Just wanted to thank everyone for reading/favoriting/commenting on this story! As much as I adore writing these two adorable and awkward idiots I am always afraid I am boring you guys to tears! ^^; I'm so glad you like it so far! Thanks for all your support, it really does mean the world to me! Happy reading!

This is probably a mistake, Alec thought grimly as he adjusted his tie for what was probably the fifth time since he had arrived at The Old Curiosity Shop. He was a few minutes early, and Rebecca was finishing up with her last customer so he decided to browse the store, not having had the chance to do so the last time. And whose fault was that, you great bloody prat? he asked himself humorlessly as he paced the aisles. You didn't get a chance to look around because you ran out of here last week like your arse was on fire. You got scared and turned tail and ran like a child. But somehow, miraculously, she agreed to having dinner with him tonight, so maybe he had managed to not muck it up as badly as he had originally thought. Her face had lit up in a huge smile when she saw him walk through the door, her eyes as bright as stars. That she would have such a heart-stoppingly beautiful reaction just from seeing him made him feel...well, he wasn't sure how it made him feel. Warm and confused and elated and terrified all at the same time. He still could barely believe that she had said yes. Must be daft, he thought with a snort, perusing the shelves. Not only were the books all in alphabetical order, but they were categorized by genre as well. She had little laminated hand-written cards on every other shelf, pointing out recommendations of various titles, each one decorated with smiley faces and swirly curlie cues. It was very her.

He smiled.

"Are you ready to go?" Rebecca asked cheerily as she came up behind him.

He hadn't even heard her approach, so absorbed as he was with his thoughts. The last customer she had been waiting on had finally left, and they were alone in the store. She was wearing a pale yellow sundress, with little while flowers patterned across it. It looked deliciously soft against her pale skin. He wondered what the material would feel like in his hands. He wondered how the dress would look on the floor of his bedroom.

Sodding Christ, he thought. "I'm ready" he said, hoping she wouldn't notice the catch in his voice and breath. "So where are we going?" he asked.

"Chippie Palace," she said. "They have the absolute best fried fish on this part of the coast."

The smile froze on his face.

She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding," she said. "I'm just kidding, I promise. Do you like Italian food?"

He relaxed. "Yes, very much so."

"Great," she responded, laying her hand on his arm. "I think I've picked the perfect place."

Alec nodded slowly, aware of little else but the warmth of her touch.

...

In spite of his original expectations, it was actually a really nice place. Alec had long since given up abandoning his preconceived notions about Broadchurch. He just expected to be disappointed wherever he went in this town. So when she led him down a small side street to the tiny restaurant tucked in between two shops he had his doubts. But despite it's diminutive size, it was really very quaint. There was a small scattering of tables and chairs around the floor. Intricate murals of vineyards and canals painted the walls. The main lighting was dim, and several strands of lights hung across the doorways. It gave the whole room a lingering sense of hazy calm, that was only enhanced by the soft music playing in the background. And the food was excellent. He found himself placid for the first time in a really long time. He wasn't fidgety, which was what he usually experienced in social situations such as this; the need to get up and go wasn't overpowering as it usually was. After their meal was completed, they lingered over a bottle of wine. It had been a long time since he had had a dinner this wonderful. He was grudgingly impressed.

"You don't have to look so surprised, you know," Rebecca said to him wryly, as if reading his thoughts. "I can tell you didn't expect to like this place so much."

"Who says it's the place I like?" he remarked boldly, "maybe it's just the company?"

She looked at him silently, as a smile slowly spread across her face. He was pleased to see that a faint blush appeared on her neck at his comment.

"Is that so?" she asked. "And here I thought you were just here because of how much you love Broadchurch."

He grimaced before he could stop himself.

He expected her to be angry with him but instead she just laughed. "Tell me something, Alec," she said softly. Her voice slipped over him like a dusky wave of longing. "Tell me something true."

"Alright," he said, suddenly wary.

"Why do you hate this town so much?"

He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. He remembered the comments he had made to an friend not long after arriving here. How he hated the sky, the sun, the people. But as more time had passed and he had more time to ponder over the negative emotions he associated with Broadchurch he realized that that had just been a generalization. One that had been built off the prejudices and despair he himself had carried here with him. "It isn't...the town itself as much as what it represents," he said.

"And what is that, exactly?" she asked.

"It used to be innocent," he said, "and now it's not." He sighed. It seemed simple enough when he said it out loud.

"Ah," she said as she sat back in her chair. "So it's not that you hate the town itself, it's that you hate the injustice that's pervaded it, am I right? It used to be innocent and the loss of its innocence is what upsets you."

He blinked. When she put it like that... "I suppose so."

"See?" She said, smiling brightly. "You're not as big of a hard-ass as everyone, including yourself, thinks."

"Maybe," he huffed, immediately reverting back to his regular grouchy countenance.

