Hello again. I know it's been a while for this update, but I guess you haven't missed it so far, seeing there are so many terrific writers busy with their stories. Sometimes, it's hard to keep up reading, let alone doing some writing myself! But I'm not complaining! Quite the contrary, I'm very thrilled to read every one of your stories, sometimes until the late hours (or should I say 'the early hours'?).

Just thinking, that maybe I should keep my story on hold for a while, in order to keep up with reading and reviewing...?

Anyway, I've tried hard to make this a pleasant read. I hope you'll enjoy it, and I'm looking forward to reading your reviews again. I can't thank you enough for your kind words! They really give me a boost!

And a special thanks again to NightOwl22, who was so kind to offer me some of her precious time to read and review my scribbles. If only you lived a bit closer, I would have been on your doorstep to help you occasionally. Unfortunately, my broomstick seems to be out of order… ;-)

Chapter 8: No Rose Without A Thorn

The first day and night went by quietly. Dempsey slept a lot, and Harry had no problems looking after him. The next day, however, her concern for him started to grow. The fact that he still refused to eat troubled her most. It could have been her imagination, but she thought he'd already lost quite some weight. And he certainly couldn't regain his strength if he didn't begin to eat something soon.

Doctor Potter, who had come to examine him, told her not to worry. He was convinced that, once the headache and nausea decreased, her partner would eventually start eating again. Yet, Harry wasn't reassured. She was used to seeing Dempsey satisfy his seemingly insatiable appetite more than three times a day, preferably with some greasy junk food. She never thought that she would have to encourage her cocky partner to eat, while it usually was the other way around. He always commented on her eating habits, saying that 'it couldn't be healthy to only eat a tiny bit of rabbit food. Her body also required some meat from time to time, such as a juicy steak or a good burger. After all, the homo sapiens was omnivorous not herbivorous!' Harry had been surprised he even knew the words! She would roll her eyes at him and take another bite of her apple, while looking with disgust at the hot dog he'd be ravishing in front of her.

After the doctor had left, she went to see the cook at Winfield's. Mrs Lipton had already been working on the estate for as long as Harry could remember. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd always been fond of the slightly chubby cook with her friendly brown eyes and her hearty laugh. Young Miss Harriet had learned fast when it was the right time to make her appearance in the kitchen, knowing Mrs. Lipton always had something delicious for her there, preferably some home-baked biscuits or a slice of chocolate cake, still warm from the oven. And the times that she wasn't feeling well, she'd always been able to count on the concerned cook to prepare her a light meal. In fact, Harry could still remember the famous chicken soup that always seemed to work miracles. Even after her mother had died and she couldn't eat anything, Mrs. Lipton had personally ensured that Miss Harriet didn't starve herself to death. Ever since, the old cook had become a dear friend to Harry. And even after all these years, there was great mutual respect between them.

Less than an hour after asking Mrs. Lipton to prepare something for her partner, Harry carefully made her way upstairs to Dempsey's room, carrying a serving tray with a bowl of steaming chicken soup. She persuaded him to drink some of the delicious smelling soup. Even though he didn't eat much, Harry felt relieved that he finally had some food in his stomach. Later that day, she went to his room several times to make sure he ate some more.

The next days, Dempsey started to feel better and needed some fresh air. From then, it took a lot of Harry's time to chase him all over the estate and she sometimes was relieved when he finally slowed down to rest again. The constant chasing turned out to be much worse than babysitting!

He even managed to disappear after going to the kitchen to get some fresh coffee. Since he didn't return to the dining room, Harry had gone to search for him, looking around the entire house for almost an hour. She panicked when she couldn't find him anywhere. She was about to go look for him outside, when suddenly the back door opened and a cheerful Dempsey appeared, humming a song. She stood still and stared at him with wide eyes.

