Disclaimer: Harry Potter and canon characters and situations do not belong to me. This is merely a for-fun work.
Prompts: Fred's pants, anniversary, ran
Pairings: Fred/Susan
A/N: This is a re-write of the anniversary fic I wrote a while ago for the lovely Bedelia.

And what's romance? Usually a nice little tale where you have everything as you like it, where rain never wets your jacket and gnats never bite your nose, and it's always daisy-time. - DH Lawrence

Susan couldn't remember how many of these things she had attended in the past five years. They all seemed to blend together. Not that she minded, of course. She loved all the Weasleys dearly, but there were just so many birthdays to celebrate and after a while, they all got…tedious. Was it really necessary to throw such extravagant celebrations for family members they barely knew?

Well, she supposed Harry's birthday was a given to celebrate, but he was only turning 25. She didn't do anything special for her 25th birthday. If she remembered correctly, she and Fred had the flat all to themselves, so they warmed themselves in front of the fire all day from the icy chill outside. She smiled fondly, wishing it was still winter. She never could stand the heat of the summer.

There were so many people crammed into the Burrow's back yard, it was a wonder anyone had room to breathe. She hardly knew anyone aside from the Weasleys and a few others, but she smiled at a familiar face as she approached him.

"Hi George," she said as she sidled up next to him. He was standing by himself, watching as Harry told a very animated story to young Teddy Lupin.

He looked down at her, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He tilted his head sideways and pointed to her as he cocked his head to the side in thought. "Have we met before?" he asked. He scratched his head.

Susan let out a snort. "Of course we've met, George Weasley. I've been married to your brother for two years. I live with you."

"Oh!" he breathed loudly, as if it had all suddenly come to him. He nodded slowly. "Susan! Sorry," he said with a wink. " You're just so quiet. I keep forgetting you're married to Fred. It's really hard to keep track of your sisters-in-law when you have about half a million. I don't understand how my mother managed to have seven of us." He let out a disgusted shudder, shrinking his shoulder blades into his spine. "I'm so glad I don't have the right anatomy to push out babies. I couldn't possibly understand why a woman would want to go through all that torture."

George furrowed his brow again and gave her a suspicious sidelong glance. "You're not planning on having kids anytime soon, are you? I don't think I could stand to live with you and all those…hormones. No offense," he added quickly when her eyebrows shot up. "I mean, you're so quiet, so I doubt you'd become a pain in the arse. You'll probably be one of those quiet pregnant women who throw up once and quietly work on your knitting for nine months."

Several years of living with the twins taught her how to handle their jokes. She simply smiled and rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law.

"Thanks, George. I think. But no, we're not planning on having children any time soon. Don't worry. Besides, why would we have a kid when we already have one?" she asked with the slightest smirk. She poked his arm teasingly and looked up at him with raised, suggestive eyebrows.

He let out a bark of laughter and beamed proudly at her. "I knew Fred married you for a reason. He kept telling me it was because of your tits, but I knew you had something special about you."

She grinned. "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."

"Oh, I don't doubt it!" he replied earnestly with a nod of his head. "I don't suppose we could go somewhere, err, more private to test out that little theory?"

"George!" Susan chided, delivering a slap to his arm. "You are incorrigible! It would be just like you to flirt with your own twin brother's wife!"

George merely grinned at her. "You've been learning big words from Hermione, haven't you?" he teased.

Susan pressed her lips together, trying to appear unimpressed. "I am so glad I didn't marry you," she replied flatly.

"Hey," he said, shrugging his shoulders boyishly. "It could've been me you went after with your whole nosebleed fiasco. But nooo, you had to go to my brother. I fancied you, y'know," he added with a sad expression.

Susan smiled at him. Nine years later, she remembered that day all too well.


"Um, George…Weasley?"

The stocky red-headed man in the bright pink magenta robes turned around, his eyebrows lifted in what she guessed was amusement.

"It's Fred, actually," he replied. His smile quickly vanished when he saw she was holding a handkerchief to her bloody nose.

"What happened?" he asked. "Nosebleed Nougat?"

She nodded solemnly, her eyes shining with the tears she refused to shed. "I lost the half that's supposed to reverse it."

Fred grimaced and nodded in understanding. "Come on, then," he said, gently tugging her by the elbow away from the bustling crowds of customers. "Let's get you in the back room and get you cleaned up and fixed, yeah?"

She could do nothing else but agree and let him pull her away from the empty space where Justin and Hannah had just vacated. Prats. They agreed not to separate!

