Much as Davina enjoyed bartending, she did not enjoy the city. Too many rude people, too many bigots, too much smoke, too much litter and pollution, too much noise. Good grief, the noise. She swore her ears had gotten more sensitive after starting estrogen.

Much as the city had its loathsome aspects, it had also given her you. You, her darling partner who she loved to bits. You'd walked into the bar one night after a long day, utterly exhausted and ready for a little alcohol to soothe your frayed nerves, and she'd been instantly smitten. She sauntered on over to you, drink in hand, looking a lot more confident than she felt, and placed it before you. 'On the house,' she'd said with a wink, and the rest was history.

Now, a few years of love later, the two of you had moved out to the countryside, near South Downs in England. It was perfect for you both, being out where trees outnumbered telephone poles.

Now that summer had finally blossomed from the bursting bud of spring, the two of you were determined to take advantage of your countryside home. A wild meadow grew nearby your cottage, complete with a clear, cold stream winding through the middle. Like, Disney-movie level scenery. You half expected Bambi to pop out of the bushes when you weren't looking.

Sprawled out across Davina's lap, you watched as she wove a crown out of wildflowers, tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration. Her curls bounced around her shoulders, and her eyes glittered as she looked at her little project.

When she finished, a soft smile spread over her lips and she fitted the crown around your head.

"There. Lovely. My darling, you look like a fairy monarch."