Kensington Street, he discovered, since his arrival in London, was where the good people hung out. The food was gorgeous, there were plenty of bars and clubs. It was perfect for date.

Dempsey wasn't there.

He was in the City on a Friday night; where the banks held the dark spaces in a tight grip. If SI-10 were sent this way to investigate a case, it was always about the money. It wasn't a place for a date. The bars around this space were for political gesturing and bribery.

Nobody would invite anyone here for romance. Which is why Dempsey knew that Harry's date was completely wrong.

He had heard her talking lightly, playfully even, to someone on the phone when he'd arrived at the office earlier than he'd expected. She sometimes spoke to him in that way and when she did, it made his day, and fuelled his hopes. Hearing her direct the same tone to another person made his face hot and his blood boil with jealously.

"Limoncello? No, I've never been there," he'd heard her say. "Is it new?"

There had been a pause while Dempsey strained to hear what the other person was saying, which was impossible. Limoncello. Stupid, he thought, thinking of the small restaurant a few blocks from his ma's home in Brooklyn which had real roses in vases. Harry would love it there.

"Yes, that sounds great," Harry replied. "Seven is good. I'll see you then."

Dempsey had waited another few breaths before casually walking in and filling up his mug with coffee, as if he hadn't heard. He'd looked at Harry as she went to talk to Chas. If it weren't for the fact that she was avoiding looking at him, her actions gave away nothing. As he had expected.

Now, as he stood by the gaudy fake-Italian restaurant which probably only served fatty meatballs, he knew he shouldn't be here. He hadn't made a conscious decision to follow her. He had stayed at work late, and needed to burn off some steam and then idle, dangerous curiosity took over.

But he shouldn't have come here. Even by his standards, it's low.

He watched the man he didn't recognise, offer up her coat and step forward to open the door for her. Harry's smile was bright, and she laughed at something her date said as they walked out into the cool night air.

Her hair was different, styled up from her neck in a bun, nothing like he'd seem at work. Her eyes were sharper and her lips were a shade darker than he had ever seen them. He was trapped somewhere between amazed and aroused. She was even more beautiful and sexy, if that were possible.

Maybe he wanted to get an idea of whom she dated. The man didn't look like anything special. Average height, pale with sandy hair in a dull suit. And she was laughing with him, touching his arm, leaning into his space. There was no way this muppet deserved her. He watched as the man raised his hand to stop a cab, and suddenly Dempsey didn't want to think about what may happen next. He had been angry and turned on, but now he felt ashamed. He supposed the jealousy was payback.

He pushed off from where he was leaning against a wall, determined to get home and remain in denial. As if compelled by pain alone, he turned to take one final look at his partner, happy on her date with someone who wasn't him, only to find her glaring at him from the other side of the street.

The look on her face was shock, mixed with anger and something else that Dempsey couldn't put his finger on, but whatever it was it made his heart rate jump. A cab pulled up in front of them, but it didn't break her stare. Dempsey wondered if he should wave or simply go. The former felt trite.

Dempsey really shouldn't be here; he began to leave as she turned to her date, saying something to him with a smile. The man gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, got into the cab, and it pulled away, leaving her standing alone on the curb.

He didn't know what to do. Should he cross the street and go to her? Leave? Let her come to him? He didn't have to wait long for his answer because Harry checked for traffic, and jaywalked across to meet him.

"Hey Harry," he said casually as she approached, hoping he could keep her calm, but knowing he deserved the earache he was going to get.

"What are you doing here?" She was surprisingly subdued.

"I got lost." He tried, and saw disappointment on her face.

"You've lived here for two years,'" Harry said sadly.

His mind ran through a million possible responses, searching for anything that wouldn't make her more disappointed, and he came up with nothing.

"I went out."

"To the City? Where I happen to be going for dinner?" Harry's voice dripping with irritation. "At least credit me with some intelligence, Dempsey, I'm not a piece of fluff you've found in a pub."

He wanted to make a remark about her brains, how she's so much more than passing broad in his eyes, but he can't string the words together.

"I heard you on the phone today," Dempsey said, watching her eyebrows lift towards her hairline. "I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"You were eavesdropping?" Harry hissed. "Are you spying on me now? Dempsey, I carry a weapon. I'm a professional trained officer. Do you understand how creepy it is? How demeaning it is, that you think I can't handle myself?"

She was standing close enough that he could smell her perfume. Then she issued a challenge. "You're angry because you lack the balls to ask me on a date yourself."

"I wanted to know who you were with," He ground out trying to control the maelstrom of anger at the accuracy of her judgement.

"Is that so?" Harry let out a mirthless laugh. "Why? Are you jealous? You didn't need my permission to sleep around. You never said anything when you were bedding Angie Hughes."

"That's different," he said, his voice a near growl.

"Is it, Dempsey?" She stood her ground and glared at him. "Tell me how this is different?"

He couldn't believe she was doing this right now. He had seen her angry before, but this was on a whole new level. When he had made the unconscious decision to follow her, Dempsey hadn't considered what her reaction would be.