He stopped and appeared to be amused. "What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Harry was anything but amused. "Where have you been?" she asked him angrily, her steel blue eyes staring straight at him. The threatening tone of her voice and the way she stood in the doorway, with her hands on her hips, made it clear to him that he better not argue any further.

"I just went outside. You know, doin' some legwork. It's really nice weather, today," he said innocently.

Harry stood speechless for a moment. Then she took his arm and, without a word, she led him harshly into the deserted dining room where they had more privacy.

Surprised, Dempsey went meekly along with her. Inside the room she let him go and looked at him with eyes that spit fire. He glanced at her, confused, unaware of what he'd done wrong this time. "What?" he shrugged.

"You don't know? You really don't know what you've done wrong?" her voice echoed loudly in the large dining room.

"No,…" he cautiously answered.

"Disappearing just like that, I was worried sick about you!" She pointed her finger at him. "How many times have I told you already to let me know when you're going outside? How am I supposed to protect you, if I don't even know where you are? You know how large this estate is! Damn you, Dempsey!"

He stared at her incredulously and ran a hand through his hair. His mood had changed instantly "Gimme a break, will ya! I'm feeling much better and I'm quite capable of taking care of myself! So this whole 'protection crap' isn't really necessary any more!" he shouted.

Harry looked at him sternly. "As long as Spikings thinks it's necessary, the 'protection crap' stays!" she replied. "And I would really appreciate it if you'd cooperate a little more, instead of giving me such a hard time!"

Dempsey went to the window and stared outside, sulking, his hands deep in his jeans' pockets. Harry took a deep breath and continued with softer voice. "For Christ's sake Dempsey, you're still in danger. Either you cooperate from now on, or I will ask Spikings to take you to an SI10 safe house!" she threatened.

She paused a little, giving him time to let it sink in. "So, what's it going to be?"

He shrugged. "Alright, alright. I'll let you know when I'm goin' outside." Then he turned around to face her and added. "Do I have to tell ya when I'm goin' to the fuckin' toilet as well?"

At that moment, Freddy thought it was time he made his appearance in the room. He had been waiting in the corridor, undecided whether to enter the room or not when hearing their heated discussion. When things finally seemed to have calmed down, he gently knocked on the door and stepped inside, instantly feeling the tension in the large room. To lighten the mood, he invited Dempsey to join him for a drink in the study. The agitated American accepted gratefully. He sure could use a drink, right now.

Harry was about to make an objection, knowing he was still on medication. But she held her tongue when she noticed her partner's warning glance in her direction. Instead, she shook her head and let out a meaningful sigh, thinking he was supposed to be old and wise enough to know what he was doing. And besides, she could do with some peace and quiet too. Working with Dempsey was one thing, but protecting him and trying to keep him out of trouble was – as she had anticipated - even harder. He always wanted to do things his own way, and he could be so impulsive and irresponsible sometimes, it made her blood boil!

The two men retreated to the study, where Freddy poured out a generous amount of scotch in two glasses, and handed one over to Dempsey. They took a seat in the comfortable armchairs, placed side by side. The American took a big gulp and closed his eyes to fully enjoy the strong liquid flowing down his throat, while he slowly let his frustration subside.

"Thanks Freddy, this is just what I needed." Dempsey lifted his glass to the older man.

Freddy smiled "Yes, the best medicine there is." He offered him a cigar as well. All tension disappeared at that moment, and both men enjoyed their drinks and cigars.

"It's certainly good to see you're feeling better, James." Lord Winfield studied him for a moment. "I only hope my daughter isn't giving you a very hard time."

Dempsey chuckled and blew some smoke. "Well, let's just say that she's a real tough one, that daughter o' yours. But I guess you're aware of that. You've raised her, anyway."

"I'd say it has more to do with her character than her upbringing really. Even as a little girl she knew exactly what she wanted and she could be very determined. I think she has inherited it from her mother. In fact, I'm amazed how much she looks like her mother. And I'm not just referring to her appearance…" Freddy smiled at the thought.

