A/N: Let's start with an unpopular opinion of mine, shall we? Here goes: I don't think Lovejoy and Jane should have ended up together, not after everything that happened post-series three. THAT said, up until the end of series three I was rooting for them like crazy. Which is why I feel the need to mend some things.

This story picks up the storyline at the end of "Members Only", sans the hooligans who'd spoilt that perfect moment outside the restaurant, and follows Jane and Lovejoy as they leave for Scotland. I hope you enjoy it, and I'd appreciate any feedback you'd be willing to provide me with!

What Becomes Of Friends

"Lovejoy—"

"Shh," he raised his hand to her face, searching her eyes for permission. They were close, so close he could swear her heartbeat resonated in his ears. This was it. No turning back. No place to hide, no way he could deny the feelings he was having.

I know how you feel, Janie.

Do you, Lovejoy? Oh, the hope in her voice... the darkening of her eyes right now.

He was sure he knew.

He let his hand fall down, brush her hip, pull her close—and finally, after years and years of imagining, kissed Lady Jane Felsham.

Her lips parted under his as she let out a small sigh and kissed him back, her right hand grabbing at the lapel of his jacket. She was intoxicatingly sweet, warm and responsive; he could easily lose himself in her...

"Good evening, Lady Jane, Lovejoy. Did you enjoy your meal?"

Weren't the Japanese supposed to be very private people? "Mr. Kashimoto." The bespectacled Asian gave him a toothy grin. Too much wine with his dinner. Figures. "Yes, it was quite nice." Not as nice as the thing that came afterwards; and I'd much rather be doing that than talking to you, mister.

"Very good fish. We have good fish in Japan, too. Have you tried sushi, Lovejoy?"

He was about to scream at the poor man and tell him to shove off, when Jane's hand placed flat on his back shut him up rather efficiently. "Mr. Kashimoto, please forgive me," Jane's low, soft voice cut into the slightly slurry tirade of the red-faced Japanese, "but I don't feel very well. Would you take me home, Lovejoy?"

Bless this woman: not only was she an excellent kisser and a beauty, but she also had a sharp mind and knew exactly how to use it. "Certainly, my lady. Mr. Kashimoto, would you excuse us?..."

The man offered a hurried apology and backed away to rejoin his party, and Lovejoy smirked at his retreating back before looking back to Jane. She was fiddling with the clasp of her purse, not meeting his eyes. Lovejoy frowned and reached out to still her fingers, running his thumb over her knuckles as he took her hand. "Jane?"

She raised her eyes to his and offered him a shaky smile that broke his heart a little. Was she already regretting giving in to the thrill of the moment? He hoped she wasn't—in fact, he wished they could repeat that kiss, and much more, before the night was over—but he knew better than to push her, not here, not now.

"It's alright, Janie. It's all good. We're good," he said, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Now, let's get you home."

The drive home was awfully quiet. Jane stared out of the window, her fingers clasping the purse in her lap (Perhaps the only reason why women carried their purses around was for stress relief?). Lovejoy tried to concentrate on driving—which wasn't easy, given how he could still taste Jane when he ran his tongue on the inside of his mouth.

They really needed to talk, if not anything else.

When he finally pulled up at Felsham Hall, the tension inside the car was thick enough to cut it with a wooden spoon. He killed the engine and placed his hands on the wheel, looking straight ahead and waiting for Jane to say something—anything—to let him know where they stood.

His resolve to be patient and understanding lasted about thirty seconds.

He turned to Jane and gently touched her shoulder, making her blink rapidly and look at him, wide-eyed. "Penny for your thoughts, Janie?"

"You would need much more than that," she answered in a low voice and bit her lip.

"I'm willing to give you anything at all," he declared solemnly. She managed a lopsided smile and reached for the hand he still kept on her shoulder; Lovejoy gave it to her without questioning, and watched, mesmerized, as she traced the outline of each finger, then turned it palm up and followed the heart line with her fingertip.

She seemed small, unsure, lost—like a little girl in the fog.

And the realization that it was him that made her feel this way hit Lovejoy like a shovel to the head.

"I should probably head back," he said quietly, despite all his senses going into overdrive and screaming at him to grab this woman and have his wicked way with her—preferably not in Miriam's backseat, although it could be arranged. In nine cases out of ten he'd have absolutely no objections to follow through with this plan, but not this time: not with Jane. If one simple kiss managed to get her into such a state, they would both be better off if he simply went home and…

"Won't you come inside, Lovejoy?"

His head shot up and he gave her a thoughtful look, noticing the determined set of her chin and the slight glaze in her eyes. "If you're sure—"

Jane simply nodded and got out of the car, heading for the door without ever looking back to see if he followed. She probably knew he wouldn't be able to resist the invitation, however hesitant a one.

When he stepped over the threshold, she was already in the sitting room, turning the lights on and busying herself with idle things like rearranging the porcelain figurines on a mantelpiece. "How about a drink, then? Or perhaps some coffee? You cannot tell me you've actually enjoyed that poor excuse of a—"

"Janie," Lovejoy crossed the room in a few long steps and grasped her hands, stopping her mid-motion, "sit down, love. You're vibrating."

She shook her head, averting her eyes. "Honestly, Lovejoy, I feel perfectly—"

"I've told you once, and I will say it again: I know how you feel, Janie."

This actually caught her attention, and made her look at him, pleadingly. "I'm not quite sure you do."

"Let me tell you, then. You want… this," he ran his thumbs over her hands, up to the underside of her wrists and back, "you want us—but you're terrified of what comes next. And I reciprocate each of these feelings."

Jane cocked her head to the side and sighed in exasperation. "You're right. And it's an extremely irritating thing for you to be."

"Well, perhaps we need to do something about it."

"What do you suggest?"

Taking you in my arms, carrying you upstairs and making you forget your own name, let alone everything you're afraid of. "How about we have some milk with a drop of tea, and then I kiss you again and go home… and we see how you feel about all this tomorrow?"

Jane looked down and squeezed Lovejoy's hands, shaking her head with a determined look on her face. "No, Lovejoy. This wouldn't do at all. I appreciate your offer, but it's not what I want."

Well, at least I got to kiss her… "Alright, Janie, I get it. I'll be on my way then, shall—"

He didn't finish the sentence.

It's quite difficult to talk when a perfectly beautiful woman throws her arms around your neck and kisses you with everything she's got, isn't it?...

TBC…