She was his partner and he had broken her trust, in more ways than one. No woman compared to the unyielding force that was Harry and created such a wild desire that had never been sated. Even if he bedded her, he'd want more. How the hell did he explain that? He stood, lost and completely speechless, unable to defend himself.

"Forget it," Harry said sadly, and turned to hail a cab.

Dempsey felt her absence from his space with the pain that comes from shock. He needed her back, consequences be damned. He reached out for her arm that wasn't in the air and pulled her towards him. She started to say his name in surprise but he silenced her, pushing his mouth to hers. He wasn't gentle and for a moment he worried she was going to pull away and slap him, until he felt her lips part.

He wanted to devour her, taste every inch of her, and he was god damn shocked that she wasn't telling him to stop. They were in public. He had his partner pinned to a building while she slid her cold hands underneath his shirt and up his back.

He had to be dreaming.

And just like a dream, they were rudely interrupted by a sudden and very loud car horn. A cab had pulled up and the driver was watching them through an open window with a smirk on his face.

"It's a night for voyeurs," Harry commented into his chest. Dempsey grinned, his face seemed unable to do anything else.

"You need a ride?" The driver yelled impatiently at them.

Dempsey gave him his address.

"I'm going home," Harry said as he tried to take her hand.

"The hell you are."

She stood on the sidewalk, arms crossed in front of her chest. "I'm trying to tell you that I'm still angry with you."

"And what I'm trying to tell you," Dempsey said stepping closer to her and lowering his lips to her ear, "is that I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry sat next to him, statuesque on the seat but he could feel her pulse racing in her wrist, against the gentle hold of his fingers.

"So who was he?" Dempsey asked.

"What happened with you and Thelma?" Harry shot back without a moment's pause.

Any remnants of a smile he had left on his face disappeared in a flash.

"Are you really going to do this?" Dempsey snapped. He didn't want to talk to her about Thelma or any other women. He especially didn't want to do it after they had kissed the way they just had. "Nothing happened with me and Thelma, I turned her down. Nothing's been happening for months."

Harry didn't answer. She just sat with her arms crossed, looking out the cab window.

"Who was he?" Dempsey asked again, trying to keep his tone neutral as he attempted to deflect her question.

"You lost the right to know that when you spent the night stalking me."

Dempsey heard an "oof" from the front of the cab and caught the driver's eye in the rear view mirror. They should get out to talk in private, but Harry didn't seem to care that they had an audience.

"I am allowed to do whatever I please in my free time," she said, turning slightly in her seat to face him. "I don't need to tell you where I am going or who I am spending time with in the same way you find no need to explain to me why you sleep around."

"Nothing has been going on for months, because they're not you!" He exclaimed, meaning every word, his hands racked through his hair in despair.

Harry scoffed and pulled her arms tightly around her body. "What about Mara?"

"You said you didn't care." He couldn't believe what he'd just heard, and apparently neither could the cab driver whose sharp inhale had been less than subtle. Dempsey was tired of this conversation having a third wheel. He leaned towards Harry, placing one hand on the seat next to her hip and the other on her thigh just above her knee and whispered "I didn't believe you, so I didn't touch her, I'm not some god-dammed giglio."

"The only person I have been thinking about making love to was you. Long before anyone else. Love, not fucking. I've never done that before."Harry's breath came out in soft pants as Dempsey slid his hand up her thigh. His face was still close to hers, waiting for her reaction.

"We went to university together," she said in a whisper, the last word coming out in a stutter as Dempsey's fingertips moved higher along her leg, sliding into uncharted territory. "I'm not his type, he's gay." Her breath hitched slightly at his touch.

"So it wasn't a date?" Dempsey growled into her ear.

"He's in town on business."

"And you let me think you wanted to be with him?" He didn't want to give the cab driver a show, but he couldn't hold back any longer. Dempsey released his hand from hers, brought it to the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him. When their lips touched, it took all of his strength not to get handsy.

He bit her lip to let her know he was pissed at her too, but to his surprise, she liked it. Her moan of appreciation sent blood rushing through his body making his jeans tight and uncomfortable. But Harry always seemed to know what he was thinking.

His mind rode on overdrive. He was trying to touch and taste every part of her at once. One hand was on her breast, the other was attempting to get under her dress. Her head was tossed back against the cold window and for a second, just before he moved his head further into her cleavage, Dempsey could see the look of pure ecstasy on her face.

Somewhere under the thumping of his blood and the squeak of the breaks, the driver cleared his throat announcing his presence.

"I'd better get a good tip," He observed drily.

Dempsey took out his wallet in a confused stupor. How much was the ride? When did they get to his apartment? He grabbed two twenty pound notes with no conception of the real fare and practically threw them at the driver. It was certainly too much, but he couldn't think and he needed to get them indoors as quickly as possible.

The driver, with a smile far too large, yelled at them to have fun as she pulled Dempsey from the cab.

"That was so embarrassing," Harry said as he shoved her up against the wall. She let out a surprised yelp, but her eyes were dark and he saw consent.

"That was sexy as hell," He told her before burying his face in her neck to pick up where they'd left off.

"Dempsey," Harry said with a whimper as he continued tasting her skin. All the ways she had said his name over the course of their years together, he had never heard it like that. This way was his favourite by far.