"Jeez, I wonder how you survived with two such women in the house!" Dempsey looked at him in awe.

Freddy laughed. "I must admit that it wasn't always easy." Then he became serious again. "But, you know, I would give all my possessions to have them both back with me…" he added sadly.

"Oh Freddy, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. Me and my big mouth!" Dempsey cursed himself. Sometimes he had to agree with Harry 'you never think before you act!'

"It's alright, young man. It's been more than twenty years now, but still not a day goes by that I don't miss my late wife. Harriet was only ten when she lost her mother. She was devastated. She never really talks about it, but I think she still misses her a lot, just like I do."

They were silent for a while, both deep in thought. Finally Freddy spoke again. "You haven't seen your family for a long time, have you?"

Dempsey nodded as he took another sip.

"You must miss them a lot?"

"Yeah, sometimes..." Dempsey sighed, as his mind drifted away to New York, to his family.

As long as he was busy with his work, he wasn't feeling homesick. But now, he had too much time to think. He'd become increasingly restless, and he often found the need to go outside to be alone. The last thing he needed was other people to see his distress.

Freddy noticed his reluctance and continued. "Did you let them know you were injured?"

Dempsey shook his head. "Nah, no point in worrying them. They can't do nothin' about it, anyway." He walked to the window and stared outside. "It's so beautiful here this time of the year. And very peaceful."

"Yes, indeed it is." Freddy took the hint and didn't push the American to talk about his family. "But every season has its charms, you know. I'm very lucky to have the opportunity to enjoy nature's beauty from up close."

Both men looked up when someone knocked on the door. Abbott, according to Lord Winfield the most loyal butler he could wish for, appeared in the doorway to announce that the doctor was there to check up on Mister Dempsey. Freddy and Dempsey quickly hid their glasses, knowing that the doctor wouldn't approve of their rather large glass of scotch. Just moments later, Doctor Potter came in, closely followed by Harry. Freddy greeted the doctor, and winked at his daughter when he left the room.

"You don't mind if I stay, do you?" Harry asked Dempsey innocently.

He hesitated and asked, grinning, "Why, d'you think the doctor is gonna attack me or somethin'?"

"No, it's not the doctor I'm concerned about." she replied, looking him straight in the eye. She continued cynically. "Anyway, as your personal 'wet nurse', I need to know exactly how your recovery is going. Don't I, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah, sure,…whatever…" he shrugged.

The doctor examined him thoroughly, while Harry followed the whole medical check up with great scrutiny to ensure that her partner told the truth to the doctor. As she had expected, Dempsey clearly overestimated his condition. According to him, he was completely healed again. While, in fact, Harry had noticed earlier that morning that his shoulder still ached terribly. He couldn't even get dressed without wincing in pain. Fortunately, Dr. Potter had also noticed it when he asked Dempsey to take off his shirt. He reprimanded his patient that 'he clearly hadn't taken enough rest and that he was supposed to wear the sling every time he walked around!' Dempsey had indeed not worn the damn thing for quite some time. Harry doubted he even knew where it was!

Regarding his concussion and the injury on his right forearm, the doctor was more satisfied. But when he opened the box with painkillers to find it almost empty, Dr. Potter - who Harry always knew as a very patient and friendly doctor - now gave Dempsey a scolding. 'The stubborn American was the most terrible patient he had ever met!'

Normally Dempsey hated taking pills, but these last days he wouldn't have been able to get out of his bed without them. The choice between staying in bed, or take a few painkillers so he could walk around, was easily made. Only, the doctor clearly had another opinion. At first, Dr. Potter refused to give him any more pain medication, saying 'If he wanted to continue doing things his own way, he had to be prepared to take the consequences!' Only after Harry's plea, had the doctor reluctantly agreed to provide him with another smaller box of painkillers. But he handed it to Harry this time, so she could ensure that her partner had more rest instead of taking pills.

