A/N: This March fic has been a nightmare to write. This is my fifth attempt at a story, which is why it's so late. It was meant to be a short one shot but once I started it blew up into a multi-chapter fic. Whoops.
Anyway, this is an AU very loosely based on the show Married at First Sight. I've only just started watching Lewis (well, re-watching it, would be more accurate. I watched it when it was first on telly but I wasn't paying much attention) so you'll have to excuse any mistakes in the characters backstory. While Wikipedia states Lewis's son is named Patrick, I've decided to follow the fandom's tradition of calling him Mark, so as to avoid confusion.
WARNING: Likely spelling and grammar errors (sorry), probably out of character as I'm relatively new to the ship and thereby haven't gotten a handle of their personalities. Incorrect psychology and university knowledge (I'm winging it)
It was the loneliness that drove him too it. With Lyn and Mark fully grown and embarking on their own lives, and the anniversary of his wife's death just behind him, the thought of the next twenty years in front of him alone seemed...unbearable. Of course, many would probably call it a midlife crisis, and perhaps they were right, yet here he was, seriously considering it.
Robbie stared at the form in front of him, his final signature all that was needed. He hadn't ever thought of marrying again. No, that was a lie. He'd considered it a few times over the last couple of years. When Val's killer had been caught, it had lifted a weight he hadn't acknowledged carrying. He'd started breathing again when he'd heard the judge past sentence, and then...then he'd started thinking about the future.
He didn't expect to find true love again, once in a life time was enough, rather companionship. He'd considered, for a brief moment, which he'd find that with Laura Hobson, having known her for going on twenty years. However it never seemed to happen, it just never seemed like the right time. It had been an easy transition from friendship to lovers with Val, from the moment they'd met to their last kiss, it had always been simple. Never any awkwardness, never any uncertainty. It had just...happened.
Of course he didn't expect that a second time, but he couldn't shake the idea that if he and Laura hadn't gotten there before now, he sincerely doubted they were meant to. She was a good friend, but that was all.
As for his track record with other woman over the past year or two, well... if he were superstitious he'd say he'd been cursed. One turning out to be a murderer, he'd brush off as bad luck, but two?
Which was what led him to this whole silly idea.
He swung the pen between his fingers before setting it down, the paper unmarked, and leaning back in the office chair. Maybe this was just too stupid an idea. Morse would undoubtedly think so, as would James undoubtedly. He glanced up at the empty seat across from him, his sergeant having left a thirty minutes ago.
His mind travelled to his old friend and mentor, and it brought a painful knot to his chest, the familiar cloud of sorrow settling over him, as it always did when Morse flittered across his mind. As much as he admired the man, the thought of ending up like him was terrifying. He could already see it happening, so could Laura. Since returning to Oxford he'd found himself slipping into some of Morse's habits. The calming echo of classical music rolling though his flat at the end of a hard day. The half completely pile of crosswords scattered over his kitchen counter, in the glove box of his car. In the drawer of his desk. He even heard himself sounding like the man on bad days, when a case was getting away from them. James, surprisingly, took the foul mood and sharp worlds in his stride, in a way he himself had never quite been able to with Morse.
The memory of the old man laying pale and cold on a pathology table with no one there to mourn his loss but colleagues wrapped around him like a suffocating spectre and Robbie shivered. No, he couldn't bear to go like that.
Snatching up the pen, Robbie scribbled his signature on the paper, folded it and sealed it in an envelope, before he changed his mind for the hundredth time. Now he just had to wait and see what science had in store for him.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
Life in Oxford was pretty much the same as it had always been. Nothing every really changed in the city. For hundreds of years the posh old boys club had held power and sway over practically everything inside its ancient streets. Robbie hated it. Morse had at least been educated enough to warrant the respect of the college dons, even if he wasn't one of their kind of people. Lewis however barely knew his Keats from his Shakespeare, his Coleridge from his Shelley. Lucky then he had a halfway decent detective sergeant who could, and did fill in the gaps.
They hadn't hit it off straight away. Hathaway was young and posh, and well a little too quick to show off his education, for Robbie to feel completely at ease with him, but over the past couple of years, they'd found a halfway decent balance. He'd go as far as to say they'd developed a friendship, though it was still filled with the unknown. For instance, Robbie knew little to nothing about James's family, or his up-bringing. He knew he'd trained to be a priest, and that his beliefs had cost him a good friend.
