They were sat at her kitchen table, the lights low and a small group of candles between them. Robbie was helping himself to another spoonful of beef curry,
"You know, Laura, this is absolutely smashing…best curry I've had in ages, probably ever"
She grinned, pleased that her efforts had been appreciated, and quietly impressed that he was enjoying the very spicy dish. It wasn't that she'd been nervous, not really, just keen to make him happy.
"Thanks, it's my Dad's recipe…he's even more of a curry addict than you are"
Robbie helped himself to another generous spoonful and ripped off a large piece of garlic naan bread,
"And this, this is amazing…where did you get it?"
She smiled as he licked his fingers clean, raising an eyebrow slightly, and wondered idly if he ever cooked anything from scratch,
"I made it…"
He took another bite and beamed at her,
"Blimey woman, you're a bloody genius."
She shook her head, chuckling warmly and carefully forked another mouthful of rice to her lips,
"I'll remind you of that next I can't find my car keys and have to resort to walking to work"
He swallowed and looked at her confused,
"Seriously?"
She nodded sheepishly and nibbled her lower lip.
"Happens often?"
Again, she looked embarrassed and returned her attention to her food, before quietly admitting,
"At least once a month"
He laughed in spite of himself and quickly faked a cough to stifle it. She held his gaze knowingly and he reached over to pat her hand,
"Don't worry pet, I'll give you a lift next time"
"So is the case all wrapped up?"
He looked up from his third helping of beef and sat back in his chair,
"Yep, at least until it goes to trial, will be a couple of months, at least"
She nodded, nibbling at one of the last pieces of naan,
"Good. I'll finish my write up tomorrow afternoon and get it off to the CPS."
"No particular rush, love…"
She warmed at the endearment, and nodded resignedly,
"Yes, there is, I've got a pile of reports to finish already, and teaching reviews are due next week. Not to mention the article that you were perusing earlier…"
She smirked at her own words and sighed dramatically,
"What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment"
He grinned back, helping himself to another serving of vegetables,
"…whereas I'm just a glutton"
She chuckled throatily, and topped up his wine glass.
"Seriously though, your research looked interesting…"
She contemplated him, running her index finger around the edge of her wine glass, her head tilting slightly,
"Yes, it is sometimes. Sometimes it's more trouble than it's worth…but I like to think that it'll make a difference"
He carefully placed his knife and fork on the now-empty plate and brought his elbows to rest on the table. Resting his chin on his hand, he leaned forward,
"Does it have a medical application, what you're doing?"
She took a sip of her deliberately small glass of wine and nodded,
"Hopefully. It's all about kidney function. I'm using the results of a few post-mortems to demonstrate how certain compounds deteriorate. Hopefully someone might then use some of my conclusions to improve what we know about treating certain conditions…"
She trailed off, concerned, as always, that she might be boring him. She was well-used to people's eyes starting to glaze over when she talked about her work, but this time she was pleasantly surprised. He looked genuinely interested, and so she continued,
"Kidney failure is pretty difficult to treat - they don't regenerate in the way that the liver can - and at the moment most people end up on dialysis which is both expensive and very time-consuming"
Robbie nodded thoughtfully and took a sip from his glass,
"It puts it all in a new light, doesn't it?"
She looked puzzled, wondering where he was going,
"How so?"
"All the death and, you know, the…chopping up"
He was so uncomfortable with the practical side of her job, and she bit her lip to stop herself smiling. As her father had so often reminded her, not everyone shared her ability to compartmentalize, to detach, and so she tried to be sensitive,
"Mmm…I suppose it does"
He smiled gently, his mind still contemplating her work, wondering for the hundredth time how such a delicate, sophisticated woman could spend a large amount of her time hacking up dead bodies. It just didn't fit. But just as he thought it, he checked himself. Stop being such a misogynist dinosaur, Lewis. Just because she's beautiful, doesn't mean she isn't damn good at her job. She raised an eyebrow, obviously picking up on some of his turmoil, and he tried to explain,
"I still find it strange that you can cut people up"
She almost laughed, but realised that he was being serious,
"It is my job, Robbie…"
He sat back in his seat, sighed slightly,
"I know, pet, it's just…" he paused, not sure how to phrase it, "I don't know how you do it"
She smiled patiently, wondering quite how honest she should be, biting her lip slightly. He reached across the table and took her hand,
"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, I didn't mean anything by it…"
She squeezed his hand and decided that, as in all things, honest was probably best,
"You didn't. And if it's any consolation, sometimes I don't quite know how I do it myself"
He didn't notice the flicker of emotion cross her face, he was too concerned that he might have put her on the spot. He stroked his fingers across the back of her hand,
"So how did you get into medicine?"
She allowed him to play with the ring on her finger, smiling at his tenderness,
"Easy really…good at science at school, A-levels, then Oxford…to be honest I didn't put an awful lot of thought into it"
"Really?"
He looked surprised, and she shrugged,
"I suppose a few teachers made suggestions along the way, but it was all just a bit of a logical sequence"
"It must have been bloody hard work, though"
She met his eyes, and realised that of all her friends, no one had ever asked her such simple questions, such fundamental things about her life. She slipped her hand under his palm and linked their fingers,
"It was… That said, it is always interesting"
He smiled, and for a moment she was slightly unnerved by how closely he was listening to her,
"How about you?"
