Harry was standing in the reception area, staring out of the front entrance at the taxis pulling up to take guests home, and wondering what to do about Dempsey's disappearing act, when finally he emerged through the darkness, strolling down the driveway towards her.

Exiting the building, she approached him.

"Where on earth have you been?" she asked with annoyance. "I've found the discs but I was about to go home."

Then, as she scanned his face, which looked decidedly and worryingly sheepish, she noticed his black eye.

"Dempsey, what the hell have you been up to?" she reprimanded him.

"Err," he ran a hand through his hair and glanced nervously around himself. "You got the discs, great," he said, changing the subject. "Let's get in a cab. We can watch them at the guest house; Mrs Bennett has a player and TV," he said, grabbing her by the arm and urging her towards one of the taxis.

She resisted. "Wait, what have you done, Dempsey? And where is your car?"

He glanced briefly back at her but seemed more concerned with getting the attention of a taxi driver.

"Let's go. I'll tell ya on the way," he replied.

During the ride however, which only took five minutes or so, Dempsey seemed reluctant to say anything within earshot of the driver, and so Harry waited until they were inside the guest house to broach the subject again.

Dempsey immediately led Harry into Mrs Bennett's lounge where all was dark and quiet, apart from the ticking of the mantelpiece clock. He went straight to the television and turned it on at the wall, along with the DVD player. After lowering the volume of the television with a remote control that had been resting on top of the DVD player, he turned to Harry to ask for the discs.

She was staring at him; her expression firm and stern.

"Are you going to tell me what you've done?" she asked.

He didn't like that tone. It made him feel like he was back at school and had been caught smoking in the restrooms. But on second thoughts, he dreaded Harry's reactions to his misdemeanors far more than he had ever dreaded the school Principal's.

"C'mon Harry, we gotta look at those discs," he appealed.

She stood her ground. "No, not until you have told me what has happened."

He sighed, thought for a moment and then moved towards the sofa, taking a seat. "Maybe we should sit for this one."

She watched him suspiciously for a few seconds before joining him.

"I kindda got somethin' wrong," he said, turning towards her, his hands attempting to explain with gestures of appeal. The room fell silent again as he tried to think of how to explain.

"What, Dempsey? What did you get wrong?" she asked.

"Well, err, it's like this… I kindda thought that… that… that Richie was… err… Mafia," he quickly finished, his eyes lowering to the black and white floral carpet. "But before ya go nuts on me," he went on, raising his head again, "I had good reason."

He risked a glance across at her. She was deadly still, staring disconcertingly at him. He waited for her to say something but she remained silent, unnerving him even more.

He went on. "There was this woman, Bella Jackson. The Borellis sent her to me with threats before I decided on comin' back here. Anyway, she turned up at the Club tonight, and Eddie said she was there earlier today too."

More silence.

"And?" she prompted.

He sighed again. "Look, Eddie said she'd been telling people that she was… err," he ran a hand through his hair again awkwardly, "that she was Richie's girl from New York."

His eyes flicked to hers, waiting for a reaction. Her expression never changed, she simply tilted her head slightly and continued staring at him.

"Look, what was I supposed to think? Anyway, turns out she's not. She was just tryin' to get into the Club to find out some info. Dunno what. She heard Richie speakin' and spoke to the staff under the guise of bein' his girl."

Harry nodded. "So, what did you do to Richie?" she asked, deliberately slowly, her eyes never leaving him.

"I didn't do nothin'," he answered.

She rose a disbelieving eyebrow.

"I'm tellin' you Harry, I never touched the guy."

"Oh, so I suppose you just had a friendly chat about this then, did you?" she said sarcastically.

He groaned. "I hadda find out where Tony Borelli was," he appealed. "Now they know about the club and me bein' here an' all, it aint safe for you now neither."

"What did you do to him?" she repeated.

He growled. "I just threatened him, that's all. Then when I realized, I untied him…"

"Untied?" she questioned.

"Yeah, and then he threw a punch at me, stole my car keys and took off."

"You can hardly blame him Dempsey; I've seen your methods of interrogation before remember," she came back.

"Yeah. Yeah. You wanna get this over with an' take a swing for the other eye now?" he asked, pointing to his face and trying not to smile at the same time.

She didn't look amused. "No Dempsey; I wouldn't lower myself to your levels. As it happens, I have spoken to Bella Jackson already, which you would have known if you hadn't gone off on your own rampage without me." Her tone told him that she was slowly working herself up to a simmering rage. "What did I say to you about us sharing everything?"

He grinned and couldn't resist slipping in, "I wanna share everything with you Harry, but you won't let me."

"That's not even funny," she snapped back, pointing a finger at him. "You know what I mean. We agreed that you would let me in on everything you know. You promised that you wouldn't go off on one of your vendettas on your own. I'm involved in this now you know; the things that you do have consequences for me too. Did you ever think of that, eh Dempsey?"

