Harry didn't mind him invading her space now. Back when he first kissed her, when they'd only just met, she'd been insulted. Throwing his drink in his face and slapping him wasn't entirely innocent of meaning. He seemed to have slowed down a little, he still threw caution to the wind and would kiss her but she was familiar enough with him to know when he would. The look that offered a small apology for what he was to do.
It didn't used to bother her that he treated her like she was his only girl, even if, in real life that wasn't true. Lately he had said she was when he was being his usual irritating self. That bothered her more.
And so here they were, playing a couple again. This time, being bored in a block of flats - or apartment as Dempsey called them, which had become infectious much to his delight. It was an expensive high rise, with hallways that had ears and eyes, gardens with tall plant pots, perfect for secluded hide outs and unnervingly high balconies.
Dempsey seemed to be on a mission to get a rise out of her on this case. Harry was reminded of playing with cousins and assorted children when she was growing up. Trouble was, as an only child, she was out of practice. That innocence was long gone and Dempsey wasn't a relative. She found herself wanting to kick him or kiss him. Love and hate were beginning to be close bedfellows.
He'd given her the main bedroom and he had slept on the sofa, but his stuff was all around her. A neighbour had dropped in and saw the pillow and blanket in the sofa. She'd sneezed loudly and pretended to have a bad cold. Bad night. Since then, Dempsey had upped the husband role into newly wed to maintain the act. His arm seemed to be glued to her waist and she'd almost almost got used to him kissing her cheek.
Troubled, Harry watched him now from the kitchen window as he lifted a bag of groceries into his arms. Giving a tentative wave, she firmly acknowledged her problem. Would she blow their cover by shutting him out or her own first and admit that she had feelings for her partner. And then there was the cooking. He seems to be seducing her by means of pasta.
She hears him chatting outside in the hallway with John, the neighbour from the opposite flat and finds herself looking forward to seeing him.
XXXXXXX
"Dempsey!"
He walked into the bedroom again to collect his shirt. For the millionth time he forgot to warn her. He seemed perfectly at ease wandering around without any clothing. Not for the first time she wondered about parading in her undies, except he'd take it as an invitation.
"Can you please knock?" Was he making a pass at her, the thought riddled through her mind and she decided to ignore it. It was a poor one if it was.
Dempsey tried to avert his eyes but not before noting a glimpse of black lace as she buttoned up her blouse. "Sorry, habitual."
"You mean you walk in on every woman that stays at your place?"
"Not, not that I remember." He pulls a tie from the closet.
"Not that you remember?" Harry parrots back at him, confused.
"Yeah, loooooong dry spell.." He muttered, and walked out. She looked at his retreating back and wondered who he was waiting for.
They're going to the neighbours from across the hall, John and Carla. They've been watching them for a week and finally, after exchanging pleasantries from across the street, they've scored an invite to a drinks party. First she's going back to SI-10 to collect the bugging equipment and brief Chas.
"See you later." Harry never said that when she was in the office.
"Kiss goodbye?" He grinned and she rolled her eyes.
XXXXXXX
Harry returned in a few hours and looks around the place in quiet amazement, her thoughts turning to his various flats. Though this temporary home contains just enough evidence for a newly married couple, it was mind-boggling how Dempsey had begun to inhabit all the corners with his presence and his stuff. Now he's stood at the sink washing up, like a testimony to domesticity, humming a tune under his breath.
"Thank you." Harry took the offered cup of tea and briefed him on the latest news from the office. He dried up and only then sat down to look at the bugs, forming a plan of where to put them. She went to the bedroom to change for the party.
Harry looked at the wardrobe she was sharing with him. Her row of unfamiliar clothing, necessary for this part, next to Dempsey's suits. She paused, liking the way they looked together, side by side in a traditional way. It only went to remind her of how opposite she was to Dempsey.
Quickly freshening up and running curling irons through her hair, Harry found a short-sleeved, fitted navy dress and slipped it over her head. It'll do fine.
"Are you okay?" Dempsey tapped on the door. "Not chasing you, just checking." As if he was afraid of upsetting their delicate dance.
She can't reach the zip, "Can you help?"
He quietly entered and regarded her for a moment, before crossing the space and slowly, carefully closing the zip on her dress. As she turned, his eyes raked over her, "You look different."
"Will I do?"
"You look beautiful."
"Beautiful?" Harry parroted at him the second time today. What is wrong with her?
"I can't think of a better word, you look amazing." He cleared his throat and she could see him hesitating over his next words, "Our neighbours still think we were fighting. "
"How so?"
"I saw John this morning. He asked if we were alright." Dempsey explained.
She remembered the neighbour whose party they are going to this evening. "What did you say?"
"I repeated that you weren't well but I don't think he bought it." Dempsey ran his hands through his hair as he does when he's nervous. "I don't know Harry. You pull away when I try to touch you. And you're more intolerant of me. You're never like that when we're undercover usually."