Possibly something more, Robbie wasn't hundred percent sure, and James avoided the subject.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
He got the confirmation letter a month after making the application but he didn't actually get around to opening it for two days thanks to his latest murder case, which had almost landed him in hospital. When he finally did get around to it, he was both surprises and nervous to see that he'd been accepted. After that it all went by in a flash. He was called in to talk some more with the psychology team. To give some samples. Frankly he'd been beyond surprised that they'd accepted him. After all, at 58 he wasn't exactly at his peak, but he'd been told by the beautiful Professor Elisabeth Gregory that age was just a number and everyone deserved to find true love. He'd told her how he'd had true love once and wasn't expecting, or even wanting to find it again. He just wanted...someone.
He'd half expected that to be his death kneel, but she'd just smiled encouragingly at him, in that way the young did to their elders when they thought they were being silly, and started asking him about his hobbies and work.
It was another month before he was informed by Gregory that they'd found him a match. She'd asked him to attend yet another meeting with her to discuss the details. There had been something about her tone that had made him nervous. He couldn't place it, but his old copper instinct were on high alert.
"How have you been?" She asked casually as they make themselves comfortable in her small office. Unlike most of Oxford, the building, and the rooms within were all cool and modern.
Cold Robbie thought every time he was forced to be there. "Fine, thanks." He nodded, gaze travelling the room out of professional curiosity. - Or perhaps it was simple nervousness. It had been one thing to agree to this experiment, to actually consider meeting and starting a future with a complete stranger. It was quite another now he it knew he was expected to go through with it.
When he'd first seen the advertisement he'd dismissed it as cold and empty, but it had somehow peaked his curiosity enough for him to actually look into it. He'd expected it to be some kind of mail order bride service disguised as a psychological experiment, and somehow the further he'd looked into it, the more it had appealed to him. He'd told himself a thousand times over the past three months that he had nothing to lose, and a lot to gain. - Only now...
"Nervous?"
Robbie huffed, shoulder jerking minutely. "Just a bit." He smiled tightly, shifted on the white couch and fussing with his tie. He'd seriously considering backing out since the moment he'd gotten the confirmation letter, especially when he thought about telling the kids. While Lyn had been encouraging him to get back out there, find someone new. "Mum wouldn't want you to be alone forever dad." He doubted she'd be particular impressed by his choice of method.
And there was work. Having to explain the sudden appearance of a wife? He could just imagine the rumour mill. However he wasn't in a position to back out. He'd known what he'd been signed up for this. Had agreed to all the terms and conditions. Any lawyer worth their salt would be able to hold him to it, and one a detective's salary, he couldn't afford to be sued for breach of contract.
There was another reason why he wasn't willing to back out. A more personal one. The overwhelming fear of loneliness eclipsed all his worries. His determination not to end up like Morse pushed him forward. Lyn and Mark would understand, eventually, he was sure. As for work? Well whispers and rumours had never bothered him before. The only two people at work who's opinion he gave two craps about was James and Laura, and he was sure they'd support him, whether they understood or not.
"Okay." Gregory smiled encouragingly. "Now you remember how we were going to go about finding you a match. DNA, psychological evaluations, questionnaires."
"I remember." Robbie nodded, his foot tapping against the indigo carpet. "You found someone?"
Professor Gregory nodded, smiling tightly. "And surprisingly you have a high compatibly rate. Of course that's just on paper." She cleared her throat.
Robbie frowned, leaning forward slightly. "What's wrong?" He asked, suddenly alert to her rather uncomfortable air.
Gregory shifted back a little more in her white swivel chair, her pale blue eyes avoiding him for a few seconds. "You remember the terms you signed?" She asked slow and quiet.
Now Robbie was really worried, reminding him of his contract didn't bode well at all. He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing.
"The thing is Robbie, huh...well we were surprised to discover that your match was..." She dragged her tongue across her lips nervously.
"Get on with it, pet."
She smiled awkwardly. "It's a...man."
Robbie sat there staring at her, confused and bewildered. "Excuse me?"
"We discussed how this study wasn't going to discriminate by sexuality." she said in a rush of breath.
He remember the discussion, and he'd shrugged and nodded. Hadn't even given it a second thought because he hadn't for a single second imagined that he'd end up being matched with another man. "You said you wouldn't be ruling it out." He repeated her words back to her. "And I told you I wasn't gay."
She nodded sympathetically. "I remember, and we discussed sexuality during our sessions and how it was a fluid ever changing scale. I gave you those papers on the Kinsey Scale."
