"Worth Saving"

Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd strode into the building of the Cold Case Headquarters. It had been a difficult case, the one his team had just finished working on, and he felt a certain satisfaction that they had managed to solve it successfully. Both brothers had been arrested for murder and would now await trial, although whether or not they would stand in the dock would probably depend upon their psychiatric assessments. Boyd sighed as he pushed open the door to the main meeting room. Bloody psychologists. He stopped in his tracks as he noticed the soft light filtering from her office to his right. He could see her through the glass panes, sitting on her couch, one slim leg crossed over the other, head buried in a file. He was surprised at the sudden, warm sensations he felt across his chest as he looked at her, sitting there as if she'd never been away. He tapped on the door and opened it.

"Hi." He said, softly.

Grace Foley looked up and smiled at him. "Hi." She replied.

"Can I come in?" Boyd asked.

Grace nodded silently and he felt relief wash over him as he walked into her office and sat down heavily beside her.

"How did you get on?" She asked.

"Hmm?"

She gestured with the file she was holding. "Well, I presume you just went to arrest the brother, didn't you?"

He frowned. "God, Stella really kept you up to speed, didn't she?"

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Boyd?"

"No…Just, if you wanted to contribute, you could have done it here, that's all, instead of channelling yourself through Stella."

She looked amused. "Channelling myself?"

"You know what I mean."

"You know why I couldn't be here, Boyd."

He sighed deeply and let the silence between them elongate before replying. "Can we talk, Grace?"

"About?"

He turned his head to look at her. "About before."

She closed her eyes briefly but not before he registered the pain that flashed through them. "Yeah. I think it might be a good idea."

He paused again, suddenly uncertain and he ran a hand through his silver hair in frustration. "I just…I don't know where to start." He admitted.

She shook her head. "The ball's in your court, you know."

He sighed and stood up, beginning to pace before her. "Yeah, I know but…it's not easy for me, this sort of thing, Grace."

Grace sat back against the couch, folding her hands serenely in her lap. He gave her a resigned smile as he looked at her.

"And you're not going to make it any easier, are you?" He asked.

"Wasn't planning on it, no."

His smile broadened before he sobered once more and he stopped pacing to lean against the edge of her desk. "I'm sorry, Grace. I'm so sorry." He said finally.

She sighed shakily, the sincerity of his words a balm to her battered feelings. "Oh, Boyd." She managed, her voice barely a whisper.

"All those things I said, the way I've treated you lately. It's inexcusable. And I don't expect you to forgive me." His tone was flat.

"Well, it wasn't all a one-way street, was it. I said some pretty bloody awful things myself."

He shrugged. "You were just trying to make me see sense."

"I was trying to make you see that I'm not super-woman, Boyd. That all this repressed grief you've got is manifesting itself as irritability and frustration, aimed in my direction." She paused and looked down at her hands, her throat constricted. "I meant what I said about not being able to handle that anymore."

"I know." He sighed. "I know. You shouldn't have to handle it."

"But I shouldn't have been so personal in what I said. All that stuff about you being alone and isolated…" She broke off, unable to vocalise the other word she had used in their argument. Un-loved.

The expression in his dark eyes told her he was also thinking about her omitted word. "It's all right." He said.

Grace shook her head. "No, it isn't. I was upset and I was angry but that doesn't excuse it."

"Grace…"

"I'm sorry." She murmured softly.

They were quiet then, each alone with their thoughts before Boyd broke the silence once more.

"So, what do we do about this, then?" He gestured to the space between them and she assumed he was indicating their relationship. "Will you come back to work?"

Grace sighed. "It's conditional on you getting help, Boyd."

He opened his mouth to protest but stopped himself as he noted her expression. "What kind of help?"

"Psychotherapy, maybe…definitely grief counselling…"

"No more of that anger management nonsense though, Grace, please."

She smiled slightly. "Well, it didn't seem to help you much before, that's true."

He frowned. "I hate talking to counsellors, you know."

