Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again...

Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am young again...

The One - chapter 6

Tuesday

Exhausted and more than a little pissed-off Robbie audibly sighed in relief when he pushed his key into the lock and opened the door to his flat, throwing his jacket over a chair and loosening his tie.

He could hear the blur of the television coming from the lounge and headed in that direction, finding himself cheered a little by her presence. She was curled on the couch, in her pyjamas and a dressing gown, with, what looked like, a hot chocolate in her hand.

"Hi," she smiled, glancing at him as he came in.

"Hi yourself," he sank into the chair across from her. "How you feeling today?"

"Not too bad, still some dizziness, the nurse visited and increased my dosage so I'm as high as a kite too."

"Excellent. Sorry didn't catch you this morning; boss wanted us in at 6:00." He pulled his tie off throwing it to the coffee table.

"That's fine, fill me in on the details, did you interview this Tom character?"

"Not got hold of him yet, had me chasing around all bloody day. I'm starving, you eaten?"

"Mmm, hours ago, yours is in the oven," she said almost coyly.

He rolled his eyes, sitting forward, "What did I tell you about cooking? There's no need."

"I'm so damned bored, did you realise how many cooking shows are on daytime TV?"

"Too many obviously," he opened the oven door and smiled gratefully at the plate of casserole and mashed-potato. "Did you forget there's only two of us eating here?" He called over from the kitchenette as he warmed the food in the microwave.

"I over-guessed the amount of potatoes I'd need. Throw it away if you don't want it."

"As if," he returned to the chair, resting his plate on a newspaper on his lap. "Proper meal. Heaven."

"You have such small expectations."

"Something which stands me in good stead I find," he mumbled between chews. "Want some wine?"

"I can't can I." She watched him eat, finding it oddly satisfying. "Can't you tell me a little about the case, bring some more files home for me or anything. I'll even sit here and watch CCTV if I need to. I'm so damned bored."

"You're supposed to be resting, wasn't a simple sprained ankle you know."

"I'm not used to having time on my hands."

"I wish I had some at the moment." He stared at her face, "Ya scars are practically gone."

"Thank god, can you imagine me walking round for the rest of my life with a pirate sized slash down my cheek. Hardly gonna win me admirers."

"You'd do fine."

She smiled, "You're nice to me when I'm ill."

"I'm always nice to you!" He spluttered, cutlery held in mid-air.

"Hmm, I'll remind you of that line in a few months time." She yawned. "This stuff knocks me out; I slept for hours this afternoon."

The thought of her sleeping on his couch made him feel oddly warm inside, usually he'd brush such feelings aside, but recently he'd begun to embrace them, let them be. It was the same feeling he got when he saw her sat there in pyjamas, nothing fancy or sexy about it, just a sense of normality he actually quite liked.

"And they make me constantly need the loo," she moved her legs out from under her and down to the floor, "too much information right."

"Well..." he shrugged, pushing his half empty plate onto the coffee table. "Gonna get a beer. You mind if I check the football?"

"Nope, your TV."

"Don't wanna interrupt your show."

"I was just flicking through really; I'm getting hooked on television, save me." She went to stand then fell back again, hand gripping her forehead. "Oh god I hate this," she moaned.

He moved to kneel in front of her, holding her free hand. "Dizzy?"

"Moved too quickly, I forget I need to warm my body up now, a good ten minutes of thinking about it before making the move."

He laughed, always such a dry wit never mind the circumstances.

"I keep telling you not to rush it, wasn't long ago."

"Days and days." She opened her eyes, the sudden nausea dissipating and the fuzz behind her eyes beginning to clear. His hand squeezed hers, "I hate this." She repeated.

He smiled, compassionate, "I know. Won't be forever."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He leant forward and kissed her forehead, the move at once regretted. He quickly sat back on his heels, slightly embarrassed, "You want me to erm, help you up?"

"Please." She said gently, noting his discomfort at the sudden intimacy of the moment.

He held her hands and supported her weight as she stood, trembling for a moment and then steadying as her body adjusted to being upright.

"Okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, will be." She made her way to the bathroom, realising he was watching every unsteady step she took.

He was laughing uncontrollably, lying on the lounge floor in front of the television, almost rolling around in agony at the tightness in his stomach.

"How the hell do they get away with that?" Jackie asked, a huge grin on her face, partly from the show and partly from watching him laugh, like some kid down there.

"No idea," he moved to sit up, wiping his eyes as he did so. "Bloody great though."

"Why does the kid in the orange zip-up thing always end up dead? How does he come back every episode?"

"It's a cartoon Jacks, don't over-analyse. You want another drink?" He asked as he passed her lying on the couch.

"No I'm fine, I need to go to bed, my eyes won't stay open for much longer. Can you help me up?"

"Sure," he put his whisky aside, went back to her and knelt down, watching as she got herself into a sitting position.

"I'd say sleep here but not sure it would be great for your back."

