Theo stayed long enough for him to fall into a deep sleep before finally kissing his brow and slipping out of bed. All his own personals were collected and double checked that no article of clothing was abandoned and forgotten before he finally slipped out and closed the door. Per Fletcher's instructions he bathed and buried his clothes in the hamper. A quick note was written with utmost care and slipped under the man's door. It was as close to a love note as Theo could safely get and he wished he could do more.

But, with his bedroom door quietly unlocked and the moon well high in the sky he too finally crawled into bed with an exhausted yawn. The bed felt so large and cold now that he was alone. It felt like a vast ocean in comparison to being cuddled up so close in Fletcher's arms. He wanted nothing more than to think on all that had happened that evening but the moment his head hit the pillow, he was a goner.

He did not even wake when Fletcher came barreling into his room, a thought that had he known, would have terrified him. But when he did wake it was to the weak sun upon his face and an empty bed. Theo lingered there until the maids came in to make his bed and were startled to find him still in it. He had to take the time to reassure them that all was well and just a lazy morning for him.

But their expressions were those of knowing fondness and they kept their thoughts to themselves that the Young Master was taking some time for himself for once. Once they finally left, he dragged himself from bed and looked over his clothes for the day.

Normally it would matter little to him but he recalled how Fletcher had mentioned he liked how he looked all dressed up fancy for the ball and wanted to be more intentional with his choices. With Edwina coming, he had the perfect excuse to impress as it were. Pity for her that it wasn't her he was trying to woo however.

Theo settled on a red robe set with gold embroidery embellishments and a black silky sash. He preened in the mirror some adjusting his hair this way and that before giving up with a disappointed sigh. Fletcher knew what he looked like. What was the point of trying to be something he wasn't? His misbehaving bangs were just going to fall forward anyway.

And while he did forego the paints and powders he had been strong-armed into wearing for the ball he did dab a bit of cologne oil just below his ears and on his wrists. He smiled back at his reflection, recalling the kisses his beloved had placed there as well as their own secret little discovery. He wondered how long they could both be kept at bay before his face was buried there once more.

Theo exited his room and nodded in greeting to the pair waiting for him there. "Mr. Daw, Mr. Truckett. Good morning. As I am running a bit late this morning, Lady Obower will be meeting us in the piano room this morning. Mr. Truckett if you could see that the kitchen is made aware of this and had some trays made up, I would be most grateful. It's quite alright for you to wait for them to be ready. There's no need for you to have to run back and forth so early in the day," he smiled gently to the other man. 

"No," he mumbled. "Don't leave now. Just...just a few more minutes. Waited too long to get here...you gorgeous, gorgeous thing."

And then he was out, sinking into a warm, soft place that smelled of Theo. It was quiet there. It was peaceful. There were no dreams that night, just that fuzzy feeling of being wrapped up in the presence of the man he'd wanted for so long. Even when he awoke to a cold bed and an empty place beside him, he did so with the remnants of a smile, and that smile broadened into a satisfied smirk as he recalled all that had happened.

He reached out and touched the spot where Theo had lain, fingers gliding across the sheets as though he caressed the man's skin. He wondered what it would be like, now, to spend his daylight hours pretending that they weren't meeting in secret in the dark. Somehow, he thought it might actually be easier than pining away unrequited. As he'd told Theo: if he knew he could come back to this feeling every night, he might just be able to accomplish anything.

"Up. Up. I'm up," he mumbled to himself, breathing deep and rolling over and planting his bare feet on the cold floor. He stood, aching and trembling, his first order of business a shameful one. After the whiskey, he pulled on his shirt from the day before, shoved his feet in his boots, and collected his things for a smoke and a wash up. He paused by the door, eyeing the one between his room and Theo's, sorely tempted to do what he knew he shouldn't at this hour.

And then he saw it: a note. A short note. Theo's perfect, careful handwriting. Words rang hollow in his tired mind: I'm sorry. Take care of the dog. "No. No no no. No no no — "

Without reading it, he unlatched the nanny door and burst into silence and the pale light of a dreary winter morning. He was halfway to Theo's bed before the man shifted and muttered in his sleep. Alive. He was alive. He was fine. The breath that had caught in Fletcher's chest left him. He took another as though breathing in the sight of the nobleman would steady him again. He lingered — longer than he should have, but he did it anyway, indulging in the knowledge that Theo was safe and warm and content. At last, he nodded to himself and stepped back into his own room, closing the door firmly. He picked up the note, eye tracing every loop and line and dot.

"Morning!
Reminder we have Edwina coming today and you have training Neal. Please see that he is on his best behavior."

Theo had left a thumbprint at the bottom as a signature. Fletch smirked at it. The man had been careful not to give a single thing away in what he'd written, but that thumbprint couldn't have read more like a heart if he'd tried. But...he was right. Today was tactical. Today was the start of an operation. He had to wrest his mind away from where they'd been last night, and Theo did, too. "Okay, Pretty Boy," he said to the paper. "Message received. Let's do this."

