Well this is part 7 finished at long last. As I've written on Facebook, everything's great and I know what I want to write, but unfortunately it doesn't always come out that way. Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, they're all really nice and I thank you all for them. There is one swear word that I'm not sure about and if you don't think it fits I can always replace it.

Part 7

They lay looking at one another for a few moments longer and Brianna said slowly, "I should get up, that's if you would like to eat today."

He sighed and then nodded, "I suppose eating would be a good idea."

Brianna kissed him and then sat up. "Take your time," she half turned to touch his hand, "I'll be pottering around your dinky little kitchen."

"Be there in a second," James said quietly to her retreating back.

She was sitting at his kitchen table, sipping at a mug of tea when he entered. She looked up and smiled, "Want one?" she asked.

"Please."

She brought the mug across and then returned to her seat. "Penny for them?" he asked.

"I was wondering what to do next," she smiled, "I can stay until the end of the week, but then I must get back to work."

"So," he looked at her over the rim of his mug, "Where is this relationship going?"

"Where would you like it to go?"

He laughed, "Some women would say that you're very forward."

"And I'd say that unless you state your intentions and lay your cards on the table you've no hope of having a relationship." Brianna replied, "you can't read my mind and I'm damned if I can read yours. I would like this to develop into more than casual sex on the side, if you would."

"The question is," Hathaway remarked, "How do we do that?"

"I leave that up to you," she smiled, "What would you like to do first?"

"Have lunch," he smiled back, "and then we'll think of a plan of action."

"Oh joy," Brianna muttered darkly., "Go and sit down, James."

He was sitting half-heartedly watching the afternoon movie when she hobbled into the room, "I thought we might have roast chicken as you've got one looking pathetic at the back of the fridge."

James looked up at her and seeing his face Brianna dropped to a chair next to him, "What's the matter?" she asked softly.

"I think I'm going to have to tell you about my last case," he said slowly. "Remember I said that I fucked up?"

"I recall you mentioning something of the sort," Brianna remarked gently.

"And I gave a friend the wrong advice – about his sexuality-" he looked up at Brianna waiting for a response but she said, "Go on."

"Well he went to this group called The Garden who would cure him of his-"

"Homosexuality?" Brianna raised an eyebrow, "I've heard of groups like them. So, elucidate, what happened?"

"He committed suicide because of what The Garden told him, and then all the people who were involved in this organisation, The Garden, began to be murdered. I knew Will, had known him since my early days at Cambridge and I knew that I should not be involved, but somehow I just thought-"

"You thought that you could put it to one side and find out what drove him to kill himself?" Bree said quietly, laying a hand on his arm.

"Something like that." James smiled weakly back at her, "I wasn't smart enough when Inspector Lewis told me that I was off the case, instead of nodding and agreeing with him I said that I was fine and there was no conflict of interest."

"I'm assuming that there was," Brianna eyed him quietly.

"I knew Will, I knew everyone in The Garden, had been involved with them intimately and as for that woman, who was a psychopathic transsexual serial killer who felt that it was her duty to kill everyone who'd been involved with Will and The Garden and I chose to confide in her! What planet was I on?"

"I told you that night," Brianna replied gently, "We all make mistakes. Sometimes they're big ones which are the hardest to forgive ourselves for, sometimes they're little ones that can easily be brushed aside. The past is the past and we have to move on and somehow make peace with ourselves."

Hathaway took a deep breath and continued, "So I went to see Inspector Lewis and broke down in front of him. I was pretty much despairing at that point, we talked, or rather I sobbed my heart out and he plied me with chocolate biscuits and sweet tea," he paused and looked up into Brianna's face.

"Always a good combination."

"We talked about everything and then filled in the disciplinary form together. I helped write my own reprimand letter and took a week's suspension – that's how I met you. When I go back to work tomorrow I have to go and see the department shrink."

"And you still don't know what to say?"

"Oh I have a fair idea," Hathaway half-smiled, "But I was such a fool."

Brianna slipped from the chair and knelt at his feet, laying her hands on top of his she looked up into his face, "But that's the point, James." She said urgently, "Tell me, if there was another case in a month where you were long-time friends with the murder victim, what would you do?"

James smiled, "I'd tell Inspector Lewis that I couldn't proceed with the investigation as it constituted a conflict of interest."

"Then I don't think you have much to worry about," she remarked softly, "I think, that although this was a lesson you'd rather not have learnt, you have learnt it and won't repeat the same mistake, ever again."

Hathaway blinked back the sudden tears and bent to put his arms around her, "I'm glad I met you," he muttered into her shoulder.

"So am I, James." She replied, returning the hug. She knelt back on the floor and said, "Give me a couple of minutes to get up and I'll go and see how the chicken's doing."

She grasped her crutch and hobbled from the room leaving him sitting in front of the television. When he walked through to the kitchen she was sitting at the breakfast bar peeling carrots. She looked up when he walked through, "I forgot to ask, I hope you like carrots."