"Me neither. Plus, you'll wake me when you leave here at dawn."

"Alright, rub it in."

"I have so few pleasures; need to make the most of it." Her hand was on his upper arm steadying herself, he found he rather liked the contact.

"Okay?" He asked, her face close to his as she leant forward.

"Yeah," she looked up, her eyes meeting his.

Her gaze was so pure and clear, drawing him in, he found himself leaning forward without thought, just a natural thing, his lips tenderly brushing hers. It could almost have been a goodnight gesture were it not for the fact that it didn't stop.

The soft flick of his mouth against hers and she was closing her eyes in response. Then a gentle pressure, her mouth touching his in return, lips still closed, a tender, affectionate kiss as they sat their holding one another. Her hand still gripping his arm, both of his hands at her waist supporting her.

As the kiss deepened one of her hands slid up to his face, over his cheek, fingers curling into his hair. She felt his hand brush up her back, pulling her closer to him and as he did his mouth opening to deepen the kiss. Again she responded, returning the embrace, allowing her tongue to meet his. Too soon this gentle, unplanned kiss was becoming an out-of-control moment of passion. He was moaning into her mouth, she was leaning back on the couch, his body moving over hers. She realised how awkward it might look, her sat back and him having to hold his body up to lean back with her.

The kiss seemed without thought. Frantic and eager as they alternated between long, drawn out pleasure and quick, testing kisses. She groaned in pleasure as he moved down to her neck, whispering his name in response.

Then it stopped.

He drew back, returning to kneeling in front of her. She sat forward, still supported by his hands holding her. He was looking at the floor.

"Oh shit." He muttered, then quickly got up, rubbing his forehead. "Shit, shit, shit!" He stomped into the kitchen, downing the whisky he'd poured in one.

"What was that?" She asked, her disappointment quickly replaced with flaring anger.

"Shouldn't have done it." He said, still not looking at her.

She gripped the side of the couch and pulled herself up. "No, you can't just do that, you can't do that Robbie." She followed him, cornered him in the kitchen.

"We shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" She was getting upset, despite trying her damndest not too. Her voice was clouded with emotion, eyes stinging with tears being forced back. "Why? You can't just kiss me like that," she gestured back to the couch, "and then walk off and say it was a mistake."

"It was. It is. Ruined everything."

"Ruined what? Almost fifteen years of stringing me along."

"I've never!"

"Haven't you." She was so angry; she couldn't quite understand just why it felt so raw, like she was flaring red at him. "Haven't you flirted with me every day since we met? Led me to believe you actually fancied me."

"Jackie, that's not why it's wrong."

"Then why? Work?"

"I'll fuck it up, I'm no good at relationships and you don't want one-night-stands and we've been friends for years and..."

"..Oh, oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you're still mentally 22 without a care in the world." She turned, heading across the room and towards the bedroom, trying to put distance between them before she cried. "You don't just kiss somebody like that and then shout 'Shit!' Robbie, it's hardly fair. These past two weeks I'd really begun to think you weren't the selfish bastard I always took you for!" She said before slamming the bedroom door.

He slammed his own fist on the counter in response, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

She'd got used to the flat now; in the darkness she could navigate her way to the bathroom or kitchen without tripping over a single item. For hours she'd tried to sleep but her mind wouldn't settle. Around 2 she'd given up and gone to the kitchen for a glass of water, sitting on the couch to drink it.

She sat sideways, the plastered leg out in front of her, the other curled back beneath her, her arm draped along the back of the couch as she looked out over the city. He had such a wonderful view here.

All seemed still and silent and she wondered how something that seemed so tranquil could hide such horrors. Night after night unthinkable acts were taken place that one of them would no doubt have to deal with the following day.

She was startled by a movement behind her and twisted her head a little, Robbie was standing by his door watching her, in nothing more than pyjama bottoms. She drew in a tight breath, not quite ready to talk to him yet and certainly not ready to see him half-naked.

Turning her attention back to the window she decided to ignore him, hoping he'd just heard a noise and was checking it out and would go back to bed.

He walked towards her, feet padding softly on the carpet until he was by her side.

"What?" She asked without looking at him.

He didn't reply.

She turned her head to look at him, "What Robbie? I couldn't sleep, needed a drink. Don't worry I'll leave tomorrow, I'm sure I can cope now and the pot should be off soon."

She was surprised when he knelt on the couch beside her, taking the glass from her hand and putting it aside.

"Don't," she whispered as his mouth got closer to hers and for a brief second he stopped and took in her expression.

It was she who closed the distance, pulling him into the kiss, deep and hot and instantly over-powering.

He gently laid her back on the couch, his body covering hers, at first tentative but as she gripped his shoulders and pulled his body to hers he moved much more freely. His fingers sliding down to the tie on her robe, parting it, and then quickly sliding his hand up her top, smooth creamy skin greeting his palm.

