A/N - OK, so this is an entirely optional (for plot) interlude, rated T/M... it's suggestive, and not at all explicit. Much like the characters themselves ;o)

The room was dark when Laura opened her eyes. She was hot, too hot…wrapped in her thick pyjamas, under the duvet, with a large, very warm man holding her tight against his chest. Her mouth was dry and she could feel the beginning of a headache coming. She would have felt guilty, risking waking him as she extricated herself, but as another loud snore resonated in her ear she was certain that it was he who had woken her. Gently, she lifted his arm and rolled him over. He mumbled something, and then settled again. She smiled indulgently, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and slipped quietly out of the bed.

Once she had shut the bathroom door, she flicked on the light. The brightness hurt her eyes, but they soon adjusted. It was far too hot for pyjamas, and after a weekend in the igloo that was Ellen's house, her body was seriously overheated. For a moment she stood naked in front of the mirror, contemplating her reflection. She saw naked bodies on an almost daily basis in her line of work and nudity really didn't faze her. Bodies were bodies. Hers was lithe, always had been, but it was softening as she got older. She wasn't sure if she minded or not. It was a long time since anyone had seen her like this. Biting her lip and frowning slightly as she pondered that thought, she reached out and grabbed the long nightshirt that she normally wore. She slipped the cool cotton over her head and pulled the sleeves down. It fell just above the knee, perfectly decent, but it wasn't something she'd answer the door in. She ran her hand through her hair again, trying to smooth it down a little.

There was a glass on the counter, and she filled it with cold water. Sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet she sipped it slowly. She still couldn't entirely believe that he had loved her for such a long time. That he could have gone all those years without saying anything. That he could have tied himself up in such knots. But it made sense. The more the thought sank in, the more it made sense. It both thrilled her and broke her heart. Could she say the same about him? No, she couldn't. When they'd first met she'd liked him, of course she had…but he had been married and she'd never seriously asked herself that question. When Val had died, she'd wanted to look after him, had cared a lot…but no, it wasn't the same. When he'd left for the BVI, practically without a word, though, she'd been very upset. She remembered the job offer in Durham, the temptation to leave had been strong, get away from it all. But even that had felt more like guilt, guilt that she hadn't been able to help her friend. No, it was when he came back, when her heart raced in spite of that ridiculous bloody shirt that the penny had finally dropped. She drained the glass and set it back carefully on the marble. Eight years. For god's sake, what a pair… She stood and stretched out her shoulders, rubbing out the kinks, before yawning loudly. She had no idea what time it was, but she knew exactly where she wanted to be.

As the light clicked off in the bathroom, Robbie smiled to himself. He'd woken the moment she rolled him over, feeling the warm press of her lips on his forehead, and he'd been waiting for the past ten minutes for her to finish whatever the hell she was up to in there. The moonlight was streaming in through the gap in the curtains, and as the bathroom door opened, he could see her standing there, blinking in the unaccustomed darkness. She had changed…gone were the heavy pyjamas, and instead she was wearing something that looked unmistakably like a man's shirt. It covered her modesty, but only just. He allowed himself a small smile, and shifted slightly in the bed. Two could play at that game.

She slipped into the bed carefully, obviously trying not to wake him. As she settled into the pillow, though, he reached out and ran his hand down from her shoulder to her fingers, his body coming to rest against her,

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

She tensed almost imperceptibly at the compliment, and slowly, she rolled over on to her side, blinking a little,

"Did I wake you?"

He shook his head, cupping her cheek in his palm before pressing a kiss to her lips. As the kiss deepened he slid his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly caressing the soft cotton, playing with the cuff, pushing it up. His fingers swept up again, tracing little circles on her warm skin,

"No…I don't sleep that well, it's what shift work does to you"

His hand moved from her arm to her shoulder, smoothing the fabric against the curve of her back, his lips teasing hers in playful kisses,

"Would I be right in thinking there's nothing under this shirt?"

He felt her smile against his lips,and she hesitated for a moment, teasing him,

"I wouldn't say that…"

The words rumbled in his throat,

"Wouldn't you…"

Slowly, teasingly, his hand edged lower, over the curve of her bottom, down her upper thigh, until it found the edge of the fabric. Her breath caught a little and he smiled to himself. His fingers ran carefully along the seam of the shirt, in a delicate line across her thigh, tracing its edge. Her hand slid up his cheek, pressing his lips once again to hers,

"Robbie…"

He smiled again, and slid his hand under the shirt, skimming his fingers up her leg until his hand cupped her bottom, caressing it gently.

"OK?"

She smiled, kissing him again, her lips lingering, playfully nibbling his,

"More than ok…"

He squeezed her bottom mischievously and she reciprocated with another lingering kiss. As the kiss deepened, he slid his hand further up her back, the shirt now riding up around her waist. As he reached the delicate curve of her spine, his thumb skimmed across her stomach, coming to rest against the soft swell of her breast.

"Do I need to ask for a further clarification on your second date policy?"

She giggled, her delicate fingers running through his hair,

"Well…the policy is usually quite strict…"

He groaned, his thumb slowly sweeping across the underside of her breast,

"Have pity on an old man…"

She smiled and tapped him on the nose, before replying in her most patronising voice,

"Well, I'm sure we could make an exception in your case"

He smiled back, finding her lips with his own again, before very deliberately running the pad of his thumb over her nipple, amused when she moaned softly against him,

"Oh god…yes definitely an exception, just this once"

He chuckled a little and did it again, eliciting an almost identical response,

"You aren't going to play mean, are you DI Lewis?"

Her voice was teasing but not a little ragged, and his body reacted immediately as her hand left his shoulder and started to slide down his chest. She paused, and he slid his own hand to the small of her back, pulling her towards him,

"Come 'ere you…"

He kissed her soundly as he rolled her body flush against his, his hand sliding back down to her bottom, holding her close against him, and he felt as much as heard the sharp intake of breath as she felt his warmth,

"Robert Lewis, are you naked!?"

He sniggered, wincing as she pretended to smack his arm,the movement only serving to press his arousal closer against her warm skin,

"You're not going to get all prudish on me now, are you Dr Hobson?"

She paused for a moment, as if weighing her options, before slowly hooking her leg around him, the sensation causing them both to shiver,

"No…I just think I should carry out a more thorough examination…"

A/N - And I shall leave the rest to your overactive imaginations... ;) Feedback would be MUCH appreciated on this chapter - first timer alert! Oo-er.