"Tell me what you got" Dempsey asked as he passed her a full glass and sat on the sofa with his. Harry picked up her folder and sat on the sofa, tucking herself into the opposite corner. She took a sip of wine and started to go through her information. Dempsey added what he knew and they discussed how it may all connect together in the end.

It took nearly two hours, but at the end they felt they were together on top of the case again. Harry stretched her legs out, they reached Dempsey's lap, he automatically started to massage her foot. 'You see' thought Harry 'at one level we almost live with each other'; she looked into his eyes, she loved it when they softened like now.

"You know Clarissa tipped Hickey off about you?" she spoke softly, enjoying his touch

Dempsey was surprised "Clarissa? The hot Irish cop?" he asked as he ran his hand up her around her ankle

Makepeace smiled, from somewhere she had found a peace that accepted she would never change that part of him "Yes, that one"

"When?"

"In Cork "

Dempsey was perplexed, "What was she doing there? I thought we met her in Dublin?"

"Dempsey if you're going to have a woman in every town you really must remember who lives where"

"That's easy" he grinned wickedly "I'll have you in every town we visit" He took her other foot and started on that,

Harry let herself take hope from the remark. "Clarissa was in Dublin but came to Cork" she explained.

"Whatever for?" Dempsey was genuinely at a loss "She wasn't part of the team" his incredulity was transparently true

"Lunch in Dublin ?" Harry stepped tentatively and nervously into the arena she had been so upset by

"She took me to a café that served Irish potato soup, you know showing off her country and it's traditions" Harry wriggled awkwardly and withdrew her foot.

Dempsey sensed her discomfort – "It was only hospitality" he added "you told me the Irish were good at that"

"You took her out to dinner" Harry still needed to work things through

"Correction, she joined me at dinner" he started to feel a bit defensive

"Well, I think she thought…"

"Women!" Dempsey was amazed "Why do women make assumptions out of absolutely nothing?"

Harry felt unable to answer that, instinct told her that she was just about to find herself guilty of the very same. Dempsey continued "I was just trying to be friendly; it doesn't have to mean anything does it?"

"There are a lot of pretty Irish ladies to be friendly to" Makepeace observed

"Yeh" he smiled, he loved women but he 'loved' the English one sitting in front of him right now.

"Like the barmaid that Clarissa saw you with at the hotel in Cork ." Harry explained

"Is that why she talked to Hickey?" Dempsey was amazed and at a loss to understand this Clarissa thing. He had rated her as a good cop – she certainly knew her way around the underworld of criminals and villains, giving him some valuable information for their case.

"Guess so" Harry could feel for Clarissa's jealousy; she thought it a little miss placed after one non meal but jealousy was exactly what had prompted her departure to Northern Ireland alone.

At dinner Clarissa had shared quite a bit about the IRA case she was working on and to Dempsey her discerning skills had appeared to be on a par with Makepeace's but the evidence seemed to show that she jumped to conclusions rather too quickly.

Dempsey started to reply "How many times have I said that women should never be cops?" he paused to take a deep breath and then launched "They're just too emotional, unreliable, overreact, and are totally unpredictable"

Harry felt each phrase knife into her.

Unaware of anything going through Harry's mind Dempsey stood up. "Let's go down to the bar" he suggested.

"I don't know" Harry sounded uncertain, she actually felt quite tired.

"Come on, I'll but you a cocktail or two" He took her hand and pulled her gently up and said something that made her laugh.

"OK" she relented.

The bar was nearly empty, a few people were scattered around, and a pianist was playing. Dempsey ordered a Manhatten and a Marguerite; they sat to the right of the pianist and listened for a few minutes. Dempsey spoke "There was an Irish man, a Scots and an Englishman…." He had Harry in fits with some of the jokes he had learnt. They shared a couple more cocktails, and Dempsey was so relieved to have Harry back by his side, enjoying each others company. He looked longingly at her, but she mainly missed the glances, although she did appreciate those she was aware of. Harry was day dreaming, she was at Kenwood, then sharing a takeaway, then at the ball, then pressing her white rose… she leant against James and sipped her drink. Faced with so many images even she began to think they actually did rather look like a dating couple; she so longed for the invitation or something to tell her with certainty that they were.

Harry was forced back out of her thoughts, Dempsey was holding her hand, "Princess let's have a dance before I have to go back". She allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor area. They were the only couple, but soon a few others followed their lead.

Dempsey put his arm around Harry's waist and pulled her into him

Harry just melted into his body - this was her dream. Right now she wanted the whole place to fade away and leave the two of them alone. Dempsey felt Harry's hand on his shoulder, her fingers intertwine with his. He could feel her breathe. He longed for her company, her smile and her perfume. He drank in the aroma and held her. My God he needed to succeed in making this Ireland thing work.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and they moved slowly in circles both so content to feel the other within their arms and share the time and space as one. Neither thought or spoke, they literally enjoyed the moment for all that it held.

The bar lights turned down, the music stopped. "Bed time sweetheart" Dempsey gently kissed her cheek. Harry looked into his eyes; they looked back with that deep piecing she had felt before. Dempsey felt as if his heart was burning as her eyes warmed his whole being. He led her to the stairs and kissed her again on the cheek "Sleep well Princess. I'll pick you up in the morning"

"Dempsey" she looked into his eyes and didn't know what it was she wanted to say, not right there, not just then. She touched his upper arm "night".

They walked away from each other, both glancing back, but missing the other doing the same with a series of mis-timings.