Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground.
Beta assistance from Whimsyfox enables (most of) my grammar to pass muster for Hal.

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"Christ," Hal cursed. "I need to bathe."

"Yeah you do," Tom teased, smiling heartily.

Hal shot him a pessimistic scowl before removing his sodden jacket and unlacing muddy boots. "You owe me," he said with mock-irritation. There was warmth in his tone despite the disheveled state of them all. Stiffly, he retreated to the stairway, intent on following through with his declaration of claiming the bath.

Tom just grinned, still high on how well it all had gone. Hal had been fantastic, just as Tom had known he would be. They had finished up, said their farewells, and all come home together. Hal had extended an invitation for Christa to stay with them, but she'd declined with a glance towards Irving. They were going out for a meal after, and she assured that she already had plans to stay with a cousin in Cardiff.

"Why do you two do that all the time? I think you both smell fine," Alex muttered, closing the entry door before following Tom and Allison to the kitchen.

"Eh, mortal enemies and all that. We smell different to each other than to normal folk is all," Tom shrugged. He pulled the milk carton out of the fridge and took a big swig.

Allison thwapped him on the arm as she passed to put the kettle on. "It is biological," she declared, matter-of-factly. "It is perfectly logical that we'd be able to sense each other."

"Does he smell off to you?" Alex asked her, curious.

"Not exactly. I haven't known many vampires, so to me he just smells like Hal. He does smell different from other people however."

"Huh," Alex hitched herself onto the counter.

"He's Hal, but he still smells like a vampire. It's just like our blood," Tom shook his head as he put the milk away. "Our curses don't mix."

"But you're still friends," Alex stated.

"Yeah, so?" Tom noted the seriousness of Alex's expression and shrugged. "No, it ain't natural. Werewolves usually avoid vampires until the moon turns us." Tom's expression became thoughtful. "When we used to hunt them, I'd carry this anger. One whiff of a vampire and I'd be ready. My Dad trained me that way I s'pose. But Hal's not your usual vampire. He's been off the blood long 'nuff it's changed him." Tom leaned against the counter and peered down at his shoes. "Or maybe it's from when I was forced to get to know him and all… Maybe I'm just used to him. He's not so bad now."

"So, it doesn't bother you?" Alex pressed. "Knowing the things he's done?"

Tom's brow furrowed, but he shook his head. "I didn't always see it as that," Tom started, then glanced to Allison. She came to lean next to him, encouraging with a tilt of her head. He continued reluctantly, "I've done some pretty bad stuff myself. At the time, it always seemed in the right, like. There wasn't another choice for me really. Not only has Hal lived longer, but he's had his perspective and choices change a few times over. I s'pose it don't excuse it none, but I guess… I can understand. He really does try."

"Life was drastically different through the centuries too - supernatural or otherwise," Allison added. "Hal has lived through some of the more violent eras of our cultural history. Both World Wars, the Napoleonic Wars, the Civil War, plagues... the Tudors for goodness' sake!" Allison laughed and Alex smiled. "Honestly I wonder sometimes how he can be as functional as he is. You'd think he'd be hidden away somewhere, all secretive and weird."

Alex smirked at that, "He is all secretive and weird."

Tom cocked his head. "Egh, I don't know. I think he's pretty straightforward, don't you?" he asked in a pondering tone. "Yeah, he's been through more than I can wrap my head around. And there's parts of his past I'm sure he'd rather not talk about. But he ain't ever said he's someone he's not. Hal's really been pretty honest 'bout things, all considered."

It seemed Tom was coming to the conclusion as he spoke. Alex realised he had been pondering many of the same things she had, ever since he found out his friend's history with dog fights. It seemed he had been able to come to terms with it. Alex wasn't sure if she had reached that point as well, but she was trying.

"Yea, I guess you're right," she finally said and dropped from her perch on the countertop. Changing the subject, Alex crossed her arms and gave the pair of them a steely eye. Allison still had a smidge of lichen in her air. "You were off snoggin' in the woods, weren't ye?"

Allison and Tom exchanged a quick flash of a guilty look, then Allison laughed. "Only briefly!"

"Hal was looking out for 'em all, so I thought I'd check on Allison…" Tom added sheepishly.

Alex gave a dramatic sigh with a smile. "Aye, young love," she teased wistfully, then glanced to the clock. "Anyone want to watch Top Gear?"