"Want me to peel the potatoes?"

"That'd be nice," Brianna smiled.

When the vegetables were on the stove she wrapped up the peelings in newspaper and dumped them in the bin. He was watching her cleaning the area and then he said, "Do you want me to open the wine?"

"Please," she turned to face him. "I did see the wine rack, but I didn't know which one to choose."

"I'll pick one," James replied, he bent down and pulled out a dark green bottle. Brianna smiled when he showed her the label, "Means nothing to me, James."

"You'll like this," he smiled, "a special wine for a special lady."

"Consumate flatterer," Brianna bent to kiss him and he lifted his hand to touch the side of her face.

"Oh absolutely," he murmured.

After dinner they sat replete in front of the television. Hathaway turned to her, "You're amazing," he said softly.

She turned to him raising a dark eyebrow, "You're joking."

"No," he shook his head, "I've never met anyone like you."

She laughed softly, "Well that's a given, James. There is no-one like me."

"I know that," he smiled, "I meant – well you know what I meant."

She bit her lip thoughtfully and looked at him, "I think so," she said quietly, "or at least I hope so."

Hathaway sighed, "Will you stay?"

"How long?"

"Forever," he smiled down at her, "I'm serious, Bree, I want more than just casual sex on the side."

"A committed relationship?" she looked up at him.

He swallowed, "I suppose you're thinking marriage."

She grinned, "No, a committed relationship. Us two, together and then see what happens."

He laughed softly again and bent to kiss her, "As I said, you're amazing."

"I know," she replied, grinning up at him. She gently linked her fingers with his, "I can only stay until the end of next week."

"You'll be able to watch me play?" he smiled, "I'd like that very much."

"I'll come and watch you play," she nodded, "and then you can put me back on the train to Wales."

He nodded, "But you'll come up and see me again?"

"Absolutely," Brianna promised. "Wild horses wouldn't keep me away."

Hathaway leant back against the couch and sighed, "So, a few days of domesticity and then back to our humdrum lives."

"I wouldn't call mine, humdrum," Brianna protested. "I have students to monitor, research to write, friends to see."

"And then what?"

"We can e-mail each other, talk to each other on Skype if you like, and I can come down every other weekend or so."

"We do have to decide what to do." Hathaway protested.

"Why?" she looked up at him puzzled, "I'm happy where I am, you're happy where you are, why change anything?"

He gently cupped her cheek with his left hand, "There are women I've dated who would be screaming the 'm' word by now," he said quietly, "or women demanding that I change my life to accommodate theirs."

"Don't see the point in that," she smiled at him, then her expression became serious, "Look, I know women that play the female card when they're in a relationship and it drives me nuts. We say that we want to be treated as equals – well the whole point of being treated as an equal is that you act equally. I don't ask you to change your life, you don't ask me to change mine."

"But there may come a day when you have to," he protested.

"True," she sighed, "and more than likely it will fall to me to change mine because that's the way it's done. But until that day, neither of us demands that. Besides we don't know where we going yet."

"So what are the ground rules?" he asked softly.

"Don't date anyone else," she responded quietly, "if you do find someone else that you prefer, have the good grace to tell me about it in person and not on the telephone. Don't demand that I move down here for you and don't expect me to drop everything because I'm sleeping with you."

"Sleeping?" he raised an eyebrow, "as I recall we've not done very much of that."

She snorted and then leant up to kiss his lips, "Ah, James," she whispered softly, "you're incorrigible."

He laughed softly, his lips warm against her ear, "Can I prove it?"

"Absolutely," she murmured.

Standing up, he waited while she eased herself up, grabbing onto her crutch for support. She looked up at him and he bent to kiss her, "You are naughty," she murmured.

"What else are Sundays for?" he queried, his blue eyes dark with promise, "except for a bit of decadence?"

He was right about not sleeping. Afterwards when they lay wrapped in each other's arms, the blue-grey of twilight seeping through the closed curtains he stroked the hair back from her face and kissed her softly, "I think I'm falling in love with you, Bree."

"Ah James," she murmured, taking his face in her hands, "I think I'm falling in love with you too." She chuckled, "and the sex is just out of this world."

He snorted and then winced, "I should warn you not to make me laugh."

She sighed softly and said, "You go back to work tomorrow."

"What will you do?" Hathaway asked.

"Go and speak with the other members of the Colloquium, we need to discuss the paper I presented. I've hardly spent any time with them you know. Plus Peter and I need to talk, I owe him honesty at least."

"Do you know how he'll take it?" Hathaway asked.

"No, and that worries me a bit," Brianna admitted, "I don't want to get into another Marcus Wareing situation."

Hathaway sighed softly, "No, I can see that. I could ask my Inspector to go with you, or I could if you like."

"You're not in the best position to defend me at the moment, James." Brianna replied.

"We'll think of something," James promised, kissing her forehead.