The twins' back room was very disorganized, with boxes upon boxes of products that had yet to be put away on still empty shelves. He helped her sit down on a pile of boxes — she winced when she heard something squeak inside — and told her to keep pinching her nose while he searched for the appropriate candy to stop the bleeding.

"So, did George send you?" he asked.

Susan looked at him in confusion and was greeted with a sight of his arse. She tilted her head to the side, musing to herself on what a nice arse it was, too. She quickly snapped out of it, mentally scolding herself for ogling him.

"Tell me to do what?" she asked, not knowing what he was talking about.

Fred straightened and turned to look at her.

"Oh, come on," he said, lifting his eyebrows in suspicion. "You 'lost' the purple candy to reverse the bleeding?" Sighing, he shook his head. "I don't really blame you for trying, though. I know I'm irresistible."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, confused.

"George asked you to do this," he repeated as he continued to hunt for the box of Nosebleed Nougats. "He seems to think it's funny that I've been having a bit of a dry spell lately, so he decided to send you after me as the damsel in distress." He straightened and looked at her again, shooting her a wink. "I must say, it's kinda working. And I'm sure behind that bloody nose of yours, you're very cute."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about," she said, shaking her head.

Fred gaped at her. "You mean, George didn't send you to flirt with me?"

"No," Susan replied, still feeling a little confused. He continued to look at her as he contemplated this. "Aren't you looking for the candy?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows. She wasn't fond of the feeling of blood gushing from her nose.

"Oh. Yeah. Right," he muttered before quickly resuming his search. A few minutes later, he let out a triumphant shout and pulled out some Nosebleed Nougat. He took the purple portion of the candy and handed it to her. "The bleeding should stop immediately."

Susan nodded and quickly ate the candy, relief washing over her as the bleeding stopped instantly. She took the handkerchief away from her face and smiled gratefully at him.

"Thanks," she said.

"Yeesh," he said, retracting slightly from her. He scrunched up his face and pulled out his wand. "Here, let me clean you up a bit here." He muttered a mild cleaning charm and smiled as the blood on her face vanished. "There. Much better. Not that you weren't good looking before," he added quickly. "But…y'know…blood isn't exactly a deal breaker. Good thing I'm not a vampire, or else I'd be having you for lunch. But then again, I don't have to be a vampire to have you for lunch."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Susan lifted her own eyebrows at his comment. "Oh, is that so?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Of course it is," he replied with a smug smile. "You should obviously go out with me to pay me back."

"I don't think so," she replied nervously. A blush slowly spread over her cheeks.

He grinned at her. "You know, you're awfully cute when you blush."

This only caused her blush to deepen. "You're only flirting with me because I'm a damsel in distress," she said.

"Ah, so you admit it!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "George did tell you to do this."

"N-no! Of course not!" she replied. "Justin gave me the nougat and told me it was completely safe. Prat," she added under her breath with a scowl.



"Is he your boyfriend?"

Snorting, she shook her head. "No, but he's about to be my ex-friend for ditching me."

"Well, let me take you out to make it up to you," Fred urged. "Might as well make a new friend if you're about to lose another." Feeling daring, he rested a hand on her shoulder. His mouth twitched when she didn't shy away.

"I don't know," she replied reluctantly. "I don't really know you."

"What's to know? We're both good looking. I'm funny, and you're my damsel in distress. We're completely and utterly compatible!"

"You are incorrigible," she replied, rolling her eyes. She stood from the boxes and slipped out of his grip. "I'll tell you what," she said as she made her way towards the door. She wanted to find Justin and Hannah and give them a piece of her mind…or possibly thank them. "Once I get settled in Hogwarts, I'll floo call you and let you know when I'll be in Hogsmeade Village, okay?"

She nervously bit her bottom lip as she backed up towards the door, trying to ignore the flip-flops her stomach was doing. She never did anything as bold as this, but there was something warm and inviting about Fred. She was intrigued by him and she actually wanted to know more about him.


"Did you really?" she queried, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Nah," he replied with a wink. "You're not my type."

"Oh, I see. You prefer women with bigger breasts."

"See? You're catching on! That's exactly why we hired Verity."

Susan shot him a quizzical look. "Really? I thought it was her arse."

George choke out a snort of laughter and patted Susan on the back. "Good one," he complimented, beaming at her.

Susan grinned. "Where's Fred?"

