I am tired of it not being possible, it is possible. You are possible. You are possible with me.
I have a Series 3 of Consolation in my head for the times when I’m sad that The Hour got cancelled. Freddy lives (obviously, Freddy lives), although his injuries are quite bad. He convalesces in the hospital for almost a month, and when he’s well enough to sit up for long periods of time, he starts reading. Freddy reads everything. When he’s finally discharged, Bel insists that he move into her flat instead. Freddy wonders aloud that they’ve skipped a step from kissing to living together in sin; Bel blushes, and he tells her that he loves her the most when she blushes, which earns him a (grateful) shove.
In Bel’s flat, Freddy continues to read — books, magazines, newspapers. He begins to suspect there is a conspiracy to hide Something in a new piece of legislation Parliament is trying to pass (he’s just not that sure what the Something is). Freddy calls Bel insistently about it, which she at first indulges but then quickly becomes a nuisance because she is extremely busy being a producer of a news program. When Bel stops returning Freddy’s messages, he tries Lix, which works exactly zero times. Bel finally does call back, furious, exclaiming, “I’m not your source and I’m not your nursemaid, Freddy, I’m your bloody girlfriend!!” It’s the first time Bel has used the G-word — it’s the first time either them have called each anything besides Freddy’s occasional my Moneypenny (the posessive is a new additional). Bel smiles. “You’re blushing,” Freddy declares. “I can hear it.”
Freddy is, of course, exactly right about both the blushing and the Parliamentary conspiracy. Obviously.
You are possible. You are possible with me.
Everybody liked porn in early 20th-century China and everybody everywhere still does.