"Golden dates! That's what my mom used to buy on special occasions like thanksgiving." They were finishing dinner in the hotel restaurant "and my grandfather he liked the other ones they also grew in California – they were more the dry dates" Dempsey rattled his head as he tried to think "'the sweet' that's what pop used to call them – I looked them up once um" he hung his head as he thought Hawaii no but similar "Halawi" he said with some triumph.

Harry stretched her hand across the table reaching towards Dempsey's and decided to go for gold "Actually I dreamed of a date where I after the dancing stopped I stood outside in the warm summers night and my man wrapped his arm around me whilst we watched the stars, then he called me his princess before kissing me so sweetly and gently." She looked at him for his reaction; Dempsey looked acutely embarrassed and Harry panicked that she'd got it wrong.

Dempsey had been edgy all night; once he'd changed for dinner he'd left Harry to shower and dress suggesting meeting up in the hotel bar. Over dinner he'd looked at her – just looked at her – often not eating or speaking – both of which he was usually first class at and Harry couldn't fathom it out. Randomly he'd snap back to the present and crack jokes about Spikings going through their expenses and such things but he'd kept everything work related until the sudden and unexpected diversion back onto dates.

The wine waiter approached Dempsey and whispered something in his ear. Dempsey thanked him and turned back to Harry "You still interested in some stargazing partner?" he asked with a tremor in his voice that unnerved Harry. He stood and she followed suit enabling him to lead her out to where his car had been brought round to the front of the hotel. He opened the passenger door for her but Harry stopped before she got in and laughed nervously "pink champagne and it's a date!" she bargained.

Dempsey moved the champagne bottle and glasses to allow her to sit "Pink Champagne" he confirmed as he held the bottle "but it ain't a date unless you've been asked out"

Confusion swirled around Harry and she felt so afraid she'd got it all wrong; she thought she had been asked – well in a Dempsey way at least. Feeling more nervous than a 14year old on her first date she sat in the car and the silence was tense.

James' stomach was tied up in a hundred knots but he wanted to do this properly, he wanted to tell her that she was the love of his life, that he wanted them to date properly. He wanted to ask that they could share their days together, their evenings and leisure – like they did now but to get to understand how they each really felt and to kiss, to cuddle; that their touching would be an expression of their desires and affection and in time to spend their nights together as well. And he wanted to tell her, like he started to before, that she was beautiful, that her smile was like the sunshine that broke through the clouds. He loved the joy that danced in her eyes and he wished he could bottle the scent that was her and carry it with him. That her touches and caresses melted him and he never wanted to leave the comfort of her arms, that to walk along the beach with her had been a taste of heaven. He realised he would never remember the half of it yet he wanted to tell her all of it and he didn't know what to say first

Dempsey placed the blanket on the ground; he opened the champagne and filled the two glasses. "Are you ready to do a little star gazing Mrs Dempsey he asked? Let me show you". He lay down on his back looking up at the sky then immediately sitting back up he took Makepeace by her hand and she allowed herself to be guided down. They sipped their champagne as a diversion from not knowing what to say or do. "We have to lay flat to get the best views" Dempsey finally ventured and so Harry lay at 90 degrees to him with her head on his chest and looked up at the stars. She felt Dempsey's fingers run through her hair. May be, just may be tonight would be the night. She could feel his heart beat.

"James" she ventured actually wondering whose heart was thumping

"Harry...." he whispered back softly and twisted a few strands of her hair around his finger as he tried to get the next words out

When the silence had hung for too long Harry cut back in "So how many stars can you name?" she asked looking up into the sky - they seemed to be appearing thick and fast as her eyes got used to the dark.

"Just some of the bigger and brighter ones. It was never this dark in New York."

Dempsey pointed out some stars and she followed his instructions with her eyes as she sorted them out. Then she got lost, there were so many bright stars she couldn't work out which he meant. She moved to lie right next to him so she saw the same angle as him and could follow his line of sight as he pointed up. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulling her right into him showed her a few more. Simultaneously as he let his arm drop and just hold her Harry nestled herself into his neck ~ they fell silent, both aware how naturally they could anticipate each others mood. For the first time that night they relaxed into each other.

Once again Harry spoke first "you learnt to use the stars in Vietnam I guess"

"Yeh but that's not where I learnt to love them - he fell silent.

Harry let the silence rest a while then spoke gently "you remembering now"

"Yeh"

"Were they good times?"

"Yeh"

Harry was worried again as to whom he might be thinking off.

Dempsey solved her problem "we used to sit on the back step, half way down and watch for a long time that way you could see the most stars. The New York city lights mean far fewer stars show up."

"With Simone?" she ventured

Dempsey shook his head.

'O God' thought Harry how many lovers? His mind was still far away Harry prompted him "Dempsey?"

"I was 9 or 10 ~ my mum got me a book from the library" Harry found his hand and squeezed it. He painted a picture with his words and Harry felt honoured to be there. He fell silent again then in the silence turned raising himself up slightly on to his side, leaning on his left elbow and looked at Harry. Feeling his eyes on her Harry raised herself squarely to the ground with both arms supporting her. Their eyes locked onto each other and began a cycle of gazing, searching, hoping… "You and me ~" James started the conversation that was the aim of the evening "we have such a great friendship ~ I don't want to loose that"

Harry agreed "me neither - the trouble is" she added "I'm not sure if things can stay still ~ you know the stuff about if something's not moving forwards it's dying" How could their fantastic friendship die she wondered; surely that would never happen.

When he had very first arrived in the UK she had been torn between his looks and sexuality and his arrogance, impertinence and out right rudeness. Then she hated his violence in the police cell but loved the gentleness he could display like when he gave big Ben his NYPD badge and also when Sarah was killed. Time had passed and they had gradually become the best partners in work (instinctively they knew each others moves) and best friends out of work with a fantastic understanding about tastes in film, theatre, alcohol, dancing together and even chinese take aways! And sexually? Well they both flirted and both, both what? Both played at the boyfriend / girlfriend thing without giving any indication that it meant anything - they both still held deep secrets and buried hopes and unfulfilled desires.

"We're great together Harry"

"Apart from when we're fighting" she pointed out

"Well some of that's pretty hot baby"

"Well they say hate joins the circle to love" Harry reflected

"I never want us to hate ~ we've had such good times together" Dempsey brushed her fringe away

"You and me at work" Harry reached up and brushed his cheek

"At parties"

"And picnics"

"On the beach"

"Drinking champagne"

"Under the stars"

Knowing how close to declaring his love he was and how scared he still was of rejection Dempsey found himself postponing the moment by going back to the stars "You get the same view in New York as London" he explained

"Will you go back?" Harry was scared of the answer

"I have to go for the trial when ever that happens"

"And after?" could she love him enough to release him back to New York? That was what true love did on the films at the cinema, she prayed she wouldn't be put in that position.

'And after' he contemplated, 'depends on you Harry' he thought.

Harry remembered that longing she heard in his voice when he talked about his childhood, his family, Thanksgiving. She felt the pull from across the ocean and took the silence to mean that he would go back- he just didn't know how to tell her. She lay back on her back looking up swallowing hard to stop a scream of despair emanating from her mouth. Disappointment surged through her and she wanted to be sick – she had just started to live a nightmare that she could never wake up from.