Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers: See Chap. 1
A/N: And so we've come to the final chapter! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews, I really do appreciate you taking the time - hope this last installment doesn't disappoint x
Three weeks later….
Boyd removed his reading glasses in frustration, watching as they clattered from his hand and along the length of his desk, the breath leaving his body in a rush of heated vexation. They had finally begun to make headway with the case, even to the point of interviewing their main suspect at tenaciously exhausting length, but ultimately every effort had been to no avail; before his eyes at present, in glaring black typeface, was confirmation from the Director of Public Prosecutions that, based on a lack of physical evidence, James Fall should have no case to answer. Boyd had tried persistently to argue in opposition, his gut utterly convinced of Fall's undeniable guilt, but the DPP's position was clear: the CPS would not prosecute given the current state of evidence. End of fucking story.
Boyd sighed anew, the rattling of air from his lungs practically deafening in the darkened silence of his office. He had dismissed Spencer and Eve some hours previously, their crushing disappointment at the sudden collapse of the case almost palpable as they had stalked silently from the bullpen, expressions solemn. He had moved to encourage Grace's early exit at the same time, unsurprised when she had shaken her head and retreated quietly into her office, a contemplative air surrounding her in contrast to the violent slamming of his own office door against its hinges.
He stole a glance at her presently through the brutally clear glass of their mutual office walls, allowing his heart to swell with sensations he had spent the previous three weeks keeping ruthlessly in check. The memory of awakening with her in his arms, his nostrils aflame with her scent had tormented him, their unconscious, accidental sleeping position re-igniting the issue of their relentless and sustained suppression. She had been pointedly silent on the subject of their encounter, their interactions since that time wholly professional, and she had yet to insist on a conversation, though he was fully aware he could not escape the inevitable forever. And do I even want to? He wondered, rubbing a thoughtful hand across his jaw. Isn't it about time we had the balls to face up to the fact that for almost a decade we've been…? He gave a gentle snort as he watched her begin to saunter towards his door. Ah. Speak of the devil and she shall appear….
Grace paused at the entrance to his office, leaning her weight against the wooden frame and raising her eyebrows as she gestured towards the papers still being gripped between his fingers. "I take it that's from the CPS," she opened mildly. "Further confirmation of what they said to you on the 'phone?"
He grunted in accession and tossed the letters onto his desk with an agitated flick of his wrist. "From the DPP himself, no less."
Grace's sapphire eyes twinkled impishly in the half light. "You've gone up in the world, then."
"Bastard," he breathed vehemently in reply. "He's not even willing to give us any more time on it either."
"Well," she intoned reasonably, moving fully into his domain and taking an uninvited seat on his couch. "At the risk of playing Devil's Advocate for a minute…."
"Oh, don't you fucking dare."
"We didn't have enough evidence, Boyd. Nothing that could've solidly linked Falls to those victims."
"We'd have got there," he insisted stonily, pushing the papers further across his desk in annoyance. "We always bloody get there, don't we?"
"Most of the time…."
"So, there you go. The book's been closed and Falls is free to do it again."
Grace inclined her head. "Of course, it's always possible he didn't do it, you know…."
"Don't even start. I can see the damned devil horns poking out from under your hair."
She laughed throatily. "Devil's Advocate, Boyd."
"One and the bloody same, in your particular case."
The psychologist raised a long-suffering and placating palm. "You've got to admit it's a possibility. However remote your gut tells you it is."
"It's just the fucking short-sightedness of it that gets me. We're not exactly talking minor burglary or shop-lifting here and still the CPS won't touch it…."
"It's the reasonable doubt thing. You know that as well as I do."
Boyd gave a contemptuous snort. "There is no doubt…."
"I think a jury might beg to differ. Which is why the CPS don't want the expense of a trial."
He cast her a scathing glance. "What is this: 'Basic Premises of Law 101'?"
She smiled innocently. "Why, do you need a refresher?"
