Chapter 23

Dempsey stuck it out for twenty minutes or so, lying in the dark trying to guess the time, his shoulder aching like a bitch and the sweat gathering on his brow.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, he spent another minute or so carefully extricating himself from Harry, trying hard not to wake her which wasn't easy as their limbs seemed to be all over each other.

He'd finished up on the 'wrong' side of the bed and hadn't been able to see the display on the bedside clock but now, as he loped from the room, he remembered that at one point, when things had got heated, it had been knocked to the floor and never retrieved.

Having taken three or four pills once in the bathroom, he emptied his bladder before going back to the bedroom and tip-toeing around to Harry's side to pick up the digital clock radio.

Six twenty-six. Damn it! Only another four minutes before the alarm. He could use another couple of hours at least. He placed the clock back on the bedside table carefully and padded around to his side. As he lay down and the mattress dipped, Harry rolled over leisurely, drawing a leg up over his and snuggling in.

"Where were you?" she asked sleepily.

"The bathroom. When you gotta go, you gotta go."

She sighed, pushing her cheek against his chest. "Hmm. Thought you'd deserted me again."

That brought a stab of guilt.

That first night they'd spent together, Dempsey had been up at the crack of dawn. The shoulder again. Coffee and pills in the kitchen, waiting for the pain to subside when she'd come looking for him.

He'd regretted that, regretted the fact that he hadn't been there to hold her when she'd woken up next to him for the first time.

He kissed the top of her head tenderly. "I'm here, princess."

She wriggled against him, a small chuckle in her throat. The movement jarred his shoulder but the warmth of her flesh felt good. Her hand had been resting on his belly but now slid lower.

"What time is it?" she asked, sounding considerably more awake now.

"Almost time to get up an' at 'em."

"Almost? Maybe I should give you a helping hand."

A mild stirring was taking place beneath the duvet as her palm softly stimulated him.

No, no, no! It cut him up to even think it but he couldn't deal with this right now. Another twenty minutes down the line and he'd be feeling fine but at this moment in time he wasn't convinced even Harry poppin' his wood was going to move the focus away from his shoulder. And if it rolled over into bumping fuzzies which he was certain it would, he'd be dead in the water.

He swallowed, trying not to grit his teeth.

Harry smiled and kissed his cheek sensuously, mistaking his grimace for ardour.

Shouldn't the alarm have kicked in? Any second now. Any second.

He tried to relax, taking slow, edifying breaths. The pain clashed bizarrely with the pleasure leaving him with a hazy, jumpy sort of feeling.

"I think we might need to take a rain check on this, tiger." He shifted his body a little so that he was on his side. "As great a job as you're doin', we ain't got the time for foolin' around."

Harry shifted with him, not prepared to believe there wasn't a few minutes to spare.

"What time is it?" she asked for the second time, prompting Dempsey to sit up so he could view the clock.

"Great!" he exclaimed. "The alarm didn't go off. Must of got bust when it hit the floor last night."

When Harry relinquished her hold to turn and look, he took the opportunity to slink out of bed and make for the door, grabbing his bathrobe from the back of the door as he went.

"Twenty five to seven!" she said to the back of his head. "We've got an hour and a half yet!"

"I wanna make you breakfast," he called from out in the hallway, "and besides, didn't you say you wanted a head start on me at the factory? Throw 'em off the scent?"

"I suppose," she called after him morosely.

Harry was disappointed and a little bit surprised that Dempsey had chosen breakfast over her. But it wasn't just that was it? There had been a distinct edge to his voice as though he was annoyed about something. It reminded her of last Sunday morning at her place when he'd got up early, leaving her in bed. He'd been snappy with her but that had been down to a hangover and the inconvenience of Jonathan's presence on top of that.

Maybe he just wasn't a morning person. But she'd never got that from him in the past, even when his platonic stopovers had seen her having to shake him awake a few times after he'd overslept on her sofa. She couldn't help but feel rejected now.

Forlornly, she too got out of bed and picking up her shirt from the floor, fastened up a couple of buttons before following him out.

"Alright if I jump in the shower first?" she asked.

She could hear him filling the kettle as she spoke and walking into the kitchen, she found him massaging his shoulder.

His aggravated expression quickly transformed into a fixed smile as his hand fell away.

"Tea, right? You got enough sleep to manage without coffee?"

"Your shoulder's still bothering you a lot, isn't it?" Harry frowned.

He fetched a teapot down from a cupboard and took teabags from a small box of P.G on the side.

"It's fine. Really. Just wish you'd quit mentionin' it all the time."

He was still smiling but his voice wasn't.

"It's hardly all the time! And I'm concerned, that's all. It's obviously still causing you a problem."

"What problem? I don't see no problem apart from you keep tellin' me I got a problem!"

He chuckled to highlight the fact he was speaking in jest but even so, he didn't sound very convincing.

"The one you're not wanting to talk about. If it still hurts, go back to the doctor for heaven's sake!"

The fridge door was slammed shut and Dempsey dumped the milk beside the teapot.

