A/N This chapter is for you MissLala, in honour of your uncanny ability to predict chapter titles!

(i)

The early morning light streamed in from behind the curtains, spotlighting here and there the couple asleep in the bed. It was enough to stir one of them into consciousness. He blinked against the assault of the daylight on his untested eyes. Once initiated to the light, those same eyes fell onto the woman beside him, still seemingly fast asleep. One cheek rested atop a hand and the other was plastered with a damn curl of hair. He smiled to himself. She was really here and it hadn't just been a beautiful dream! Her being asleep allowed him to lie there and watch her, and bask in the glory of the woman he loved...

Did he say 'loved'? Surely that was premature! Maybe, but he couldn't deny it, at least not to himself. He was completely in love with her.

His mind became lost in happy memories of last night. He wondered why it had never occurred to him before how very catlike she was. Something about the slow, almost languorous measure of her movements and the elegant length of her neck as she stretched back to receive his kisses, put him in mind of a cat surrendering itself utterly to the adoration it sees as its birthright. And that body of hers, with its sprung, lean muscle, the type of slenderness bestowed by nature rather than being wrought by the gym or dieting. Just thinking about how his own body had paid homage to hers last night enflamed his desire anew. He checked for any signs that she was waking, but those molten chocolate eyes remained shuttered behind heavily fringed lashes. Her lips were curved into a soft smile. There was a sphinx-like wisdom to the way she smiled, as if she were always playing a move ahead of everyone else. Very likely she was. But it was her body he was concentrating on a present, not the cause of the smile on her cherry lips.

Cherry lips and chocolate eyes. Add that to her caramel skin and he'd managed to make a confectionary out of her. He could only imagine what her feminist sensibilities would make out of that!

As if rousing herself in protest to Neil's objectification of her, Grace twisted under the thin cotton sheet. She lifted her still heavy lids and saw Neil lying beside her, watching her. She rolled onto her stomach and rubbed her face into the pillow, then looked up and smiled at him.

"Hey," she said croakily.

"Good morning," replied Neil. "Not a morning person, eh?"

"Not really, no," Grace admitted. "Though I will say this is the happiest awakening I have had in a long time."

"Can I take credit for that?" asked Neil, wriggling his way back under the covers beside her.

"You can take credit for buying such a comfy bed. I slept like a log!"

"Can say all that again, but credit your sound sleep to my teenager-like sexual enthusiasm?"

"Not without lying, no," answered Grace. She paused for Neil to react, then added, "But I will credit it to your mature sexual skill and sensitivity."

"Ah, now, I'll accept that," smiled Neil.

He leant in to kiss her. Grace responded hesitantly. She wished she'd been given the chance to clean her teeth first. She pulled back away and asked, "So, when are you going to try ringing Millie again?"

Neil was really beginning to wonder about Grace's Millie preoccupation. Was she joking? In case she was, he responded lightheartedly. "Hand me the phone and I'll do it right now."

Grace reached out and hit him. "You wouldn't dare! At least wait until I'm in the shower!"

"Well that's not possible. Do you think I'd let you negotiate a strange shower for the first time on your own? What lousy sort of boss, or lover, do you think I am?"

Grace rolled onto her side.

"I must say, I'd be a concerned about a boss who showed that much interest in his employee's ablutions. Just how many other members of CID have you made that offer to?"

"Just Terry Perkins, I assure you," deadpanned Neil.

Grace chuckled. "Well, I can understand the appeal there…"

Neil gasped in mock-horror. "Remind me not to pair you two up again then!"

"Spoil sport!"

"I'm sorry, but I'll tolerate no rival."

He wrapped his arms around Grace and they both lay there for a little while in silence.

The break in conversation was eventually ended by Grace. "What are you plans for the day?" she asked.

"Well, I'm supposed to collect Jake at 1230, and before that…"

"Before that?" Grace could guess what was coming.

"Yes, before that, I really should get in touch with Millie. And I say that without guilt, because you're the one who was urging me to try ringing her all night…"

"Until you curtailed my altruism by plying me with excellent pesto and a none-too-shabby red!" interjected Grace.

"Indeed. But not before you got me all worried about why she hasn't answered the phone for a couple of days."

"Mea culpa," admitted Grace. "But can I just have you to myself for a little while longer?"

"Oh, we have hours yet," Neil assured her. Then he drew her close to him again to demonstrate his idea of how they could fill in the time.

Grace sighed, "I suppose this can't happen when Jake's at home."

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, wouldn't it be, um, awkward for your son to find you in bed with a lover."

"Not just any lover," said Neil, stroking Grace's cheek tenderly with the back of his forefinger. "I am serious about you, you know, Grace."

Grace knew she felt the same way, but for some reason felt saying it back to Neil right then felt too contrived. Instead she sought a reassuring yet slightly flippant comeback.

"And I'm serious about that shower," she said.

Neil nodded. "Okay then. But you know what? I hate waste. And I think that it would be a waste for you to shower unless you really need to. So what say you let me get you a little more dirty first?"

