"You heard the doctor, Dempsey, it's just a cut and maybe a very mild concussion, I'm fine." He can tell by the look she gives him that she knows he's mad, and he thinks she knows he's not mad at her, but the books he's been reading lately would probably tell him to make that clear.
"I know, it's just…" He shifts closer to her and slides his thumb across her forehead, avoiding the cut as he looks into her eyes, relieved to see that they're clear and focused. "It could have been so much worse, Harry, and I should have gone ahead of you, I should have second guessed that guy, I-"
"It wasn't your fault. I forget I can't quite move as fast these days." She grips his hand and smiles at him. "Listen, I know your transformation to full caveman is almost complete now that we're married and I'm having your baby, but you have got to realise you can't protect me from every little thing, as much as you want to."
"I know." He nods, watching her, wondering how it's possible that she keeps getting more beautiful each day. Now that she's halfway through her pregnancy, she really is glowing, just like all the cliches say. "But you have to realise there's no way you can stop me from trying."
"I know that." She sighs and closes her eyes for just a few seconds. "And, you know, even though it pains me to say it, I think perhaps it's time for me to take a step back. At work, I mean, I think I need to be in the office more. It's just a cut today, but you're right, it could have been worse, and I would never forgive myself if anything happened because I was too stubborn to admit that maybe it's too risky now.."
"Such a waste of those perfect legs though, hidden under a desk all day." He smiles at her, relieved because he's trying so damn hard not to be the caveman she jokes about and he didn't want to be the one to push it, but everytime they're outside the office he feels like their world could come crashing down around them at any minute. "Guess I'll just have to make sure I appreciate them even more at home."
"You've been paying them plenty of attention lately, don't you worry about that." Her smile is soft and warm, and it tells him she knows how hard he's trying. He's determined to be everything his own father wasn't, even though he did try in his own way, and his worry about what she might think about the books he's reading to help him on that road was wiped out in the moment that she kissed him and told him she loves him even more for wanting to be better.
"Maybe because everytime I sit down you seem to be using those perfect legs to climb into my lap, princess." He reaches down and squeezes her thigh, rubbing his thumb softly across her skin.
"Now that I'm not throwing up and feeling terrible, the only thing I seem to want to do is...you." She covers his hand and sighs as his thumb keeps moving up her thigh. "Can't fight these hormones, Dempsey."
"Well, it's my duty as your husband, and as the one who got you into this hormonal mess, to help out whenever I can." This new development over the last few weeks has meant he's the exhausted one while she appears to be made solely of sexual energy, and tired or not, he's more than okay with that. "Not including tonight though because you took a knock on the head today and you need to get some rest."
"I know, I know, and I have to stay home tomorrow." She turns onto her side to face him and smiles. "I know that too."
"I'll lean on the boss, see if I can get out early." He tangles his fingers with hers and returns her smile. "I really should get home as soon as I can and make sure my pregnant wife who, I will remind him, was injured in the line of duty, is doing okay."
"Mm, I'm sure she'll be absolutely fine, but it would probably be sensible to come home so you can really be sure." She scoots forward to kiss him and he feels her belly press against him, something he can't seem to get enough of now there's a small but visible bump; their baby, happily nestled between them. "Can you believe that tomorrow we've been married for a whole month?"
"I know." He rubs his nose against hers and smiles. "Feels like forever."
"In a prison sentence kind of way?" Her smile is wide and it gives him another of those moments when he can't quite believe she's his wife.
"Only if there's a court that realised locking me up for life with my honey would be the best kind of rehab." In a way that's exactly what she is; his rehab, the one who makes him want to be better, and the baby only adds to that desire. "You're sure you're feeling okay?"
"Yes, I'm sure." She kisses him again, and as much as he knows he wouldn't he starts to wonder if he would get away with just calling in tomorrow and telling Spikings he's sick so he can stay home and kiss her all day. "I love you, now please stop worrying and get some sleep."
He can hear the rain hammering hard against the window when he wakes up, and he snuggles instinctively closer to her, sliding his arms around her, resting his hands on her belly, and softly kissing the back of her neck.
