Well, part 5 is finally up. Sometimes I think that this story is sent to try me. Hope you all like it.

Part 5

"I don't think I'll need much sitting on him to keep him quiet," Brianna replied.

"Go on, Inspector, we'll be fine."

Hathaway was underneath the covers when Brianna re-entered the room, she was carrying a glass of water in one hand and a strip of pills in her mouth, "Painkillers," she said handing the strip to him, "I imagine that trip up the stairs didn't do much for your side or your leg." She eased herself down on the bed and smiled at him.

Reluctantly Hathaway held his hand out. She squeezed two white pills from the strip and then handed him the glass of water, "That should take the edge off, they're pretty strong so you may even doze off."

"Hmmph," Hathaway replied and took the pills.

She was right about the strength of the painkillers, despite his protestations that he would be fine, he was asleep within forty minutes. Brianna came in to look at him when she was sure he was unconscious. Knowing he would never let her this close when awake she gently pulled the duvet back and hissed through her teeth when she saw the bruising.

Eventually she collapsed exhausted next to Hathaway. She wouldn't normally have got into bed with him, but the sofa looked bloody uncomfortable and it wasn't as if she was going to jump his bones. Even if you want to, Bree her treacherous mind told her.

Someone was moaning, she fought her way up through layers of sleep to find Hathaway writhing next to her, "Zoë, Zoë – no, no don't want to die." He moaned, his forehead twisting in pain.

Brianna gently pulled him towards her, and patted his face, "James, James, it's all right. It's a nightmare, it's a nightmare."

It seemed to take forever for him to awaken but suddenly his arms were around her and his face was buried in her shoulder. She stroked his head and back and realised he was crying, great gulping sobs that seemed to be wrenched from his soul. She rocked him gently, letting him cry, holding him while his heart broke.

Finally she moved her hands so that they were cupping his face, "Better?" she said softly into the darkness.

"I-I think so," he said, "where did you spring from?"

"I thought I'd curl up next to you," she said quietly, "Didn't fancy your sofa much."

"You know I've let everyone down, don't you?" Hathaway said slowly. "I fucked up this investigation and it's a miracle I haven't lost my job."

"Since I don't know what happened I can't judge," Brianna said gently, "can you tell me about it, or would you rather not?"

"Turn over," he said gruffly and a little concerned Brianna did as he asked, he snuggled up to her and put an arm around her waist drawing her close.

"I was training for the priesthood," he began, "and a good friend came to see me and I gave him the wrong advice." He paused, "how can you fuck up twice?" He started to cry again.

She turned in his arms and took his face in her hands, "Ah, James, don't cry. Yes, you say you screwed up and you likely did, but you can't go back and undo that, you're a scholar, think of Omar Khayyam, 'The moving finger writes and having writ moves on: Nor all thy piety nor wit, shall move it back to cancel half a line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.' I wish you could go back if it would ease your grief. All you can do is learn to live with it, and that's the hardest part."

"Are you sure you studied Theology?" he queried suddenly, "sounds like Philosophy to me."

"Don't you know your Boethius?" she responded.

"Not really," he pulled her closer and laid his forehead on her shoulder, "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm glad you did, James." Brianna replied, "go to sleep. I'll keep the demons at bay."

"Hah," he snorted, but there was a hint of a sob in it, Brianna stroked his head and murmured softly to him until his breathing settled and he finally fell asleep. Eventually, her arms wrapped around his torso she too drifted into slumber.

Hathaway woke slowly. He was half-curled under the duvet. He stretched slowly and winced as his side pained him. Slowly he rolled onto his back, there was a glass of water, a strip of pills and a note on the bedside table. He read the note slowly, 'If you're still in pain I recommend one of these. Two knocked you out. Bree.'

He smiled and then slowly took one of the pills and the glass of water. Then he dressed carefully. She looked up when he entered the kitchen, "Good morning," she said softly, and then looked at her watch, "Well, that should be good afternoon really. How are you feeling?"

"If you must know, washed out," he said easing himself onto one of the stools. "And a bit sore."

"Tea?" she asked.

He nodded and watched while she poured. "What do you suggest we do?" he asked.

"I'm going to rustle us up an omelette," Brianna said, "What would you like?"

"Surprise me," he responded, suddenly captivated.

Brianna chuckled, "Surprise you? You may not like my surprises, Sergeant"

"I'll chance it," he replied, "And the name's James."

"I'm not sure I should be so familiar," she replied slowly.

"You didn't seem concerned about being familiar last night," he said slowly.

Brianna blushed, "Last night was different." She swallowed, "So, omelette and bread and butter and you want me to surprise you."

An hour later they leant back on the sofa, replete. James sighed softly and put his arm around her, "I didn't think I'd enjoy that as much as I did. What do we do now?"

She looked up at him, "What do you want to do," then she laid a finger on his lips, "I can see by your eyes what you want to do, but I'm not sure you're capable yet."

He shifted position and winced, "You're probably right, so what else do you suggest."

"We could sit here and talk," Brianna replied, "What do you want to know?"

James yawned, "Tell me about the Rosary. I was surprised to hear you saying it – I didn't think Anglicans used the Rosary."

"They do," Brianna leant back against his arm, "but it isn't usually the 5-decade Dominican one. I was given mine at University – well the kit anyway. I made it."

"Hmm," James sighed softly. Brianna looked down at him, he was asleep again.

Sighing she leant her head against his own and almost without knowing it she too drifted into slumber.

When Lewis entered the flat an hour later it was to find them both fast asleep on the settee. He surveyed them quietly, Hathaway's face was relaxed and the most peaceful he'd seen it for a long time.

Brianna stirred and opened her eyes, she was about to open her mouth when Lewis shook his head. Carefully she slipped out from under Hathaway's arm and Lewis offered her his hand. Gratefully she pulled herself to her feet and he handed her the crutch.