At first he looked confused, tapping his thumb nervously on the table, then simply resigned,
"I hated school"
"Really?"
"Yeah, wasn't much call for books and studying round my way"
She was shocked, but didn't want to show it, he looked embarrassed enough,
"I can't imagine not liking school"
"Yeah well…I didn't stay long"
He grinned cheekily, hoping it would lighten the mood, and she smiled back indulgently,
"Well, you certainly seem to have done ok in spite of it"
He squeezed her hand gently, their eyes meeting,
"Aye, can't say I'm complaining…"
"Was Monty alright earlier?"
She was starting to clear the table, piling their plates carefully.
"Aye, he was fine, just curled up on my bed looking pleased with himself"
She collected the casserole dish, pleased that they'd finished the lot,
"Really? That's exactly where I left him earlier!"
He sighed audibly, taking another sip of his wine,
"Sounds about right…"
She'd been in his bedroom. The thought excited him probably more than it should and he shifted slightly in his seat.
"And what were you doing in my bedroom, young lady…"
She turned away from the counter quickly and looked at him guiltily, answering a little too quickly,
"Nothing. I'm sorry…"
He held up his hands in appeasement, not a little amused at her reaction,
"Hey, it's ok…I'm only joking"
She smiled nervously, embarrassed by her overreaction, and turned back to the sink to fill the bowl with some water, for the pans to soak. For god's sake, Laura, just leave it. Her mind was suddenly racing ahead, though, in spite of her attempts to keep it in check, and the words were out of her mouth before she knew it,
"How is this going to work, Robbie?"
For a moment he wondered if she meant the washing up, but he quickly realised that she was thinking about something else. He stood up, and gathering the last of the cutlery walked over to stand behind her. He slipped the knives and forks into the soapy water of the bowl and wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her against him,
"How is what going to work, Laura?"
There was something about his proximity that made this harder to say, and she moved away, reaching out to collect the pan still sitting on the hob. He released his grip slightly, feeling her muscles tense against him,
"This…us…my house, your house..."
Her voice was too casual, too off-hand, and all of a sudden she sounded exhausted. He wasn't entirely clear how she had suddenly become so wound up, but he kept his cool. He was beginning to understand the pattern of her emotions, her thoughts. She would fret, wind herself up, possibly for hours, days, and then it would just come out, apparently from nowhere. It was never as bad as she thought, but her mind seemed to race ahead. Must be the curse of being so damn intelligent. He massaged his forehead, and took a breath, giving her a moment. She plunged the large pan into the warm water and sighed loudly,
"It's all just so impossible"
She felt him step closer again, the palm of his right hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder,
"It doesn't feel impossible, Laura"
He kissed the back of her head, smiling as she didn't fight him, as she relaxed slightly,
"I would move in with you in a heartbeat, you know, but this is your home and I wouldn't want to force myself on you"
She smiled wryly, wondering if she could manage a joke at his expense at his turn of phrase, but decided against it. Instead she closed her eyes and leant back against his firm chest. His hands slid up and down her arms, soothing her,
"What would you like, Laura?"
She hesitated, her mind not fully grasping his meaning,
"I'm not sure what you're asking"
He smiled tightly, his hands stilling their movement, his chin coming to rest against her hair,
"I'm asking what you would like, what you want from me"
He swallowed, aware of the magnitude of his question, but determined not to push her too hard. She was quiet for a long moment, considering his words, weighing their meaning. No one had ever asked her what she wanted. She wasn't even sure if she'd ever really asked herself. Not really. There was something rather pathetic to have reached the grand old age of 52 and to have no idea what she truly wanted in her life. Her life was full, of course it was, but she had never looked at it critically. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to consider it, face on. She shivered slightly, the warm water on her hands making her feel chilled, and she took an uneven breath. The answer was glaringly obvious, now that she gave it conscious attention,
"This. I just want this"
He wrapped his arm around her stomach again, his thumb caressing her hip gently, and she felt a kiss pressed to her temple. To her horror she shivered again, and a sob rose. Tears pricked her eyes, and she fought hard to control her breathing. He registered the change immediately and instinctively held her closer.
"Oh god, I'm sorry…"
Again, a kiss against her temple,
"It's ok, love…"
Gingerly, he reached over for a tea-towel from the nearby rail and extracted her hands from the soapy water, drying them carefully.
"I'm never normally like this, I promise. I just…"
As he turned her to face him, she wiped the tears from her eyes, mortified by her lack of composure.
"It's ok…you're not doing anything wrong…"
He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs, his hands cupping her head,
"I'm being pathetic"
He smiled, kissing her lightly on the lips, his eyes daring her to challenge him,
"No you're not. And I told you before, I'm not going anywhere. Come 'ere you"
With a final sniffle, he wrapped her tightly against his chest, her face coming to nuzzle against his jumper. Gradually her breathing settled, and he kissed her forehead deliberately,
"OK?"
"Mmmm"
"Good. Now, did you say something earlier about ice cream?"
A/N - Please let me know what you think ;) PS. I have good news and bad news. I accidentally planned out another story this afternoon...and I already have enough plot for 25 chapters. Hmmm. Same characters, much more angsty / dramatic...dare I say realistic? ;)