CHAPTER 1

Endeavour Morse watched Mr. and Mrs. Thursday dance from the hallway, while at the same time wondering if he might ever do the same (with his wife, just to be clear). He was truly happy for them and admired the fact that after all those years of marriage, they still loved each other unconditionally. Or at least, that was his impression.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sam, handing him a glass of Scotch.

"Here you go."

Endeavour thanked him and was relieved to finally have something to occupy his hands with. He always felt that urge to stuff them in his pockets.

He poured the liquor down his throat at once and turned around when he heard the sound of heels on the stairs, with the glass still attached to his lips.

Just in time to see the back of a young, beautiful, descending brunette, wearing a blue and gleaming dress that stopped just before knee-length. He didn't let the opportunity go amiss to glance at her butt, but felt guilty immediately after. She's his boss' daughter, for goodness sake!

He didn't have much time to scold himself because she was already standing in front of him.

"Where have you been all night?"

"Don't ask." He sniffed, trying to keep his thoughts away from the solved case. Especially from Mr. Huggins, that horrible man. He focused entirely on Joan.

"So," she gave a nod towards the living room, "are you dancing?"

"Are you asking?" He quickly responded with a toothy smile. She laughed and Endeavour thought she looked very cute and attractive when she did. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Say that I am, hypothetically speaking of course, what would your answer be?" He noticed she took a little step forward, and he copied her. He blamed the alcohol.

"Then I would say that there are far better dancers on this property than me." He gave her a smile, never breaking eye contact.

"What if I didn't want another person?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Your wish is my command!" Straightening up a bit, he asked in a solemn tone: "Miss Thursday, would you like to dance with me?" Well, at least his tone was solemn, his facial expression was anything but...

The look in her big eyes made his heart flutter. Normally, he wasn't good at being social with women- hell, he wasn't good at being social with anyone! Of course, there were the occasional exceptions and it seemed like this was one of them.

No words were exchanged: Joan simply grabbed his empty glass, put it on the side table next to them and took his hand.

He let her take him through the hall, kitchen and finally the back door. She stopped in the middle of the grass of their back garden. It was large and well kept, someone loved gardening apparently. There were decorative lights hung in front of the wooden fence. The music was perfectly clear (Endeavour expected there was a window open somewhere) and soft light lit up the garden from inside the house.

Revelling in the beauty of it all, he missed Joan watching him like he was a mystery she was desperate to solve. After a few seconds, she gained his full attention again.

He held out his hand, eyes on each other when she laid hers in his. He drew her to him and put his hands on her waist, hers went automatically to his neck. They started dancing on the music, in what seemed like their own little bubble. The Constable could barely contain a smile.

"What are you smiling about?" She teased.

"Nothing in particular, but what about yourself? Are you enjoying this evening, Miss Thursday?"

"Of course I am, I've got you, don't I?" She gave him a wink. "And drop the 'Miss Thursday' already. Call me Joan!" He laughed out loud: she just wouldn't give up…

"It's only appropriate since you call me Morse", he half-heartedly defended himself.

"If you would tell me your first name, I'd have an alternative…"

"It's not a common name, so I'm good with Morse." They had been getting closer and closer, literally. Where there was at first an arm's length of distance between them, was now only a couple of inches left. Neither of them seemed to mind.

"Fine, but keep in mind I won't stop prying until I find out. I can be very persuasive."

"I don't doubt it for a moment." In the comfortable silence that followed, Endeavour noticed his hands had unintentionally slid southwards until they were almost grazing her bum. He abruptly put them back, high on her waist.

Joan noticed the change, of course, pretty hard not to.

"What is it?" She looked up at him, but he averted his eyes.

"My apologies, I was accidentally touching you in an... inappropriate way." She was carefully reading between the lines, a skill her dad had taught her.

"You expected me to feel offended." It wasn't a question. She merely stated what signals she picked up from him.

"Eh, well… Given your reaction to Jakes in the Moonlight Rooms…" he stammered. She withdrew her hands from his neck and crossed her arms. He quickly let go of her too and uncomfortably put his hands in those bloody pockets.

"This is entirely different. Peter was a jerk, couldn't take no for an answer. From the start I realized he wasn't my type of man. It were his looks that made me go out with him in the first place."

Now Endeavour felt stupid for even asking her to dance: he just wanted to turn back the time a few minutes. Although it may have looked lonely, he was perfectly fine in that hallway. Not happy, but when was he ever?

"But I couldn't leave him standing there, could I? So I tried to make the best of the evening. And after he sneaked out when he should have helped my father -too afraid to get caught- there isn't a force on this planet that could make me go out with him again!"

That's what bothered her the most: the coward had left her dad in a dangerous situation, while Morse was there right on time, like always. She had never figured out what he was doing there, probably some secretive police work that she can't know about...

"Look, Miss Thursday," he ignored the annoyed look she gave him, "it was certainly never in my intentions to touch you anywhere in that region. Like I said, it's neither appropriate nor necessary!" He might have raised his voice slightly, not intentionally, to get his point across.

The message had arrived and for some unknown reason, Joan looked at him as if he had just slapped her in the face.

She looked at her feet and responded with tears in her eyes: "Of course, what was I thinking? Of course it's not necessary, you're right… Ehm, I guess I'll see you around, Constable, or not…"

And with that she scurried off, being inside the house before he had even time to blink.

At that point, Endeavour still hadn't figured out what he said or did wrong.

"Women!" he muttered, before heading back inside to get another drink.