Shocked, Dempsey had looked at his partner. Her self-satisfied smile made him realise it was pointless to argue about it, knowing she wouldn't support him if he were to object. When the doctor left, Harry couldn't resist the temptation to tease him. "Well, now you've heard it from the doctor himself. Would you like to rest first, or shall we put on your sling?" she asked with a sweet smile.

He growled something she couldn't understand, then took his glass of scotch and drank it down in one gulp.

After the doctor's visit he became very edgy. He knew Harry would give him a hard time. "It's for your own good", she said, each time she sent him to bed or forced him to wear the sling, as a condition for getting another painkiller. He absolutely hated it that she had control over him. And it frustrated him even more that she seemed to enjoy it.

He also had to inform her when he went outside for a walk. It annoyed him immensely that she went with him every single time. But she left him no choice: either he stayed at Winfield Hall on her terms, or she'd ask Spikings to confine him to a safe house. She could be so damn stubborn! He reluctantly agreed even though he didn't like the conditions, but the alternative seemed even less appealing.

From then, he allowed her to walk beside him. He was a bit grumpy at first, but he soon seemed to enjoy their promenades, especially when she led him around the estate and showed him many of her favourite spots. What had started as an act of support, walking closely together with his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist, soon became a habit. After a while, she started to suspect he already felt much better, but that he feigned dizziness in order to continue walking arm in arm. There was a time, she would have reacted fiercely about it, but now she kept quiet, enjoying his warm closeness.

One morning, after a brisk walk on the small winding path in the woods, they decided to rest on a bench for a while. They were listening in silence to the cheerful twittering of birds high in the trees. A couple of squirrels cautiously approached them, searching for some food. But noticing the slightest movement, they took off, their little bodies swiftly and gracefully moving in the bushes, or running up a tree until they were out of sight. Dempsey and Harry both enjoyed being part of nature, momentarily forgetting all about the evil outside world. As his neck hurt, Dempsey had removed the sling and supported his left arm with his other hand.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, concerned.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sure. This place is awesome, Harry. I didn't think I'd ever be able to enjoy such peace and quiet."

She smiled. Quite frankly, it had surprised her too. She'd never actually seen him so relaxed before.

After a while, as they were about to continue their walk and head back to the house, Harry saw Dempsey struggle with the sling, and offered to help him. She stood face to face with him when she carefully put the sling on its place again, her arms around his neck as in an embrace. She hadn't noticed how close they were standing to each other, until she felt his warm breath on her face. The scent of his after shave drifted into her nose, making her head spin slightly. His lips were only a couple of inches away from hers. She felt drawn to him like iron to a magnet and before she even realized what she was doing, she planted a gentle kiss on his lips.

It took only a few seconds, until she awoke from the spell. Shocked, she quickly took a few steps backward.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she stammered.

Ashamed, she lowered her head to avoid his gaze. After a few minutes, when she couldn't bear the awkward silence any longer, she found the courage to face him again. She had expected to see a smug grin on his face, a sign of victory for finally achieving his goal after two years of flirtations. To her surprise, however, she couldn't detect a grin, not even a faint smile. Instead, he seemed just as startled and confused as she was!

Before they had the chance to say anything, they heard someone calling Harry's name. The male voice came from the direction of the castle. She hesitated to answer the call immediately, thinking she'd better first give Dempsey an explanation about her behaviour.

But what could she say to him? She didn't even know what to think of it herself! Why on earth did she lose control every time she was alone with him? First in hospital, and now here. At least in hospital he didn't know about it, while now… She cursed herself! She had just kissed her partner, for God's sake! And that while she was on duty! She had always respected and followed SI10 rules very strictly. At least, until the day Lieutenant James Dempsey appeared, and turned her whole world upside down! This brash and reckless man with his 'je m'en fous'-attitude, that she so resented and admired at the same time. She'd always been able to work professionally with all of her colleagues, until now! Why did her feelings and emotions seem to get the upper hand when it concerned him? Did he have some sort of spell over her?