"You're awake early…" Her voice is quiet, heavy with sleep, but he can hear the smile in it too.
"So are you." He kisses the back of her neck, grinning against her skin when she shifts slightly and pushes herself back just enough to remind him that he doesn't mind her earlier morning wake ups lately, not at all. "You feeling alright?"
"Mm, another weird dream." She sighs and he guesses it was a strange one rather than one that has upset her the way some of them have. "We had a kitten instead of a baby, and nobody seemed to think that was at all strange except me. People were even buying little dresses for her, and shoes, like it was totally normal."
"I guess the kitten didn't look like either one of us either. Your eyes, my hair?" He grins, thinking of her being the only one to notice it was strange, imagining her frustration at people handing over gifts like nothing was wrong. "Dresses? A girl then, huh?"
"A kitten, Dempsey. An actual cat where there should have been a baby!" He can hear the mix of disbelief and amusement in her voice and he can somehow hear her smile even though she's facing away from him. "But yes, I suppose if people were buying dresses they must have thought we had a little girl."
"Is that why you're not trying to go back to sleep even though it feels like it's barely even morning right now?" He pushes her hair aside and kisses the back of her neck, her soft, warm skin making him forget the sound of the rain outside. "Just in case in the next dream we have an alligator or something."
"Not really, I'm just...well, I'm awake now. And so are you. And I won't see you all day because you'll be at work and I'll be here, home all alone. Bored and drowning under the weight of all these hormones with no husband around to help me deal with them..." She lifts his hand and slides it under her long, loose t-shirt, pushing his fingers lower, under her belly, making it clear what she wants. She pushes back against him and sighs softly. "Ah, seems like you're already good to go, handsome."
"Hey, I'm a guy…" He slides his hand in between her legs and feels her foot run slowly down his shin. "I just woke up, and my hot pregnant wife is polishing my crown jewels with her perfect ass…"
"Well then, I think you should put your jewels to good use and give your wife what she needs." She sighs and shifts slightly, tilting her hips and wrapping her foot around his leg. "Now, honey...I swear I'm going to explode if you don't get inside me soon."
Damn, this constant need of hers is killing him in all the best ways. She's always been at her sexiest when she's telling him what she wants, when she's taking none of his crap, and she's even hotter when she's demanding what she needs from him between the sheets. He's not an idiot - well, not all the time, anyway - so he lifts her leg and does as he's told, sliding forward to push himself slowly inside her.
"Oh my God…" She moans and he lets his teeth scrape down the side of her neck in response to the way she moves against him. "I love you."
"I should warn you this might be closer to a sprint than a marathon, babe…" His breath catches as she pushes his hand more firmly against her and moans when his fingers start to move in the way he knows she loves.
"I'm all for quality over quantity…" Her breath hitches and she squirms slightly under his touch. "Oh, God, keep doing that…"
There's something about the sound of the rain outside, the tickle of her hair under his chin, and the soft pressure of her hand on his as he moves his fingers against her that makes him want to stay here forever. Screw work, let the rest of the team cope without them, they've got really great morning sex to be getting on with and right now it feels like the most important thing in the world. She's struggling a little lately with how her body is changing, she's admitted that to him, and he wishes she could see things the way he does, how beautiful her new curves and slight softness are, how he feels it right in the centre of his chest when he sees her hand drift unconsciously across her belly sometimes.
"You're so beautiful, Harry." He murmurs the words softly into her shoulder, needing to remind her of how perfect she is, how she's always going to be beautiful to him, even on the days he catches her frowning at herself in the mirror, apparently seeing some kind of flaw that's completely invisible to him, possibly to the naked eye in general. "You feel so good…"
He knows when she's close because he knows how her breathing changes, he recognises the tempo, knows when she's reached the border where her breath crosses into a moan, sometimes a small but very audible yelp, and it edges him closer too. He loves the moment when she lets go, he loves to feel her tremble under his fingers just before her whole body seems to shudder in the release she needs. This morning he's right there with her, his lips trailing over her shoulder as he pushes harder into her, groaning against her as he peaks, feeling her fingers grasp his tightly as their breathing starts to slow down.
