I've been trying to post this for days but the site seems to hate me, so apologies for the delay. At least it has given me time to work on the next few chapters.

Title: Clarity and Salvation

Pairing: Grace/Boyd

Rating: PG, at least for now

Spoilers: Nothing specific but up to and including Yahrzeit

Summary: So have you formed any assumptions?

Feedback: The characters herein aren't mine. I just play and put them back when I'm done.

Chapter Four

Boyd ran his fingers through his hair and padded through his apartment towards the kitchen. He wasn't at his best first thing in the morning, his brain not yet engaged and his need for caffeine almost overwhelming. It wasn't until he wandered into the kitchen that he remembered his house guest and his state of undress. He came to an abrupt halt at the sight before him. "Grace."

"Morning Boyd." She turned to acknowledge him and felt the all too familiar feelings surface again. She allowed her eyes to roam his semi-naked body settling on his bare chest, the reality of what she frequently daydreamed about making her blush. What she saw made what should have been an awful morning all that much better.

"Something you like?" he teased, masking his own awkwardness as he picked up the kettle and shook it.

She flushed even redder and turned back to the hob. "It's just come to the boil." And she wasn't just talking about the kettle. "I thought I'd make you breakfast."

"You didn't have to do that." He busied himself making a mug of tea, strangely settled by the familiarity of the situation.

"The least I could do under the circumstances." She continued to scramble eggs, her back to him. "Do you actually eat here?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled a face. "Yeah, cause I'm home so much. Did you sleep ok?"

"Not really." It had nothing to do with the violation of her home, but more to do with being in his apartment, stepping over the fine line that they danced between friends and colleagues and something more. Piling the eggs onto toast, she turned to hand him a plate.

"You should have woken me." He took the offered plate and settled himself at the table.

"And you would have done what exactly?" Grace asked, amused by the role reversal.

Boyd shrugged. "Maybe nothing but at least you would have had company. What?" he asked as she pulled a face. "Too touchy feely for you?"

"You can't fix everything, Peter."

"Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me. This is really good." He continued to eat breakfast like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"You need to eat decent food more than once in a while. And I don't mean pie and chips from the local take away."

"You need to stop mothering me."

"I really don't know what else to do with you," she admitted, half truthfully.

Boyd suppressed a grin as a dozen things he'd rather like her to do crossed his mind. "I need to take a shower," he commented for want of anything more insightful to say.

"And? Need me to wash your back?" she asked, her tone light and teasing as the awkwardness began to slip away. "I was kidding. Ok? The bathroom's all yours."

"I'll be ten minutes," he stated, rising to his feet and starting to move away.

"I should expect to leave in about fifteen then?"

He gave her a look, attempting to show displeasure. It had no effect. "You could save me some time and iron a shirt."

Grace scanned the vicinity for something to throw at him.

"I was kidding," Boyd said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I have a couple of clean ones left."

"Boyd! Then we'll head over to the house!" Grace said, beginning to clear away the breakfast things.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, half away to the bathroom.

She nodded resolutely. "It's my home."

"But . . ." He briefly saw the pain in her eyes before she hid it. "Ok, fifteen minutes."

-------------------

Grace unlocked the front door and hesitantly stepped into her house. The devastation she had felt the night before was ten times worse in the cold light of day especially with the tell tale signs of the team at work.

"You don't have to do this," Spence whispered, his hand lightly resting on her back.

"You need to know if anything's missing."

"That can wait."

She looked at him unconvinced. Turning until she could face them all, feeling less overwhelmed with the house behind her, she glanced at each of her friends in turn. "I'm fine. I don't need to be fussed over. I don't need to be handled, ok? We're going to go in there and do our jobs. I am not going to break. Ok, everyone?"

They all stared back at her.

"Ok?"

Three voices mumbled yes in unison and she nodded satisfied before leading them into her house. Stepping over the threshold and making her way down the corridor she realized she'd underestimated how much being in the house again would effect her but she had witnessed worse, they all had and she couldn't let them see how distressed she was getting.

"Why don't Grace and I start upstairs?" Stella suggested, glancing at Grace and seeing how hard she was struggling to control herself. "The last thing she needs is you two trampling through her bedroom."

"Many women would pay good money for that," Spence offered, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, but I know you," Grace threw back lightly.

"Is there anything we can do?"

She looked around the kitchen and sighed. "Make some coffee. This is going to take a while."