"So beautiful," Ian murmured as he sroked the errant bang from his friend's face. "You really are, you know."
"You've had too much wine." Barbara Wright was nothing if not practical, even though her wine consumption had been no less...enthusiastic than Ian's. She caught his fingers, laughing as he struggled slightly against her grip. "You're drunk, my friend."
"And you're beautiful. One fact does not negate the other one, Miss Wright."
The moons of this planet were rising, casting conflicting glimmers of light across the couple as they sat together on the veranda outside the chateau. The music wafted on the warm summer air, an intriguing waltz, complex and unexpected. They'd danced, too. Just the two of them, out here, away from the crowds.
"History often proves that where facts conflict, neither tends to prove completely true."
"So, I've not had too much wine?"
"And I'm not beautiful."
He leaned over, brushing his lips across her chin, barely touching her skin. "You're not beautiful," he agreed. "It was a foolish understatement. You're glorious."
Barbara smiled at her friend, knowing that sooner or later the wine and the moonlight and the music would be a memory, and still enjoying the moment as it unfolded. "You're an idiot, Mr. Chesterton," she whispered, and kissed him gently.
Chrissie/Alan, Sarah Jane/Mr. Grantham, Jo/Jeremy Fitzoliver
Barbara/Ian
"So beautiful," Ian murmured as he sroked the errant bang from his friend's face. "You really are, you know."
"You've had too much wine." Barbara Wright was nothing if not practical, even though her wine consumption had been no less...enthusiastic than Ian's. She caught his fingers, laughing as he struggled slightly against her grip. "You're drunk, my friend."
"And you're beautiful. One fact does not negate the other one, Miss Wright."
The moons of this planet were rising, casting conflicting glimmers of light across the couple as they sat together on the veranda outside the chateau. The music wafted on the warm summer air, an intriguing waltz, complex and unexpected. They'd danced, too. Just the two of them, out here, away from the crowds.
"History often proves that where facts conflict, neither tends to prove completely true."
"So, I've not had too much wine?"
"And I'm not beautiful."
He leaned over, brushing his lips across her chin, barely touching her skin. "You're not beautiful," he agreed. "It was a foolish understatement. You're glorious."
Barbara smiled at her friend, knowing that sooner or later the wine and the moonlight and the music would be a memory, and still enjoying the moment as it unfolded. "You're an idiot, Mr. Chesterton," she whispered, and kissed him gently.
Chrissie/Alan, Sarah Jane/Mr. Grantham, Jo/Jeremy Fitzoliver