Now here's a really strange thing:

Brooklynn70's review for #19 Exits included the words 'Alive and Kicking' as did abeed's review for #20 The Right Call! But even before the #19 review, I'd already planned to use this Simple Minds song in #22!

Chapter 22

Alive and Kicking

Get off!" Harry objected, knocking his hand away.

"Just lookin' for a little light entertainment."

"Not in my car you don't. Keep your hands to yourself," she told him.

The opening bars of the Simple Minds track, Alive and Kicking filtered out from the car stereo speakers and Dempsey put his hand back to the dial to shield it from Harry's interference.

"Listen, they're playin' my song!"

"It was by special request," she said drily.

He grinned as he sang the first line. "You turn me on… what, to the big man upstairs?"

She relented and dropped her hand away from the radio. Yes, she had prayed, not to anyone in particular and not out loud but she had asked for some omnipotent being to think about giving Dempsey another chance. She had sat at his bedside wondering if she was being selfish. If it was his time to go then she was only holding him back for herself because she wanted him and she needed him.

"I think that might have been taking the Lord's name in vain," she answered with a smile as she pulled out of the hospital car park.

Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside?

Who's gonna save you?

Alive and Kicking,

Stay until your love is Alive and kicking.

Dempsey continued to sing, drumming his fingers lightly on the door ledge until it crept up on him how prophetic the lyrics were.

He fell silent.

'You'll take me home, where the magic's from, and I'll be with you…'

He snuck a peek at Harry and she glanced back, her expression neutral which to Dempsey said a lot. She didn't need to know why he was looking her way because she'd been listening to the song too.

As it drew to a close she told him, "The bed's yours by the way and I don't want any arguments. I've got a futon in the spare room now so I'm taking that."

He shook his head, refusing to even consider it. "Come on, Harry, I ain't takin' your bed, so way, no how. Just gimme the couch like always."

She signalled to turn left and was pleased to discover that Bastion Road was virtually cleared of ice and snow. The thaw was happening fast now.

"Seeing as I've been good enough to take you in, James, you'll be sleeping where I tell you to sleep and you'll like it," she said with alarming finality.

Dempsey plastered himself into a corner, one hand on the dashboard, the other clutching the back of his seat.

"Whoooa, easy Tiger! You want me in your bed so bad, I'm there!"

Harry smiled smugly. "Good. That's settled then. And if you should be cold all alone, I have an excellent plan to keep you warm during the night."

"Whatever it is, I betcha I got a better one," he answered, pre-empting her doubtless disparaging suggestion.

She pulled off at the lights. "Doubt it."

"I'm all ears, sweetcheeks."

"Sweetcheeks?" she mouthed, wincing.

He chuckled, feeling psyched up by the normality of the banter between them.

"Slumberlux," she continued, "three heat settings, extra foot warmth and the best bit is you can keep it on all night long."

Dempsey whistled long and low. "All night long, huh? An' there was me thinkin' that bed hadn't seen no heat in months, Makepeace."

Harry dropped her head and gave a little laugh of exasperation.

"What exactly is it that makes you think I'm lacking a bloody sex-life? Seriously Dempsey, I would dearly love to know. Just because I don't come into work with names, dates and position numbers you seem to think I'm some dried up old spinster."

"And you never heard of reverse psychology?"

"You're sick!"

"Hey, I ain't no perv. I'm not askin' for the gory details. Just interested to know the type of guy you'd give it up for is all."

They were half way home already. They'd made good time.

"What makes you think I have a type?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

She used to think so.

"I'd like to think I see people as individuals."

"What, like everyone?"

"Everyone," she confirmed.

"Okay, so let's say Toni had been flashin' those big green eyes in your direction, you'd of weighed up the pros and cons?"

The car slewed a foot or so to the left.

"Toni?"

He could tell she really hadn't got a clue.

"Yeah, Toooooniiii!" He said it slowly like he was spelling it out for her.

She looked quickly towards his grinning face.

"You mean Toni is a…"

"Go on, you can say it," he gestured to bring forth her deduction.

"She's gay?"

He chuckled at her amazement.

"Is she really?" It was a flabbergasted statement. "I had no idea! I thought you and she had history."

"Believe me, if she was straight, we would have."

Harry fell into silent contemplation, all the little signs and pointers filtering through her mind.

Of course, the most obvious clue had been handed to her on a plate only a couple of days ago – the fact that Toni had met Levant in a gay bar. Why hadn't it registered then? Probably because she was too personally involved. And she remembered a comment made by Levant as she lay tied up on the bedroom floor; something about it being easy getting to know Toni considering what they had in common and the heavy emphasis on 'Mrs' Richmond. She and Dempsey pretending to be a couple must have been all the more galling for Levant after he'd found that out. And hadn't she told Harry herself that she wasn't the marrying kind? She'd laughed, like it had been the funniest thing in the world. Maybe Harry should have got it then.

"You'd make a lousy detective, Makepeace," said Dempsey, breaking into her thoughts.

She had to agree with him. "Wouldn't I just."

"You started out with it in your head that she was my wife," he laughed, "and you've been wearin' blinkers ever since. Have to admit it was hard to get past the lipstick and high heels. Always figured the chicks that looked like her weren't the real deal – just a little curious, ya know?"

"I think that says more about your super-sized ego than it does about 'chicks that look like her'."

"For sure! If nothin' else, Ms Love-Ass taught me tolerance… it's what the guys in the department used to call her," he added quickly, seeing the disappointed look on Makepeace's face. "Probably still do, I mean, she does have a great ass."

"I couldn't possibly comment! Anything I say may be taken down and used as evidence against me."

He laughed benignly and didn't take it any further. "Jeez, I hope she's gonna be okay."

They'd visited the Intensive Care Unit before they'd left the hospital. Toni was still on the ventilator but at least it was no longer doing all the breathing for her and her prognosis was good. Her parents were flying in to the U.K this evening with the hope of taking her home with them as soon as she was fit enough to travel.

Harry had suggested he offer them his flat for a few days but Dempsey was reluctant. "Could be weeks!" he'd pointed out and Harry hadn't pushed it – she could imagine her patience being worn a little thin over this coming weekend as it was. But there was no way she could have seen him suffering his bored frustration in that hospital bed a moment longer. Maybe the idea of mothering Dempsey appealed on some weird, masochistic level.

Harry had been over to his flat to collect some things together after her visit the night before; just a bag of clothing and a handful of other bits and pieces he had requested.

She had stripped the bed too and put fresh linen on it. The old stuff she hadn't even considered laundering though, she had just got rid of the whole lot down the disposal chute. She knew he would never want to see it again and she found herself seriously wondering if he would want to keep living in that flat. If she were him, she couldn't go back but maybe he was made of sterner stuff.

Still, if he made the decision to find somewhere else, she'd probably manage to accommodate him for a few extra days. If she was honest she was looking forward to having him stay – but with reservations. That he would be terribly annoying she had no doubts but then again, he was funny and witty and he knew how to entertain her with his stories of life in New York and his out of kilter slant on the universe in general. But when it was time for him to go, would she miss his company or would it be a relief? Having him as a house guest would either break this silly spell he seemed to have over her or reinforce it which begged the question, was she going to make an awful fool of herself at some point over the next few days?

Looking out of the window, Dempsey absently whistled just four notes:

You turn me on

Harry bit softly into her bottom lip.

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