"Yeah I thought of that!" he replied defensively, a little louder than he had intended. He glanced towards the door, and then continued in a whisper, "What was I gonna do, eh? Come tell ya that the guy you're supposedly in love with is Mafia? Oh, and that, by the way, he's also cheatin' on ya."

"If that were the case, don't you think I would have wanted to know?" she replied.

"Look," he glanced to the door and back again, leaning closer to her to whisper, "I needed to find Tony. You don't know what the Borellis are capable of. It aint safe for you. I saw the opportunity to end this an' I took it. You bein' Richie's girl confused things. If it hadn't been that way, I wudda come to you," he assured her.

"Hmm." She wasn't entirely convinced, and she wasn't going to let him off that easily either. From now on, she was going to take things into her own hands if she couldn't rely on him to act rationally.

"Anyway, whatd'ya get outta Jackson?" he asked.

"Not much," she replied.

"Whatd'ya mean, 'not much'? She's key to this ya know," he came back.

"Dempsey, she wouldn't talk, and I am not going to get myself arrested for this; I have a life to live too you know. I don't resort to your tactics. I got her registration; that was as much as I could do," she told him.

The beginnings of a smile could be seen on Dempsey's face. At least she didn't seem too furious at him for what he'd done to Richie. But now he was intrigued as to Harry's persuasive techniques when it came to Bella.

"Whatd'ya do to try get information outta her?" he asked.

She tutted. "What does it matter?"

The smile then emerged. "What d'ya do?" he repeated.

She sighed. "She hadn't eaten all day. She was hungry. She wanted some gateaux," she said, stopping when she felt a giggle rising in her at the ridiculousness of the situation.

He grinned. "Gateaux," he taunted, "And?"

"Oh for goodness sake, she nearly cracked. I ate it in front of her," she admitted.

Dempsey burst out laughing. "Undercover detective threatens London with gateaux!" he exclaimed, barely getting out the words in between laughter. "They'll have to close all the bakeries now Sergeant, all the patisseries… no more tea rooms! You'll bring London to its knees!"

"Shut up you idiot! Are we going to watch these discs or not?" she came back.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

They spent the next tense half an hour or so searching through the discs to find the period after Dempsey had first arrived at the Club.

"Wait, that's it! That's Tony!" Dempsey exclaimed, "Rewind that last part. Keep going, okay, stop there."

They played the disc and watched as a huge, tattooed, bald headed man emerged from around a hedge, dragging Roberto's dead body with him. After struggling to move the body across the driveway and maneuver it into Dempsey's car, the man took one last look around before sprinting across the gravel and disappearing once more.

"So, it was the Borellis then," Harry commented, stopping the disc and standing to remove it from Mrs Bennett's DVD player.

"That don't prove nothin'," Dempsey replied. "Only that Tony moved the body. I'm tellin' ya Harry, if it weren't done at point-blank range, it weren't a Borelli who did it. Besides, he wouldn't kill his own brother."

"Really?" She rose a disbelieving eyebrow. "But they tried to kill Danny."

"That was different," he replied. "Roberto was one of their mob; he was key to everythin'."

She sighed. "Well, wherever Roberto was murdered, it wasn't far from there. There has to be some clues near here somewhere."

"Yeah, an' we gotta find them…fast," Dempsey added.

"Well, not tonight. I'm going home; I haven't had a proper night's sleep since you reinvaded my life," she yawned, reaching for her bag to leave.

Dempsey stood with her. "I'll walk you back."

She stopped and turned at the lounge door. "Why? There's no need," she shrugged.

"Are you kiddin'?" he replied, "What'd'I tell ya? It ain't safe."

She moved into the entrance hall and headed for the front door, opening it, but pausing on the threshold.

"Dempsey, I'm a trained detective sergeant; I can handle anyone between here and home," she assured him.

Dempsey followed her out of the house however, closing the door behind him. "Aint noone can handle these guys we're dealin' with darlin', not on their own. I aint leavin' you alone out here, an' that's final."

She tutted, and began walking. "Quite honestly Dempsey, I'm too tired to argue right now."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Oh wonderful," Harry exclaimed, as only a few minutes into the walk back to her house she began to feel spots of rain on her bare arms. She quickened her pace, although it wasn't easy considering the high heeled shoes she was wearing, and the fact the they only had the verge of the road to walk on. Beside them were the dark stretches of farmland behind the hedge which ran the length of the country road. The rain became quickly heavier, and the wind began to chill her to the bone as her evening dress became slowly damp.

"Great British weather we're havin'," Dempsey commented.

"It was fine until you came back," she replied. "We were in the middle of a lovely sunny spell."