George shrugged one of his shoulders. "I think he went off to the orchard or something." He rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed heavily. "I swear, he really likes to play the part of wounded animal a lot, especially at these highly unnecessary gatherings. He's not the only old, decrepit one here," he muttered, pointing at the hole where his ear used to be."

"Aww, poor George," Susan cooed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the patch of skin just below the hole. His eyes widened with pleasant surprise and he stared down at her when she pulled away.

"Well, Susan!" he breathed. "If I had known you felt this way all along, I would've suggested we run off together ages ago! Hang on, let me go get my old broom and we'll leave right now! We'll go somewhere tropical. You don't mind living off mangoes and kisses, do you?"

She let out a chuckle and shook her head. "I'm going to go find Fred, you silly, silly man."

Susan left before George could continue his relentless flirting. It was always like this at home, but neither she nor Fred minded much. George knew his boundaries and never really pushed too far beyond them. He knew how much his brother loved her and would never do anything to ruin their relationship. Besides, he had Verity.

She found Fred not in the orchard, but standing under a large oak tree with his hands shoved in his trousers pockets. He was looking out at the pond, an oddly pensive look on his face. She smiled and slowly approached him, trying to be as quiet as possible. As she neared her husband, she frowned slightly when he winced in pain and brought a hand to his left shoulder, massaging it gently. She sighed, wishing he would just get it checked out by a healer.

Fred had injured his shoulder at the Battle of Hogwarts. Augustus Rookwood aimed a deadly curse at the wall behind him, and as Fred tried to jump out of the way, his shoulder got in the way of the curse, pushing him hard into the wall behind him. He was lucky he hadn't been killed; the curse alone could have killed him.

No one was sure what it was; no one had seen a curse like it before. Rookwood must have created it himself.

"Hi, Fred," she said softly. She pressed her lips together when he jumped and moved his hand to rest over his heart.

"Merlin's pants, Susan," he chuckled. "You startled me. Where've you been?"

"Talking to Neville. He was telling me about—"

"Ugh!" he groaned, scrunching up his face in disgust. "I really don't want to hear about plants right now."

"And then I was talking to George for a bit," she added, moving to lean against the tree beside him.

"Ah, with your other lover," he commented with a sly wink. "Of course. You are so very predictable, Susan."

"How am I predictable?" she scoffed.

Fred blew out a breath of air as he thought, which didn't take too long. "Oh, let's see. You wake up at promptly six in the morning, which is an ungodly hour and no one should get out of bed until at least 10 or 11. You shower for exactly 12 minutes, no more no less. And you wear your hair the same way every day." He paused to gently tug at her long reddish brown plait, which had worked its way to hang over her shoulder. He grinned at her when she blushed and yanked her hair out of his grip.

"You have the same thing for breakfast every morning," he went on. "Eggs and toast with no butter and only half a cup of coffee, which you put absolutely nothing in." He shuddered and shook his head. "I don't understand how you can drink it black. And only half a cp? Then you go to work at the Ministry until five, at which point you go to Flourish and Blotts to see if there are any new books that you'd like to read. Then you come home at five-thirty and we cook dinner together. Then—"

Alright, alright," she interrupted, not really interested in hearing him recite her daily schedule. Just because she liked to have a daily routine, it didn't mean she was predictable. "If I'm so predictable, why did you marry me?"

Fred tapped his chin as he pretended to think. "Your tits," he finally decided on, offering her a smug smile. Susan groaned and tilted her head back until it rested against the rough bark of the tree.

He laughed softly and moved to stand in front of her, taking her hands in his. "I married you, Susan, because you're funny, brilliant, you take our jokes so well, and you're one of the few women who can stand George's relentless flirting and actually not melt in a pile of goo. It's nice to know you reserve that just for me."

"Well, of course I do that only for you," she said, lifting a solitary eyebrow. "You're my husband and I love you."

"Hmm. Why exactly do you love me?"

"Your tits."

Fred let out a hearty laugh. "That, my dear, is why I love you so much," he said in between laughs.

She smiled pleasantly at Fred and gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't bear listening to Hermione drone on and on about house-elf rights. I appreciate what she's trying to do, but in all honesty, house-elves like to work. You wouldn't tell a bee to stop making honey just because we have magic and can make it ourselves, would you?"

She beamed at him, shaking her head slightly. "You know, sometimes you're really smart."

Fred grinned. "And the other times?"

Her eyebrows quirked with amusement. "Well, the other times you're just a prat."

