word.”

“Is not.”

“It really is.”

“My name is lovely.”

“…Do you want me to call you Christina?”

She considers this spectre for a second, a cruel one but it is slightly deserved, and briefly stills her thrusts while doing so “…No.”

“So?”

“…Well.”

He glares up at her, even as he braces her back – he’s never been that good at ordering with his eyes, but he sincerely hopes that it gets all sincere (eh, he’s never been an English student) threats across.

“The thing I forgot…”

He tries to make his glare intensify.

“…Alright, I went on the pill a few weeks ago. There’s very little risk of imminent babies, honest!”

…And now he’s staring up at her.

“Really honest!”

Staring.

“…As far as you can say such things.”

Staring…

And, well, he might as well move on from the quite justified staring into bigger and better areas. Might as well turn them instead, ignoring her yelp (because she isn’t properly protesting and she may deserve it), until she’s lying on her back and he’s almost slipped out from between her thighs.

“Tim…” She gasps, when she finally gets her breath back from the toss.

And he won’t tell her to shut up, because that wouldn’t work, and he also won’t try and glare her into submission, because that also has about as much chance of working as his boss becoming sane within the next few days – but he will slam into her with a rather speedy thrust, and feel her clench around him and her nails at his shoulders with some pleasure.

“Tim-“ she groans beneath him, arching up so that her legs can wrap around his hips.

…Right.

He thrusts as speedily and thoroughly as he can, makes her come twice before he comes himself and then makes her come a third time (trembling and actually whimpering his name) with a rather proud flick of his tongue. Allows her to slump happily afterwards, boneless and panting and with a big smile on her face, only because Philip should be bringing Marcus back within the next half hour and he wants them at least vaguely recovered.

…Which she isn’t, not really, by the time that Marcus gets back.

And isn’t, not really, by the time that they’re eating dinner.

And isn’t, not really, even by the time that they’re watching TV afterwards with her languidly nuzzled into his shoulder and Marcus casting them wide-eyed looks every so often.

…It’s a bit weird.

But he can deal with it, in the end, as she finally rouses just before bed and drags him into the shower for a rather wet session. And can deal with it, in the end, as she enthusiastically insists on him making her come again before they sleep and another two times the morning after that (“It’ll annoy the people at work,” she purrs happily, hair fluffed around her head and long limbs sprawled across every inch of space that she can find.)

…And almost appreciate the surprise, which is an odd thing that he was never expecting in a million years. A billion years. A trillion years – even after she jumps on him after work the next day and commits herself to making him come exactly the same amount of times.

Come on, it has to happen.

After the things that happened to poor Tim in that episode Chris finally sees that he needs cheering up. What better than all the bendy sex he can possibly manage?

there is a link for it on historical docs
also, hhhnnnnggg Farnaby in that film.

…He’s standing in a church.

In a suit, with his tie hastily knotted and his hair all over the place and a priest staring at him in a slightly judgemental way. He’s never really met the priest before, perhaps briefly a few weeks ago when he randomly came back to find Chris having tea with the man – and he’s not even sure if this guy was the man, but he certainly looks prepared to do some pretty serious things. Judging by his robes, and the bible he’s clutching, and the way he’s standing at the front of a church.

…Oh, yes, he’s not even standing awkwardly at the back of the church. He’s standing at the front of a church.

With Marcus standing at his side and looking rather wearied by everything, and Justine standing at Marcus’ side and looking rather proud to be involved, and Caitlin standing behind both of them and looking fondly amused. He isn’t really sure when Caitlin and Chris met, possibly at a Christmas party when Chris bounced in dressed in a tiny skirt and almost got hired, but they certainly seem rather close now. Judging by the posh hat that Caitlin’s wearing, and the beaming smile, and the general demeanour of a rather unofficial maid of honour.

…Oh, yes, maid of honour. For he isn’t just standing at the front of a church with a random group of people. He’s apparently getting married with a random group of people too.

And Chris, and-

…And-

Just Chris, really.