After supernatural training with an entire werewolf army, she was wanting for a spot of normal. Tom's smile returned. Apparently he was too.

They all cosied up on the sofa together - Allison nestled under Tom's arm and Alex sprawled at the opposite end. The ease with which her housemates were with each other - their unconcealed care and affection, made her ache. She was envious. Even if they somehow managed to sort things out between them, Hal would never be so casual.

Far too quickly, the hour was past. Tom had to be up early for work, so they bid her a fond good night and went upstairs together. Alex switched off the tele and stared at her silhouette reflected in the darkened screen. There was no use pretending she wanted to be anywhere else. She stood, and disappeared.

She found Hal ready for bed, wearing only his pants and facing the bookshelf as he stretched. He glanced up at her sudden presence, then switched arms, pulling across his chest.

"Could you send Rook a message?" he asked without any preamble. He had obviously been waiting for her.

"What do you mean?"

"On your mobile. He sent an email yesterday that appeared on the screen."

"Text, Hal. He sent a text," she smirked.

"In an case," Hal continued, "Please tell him that we would like to request a briefing."

Alex picked up the mobile from where it still sat on the mantle and entered the code. The screen came to life. "Eh," she quickly clicked through the multiple messages that were already there. "Guess we neglected to check this… How does 'sixteen hundred' sound? That's four o'clock, right?"

"Good. Tom can join us," he nodded agreeably. She quickly typed a response to Rook, confirming what he had already proposed. Hal stopped stretching, and with a pained sigh, he sank onto the edge of the bed.

With the exception of when he was shot by Nave, Alex had never seen a bruise on Hal's body. The burn on his thigh from Tom's blood had been fading slowly, but the fresh, dark bloom radiating out from where Milo had kneed him was unmistakable.

"You're not healing?" She asked, setting the mobile back down on the mantle.

Hal glanced down, then looked away. "I don't drink blood Alex. It changes things."

"You think that's it?" She recalled Maggie's odd words when they had first met at the hospital. Who you feeding off of girlie?

"I've never gone this long before. It was such a small amount... with Cutler," Hal shook his head. "Then London. It makes sense that I'd be at a certain... disadvantage." He stretched his neck and rotated his shoulders again and Alex wondered if he was right. Maybe it had nothing to do with her. "And I may be feeling my age a bit," he added gruffly.

Alex kicked off her boots and padded over to the bed. As she approached, she shrugged out of her jacket and set it aside. Climbing onto the mattress behind him and scooting in cross-legged, she began massaging his shoulders.

Hal immediately tensed. "What are you doing?"

"Relax," she pulled, forcing him to lean back. "Sorry I hit you so hard."

"You were supposed to," he murmured, still fighting her touch.

Alex kneaded a little deeper, working against the tension in his neck and shoulders. "You really don't feel your age you know."

Hal just sighed but she felt him relax slightly into her ministrations. He could command an army, expertly cow an opponent, and take a ghostly beating, but couldn't take a kindness. She rolled her eyes behind his head and dug deeper, feeling him slacken a little more.

As she attempted to soothe and erase the aches she had given, Alex lost herself briefly in feeling their connection. They hadn't touched enough to spark that connection since Thursday morning. Not since he found out about her nightmares. Not since she had searched through his files at the archive. Not since Maggie had placed the block between them. And not since she had broken through it to see if he was alright after Hetty. Alex enjoyed the feel of his skin beneath her hands, the fresh, damp scent of his hair and that sultry smell that was all his own.

Akin to when they were very first sleeping together, she felt as if she was testing the limits of touch. But now, as he begrudgingly allowed her ministrations, she was reminded of all he had said today. He had made it seem such a simple thing to kill a vampire. Even with all of his age and experience, he could be ended in an instant. Alex had a feeling he wouldn't make it simple for anyone who dared to try, but still, the possibility bothered her.

Just when she thought he was softening into her, that she was actually able to calm him, he pulled away. Hal stood, facing the bookshelf, his fingers tapping in quick succession. She dropped her hands into her lap numbly.

After a steadying breath, he turned to tug down the blankets. "I have to go bed Alex."

"So, go to bed," she answered, suddenly feeling the chasm drop between them again.

