Jackson stared at his bedroom ceiling, dark rings under his eyes. He'd slept fitfully, woken throughout the night by Lisa's pacing. This had done nothing for his efforts to keep her off his mind, and several times he'd had to stop himself from dashing out in his underwear and demanding that she give it a rest. Deciding that he couldn't stay in bed any longer, he slid out from under the duvet and dressed quietly. Slipping into the walkway, he found her with her back to him in the kitchen and he stood barefoot on the cold wood, watching her boil the kettle.

Several minutes passed, as did several thoughts. She flicked the switch a final time. There was a loud snap, and the kettle began to smoke. Turning the appliance off at the wall, Lisa turned around and jumped at the sight of him leaning against the fridge with his arms folded.

"I told you you'd break it."

She looked thrown by the gentleness of his voice, but still mistrustful. She gave the rest of the kitchen a fleeting look, but the rest of the surfaces were bare. She was at a loss now that the kettle was gone. Jackson nodded in the direction of the table and unfolded his arms.

"Sit down."

She sat delicately on the edge of a stool and he took the one opposite her, placing both palms down on the table. He fixed his cool blue eyes on hers and was encouraged by the way she stared steadily back at him. Jackson realised how tired she looked, and wondered if she was thinking the same thing about him. The wall clock ticked a few seconds away, and he swallowed hard, his scar jumping. He wasn't even sure where he was going with this.

"Leese," he started with his usual patronising tone, but thought better of it. Even so, he was unable to stop himself from expressing each word clearly. "Leese, there's a lot you still don't understand."

He pushed an acrylic placemat across the table surface, leaving it in front of her. She ignored it, so he tapped it and pushed it a little further.

"For God's sake, Leese. I know you need something to occupy yourself with while I talk so pick the damn thing up."

Stunned at the outburst, and the fact that he was right, Lisa edged her nails underneath the placemat and started to flick the corner. It made a tiny clicking sound on the vinyl tabletop, slightly out of time with the wall clock. He watched her a little, and she lowered her face, apparently very interested in the mat.

"There's a lot you still don't understand," he repeated. "I told you before that I don't lie. I told you that I needed you for a job, and that I don't make a habit…" He faltered and swallowed again, waiting for a reaction.

Lisa continued to flick the corner of the mat, staring at the translucent plastic.

"I think you'll find that I'm as good as my word," he finished.

Lisa hesitated, then gave him a cold stare and slid the placemat back towards him. "So which job?"

Jackson looked taken aback, having not considered that fact that she might ask questions. She pursed her lips and maintained her stare, and eventually he had to look away. She leaned forward and asked again:

"Which job?"

"All of them," he snapped. The atmosphere shifted and she sat back in her seat, confusion written in her frown. He placed his palms on the table again, feeling the aggression mounting. "I needed you for every single job, Leese. I said I might have to steal you and then I knew I had to – I needed to come home and know you were here, with me, and safe."

He waited, but got no reply. He did, however, see her glance briefly in his direction. After a moment's thought, he tried his last card.

"I made a mistake or two along the way, and now I'm just waiting for it to go to shit."

Lisa sat up again, reached out and retrieved the placemat. She held it on its side and ran her nails around the edge, turning the square plastic over and over. Breathing evenly, he studied her until she flung the mat down with a weak slap and stood up.

"You said we'd talk again, too. And we did. I supposed that makes you a good person? Deep down?" The question was tinged with something that he couldn't place, but sounded very close to disappointment. He felt a pang and he turned on the stool as she moved around the table.

"Leese, I'm being honest with you," he said, struggling to hide his desperation. "I need you."

He shifted his hand and she stalled, her fingers still touching the table. He made as if he was going to lay his hand on hers, but shot out and grabbed her wrist at the last moment. She pulled away, but he held fast and stood up, ignoring the twisting sting in his side. Yanking her arm, their bodies clashed and her cupped her face in his hands, his blood pounding in his ears and drowning out the sound of the clock.

"Do you understand, Lisa? I have to have you…"

Without thinking, he pressed his lips hard on hers, running a thumb over her cheekbone. This time, hot shock ran through him and he felt her knees give slightly. He lowered his arms and wrapped them around her body, leaving a trail of fluttering kisses at the edge of her mouth before pressing hungrily into another, deeper kiss. Fully expecting to be kicked or bitten, he felt his stomach leap when she began to kiss him back and he inadvertently pulled apart from her. Searching her face and knowing he was giving everything away, he fought the urge to flinch when she brought her fingers up and smoothed his hair out of his face. Finally, she backed away with a shy smile on her face, her cold fingers wrapped around his wrist and urging him to follow.

Feeling the scarred muscle in his throat spasm, and taking forced, shaking breaths, Jackson followed Lisa into the lounge, lay with her on the sofa and made love to her.