Zelda grabbed onto the lapels of Alfred's coat with her newly-freed hands, trying to tug him closer, lengthen the kiss. This was why, she thought, showing up in someone's garden was supposed to be romantic - once they were kissing, the fear of being caught was sort of tantalizing, like the risk made just kissing feel better than it would have otherwise.

When she had fallen into bed with him, three years ago - she would have thought this was romantic. When Zelda was younger, she thought that she could get away with anything, with everything - now she was old enough to know that wasn't possible. Things were complicated, she had essentially played a game of chicken with her family that ended in their courting. She had wanted to be an animagus, that spring, had never really tried. Her boss was, she was certain, didn't like he Dionisia's son wasn't Ari's, he was someone else's, and she had told the real father. People were married and they didn't love each other or even like each other, Xena was marrying someone she certainly didn't love, and Zelda stayed as inside the lines as she could. The risk was too high.

She wanted to feel like that again - like she could get away with anything.

"I think about this all the time," Zelda said when the kiss was done, propelled by the memory of that feeling, like she could do anything. She leaned up to kiss the point where Alfred's jaw met his neck. "All the time."

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