Chris looking stunning, with her mad hair down and her train almost long enough to reach to the back of the church (“It’ll trip pedestrians”) and a beaming smile on her face like she’s actually the happiest she’s ever been.

Which is odd, really.

“I didn’t know you wanted to get married,” he confides in a quiet tone, and tries not to sound too awe-struck at her sheer beauty.

A hard task.

…An impossible task, as she turns towards him and beams so brightly that not even the sun could rival it, “marriages don’t really aid society these days, Tim.”

“Don’t they?”

“Nah. The state gets no money, I think, and so no horrifically corrupt systems of government are supported and no bumbling buffoons get a warm feeling from our union,” she pauses for a second, happily laughs, “plus: I get to wear a horrifically inconvenient dress.”

“You’re enjoying that, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“Excuse me,” Marcus interrupts them both, with a roll of his eyes that speaks clearly of a desire to just get on with things (and also a little of fondness, it’s odd how that’s grown as he’s headed into the cold years of adolescence), “but could we please stop the nauseating sentiments and get on with your second marriage?”

“Marcus-“

“It can’t end any worse than your first one, after all.”

“Marcus-!”

…And he would take more offence, he would. But Chris is smiling at him again, and he’s too busy being consumed by wordlessly soppy fondness to do anything but reach out to her and feel her fingers squeeze in return.

“Marcus does have a point,” Caitlin reminds gently, after a few moments of such treatment.

“I’m not sure that he does,” the priest interrupts before he can fully snap free of Chris’ hypnotic sway (not that he could, not that he would ever really want to), “this is most irregular-“

“Shut it, priesty.”

“I’ve only seen the young man once before!”

“Shut it.”

“And I’m not quite sure if I want to marry an anarchist in my-“

“Priesty,” Chris smiles firmly, finally turning away from him and stealing Caitlin’s nickname while she’s at it, “The French revolution was directed not only at the incredibly idiotic aristocracy but also at changing the corrupt influence of the church in general politics, do you want that to happen again?”

“Chris,” he has to interrupt, groping vaguely forwards for her wrist as she glowers at the man, “Chris, that’s not helping our point…”

“Not really,” agrees the priest, looking a little terrified.

“Our point?” Chris smiles, looking back at him with so much fondness that his heart may melt a little.

…He stares wordlessly for only a moment.

“Come on, Tim,” is interrupted by a firm nudge in the ribs from Marcus, and a roll of his son’s eyes that really does say absolutely everything, “we all know your answer.”

“Marcus…”

Caitlin only smiles from the side.

…And, well, he thinks he knows why. As he steps forwards to stand besides Chris, takes both of her hands in his own and smiles at her a little shakily (even though this has to be better than the last time), “our point.”

And she beams.

“…Come on, then.”

And it’s not the most romantic ceremony, not by any means, but as she dips him in a kiss he still finds it the most perfect thing that he’s ever known.

Heck, even Marcus smiles!

The wedding party is not going in full swing below (seriously, he’s pretty sure that Marcus would rather turn into an eight foot lizard than indulge in any vaguely rhythmical swaying), but even if it was that wouldn’t matter. He has Chris pinned to the hotel wall, the train gone and her hair all mussed, and he doesn’t really feel inclined to care about the spirit of party at present moment.

…Wow, that didn’t sound sad at all.

But that’s alright! Because he can blame Chris. His glorious, glorious wife who can’t seem to stop laughing as he hitches her skirt up and traces his fingers over the soft skin of her thighs, “say it.”

“No,” he huffs back, laughing himself as he dips in for another kiss and gently guides her leg over his hip.

“Say it.”

“No…”

“Tim.”

He can’t help chuckling, drunk on the happiness and the atmosphere and the ring (drunken rings, the world will never improve from this moment), even as he gently mouths along her jaw. As he grasps her hips and makes sure she’s propped up against the wall and nudges against her with an eagerness that can’t quite be contained, “Chris…”

She gasps as he finally slides in, giggles again and frames his face for yet another kiss (and he really does want to do this all the time, for there’s nothing in the world better than kissing Chris), “I’m your wife now.”

