It was very late at night when Raphael got home, he was half expecting everyone to be asleep but when he stepped into the foyer, he saw Sylvie sitting on the bottom of the steps, her head resting on the railing. Her eyes flickered open as she heard his footsteps approach, and Rafe felt a frisson of delight knowing that she was waiting for him to return.

He had sent word that all was safe and that he'd explain more once he returned.

"Raphael!" She cried out, running forward, her arms extended. Rafe caught her around the waist and basically plastered her to himself. He stifled a grunt of pain as she collided with his sore, beaten body with a muffled sob. He held her tight, squeezing her as hard as his throbbing body allowed, and wasn't entirely sure which one of the two of them was trembling. "You look a fright!"

Truth be told, he looked much better than he had when he had arrived at the Major's office. He was sporting a nasty bruise on his cheek, a few gashes here and there, and his knuckles were split, but the worst of it had been patched up.

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, stroking her cheeks. "Everything will be just fine."

"Let me run you a bath and you can tell me everything," she said, twining their hands and leading him away to his room.

A while later he lay in blissfully hot water as his woman tended to him gently. She had gotten some snow from outside and had bundled it up in some cloth and was pressing it lovingly to his cheek as she made a fuss over him. Rafe enjoyed it a touch too much, her obvious distress at him being hurt. She had gasped so loud when she had seen the purple and black decorating his stomach and sides before she looked at him and asked him if he had done more damage. His head and shoulders had been massaged, his back had been tenderly soaped, and his hair had been adoringly washed.

Rafe imagined this is what those fat cats felt like as they lolled about in the sun after eating kitchen scraps, dozing off. Spoilt and content.

Rafe perhaps had exaggerated the account of his victory to salvage his pride. He didn't need her to know that he'd been forced into a corner. All's well that ends well, as they said. She had stared at him with such obvious adoration that he had not let his conscience have much of a say. She had gasped and cooed over him, riveted to each word as he told her that The Viper had confessed to doing it and that The Major had asked Rafe to allow him to overtake the interrogation, a request Rafe had deferred to as the man had a much larger bone to pick with his former protégé. Though, that was not to say that Rafe wouldn't be in on some of the less savory aspects of the interrogation. The Widow always had a soft spot for The Viper and Rafe wasn't altogether too sure that she had it in her to turn her particular skillset on him. Which was why Rafe was more than happy to step in in her stead.

He'd show the bastard what he'd learned

He felt her lips at his knuckles and he winced once she replaced them with a cloth soaked in tonic and then bandaged his bruises. He watched her work with half-lidded eyes, enjoying her single-minded attention.

"I can't believe it's over," she said with a wistful sigh. "I hope Thomas is resting easy now."

"It is," he agreed, sighing happily as she pressed the cloth of ice against his face. As a matter of fact, even he could not believe it. The shadow he had been chasing for eight years had finally been caught, and while he did not have all the answers just yet, he was going to enjoy extracting them all. It was strange, to say the least. It had been a constant companion, and now that the hunt was over, Rafe wasn't entirely sure how to move on.

"And I have two entire weeks before my interview!"

Rafe's eyes snapped open at that, his lazy contentment snuffed at the reminder that she was right.....It was over.

Thomas' killer had been caught, she and Jane were no longer in danger. There was no one coming for them. Sylvie could go back to her life in Carlisle and try for the headmistress post.

They had no more reason to stay together. There was nothing keeping her in his proximity.

In fact, The Major had just offered him a lucrative assignment in Italy, one that would likely span the next year.

A post that not only would make him prominent to the higher ups in The Home Office, but in the palace as well. Connections and favors he could cultivate for his amusement and benefit. He shouldn't even hesitate to take it.

"We shall have to leave in the next few days just to be safe," she chattered away excitedly as Rafe closed his eyes before she saw his sour expression. "Oh Raphael, I can scarcely believe it! We've been so careful for so long."

Why was she speaking about them parting so easily? And why the devil did she assume that it would be she who left him? Raphael was besieged by the same panic he had felt when he had learned that she planned on taking that scholar for a lover. What the devil was wrong with him?!

He had plans too. He had things he was looking forward to, too. How dare she act so nonplussed by their impending separation?

He cracked his eyes open, but he found his irritation melting away as he saw her fussing over him with her eyebrows crinkled, the glass of her spectacles foggy because of the steam from the bath.

They didn't have to part, not yet anyway. He had several months before he needed to be in Italy, no reason he couldn't spend them in Carlisle with her. He didn't want to think about them parting ways just yet, it turned his good mood sour for no reason whatsoever. And what was more, he didn't need to think about it. Not when it wouldn't be a reality for several months yet.

Still, the strange anxiety would not leave him, a vice squeezing his chest.

