Dempsey looked around at the sofa and single arm chair that seemed to provide their nights resting places. "You can have the sofa Harry" he offered happily, he wanted to do that for her.

Harry grinned and walked across the room, she seemed to flick her wrist and the sofa sprung open to reveal a bed. She scrambled under one of the revealed sections and pulled out a pillow and quilt.

"Whoa, that's more comfort than I thought I was conceding" Dempsey admitted "And how come you're such an expert at the wrist flicking?"

"I've done it a few times before" Harry was coy and before he thought not to ask the question had left his mouth "So you and Tom? Didn't you?" he knew he'd asked the wrong question before she replied "That has nothing to do with you"

He actually looked sheepish, Harry still tingling from his enveloping embraces was very ready to forgive "but as it happens no, is the answer"

Dempsey looked away not wanting to say or show the wrong response.

Suddenly Harry swore "Damn, damn, damn"

"What?"

"The few items of clothing I brought over with me are all in the bedroom where I can't get them"

"So what's the problem?" Dempsey genuinely failed to understand.

"I can't sleep in this dress" she was amazed at his ignorance

"So take it off"

"And do what? Stand in front of you naked?"

So nearly did Dempsey say he'd love her to do that or similar but he managed to bite his tongue realising in time, this time, that such a comment would go down like a lead balloon. He pulled the tie that had been hanging loose for the past few hours out from under the collar and undid his shirt buttons. As he pulled the shirt tails out from his trousers Harry asked him what on earth he was doing but he just looked at her and slipped the shirt off. Harry looked at his shoulders and strong chest, he passed the shirt to her and as she took it she looked confused.

"I think you might find that's an original night shirt Sergeant" She looked at him surprised and just stood there a moment. "Well go on" he said, "You can use the bathroom first"

As Harry changed Dempsey decided that the best solution was for one of them to keep watch. He was more concerned about the next few hours, the early hours of the morning, than later so he decided to take first watch.

Harry returned and hung her dress over a kitchen chair. She looked bloody good he thought, hot and spicy, very hot. He nearly choked on his words "It's One o'clock now; I suggest you sleep a while then you can take over the watch from me about 4 or so and let me get a bit of beauty sleep, that ok with you Sergeant?"

Harry looked at him standing there in his vest "You'll get cold like that" she didn't let him answer; another fish deep into the bed storage enabled her to retrieve a blanket.

He poured himself a whisky and wrapped the blanket around him and sat in the armchair. Harry paused then threw the pillow to the head of the bed and arranged the quilt over her as she lay down. Dempsey watched her legs fold elegantly out of sight and he turned the light off "Good night Tinkerbelle" he said tenderly.

The soft tone warmed Harry and she smelt his aftershave on the shirt she was wearing, in the dark she touched her cheek where he had kissed it and closed her eyes. There was no time to dream, she was asleep.

Dempsey on the other hand had 3 hours or so to re-live that half hour he had spent dancing with Harry: their moves, their touches, her breath flowing over him as she had buried her face into his neck. He wondered how serious Harry and Tom had been; he'd never known a girl of his sleep anywhere other than in his bed with him.

He kept himself awake till 4.20 trying to puzzle everything out. Once again he failed to pin down what had brought him back from his aborted attempt to return to New York . Most superficially it had to be the keys, but what else was it that pulled him back? Harry? Harry the partner? Harry the woman? Harry forever unavailable? How stupid would it be to get involved? What about just friends? Could he do that? Finally, none the wiser, he woke Harry.

As Dempsey gratefully crawled under the duvet and Harry took up watch; she curled herself up in the chair, hoping that that way she could keep her legs warm. The blanket seemed so much thinner than the quilt. She paced around quietly so as not to wake Dempsey as she hunted for and found the heating override. She picked up his jacket and covered her legs with that then pulled the blanket back around again. Now it was her turn to look at the shadows of the room and recall the night's events.

She had seen a different Dempsey last night: a gentle attitude instead of arrogance, soft and understanding instead of demanding but one thing hadn't changed he was always handsome and alluring. Her own fingers ran through her hair, touching her ear and cheek again as she heard him whisper into her ear again. She shivered as she felt again him pulling her body close into his. It took her a time to remember the last song, she was frustrated with herself and she picked up the tape sleeve in the end and read the information; a New York based band – now she saw even more reason as to why he had chosen it. As she read the lyrics in full it was the chorus she really wanted to experience I wanna know what love is, I want you to show me. Yes she missed being in love, but recently there seemed no time for love. As her and Dempsey had held each other, exploring their senses it had seemed that that they actually meant those words as directed to the other; she wondered if that was totally her imagination… or not?