He glanced at her, swallowed, then looked away. She had made him nervous. Confident and secure when facing a group, but riddled with self-doubt when facing her. She supposed things were still complicated between them. She had asked for time, and here she was blatantly inciting contact between them.

She unfurled her legs and dropped her feet to the floor to stand, about to go, when he reached out to brush her arm. She paused and their eyes met. It all was there, in his softened stare - openness, understanding if she chose to go... and hope that she would stay. Alex sighed a shaky breath, then sat back down. Hal didn't have self-doubt, he was just trying to follow her lead. To give her the space she had asked for, even though she had undoubtedly incited his desire. Gawds, she was an arse.

Blankets neatly folded down, he gingerly sat next to her. Close, but not quite touching. She turned towards him, an apology on her tongue, but caught the small surprise of his face. Surprise that she wasn't leaving. It made something expand in the apex of her stomach. That center core part of her, just under the ribcage where she felt him and their bond, knotted.

She bit her lip, hesitating briefly, but then put her arm over his shoulder. He didn't yield at first and she thought he would pull away again. But then he steadied his breath, and returned the gesture, bridging the gap and pulling her close. She wasn't comforted however. Love and hate and fear and confusion all took over, simultaneously. She clenched and fought against it, but there was no use. The weight of his arm dissolved the chasm between them and her chest hitched. He held her ever so slightly tighter, and it all broke free. She pressed her face into his chest; this barrier of flesh between them hiding some missing part of herself. She wanted to draw him close and push him away with equal measure. She wanted him. She didn't want to want him.

Alex pulled back to see his face, and he stared back at her, his beautiful eyes still holding the same expression as before, despite her tears. She swallowed, pulling it together in front of his unwavering gaze, the tide of it all ebbing.

Slowly, Hal kissed her cheek, his lips pressed over her tears. Understanding. He knew, somehow the breadth of her emotions, and knew precisely how to tip the scales between them. He pulled back to look at her and delicately licked his lips, tasting her tears. Taking her tears, and Alex toppled. She couldn't help it.

She couldn't stop it.

She was in love with him.

She had never stopped being in love with him.

She tentatively placed her hand over his heart and held it there, protectively. He met her eyes, acknowledging her silent question but not answering. She pressed her palm flat, feeling that hook of their connection through his skin - her anchor in him. Spreading her fingers wide, palm pressed over his silent and vulnerable heart, she met his eyes and asked, "Can you feel it? The piece of me?"

"I can feel you," he whispered. "Only you."

She dropped her head to his shoulder, face turned towards the crook his neck and remained there a moment. He breathed into her hair, his breath slowing. Everything she had suppressed and fought against was coming to the surface. She had meant what she said about needing time. But judging by the surge of emotion she felt, maybe it had already been enough. She had to be sure, though. For if they were to continue this, they could both be in danger. She kissed the side of his throat and Hal's breath caught ever so slightly, his fingers light on her arm.

"Alex," he started, a protest forming even though his hand had dropped to her waist.

"I still want you," she shuddered the admission and looked up. His eyes met hers but he didn't say anything. She cupped his cheek, feeling the start of stubble. He only shaved in the mornings; a ritual he had steadfastly not allowed her to be privy to. His eyes were holding hers, searching without speaking. "You love me?" she finally braved, confronting him on the one thing she couldn't bring herself to earlier.

His lips parted, then he closed his eyes. His whisper was hushed, like a guilty confession. "Yes."

"Show me," she whispered back.

He paused, poised as if he almost didn't believe what she had said. His fingertips delicately brushed the side of her face and then, holding her gaze, he leaned in to kiss her. He kissed her, and the floodgates opened. All that feeling, all that struggle and confusion from the past few days eroded away.

He moved his lips to her jaw while his hand caressed the silk along her side. He kissed her neck, lingering before moving on to her shoulder. The material of her dress was brushed aside, off her shoulder and he kissed her there. His kisses moved down, lifting her arm to his lips with a shivery dalliance.

Fingers wove to interlock with hers briefly. Then he touched the ring on her forefinger. She watched, fascinated, as he removed it with a gentle pull, then the next. He set them on the bedside table, next to his watch, and they made a soft metallic clink before they disappeared. Then, one by one, Hal kissed her bare fingers.

