Thank you so much for the reviews, wow! I wanted to expand a bit on Dempsey taking some responsibility for his reputation and remember a reference to protection and 'never be too careful' by Dempsey to Makepeace in an episode - I defer to those who know more! Clearly his casual sexism and flirting was in context for the period, but I didn't feel I could ignore it and have Harry fall into bed or demand he own his past. I wanted a more modern Dempsey to do it himself but in doing so, hope he's in character.
"So… James," Hannah from Accounts leans over his desk, her cleavage in his eye line. He doesn't look, there is no need, she's done this before and he's not interested. Really, he isn't. "Your expenses were wrong. That's very naughty."
"I don't have any expenses. Makepeace does them, I type up the reports we…ah, never mind," he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the top of Harry's head. Save me, he pleads.
"Do I need a reason to visit?" Hannah purrs. His partner, love of his life collects their mugs and heads to the coffee machine. For the love of God, Harry.
"I dunno, do you?" He wonders, being in love seems to have short-circuited parts of his brain.
"I have expenses, Hannah. They were all correct and a week overdue, could you find out where they are, please?" Harry picks up her coat with a smile that could freeze fire in a heat wave. "Dempsey, do you have my car keys?"
Hannah raises an eyebrow. He debates hiding under his desk. Then he seems a flicker of hurt across Harry's eyes and knows what she's thinking.
"If you can sort out Harry's expenses, we can get some gas," he says curtly, handing the Escort keys over the desk.
Harry finds the cash on her desk within the hour.
DMDMDMDM
The conversation goes like this.
"I guess I should take a test," he keeps his attention on the TV and the sobering news. "I've always been safe, used protection..."
Dempsey blames it on Cosmo and an urgent need to show he's changed his ways. Still, his arse clenches from fear and loathing.
Harry takes a swig of wine, pauses and nods."I don't want to know about your past."
"Hannah isn't one of them," he says looking at her.
"I didn't think she was." She doesn't catch his eye immediately. "You were wearing your panic face."
If Harry has asked, he'd tell her but it hurts him to think how he played about; set free from Simone and her whiskey laden demands. All that time wasted with none of the buzz he's feeling with Harry.
"You know the about me but my tests at work were clear." She's quiet for the rest of the evening, the inequality of knowledge weighs heavy.
The next morning, Dempsey winces at the prick of the needle. He wants the awkwardness of it all to be over.
DMDMDMDM
He didn't intend to be in a furniture store on a Saturday morning. It's a distraction from the test results and a rest from his thoughts of Harry. Somehow her kisses have turned Dempsey from a lion to a pussy cat, yet he's never felt so alive and so… virile. Love, perhaps, makes a man delusional. Cosmo didn't mention this.
Dempsey woke up today, burnt toast, and decided he'd done with the bed. Last night he fell face first on the duvet and on waking remembered it was the same set he'd had on the bed when that broad - the one he called Harry by mistake - was here. Briefly. She stormed out before he'd taken off her shirt. He's pretty certain Simone slept in this sheets. Alone.
It's bugged him ever since. If he's going to seriously woo the real Harry, he's gotta get a new bed and all the 's how he ends up traversing a store in the West End trying to work out European sizes and his own indecipherable handwriting. He is is studying floral duvet covers when he hears his name.
"James?"
Dempsey looks up to find Freddy Winfield standing beside him with an ugly lamp in his hand.
"Hello Lord Winfield," he says in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"The dammed hall light blew up and I'm on my way to see Harriet, so I thought I'd pop in, pick up a new one." He looks at the duvet sets. "Nice to see you outside of a crisis, my boy. Do you have any plans for the weekend?"
Yeah, I'm hoping to get it on with your daughter. Dempsey wonders if it shows on his face. "I thought I'd change my place around a little."
A look passes on the man's face, one Dempsey can't read but whatever it is, earns him a handshake, "So you've dropped anchor so to speak?"
Dempsey nods and wonders if there is a euphemism he's yet to learn."I kinda like it this side."
"That's marvellous. You know, you and Harriet are both welcome; just don't play with the swords." Freddy teases, "I'll let you get on. My daughter hates floral duvets."