“So?” He snorts mockingly, pants into her collarbone at the tightness of her (and he’ll never get used to this, he really won’t).

“I’ll make it good for you,” she pouts, hiccups out another laugh as he hits that wonderful angle that he’s finally starting to learn after all this time even though he needs more practice, needs all the practice), “if you’ll be nice to me…”

“I am nice to you.”

“You are not!”

“I married you today,” he tuts, half-tuts because he’s laughing so hard, continues thrusting in an entirely determined way.

“So?” As she pants and tries to look adorable at the same time, a hard feat as her long and lanky limbs start trembling around him.

“That’s pretty nice,” he reminds her, around the chuckles.

“…Possibly,” she admits only reluctantly, trying to tighten her legs and hide the helplessly around shudder (an impossible feat, but an almost endearing one all the same), “but please, hubby?”

“Chris…”

“Please?”

“Chris…”

“Please?”

He only smirks up at her, adjusts his grip so he can slide up at a slightly speedier angle.

“Ah…” One that gets her eyelashes fluttering, and her bottom lip jutting out, and her whole face lighting with a plan in a way that’s so attractive that he just has to kiss her cheek for it, “I love you?”

…Aw.

He considers it for a second, he already knows it but it is a thing to always be considered, before smiling. Bracing himself harder against the wall and leaning in to whisper in her ear in an ever so fond way “…You are my goddess, and I worship you.”

And she gigglesnorts, with a joy that can’t quite be contained-

And tightens everything. Suddenly moving so fast and so thorough that he can’t help but come breathlessly panting her name, with her laughing ever so smugly above him.

…And this really is love.

As it should be, considering that he just married her and shagged her and shagged her in her wedding dress-

But he really does think that this is true love - as she slowly slides her legs down, and gives him an incredibly impish glance, and beams so sweetly that any heart would be touched, “I bet I can make you come again.”

…Yep.

True love, as he gasps wordlessly and stumbles backwards until he can flop onto the bed – stretching his limbs out and panting at the ceiling as she slowly rustles her skirts back over her legs and continues to smirk like she fully trusts her chances.

“…Go on, then.”

And she laughs, actually tilts her head back and laughs-

And slinks over until she can kneel on the bed in between his legs, reaching out to drag first his posh trousers and then his rather uninteresting underwear down his legs. Exposing his cock to air as he arches up on his elbows and frowns down at her in a really quite justified manner.

She smirks up at him, bracing her hands firmly on his knees…

And he does not expect her mouth hot and immediately hollowed around his cock, but he hardly minds as she takes most of it into her mouth in one go and starts sucking with great enthusiasm.

…And he’s still tired.

And faintly shaking, and happily boneless, and helplessly breathless. But then, in a way that is almost divine, she twists her head and flicks her tongue and hollows her cheeks – and he finds himself growing hard again, head thumping back against the pillows as his hands spring down to wind in her absurdly big hair.

She shakes slightly, trying to laugh even with her mouth occupied…

But he doesn’t mind, doesn’t mind as she slips a finger into her mouth alongside his cock – wriggles it there in a way that has his hips shaking and vainly trying to thrust.

And he doesn’t mind, really doesn’t mind as she moves her other hand to his balls – carefully flicks her fingers there as he starts loudly groaning with fingers fisting in the sheets.

And he doesn’t mind, definitely doesn’t mind as she suddenly swallows - deep throating him with a speed and skill that he never imagined but that he absolutely adores.

…Oddly enough, it doesn’t take long after that.

He comes shaking and shuddering and hissing her name again, finds himself actually unable to move (in the best possible way) as she swallows every single bit and slides back up his body – perching over his torso and beaming the moment he manages to open his eyes.

“I love you, that was amazing” …If not to make any sense, as she leans down for a terribly sweet kiss, “I love you, that was amazing. I love you.”

“Aw,” she beams down at him, rolls off until he can comfortably snuggle into her side, “I love you too, hubby.”

“…Wifey?”

“Incredibly sad, Tim.”

“…Ah.”

“Not just saying that.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah.”

It is their wedding day, after all…

You know that leather jacket Tim was wearing in the last episode?

