On the long drive down to Toronto, John had plenty of time to reflect on his feelings for Lise and where they might lead.

He was proud that she asked him to this gala; proud that she wanted him on her arm. There was part of him that had wondered, if they had a relationship, how would she feel introducing him - someone technically old enough to be her father - to her new friends or colleagues? Although he tried not to dwell on their age difference, there were times he found it impossible not to.

He would stare at himself in the mirror sometimes and look at the lines that littered his face, see the grey in his beard and temples, and question why she would ever want him. She could have someone her own age, or younger even. While John was fit for his age, the number cast a shadow over him whenever he was forced to wear his reading glasses, or on those occasions he couldn't keep up with Lise at the gym without needing a break.

He felt apprehensive too for another reason. On his previous trip down, his primary goal had, at least on the surface, been to see Kelly, so it was only natural that he would book a hotel for the night as she had no room for him to sleep; this trip was different however. This time Lise has asked him to come, just for her, but made no mention of sleeping arrangements. Was he meant to assume he would stay with her or otherwise? To ask felt almost rude, like he would be insulting her to not know. John debated before finally deciding he was better safe than sorry and booked a hotel, just in case. If Lise really did see this more as a friendship and was simply desperate for accompaniment rather than seeing it as a date, his pride at least would remain intact.

His sat nav guided him into the parking lot of her building, and after a few seconds and a steadying breath, he got out of the car and headed for her door.

"Hi," Lise greeted him brightly, eyes sparkling. She was dressed down in leggings and a t-shirt, hair pulled back and face free of makeup, and it was a look John suddenly realised he found curiously irresistible. Swallowing, he pulled himself together and saw Lise had noticed his lack of luggage. "You can get your bags from the car if you want…"

"I uh," he said, swallowing again as he shifted awkwardly. "I booked a hotel, I didn't know if…"

Lise nodded, finding his hesitancy to assume anything about their relationship - even if they had already slept together - sweetly old fashioned. "If you can get a refund, I'd really like it if you'd stay here, with me," she offered. "I can take the couch if-"

"No," he interrupted. "I'd never ask you to do that, it's your bed after all." Lise's heart sank a bit, fearing that maybe he did only want a friendship. Seeing her crestfallen expression, John decided to be brave and say what he really wanted to. "And I...I'd like it if we could…" he struggled getting his words out, his mouth dry with irrational nerves. "I'd like it if we could sleep...together, in the same bed."

Lise's face filled with relief and her eyes beamed warmly. "I'd like that too."

"I'll go and get my bags," John affirmed, "and...cancel that hotel," he added with a wry smile. Turning on his heel to complete said tasks, he let out a sigh of relief, gratefully to finally be sure that he and Lise were on the exact same page.


"The Uber is here!" John called to Lise from the living room. She'd been getting ready for close to an hour now, but he knew enough about women to realise that would be considered a short amount of time for some.

"OK, I'm ready," she said nervously as she rounded the corner and came into view. She was wearing a long, strapless crimson gown; it was probably the most thought she'd ever put into an outfit in her whole life, she realised when she was doing yet another round of late-night online window shopping to find the perfect dress.

"Wow," John said breathily, "you look...amazing."

"Thanks," Lisa blushed, nervously touching her freshly blow dried hair, aware that John had only seen her with her hair down a handful of times. "My feet are going to be in ribbons by the end of the night in these heels," she joked, deflecting what could've turned into a deeper moment. "You look great too."

"Thanks, been a while since I wore one of these," John smiled, gesturing to his tuxedo. "Ready to go?" he asked brightly, cocking his head to the side.

"Ready," she grinned, taking his outstretched hand.

After they'd arrived at the imposingly large venue, they were handed drinks, and then it was time to mingle, Lise realised reluctantly. She never was a fan of parties, let alone ones that had to do with work.

"I work with those two," Lise told John distrectly, seeing they men on the other side of the room had already noticed her presence. She could tell even from a distance away that John was likely the topic they were talking closely about.

"Want to go over?" John offered, picking up on his date's hesitance.

"Yeah, we should," Lise admitted.

John gripped her hand reassuringly tightly in his own as they made the walk across the room.

"Hi Lise," the grey haired older of the two, Alex, offered when she and John walked over.

"Hi," she smiled. "These are Detectives Alex Cooper and Chris Johnson," Lise introduced the men to John, nodding her head to them respectively when she said their names. "This is John, my…" she suddenly realised she had no idea how to introduce him, their relationship still unquantified. "My-"

"Her partner," John interjected boldly, sticking out his hand and shaking with the men.