Robbie dragged a hand over his face, shaking his head in disbelieve. He remembered she'd given him a pile of leaflets after their discussion. He'd barely glanced at them. Instead he'd tossed them aside in favour of a murder report and the previous night's football. He'd forgotten all about it. "You've got t'be kidding me. I can't marry a man." He stated firmly.
She stared at him silently, her lips a pink line. Her left hand was fiddling with her pen while her foot wiggled side to side over her folded leg. "You don't really have a choice, Robbie?" she eventually asked, her tone taking on a firmer tone.
"But I'm not gay."
Professor Gregory exhaled a long breath. "Well of course you could back out but..." She hesitated for a few second. "...you know what it'll mean."
He glowered at her, eyes narrowing.
She swallowed thickly and set her notebook aside, rolling her chair forward and leaning on her now unfolded knees. Her entire posture changing for cool professionalism to desperate humanity. "The fact is Robbie, this is an impotent study that a lot of people have put time and energy into and, well we only chose a handful of participants. If you pull put now..." She sighed regretfully. "We'll probably have to scrap the whole thing and start again."
Robbie stared at her, brows furrowing. "What, why?"
"This isn't just about setting to strangers up on blind dates, it's about the data. We've spent countless hours in interviews and collecting information. It's all interwoven. Every participant's details and data is connected to everyone elses." Her lips pulled softly at the corner. "Remove one variable and the whole thing becomes useless."
Robbie stared at her, dumbfounded and angry. Mostly at himself.
"I know this is unexpected and...unwanted. I know you had hoped for...something else." she said softly, genuine regret and empathy in her voice.
"A woman like?"
Gregory shrugged. "But it's six months." she reminded. "After that it's down to you. Stay together..."
Robbie glared at her disbelievingly.
"Or go your separate ways. Please Robbie, just go along with it for six months, that all I'm asking."
"And what about this fella you're setting me up with? What if he wants...?" He shuddered.
"I'll be meeting with him today. I'll explain the situation. If you're both open to continuing then I'll be here to help make this as painless as possible." She looked at him pleadingly.
Robbie sat in silence thinking. He had been warned, and he had signed up for this, he just hadn't expected it to go so epically wrong. He'd hoped to find someone to spend what remained of his life with.
At least you'll get some company for the next six months. No more silent nights in front of the telly eating crappy frozen dinners. That wasn't at all comforting or reassuring. What if this guy fancied him? Robbie scoffed at the absurdity of the thought.
"So who is this bloke then?" Robbie asked, resigned.
Gregory sighed, slumping in her chair. "Well you know I can't tell you much. Need to leave you something to talk about." She smiled, chuckling awkwardly for a briefly second before sobering. "He's 30..."
"30? I know you said there might be a gap but..." He shook his head disbelievingly.
"You have a rather good match score. 91%" Gregory hurriedly reassured.
Robbie stared at her. "What could me and a 30 year old possibly have in common?"
"The police force." She said before she could stop herself. Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. "Blast, I shouldn't have said that."
"Are you saying he's a copper?" Robbie demanded. "In Oxford?"
Gregory flushed, dropping her gaze. "I can't say anything else."
He sat staring at her. This bloke he'd foolishly agreed to shack up with was a member of the Oxford constabulary. At his station? Bugger it, he probably already knew him. At 30 he could be anyone, likely a PC. This was getting ridiculous, how the hell was he meant to keep it bloody quiet now?
"Robbie?" Gregory called, drawing his attention.
"I need to go." Robbie replied sharply, getting hurriedly to his feet and heading for the office door. "Got to get back to work." he said over his shoulder when Gregory called after him.
"I'll contact you with the details." she said behind him as he yanked open the door and marched through it, waving a silent angry hand at her. He didn't bother closing the door, his mind was too stuffed with desperate panicked thoughts to do anything but walk.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
Robbie stood staring into the station canteen wondering who it was. He knew from what he'd heard going around that at least three of PCs were openly gay; Chambers, Palace and Radawski. Rebecca Chambers was easily illuminated. Jonathan Palace had apparently been with the same fella for five years, and according to the desk sergeant he and his partner were looking forward to adopting a baby girl soon. Which left Stefan Radawski.
Robbie looked at the young man, his dark auburn hair and pale skin. He was a larger build than Robbie, making it clear he spent time at the gym. The only time Robbie went to the gym was when he was as part of his physio therapist after he'd done his back in. He wasn't a body language expert by any means, but age and experience was all he need to know this guy wasn't very well liked by his colleagues. That didn't bode well him.
