He rolled over lazily, and his outstretched located only a cold space where he expected to find her warm body. Rising from the bed, he yawned and walked the short distance to the bathroom, hearing the shower running. He stepped in, making contact with her wet body and she responded, leaning back on him and smiling. He scooped some shampoo in his fingers and slowly moved them through her soft brown hair, trailing bubbles through her scalp and down her neck. She groaned in pleasure as his hand travelled confidently to explore her body and they moved together among the coconut suds.

"We'll be late for work," she scolded afterwards, only half meaning it, as he smiled cockily at her drying her hair with a towel and snatched it from her. He rubbed her hair gently, still wet and naked himself, and then threw it aside. She enjoyed his attentions and knew he did too. Taking a comb, he pulled it through her tangles carefully, before removing the other large towel she had around her. Pushing her back on the bed, her still damp hair was soon tangled again.

Arriving together again caused Tintin to raise his eyebrows at them. As Laure went to get a coffee, Tintin looked at his partner of many years, who was smiling away to himself whilst checking his emails.

"What is up Gilou? Your hair is shiny, and you can't stop grinning. Who is the lucky woman?"

"What do you mean?" asked Gilou, half-heartedly and evasively.

Realising what he had guessed might be true, could well be, Tintin's eyes widened in realisation. "You know I love you both Gilou, but I hope you know what you're doing."

Taking Tintin to another room, away from the others, Gilou stood close to him, looking at him directly.

"You know how I feel about her. How I've always felt."

"I do, but I also know what she is like. She eats men for breakfast."

"It'll be different this time, with me."

"I hope so Gilou, for your sake. I really don't want to see you hurt."

"I love you man," whispered Gilou, tears springing to his eyes after such caring words from his friend. They kissed gently on the cheeks and embraced for a long time.

Laure appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised in unspoken question, steaming mug in hand.

The men parted and Gilou wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Tintin patted his shoulder in support as he left the room.

"Can I not leave you alone for a minute before you get another lover?" She asked, a smile playing across her lips.

After checking the room was still empty of other colleagues, he moved to her, holding her and kissing her moistly on the lips.

She responded hungrily. "You keep this up and I'll be forced to go to archives to pleasure myself," she threatened.

He smiled, enjoying the power he had over her, over her body that betrayed her will. They were good together, very sexually compatible and she knew it. It had come as a surprise to him, though.

"Archives is where I was going," he whispered huskily his own desire matching hers.

They found a secluded section in the archives, and he sat her forcibly on the desk, pulling her trousers and pants down around her ankles. At work she had always been the boss, and they had both loved that, but her body soon betrayed her need for him and made her powerless. She kissed his neck as he came and lost herself in the moment, able to think of nothing else but their own pleasure.

As she pulled her clothes back on, she shuddered with emotion and Gilou, still leaning on her felt the tremor. He softly stroked her face and jaw. He knew her better than she knew herself and had a way to make her feel whole again. And it wasn't just the sex. They had endured such horrors, seen such depraved things together, that he had a way of understanding how she felt without her needing to explain. And she had seen his lows too, his drug dependency, his involvement with criminal low life, his relationships that left him feeling he could trust no-one. They knew the worst of each other and still made each other happy. So happy. It frightened her how she felt about him. She hadn't felt like that about anyone else, ever, not Pierre, not Bremont, not even Sami, who had excited her a lot, but she felt guilty for leading him on before his death.

But Gilou, who had been right in front of her for years, who she had leaned on and loved as a friend, had been the one to finally break down her walls and help her to find herself again. Her heart wanted to explode with emotion for him and his generosity.

"What did Tintin want?" She asked, as her ability to switch between them and the practicalities of work, never failed to amaze him. He smiled at her, his thumb still tracing a line along her jaw. He smoothed a stray strand of hair back into place and pulled his jeans up. He'd started to lose weight with all this regular exercise.

"He'd guessed about us." Gilou told her half the truth.

"Had he?" she asked rhetorically. "I should have given him more credit," she mused. "And what was his comment?" she persisted.

"I mean, he loves you," he responded, trying to distract her from the direction she was going in. "He knows how I feel about you. How I've always felt. He teased me."

"Did he now?" She asked, a knowing glint in her eye. "He was worried about you, wasn't he?"

This was the problem with them all working so closely together for so long. They spent more time with each other at work, than if they were married. They knew each other too well.

Gilou shrugged. What could he say? As usual, she was spot on.

She smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I won't mess this up," she promised quietly, almost to herself. Then she smiled more brightly. "How did you feel about me before?" she teased.

"God, Laure, I've been in love with you from the start. You must have known that. I'd have done anything for you. Still would, obviously."

"From the start?" She asked. "For all these years? No, I didn't guess. What did it do to you, to see me with all those men?"

"I mean I coped by having my own fair share of hopeless relationships, Laure. But it was you I wanted. It was always you."

"Really? I never knew."

"Well, it's better that way. If you'd known I wanted you and still taken all the other men home, that would be worse."

"I suppose. God I'm such a fool. To think we could have been enjoying all this amazing sex together for all those years!"

