Disclaimer: I own nothing, and only borrowed these characters for a little while.


Sabrina sat comfortably on the lap of Linus Larrabee, her arms wrapped around his neck. Linus maintained a firm grip on his young wife.

"Do you know what today is?" Sabrina asked of her husband.

Linus pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Enlighten me."

She pressed her own lips to his briefly before replying with a smile. "It is la Saint Valentin – the day of love. L'amour."

Linus slipped his warm hand up Sabrina's back as he urged her closer. "Also known as Valentine's Day here in the States," he murmured against her lips.

A most pleasant distraction passed before they were interrupted by a cough. Parting, both were slightly breathless as they turned as one to the noise.

Linus' secretary stood in the doorway. "If you will excuse me sir, I am off for the night."

"Good night," dismissed Linus before Sabrina piped up with her own farewell. "Good evening."

Miss McCardle departed, Linus looked to return to his previous activities but Sabrina had other things in mind. "Come!" she exclaimed as she slipped from his lap. "Let us celebrate."

Linus was less inclined to move. "Celebrate what?" he queried as her fingers slipped from his.

"Love!" suggested Sabrina giddily as she twirled in the middle of her husband's office.

Standing still once again, her arms thrown out, she found that her husband had moved after all.

Linus placed his hands on his wife's hips and tugged her closer to him. "You make me happy," he said sombrely. "It is a celebration of love for me every day."

Sabrina threw her arms around his neck and leaned in. The kiss was supposed to be a tease, but developed into a longer, more passionate enterprise.

Nevertheless, the young woman was still determined when they parted. "Come," Sabrina chided, a little breathless. "Let us go."

Linus allowed himself to be led from the room, gathering up various coats and accessories enroute.

Oh, the things you do for love.

Later, much later, Linus Larrabee showed his wife the other things for love he was particularly good at when they were at last alone and the lights were low.


Finito.