He tried to get his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door while continuing his exploration of his partner's mouth, but after two unsuccessful attempts Harry stopped him.

"Let me," she said, stepping towards the door and removing her own keys from her pocket.

It gave him a thrill to see his key on the ring snuggled next to those for her place and Freddy's house. He didn't know how she was managing it, but she opened the door and stepped into his space as if it were any other day. As if they hadn't just done something they had never done before. He followed her inside, grabbing her wrist and pushing her body against the door as it closed.

"Dempsey!"

He took a moment to look at her, hair no longer perfect, dress partially unbuttoned, revealing the tops of her breasts in a black lace bra.

"God, Harry," he said, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

The sides of her mouth quirked up into a smile as she reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Dempsey wasted no time finishing off her buttons and begun to remove her dress as she struggled with his belt buckle. He couldn't make sense of the fact that he was really feeling the soft skin of her thighs on his palms. He had wanted this for so long but had started to give up hope that he would ever be allowed or, as she'd said, have the balls to ask.

Dempsey stepped forward, kicking his shoes and pants aside, and pressed his body into hers up against the door. She gasped as the air left her lungs.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked, before placing a kiss on the tip of her nose and simultaneously thrusting his body into her centre.

She made a sound somewhere between a groan and a yelp as she nuzzled into his neck.

"Was that a yes?" Dempsey asked, reaching down her thigh and sneaking a finger under the elastic of her underwear, hesitantly exploring her warmth while waiting for her answer.

She moved, arching her back, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them. "Don't stop. God, Dempsey. Don't stop."

As he continued to venture further, her hands fumbled along the waist of his boxers, frantically trying to pull them down. He kept her pinned to the door, which made it almost impossible for her to get the leverage that she needed. His attitude and crazy hunches drove her crazy, but this? It was the best thing he had ever accomplished.

"Are you still mad at me?" Dempsey asked her as he released the pressure against her and bent forward to take one of her lace-covered nipples into his mouth.

"Yes." Harry answered, her voice breathy as his fingers slid hard into her knickers.

"What are we going to do about it?" He asked, shoving two fingers deep inside her.

"Fuck!"

"Sounds like a plan!" He grinned, and continued to move his fingers.

"Shut up, Dempsey," Harry replied, reaching out for him as his jeans and underwear dropped to the floor. He shoved them off with his shoes and socks, in a clumsy dance leaving him exposed in front of her. He felt liberated when her eyes widened and she mouthed a curse.

"Big…" She uttered and he felt his insides concave in a pitch of lust. When he couldn't take it any longer, he withdrew his fingers and yanked her underwear down her legs, tearing them in the process.

"Dempsey!"

"I'll buy you new ones," He growled as he wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her in the air, earning himself a squeal.

He laid her on his couch and felt a primal urge to taste, but when he started to lean forward, Harry wound her fingers through his hair and gave a soft tug, making him stop.

Dempsey looked up at her, suddenly afraid she had changed her mind; that she didn't want him and he had destroyed their relationship beyond repair.

"It's okay," she said, her voice soft and sultry but also full of concern for him. "Later. I don't want to wait for you any more."

She reached out for him, sliding her hand up and down his body a few times and paused for a moment to look up, freezing their movements, as they took in how momentous this night had become.

"Harry," he said, her name on his tongue like a prayer.

"I know."

She gasped when he gently began to slide inside her, then her eyes flew open and she smiled. All the times he had seen her smile, paled in comparison to this. This was a smile of pure contentment, as if she had been waiting, like he had been, for this moment.

He pulled right back, before moving again back in drawing moans from both of their lips. Harry wrapped her legs around his back, but Dempsey grabbed them, looping his arms under her thighs as he started to find a pace.

Harry mumbled, her nails digging into his shoulders. "More. Don't stop, don't stop."

His muscles were straining and the seam of the couch was digging into his knee, but none of that mattered. He thrust harder and faster, trying to hold on as long as he could.

"Harry–" he said, his thoughts muddled and filled with her. He needed her there with him. Like everything else in his life, he needed her beside him.

"Me too," she said, pushing her hips up against him. "I'm so close."

Dempsey leaned forward, pushing her legs to her chest, grinding his body against hers. She called out as he filled her deeper than before as he felt himself rise.

Her head was tossed back as she cried out his name. James.

And he was gone. He wanted to say her name, call every curse he knew, but all he could do was murmur a jumble of everything and get lost in her. He never wanted to escape.

Slowly he moved, seeing stars and catching his breath. He extracted his head from between the couch arm and her shoulder. "Jesus, Harry."

She looked bashful, sexy and adorable and he couldn't stop the grin. "I know."

"Hi." He said, reaching out and brushing her hair from her forehead.

"Hello." She grinned back and kissed him gently. His heart sung.

"So, do you wanna go on a date with me?" Dempsey asked with a playful grin, hoping she would take the bait.

Harry tried to give him a stern look but failed, and giggled instead. He got his reassurance that they'd be okay.

"Not Limoncello, the main course was awful." She slid a finger over his lips, "I'm glad I went elsewhere for dessert."

Dempsey preened and gained a laugh. "I know this great place in New York…"