Lise looked at him apprehensively, relief flooding through her body when he gave her the kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes, his hand settling reassuringly on the small of her back.

"So, what do you do, John?" Chris, the younger and cockier of the pair, asked.

"I'm a Detective," he told him. "Up in Algonquin Bay."

Chris furrowed his brow in thought. "You look so familiar… You didn't used to work in Toronto, did you?"

John swallowed. "I uh, I did, a while back."

"That's right!" Chris exclaimed upon having a eureka moment. "Cardinal, isn't it? You had a, erm…" he paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it, "a wife with some...issues, right?" He flashed his workmate a glance and got back a subtle but knowing grin.

"I did," John admitted.

"Not together now then or...?" probed Alex, red faced as always, piggybacking on the conversation.

"No, she...she passed away."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I had no idea…" Alex scrambled, desperately trying to keep his head above water.

John shook his head. "It's fine," he told the Detective with little conviction.

"You know, I should really go and find my wife," Chris spoke up after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, me too," Alex chimed in, eager for an escape. "It was nice to meet you, John."

"You too," John nodded. "And you," he added, directing his comments at Chris.

Chris smiled tightly. "Thanks, see you around."

"I'm sorry about that," he said to Lise discreetly, as the men walked away.

"Don't be," she told him nonchalantly. "They should be the ones apologising, they're assholes."

John let out a soft snort of laughter. "I was so caught up worrying about how they'd judge me for my age," he confessed, unable to stop his thoughts from flowing out of his mouth, "that I didn't even think about anyone remembering..." he let the sentence trail off, preferring not to use Catherine's name.

Lise froze for a moment before turning to look at him. "You were worried about that?"

John offered nothing but a few seconds of silence as he looked into Lise's eyes. "C'mon, I think dinner is starting," he eventually said, grabbing her hand and leading her in the direction of their table.


They had a nice time at the gala, and thankfully any interactions John had with Lise's other colleagues seemed to go more smoothly than the first one. Lise could tell by the way some of the other women looked her way that they were a little envious of her date, even when she and John made an attempt at dancing that ended with them both laughing at their own ineptitude.

By the time they got home, they were both tired, and truthfully, a little buzzed from one too many glasses of champagne. While neither acknowledged it, that extra glass they had each taken was partly to quell the nerves of what their night together might hold.

"Coffee?" Lise asked as they walked through her front door.

"Yeah," John agreed, pulling his already loosened bow tie all the way off and unfastening a couple of buttons near the neck of his shirt.

"My feet are killing me," Lise groaned, kicking off her heels. "Let me just change into something else," she continued as she headed to the bedroom. "You can make the coffee if you want."

By the time Lise returned, now dressed in an oversized t-shirt and leggings, John was sitting on the sofa, two cups of steaming coffee on the table, his jacket now also removed.

"Here," he gestured, patting his lap after Lise had sat down beside him, "I give a pretty good foot massage."

"You don't have to…"

He didn't reply, but gave her a look she recognised to mean that he was genuine with his offer and that he knew she wanted to say yes, so really she would save herself a lot of hassle to just agree.

Swinging round, she lay on the coach with her legs outstretched, bare feet in John's lap.

"Oh wow," Lise said with surprise, "you weren't lying when you said you were good at this."

John just smiled, deciding now wasn't the time to confess his skills had been finely honed on Catherine.

"What you said earlier when I introduced you," Lise eventually worked up the courage to ask after a few moments of silence, not quite brave enough to look at him when she spoke, "about being my partner..." She looked at his face now. "Did you mean that?"

"Yes," he swallowed, fixing her gaze, "I did."

"And you didn't mean work partner…" she asked, double checking what she already knew.

"We're not work partners anymore. And I...I want us to be more than that...a different kind of partners."

Lise nodded, a smile breaking through. "Me too, it's just we've never really talked about what this is...about what we are. I mean, this," she gestured between them, "is great but…"

John nodded in understanding. "You want more." His heart warmed at her smile. "I do too," he admitted, giving a smile of his own. "Can I...can I kiss you now?"

"Yes," Lise answered without hesitation. After swiftly moving back into a normal sitting position with her feet on the ground, she leaned over and pressed her lips against John's, not giving him the chance to go first. The resulting kiss was as sweet and tender as she'd ever experienced.

"You know," John said when they parted, "I almost said boyfriend, but the idea of it...it sounds like I'm back in high school."

Lise laughed. "Do you think we'd have gotten along in high school?"