Yeah, Chris likes it. Chris likes it a LOT.

Does he also like Tim being all bossy and takecharge? I BET HE DID.

After a full day of running from fake bulls, eating crab, being covered in fake snow, and the like, Simon's kind of beat; luckily, Edward is there with much needed hugs and snuggles.

While looking for evidence of his rival operatives, Azlo finds Bunny's nearly dead body near some evidence.

Convinced Bunny is the enemy agent he must track, Azlo has Bunny dragged off and give medical treatment.

Once Bunny is awake Azlo uses his best interrogation techniques on a confused and angry Bunny.

Cue them arguing while Azlo drags Bunny across Europe trying to make Bunny crack; Bunny just acts belligerent.

Emotions fly and they have violent hate sex, but continue to travel across Europe.

As time passes they might just start to care for each other.

Has hate sex evolved into a relationship?

WHERE? *head waving* I couldn't find it via Bing search!!

That a good hhhnnnnggg?

http://nothingdandyaboutme.tumblr.com/historicaldocs

Great person, great page, bookmark!!! :D

“Hi. So, what do you-?” He halts, blinks, takes a step back and resists the very passionate urge to screech a soul rending scream from the very depths of his being “…Chris?”

“Hi Tim!” Chris, for it is Chris, chirps. Bouncing up to his feet from his knees… Where he was kneeling. In an obedient way. In an obediently sexual sort of way.

“Ah, Tim,” says the Examiner, tucking himself back in with a smile that could be charming but actually a hair away from outright insanity (as always, really), “Nice to see you! In here for a reason?”

“…You summoned me,” he starts. Very, very slowly – and still a step away from that soul rending scream as he watches a tiny drop of white trail its way down from the side of Chris’ mouth.

“Did he?” Chris’ frowning mouth, Chris’ puzzled mouth like he has any right to be terribly bemused by this whole horrific situation designed only to give the universe a chance to punch him repeatedly in the face, “so that was what the phonecall was about…”

“Yes,” The Examiner nods, smiles at his noise of strangled trauma “…Do you know what I summoned you for, Tim?”

“An attempt to break my sanity completely?”

“I thought I managed that several weeks ago” …He is not looking at Chris’ slightly flushed face, not at all - nope, not for a single moment. Strangled trauma all the way.

“Tim!” Strangled trauma, as he also very firmly does not think about that brief glimpse of the Examiner’s cock and the many uses it’s probably been put to “…I actually think that this is going to be a wonderful surprise for you.”

“Yay.”

“Yay!”

“Yes,” strangled trauma, all the strangled trauma – and not at all thinking about Chris’ mouth on his cock (and he worries for his brain, he really does) or his mouth on the Examiner’s cock (worries) for a single moment. No. Not at all, “Tim, I’ve decided to interfere in your love life. Something needed considering your strange unwillingness to pick up the weak and needy members of society.”

“…Great,” he sighs, feeling nothing but weary tension.

“Isn’t it?” Especially for Chris, even with his eyes all bright and his hair sticking out at odd angles.

“Would you be interested in a threesome?” …Or the Examiner, with that predatory glint and strange shift to his eyes.

…No.

Nothing at all.

And he certainly, certainly isn’t considering it in any way, nope. Not considering what it’d be like to sneak off for quickies at work, not considering what it’d feel like to pin Chris up against a wall in return, not considering how nice the Examiner bending him over that big desk could be-

No.

Not at all!

“…Can I at least bang my head against the wall before we get started?” He asks wearily, already steeling himself for the inevitable.

“Don’t damage yourself!”

“Alright. But don’t damage the wall!”

GRR! Stupid Megaupload doesn't work with my system. :P

Thanks though; if all else fails I'll download it on my next laptop.

Even better news, three of the local libraries have it; ow, if only HH itself was available...

She’s a bit nervous about this.

Which is odd, really, because she’s never nervous about much – she treated the realization of her deep and passionate love for Tim with some timidity, yes, and was maybe the slightest bit nervous when she realized that this was going to be a long term thing and did get a few butterflies the day before their wedding… But apart from that?