"Mm, that was absolutely bloody glorious." She turns in his arms and presses her lips against his in a slow, satisfied kiss.
"It's definitely not the worst way to start the morning." He kisses her neck and she sighs, snuggling closer to him, her sigh morphing into a yawn. "Get some more sleep, honey, the doctor said you need to get some rest. I probably should get up and get ready for work anyway."
"I know I'm going to have to get used to it soon enough, but I don't know that I like the idea of you going to work without me." She's cute when she pouts and it makes him smile because she hates it when he calls her cute, but when she's looking at him like that, all sad eyes and stubborn bottom lip it's the only description that fits. "I'm going to have to call you later and make sure you're keeping out of trouble. You know that, don't you?"
"Not if I call you first to make sure you're not cleaning the windows or some such shit when you're meant to be resting up." He leans in and kisses her again, her sleepy gaze and the lingering hint of a pout too powerful a combination to resist. "How about you make like you're my little 1950s wife, just for today?"
"You're sailing close to the wind here, mister." She grins and runs her thumb across his bottom lip.
"You're only letting it slide because I just gave you such a sweet start to your day, right?" He smirks at her and pushes her hair out of her eyes, relieved that the cut on her head looks fine, and the bruising surrounding it is no worse this morning. "And maybe because you've got my little bun in your oven…"
"Without this little bun in my oven…" She pauses to yawn again and he hopes that means she'll be able to get some more sleep after he leaves for work. "I probably wouldn't be your wife at all, 1950s style or otherwise."
There's a smile playing on her lips so he doesn't think she's completely serious, but he wonders where that came from, even the idea that she might not have married him if she wasn't pregnant unnerves him. He knows he's in danger of reading too much into what was no doubt just a flippant early morning comment and he's determined to try not to.
"Yeah, you're probably right. It's a good thing I got you knocked up then, I guess." He forces a smile and squeezes her hand. "I should probably get moving before Spikings gets on the phone and starts hollering for me."
"Dempsey…" She frowns and he should have known she'd pick up on his tone, that she knows his forced smiles every bit as well as he knows hers, but he doesn't want to make a thing of something that he's almost certain she didn't mean. He's annoyed with himself for letting it bother him even a little. "I didn't mean it like that, I-"
"Try to get some more sleep, honey." He doesn't mean to cut her off but he knows himself well enough by now to know he's being irrational and he doesn't want to fight with her. "I should take a shower."
The hot spray of the shower gives him time to think, to breathe, but he still has no idea why he just reacted the way he did. Things have been so good, even more so in the weeks since they got married, they seem calmer together, like the certainty of the commitment somehow settled both of them, proved that it was what they both wanted. He knows she wanted to marry him just as much as he wanted to marry her, and she's the one who wanted to do it soon, so he knows he's an idiot for getting riled up about this. Stepping out of the shower and throwing a towel around his waist, he knows he needs to apologise to her.
"Harry…" When he walks back into the bedroom she's sitting up in bed, arms folded in front of her, frowning as she stares off at nothing.
"You know me better than anybody ever has or ever will. Do you really think I would have married you if I didn't want to?" She doesn't give him a chance to say anything else, and she's hurt rather than angry, he knows the difference between those tones. He feels a bolt of guilt run through him because she was injured yesterday, she's meant to be resting, and he should be making that easier, not harder. "Well?"
"You didn't want to get married the first time but you went ahead with it anyway." He doesn't know why he said that, it's a cheap shot and he knows it.
"That's not fair, Dempsey." It is unfair, she's right, and he came out of the bathroom intending to apologise so he doesn't know why he hasn't just done that. "I was young, my father wasn't talking to me, and my ex-husband was a manipulative, controlling piece of shit-"
"Right, and sometimes I feel like I'm being tarred with the same damn brush even though I'm none of those things, and that feels pretty fucking unfair too, Harry." He steps closer to the bed and he doesn't miss the way her gaze roams across his chest and down to the slightly too short towel slung around his hips before she looks up at him.
"That's not...I've never compared you to him and I never would. You're nothing like him. You're sweet and loving and you make me feel beautiful and sexy, you make me feel special, you make me feel...safe. You're everything he isn't." She sighs and he wonders if she's even aware of her hand softly cradling her belly as she talks. "I love you, you bloody idiot. That's why I married you."