He needed a distraction. He did not like feeling this way when he could not even identify the cause of it. He needed to do something to lift his spirits immediately. Indeed, he had just taken down his opponent, he had come out as the victor, he ought not to be feeling so damn low!

When Sylvie pressed the cold cloth against his cheek once more he let out a dramatic groan.

"Oh, Sylvie, I am in so much pain," he said mournfully as she yelped in surprise.

"Was it something I did?" She cried out, immediately removing the cloth. "How can I help?"

"Oh, Sylvie, I am afraid only one thing can help," he forced his face into a sincere expression.

"Yes?" She looked so worried that Rafe could have kissed her right there. "What is it? I'll get it for you right now."

"I fear that the only thing you can do right now is...." He paused for dramatic effect. "... take off your robe and join me in my bath. As promptly as you can. It might be fatal if it's not treated immediately."

He flexed his hips meaningfully, drawing her attention to parts of him that were more than up to their task. She made a sound of horror, called him a wretched, awful man, and then pressed the cloth back to his cheek, much less tenderly than before.

"You are cruel to deny me," he pouted at her. "I could have died, you know? I need to reaffirm the fact that I am living with a good bout of lovemaking with a beautiful woman."

"It boggles the mind that you are even capable of thinking of...that!" She snapped at him, moodily applying some salve to his split lip.

"That is never far from my mind when you are around, Sylvie," he told her happily, tapping his bruised cheek where she obediently, albeit sulkily deposited a kiss.

"You can barely even move with all these bruises!" She protested even as she obliged him when he pulled her in for a languid, meaningful kiss. Her face was a little warmer when he finally let her go. "Just look at the state of you!"

"I won't need to move if you get on top," he suggested cheekily. "I'll simply lie there like a dead fish. I swear it on my honor."

"Well.....I suppose that is acceptable," she paused thoughtfully. "Though maybe you could use your hands and that ought not to be too objectionable."

She rode him gently, a new sort of intensity in their lovemaking, as if they were both aware of how close they had come to losing each other forever. He could not bring himself to speak his usual filthy words that drove her wild, he could only stare at her as she loved him with her body, silent save for the sound of the water in the tub sluicing around as they moved and their intermingled breathing. They looked only at each other, feeling so connected that Rafe wanted to savor that feeling for as long as he lived. When she came apart, he was seized with the mad urge to hold her down and release deep inside her so that no part of her was left untouched by him.

And while he knew that he would never be so careless, and that doing something that foolish would mean that he might have to tie himself to her for his whole life, he pulled himself from her body only just moments before he found his completion. He blamed his strange impulse on the fact that he had nearly died today and his most primal instincts had risen to the surface. There was, after all, no claim more potent that a man could make upon a woman than that, to give her his seed with no barriers between them. And from the very start he had been far too concerned with laying his claim to her, he was just a little barbaric when it came to her that was all.

There. That was just it, nothing to worry about.

"Thank you, Raphael," she panted in the aftermath as he ran a soothing hand up and down her back. He still could not dispel the feeling that he wished to hear something else and that she was withholding it from him. And yet, in all these weeks of being together, he had not been able to puzzle it out.

"Thank you, Sylvie," he kissed her forehead, wracking his brain for what it could possibly be.

"By the by," he said conversationally as her read lolled about on his shoulder. "I never told you why I came looking for you."

"Mhmmmm," she mumbled sleepily.

"I want you to pack an overnight case for yourself and Jane, we're taking an excursion tomorrow."

Her head shot up.

"Tomorrow?" She asked suspiciously.

"Yes, I do believe there's a particularly special occasion. One that Jane has been excited about for weeks."

"I know what tomorrow is," she said with a small smile, the tips of her ears a touch dark.

They both knew; it was the day she would turn thirty.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I am merely taking Jane on an outing, it has nothing to do with you."

"Just...don't make too much of a fuss," she said shyly.

"But I like making a fuss over you," he answered honestly and had the pleasure of watching her blush in delight. She mumbled something under her breath and then wrapped herself around him, burying her face in his neck. They stayed like that until the water had grown unbearably cold. They rose and Rafe let her fuss over him some more as she dried him off with a towel in tender motions, avoiding his cuts and bruises as best as she could. When she made to return to her chambers, he halted her and asked her to bring Jane over and sleep with him for tonight.

"Jane will ask questions," she warned him.

"I want you both close," he confessed gently. "We'll think up an adequate explanation."

She looked at him with such large eyes full of emotions he could not name, before throwing her arms around him again and then running off to comply.

When both she and Jane were tucked into his sides, sleeping soundly, he pressed kisses to both of their heads. He put a protective arm around Jane.

"I will always keep you safe," he promised quietly.