Fred's laugh fell short and he grimaced slightly. "My shoulder started to hurt and Mum kept giving me that sympathetic look she always gives me when it starts to bother me. Last thing I need is to be coddled by my mummy." He rolled his eyes and moved to stand next to Susan again. "Just because I'm old and decrepit doesn't mean I can't take care of myself."

"Of course, dear," Susan replied, patting him affectionately on the arm. He glared down at her. "Oh, come on," she said. "It's not that bad. At least you have a mother who cares about you." A sad smile ghosted over her face but she quickly shook it off and squared her shoulders. "Besides, don't you like it when I take care of you?"

Fred grinned mischievously at her. "'Course I do," he replied. "Especially when you do it in just your knickers…or less."

She scoffed and shook her head at him. "What do you say we get out of here? There are so many people here I don't think they'd mind…or notice."

"I love the way you think, wife," Fred replied with a relieved nod. He pushed himself away from the tree and held out his arm for her to take. She groaned loudly and refused to take it at first.

"We're apparating, aren't we?" she asked, scrunching up her face with disgust.

Fred laughed and nodded his head empathetically. He remembered the gruesome story she told him about her mishap during her apparition lessons at Hogwarts. She once told him that she would prefer to travel by broom, despite her crippling fear of heights.

She stared at Fred's offered arm as if it would sprout fangs and attack her. After a few seconds of inner debate, she tentatively rested her hand on his arm and allowed him to whisk her away from the Burrow.


"Fred, I really wish you would see a healer about your shoulder," Susan said as she looked up from her book.

He let out a pained groan and rotated his shoulder, digging his fingers into his flesh to try to alleviate some of the pain. "I've been to a healer," he snapped. "Whatever that curse was that hit me, there's absolutely no way to reverse it. Trust me, Hermione's looked through all the books known to man — magical and muggle — and there's nothing out there."

"Well, what if we try a muggle doctor?"

Fred snorted with laughter and shook his head as he plopped down in a nearby armchair in front of the fireplace. "Those crackpots?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. "Those morons don't know what they're doing."

"Hey," Susan chided offensively. "One of my distant cousins — a muggle — was a doctor."

"Was?" Fred asked with lifted eyebrows.

She shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "I think he died in a car accident or something. I can't be arsed to remember. I didn't really know him, to be honest."

"Yeah, he probably got in a car accident because he was too busy not knowing how to do his job."

Sighing, Susan closed her book and gently set it aside before fixing Fred with a thoughtful expression. She watched as he continued to massage his shoulder. Fred claimed it only hurt when there was a lot of moisture in the air, but Susan knew better. Granted, she knew it was worse when it rained, but she also knew it constantly hurt him, even if it was a slight twinge here and there. Still, a twinge was too much for him to go through.

"I'll tell you what," Susan said. Fred looked up at her and gazed at her quizzically. "If you go see a muggle doctor, I'll let you play whatever pranks you want on me for a month."

Fred twisted his mouth in thought. "Eh. I can prank you anytime regardless," he said with an indifferent shrug. Then a mischievous smile tugged at his mouth and he regarded her with a gleeful look. "How about if I go see this doctor, you have to wear only your knickers for a month."

Susan opened her mouth to protest, really not liking that idea, but then she weighed the pros and cons. If she didn't agree, Fred would never go to see the doctor. Right now, she had him at least partially interested in going, and if he had any incentive whatsoever to encourage him to go, he would comply without any complaints. She hated seeing his shoulder act up, and agreeing to do what he wanted would most likely help him.

She sighed, not really having a choice. "Only in the flat," she said.

Fred grinned and reached out his hand to shake hers to close the deal. "When do we go?"


George frowned at the piece of parchment in front of him, tilting his head to the side in confusion. "I don't get it," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's a surprise for Susan," Fred replied as he yanked the parchment from his brother's hands. He leaned over the counter and studied it before scribbling something on it with his messy handwriting.

"But your anniversary isn't for another five months," George reminded him. "Why are you doing…this?"

"It's not for our wedding anniversary," Fred replied vaguely. "And don't worry about what I'm planning. Just make sure you get Ron to cover for me next Friday, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," George replied. He fixed his brother with a suspicious look. If he didn't include him in his schemes, something big was definitely going to happen.


"Fred, wake up!" Susan shouted, tugging on Fred's arm to try (failingly) and pull him out of bed.

His discernible reply was muffled into his pillow and she let out a groan. "Come on, you've known about your appointment for weeks. I've been reminding you about it every day. Get up or we're going to be late." When he didn't reply, she rolled her eyes and let go of his arm, which dropped like a lead weight.