"Piss off, Grace. If you've just come in here to needle me, you can get the hell out."
"Hm," she intoned evenly, pretending to consider her options as she narrowed her eyes. "I was going to suggest I open that nice bottle of red I've got secreted away in my desk drawer…."
"That's bribery…."
"…but if you'd rather I left…."
"Oh, for Christ's sake. Go and get the bloody wine and shut your bloody mouth, will you?"
She smiled triumphantly and rose quickly to her feet, returning several moments later to find him reclining against the back of the couch, his eyes half closed, and she had to fight a sudden and powerful urge to press her palm to his cheek. With a gentle sigh, she sank to the cushions beside him and silently poured them both a generous sluice of Merlot, handing him the thin-stemmed glass before settling back to sip from her own.
"So," she said eventually, breaking the easy stillness that had descended as they both became lost in their own spiralling thoughts, forcing the words past her larynx despite the trepidation churning in her stomach. "Do you think perhaps it's time we talked?"
He groaned, his head falling back in protest against the rear of the couch, one eye opening reluctantly to survey her. "I'm guessing it's not optional on the tour, is it?"
She smiled. "'Fraid not."
He gave a dramatic sigh and raised his head once more, steeling himself for her forthcoming words. "Come on, then," he said stoically after several further moments had passed. "Let's get it over with."
Grace raised an eyebrow. "That's how you want to approach it? As an endurance test?"
"It usually is with women, isn't it?"
"Well, I wouldn't know, Boyd. Funnily enough I can't speak for the whole of my gender."
He gave a dismissive wave and tutted disdainfully. "Broadly speaking."
"I hardly think the term 'broad' could be applied to our situation, do you?"
Boyd grinned wolfishly. "I don't know, Grace. I like to think of myself as vastly experienced in that department."
She read his smug expression instantly, easily. "Meaning you've been there before, have you? In a tent?"
"Once or twice in my misspent youth. Could you honestly see me agreeing to camp if not for the incentive of a woman's company?"
Grace gave a slight shake of her head, frustration mounting behind her eyes at the blithe edge to his tone. "It's not the same thing."
"Oh, come on. I don't see why this needs to be blown out of all proportion."
"Well, go on, then. Why don't you summarise exactly what you think it was all about?"
He exhaled emphatically, deliberately placing his wine glass next to his feet and pushing himself away from the couch, suddenly needing some physical distance, and he leant stiffly against the edge of his desk as he tried to vocalise his jumbled thoughts. "I think….that we don't need to over-complicate it, that's all. People do unexpected things when they're removed from their normal environment, don't they?"
"They do," she agreed carefully. "Though probably not to the extent that…."
"As far as I remember it, Grace, nothing happened that couldn't be put down to extenuating circumstances."
She eyed him curiously, studiously maintaining her façade of calm whilst fully aware that inside she was crumbling. "Why are you being so defensive?"
"I'm not. I just don't see why we need to analyse this to the nth degree when in reality…."
"In reality, what?"
"…we can probably put it down to the fact that two old friends got slightly carried away in a circumstance way beyond the norm. Simple as that."
"Alright," she intoned evenly. "Tell me this. If we'd been alone in that tent, Boyd, or if Spencer hadn't reminded us that he was there…what do you think would have happened?"
His gaze was scathing. "Are you being serious?"
"Absolutely serious."
"You've got no excuse for being that naïve, Grace. None whatsoever."
She inclined her head. "You're saying we'd have slept together."
"Well, don't you think so?"
"Yes," she replied honestly. "In all likelihood."
"So, there you go."
She looked at him incredulously. "And you don't think that warrants discussion?"
"It comes back to the consenting adults thing again, doesn't it?"
"Boyd, we've known each other for almost ten years…and this has never been an issue before."
"Really?" He raised his eyebrows in amusement and folded his arms. "You're telling me if the right situation had presented itself over the years we wouldn't have…?"