She was unable to restrain from grazing the sculpted muscles of his shoulder as he trailed slowly, lightly back up her arm. When he met the soft skin at the inside of her elbow, she shuddered with the simple pleasure of it. Hal was painting her skin with electric sparks.

He returned to her throat, languishing before he resumed his trail to her other shoulder.

Only after her fingers were all bare, did he return to kiss her lips. Spinning and deep, with an undeniable rush, she she could taste his desire. Her hands edged over his skin, thrilled at the deeper connection of touch. His careful and paced breath caught and she knew he felt the same magnetic pull as she.

Hal pushed up her dress, hands underneath to caress the bare skin of her stomach and she moaned. She eased the path for him to lift her dress up and off.

Piece by piece, he removed Alex's layers, revealing every expanse of creamy white skin that he tasted with kisses along the way. Her physicality when they touched still astounded him - her warmth, her rich scent, the steadiness of her pulse. So much of the vampiric curse was possession. An undying urge to take and keep another's life force, body and blood. To lay the ultimate claim. But with Alex, he had her already. She challenged him, and he needed that, but what he felt went deeper. Her every gesture and taunt was so full of fiery vivaciousness that it made her all the more beautiful. He yearned to feel in her the very thing she no longer actually possessed.

The pull between them was irresistible. Their attraction was as elemental as the dawn, as tides, as life. And it wasn't merely the anchor he was powerless against. He craved that spark, to feel her, more than he wanted to consume her. Her brawn only enhanced her beauty, her recalcitrance kept him enthralled. To witness her pleasure was his pleasure. Her happiness made his seem possible. She had given him hope, and then sustained it. And today, she had quelled his fears. She was stronger than him. She could, and would stop him if necessary. Together, he was safe. The revelation flooded his senses.

"I love your abandon," he whispered, then kissed her again. "I love your fearlessness," he uttered as he trailed delicious kisses down her exquisite throat. Alex's breath fluttered and she swallowed, accentuating the muscles of her neck. "I love your strength," he kissed the swell of her left breast, over her heart with lips full and soft. His kisses trailed down until her nipple was in his mouth, sending crashing want through them both. She pushed at the hem of his pants and he obliged. When he returned, she embraced him heartily, running her hands down to the small of his back. As soon as she urged, he was right where she wanted. "I'm in love you," he shuddered.

He made love to her. Without doubt, without question.

When she had recounted the dreams, she remembered how he had wept silently into her hair in true remorse. What he felt - how he felt - was genuine. He may have been a monster once, but he was genuinely trying not to be now. The darkness in him was very real, and very powerful. But on some level, she had to admit she found it alluring. Because… she was attracted to that part of him too. The person he was now was held in balance against his past. How else could she explain how she still felt, even knowing all the unforgivable things that she did? As long as it remained the past, she could understand who he was now.

In the present, he made love. In the present, he whispered in her ear between heartfelt kisses and shudders and waves of ecstasy. In the present, he was hers. Wave upon wave of pleasure crashed over her with each stroke of him. Their connection was amplifying her senses, and the emotion sparked between them was amplifying that connection. He held her with reverence. Admiration. Amazement. Still slightly disbelieving in her.

She was losing herself to this as he was losing himself in her. She wanted to kiss him everywhere. She wanted to feel him all the way through with skin meeting skin, joined. She wanted to love him, just like this, always.

She kissed his shoulder and tightened her press against the strong rise of muscle at the base of his spine. He nearly collapsed into her but held their momentum. She turned her head, exposing the side of her throat, she knew, but the risk was worthwhile as she kissed his forearm. Hal trembled and sank into her with a moan. A tingling crest of pleasure was mounting. Alex kissed his forearm again, nipping at his skin with her teeth.

Their release was culmination of all that feeling, all that ache. Palpable, lucid and with such absolution it brought tears to her eyes. There was no remaining doubt that he loved her, that he was capable. And that she was capable of loving him.

She held him close as they came down, her face against his shoulder. He brushed his fingertips along her side, keeping shivers of pleasure radiating through, even though she could feel that he was fading fast. His fatigue from his body's attempt to heal was evident and it was winning him over. Eventually he gave in, settling against her with a sleepy sigh.

You're already stronger than you realise, he had told her. She wanted to use every ounce of that strength to fight for this. Them.

As Hal sank into sleep, Alex knew what she had to do.