She already had the joy of his naked torso on top of her; she dug her nails into his back, partly out of lust, partly as revenge for his earlier action.

"Don't stop this time," she whispered as his mouth moved to her neck.

He smirked against her skin; it seemed somewhat unlikely given how her leg was already wrapped around him and the need to thrust was already taken over his lower body.

He slid her robe off, quickly disposed of her top and then paused, leaning back on one arm to look down at her. How her pale skin seemed to shine in the moonlight, the full breasts, the curve of her belly.

"You're beautiful," he marvelled, fingertips tracing down from her neck to the valley between her breasts.

She smiled, "Knew you'd be a charmer ..."

He returned the smile, but he meant it, she was beautiful. And he regretted the fact he'd waited until now to tell her, regretted the fact other men had seen this and yet treated her so badly. He vowed not to. Never to hurt her. Never to let her down again.

"I nearly lost you," he murmured, lost in his own musings.

"Hey," she said, resting her hand against his face. "I'm right here."

He looked to her face, brought his mouth down to meet hers in a sweet, intense kiss.

She was pushing his trousers down with one hand and a foot, impatient he thought with a grin. He got up, reluctantly, from the couch and disposed of them. Not in the least bothered about standing there naked in front of her. She squirmed a little on the couch, hands out, reaching for him.

Instead, he bent slightly, hooked one arm under her back and the other behind her thighs as he lifted her up. She met his mouth, drawing him into another kiss as he headed towards his bedroom with her in his arms.

"Watch my leg," she muttered as they turned into his room.

He gently placed her down on the bed; the sheets beneath her were still warm from where he'd been sleeping and smelt overwhelmingly of him.

As many times as she'd wondered about this over the years, and she had, she'd always had trouble working out how they'd negotiate the boundary between friends and lovers, believing it too difficult, too awkward, to really be done. But now the moment was here it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Robbie was kissing her breasts, hands cupping and sliding along her skin like fire on ice. His lips moved to her stomach and she closed her eyes as his fingers toyed with the tie on her pyjama bottoms.

He knew every part of her it seemed, having her there with him day after day had heightened their already tight bond, magnified their intimacy. He knew how she slept, how she moved, how often she drank tea or added salt to her food, the shampoo she used, the way she folded towels... it all seemed so very important now, learning her completely.

"This is awkward," he whispered, getting to his knees as he drew her trousers carefully down, manoeuvring them over the pot.

She leant up, leaning on her elbows to watch him, "Could be interesting too..." she smiled delicately, no nerves, no catches, this was natural.

"We'll make it work," he said with a part reassuring and part tender smile.

She didn't doubt him.

As his mouth trailed down between her legs, easing her good leg up and supporting her thigh with his hand she let herself drift back. Eyes closed, head melting into the softness of his pillow. This was no time to question it, no time to be female and wonder what it meant and where it would go and how they'd overcome the problems... Enjoy it for once, she told herself, gasping as his tongue hit the right spot. If she focussed on the fact it was Robbie doing this, and not just any other man, it would terrify her. Not only seeing her naked after so long but god seeing down there, knowing her that way...

But he was too good; there was no rational thought left for questioning and worrying.

She'd always seen oral sex as foreplay, something a guy did for a few minutes to get you in the right mood, make you more receptive. It was always very nice but now, this... god... her body was jerking up off the bed towards him, fists clutching the bed sheets and lips tingling as she bit them to stifle her moans.

It seemed to go on and on, delicious and delirious, delicate and then the deep, intense fire sweeping up through her body and then back down as he plunged her into euphoria.

She found herself whispering his name, begging him not to stop, all the things she hated and viewed as so very cliché she was doing. One hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder and then back gripping the sheets. She had her leg wrapped around his back for goodness sake almost trapping him.

And then, then he let it complete, magical fingers and well-practiced moves and she was screaming her pleasure. And god it had been so very long.

With a satisfied smile he kissed his way back up her body, taking his time toying with her nipples, licking her neck and then finally meeting her mouth.

"I think you needed that," he said very gently, lying at the side of her, stroking her skin.

Her breathing was still deep and erratic, skin flushed. His fingers folded with hers and she finally smiled up at him, "I think I did. You're very good at that."

"Surprised?"

"No, I guess not. I'd always wondered..."

"And I'd always wondered if you'd ever wondered..."

"Pair of idiots." She yawned, eyes drifting closed, "I can sleep now."

She laughed at his expression, slapping his bare chest.

"You look so hurt."

"We can't do that and then just stop!"

She did her best to twist to her side; her body pressed so close to his. "Why, do you think there's a little something more?"

"Much, much more." He said bringing his mouth to hers.

"You see," she mumbled between kisses, "this is why we never kissed before, couldn't stop where it led."

"Don't what to stop," he said in return.

Touching her was like finding some way into heaven and he no intention of simply letting it pass by.

Hope you enjoyed that...