Harry stared at him in surprise. She wasn't even aware that he'd noticed her distance. Now it was clear that he had been aware. She tried to scramble for an answer. "Oh. Well that's like a typical unhappily married couple?"
He sighed at this but there was a wistful note in his look when he asked, "Are we unhappy already?"
"No. I just - I don't know, Dempsey. I trust you." Harry decided on honesty since he'd take the first leap. Truth be known, she wanted him to touch her and to really be his 'only girl' as he'd told the neighbours. She was supposed to be his wife and he was doing a job. It wasn't his fault.
"So it should be easy, yeah?" Dempsey asked as she nodded carefully. He stepped forward and put his warm hands on her shoulders. "Is this okay?"
She nodded, and looked at his neck, not yet meeting his eyes.
"Or this?" Dempsey slid his hands down her arms and then rested on her hips. Then, keeping his eyes on her, waiting for any sigh of nervousness, he spanned her waist with his hands and drew her closer to him. "Is this okay?" His voice broke a little on the last words and she nodded into his neck, and allowed him to hold her in a hug. Carefully she rested her head in this space, and tired not to think of all those who had done the same with him.
The moment had become so charged that she wasn't sure what to say. He seemed calm about this when he broke the silence. "This is what married couples do isn't it? No problem, angel?"
Harry willed herself to not react to this different version of them. The one that she'd seem a tempting glimpse of before. The one that she'd wished for but knew would never be. Dempsey never committed beyond his next encounter. Yet now, rested here, breathing him in felt domestic. He felt like a husband.
Harry found some words, then she had to ask, to break her own confidence. "I heard on the rumour mill that you think I'm cold. Arctic Fox was the phrase. Someone else said frigid."
Dempsey is quiet for a moment, "That was true once, a long time ago. When we were arguing and I wanted to go back to America, way back then. I couldn't find a way through to you. You didn't like anything about me. I didn't like me much then either, but I never thought you were frigid, never that. We've been fine since then, haven't we?"
Harry nodded. She was expecting a quip or denial.
"It's why this is strange, with me now." His voice rumbles. "You were fine at the prize fights."
She spoke to his chest, "I have a reputation. Plays by the rules, sensible. Woman."
His laugh rumbled in her ears, "You play far less by the rules since you met me. And yeah, you're a woman. I noticed that. The rest is bullshit. Next time you talk to me, yeah?"
Dempsey pulled back then and looked at her face, tipped her face up with his finger. "My reputation is based on unfounded rumours about my sex life and overheard conversations with Spikings. Not trusted with responsibility. More bullshit"
"But that doesn't do you any harm." Harry wondered about the unfounded rumours, "I'm not happy about mine."
"So prove them wrong." He remembered his own assumptions of her, "You constantly prove me wrong, I can't work with anyone else, nobody else can deal with me like you."
Harry smiled and rested her head back on his chest, nestling into this safe space. She liked the idea that it was only her who could handle him and it did feel like a truthful assessment.
XXXXXXX
Dempsey had been beside her all evening at the party. Turned out that there were more guests than they thought. He'd snuggled her into his side on the sofa, his arm around her waist and was more hands on than before, snuffled a kiss into her neck that left her blushing.
She was aware they were of interest and that at least several women had looked at Dempsey as if they wanted him in their bed. He looked typically casual, in jeans and a shirt, but in a way that elevated him above sensible trousers and golf shirts of the other husbands. That, and his accent, she could easily see his easy appeal. He'd been politely cool towards their subtle flirting, keeping her by his side and making it clear that she was the woman for him. It unnerved her how much she hated this women and wanted him, and how that made her feel uncomfortable.
When they found themselves studying a lovely ornament, now adorned with a bug, he turned to her and spoke softly, "Is it me, princess?"
She wondered then if Dempsey might think her nerves were possible flashbacks to her first marriage or other cases. "No, it's not you. I'm trying. I'm sorry."
"We can't do anymore here but you need to loosen up a little for a few minutes. We gotta keep our cover in place. Think of me as your husband. Forget me, the partner." He suggested.
Then it hit her, that this wasn't difficult for him at all. Dempsey was playing a role and he'd drop out of it, the moment they crossed the hall. It wasn't anything life changing that tested how he felt about her. Harry was his partner and firmly, rightly, placed in that box. He could come back in a week and seduce a wife if he wanted to.
It hurt but he's right. Harry swallowed the fear and lifted her chin to him and placed her lips on his. It was just a small kiss, but heightened by the touch of his thumb on her cheek and her fingers in his hair for a short moment. It didn't feel so innocent to her. She caught a playful look on his face and something darker as her hand slipped around to rest below his waist, the other hand tucked into his belt loops on his jeans. She let her mouth drop to his neck and kissed him below his ear, felt his hair on her nose.