"Sir?"
Robbie turned at the sound of his name to find James regarding him. "What is it?"
"Just got the forensics back, sir." He held out the file.
Robbie nodded, turning swiftly away from the canteen. He took the file from Hathaway's hand and began to flick through it. "Looks like Baskill was in Professor Weaver's office after all." he said as they passed through the double doors.
All thoughts of his upcoming gay marriage were forgotten. For now.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
Two weeks later Lewis arrived early at the local registry office. He'd book the day off the moment Gregory had informed him of the wedding date. He'd expected James to ask questions about his plans, considering how sudden it was, but the young man looked relieved. Robbie understood why, the last few months had been busy for them both, they deserved a few days leave. He looked down at his work suit and sighed. Some effort was probably expected, but he wasn't going to by a new suit for a marriage that wasn't real and he didn't particually want to be going ahead with.
You only have yourself to blame. He reminded himself.
He was met at the door by Gregory, smiling like the cat that got the cream. She had made the effort, he noted and once again he felt a touch ashamed of himself. Val would have had his guts for garters if he'd turned up to their wedding in his third best work suit. He shook the thought away and walked over, forcing a polite smile.
"I thought for a moment that you'd backed out." Gregory said, touching his arm welcomingly
"Sorry, bit of traffic." He looked around the nearly empty foyer, then back to her. "You look nice." He said sincerely.
"Thank you. You too."
Robbie shook his head. "I'm sorry I didn't make more of an effort."
She smiled understandingly. "You look fine."
"So..." he murmured, taking a deep breath. "Where is...he?" Robbie asked nervously.
"He's in the registrar's office with Father Wyden and Professor Kirkwood."
Robbie nodded. He'd only met the men a couple of times. Father Wyden was there to give spiritual guidance and reassurance to the participants. Robbie had asked him why exactly he was getting involved in the study, especially when there was no guarantee that any of the marriages would actually last. The man had smiled and given him a long winded lecture about finding love in the strangest of places, and god moving in mysterious ways. He'd probably said a lot more, but quite frankly Robbie had stopped listening.
As for Kirkwood, he'd only met with him twice, during the initial interview stage. There was something about the man that had left Robbie feeling a suspicious itch in the back of his mind, but the truth was Robbie generally felt that way about Oxford professors, so he'd just dismissed it as simply disliking the man.
"Well, I'm not getting' any younger." he sighed, fussing with his tie and jacket one last time. "Let's get this over with Lass."
Gregory inclined her head and slipped her arm through his, leading him towards the room he was going to be meeting his mystery man in.
When he'd agreed to this he'd hope it would lead to something more lasting, which was really the only way he'd convinced himself it wasn't such a foolhardy, disloyal thing to do. Val always said, in that way people did, that she didn't want him to mourn forever if anything happened to her. That she wanted him to find someone and keep living. He hadn't been able to do that, not her ghost had been laid to rest. Simon Monkford's arrest had felt like a sign. It was time to live again.
This however hadn't been how he'd expected to do it.
They reached the office door and Robbie took a deep breath, sending up a prayer of forgiveness to Val. He would have prayed for help too, but he and god weren't on speaking terms anymore.
"Ready?" Gregory asked with a warm encouraging smile.
Robbie nodded and held his breath as the young woman who'd convinced him to go along with this stepped forward and opened the door. He stepped cautiously inside and the ground beneath him opened up. "Hathaway?"
"Sir?" The lad gasped, eyes wide with horror.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
The ceremony was quick and almost painless. Robbie had tried to insist that they couldn't possibly go through with it now. Hathaway was his sergeant, they worked together. They were friends. Gregory stood silently, looking between him and James while Kirkwood insisted that it didn't change anything, and it in fact helped their study. He went off on a tangent to another couple of colleagues about work place relationships and the stress they cause, and stuff Robbie blocked out as he turned pleading eyes on Gregory.
Father Wyden had started going on about friendship being a strong foundation for every successful marriage. Robbie rolled his eyes and looked at James, who was stood with that trade mark smirk painted across his face, leaning back against the registrars table and watching him.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Robbie demanded.
James shrugged, smiling and shaking his head. Robbie sighed and turned away from his young sergeant, catching a glimpse of confusion and discomfort on the poor registrars face, before turning to Gregory.
"We can't do this." he said firmly.