The remark lands as the older man probably intended. When it does, Dempsey turns with a sharp intake of breath to find Freddy at the checkout and on his way. He picks up a plain white bedding set and arranges for the bed to be delivered.
DMDMDM
He cleans out the bedroom. Boxes up those tapes and dumps the back issues of Razzle and attacks every corner of the space. He's just showered off the sweat from the effort when the doorbell rings. He shrugs on a t-shirt and jeans, and opens the door. Harry appears from behind a bunch of sunflowers looking weary.
"You could've let yourself in…," he studies her face. "Harry, you okay?"
"I'm.. me," she hands him the flowers and he must look surprised. "You said nobody bought you any, so I did."
"Thank you," Dempsey thinks it wise not to mention the absence of a vase. "So you wanna go with the truth and tell me what's pissed you off?"
Harry heads into his living room and sits down. "You told my father."
"I said I was buying furniture and I was staying this side of the pond," Dempsey says carefully. "I didn't say anything else."
Harry bites her lip."He seemed to think you were buying things for me and… well… we're together."
"Your pop told me you didn't like flowers on a duvet," he explains, "I didn't imply anything else. Doesn't he know about us?"
Harry shakes her head. "I had no idea how to explain us."
"I'm sure love is a concept your father would understand," Dempsey points out. He chews his lip for a moment. "Harry, work aside, are you ashamed of being with me?"
Her shoulders sag with the weight of his words and his heart drops.
"No, not at all," she meets his eyes. "You know my family, well my sisters will go wild about it and Freddy will have me dressed in off-white at a wedding breakfast before tea. I need to get used to you and me before I tell them. It seems sensible given that Richard was very recent."
"Freddy seemed keen to play Cupid."
Harry sighs. "It's very odd, since my father suggested I date a man who was the opposite of you in every single way. Maybe he thinks you're a rebound."
"Am I?" Dempsey asks quietly.
"No, Dempsey, not at all. We'd have had sex by now," she looks amused.
Heat fires up in his belly. "You can use my body any time, day or night. I'm here for you."
"Of course you are," she says fondly and then sniffs. "Are you cooking human food?"
"I was just gonna do some vegetables."
"I can help," she rises and investigates. He loves how at home she is, shrugging off her coat and kicking away her shoes. "If you want the company?"
"I want," he trails behind her admiring her ass as she bends over the look in the oven. He's still a guy.
DMDMDM
It's probably unreasonable to be so cheerful on a Tuesday morning. He arrives too early and the sun is shining. He has an envelope in his pocket and its crinkling in his jacket pocket.
"Morning Harry," he breezes in and heads to the coffee machine.
"Morning." She's distracted by papers. That's the stupid thing about cop shows, he thinks. They never show the reports and crap they have to deal with. She's always reading something. He wants to kiss her now but they're at work and Work Harry is not the same as His Harry. Dutifully he fixes her a drink and slides the envelope across her desk.
"What's this?" She sees it's been opened and it's his personal address.
"Something from you to me," Dempsey grins and drops into his own seat with sigh of satisfaction. "It's.. y'know, all good."
Harry slides it back to him. "Your word is enough."
"So now what?" He swallows the lump in his throat, and leans forward hoping he can seduce her with puppy eyes.
"We do our jobs," Harry hands him a box file and continues to read whatever had her attention before.
He starts to sort through the papers inside, trying to locate anything to hold the suspect in that bank robbery in Kensington for a little longer. Harry flicks a button on the computer and it groans into life in the otherwise empty office.
"Your place, Friday." She says quietly.
"How the hell am I meant to do anything until then?" Dempsey protests, a thrill spiking through his body like a hot wire. "All I can think about…"
She shots him a warning look and he lights the metaphorical match anyway.
"…is you."
"You know what you need to do?" Harry is stern of voice, though her eyes betray amusement.
"Make love with you in my new bed?" He pouts at her, that worked once, sort of. Not this time though maybe his choice of words are the cause of her brief shock.
"Make an arrest." She rolls her eyes and holds up a paper with the evidence that's been under his nose all the time.
"You ever thought of getting a whip?" He slips from the room before she can reward with him a reply.