"I'm dealin' with it, okay?"

"Not very well by the looks of it."

Their voices rose and clashed.

He still had his back to her but she could tell from his stance that he was tensed up and possibly about to let loose a couple of rounds.

But he turned around, all smiles. "I'm sorry. Guess I just expected it to be all fixed up by now, ya know. You know patience ain't one o' my virtues."

"When was the last time you saw a doctor?" she asked tentatively.

Dempsey pretended to think. "Five…maybe six years ago. She worked on the cardiology unit at LaGuardia Hospital, Queens. We only dated a couple months…our shift patterns clashed, you know how it goes."

Harry totally ignored the provocative answer and the smug grin.

"You haven't been seen again since you came back to work have you?"

Dempsey turned his back on her again, busying himself with cups.

"No need. I was told from the get-go by a guy much smarter than either you or me that it was gonna be a long process."

Harry picked up her overnight bag which had been stashed beside the breakfast bar.

"Well I think you need to go back or get a second opinion even."

"Maybe I will. We'll see. Now how 'bout this tea."

So that was it. Subject closed.

He held the freshly boiled kettle up and asked, "You want me to make it now? How long's it gonna take you in the bathroom? I know you don't like when it sits too long and gets… what is it you call it?"

"Stewed," Harry supplied.

"Stewed! Right."

She gave him a long look which said, I know you're avoiding the issue but don't think you're going to get away with it forever. Instead she stated evenly, "Won't be long." She knew there was something very much amiss and it grieved her to think Dempsey wasn't being completely honest with her. Had he been in such pain that it had driven him from his bed? From her? And how many of those painkillers was he taking still? She thought back to Sunday morning when virtually the same thing had happened, him getting up so early, only then she had actually caught him taking the pills.

Harry stopped brushing her teeth in mid-stroke and stared at her reflection in the bathroom cabinet mirror, a current of unease passing through her guts. 'Caught' him. That had been exactly how it had felt; like she had caught him out in some clandestine, shameful conduct. The look on his face had read as guilt, hadn't it? She had found him out only at the time, she hadn't even realised it.

She had to have this thing out with him, find out exactly what was going on otherwise what they had was going to fall apart almost before it had begun. But now certainly wasn't the time with only an hour before she had to leave for work.

She stood in the shower, letting the hot water cascade down her back, her body enveloped in the fresh citrus scent of the shower gel Dempsey used.

She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be okay and at the same time, she wanted to thump her fists against his chest and scream in his face. Just when she'd thought all their troubles had been resolved there was something new to blight the relationship.

Why couldn't he just be honest with her?

He set the mug down in front of her, liking the way her hair looked when it was all damp and tousled like that.

He felt on top of things again, back to normal although 'normal' had its own spectrum these days.

"I got jelly or peanut butter," he offered, watching her spread her slice of toast.

"Just butter is fine," she smiled, having already declined the offer of a full English, a variety of egg options, croissants and even pain au chocolat. Since the penny had dropped, her appetite had diminished somewhat.

But there was a discernible change in his demeanour; he was more at ease, buoyant and cheery she noticed. It all seemed so obvious now didn't it; the pills had taken effect and he was out of pain.

Tonight, then, she would have it out with him after work. She would have to be blunt, no equivocation otherwise he would worm his way out of the conversation again. Another realisation came to her – he hadn't had a drink last night except for a couple of sips of wine. He couldn't drink alcohol could he, not on that sort of medication because look what happened when he did! He'd had the hangover from hell on Sunday morning, not from mixing his drinks but rather mixing codeine with alcohol.

He was grinning at her from across the breakfast bar, a silly, loving, lopsided grin and it made her want to cry because now she knew that underneath, he was hiding his secret from her.

Impulsively, she reached out and covered his hand with her own. "I do love you, you know," she told him quietly, needing to convey at that moment words that might give him the strength to purge the Machiavellian effects of the medication.

"Makes me drunk happy hearin' you say that."

He'd stopped eating, a spoonful of muesli paused in mid-air.

Harry looked down as their fingers twined, the irony of his expression bringing a certain amount of despondency. "It's going to be a bit weird though isn't it, whichever way we play it."

"You mean at work or in general?"

"All of it… it's all going to be… I don't know… odd, I suppose."

"Sure it is at the start but we'll get used to us bein' together an' then we can sit back an' watch everybody else freak out," he made google-eyes and laughed, amused by his own words.

Harry rolled her eyes but then asked, "You're still alright with keeping it to ourselves for now though?"

"Makes sense, right? Once we've had some time to get comfortable, that's when we come clean."