She awoke from her musings when she heard the voice calling her again, closer this time, and she heard quick footsteps approach them. Harry took a few hesitant steps toward the house, this time answering the call. She almost bumped into Abbott, who hastily appeared from behind the trees. The poor man was short of breath. Apparently, he had been searching them all over the large estate.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, My Lady. But Chief Superintendent Spikings is on the telephone for you and it seems rather urgent." he announced, panting heavily.

She offered the butler an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Abbott," before she hurried to the house, closely followed by Dempsey. Abbott waited a moment to catch his breath, before he also made his way back to the house.

As soon as she was in the house, Harry picked up the phone in the big hallway. Dempsey stood beside her, trying to catch part of the conversation. It was a very short call. Spikings only wanted to check if everything was alright, and announced he would come over that afternoon. He refused to give any further explanation over the phone. He'd rather talked to them in person at the estate.

Would that indicate good news or bad?

After she'd hung up the phone, Harry looked at Dempsey. He stared silently out of the window, his free hand in his jeans pocket. He was clearly worried about something. What was on his mind? Was it the boss's phone call, or their close 'encounter' from a bit earlier? Or maybe even both? Or was he exhausted after their long walk?

Harry tried to persuade him to go upstairs and get some rest, but he stubbornly refused, stating he was feeling alright and was fed up with lying in bed all day. She understood it was useless to insist and, instead, she took him to her most favourite place on the estate: the rose garden at the back of the house. The garden was looking beautiful, displaying a variety of roses with a whole spectrum of different colours.

At the entrance of the garden, there was a pergola, where beautiful roses gracefully swung their way through the wooden frame of the decorative arch. Dempsey never thought there was such a variety of roses - a rose was a rose anyway, you could only chose its colour - until Harry proudly gave him an extensive tour of the garden. To his surprise, every type of rose had a different name and his partner knew all the flowers by its name. Where on earth did she have this knowledge from? Was this something typically aristocratic again? Impressed, he followed her as she led him to a bench that was located a little higher, offering them a great view over the entire colourful garden.

A long time ago, her mother had personally created this garden, planting one variety at a time. Margaret had always been very proud of her roses, and had treated them with great care. It had taken her many years to finally achieve the result she wished for. Unfortunately, she never even had the chance to admire the garden in its full glory, as she died in a dreadful car accident. Such a beautiful young woman in the prime of her life, and with so many plans for her and her family, from one day to another brutally snatched from this world. The drunken driver, on the other hand, hardly had a scratch himself. Life was so bloody unfair! Harry and her father hadn't only lost their loved one, but they didn't even have the chance to say goodbye to her. Only her flowers lived on, and with them the memories of a caring and loving wife and mother. Harry couldn't tell how relieved she was to see that the garden was very well maintained over the years. She never even had to ask, she instinctively knew her father would treasure this place forever, and so would she.

Sitting on the bench, Harry recalled the time she had tried to pick some roses for her mother's birthday. She was only about six or seven at the time, and didn't know how painful roses could be, until she felt their sharp thorns. Instead of surprising her mum with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, she'd surprised her with a bleeding little hand and heartbreaking sobs. Her mother hadn't reprimanded her for picking the roses, but had comforted her and had lovingly nursed her tiny hand. The words her mother had spoken then, still echoed in her head as if it were only yesterday. 'Roses are the most beautiful flowers, my darling, but there is no rose without a thorn.' It turned out to be a lesson she would remember for the rest of her life. And when she got older, she realised her mother wasn't only referring to the literal meaning of the words. Harry certainly had experienced some nasty thorns in her life, her failed marriage only one example. Unfortunately, there had been no one to nurse her bleeding heart…

Harry often sat on that bench after her mother died, especially when she felt sad or alone, or whenever she had to make an important decision in her life. It always felt as if she could feel her mother's presence there. If those roses could talk, they would be able to tell more about her thoughts and feelings than any person could, including her father.

