Sparring

Pairing: Grace/Boyd

Rating: PG

Summary: A little ficlet set sometime after Shadowplay.

Author's notes: Special thanks to shadowsamurai83 for the beta

Disclaimer: Waking the Dead belongs to the BBC. Oh well.

"That's rubbish." Boyd tried to look indignant, but couldn't quite pull it off. The debate had been raging since they left CCHQ and continued even as they walked to the lift, each one goading the other. He was having too much fun and suspected that Grace was too.

"It's not. Chelsea had to buy a championship. But you need more than dodgy Russian money," Grace countered. "You need tradition. You need team spirit. You need to touch the 'This is Anfield' sign as you walk onto the pitch. You need to sing 'You'll never walk alone' at the Kop end. Chelsea don't have that. They're Armani suited posers!"

Boyd pressed the lift button. He enjoyed sparring with Grace, whether it was about a case or football, but as he turned back toward her, all thought of what the argument was about disappeared. She looked so beautiful as she passionately defended Liverpool. Her lips reddened and she seemed to grow in size, puffing up, not afraid to challenge him even though he was a bigger than her. It was very alluring. Smiling, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Grace had expected a fierce defence of Roman Abramovich's millions and Chelsea's star studded players, but all she got in return was Boyd looking at her with that incredibly sexy grin of his. Frustrated, she put her hands on her hips. "What?"

"Nothing." Boyd continued to smile but turned back to look at the lift doors. If they were alone in the lift, he'd take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

"Yeah, right," Grace scoffed, not believing it for a second. She snuck a look at Peter from the corner of her eye. He looked so cool, rocking slowly back and forth on his heels as they waited for the lift to come, his eyes firmly fixed on the door. The smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing and what affect the now seemingly contrived argument and his smile had on her. Two could play that game, she thought. She'd just have to break one of their unspoken rules about physical contact while they were at work. If they were alone in the lift, she'd wipe that smile of his face by kissing him.

They didn't have to wait too long. The lift opened and thankfully, it was empty.

After pressing the button for the twenty-third floor and as soon as the doors closed, Peter moved like a flash. Before Grace could do anything, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her passionately, his body ground against hers. He felt her body react almost immediately just as he knew it would. As the kiss deepened, their tongues danced together and her arms grasped him to her just as tightly as he held her. He put everything into that one kiss. All his hopes and dreams were tied to the woman in his arms and he wanted to demonstrate exactly how he felt about her.

Pulling back a little but still holding her around her hips, his voice deep and full of emotion, he stated clearly as he could so she'd have no doubt that he meant it, "I love you, Grace Foley."

Breathless and with her heart pounding, Grace took a moment to regain the power of speech. As her thumb gently removed the lipstick smudge from the corner of his lips, she studied his weathered face. She could almost see the passion and love in his dark brown eyes as he looked at her. The lines on his face showed that like her, he had not had an easy life. Both had their fair share of tragedy and heartbreak but somehow they found each other, but it hadn't been easy. It had taken time and the tragedy of Mel's death before they could both finally admit what they'd known for ages. Their great sense of professionalism and fear of being hurt had stopped them. They realised that they probably needed the time if they were going to make the relationship last. If they'd acted on their mutual attraction in the beginning of their working relationship, she wasn't sure they'd be where they were at the moment.

Their time apart hadn't been completely wasted. Grace remembered some of her dreams that involved a certain very handsome DSI in various scenarios before they'd come together. A psychologist could have had a field day with her, she grinned to herself. Her pulse quickened recalling that when they'd finally come together, her dreams were a pale imitation on the real thing. Peter Boyd had been everything she hoped for and a lot more, and she couldn't get enough of him sometimes. With a shake of her head, she banished those thoughts until the end of the day. If she didn't, there was no way she'd get any work done.

"I know, Peter." Her thumb caressed his cheek and then she drew him down to her and tenderly kissed him. "I love you, too."

Incredibly happy, Peter beamed. He couldn't imagine a day that he'd ever grow tired of hearing her saying that.

The lift dinged as it reached their destination, the twenty-third floor.

Stepping apart, they straightened their clothes and effortlessly switched from lovers to professionals. Their attention turned to their current case as the lift doors opened and they strode out of the lift.

The end.