"Oh no you don't!" Rebecca said, laughingly, "I knew your true colors all along. You may have fooled everyone else but you don't fool me."

"And how is it exactly that you know me better than myself?" he asked, smiling despite himself. That seemed to happen a lot around her, this smiling business.

Her face grew serious as she cocked her head, looking at him. She bit her lip and Alec felt his whole body grow warm as she silently assessed him.

"You know...I'm not sure," she replied honestly. "I just feel like I do. It's something about you, I know I haven't known you for very long..." she hesitated, "but I already feel really close to you." She blushed and looked away, as if she had said too much.

He grinned, and it felt completely natural. "Is that so?"

She smirked at him and took another sip of wine. "You're a horrible tease, aren't you?"

He lifted his hands in defense. "I don't know," he said with mock seriousness, "you're the Alec Hardy expert apparently, not me."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now I want to hear something true from you," Alec said.

"Fire away," she replied.

"What brought you here? To Broadchurch, I mean."

Her eyes grew sad. "Another interrogation, Detective?"

Shit. "This has nothing to do with the case."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I promise," he said gently. And it was true. It had nothing to do with his investigation and everything to do with the fact that he wanted to know any and every single thing he could about her. He was desperate to understand her. Maybe in understanding her it would become clearer to him why he had become so invested in her. And this was a riddle to him; why she ended up here, of all places. It seemed to him that a bright young woman like her could have done well anywhere. So why here?

She ran her finger across the top of her wineglass while looking at him. She seemed to be making a conscious effort to decide whether she should tell him or not. She took a long lingering sip and set the glass back down. "I used to be married," she said softly.

Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been that. He kept the surprise from his voice. "Really?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes. Right out of college. We had been seeing each other for a few years by that point, and it seemed like the logical next step."

He could hear the regret in her voice. "I'm assuming it didn't work out," he said.

She smirked, the bitter expression looking out of place on her usually bright countenance. "You could say that. It was a mistake from the beginning, actually. I got married for all the wrong reasons. Security, though, mostly. And pressure from my family to settle down."

"You're in your bloody twenties!" Alec said, outraged. This wasn't the damn middle ages.

Seeing his expression made her smile. "You don't know my parents. They're very old fashioned. And I wasn't strong enough to stand up to them." Her eyes grew clouded. "Which made me even less likely to stand up for myself when he started abusing me."

Anger, swift and full forced, hit him like a train. "Abused? He hit you?"

"No, it never got to that point," she admitted. "But he was emotionally and mentally abusive." She looked him in the eye. "And sometimes that can be worse than being hit."

If there was one thing he understood, it was that. The thought of someone doing that to her made him want to throttle them, whoever they were. "But you got away."

She nodded, a small vestige of pride illuminating her face. "I did. It took me a long time, to realize my own self worth, you know? But once I did, I woke up one day and said to myself that I was never going to put up with that kind of thing ever again." She smiled. "So I secretly went to a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up, left one day and never came back."

"Just like that?" he asked incredulously. "You just picked up and left everything behind?"

"I figured I needed to make a big change. Remove myself from all the toxic people in my life. I got here and started my life over, from scratch. It took a long time to get to where I am at this point. This is my home now. And the rest, as they say, is history."

He stared at her. Bloody hell. After everything she had been through she still looked at the world in a positive light. He thought of the way he had acted since his own life had fallen apart and felt ashamed of himself. What was he doing here? This girl was completely out of his league.

"Enough of the heavy," Rebecca suddenly announced. "Are you ready for dessert?"

"I suppose so," he said as he smiled slightly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn't resist smiling back. "Well, they serve the absolute best chocolate cake here, and I'm not sharing, so you better be prepared to order your own, Detective Inspector!"

With a flash of insight he suddenly realized why he was so drawn to her. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was, in a soft and subtle way that wasn't at all false or overbearing. It was the way she changed the very atmosphere of the room just with her presence alone. He felt...lighter somehow when he was near her. His burdens not as problematic as they had seemed before. As if her smile had the power to erase all the pain from his past. Instead of letting her past define her she had transcended it; she glowed with a passion for living. He grit his teeth. This was getting ridiculous. He wasn't some lovesick school boy. He was an adult. And this wasn't something adults were supposed to experience.

Was it?

...

It was a beautiful evening. The moon hung fat and low in the sky, throwing muted white patterns across the streets and the buildings. As they headed back to the bookstore, Rebecca shyly slid her arm through Alec's linking them together as they walked the streets of Broadchurch. Somewhere between dinner and dessert Alec had finally let go of his doubts, his worries, and just experienced each moment for what it was. He had never been the type to do that before, and it felt...freeing.

"So," Rebecca started, "About Becca Fisher."

He groaned. "Och," he said, "not this again. I told you what a mistake that had been, didn't I?"

"Yes, so you said," she said primly, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

"I was only trying to stop thinking about you," he said.

"It was kind of a bollocks move."

"That it was," he admitted.