Grace smiled up at him. "I can see the sense in that," she replied.

(ii)

It hadn't taken Max and Millie long to discover that the sofa was not the ideal setting for their lovemaking. Max took Millie's hand and led her down the hallway to the bedrooms. When Max tried to guide Millie into her room, she resisted.

"We might wake Andrew," she whispered. "Let's go in here." Millie led him into one of her spare rooms. Incidentally it was the one that Neil slept in when he and Millie had talked into the night or he had stayed to offer her support with Andrew. But this detail didn't occur to Millie just then, and as Neil was at that same time with Grace in his own bed at home, he probably wouldn't have cared less what his erstwhile bed was being used for.

Having settled on a venue, things progressed speedily. Millie felt her whole body thrill to the sensation of Max's touch. The last time anyone had been this close to her was the night of Andrew's conception, and then she had been lost in a drug haze, barely conscious of what was going on. Until tonight when she felt the heat of Max's bare flesh against her own, she had no idea how much she yearned for the type of intimacy from someone. That the someone happened to be Max Carter - of whom every rational fibre of her being told her she should be wary, for his sake as well as her own – suddenly didn't matter. Millie closed her eyes and revelled in her body's awakening. She felt she was a drought-stricken land, eagerly soaking up the rain.

Considering Millie's frame of mind it was lucky that at this juncture Max reached to the floor for his trousers to retrieve a condom. His mission was to possess Millie, but he'd already proven that getting her pregnant was not the most straightforward way of doing this.

It wasn't the same adventurous, climbing the walls type of sex through which Andrew came to be. They altered their position very little, perhaps fearing that anything more energetic might wake their sleeping baby. But from the very first stroke it was right on the money as far as Millie was concerned. Her steadily escalating passion was more than enough to enflame Max's ardour correspondingly to her own. The feeling of her body writhing beneath his as the lapping motion of her hips eagerly received his every thrust, her soft gasps of pleasure, were enough to have him racing towards blissful release in unison with her.

As the physical sensations of their climax ebbed away, a sense of panic about what they had just done crept into Millie's head. Especially as Max had looked at her as they lay there together, and the look he gave he didn't seem much like a precursor to his reaching over for a cigarette and saying something like 'that was fun. I'll call you some time." Max looked very much like he was here to stay.

Oh god, he better not be falling in love with me! Of all possible outcomes to their physical union, this was one she really hadn't anticipated.

Millie felt an urge to get as far away from Max as she could. She found the idea of sleeping with Max beside her all night too intimate, much more so than having sex with him seemed. She wanted him out of her personal space.

She realised she had the perfect excuse for her departure to her own bed. "I'd better go back to my room now, you know, to keep an eye on Andrew."

She disentangled her limbs from Max's, then rolled out of bed and put on her underwear.

"Oh, of course," said Max. It didn't occur to him Millie might want to get away from him. Much to Millie's annoyance he got out of bed and followed her into her room.

Damn! thought Millie. She couldn't see anyway of getting rid of him without being blunt about why, and she wanted to avoid that. They both climbed into Millie's bed and Millie turned on her side away from Max. He snuggled into her back and put an arm around her waist. She sighed. After her sleepless night the night before, she was too tired to let Max's presence keep her awake.

"Good night, Max," she said, and Max wished her good night back with a kiss on her neck. And soon she was sound asleep...

Max woke oblivious to the fact that in another house not too far away, Neil was being woken by those same first glimmers of morning light and in very similar circumstances. He found Millie was still asleep and was curled up against him, clutching the right arm he had wrapped around her shoulders. It was a relief to him that she seemed so contented in his embrace. There had been times when they had seen each other recently that he had worried that she was not falling for him as heavily as he wanted her to. She was the mother of his child and he would settle for nothing less than complete devotion from her. The way she slept holding him now seemed to him an indication that perhaps she was fonder of him than she was letting on, and that even though she might not be yet ready for commitment to him, things were heading in that direction.

While this was all very well, Max was starting to feel restless. Staying overnight at Millie's had meant that for the first time in god only knows how long, Max had spent a whole day and night completely straight. Not that this didn't have its positives. For one, he was able to congratulate himself for proving what he so desperately wanted to believe: that he was in control of his cocaine use and would easily be able to ditch his habit when the time was right. And being straight also meant that Max had approached having sex with Millie without excessively high expectations. When cocaine was new to him, he couldn't get enough of the ecstatic sensation that the combined sex and cocaine experience had given him. His early days with the drug were filled with lust-charged nights like the one he'd shared with Millie. But he was finding that as the drug had become a staple of his daily life, the thrill of the combination had started to wane. When he did mix the two, his expectations for the encounter would be so high he would more and more frequently find himself disappointed. Or worse still, his quest for that elusive high would preoccupy him so much, his mind would wander from the act and he would find himself unable to complete it. This was happening more and more these days. But he chanced seducing Millie because it was a necessary stage in his 'plan'. Anyway, no matter how humiliating sexual failure might be, he was sure the Millie that he knew would not hold it against him. Knowing her penchant for giving second chances, being unable to perform on a particular occasion was practically a guarantee of another attempt!