"And you're sure we shouldn't tell Spikings right from the start?" Harry felt slightly uncomfortable with leaving their boss in the dark but whilst personal relationships of a sexual nature between co-workers was frowned upon, between partners was without doubt going to be a definite no-no. And with good reason; how was one supposed to remain objective when faced with make or break decisions which concerned one's lover? But Harry had considered this in some detail over the last few weeks and had come to the conclusion that the actual state of being in a relationship was an almost irrelevant concern. It was the emotions which surrounded that relationship that dictated the daily functioning work edict. It wasn't simply about love or the physicality of love, it held true for care; compassion, plain affection and concern too. She had felt these things for Dempsey for what now amounted to years but the point was, she also felt them for her other colleagues at SI-10. In truth, wasn't it essential to feel something for those you worked with? If nobody 'cared' how would they keep each other safe from harm? In this line of work, you developed a bond, a trust that you could put your life in a colleague's hands and know that loyalty, camaraderie and duty would preserve you.

Did the fact that those feelings had spilled over into love actually make either of them any more vulnerable? Harry just hoped that was never put to the test.

"The boss is gonna be pissed whichever way he gets to hear about it so let's grab ourselves a few lungfuls of breathing space, huh?" He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before letting go to concentrate on his cereals. "An' besides, haven't we had some laughs thus far?" He grinned. "Don't know about you, babe but tryin' to keep my tongue rolled up in my head an' my hands in my pockets has been kind of a turn on."

"Well just make sure other parts of your anatomy are hidden from view too," she quipped.

"I'll do my best but…" he leered, "it's real hard."

Harry didn't have time to eat her toast and only managed to glug down half a cup of tepid and yes, stewed tea after a second lightning fast shower.

With her towel dried hair scraped up at the sides with combs and yesterday's suit slung over her arm, Harry hurried to the door of Dempsey's flat, anxiously checking her wristwatch.

"Relax," Dempsey laughed, fresh out of the shower and dressed in only his shorts. "You're only runnin' a couple minutes late. It ain't called a 'quickie' for nothin'."

Would've been even quicker, Dempsey mused, if she hadn't have got stuck in that 'don't you dare make me cum' groove of hers again.

Harry tutted but allowed herself to be dragged into his arms where the passage of time suddenly became not such an issue. The overnight bag thudded to the floor and her trouser suit slid to the ground as she reached up to fasten him to her. "I'm going to arrive looking a dishevelled wreck."

Dempsey's hand caressed the small of her back. "I like when you 'arrive' that way, all sexy an' sweaty."

"Ha ha, very funny. You know what I mean; it's going to look a tad suspicious, don't you think, late and a mess?"

"You ain't a mess," he assured her, "an' we're runnin' ten minutes behind, tops. The idea was you were gonna be in early and I'd follow behind putting me bang on time, remember?"

Harry liked the feel of his near-naked body against her and couldn't resist lightly running her hands down the length of his back. "So now we're both going to be late and that definitely looks suspicious."

She realised Dempsey was showing a pronounced interest and lifted an amused eyebrow.

"What?" he asked with blithe innocence. "Hey, how about we both call in sick? If we're gonna get busted, we should at least do it in style."

For a split second she thought he might be serious, particularly given his current physical state of excitement but his hold on her morphed into a friendly bear-hug.

"Okay, you need to go otherwise things could get tricky again."

"Next time you might try staying in bed," she pouted, "and eliminate that time I wasted having another shower."

She shouldn't be pushing him like this; it was the wrong situation completely but she just couldn't help herself. She needed to get a reaction, some indication that her mental accusations were justified.

He kissed her tenderly. "Definitely gonna bear that in mind, princess but I still wouldn't count on not needing that second shower." He winked, pressed himself against her and them slapped her bottom to indicate that he was letting her go. "Now scoot before I lose this precariously balanced self-control."

He had it bad – like, really bad he decided when he found himself hanging out of his apartment door, watching her walk away along the corridor with a goofy grin that he couldn't supress plastered all over his face. And she must've felt the warmth of his eyes coaxing her back – either that or she heard the splash of drool as it hit the ground…that ass in that business skirt! But whichever, she turned her head as she rounded the corner and gave him one of her angel-eyed smiles before disappearing.

"Down boy!" he said aloud, adjusting himself as he eventually shut the door.

Just a few minutes later, he was dressed and began to clear the table of their breakfast crockery and food which stood largely untouched. Kind of like the Titanic maybe where the ballroom was left deserted but intact by the passengers or a scene out of the movie they'd watched at the cottage in Dirran, The Shining, in the haunted hotel… "Here's Jonnie!" his mind sang out and then he shook his head with vague annoyance. Jonathan Makepeace's name hadn't been mentioned once since they'd left the nursing home last night and that was just fine with him.

He piled the dishes into the sink where they would still be waiting for him after he got home tonight.

So why was he gonna be late into work, he wondered. Flat battery? No, he'd used that once before. Was waiting with his elderly neighbour after he'd called her an ambulance taking it too far? Probably.

The doorbell chimed out and assuming it to be Harry, he instinctively looked about him for whatever it was she might have forgotten to take with her.

"Missin' me already, tiger?" he laughed as he pulled the door open.

Harry wore a face like thunder, her suit still over her arm and still carrying her overnight bag and handbag.

"I need a lift," she snapped. "My bloody car's been twoc'd!"