"Maybe you just need to find one you're comfortable with. I know a lot of people, Boyd…"

He groaned and shook his head. Grace stood up from the couch and moved to stand before him.

"Why are you so resistant?" She asked gently.

"Because I…I don't know, it…" He broke off, frustrated by his own inability to express himself. "It doesn't seem real to me when I'm talking to a counsellor. Like that damn anger management woman, she just didn't…" He shook his head.

"Didn't what? Didn't 'get' you?"

He smiled. "Something like that."

"So you try another therapist. One who's specially trained in grief counselling…"

"What are they going to tell me that I don't already know, though?"

"You'd be surprised." She paused. "You're in denial about a lot of things, Boyd."

"Aren't we all, though, to a certain extent?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so…"

"So, it's a normal human condition then?"

Grace shook her head. "The level you're at, Boyd, it's…it's not healthy. It's damaging you and it's affecting how you interact with other people."

He sighed deeply. "Yeah."

"Let me help you, Boyd. I can find a therapist who I think is suitable and I can set up all the appointments, all you'd have to do is turn up to them."

"And you'd trust me to do that?"

Grace shrugged. "Well, ultimately, the decision to attend the sessions is yours, I can't force you but…put it this way, I'd be very hesitant about coming back to work with you unless I know you're getting help."

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Is that an ultimatum, Dr. Foley?"

"Think of it more as a gentle push in the right direction."

His smile broadened. "All right."

Grace looked relieved. "Good. I'll get onto it first thing in the morning."

She moved to walk away from him then but his hand on her shoulder stopped her and she stifled a surprised gasp as he pulled her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his waist as his hands began to stroke the full length of her back, his head moving to nestle in the crook of her shoulder.

"Thank you." He murmured against her neck. "I know I don't deserve it."

Grace felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes at his admission and she pulled him closer, letting her own head rest on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek.

"You're more than welcome." Her words were slightly muffled against his shirt. "And of course you deserve it."

Momentarily, he raised his head and pressed his lips gently to her hair, inhaling her scent as he did so, subtle notes of citrus and jasmine. Oh, I missed you…The thought struck him suddenly and he blinked in surprise at the intensity of the emotions flooding his senses.

She looked up and smiled at him then, warmth radiating from her face. "It'll be all right, you know."

He returned her smile, wishing he shared her confidence. "I hope so."

"You're worth saving, Boyd. You've got to start believing it."

He felt the kindness of her words overwhelm him and he squeezed her closer again, enjoying the feel of her slender body flush against his, thrilled by her total lack of resistance.

"Grace?" He asked finally, after several moments had gone by.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to get a drink?"

She raised her head to look at him, his simple question not altogether unusual but she felt something stir within her as she took in his expression.

"That would be nice."

He grinned. "Get your coat, then."

She laughed as she disentangled herself from his arms and moved to retrieve her coat from its stand, pulling it around her shoulders. Boyd watched her from his perch on the desk as she knotted her scarf about her neck then, her pale skin disappearing beneath a swirl of tangerine fabric.

She felt his eyes on her and looked up across the room at him.

"What?" She asked, her expression puzzled.

He gazed at her in the soft light of the office, coat draped about her shoulders so he could still see the clothes underneath that accentuated her gentle curves, her sapphire eyes curious as she frowned at him, her full lips slightly parted. Christ, she's beautiful, he thought, feeling peace wash over him at the realisation. Maybe that's one layer of denial down, then…

"Boyd?" She prompted, breaking him from his reverie.

"Yeah, sorry." He mumbled before pushing away from the desk and walking towards her. "Let's go."

She gave him another questioning glance and walked out of the door ahead of him, leaving Boyd to switch off the light, plunging the office into darkness. He followed her down the corridor, his thoughts beginning to wander once more. He knew he was facing a difficult journey, that admitting his mistakes and coming to terms with events in his past would be painful but, somehow, his heart felt light. You're worth saving, Boyd. He smiled. With her help, he knew he might eventually believe it.