"Look at you both, made for each other,"John's wife Carla smiled at them. One of the wives sighed and wandered away.
"That's us, she's my other half." Dempsey's hands left her face as he pulled her to the table, and sat her on his lap. He asked where they bought the coffee they were drinking, as his hand rested on her thigh under the tablecloth, his thumb tracing a pattern. She tried to focus on the shapes he made and the feel of his hair in her fingers.
Dempsey took her hand after they'd said their goodbyes. "Walk with me."
He's focussed on the apartments and any odd activity as they lingered on the stairwell for a moment. Then he took her down to the gardens below to watch the party disperse. As they stood by the porch he was close, Harry heard his heart.
XXXXXXX
"Hey are you two okay? No home to go too?" It's a guy whose name she can't recall.
They are snooping around, of course, so they can't argue about the oddity of being caught out. Dempsey pulled her close and she could see his mind working overtime and they both come to the same conclusion. The failsafe that always worked.
Harry grabbed his shoulders and pulled in close, seeking out his mouth in a stolen kiss but there was something in the moan he made that gave him away. The movement of Dempsey against her and the grip of his hand as he held her wrists above her head, against the wall, the other curled around her hip. For anyone else it was a kiss, for her, it felt like a story she was telling him, of secrets and lies uncovered with no end.
"Oh, sorry!" The voice interrupts them, "We've had a few incidents, had to call the police."
Dempsey cleared his throat and without looking away from her as he checked in with her, "Gotta little carried away with my girl here."
XXXXXXX
Harry welcomed him again. This time his lips moved slowly, softly and pliant in a very unprofessional way. There was the nagging feeling that this was a huge mistake. She could hear Angela telling her so, but she also remembered Dempsey saying about breaking the rules.
He hadn't deepened the kiss, just kept it going and she wondered if he might. His hand traced her jawline, as if he was inthralled by her. They were still kissing even though they had no audience in the shadow of this street light.
She was loathed to part from him. But she had to look at his face to find Dempsey, not the husband he was acting, to reassure herself. His fingers found their way into her hair at the back of her head, and she saw him. His eyes, darker than the green they usually were, told her that he was present.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Harry parted her lips and let him inside. Both of them groaned and she swayed on her feet, pulled him closer to her. This she had to do, almost the last rule she wanted to break. When this is over and she's got him at home, she wants to break the last rule with him.
"Wow" He muttered and she grinned back.
"I knew you could do it, Harry." His breath was against her mouth and for a moment she wondered if this was part of the challenge, that he might tease her about it. Maybe what she felt wasn't reflected in him.
"Was that part of the game, Dempsey?" Harry uses his name just to be clear.
"Not to me, princess. I was hoping it was you and me." His forehead was pressed against hers and his hair tangled with hers when he shook his head. Harry waited for a joke, something to break the tension so they could walk away with no consequences as they usually did. Nothing happened. He kept looking at her instead, his face flushed and his breathing still deep.
"It was me." Harry offered up a nervous smile.
He held her gaze, "I wanna do it again. And again. Don't want to stop."
"Yes." There wasn't anything else she'd rather be doing. Somewhere, in another universe, she should be listening to conversations from the bugs they'd just installed but this job had taken so much from them both over the years, she didn't really care.
He didn't wait for careful permission this time, and fused himself to her and she felt relief. That he had to seek it in the first place was madness but maybe right. She wasn't a quick roll in his bed, he had to earn her trust over the years. She cast those thoughts aside. Her worries about work, what next and where too scattered into the night. He was her partner and they'd work it out somehow.
Dempsey looked goofily at her and she couldn't help but smile back. "We've just made out, Harry. You okay with that?"
Harry nodded happily, "I know, I've been wanting to do that for ages, with you." She emphasises that it's him not one of the many guises they've adopted and hidden behind.
"Me too." Dempsey muses with relief.
"Then why haven't you?" Harry asked, stupidly. She knew, and saw, the answer, a fear of getting it wrong. The same reasons that she had.
"I'm gonna make up for lost time." And she gleefully and willingly agreed.
Harry vaguely felt rain drops as her tongue tangled with his, and a distant rumble of thunder. 'We've brought on the apocalypse too…"
He laughed as he pulled her from the wall and indoors, and spied the lift as she did. She flashed him her best saucy grin as she pushed him towards the wall.
"We need to work… " Harry reminded him as the doors opened and saw disappointment curse through him, "Tomorrow, but I'm not forgetting this in the weeks and months to come."
He leans in and plants a kiss on her lips. "Never."
00000000
No specific time period, after Prizefighter, but before Simone visits as Harry notably doesn't confirm if it's her first visit to Dempsey's bedroom when Simone asks. I've also had a go at past tense after feedback… gosh that wasn't easy but hope it's okay! I may come back and do a second chapter one day.