"And because you're pregnant." He quite literally wants to punch himself in the face for not just dropping this.
"You know that's not what I meant! What I meant is that maybe we wouldn't have been married quite yet, not that we wouldn't ever get married at all. Maybe we'd have taken our time, planned it so your family could make it over here, timed it so we could go on honeymoon somewhere, you know, those sorts of things." She stops and when he sees her eyes fill with tears that she tries angrily to blink back he moves over to sit on the bed beside her, needing to put a stop to this right now. "Is that what you really think? That I only married you because of the baby and now I wish I hadn't?"
"No. Honey, no, that's not what I think at all." He reaches for her hand, squeezing her fingers in his and moving closer to her. "Shit, I'm sorry, I-"
"For the record, I'm not crying." She reaches for her face but he stops her hand and replaces it with his own, running his thumb across her cheekbone to catch the escaping tears. "These are completely involuntary tears. Bloody hormones."
"I'm sorry." He kisses her cheek, his guilt mingling with the salty taste of her tears, and he feels her hand grasp his a little tighter. He kisses her again, a soft touch of his lips at the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry."
"Where did that come from, Dempsey?" She brings her hand to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers lightly tickling his skin, her eyes wide as she focuses on him. "Hmm? How did we go from that really good one month married celebration to you somehow deciding I didn't really want to marry you at all?"
"Can we just accept I'm an idiot and leave it at that?" He sighs, absolutely feeling like an idiot and not really sure at all what the hell he was thinking. "I'm sorry, princess, I really am. You got a crack to the head yesterday, you're meant to be resting up, and me acting like a total asshole isn't exactly going to help with that."
"Would you just stop apologising? And how many times do I have to tell you my head feels fine? Now shut up for just a minute and listen to me." She shuffles forward slightly awkwardly and smiles when he instinctively slides a protective arm around her. "I married you because I love you, and baby or no baby, I would have married you anyway. You are not, in any way, comparable to the despicable man I chose to marry the first time around because, frankly, having a baby with him would have been the worst thing imaginable, and having this baby with you is the complete opposite of that. I don't know what else I can say."
"You don't have to say anything else. I don't know what the hell I was thinking." His arm tightens around her, pulling her closer, and her head comes to rest against his shoulder.
"You know you could have just pulled me up on it instead of assuming the worst." She slides her hand onto his arm and looks up at him, smiling. "Had you just said 'wait, are you saying you only agreed to marry me because of the baby?', I would have said no, don't be ridiculous, I married you because I can't imagine my life without you, and we could have saved ourselves a fight."
"Yeah, I know." He leans in and kisses her, smiling as he pulls back. "I was about to say sorry again but I feel like that might be what makes you wish you hadn't married me."
"Well, it's too late now anyway. The deed is done...actually, more than one deed." She smiles and rubs her belly. "As much as I'd be happy for us both to get back into bed, you probably should get moving."
"I know." He sighs, knowing the only work he'll probably get done today is persuading Spikings to let him head home early. "You want some tea before I go, or breakfast?"
"No, I'm fine. I'm going to stay in bed for a while and then soak in the bath." She smirks at him and there's a glint in her eyes that he loves. "You know what you could do for me though?"
"What can I do for you?" He takes her hand and runs his thumb across her knuckles as he smiles at her. "Anything, baby."
"Drop that towel the same way you did that very first day I came to pick you up." She winks at him and he laughs, remembering that day well, mostly because he's lucky she didn't shoot him with
his own damn gun. "Give me something nice to look at before you go."
"Oh, I can definitely do that." He stands up and turns, whipping the towel from around his waist and glancing over his shoulder to grin at her as he gets to the door. "I knew you couldn't resist a peek at my ass that day."
The first thing he notices when he walks through the door is the sweet, unmistakable smell of baking. The second thing is chocolate, so whatever is baking is clearly chocolate related...hell, there's a reason he made detective.
"Harry?" He drops his keys beside the door, hangs up his coat, and when he follows his nose to the kitchen he stops in the doorway, worrying when he spots her sitting on the floor even though she's smiling at him. "What are you doing?"