"Well you're free to leave, Mr Lewis..."
"Detective Inspector." he corrected petulantly.
Kirkwood raised an unimpressed brow and continued. "But be assure you'll be hearing from out solicitors. I know Elisabeth informed you of what your departure would mean to this project and..."
"Yeah yeah." Robbie sighed, waving a hand at the man to silence him. "I know." he looked over at James and exhaled a long weary sigh. "You and me will be having words." he warned as he stepped up next to James. "Let's get this over with."
When it was over, Robbie signed his name, stood back and watched as James did the same, then took the marriage certificate from the registrars and marched furiously out of the office. He was almost to the main door of the town hall when he felt a hand on his arm.
"Sir, Dr Gregory." Hathaway said, halting him.
Robbie turned to see the woman hurrying towards him. He took a breath and closed his eyes, waiting for her approach.
"Robbie." she panted. "I'm sorry."
He sighed, shaking his head. "Like you said, I knew what I was signing up for."
She looked between him and James. "If I'd known you worked together, I..." she trailed off and Robbie could tell from the look on her face that she wouldn't have done anything.
"Its fine, Professor Gregory." James reassured. "You couldn't have known."
Robbie sighed once more and forced a reassuring smile. "He's right." She didn't look particularly convinced, and frankly neither was he. All she'd have to have done was called the station, dropped by. They're jobs weren't top secret.
They all stood in an awkward silent for a few seconds and then Gregory straightened, that mask of professionalism taking her over again. "Well...I suppose we should just try to make the best of it."
Robbie pressed his lips into a tight line to avoid scoffing at her.
"You're aware you'll be expected to cohabit for the next six months."
Robbie glanced over at James. He had to admit that the prospect wasn't half as daunting as it had been an hour ago. Though he had no idea what James was going to be like as a flatmate, at least he knew he wasn't going to have to walk on eggshells and that James wasn't going to run roughshod over his home.
She held out a paper bag to him, but James took it before he could react. "We want you to keep a video diary each. There's a video camera and tapes. There's also a book of tasks and questions we'd like you do fill in." she smiled apologetically as Robbie. "We'll meet each week, on Fridays at 7pm, bring the tapes with you and we'll provide you with fresh ones."
Robbie gave her a sharp nod. "Is that everything?" he asked sharply.
Gregory looked between the pair and exhaled a long breath. "Yes."
Robbie turned to leave, but was stopped once more by Gregory. "Robbie, thank you. I mean it." she smiled. "You saved a lot of people's hard work by doing this."
Robbie stared at her, then surrendered. "We'll see you on Friday, Professor."
They left the town hall in silence, James strolling casually at his side. "No one at work can know about this." Robbie announced suddenly as they reached into their car.
"Of course sir." Hathaway grumbled.
Robbie climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door, James following suit a second later. "Obviously you'll be moving into mine." he said as he started the car. "I have a sofa bed."
"Since when?" James frowned. He'd only been at Robbie's a week ago.
"It was delivered yesterday." he shot James a look out of the side of his eyes and saw the younger officer smirking again. "Stop that."
"I'm not doing anything, sir." James insisted.
"You're grinning, this is not funny."
"I disagree, sir."
Robbie turned to glower at him, then shook his head and found himself grinning. "Why didn't you tell me you'd sighed up for this?"
"Why didn't you?"
Robbie shrugged. He actually had no idea why he hadn't told James, or Laura for that matter. "Embarrassment."
Hathaway stared down at his hands folded in his lap. "Same."
They sat in silence for a long few minutes, listening to the traffic roll past before Robbie started the engine. "I think we could both use a drink."
"Excellent idea, sir."
With his hands around the wheel and his foot on the brake, Robbie looked at James. "You can't keep calling me, sir, James. We're married now, you're going to have to start getting used to calling me Robbie. At least outside the office."
James looked at him for a moment then nodded. "Alright, Robbie."
Robbie smiled and pulled out into traffic. Yeah, this wasn't going to be half as bad as he'd expected.
_March: I'm Gonna March You Down The Aisle_
Robbie set the new sheets on the shelf of his hall closet and stepped back, examining it. He'd cleared as much space as he was able. If he'd had a larger flat, or at least a second bedroom not of this would be necessary. Trouble was he didn't. The property bubble had burst just before it became necessary to sell the house. Meaning he'd lost money rather than gained it. He'd had enough to pay off Val's funeral bills and find somewhere small, this place, when he'd gotten back from the holiday Lyn had forced him to go on.
