I read somewhere, once, that extremes of emotion can act like an aphrodisiac. In the space of a couple of minutes, I'd gone from cold terror, to aching grief, to angry relief, to breathless hilarity.

Let's just say I didn't need oysters.

And what was this irritating, mishap-ridden, ridiculously charming and palpably warm man's answer to the ludicrous heap we had made on a blanket of damp leaves?

 He lifted his head up and he kissed me.

He kissed me rather well, in fact.

Some time later, we were rolling across the woodland carpet, lost in a flood of passion, when Niles yelped into my mouth, jerked his head away in a flinch and was suddenly kneeling up beside me, rubbing his elbow and muttering words which I was surprised he even knew. I'd never heard an American say 'sod' before.

I frowned at him.

"Sorry," he gasped. "I leaned on a pinecone."

Niles was looking so sheepish that I couldn't prevent another fit of giggles. When I regained the ability to speak, I just shook my head at him and mused, "What on earth am I going to do with you, Niles Crane?"

He managed a smirk, then. "Are you open to suggestions?"

I struggled to sit up and whacked him, just for old times' sake.

"Is that a 'no'?" he pressed.

"It's a 'let's get you to a pinecone-free zone'," I replied, still a little dizzy at the potency of our recent tension-breaker. "Come on, Hop-along."

I went to reclaim that damned boot while Niles clambered to his feet. Putting one arm around my shoulders and supporting his other side on a branch, he managed to make a steady pace beside me back towards the campsite.

"Umm, Daphne?" came the hesitant enquiry after a minute or so's silence, as we walked.

"Niles?" I asked, glad of the way the darkness hid my grin.

"Does this mean ...?"

I paused for a beat, then played dumb. What can I say, I was feeling mischievous.

"Does this mean what?"

"Well, that you and I ... umm ..."

I made him wait a few moments more, before airily replying, "So you think I go rolling about in secluded glades with just anybody, do you?"

"Daphne, stop teasing me and answer a straight question."

"Then ask me a straight question!"

Niles stopped short, and I almost managed to drag him off balance before remembering his lack of mobility and backing up. I could barely see his face through the blackness, but I could feel his breath.

"Okay," the disembodied voice said. "Answer me this. Will you have dinner with me when we get back?"

"I'd love to," I nodded. I could almost hear his slow, elated smile, which made up for only being able to see it in my mind's eye. "Just one thought, though."

"What's that?"

"How exactly *are* we going to get back, given that you're the only one insured to drive the Winnebago, and your ankle is sprained?"

I felt his shoulders slump against me. "Oh damn, I hadn't even thought of that."

"We'll work something out. First things first. Let's get you back inside."

We completed the journey, astonishingly enough, without further mishap, then made the obligatory meal of getting Niles up the steps and into the motor home. Maggie had managed to sleep through the entire shenanigans, and didn't even stir as we shut ourselves in for the night.

Niles refused to sit on the bed I was using, telling me that his jeans were too filthy, so I told him to take them off.

He hesitated, then looked about distractedly.

"Do you want me to turn round?" I sighed.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to."

"Niles, I've seen you in your knickers before."

"I'm ... not wearing any."

It was my turn to pause. I think I might even have blushed. I'm bloody English, okay?!

"I was dressing in the dark," Niles explained, "and I didn't want to spend time rummaging about for a clean pair." When I glanced in the corner, where he'd left his clothing from the previous day folded for packing, he gasped in outrage. "I couldn't have put those back on!"

"Fine," I said, not bothering to disguise my amusement. "Drop your kecks, sit down and cover yourself up with a blanket. I'll get you some shorts when you don't need my shoulder to lean on." And with that I turned around slowly, so he could steady his weight on me whilst fumbling with his trousers. Strange as it might seem, these were the little logistical puzzles we had to solve on a regular basis. I was past dwelling on the ludicrousness of the situation.

He sat down after a few moments, and there was a rustle as he shielded his modesty. "Okay," he offered from behind me.

I sorted him out a clean pair of undies and turned back to see him bent forwards, untying his other boot. I knelt before him and pulled his denims off, then I handed Niles his shorts. As he struggled into them, I set about retrieving the first aid kit and filling the tiny bathroom basin with warm water.

When I washed his swollen foot, I spied Niles looking down at me strangely. I asked him what was the matter, and he told me that in some Eastern cultures, the washing of feet was considered extremely erotic. I rolled my eyes and told him that there was a cushion there, if he needed it.

Niles said, "Daphne!" in such shock, that I managed a giggle.

Ten minutes later, I'd bandaged the ankle and found some Advil for the pain. He asked for a clean T-shirt and I obliged him, then I decided that the hastily donned garments I'd found before venturing outside could stand to be changed.

He lay along the bed, turning his back to me politely as I stripped. You wouldn't have thought that, half an hour previously, he'd been on the verge of ripping the same garments off me, himself. I paused to consider that, had it not been for that stray pinecone launching its attack, there was every likelihood that we'd have eventually made it back to the Winnebago with half the forest floor sticking to our nether regions.

In retrospect, I think it was probably just as well that we'd been interrupted.

And then that awful moment arrived when there was nothing more to busy myself with. Sporting my jim-jams and looking down at where Niles lay over the bedclothes, I swallowed. He sensed my silence and looked cautiously back, then rolled over when he realised I was decent.

It looked like I had the fold-down cot for the rest of the night.

"Daphne," Niles said softly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"This may seem terribly forward, but I'm not feeling at my most agile right now, and that cot is four feet off the floor, so can I sleep with you tonight?"

I shrugged with a nonchalance I wasn't really feeling, figured that half the table-bed was roomier than the cot, and lowered myself down beside him.