"Well, that's just the point, isn't it? We've had plenty of opportunity. For God's sake, we've virtually lived in each other's pockets for the better part of a decade!"
He shook his head. "I don't know what you want me to say, Grace."
"I want you to tell me why this happened now. Why in the most unlikely of circumstances you finally decided to express yourself."
"It's a two-way street. You've never exactly been very forthcoming yourself."
She sighed, acknowledging with an expression of chagrin the accuracy of his statement. "Maybe that's part of the problem. This…implicit expectation of where we each are emotionally."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Were we talking about emotion?"
Grace rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Not in so many words…."
"Right. We were talking about sex, weren't we, or am I missing something?"
She fixed him with an unwavering glare. "As mutually exclusive entities?"
"Or mutually conflicting."
"Oh, come on. I know damned well you don't believe that."
He gave a shuddering sigh, the bones of his chest vibrating against his shirt, and he looked at her for a long moment, feeling his defensive walls beginning to disintegrate as he took in the elegant lines of her face, the slender planes of her body, the almost tangible uncertainty battling against her tightly maintained composure. "Christ, Grace," he breathed eventually, running a hand roughly across his eyes. "The fact that we can't separate the two is what makes this so fucking…."
"Complicated?"
"Impossible," he countered softly.
She held his gaze, sadness rippling through her soul at the bereft insistence of his tone, and she tried in vain to swallow the ball of grief that had firmly gripped her throat. "While we work together, you mean?"
"Look, cards on the table, Grace: I think we both know if we could have screwed each other and walked away unscathed, we'd have done it years ago…."
"And to hell with the consequences?"
"Well, that's my point: there wouldn't have been any consequences. We could've maintained an appropriate professional relationship in the office and then fucked each other senseless behind closed doors."
She smiled wryly. "You've got such a way with words."
"I'm a copper."
Grace felt her smile widen at his rejoinder and then slowly begin to dwindle as a protracted silence once more descended. "So, what you're saying," she began again at length, "is that keeping each other at arm's length has been the only way to preserve our working relationship over the years."
He blew out a sharp breath. "Which has been thorny enough at times, hasn't it? Without adding anything else into the mix."
Grace held up a palm. "I'm not disagreeing with you, Boyd…and I'm not sure I'd have done anything differently, given the choice."
"No?"
"Our…dynamic, for want of a better word…."
He pulled a face. "Please."
"…has been vital in how we approach investigations. I wouldn't have wanted to jeopardise that either, given how many cases we've managed to solve."
"So we've almost had an unspoken agreement."
"Mm. And somehow we've ended up here."
He sighed heavily, surprising her as he closed the gap between them and returned back to his seated position at her side. "It means we've really only got two options," he said throatily, running his fingers thoughtfully along his jaw. "Sweep what happened under the carpet and carry on as we always have…."
"Or?"
He looked at her intently, holding her sapphire eyes captive with his own. "Or we grow some balls and stop pissing about."
"Which brings us back to the problem of boundaries, doesn't it?" she replied sadly, the intensity of his gaze threatening to overwhelm her. "You said it yourself, Boyd: we couldn't separate the personal from the professional, and vice versa."
"Fuck it," he intoned decisively, eliciting a small smile from his companion. "Maybe we should just take the risk. Something we probably should have done years ago."
She blinked, trying to steady the battering of her heart against her ribs as she absorbed the potency of his statement. "And if it doesn't work? I think we both know there wouldn't be a way back from that."
"So, what are you saying, Grace? That we should wait until we retire?" He laughed harshly. "They'll be carrying me out of here in a box. You know that better than anyone."
"I just…," she stumbled, her words fading into a heartfelt sigh and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them once more to appraise him steadily. "You've given so much of yourself to this Unit, Peter…."
"I have," he agreed tacitly with a slight nod. "What's your point?"
"My point is…." She broke off and gave a soft, rueful laugh. "I'm just trying to make sure we're not about to make a colossal mistake, that's all. On either front."