"You mean apart from the fact I finished high school…" he quickly did the mental calculations, "...four years before you were born?"

Lise rolled her eyes, not liking him getting hung up over their age difference. "You know what I mean, don't be obtuse," she said, giving him a playful nudge. "I bet you were on the debate team."

John snorted. "Actually...I played football in high school."

"You were a jock?" she asked him in disbelief.

"Well, I wouldn't say that...I may have also, occasionally, been found at chess club. But yeah, I was good at sports," he shrugged, "and that got me on the football team. How about you? Any cheerleading in your past?"

It was Lise's turn to snort. "Hardly, I hung around with kind of the…" she searched for the right word, "alternative crowd I guess? We started this awful band, and I think we kept the local Hot Topic in business." She could tell from John's expression that he had no idea about the store to which she was referring, something she found oddly endearing. "Anyway, cheerleading was the last thing I would've been caught dead doing."

"I've never seen pictures of you when you were younger," John remarked. "If you have any, I'd like to."

"I think my parents have some, I'll have to get them to take some pictures and send them over. I'd like to see pictures of you too."

"They're in a box up at the cottage." John was struck with an idea. "Next time you have a few days, we should go up there, I'd love for you to see it."

"I'd like that too," she smiled, kissing him gently. Tired of dancing around her feelings, she kissed him harder now, with more intention. John took at second to respond, but soon their tongues were melding together in a slow and passionate dance.

Wanting to feel skin, John's hand ghosted under the hem at the back of her t-shirt and he pulled Lise even closer, before his fingers stroked her back in a rhythmic motion while his lips moved to her jaw.

"You know, as much as I liked you in that dress, I think I like you even more in this," he whispered, his lips so close to her ear that his breath tickled it and made her shudder.

"Mm-hmm," Lise hummed, smiling as she revelled in the sensation. It was her turn to search for skin to touch now, and her hand snaked between them and under John's shirt, the electricity of her touch making him jump a little and in turn lose focus on the task at hand. When Lise's hand went lower and her fingers inched down the front of his pants, he was compelled to stop her.

"I erm, I don't want this to be over before it starts," he told her with a nervous laugh. "I'd like us to at least make it to the bedroom."

Lise nodded in understanding, "Bedroom then?" she said, brow raised mischievously.

"Bedroom," John nodded, grinning.

Lise stood and bent to kiss him fervidly, breaking off to grab his hand and lead him to their destination. Clothes were hastily shed as they made their way into the bedroom and over to the bed.

"So beautiful," John whispered in reverie, his fingers tracing the curves of her body as Lise lay below him, completely exposed. She found herself feeling bashful; while this may not have been the first time he'd seen her naked, it was the first time he had studied her body in such detail.

Pulling his head down, she crushed his lips to hers as an act of acknowledgement over how much his soft touch and honeyed words meant to her. As a further expression of her gratitude, her hands slipped lower on John's body and she dipped her head to follow.

"No," he said, stilling her with a firm but gentle touch. "This is about you."

"John…" she protested.

"The first time we were together, I uh…" he blushed slightly. "I was a bit...overwhelmed, but I want to take my time this time."

Lise gave a smile, seeing how nervous he was and realising he'd clearly been thinking about this for a while. "You don't have to prove anything," she reassured him, reaching out and touching his face, "but, I'm OK with taking it slower."

John paid close attention to every shudder her body gave, and to every gasp that came from her mouth. By the time he was finished, she was so caught up that she lost the ability to think in anything over than French, and curse words came from her mouth accordingly.

Spent, they lay there for a few minutes in a heap, neither of them having the energy or desire to move. Eventually, John moved to lay besides Lise.

"I should go and pee," she reluctantly told him, not wanting to break the moment, but also mindful of how painful UTIs could be.

John nodded and pulled her towards him for a brief kiss.

When Lise returned from the bathroom, she saw John's face brighten as she entered the room, and he shifted slightly in the bed so she could slide in beside him. She found a comfortable spot with her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. He placed a kiss on her head before absent mindedness stroking her hair, their breathing and the gentle ticking of a clock the only sounds.

"I erm," John began, glancing down at Lise to check that while her eyes were closed, she was still awake. "The thing is...the thing is that I love you."

Lise didn't react, her eyes remained closed and John was about to write it off as a failed declaration that she'd slept through, before she surprised him by speaking.

"I know," she told him, finally looking up at him.

"You do?" he asked.

"Yeah," Lise reaffirmed, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile, "because I love you, too."