The sky was dark and threatening as she'd pulled out her drive and by the time she'd travelled the relatively short journey the rain was starting to come down in sheets. She parked and leaned forward to stare at the sky through the windscreen heavily regretting not having brought a coat.

"Waste of time doing your hair," she commented ruefully to herself, also wishing she'd rethought the heels given the puddles that were already forming on the path up to his flat. Deciding she had no option than to just make a dash for it, she took a deep breath and flung open the car door and ran, emitting an uncharacteristic girlish shriek as the fat raindrops fell cold against her skin. As she reached the front door and the semi cover afforded by the narrow porch roof she hammered loudly and practically fell through it as it opened. She stood, arms out to her sides, looking down at her now mud splattered legs, before lifting a hand to push her dripping wet hair back from her face.

He regarded her, a slight smile on his face, "Damp out, pet?" he offered lightly.

She looked up, "A little," pausing before adding wryly, "So, you might want an umbrella when you fetch my things from the boot."

With an amused look on her face she watched from the doorway as he gallantly struggled to coordinate the car keys, her overnight bag, and the foil-covered crumble, failing spectacularly to keep the umbrella above his head. Having handed her a towel as he'd headed out, she now kindly returned the favour as she offered it back to him as he stood dripping on the doormat, now both laughing at the ridiculous start to their evening. She reached up to wipe away the rain running off his nose with her thumb before taking her bag from his hand and turning to head to the bedroom. Towelling his hair, he deposited the pudding in the kitchen, taking the opportunity to briefly check on the veg before following her.

"You know, Dr. Hobson, I'd rather expected we might be undressing after dinner," he said, discovering her undoing the zip on her dress.

"Ha, ha," she replied dryly, letting the dress fall to the floor, "Lend me a jumper, will you?

He smiled as he opened a draw in the heavy oak chest and passed over a dark green woollen sweater. He watched as she pulled it on, the hem of which just about covered her bottom, and began to roll up the sleeves. He caught her eye and nodded down to her bare legs. She rolled her eyes in response and dug around in her bag, pulled out a pair of leggings and put them on.

"Shame," he said playfully as he removed his own damp clothes and went to pull her in close for a hug, wincing as he felt her hands on him, cold from the rain.

She eyed him mischievously as she attempted to warm them further, pushing them into the heat radiating from his chest, laughing as he shivered as they made their way across his nipples and then up to his neck and into his damp hair.

"Get dressed, Inspector," she teased in his ear, "The dinner won't cook itself," before turning a heading back to the kitchen leaving him a little dejected at the loss of her touch on him, but excited about his prospects for the rest of the evening.

"How was your day? Get everything done you wanted to?" she asked, spiking a roast potato and letting it soak up some gravy before popping it into her mouth.

He nodded, "Yes, mostly. It's just all the forms for the pension. Seems you need to prove your identity in triplicate before you can get to the money you've been paying into for decades."

As she chewed she gave him a contemplative look before swallowing and asking, "So, you're definitely doing it then? Retiring?"

This caught him up short, a bit surprised at the question. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

Shrugging, "I don't know, I mean, you've considered it before and changed your mind."

He thought about this, slicing a parsnip and pairing it with some chicken on his fork, "True, but it feels different this time. Before it was more about others wanting me to, Lyn or the force, although I admit I was persuaded at some level. But no, this is about me," he paused, "And Jack. And you."

She smiled, pleased to hear him speak so positively about it. She knew how big a change it was going to be for him. "What does Lyn think about it? She must be pleased." But the look her question garnered was not the one she'd expected, "What?"

He looked down at his plate as if studying it closely, "I haven't told her yet," he admittedly guiltily.

She felt a frown cross her face before she corrected it in case he saw it. Usually he ran everything past her, she was more than a daughter in that regard, almost a crutch that he unknowingly leant on.

"Why not?" she asked gently. "Robbie?" she prompted when he didn't reply.

He lifted his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair and scratching the back of his head, before taking a deep breath. "I think because I haven't told her about us."

His words hung in the air as she took them in, her earlier concern for him now replaced with confusion, this really wasn't like him.

"Oh, I see," was all she could manage.

She reached for her glass, not quite sure of the right response, she'd assumed he'd have wanted Lyn's approval. Not because he needed it, she knew it wasn't that, more out of his respect for Val as the mother of his children. She watched, seeing his mind working as he found the words to explain, not wanting to rush him.