"You should have just followed your instincts in the first place," she admonished.

He snorted. "What instincts?"

She turned and looked up at him, her eyes impish with mischief. "You should have just snogged me like you wanted to. Like I wanted you to."

He opened his mouth to respond with a witty retort, but nothing came out. She laughed, and her laughter echoed through the empty streets like a wind-chime. "So what was that business about you having to go to the hospital?"

She sure doesn't beat around the bush, does she, he thought wryly. She'd make a good detective herself, with the way she was constantly asking questions and trying to ferret out information from people. "I have a heart arrhythmia," he said. "It flares up from time to time, it's not a big deal."

She looked stricken. "That is absolutely a big deal!" Her grip on his arm tightened. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Oh my god," she gasped. "I haven't set it off, have I? With all my talking? Sometimes I talk too much, I know.."

"I'm absolutely fine," he said, cutting her off with a chuckle. "Stress can make it flare up. There is nothing you could do to aggravate it." And with a start he realized it was true. His chest hadn't pained him all evening. He hadn't even had to take his pills.

They were silent for another block of so before reaching the bookstore. She stopped in front of it, and he looked at her in confusion. "I'm not leaving you here," he protested. There was a bloody murderer on the loose. "I'll walk you the rest of the way home."

"You already have." she gestured to the store. "I live in the flat above."

He wondered why he had never thought to ask before where she had lived. "Well that's convenient," he said somewhat awkwardly.

Rebecca looked at him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well," she said nonchalantly,"I was wondering if you were going to ever get around to kissing me, or if you were planning on ignoring your instincts again? Unless..." She hesitated, suddenly looking unsure. "Unless I was completely wrong and you actually don't want me at all?"

He was on fire, his whole body throbbed with the desire to take her into his arms. Not want her at all? Was she crazy? With a sudden, jerky movement her grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against his chest. He could feel her heart beating wildly against his chest, like the wings of a bird. He looked down at her and saw her face flushed. He thought of what she had told him earlier and hesitated.

She sighed. "I'm not made of glass, Alec," she whispered. "I promise I won't break."

"I don't want you to think..." he started.

"Don't want me to think what? That you're taking advantage of me? Listen," she explained patiently. "The past is over and done with. I'm got tired of just being a survivor years ago. Now all I want to do is live."

"I'm older than you, you know," he said, unsure of why he was suddenly being such a huge prat.

"Does that matter?" she asked quizzically, as she took a step closer to him.

He swallowed. "Not to me."

"It doesn't matter to me either," she said softly as she gripped the lapels of his suit and pulled him closer. He squeezed her arms tightly as he lowered his head and finally did what he had been longing to do since he first met her.

He kissed her.

Hard.

To his delight she responded eagerly, hungrily. Their mouths came together in a fierce clash of tongues and teeth and lips. He was expecting soft and gentle and instead found her almost feverish as he was. Weeks of pent up frustration poured from the both of them. The sweet smell of lemons pervaded his senses as he crushed her to him, simultaneously spiking his desire and overwhelming him with tenderness. This precious, precious woman. It suddenly came to him that she was his complement in every way; she was light where he was dark, soft where he was hard. Hopeful where he was world-weary. Her very being seemed to flow through the cracks in his heart, lighting him up like the sun. She twined her arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into her even closer. Her body trembled against his frame. He pressed his hand against the small of her back, steadying her. He could feel the warmth from her skin through her dress. She brushed her hips against his, rubbing against his erection. He groaned and tightened his grip on her. Her lips formed a smile against his lips. He could feel it even with his eyes closed. With a soft growl he sank his teeth into her lower lip, causing her to gasp with pleasure into his mouth.

His phone went off in his pocket, making them both jump. She pulled away, her hair was mussed and her lips slightly swollen from his kisses, her eyes bright and disoriented; she had been as lost as he was in the moment. The moment that had, sod it all, been invariably ruined.

Cursing under his breath he pulled his phone and answered with a terse, "Hardy."

It was Miller. He had, for a brief moment, forgotten why he was here in the first place. Her calm voice brought him crashing back down to reality; the case, the murder, the investigation. There was new evidence that had cropped up and she wanted to discuss it with him. He rubbed his eyes wearily and agreed to meet her at the station. He hung up and looked over at Rebecca, who was leaning with her back against the door to her shop. She grinned.

"Duty calls?" she asked. "To be continued?"

Knowing what he had to do versus what he wanted to do didn't make it any easier. "Rebecca..." he started to say,

She shook her head, cutting him off. "No, you don't need to explain. I want you to catch this bastard just as much as anyone."

Relieved that she wasn't angry, he stepped over and kissed her swiftly, softly on the lips. "I'll call you," he said.

She smiled and bit her lip. "Please do," she said simply.

He turned and walked away, heading in the direction of his car, knowing that if he stayed for a moment longer he wouldn't be able to leave at all.

~*~ To be continued