Dempsey stirred, and that woke Harry. She opened her eyes and found herself looking across the room. She saw a trail of clothes: her dress half covered by Dempsey's shirt – then she spotted her bra and, as she gazed with interest to the floor by the bed, she saw her knickers and Dempsey's boxers draped across the carpet. What really shook her was the smile that ran across her face - then the hangover kicked in. The throbbing headache commanded her attention and she was desperate for something to drink – anything.

The other major problem competing for her attention was that of facing Dempsey; she could feel his movement and now was inscrutably aware that she was naked in the same bed as him. Whilst the initial smile was genuine and she really wasn't aghast at the idea of sleeping with him she had imagined it would happen after they had had some sort of conversation about a relationship. She also knew that right now really wasn't the time – the searing pain in her head would confuse her thoughts and it was rather important that this would go well.

Dempsey had stirred and sat up; it was the movement to sitting that made the world around swirl and his head felt as if it would burst open. He opened his eyes to look at his watch then shut them again; the brightness told him it was time to be up and also that he had drunk far too much moonshine. Over by the door he could see his shirt on the floor and he carried some recall of a rather passionate and hot encounter with Harry. Fearful that Harry would be full of regret his initial reaction was to hide the evidence from her, at least until they got a proper chance to talk. He looked to his right, she seemed to be sleeping and he slipped out of bed – he was still wearing a robe which he refastened around his waist and despite the thunderous sounds in his head he walked across the room. Each footstep he took sounded in his head but it only took 12 steps to reach his shirt and her dress, then vest and bra – he turned to the bed to look for the remaining items and noticed Harry watching him through bleary half opened eyes; she smiled for the second time that morning – he had to admit to being rather amazed at that. He picked up his clothes and feeling rather embarrassed dropped her clothes from his hand onto the bed, leaving her knickers on the floor.

"I think I have the hangover from hell" she said realising then how loud her own voice echoed in her head as if to confirm it.

Dempsey was halfway to the bathroom

"Is there a glass – anything - so I can drink some water" she called

Dempsey scanned the bathroom, there were two new tooth brushes, courtesy toiletries and a glass – he used all he needed as quickly as possible then took a glass of water out to Harry

"I think we'd better get down to breakfast" he suggested, aware that he needed plenty to eat and copious amounts of coffee.

She had managed to wrap the sheet around her and she stood to take the glass from him and made her way into the bathroom to wash and dress.

They made their way down for breakfast in silence, but that was much to do with their hangovers as embarrassment. As Harry had washed and dressed she had tried to recall the events of the night but to little avail. She could remember the beginning of the Céilidh and how useless and hilarious the dancing had been and she guessed as she and James had drunk more they must have gotten intimate but she had no idea and just hoped she hadn't made a fool of herself in public. She wanted to be more certain about a lot of things regarding herself and James but as for sleeping with him – she remained somewhat positive about the idea – which still surprised her.

Dempsey was confused; he'd expected Harry to react differently – he wasn't disappointed that she hadn't freaked out but he felt that he still hadn't quite got the measure of her and that was unsettling. He was sorry that they had obviously done something last night, gone some way together – he had always wanted anything that happened between them to be slow, sensual and loving and mostly to have a memory of their first time that they both could treasure. On the other hand part of him was in seventh heaven - Harry was not adverse to the idea of being with him.

They sat to one side of the dining room and Dempsey finally stopped eating hungrily and sipped his second cup of black coffee looking sheepishly at Makepeace.

"Harry"

"James?"

Dempsey looked awkward, "Did you enjoy last night?"

Makepeace tried to look nonchalant "Um… great" she added "Great crowd your new relatives" likewise she sipped her coffee

"Yeh" Dempsey seemed unsure, he cleared his throat, "and later?"

"Later?"

"You know"

Makepeace knew well what he meant, but as she could remember nothing she fished to find out what he knew "Did you?" she turned the question around.

"Yeh", he looked down and Harry knew he was lying. He looked back up at Harry; she looked directly into his eyes. Their stare became fixed, daring the other to admit first.

Dempsey surprised himself by speaking first

"Ok; so did we or didn't we?"

"Did we or didn't we what?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"I haven't the faintest idea!" she teased

"Sleep with each other. Come on Harry, don't beat about the bush - did we do it?"

"You don't remember?" she half asked, half accused

"…Well…... not much ……"

Harry couldn't keep up the pretence any more

"Bloody Hell Dempsey neither can I; I've got a vague thing in my mind about Fry…"

"Fry…. Now you come to mention it..."

As if on cue Fry came into the dining room, Dempsey called him over. Harry glared fiercely at Dempsey, he winked back at her; he had a vague recollection building in his mind

"Fry come and join us" have you been in contact with Spikings yet

"Ah, well I over slept, late night last night" Fry whispered sheepishly.

Ah last night Fry, Harry kicked under the table, Fry jerked as her foot found the wrong target.