Now, for some reason, she felt the urge to take Dempsey to this place. She realized she needed to clarify her behaviour, fearing that it would jeopardize their future cooperation if she didn't work things out with him. And they certainly couldn't afford any feelings of malaise or confusion between them, with the boss coming to see them that afternoon. She thought it would be easier to talk to her partner at the place where she felt most comfortable and supported.

She took a deep breath and stared at the roses in front of her as she started talking cautiously. "Dempsey, about what happened earlier this morning…, I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what came over me. I just don't want you to come to the wrong conclusions." She turned her head to face him, her hand playing with some rose petals that were lying on the bench. "You see, I care about you very much. And I hate to see you get hurt. As for this morning, I noticed you were in pain and I felt sorry for you. I wanted to help you feel better, but I'm afraid I've handled it the wrong way…"

Up to that moment, Dempsey sat at the bench beside her, staring straight ahead. He had removed the sling and rested his left arm on his thigh, while he was massaging his neck with his other hand. She noticed how tired he looked, but figured that now wasn't the right time to ask him about it.

"That's an understatement!" he chuckled when hearing her words, to become very serious again the next moment. "Look Harry, I care 'bout you a lot too. And I appreciate your concern, but I really don't need your sympathy, alright! The last thing I want is for people to feel sorry for me!" he said, slightly agitated. "I'm fine!"

"I understand. And I'm sorry if I've caused any confusion. I really don't want to lose you as partner, Dempsey, nor as a friend. That's why we have to keep our relationship strictly professional. Spikings would never allow us to continue working together, if he even suspected there was something personal going on between us.

He offered her a smile. "I guess you're right. The same goes for me, ya know. You're a fantastic partner, Harry, and a great companion. I don't wanna risk losin' that."

She returned the smile, relieved by his answer. Suddenly, she felt more confident again. "Besides, can you imagine you and me, having a relationship?" She started laughing, and shook her head. "We would be annoying each other and arguing from sunrise to sunset! It would never work between us, would it? We have nothing in common besides work, and we both come from a totally different background…"

"Hey sweetheart, you don't have to convince me. After all, you kissed me, remember?" he countered. "I'd never expected that from you. But there's one thing I have to tell ya, though…" He paused briefly, a mischievous grin appeared on his face. "That was a lousy kiss, Harry. You barely touched my lips! You really could use some practice, ya know. In fact, we could have some practice right here and now, no strings attached…" he winked at her.

"Oh, for God's sake, Dempsey! I would never practice kissing with you! Not even if you were the last man on earth!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"Too bad, sweetheart. You don't know what you're missing," he grinned.

"Oh, I can imagine perfectly. Anyway, you've had your chance, Lieutenant. But you weren't fast enough," she replied with a smug smile.

"That's true." He confessed sadly. "Just remember, next time I'll be prepared. You won't be so lucky then, baby!" he paused for a while. "Or should I say that you'll have all the luck of the world, then?"

He started laughing heartily when she rolled her eyes. The more she tried to look indignantly at him, the less she succeeded. Eventually, she capitulated when she saw his cheerful eyes and heard his infectious laughter.

At that moment, Lord Winfield came from behind them, to invite them to the table for lunch. He stared at them in disbelief when he saw Harry sitting at the small bench, with James beside her, both chatting and laughing. As far as he knew, it was the first time ever that his daughter had allowed anyone in the rose garden, let alone on her favourite bench! Her mother's bench.

Since neither of them had noticed him, the older man took the opportunity to watch them for a while. A broad smile appeared on his wrinkled face to see that his daughter obviously felt very comfortable with her American partner. But at the same time his eyes filled with tears, as the sight of the two seemingly happy people on that bench brought back some wonderful memories of his own past…

(TBC)