Nope, nothing.

Not even when she decided to lose her virginity (and what a disappointment that was), not even when she went to university (also a bit of a disappointment – though with nice medical students), not even when she brought her own house (disappointment central, until she realized the many positives of her stairs) – nervousness has never really been a part of her life, never really been a lurking figure at the door, never really seethed in her stomach for endless nights as she coiled in a helpless pile of loathing-

…And now she’s babbling.

Great.

Tim finishes his third cup (as ever, the dear morning loathing boy) as she just plays with her cereal. Gives her a bright smile as he rises to his feet and tucks his jacket around him “…It really is a bother having to go into work on a Saturday.”

“Oh well,” she says, and her tone is falsely bright – and still a little bit babbly, “you did take Monday off.”

“And Tuesday.”

“And Wednesday.”

“And almost Thursday, thanks to that sex marathon that you dragged me into,” he smiles fondly, leans over and presses a peck against her lips as she… Continues to play with her cereal like a cool person, yes, “I’ll try to get back early, alright?”

“Alright.”

“…For more sex?”

“If you want.”

…And he frowns at her. For, in all the four years of their relationship and steadily counting as long as time ticks on, she has never sounded so unenthusiastic about sex.

But, eventually and at the prompting of her high-speed nod and smile, he beams again and turns on his heel – waltzing for the front door in the happy, bouncy way of a man largely content with his life now that it’s stopped regularly punching him in the face and has occasionally started handing him breast shaped pies.

…And she hates to start the punching again, she really does.

But she can’t just let him go on unknowingly until the nine months are up – for she’s a cruel and happy bitch, but she’s not that terribly horrible.

“Tim!”

He’s paused by the door, as she jogs gently out of the kitchen, turning around to face her with a faint frown on his face and his hand on the doorknob (and she would make a joke, but she’s pretty sure that it wouldn’t help the situation), “Chris?”

“…Tim,” well, that was intelligent.

“Chris,” and terribly good at assuaging worry, as he turns fully away from the door and starts properly frowning – that adorable forehead-crinkly thing that he only gives when something actually insane is going on and he actually has reason to be nervous about it, “are you alright?”

“…Sort of.”

“I know I asked this morning, when I came down to find that you’d built a tower out of all the cereal, but…”

“I’m alright,” she gulps, licks her lips – for she is alright, really alright. Apart from every single bit of her being consumed with feelings that have never been felt before (because she isn’t a nervous person, really – or wasn’t before late last night and nearly falling into the shower in shock) “…Well, pretty alright. Depending on your definition of alright. If I was married to the heir to the British throne he’d probably be pretty pleased.”

“…William?”

“Descended from Charles II, don’t you know?”

“…No,” and she is so good at assuaging worry. As he stares at her, and frowns at her – and guides her slowly over to the stairs like she’s being all babbly again, “Chris, you aren’t alright.”

“Charming,” she manages, just resisting the urge to just sink down and let the feelings overtake her (she didn’t do it in the bathroom, she won’t trouble the hall).

“Yes, fine. Tell me what’s wrong?”

(…She didn’t do it in the bathroom, she won’t trouble the hall.)

(She didn’t do it in the bathroom, she won’t trouble the hall.)

…She can do this.

She can do this.

“Tim” …She can probably do this.

“Chris?”

…Now or never. Or now or in about nine months, when the little brat comes popping out and scares everybody else to death.

“So,” which would be a bad option, really, for as much as she trusts her hips she would prefer to have a lot of drugs when pushing a watermelon out of her vagina, “about a month and a half ago I must’ve missed a pill. Last night, in a foolish and charming way, I took a pregnancy test to confirm this.”

He stares at her.

“…We’re having a baby.”

He stares at her.

“…Have fun at work!”

Stares-

Flops down to the stairs at her feet, actually, suddenly resembling a goldfish who had just learned of the roundness of the earth (except without the three month forgetting thing. Which, admittedly, wouldn’t have been all that useful) “…I’m going to be a father again.”