"Making a cake." Her smile grows wider but he's still confused.
"Yeah, but…" He points at where she's sitting, leaning against the kitchen wall, a streak of chocolate across her cheek and even more down the front of her sweatshirt- actually, his sweatshirt. "Why are you on the floor?"
"Oh…" She looks at him like she's just realised why he might be just a little bit surprised to come home and find her on the kitchen floor. "When I'm making a cake I like to sit and watch it for the last five minutes."
"You want some company down there?" He walks over to her, grinning at her and sitting down next to her when she nods. "Are we watching in case something goes wrong?"
"Nope." She smiles at him and leans her head against his shoulder. "I just like to watch it bake for the last few minutes. It's the best part, like the end of a beautiful piece of music, or the final few minutes of a really good film."
"What's with the baking?" He reaches for her hand, pulls it into his lap and runs his thumb slowly across her knuckles. "Are we going with the baby craving chocolate cake?"
"Well, seeing as it's our one month wedding anniversary today I thought I'd bake something." She turns her hand over and tangles her fingers tightly in his. "And I know you never say no to chocolate cake, which is probably why the baby craves it so much too."
"You have chocolate on your face, honey." His finger moves to her cheek, and he wipes the smear of chocolate from her skin before licking his finger clean and smiling at her raised eyebrows.
"I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear there's a very chocolatey bowl on the counter that you can help me with as soon as this cake is done…" She smiles at him and leans in closer. She smells of chocolate and sugar, and if he didn't value his balls he's pretty sure he'd beg her to stay home and bake every damn day. "I was thinking about this morning, and I thought...I don't know, I just thought we should have cake."
"I can't argue with that." He knows the combination of the baby, the commitment of marrying her, and all the damn books he's been reading are helping to make him calmer so he doesn't quite know why he reacted the way he did this morning. "I guess I should be glad you're getting cold feet now and not before I got that ring on your finger and made it a whole lot harder for you to run."
"Shut up. That's not it, and you know it. We cleared this up this morning, we're not going over it again." She sighs before leaning in to kiss him, her lips as soft and sweet as the smile on her face when she pulls back to look at him. "I love you, you idiot."
"How's your head?" He strokes his finger gently across her forehead. "You feeling okay?"
"I feel fine. I had a tiny bit of a headache after you left this morning but then I slept for a while and soaked in the bath for ages and it's okay now, I promise." She smiles and he lets his finger move from her temple to trail slowly down her cheek. "How was your day? Was it a terrible glimpse into how bleak your days will be in a few months when I'm not there?"
"It was. I missed you." He sighs because she's right, his days are going to feel longer and duller without her by his side, a realisation that hit him hard today. "I think I'm going to drive the boss crazy without you there."
"Even more than usual? Impressive." She lets out a soft laugh and squeezes his hand. "You're going to need to help me up so I can take the cake out of the oven."
He stands and watches as she takes the cake out of the oven and sets it onto the rack to cool, concentration in her eyes and the trace of a contented smile on her lips. She reaches into the bowl and scoops up some chocolate, smirking at him, her eyes locked on his as she sucks the chocolate slowly from her finger. Her next dip into the bowl finds its way into his mouth and he knows that look on her face, it's the look he's seen a lot over the last few, hormone crazy weeks, so he wraps his hand around her wrist and his tongue around her finger, unsurprised when she lets out a whimper in response.
"I don't know if there's more chocolate in that bowl or down the front of your sweatshirt." He grins, lets her wrist drop and runs his finger down the front of the shirt. "Technically my sweatshirt but what's mine is yours, honey."
"Sometimes baking is messy." She shrugs and pulls the sweatshirt off over her head in one move and drops it to the floor, standing in front of him in yoga pants and a bra, smirking at him.
"Well, hello, ladies…" He can't help himself, the new development in that area is something he can't get enough of and she knows it as she bites her lip and pushes herself closer to him.
"The ladies missed you today." He grins at her, knowing this is going the same way almost every evening has been going since this new phase of pregnancy kicked in. The mornings too, if today was any indication. "And I did too."