Although he hadn't slept with Millie expecting the ultimate sexual experience, he was surprised at how good last night had been, even drug-free. Perhaps her undisguised pleasure and abandon had heightened his enjoyment of it? If Max's emotional system had not been so thwarted, he might have realised the affection that had developed between them over the months of Andrew's life had added something to the experience. But whatever the reason, surely it boded well for their future that the woman with whom he had already (albeit inadvertently) started a family was sexual compatible with him.

He was missing his fix really badly by now. And he knew he had a short fuse when he felt like this. The last thing he wanted was to undo all the good work he had done yesterday and last night with Millie. If only there were a way he could get up and leave without having to explain himself to her...

As it had (almost) done last night for Millie, deliverance came in the form of Andrew. He was starting to stir in his cot. Millie automatically jolted into wakefulness by the sound of Andrew's first murmurs for the day. But before she was able to extricate herself from Max's arms, he had gently laid her back against the pillow and patted her shoulder.

"It's okay. I'll get him," he told her.

Not being the one to take care of Andrew first thing in the morning was a completely unknown experience for Millie and it took her a little while to register what was going on. Once it had sunk in that Andrew was safely in the care of the only person in the world who could care for him as much as she did, the sense of panic that had initially beset her soon subsided. She lay back calmly as Max walked naked across the room to Andrew's cot.

Max prayed that tending to Andrew would serve to take his mind off his increasing desire for a hit. He bent over the cot. His son blinked a few times and then fixed his gaze on the face in front of him.

"Good morning, Andrew. It's Daddy," whispered Max. He stroked his son's forehead gently. To his astonished joy, Andrew looked back at him and a big dimple appeared in each cheek as the boy's face lit up at the sight of his father.

There was no way Max had anticipated such a rapturous reaction from his son. He realised that this was the only time in Andrew's existence that his boy had woken in the morning to have his father's face the first one he saw for the day. It could have so easily have gone wrong. Andrew could have been disappointed or worried that his mother wasn't there, but instead he let Max know just how much he loved him and accepted him as virtually an equal to his mother. Before Max knew it, a tear splashed down from his own eye and onto the sheet beside his son's head. And then another, and another. Max realised that he was actually crying, and he had no control over it.

He knew that he had to do something before the all-seeing Millie cottoned on to what was happening. He picked Andrew up in his arms and spun slowly around the room with him as if it were some sort of game they were playing.

Millie pulled some pillows behind her to prop herself up. She knew Max had never witnessed Andrew's morning ritual and therefore probably had no understanding of how hungry Andrew would actually be. But as long as Andrew didn't complain, she was happy to leave them alone to enjoy themselves for a while. Max needed this time with his son. She let herself enjoy the tableau being played out before her.

Had Millie been more widely awake and the curtains been open, she probably would have realised Max was crying. But she wasn't paying close attention to his face just then. Max's still naked bodied was being shown off to great advantage by the shadows of the half-light. She cast her mind back to their love making last night as she watched the motion of the muscles of his back and shoulders as he danced around with his son. Those were the same strong shoulders she had clung onto tightly to as each delirious wave of her orgasm washed over her. It Andrew hadn't been awake, this sleepy and unguarded Millie would have seriously considered asking Max if he was up to doing it again. A dreamy smile formed on her lips.

To Max, in his embarrassment at his tears and drug-heightened paranoia, the smile appeared to be laughter. Had she spotted his moment of weakness and been amused by it?

"What's so funny?" he demanded, hoping his voice didn't betray his emotional state.

"Oh, sorry Max. I wasn't laughing at you. I was just, er, enjoying the view."

"What do you mean?" he asked defensively.

"I guess I meant I was perving on you," she confessed.

"Oh." If Max's mind had been clearer, he might have been flattered. But instead if just baffled him further.

"Perhaps it's time I fed Andrew now?" suggested Millie.

"Good idea," said Max, quickly placing Andrew in Millie's arms and turning away before she could see his face. "Mind if I have a shower?"

"Go ahead," Millie said.

As Max walked towards the bathroom he heard Millie talking to their baby. "Was that your daddy was it? You love your daddy very much, don't you, my darling? And you know what? Your daddy loves you just as much! Yes he does!"

Millie's cooing words to her son were somehow the final straw. Max shut himself in the bathroom and looked in the mirror at the tears that seemed to be all but streaming down his face. What was this about? Why couldn't he control it? He turned the taps of shower on full, hoping that the running water would mask the sound of the sobs that seemed to be escaping involuntarily from his throat.

Soon afterwards, a slightly calmer Max reentered the bedroom and said a hasty goodbye to his lover and his son. Then he went out to his car and he drove home. He told himself he was tired and needed to clear his head. But in reality, all he wanted was to blot his loss of control from his memory. And at home, there was the coke he hadn't taken yesterday, and the coke he had already set aside for today.

And so it was that for the first time since Andrew was very young, Max broke the promise he had made to himself, and to Millie, and took cocaine before nightfall.