Gilou smiled, touched by her honesty and tenderness. It did hurt him to think of her with other men, but he had not been a saint. They had found each other now and that was what was important.

"So the sex is amazing?" He asked loudly, as they walked past the elderly clerk of the archives, on their way back to their offices, a comment designed to embarrass her.

She smiled at him, a cheeky expression that he loved. "That's right Gilou, sex with you is out of this world!"

It was his turn to feel embarrassed as the clerk gave him a sharp look. On the stairs he stopped her on an empty floor. He held her hand. Quietly he spoke. "Laure, I need to tell you how I feel about you. I love you. I want you. For always."

She met his intense gaze. Her other hand rested on his chest. Their foreheads moved to rest on each other. She drank in his strength, his masculine aroma, his heart beating regularly and next to her. His desire for her. His love. Their potential future together. Fear was her overwhelming emotion, she usually ran from a relationship when men began to say words she couldn't comprehend herself.

But things were different with him. She knew she felt differently about him compared any other man she had ever known. There was still fear, but it was mixed with something else. Maybe hope. And she knew Gilou understood.

"I'm afraid of us. I can't pretend not to be. But I think I love you too. I've never fallen in love with anyone before. I mean that."

"Never?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"No."

"But you think you love me? Or could?"

"Yes Gilou. You're different. I want to make this work."

"God, Laure, you are always full of surprises. Never been in love, at your age."

She punched him gently in the ribs, but then still holding his hand, they continued walking up the staircase to their floor. Her coffee was cold by the time they returned and Tintin's expression was unfathomable. They spent the rest of the morning on paperwork and following up phone calls. By lunchtime, all three of them were restless and keen to get out of the office.

Laure beckoned them, and they all left for the street to find her car. Sitting in a café out of town, away from anyone else, Laure spoke to Tintin.

"Tintin, you know I love you. You're like family to me. It's important to me that you're okay with this."

Tintin looked down. "I love you too Laure. And I love Gilou. I'm just looking out for him, that's all."

"I know you are. And you're a good friend to do so. But I'm not going to mess this up. We're good together."

"You know he loves you? Has done for years. In love with you, the real deal."

She nodded, meeting Tintin's eyes, serious.

"Well, okay then." Tintin leaned across and spontaneously kissed her on the lips. "Will it be this hard letting go of my own children as they get older?" he asked with a sad smile. Laure took his hand and gently squeezed it.

"So now that's all cleared up, what's next boss?" Gilou asked looking at Laure. She smiled at him, always appreciative of his clear acceptance of her in a male dominated job.

"We still need to find Maria and establish what happened to Justine. Who carried out the bodged caesarean and why? Where is the baby if it lived? We still are no further on who killed Laurent and cut him up, but we might have a why. We need some evidence on the Camara brothers, for stealing gold, beating people up and who knows what else. We need evidence on the two bent coppers in Herville's squad and the IPCC investigator. And that 13 year old Enzo needs to be re-interviewed. All in all, I'd say we have plenty to be keeping us busy. Let's grab lunch here and then we'll go our separate ways."

"Okay," the men agreed, falling back into work mode as quickly as their boss.

Back in the office later, they compared findings, before most people began to head home for the day. Soon, it was just Laure and Gilou left in the CID offices as their boss called goodbye across the room.

"I'm beginning to like him more," commented Gilou, ever a comic. "I know we have lots more to do, but what do you say if we go and visit Romy? I'll come with you, if you'd like. I'd like to meet her."

Tears sprang to Laure's eyes as yet again, Gilou was able to sense how she was feeling.

"Okay," she nodded, looking across at him. Gilou moved closer to her to hold her tight.

After they had changed into the hospital gowns, they stood by her bed. Gilou, always the joker, chatted to the nurse, who clearly fancied him. Coming back to the bedside, his arm slid around Laure, leaving the nurse in no doubt of his intentions.

Gilou held Romy with the nurse's help, having never known such a young baby. He spoke to the baby soothingly and the baby responded well, gurgling and holding his fingers. He was relaxed and clearly enjoying it, and Laure marvelled at his ability to fit into any situation.

"See? It's like she knows me!" He exclaimed. "She probably heard us arguing during your pregnancy."

Laure smiled.

"Excuse me, but I thought the other gentleman was the baby's father?" queried the nurse.

"Yes, but we work together," Laure explained. "And we're very close. I split up with Romy's father before I knew I was pregnant."

Gilou passed the baby to Laure. It was true, Romy was more relaxed than she had been on previous visits. Gilou stayed close by, intermittently touching and kissing Laure and Romy.

At the end of their visit, Laure smiled at the nurse, now a firm ally, and took Gilou's hand.

"You make everything better," she said, her eyes wet, her voice serious. She kissed him full on the lips, as the nurse quickly left the room.

"Not here," said Gilou, smirking. "Didn't you see I was in with a chance with that nurse?"

They lay in bed, her head on his chest, listening to the night-time noises of the street mixed with his steady heartbeat. "I don't know how I got by without you," she sighed.

"But don't you see? You were never without me. Although obviously I wasn't in your bed before. More's the pity. But we always helped each other out, Laure. Always."

They fell asleep together, holding each other through the dark Paris night.