The sound of the rain hitting the road then suddenly became considerably louder, increasing gradually until it reached a roar of raindrops pelting down around them. Harry stopped walking then, her breath suddenly taken away by the fierce icy downpour that was drenching them.

Despite her earlier annoyance, at that point, with the rain taking away all of her composure, she couldn't help but laugh at the intensity of the downpour. "This isn't how I imagined ending tonight Dempsey," she shouted over the noise.

"No?" he shouted back, watching as she attempted to brush the sodden hair from her face. "How d'ya imagine it?" He rose a suggestive eyebrow.

She yelped then as a stream of water trickled down her back. "A lot dryer than this, that's for certain. Think there's a shelter over there," she said, pointing across the road to an opening in the hedge which revealed some sort of basic corrugated metal construction. "Come on."

They both ran, laughing at the ferocity of the rain, until they reached the opposite side of the road, where Harry was forced to tread more carefully across the muddy entrance to the field for fear of slipping over. Finally they made it to the shelter, still laughing and shivering and shaking the rain from themselves.

"I have to hand it to you Dempsey," Harry chuckled, "Things certainly aren't boring with you around."

"Too right," he grinned back.

At the rear of the shelter Harry noticed a concrete slab and moved towards it, only to find that her shoe had sunk into the mud, causing her to stumble. Dempsey grabbed hold of her arm to steady her.

"I'm sinking here," she laughed, using his support to leave her shoe in the mud in order to jump across to the more stable ground that the concrete afforded.

"You okay?" he asked, joining her.

"Yes, but," she crouched down then, reaching across the gap for her deserted shoe.

He crouched with her, but ventured one foot back onto the mud to reach the shoe before she could.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her, "Think you're gonna need this."

"Thanks," she smiled, taking his offering.

They paused for a moment then, both still crouching beside each other. He ran his eyes over her face, shining from the sheen of rainwater; they moved then, hovering briefly on the v in the bodice of her dress as she leant forward, before moving to the length of thigh that was exposed from the slit of her evening gown. She became aware of his scrutiny and for some reason suddenly felt self-conscious. Again she tried to smooth the wayward tendrils of hair back from her face as she stood.

"This isn't my best look," she laughed.

He rose with her, placing a hand in his pocket as he continued to watch her, his eyes sparkling in the darkness.

"You look great to me Harry," he smiled.

She gave a small laugh.

"Here," he said suddenly, unbuttoning his tuxedo jacket, "you gotta be cold." He shrugged it off and moved behind her to place it around her shoulders.

"Such a gentleman Dempsey," she teased. "Thank you."

"No problem," he replied, observing the way her hair had begun to curl with the rain water. There was something he liked about this disheveled, natural sight of Harry.

From behind her, he moved then decisively to wrap his arms around her body, holding her to him around her middle.

She glanced back at him dubiously.

"I'm kinda cold myself now Harry," he said. "it's survival techniques."

"Oh really," she answered.

"Sure," he came back.

"Brrr," he shivered, tightening his hold on her.

She rolled her eyes but a smile developed across her face.

They stood like that for a few moments, looking out across the dark deserted field.

"Ya know, I never really saw much of the country when I was livin' here," Dempsey said. "I kinda like it. Makes a change from New York anyway."

"I bet," she replied.

"It's peaceful," he observed.

She sighed, deep down touched that he liked her beloved countryside, but wary as always of the future. "Dempsey, it might be peaceful now but… aren't you afraid, about the body you buried and the consequences of that? Because I am. I'm afraid for you," she admitted.

He laughed softly. "Nah, I've been through worse. I aint doin' so bad right now, not bad at all," he replied, resting his head against hers.

She didn't know whether to give in and believe him, or be doubly worried about his lack of concern.

"The rain has died down now, we should go," she said, pulling slowly away from him.

He let her go reluctantly.

She moved forward then but paused at the edge of the concrete, her foot hovering above the mud as it tried to figure out the best way forward.

Then, before she knew what was happening, she felt an arm clamp around her waist, and her legs lift off the floor as Dempsey swept her up off the ground, his other arm under her knees.

She gave a small shout in shock and grabbed onto his neck for support. "This really isn't necessary," she laughed.

"What, are you kiddin'? Can't have my princess covered in mud," he smiled, wading out into the field again.

They made it back to the road without incident, and he lowered her to the ground gently.

She smiled coyly at him. "Thank you."

It was a good ten minutes later when they reached Harry's house, by which time both of them were frozen to the bone.

She turned to him at her door and was about to say goodnight, when the vision of his soaking face and shirt made her hesitate. She felt torn between what she knew to be appropriate, and how she felt about sending Dempsey back out into the cold night again.

"Err," she scratched her head. "Would you like a hot drink before you go back?" she offered.

"Well, I am kinda cold," he admitted.