"Fine," she said lightly as she slowly made her way to the door. "I guess I just won't walk around in just my knickers for a month. I'll wear lots of clothes and heavy flannel and-"

"Today?" Fred asked, lifting his head to glare at her. "It's today?"

"Well, yes," Susan huffed. "It was always today. Friday."

"No!" he groaned, sitting up. "It can't be today!"

She sighed and finally pulled him out of bed. "I know you'd rather work in the shop with George, but I really think it's time you get your shoulder looked at by a muggle doctor. It's been seven years and it's obviously not getting better. If anything, I think it's getting worse."

"Is not," he countered, wincing when his shoulder muscles gave a painful twinge. "Does it have to be today?" he asked. "Can't we reschedule?"

"No," she replied. "This doctor books up really fast and I was lucky to get the appointment when I did! We're going today."


"Get dressed, Fred. Please?"

"How long is this going to take?"

"Fred," she warned, lifting her eyebrows at him.

Fred muttered under his breath, but just loud enough for her to hear. "I swear Hermione's bossiness is rubbing off on you." When he said no more, Susan frowned. Normally, he would have said some smart remark about her and Hermione hooking up. Instead, he slowly got dressed and quickly kissed her cheek on the way out of the bedroom. Sighing, Susan followed behind.


"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Susan asked as they walked through London.

"I have to take these…things?" Fred asked as he looked at the bottle. He shook it, frowning at the loud noise that emitted from it. "What are they called again? Balls?"

"Pills, Fred," she corrected him. "And yes, they're supposed to help manage your pain."

He snorted loudly and scowled at the bottle of pills. "Yeah, manage, but not heal."

"Well, it's either that or you can go see a chiropractor, like Dr. Saunders suggested."

"What, the back breaker?" Fred asked, appalled. "No, thanks. I think I'll stick with Hermione's pain potion," he said as he tossed the pills carelessly over his shoulder. She was about to tell him to take this more seriously, but decided against it when he shot her a challenging look. She worried her bottom lip between her bottom teeth. She really was predictable, wasn't she?

"You really hated being there, didn't you?" Susan asked sympathetically. "Sorry for having to make you go. I really did think it would help."

"It's okay," he replied distractedly. "No harm done. Just please don't make me see the back breaker, okay?"

Susan smiled thinly and nodded. "You were really anxious to get out of there," she commented softly.

Fred didn't say anything, but stopped after a few more steps. He held out his arm to her and she gazed at him curiously.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, it was supposed to be a surprise," he said, moving his arm towards her to get her to take hold of it. "I had this whole thing planned out and…well…you'll see."

Susan continued to watch him with unmasked curiosity as she gently took hold of his arm. She let out a terrified squeak as she felt her body being pressed through a tight rubber tube. When she stumbled into her landing, she found that they were in a heavily wooded area of a forest.

"Forest of Dean," he said. "Luna informed me that between the hours of 9 and 12, the colony of fairies that lived here would come out and perform a…how did she phrase it? A spectacular dance of that would put Veelas to shame." He lifted his arm to check his watch and frowned. "I suppose we just missed it."

"Oh, Fred, I didn't know! You didn't have to," she told him, offering him a warm smile. "If I had known, I wouldn't have scheduled the doctor appointment."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It was supposed to be a surprise," he reminded her. "To celebrate our anniversary."

She frowned in confusion. "Fred, our anniversary isn't for another five months." She then placed her hands on her hips. "Did you forget the date of our wedding anniversary and decide you'd make up a date?"

He snorted and looked at her as though she had sprouted an extra two heads. "'Course not. I'm not daft, y'know. I wanted to celebrate our other anniversary."

She furrowed her brow and tried to rack her brain for what he could possibly mean by 'other anniversary.' After a minute or two, she was still stumped, so she asked him to clarify.

"Five years to the day you finally came to your senses and decided to go out with me."

"Fred," Susan said, still thoroughly confused. "We've gone out before the war."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Yeah, but it's the date we officially, officially got together." Then, scuffing his shoe on the dirt, he mumbled something else under his breath.

"What's that?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I said," he answered, clearing his throat. "I said it's also the date I knew you were the one." She shook her head in misunderstanding, a smile slowly tugging at her mouth. He let out a snort of laughter and looked at her, his mouth forming an affectionate smile. "You were so insistent on not going out with me that it drove me to keep badgering you."

