Thank you for taking the time to read and review my incoherent ramblings. And for your patience with my two non-communicators... well, mostly Robbie. In his defence, he's not had quite as long to get his act together as series 7 Robbie. Whilst I know (vaguely!) where this is going, I am writing it as I post it, so I really enjoy reading and thinking about your views.


A grilling from Innocent on the case forensics was a welcome, if highly unusual, reprieve from the awkwardness in the corridor. Laura settled into her groove, fielding Innocent's questions with ease and her customary animation. 'Morbid fascination' Robbie called it…

… damn. She was thinking about him again.

"I did explain all of this to Lewis and Hathaway." Laura finished.

"I'm sure you did." Innocent said, good-naturedly. "I just thought, with them two tied up with the bishop earlier, I'd go straight to the horse's mouth. We've had the press sniffing around – 'silly season' tends to get them frisky in the summer – they're desperate for even the slightest whiff of a headline - and I just wanted to have my facts straight before I speak to them."

"Of course." Laura could count the number of times she'd seen inside Innocent's office on one hand. Perhaps there was more to this case than the Chief Super was letting on. "Well, I'll be getting off."

"Thank you, Dr Hobson." Innocent began to busy herself with the papers on her desk. As Laura's hand grasped the doorknob, Innocent spoke again, "I'd like Lewis to take another look at that head wound with you, if that's OK. We're still had no sign of the murder weapon and maybe you two might be able to put your heads together on it."

"Er…" Laura hesitated: her report already held everything she had to say on the matter.

Innocent looked up; her smile saccharine-sweet, "Just to make sure we've covered every angle and…" She paused and looked pointedly at Laura, "ensure you're both on the same page."

"If you think that would help..."

"I think it would help Lewis. A lot."

Laura masked her confusion with a slow nod. "Right..."

"Thanks again, Doctor Hobson. I'll send him down to the mortuary in a bit."

Innocent's attention turned swiftly back to her paperwork, but Laura swore she could perceive a faint smirk on the Chief Super's lips.

Baffled, she left the office.


Lewis appeared in the mortuary an hour later, looking somewhat sheepish, but behaving as professionally as he could. He explained his presence and seemed surprised that Laura had been expecting him.

"Jean told me she wanted us to talk." Laura ventured, her face flushing as she hurriedly added, "about the head injuries on the priest."

"Yes." Robbie seemed as a bewildered as she was.

Somehow they managed to conduct a review according to Innocent's wishes. After a short time, they each began to relax into the familiarity of discussing a case, eventually resuming eye contact, the initial tension easing.

The discussion concluded without a miraculous breakthrough on the case, but with a noticeable thaw in the air between them.

"Thanks, Laura." Robbie said, genuinely. "It's been good to talk things through."

"Hmm." Laura mused, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at him, communicating her suspicion that the past fifteen minutes had been a rather a waste of time, professionally speaking.

He took a deep intake of breath.

"If you don't mind... I think there are a few more things I'd like to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"Things not to do with a bludgeoned priest…." Robbie vainly attempted gallows humour, but then thought better of it, his face suddenly becoming serious. "Things I should have said to you before." He lowered his voice.

Laura swallowed and nodded.

"Are you free this evening?"

These were words she always loved to hear from Robbie, yet today they seemed somewhat ominous.

"Um… yeah."

"Good." He attempted a smile. "Innocent's given me two tickets to a cello recital at Malvern College - she and her husband can't make it. I thought we could talk… properly… over a pint afterwards?"

Laura hesitated. In any other scenario, this would be a date. Yet the look on Robbie's face suggested otherwise. She fought back a monumental sigh – the butterflies in her stomach she would ordinarily have at the thought of seeing him socially were notably absent, but the familiar ache for him was definitely as insistent as ever. Their last attempt at talking had not gone well and her instinct told her that she wasn't going to like what Robbie had to say this time either. Yet, she was helpless to her unswerving need to oblige him, to be there for him – even at her own expense.

"OK."

"Great. I'll pick you up at 7."

"Fine."

He looked at her strangely. For once, she couldn't quite read his expression. Then he turned to leave before pausing in the doorway.

"Thanks, Laura."

'What for?"

"For giving me another chance to explain."


Robbie had never been one for speeches. His usual form of address was simple, straight-talk. However, he was well aware that this particular situation required more of him. On the journey home from work to change before collecting Laura, he tried to rehearse what he had to say to her. It kept coming out wrong. He swore in frustration.

How is it that I know exactly what to say to a worthless suspect in an interview room, but I can't even begin to find the right words for her?

With alarming speed, he found himself standing outside Laura's front door.

"Evening." She opened it, releasing a gentle onslaught of perfume upon his senses. The scent hit him with almost physical force, conjuring up a recent but hazy image of her in a softly lit room. He blinked it away.

"Hello." He forced a smile.

Laura stepped out of the house to join him on the front step and turned to lock the front door. Robbie found himself standing too close to her, trying to ignore the exposed nape of her neck as she bent to put the key into the lock. Involuntarily, he recalled the touch of his lips in that exact place, his nose in her hair. Once more, the smell of her made him feel unsteady.

He practically pounced off the step away from her. "Ready?" He chirped, with false cheer.

"Yep." She smiled hesitantly up at him, her face fresh with the subtle effort she placed into an evening out. She looked utterly and achingly beautiful and, in spite of everything, Robbie found himself lingering over their eye contact.

Who could resist this? You fool, Robert Lewis. You fool.

He tore himself away and walked ahead to the car so he could open the passenger door for her.

Laura filled the journey with chatter, sensing, as she always did, his frame of mind. He was grateful to her, as ever. Yet, inside she felt wretched – it was now clear what he was building up to say to her. She just wanted it to be over and not have to sit through an entire music recital by his side: feeling the warm proximity of him yet knowing he could not be further away.

As they paused outside the porter's lodge to ask for directions to the college chapel, a group of rowdy, alcohol-fuelled summer students surged past them, man-handling an upturned punt, no doubt 'borrowed' from the river, onto the streets of Oxford. The space was not nearly big enough for the clumsy crowd and their cargo and Laura and Robbie were forced back against the wall. Instinctively, Robbie placed himself between her and the unwieldy boat and in doing so, inadvertently found himself with one arm around her – meant as a shield but suddenly feeling very much like something else.

Laura's cheeks flushed as her body reacted to his hold in a way her mind did not approve of. For a millisecond, she tortured herself with the cloudy but potent memory of the last time they were this close. She shut her eyes in a vain attempt to ward off the intense magnetism she felt towards him.

The students were failing spectacularly to manouvre the boat through the narrow door cut in the larger college gate and were being berated loudly by the porter, who was trying to open the bolts of the gate. Robbie gingerly withdrew his arm, but they remained pinned together.

"Sorry… I… er…" He began, speaking softly downwards to the top of her head.

"It's OK, Robbie." She murmured for what seemed like the millionth time in their friendship. She tried her very best to ignore the warmth of his body next to hers and the desperate longing for him to replace his arm around her.

With an ear-splitting cheer the students finally grappled the boat through the widened gate and spilled out onto the street.

As Robbie stepped backwards and the contact was lost, Laura steeled herself for an evening she was certain she was not going to enjoy.