So regretfully James was stuck with spending the next six months on the couch, and hanging his suits in the now empty broom closet. The hover having been shifted to the corner of his bedroom. He'd already warned James during their afternoon at the pub. - Their wedding reception, James had jokingly called it. Robbie hadn't been amused at first, but as the afternoon rolled on he'd felt his frustration and anger seep away.
James had eventually told him why he'd gone in for the experiment in the first place. After, of course, he'd weaselled Robbie's reasons out of him. Apparently a friend had called in a favour, or so he said. It wasn't that Robbie didn't believe him, per se, but rather...he didn't believe him. He'd gotten pretty blood good at reading the lad over the past three, almost four years. He knew when he was hiding something, but he also knew not to push for answers. When he did, James shut down completely. The lad would tell him when he was ready.
At eight o'clock his bell rang and Robbie's stomach dropped as he headed to answer it. Hathaway was stood on his front step, a holdall hanging from one shoulder, a suit carrier from the other and his guitar case in his left hand. Robbie smiled welcomingly and stepped back from the door. James brushed past him. Like Robbie, he'd stripped out of his suit and was now dresses casually in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. "Is that all you have?" Robbie asked, closing the door behind his new house guest.
"It's all I need." James replied matter-of-factly, hovering uncertainly in the communal hall. "I thought it might look...suspicious if I showed up with more."
They'd spent the afternoon also discussing how they were going to keep work from discovering their temporary marriage. Lord only knew what Chief Superintendent Innocent would do if she found out. Not to mention the crap James would get from the rest of the station. He already had a hard time fitting among the lad, without rumours of sleeping with the boss circulating.
In the end they decided to just take it a day at a time. If, or when, anyone found out James was living with him, they'd just say his flat was being refurbished or there was some other emergency and Robbie had offered him the use of his couch. If they didn't make a big deal out of it, neither, hopefully, would anyone else.
"Alright in you come." Robbie ordered, leading James into ground floor flat in the converted Victorian semi-detected he'd been living in for almost two years now. "Bathroom," he gestured to the door on his left. "My room." He nodded right. He paused at the hall closet, yanking it open. "You can keep your things in here." when he turned, James was grinning at him. Robbie rolled his eyes. "Shut up and dump your stuff."
While James hung up his suits and stashed away his other stuff, Robbie headed off to the kitchen. "Tea?"
"No thank you, sir." James called from the hall, only to appear at the breakfast bar a few seconds later.
"What did I tell you about the sir?"
"Sorry, habit." he smiled apologetically.
Robbie rolled his eyes and went about making himself a cup of tea. "There's beer in the fridge." he glanced over to James when the man didn't move, his brow raised questioningly.
"Uh, I..." James cleared his throat. "I know it's our wedding night, Robbie but..." he chuckled when Robbie glowered at him, unamused."...I'm meant to be meeting up with the band. We have to practice for a show next weekend."
Robbie turned, leaning back on the kitchen counter and folding his arms. "So that's how it's going to be is it?" he scoffed. "Me sat at home while you go running around the city playing music and getting drunk?"
James smirked and shrugged.
"What would you have done if it hadn't have been me waltzing into the office this morning?" he wondered.
James dropped his gaze to the counter in front of him and sighed. "I don't know." he replied coolly. "Professor Gregory had already told me that my match wasn't interested in a relationship with a man, so I didn't really expect anything." he looked up finally, meeting Robbie's gaze. There was a smile on his face but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "So I figured there, you, weren't going to care that much if I carried on living my life."
Robbie watched him silently, and James watched right back. The sound of the kettle switching off startled Robbie out of their staring contest, and he pushed himself off the counter. "Well, you right, there's no reason we can't just carry on as if none of this is actually happening. - So have a good time." he dismissed, reaching for a cup.
It was a long few seconds before James eventually moved away from the kitchen counter and headed for the front door.
"Oh James!" Robbie suddenly yelled, remembering he hadn't given James the spare key.
"Yes?" the young blond said, half way back to the kitchen when Robbie appeared in the hall.
"Here." he tossed the set of keys to his sergeant. "Lock up when you get in."
James looked down at his hand then up at Robbie. "I won't be late."
"Whatever, lad, this is your place too. For now at least." Robbie shrugged, smiling briefly before going back to his tea. He was fetching the milk when the front door closed. Alone once more, he finished making his tea then carried it over to the new couch and settled in for an evening with Gary Linker.