Susan laughed and nodded her head as it all suddenly came to her. "Yes," she replied. "You were so relentless I felt like I had no other choice than to agree. But ever since the summer before my sixth year, I never stopped thinking about you."

Fred beamed at her. "You were so shy, it was incredibly adorable. I think that's what also prompted me to keep asking you." He sighed and looked up at the sky, scrunching his nose in disgust. "Looks like rain," he said. "I suppose you want to go home?"

Susan snorted and took him by the hand. "Hardly," she replied with a broad grin. "Let's go for a walk."

His eyes widened and his mouth slackened slightly. "Really?" he asked. "You don't want to avoid the rain and go home and get cozy in your knickers and parade around for me like the vixen you're so wont to be?"

Susan shrugged her shoulders and tugged him along. "I can do that any time," she replied. "But this place is beautiful and I want to enjoy it. Besides, you went to all the trouble of trying to arrange this, it would be a shame to not enjoy some of it."

They did not go very far before it started to rain softly around them. He asked her if she wanted to go home, but her only reply was that a little rain didn't hurt anyone. A few minutes later, the light drizzle turned into a torrential downpour. This time, Fred was serious about returning home.

"There's a grove over there," Susan said, pointing to something Fred would hardly call a grove. It was more like a sparse cluster of trees that didn't look like it would protect them from the rain very well. "We'll wait out the rain there. It's probably too dark to do anything else."

Before Fred could respond, he found himself being tugged along by his wife to the 'grove' of trees. It just simply would not do. They were still getting soaked under the trees. He promptly took off his jacket and held it over them like an umbrella. Unfortunately, that hardly kept them dry as well.

"So, what's gotten into you?" Fred shouted over the roar of the rain.

"What do you mean?" she yelled back her reply.

"This! Normally you'd want to go home at the mention of rain!"

Susan shrugged as she huddled closer to Fred, clinging onto his wet shirt with one hand as she helped him hold up his soggy jacket. "I was thinking about what you said at Harry's party!" she replied. "About me being predictable. I want to change that!"


Susan nodded. "I'm tired of doing the same thing every day. I married you, after all, and I'm surprised you've let me get away with it these past two years."

"But you're amazing and fun, and I love you! I don't want to be the reason you're having a pre-midlife crisis!"

Susan laughed and shook her head. "It's not a crisis or anything, really! You don't deserve to do the same thing day after day, let alone live with someone who follows such a strict schedule! From now on, I'm going to just grab life by the bollocks and not let go!"

Fred grinned at her as rain poured down their faces. "Sounds like a plan, my dear! Should we try to head home now?"

Susan shook her head again and reached behind her to unravel her braid. She let her sopping locks hang free down her back and reveled at the feel of Fred's hand running through it. She always hated the rain and claimed that if she wanted to get wet, she would take a shower. Now, she wasn't so sure. There was just something about standing in the rain with a loved one huddled under a jacket with their faces so close she could feel his breath warming her skin.

"I think I changed my mind about the rain!" she said. "I think I quite like it!"

Fred's hum of thought was drowned out by the rain as he bent to kiss her, holding her wet body against his. He dropped the jacket, which hardly served a purpose anymore, too the ground and focused his attention on his wife.


"I think I changed my mind about changing my mind about the rain," Susan called through the flat as she vigorously rubbed a towel through her wet hair. She had just finished taking a shower and was stepping out of the bathroom into the hallway.

"Too late for that," Fred's voice answered back from the bedroom.

As she made her way to where Fred was, she shivered, but did not dare to put on anymore clothes. A deal was a deal, and she was supposed to walk around in just her knickers — and bra, as she thankfully convinced him to let her wear — for a whole month.

When she entered the bedroom, her eyes widened in shock and she let out a startled gasp.

"Fred!" she laughed. "What are you doing with your pants on your head?"

He was stretched out on the bed, completely naked, with a pair of his boxers perched on top of his head. When she looked closely, she noticed they were his blue ones with the small yellow ducks on them. She grinned — they were her favorites.

"I decided to join you in the deal," he replied simply. "It's only fair, after all, that we both walk around in our underwear in the flat. Maybe it'll scare off George and Verity and give us the place to ourselves so I can do unmentionable things to you." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and she couldn't contain the bubble of laughter that shot through her chest.

"Oh, Fred." She continued to chuckle as she joined him on bed.

"Happy sort of anniversary, love," he said.

"Nice pants, weirdo," she said, warmly welcoming the kiss he pressed against her lips.

The End