"I want to, hell I've nearly rung her a dozen times but I haven't, simple as that." He paused, contemplating how truthful to be. He really didn't want to unload his doubts and fears on her but without Lyn to talk to he accepted he didn't have much of a choice. "What if you change your mind?"

"About what?" she asked before realising what he meant. "Robbie!" she exclaimed in disbelief, moving to reach for his hand. "Change my mind? Why would you think that?"

She shook her head at him, seeing the worry that he'd been clearly keeping from her etched into his face. He didn't speak, just stared at her, desperate to be reassured, fearful he wouldn't believe her. She pulled her chair towards his, and took both his hands in hers, deciding this needed nipping in the bud right now. For all his outward confidence, she knew his quiet inward thoughts were his worst enemy.

"Robert Lewis, I am simply not going to change my mind about you," she started in her best Hobson 'talking to' tone that he knew all too well. "Do you honestly think I'd be here right now if I hadn't already thought through how big a deal this is? And it is a big deal, Robbie, for me as much as for you. And I'm in. All in."

"I get pretty grumpy, you know", he said glumly, but quietly reassured by her words.

She laughed, "Grumpy? That's not the half of it. What about obstinate, single-minded, work-obsessed," she listed, her teasing tone forcing a rueful smile from him. She continued, "But also kind and caring," she paused, "The man whose arms I want wrapped around me at the end of a long day."

"Really?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers, almost pleading for the final word of reassurance.

"Really. Speak to Lyn, Robbie," she demanded softly, squeezing his hands. "You won't feel right until you do," pleased as he nodded slowly and squeezed back.

"Do you remember that girl who was in our philosophy class? Fabulous curly red hair stretching all the way down her back." James asked.

He'd met an old friend from Cambridge who was in the city for work. Meeting him from the train, they'd spent the afternoon working their way along the pubs that lined the river. They'd briefly flirted with the idea with hiring a punt and stashing a crate of lager in the bow, but had instead opted to keep their feet on dry land. Now ensconced in his flat, feet up on the coffee table, the remnants of a curry pushed to one side, Dodders, or Tony Dodson to give him his full name, cackled as he recalled who James was referring to.

"You mean Jessica! I can't believe you forgot her name! You were half in love with her throughout the second year "

"Was not," James replied petulantly, reluctant to admit that now he came to think of it his friend was right. "I saw her on Friday, didn't even know she was in Oxford. She was having a barney with her old man. Not sure what it was about but she gave him a stinging slap to the face."

Dodders laughed, "Like the time you tried to kiss her at the spring ball."

"Yeah, alright. About as good with the ladies back then as I am now," he sulked. "Anyway, you can talk. Or have you forgotten about the temptress Marianne? Hardly Casanova yourself?" he smirked, warming to the idea that he wasn't alone in his failure to get the girl.

"Touche," his friend agreed regretfully, taking a swig from his bottle of beer. "So, Spain then? What's that about?"

James sighed heavily as he rested his head back on the sofa, rolling it towards his friend, "Magical mystery tour to try and find some inner peace."

"Not possible, mate. You've always been a tortured soul," his tone kindly despite the truth of his words, adding, "Takes one to know one after all."

"Well, at this point I'd take a break from the dead for a few weeks at least. My Inspector seems to thrive on it but..." he paused, reaching for the last bit of poppadom, "I don't know. Might be the end of the road for me."

Dodders regarded his friend. They'd been inseparable at university, kindred spirits in many ways. Troubled relationship with their respective fathers, not quite at ease in their own skin, always seeking solace from something more worthy. For James it had been the church, for him it had been the poetry of Shakespeare. But when the dream of treading the boards had eluded him, he'd found his calling in teaching it instead. He could relate to James' predicament more than he was letting on.

"It's late. Maybe we should call it a night, Anthony old chum," James said, suddenly exhausted from a day of drinking. "Spare room's made up. What time's your conference start?"

They confirmed their respective plans for the morning before saying goodnight and making their way to their respective rooms. James ruminated of his friends words, a tortured soul. He didn't feel that was quite right, lost maybe. It was Robbie, and Laura to give her due credit, that had kept him Oxford as long as this and now they were moving in on, together.

"Time for you to as well, Jim," he said quietly to himself as he turned out the light.