"You did, huh?" He runs his thumb slowly across the lace at the top of the bra and she moans faintly.
"You know how it is lately, Dempsey. I want you..." She leans in and kisses him, sliding her hands inside his shirt and scraping her nails lightly down his chest. "I want you to do things to me all the time...your baby might want cake but your wife wants something else."
"You should have called." He dips his finger into the bowl again and holds a chocolate covered finger up in front of her, grinning as her eyes widen. "I'm sure I could have said there was an emergency and I needed to leave."
"Mm, I could have called, you're right…" She stares at his hand and pouts when he licks the chocolate from his finger, the chocolate she thought was destined for her. "But I don't think your ridiculously horny wife counts as an emergency."
"Oh, I think she does." This time he covers his finger in chocolate and lets it drip slowly and deliberately onto her skin as he pushes her gently back against the wall and moves his head down to taste her. "I can't think of a bigger emergency than this right now."
His tongue swirls slowly across her collarbone, lapping up the chocolate with the enthusiasm of a cat in a bowl of milk, and he smiles against her skin when he feels her hand move into his hair and hears her breath quicken. His lips move higher, to where her neck meets her shoulder, the home of his favourite of all her freckles, the one that marks the spot that he loves, the place his tongue knows to go when he wants to make her melt beneath him. His teeth scrape across her skin and she moans as she tightens her fingers in his hair, pulling hard enough that he groans against the side of her neck. She wriggles and he feels her legs part slightly, just enough for his thigh to slide between them, her foot running up his leg as she grinds against him. This aggressively horny Harry is everything he was thinking about this afternoon when Spikings was telling him something about...well, something Harry probably would have listened to had she been there.
She described the way she feels as a constant desire bubbling under her skin that the minute he touches her has her ready to explode, and it's sure as hell keeping him on his toes. He never knows when she's going to climb into his lap, shove him into a wall and kiss him, or rub herself against him just like she's doing right now. He's been worrying about her today, annoyed with himself for his reaction this morning, and wondering if he was going to get home to find her mad at him even though they talked it out before he left for work. Instead he's gotten home to find a cake in the oven and his beautiful wife desperate for him to get her off, a far better welcome than any man has a right to expect.
"Kiss me…" She tugs on his hair and he lifts his head, grinning up at her, noting her flushed cheeks and bright eyes as she looks at him. "And keep doing that with your thigh."
"My thigh isn't doing a damn thing, baby…" He shifts his leg and she bites back a moan. "You're the one riding it like a Harley."
He grins and then his lips cover hers and his hands move to cup her face, his thumbs rubbing in small circles across her jaw. He feels her arms wrap around him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he kisses her. She breaks the kiss and buries her face into his neck, pushing herself closer and lifting her knee high enough for him to hold onto, his hand sliding under her thigh and pulling her tighter to him. She doesn't reach for his hand, she doesn't move her own hand where he thinks she might, she just nibbles lightly on the side of his neck and rocks herself harder against his thigh. Pressed against the kitchen wall, the smell of freshly baked chocolate cake filling the room, him still fully dressed, her in yoga pants and a bra is really not how he figured he'd be making her come for the second time today but here he is, feeling her tremble in his hold, her breath hot against his neck.
"Well, that was quite the welcome after a tough day at the office." He feels her leg slip from his hold and her hands roam up and down his back, her lips still pressed to his neck.
"I didn't say these constant urges were at all dignified…" Her voice is muffled slightly against him but he can hear the giggle in her tone threatening to burst out.
"Dignity is overrated, honey." She pulls her head from his neck and grins up at him, a sweet yet sexy mix of pink cheeks, messy hair, and a faint hint of embarrassment. "If you need to climb me like an excitable puppy on a tree then I'm sure as hell not going to complain."
"Would I be right in thinking that if I sit in your lap while we eat cake you won't complain about that either?" She eases herself out from her position between him and the wall and takes his hand, pulling him with her as she moves to where the cake sits on the counter.
"Damn right." He steps behind her and wraps arms around her, settling his hands on her belly and closing his eyes as she leans back against him. "No complaints from me. No complaints at all."