An hour later, with Niles swapped in to guard Theo, Fletch had bathed and changed and downed his coffee and his pasty with a startling new exuberance for life. As he strode down the hall to meet Neal, he caught sight of his reflection in an oversized mirror. The man who'd glanced back at him in passing was one he'd not truly seen in years: confident, sharp-eyed, and cocky as hell. A rogue, some might call him. A heartbreaker and a rake. But what he saw in it was something else entirely:

Heart and soul, he was Theo's bastard man.

"It is but so is everything we have done and everything we have agreed to do. They are risks I'm willing to take for our happiness. But, if you're that worried I can leave now?"

Theo smiled at him softly. Who would have thought he would ever have the scowling smuggler turned bodyguard curled up in his arms like a cat? He loved this man so much. It still didn't feel real that they were to be lovers, that he was wanted as much as he wanted the other man back. 

"Mine," he agreed giving the other man a warm squeeze. "And completely yours."

He made a soft sound of sympathy and leaned in to kiss his brow. "I will be just next door when you wake. And you can come in as soon as you're awake to check as many times as you need to. I'm not going anywhere. Another promise to you."

"'S dangerous. You sure?" he purred, but already he struggled to keep his eye open. Whether or not Theo could do it, he was right on one thing: Fletch couldn't stay up any longer if he tried. "No. You're...you're right. Mm. Theo. Don't forget. Unlock your door. N' clean up before bed'r you'll smell like me tomorrow. N'...call it whatever you like. M' yours."

As he sunk further and further into his pillow, one last thought ran through his mind. The cabin. A quiet winter morning. Waking up to the end of everything. He shut his eye tighter. "Just...don't like the thought of waking up alone. But...maybe it's different this time."

"Then sleep, my heart," he replied continuing to pet him as the tension of Fletcher backing off eased. "Let me be the one to watch over you for once. I'll get back to bed before it's too late and we'll have tomorrow and the next day and all the days after. You cannot break yourself to steal more hours in the day just because you managed to acquire yourself a—what would we call ourselves?"

He saw a man pushed to his limits like was so often done to him, and he stopped. There was no sense in throwing it all at Theo at once. They had time, and when he was ready, they could explore what this meant. But he wasn't out to make him the same raw, beaten, sobbing wretch that he'd just been. Not over something this miraculous. "Could say the same to you," he replied, reaching to wipe Theo's tears away yet again. "Tonight's made us both a mess, hasn't it?"

His hand fell back to the bed. Eye half-closed, his catlike grin returned at the scratch of delicate fingers through his hair. "Love," he mumbled. "You're going to send me to sleep again, spoiling me with this. You...you've got to help me stay awake, not the opposite."

"Oh the most squeaky actually. Just like how I recall mice were, all high-pitched, quiet, and cute," he teased. The more Fletcher spoke though of hopefulness, the more unsure Theo looked. His lips narrowed into a small pursed mouth and the tears that had misted at the corners of his eyes actually fell.

"I don't know," he spoke choked up with them. "I never knew to try. I feel so stupid for never having done this before. You beautiful, brilliant man," he murmured combing his fingers through Fletcher's hair again. "How do you always find all the ways burrow into my soul like this? I don't think I've cried so much in all my life," he laughed softly trying to scrub at his cheeks. 

"'S good. Now you know for a fact that I'm not some awful squeaky git. Just a bastard man." Fletch beamed at Theo, content to let him work through the revelation now that it involved a little less physical intensity. "Just told you about the prison dots, that was all. Since you asked. And it was all I could think of, n'..."

An idea struck him. It was stupid of him to ask. Theo would know it already for himself, probably, and he didn't want to get the man's hopes up and then dash them, but... "Wonder if you can hear singing. Or humming. Music, you know. Since it's...since it's where you go sometimes to work things out."

Theo flushed and giggled back. "It seemed right in the moment. You went and did what you wanted so so did I." He rubbed noses with the other man, much sweeter and calmer now that he had his breath back and the initial wave of realization had passed.

"I'm sorry for startling you though. I—you—what did you say actually? I...," he misted up slightly and sucked his lips in as he tried to recenter himself before continuing. "I can't understand anymore." Then in a barely audible whisper he added, "I heard your voice."

"Theo? Hey. Stay with me, love. Where've you gone? What's — mmf — "

Theo interrupted him mid-sentence, pulling Fletcher in with the kind of torrid fervency that he himself had held back from earlier. It was the last thing he'd expected. He'd thought there'd be crying and holding. Joy, maybe, and relief. But with the weight of grief still lingering and his tears still staining his cheeks and the taste of sour whiskey fresh on his tongue, he wasn't entirely ready for the degree of Theo's passion. He returned the man's kisses with careful ones, allowing him this moment but too concerned and preoccupied to take it any further.

This felt like the market, he realized. This was Theo on a high. He wasn't sure how to feel about that when it struck so many dangerous chords from the past, even if it came from a place of so much elation. When the nobleman was done, Fletcher held him close and allowed him to rest there against his brow. He did begin to chuckle, though, as what he'd been called caught up with him.

"Bastard man?"