Boyd grunted. "There's only one way to find out, though, isn't there? Neither of us has a bloody crystal ball."
"I know."
"You're trying to cover this from every possible angle and it's…."
"Over-thinking things?"
"It's pointless." He blew out a disheartened breath. "For Christ's sake, you'd think we'd both have learned from that Linda fucking Cummings disaster."
"It's just…."
"Life's too fucking short, Grace. How about that for a dose of reality?"
Grace felt her vision suddenly clear, the fear and uncertainty clouding her senses dissolving as she took in the man before her, finally allowing her heart to explode with the love she had kept so ruthlessly locked away for almost a decade. Oh, my God, it's so simple. So utterly, utterly simple…. "Boyd," she murmured quietly, a shroud of tranquillity settling gently about her shoulders. "Let's go home."
He raised his eyebrows in question, the certitude in her tone increasing the furious pounding of the blood through his veins. "Yours or mine?" he asked evenly, relief awash in his chest at her brilliant responsive smile.
"Either suits me." She felt her smile broaden as she looked at him. "Is that it, then?"
"For talking?"
She rolled her eyes at the definite glint in his own. "I actually meant…."
"Oh, Grace, for God's sake, I know what you meant.
She gave him a crooked smile, her eyes twinkling at the exaggerated exasperation in his tone. "This talking at cross-purposes, Boyd..."
"Don't start. You get just as much of a kick out of it as I do."
"Well, to a point. But if we're going to do this then maybe we need to be a bit less circumspect and a bit more..."
"We need to stop talking, full stop. We should have damned well stopped talking years ago."
Her smile was radiant, the joy emanating from her soul impossible to suppress as he shifted towards her, his fingers tracing the length of her jaw as the pad of his thumb traced delicate circles across her cheek. She gave a soft gasp as he closed the final few inches between them, his mouth caressing hers gently before capturing it more firmly, the years of stringently repressed desire falling effortlessly away as his tongue slipped easily between her hungry lips. They were mutually breathless when they parted several intense moments later, each drawing ragged breaths against pounding hearts, and Grace closed her eyes to steady herself, her craving for him re-ignited as he kissed her tenderly once more.
"Go on," he insisted throatily, pressing one final kiss against her ready mouth. "Get your coat."
She gave a silken chuckle, allowing his gruff sentiment to alight in her consciousness with an incredulous sense of disbelief. "Your place, then?"
He grinned boyishly. "If I'm on a promise, Grace, I'll even willingly cross the river."
"Then and only then?"
"God, yeah. There has to be a line drawn somewhere."
"Hm." Grace narrowed her eyes in feigned irritation. "I think I might be starting to regret this already."
He gave a cavalier snort and rose in a single fluid motion, holding out his hand and pulling her roughly to her feet as her fingers clasped his without hesitation. "I wasn't exaggerating about the ten-year hard-on," he told her intensely, his arms snaking about her waist to draw her fiercely against his body. "Now, for Christ's sake…."
"You're such a teenager at heart, aren't you?"
"…go and get your bloody coat, will you?"
She smiled broadly, stretching up to kiss him long and languidly on the mouth, gratification filling her as she felt him groan deeply against her lips. "I won't be a minute," she affirmed huskily, twisting reluctantly away from his embrace and moving towards the office door.
"You've got thirty seconds," he called after her, following in her wake and plunging his office into darkness as he enthusiastically extinguished the light. "After that you can forget about the luxury of my king-size bed and we'll just…."
"Seriously," Grace interrupted mildly as she re-emerged from her own office, her svelte frame enrobed in raspberry wool. "I don't want to have to get into a discussion about instant-versus-delayed gratification."
He groaned wearily. "Ten years, Grace. That's fucking delayed enough by anybody's standards."
She laughed loudly, rapturously, slipping her arm through his as they began to move towards the bullpen's exit, her heart almost at bursting point as she projected her tentatively hopeful thoughts towards the flickering, expectant potential of their future.
FIN