“I know,” she nods, and honestly isn’t sure whether to be terrified or strangely excited, “I’m going to be a mother for the first time.”

“Fifteen years after the last one,” he marvels, but reaches out a hand to soothingly stroke her ankle in a way that does rather make up for it “…Marcus is going to have a sibling. I wonder what his face will be like.”

“Not as good as Judith’s,” she mutters, and is surprised to find herself feeling a brief burst of glee at that (positive feelings… Wow, hey, she actually has a lot of positive feelings), “or Paula’s.”

“At least Philip will be pleased,” Tim muses in a rather stunned voice, finally looks up at her again and… Attempts a smile. A faint yet happy yet shaky yet absolutely over the moon sort of thing, “and Caitlin, and the Examiner, and probably your parents now that I think of it.”

“And my grandparents,” she… Actually beams, actually beams with a glorious sort of thrill that feels good and wonderful and a little like eating cotton candy while riding a unicorn (she thinks, she’d certainly be a little overjoyed if she was riding a unicorn), “their only great grandchild, none of my cousins have actually been cooperative and sexual yet.”

“A pity.”

“Not for the one with a dead badger in his shop.”

Tim looks faintly disturbed, which shows how well he knows her, for only a second… And then slowly rises to his feet again, leans over to press a fond kiss against her lips when she manages a slightly shakier beam up at him, “are you alright with this?”

…And she considers, for a long moment.

And she muses, for another long moment.

And she thinks and she compares and she remembers and she goes off on slightly strange tangents and she slowly starts to nod her head…

“I’ll get bigger boobs, right?”

And he smiles again, taking that for the answer that it is and really reminding her why she started sleeping with him and fell in love with him and sprung a marriage on him and got preggers with him, and leans in for another kiss – one so happy that she just has to arch into it and try to inappropriately grope him “…You know, I think I’ll call in sick today.”

“Can you do that?” She asks with an arched eyebrow, already trying her very hardest to wrap her thighs around his hips.

“Well, I am a married spy who’s about to be a father…”

Fair enough.

…And she’s hardly going to object to more slightly tentative sex on the stairs, even if it does lead to a quick scramble and a slightly hyperactive yelling of news when Judith and Marcus barge in through the door.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 7 of 8

What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

UNPROMPTED: Sitting Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [3/5]

UNPROMPTED: Sitting Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [4/5]

UNPROMPTED: Sitting Sunday, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [5/5]

Re: UNPROMPTED: Monday Moving, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2/2]

Re: UNPROMPTED: This Friday Night, Female!Chris/Tim, R [2B/2]

UNPROMPTED: Tuesday Mounting, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1/2]

UNPROMPTED: Tuesday Mounting, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2/2]

[Spy] Tim/Chris, car!sex

[Spy] Tim/Chris, comfort!sex

Re: [Bunny and The Bull] Bunny/Stephen

UNPROMPTED: Who Gets Married on a Thursday?, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1A/2]

UNPROMPTED: Who Gets Married on a Thursday?, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1B/2]

UNPROMPTED: Who Gets Married on a Thursday?, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2A/2]

UNPROMPTED: Who Gets Married on a Thursday?, Female!Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2B/2]

[Spy] Chris/Tim, leather

Re: [Spy] Chris/Tim, leather

[RPF] Edward Hogg/Simon Farnaby snuggles, crushes, playing with hair

[Crossover -Armstrong and Miller/Bunny and the Bull] AU-ish Azlo/Bunny violence, smacking, hate sex

Re: [Bunny and The Bull] Bunny/Stephen

Re: [Bunny and The Bull] Bunny/Stephen

FILL: Don't Damage the Wall, Examiner/Chris (With a bit of Examiner/Chris/Tim at the end), PG-13

Re: [Bunny and The Bull] Bunny/Stephen

UNPROMPTED: Happy Saturday, Female!Chris/Tim, PG-13 [1/3] [Spy]

UNPROMPTED: Happy Saturday, Female!Chris/Tim, PG-13 [2/3] [Spy]

UNPROMPTED: Happy Saturday, Female!Chris/Tim, PG-13 [3/3] [Spy]