Author's Note: This last part is a bit of a marathon. Sorry, but I couldn't find a better way of breaking it up. Lotsa sex. Don't say you weren't warned...

Robbie drops the teaspoon. He stares at his hand, which is shaking.

'Oh, God,' he gasps.

James is on his feet immediately, rushing around the table to help Robbie up. Robbie gives him a frantic look.

'You don't have to,' he tells him. 'We could just mate. Don't have to go all the way. It's not like-'

'I want to,' James says, and is amazed how calm his voice sounds, even though his stomach is churning. He wants this, though, wants Robbie so badly it hurts. 'Do you?'

Robbie swallows, hard. 'Yes.'

James puts his arms around him, tenderly. 'We've got time this time,' he tells him. 'I'll make it good for you, I promise.'

'I know you will, lad,' Robbie says, and lets his head fall forward, onto James's shoulder with a sigh. He feels the alpha hormones flooding into his blood again. Robbie's scent has turned once more, telling him he's ready to mate and James's body is responding, pumping out the chemicals that will sustain them, that will prepare the way for the act that will change both their lives. He's glad now that they had time for a cup of tea and a bowl of cereal, not that it is a perfect meal, but they are going to need the energy. Robbie has rested, eaten and drunk. His exhausted body is ready to go again, this one last time, and James is determined to make it the best of his life.

In the bedroom they peel off the bathrobes they had both donned to keep warm while they waited, and kiss slowly, tongues dancing. James runs his hands over Robbie skin, rejoicing at finally being able to touch freely. He seeks out all the places that make his lover moan and gasp, the sensitive spots on his throat, his shoulder, his side, his belly, the inside of his thigh, the arch of his foot. Robbie's skin feels damp and feverish, tastes salty and sweet. James runs his tongue down shivering flesh, worming the tip into navel and nipple, blowing softly, leaving little wet trails of pleasure along the curves of Robbie's hips. He buries his nose in the bush of dark hair at the base of Robbie's cock, now threaded with silver. Down there, his boss smells of the sea. His cock is thick, though not so long as James's, and James loves his girth, circling it with his thumb and forefinger and moaning with delight at the measure. Later, another time, he hopes to coax that sturdy flesh into his own body, feel it fill him, but that is pleasure for the future. Tonight he can take his time, gorge himself. A fat pearl of pre-come oozes from the crown and James laps at it, making Robbie squirm and pant.

'I want you,' James tells him, nosing the hot, velvety skin. 'I want you so much.'

He takes the head into his mouth and gentles it on his tongue, letting saliva fill the space around it, using his lips to slide back the foreskin. There is a rich, musky flavour to it. He tickles at the sensitive underside, feeling the twitch.

'Oh, God, Oh, God, lad, that's too much,' Robbie pants, but James isn't having any of it.

'It's alright my darling, I've got you,' he coos, stroking Robbie's silky groin. He kisses and licks after that, but is careful not to apply too much heat, because Robbie has to come at the same time as him if the bond is to work.

His own cock is starting to throb painfully.

'Want you,' Robbie groans. 'Need you.' It's as if he knows.

James spreads the older man's legs gently. There's one last thing he wants to do before this chance is over. Turns out Robbie isn't as flexible as he had hoped, and he has to turn him onto his front to reach. On hands and knees, Robbie seems horribly vulnerable. It's not a position James ever wanted to see him in, strong, proud man that he is, but there is nothing else for it if he's to be bonded properly.

James takes time to slide his hands over Robbie's back, caressing the tired muscles, stroking his buttocks.

'You're so beautiful,' he tells him, kissing every vertebrae where it rises through the skin. Robbie's still a big, strong man, older though he is, and James revels in the way his muscles flex as he moves, as he arches his back and moans softly. He takes time to ghost fingertips over the backs of Robbie's thighs, then begins to kiss the flesh of his rump, presses his nose into the muscle, loving the roughness of the hair, the resistance of it. He bites lightly, and Robbie swears and jerks. Only then does he let himself have what he's been yearning for. This one last time, the only time he'll ever taste it, he presses apart Robbie's buttocks and slides his tongue against his dripping hole, tasting the juices that will likely never come again. And God, he tastes so good.

Robbie keens and presses back, wanting to be penetrated so badly, even if it's just with that clever tongue, and James is determined not to disappoint. He laps hungrily, then holds it as hard as he can and pushes it in. Robbie cries out and shudders. Inside he is silken and sulphurous, and it's so beyond good that James knows afterwards he won't ever be able to describe even to himself in words how good it is. He pushes and delves and tastes until his jaw is aching, and his neck has almost seized up, and then he can't take it anymore, and its clear neither can Robbie, because he's begging, literally begging, to be fucked.

There's nothing else for it. With Robbie on hands and knees, James positions himself behind and takes his own cock in hand to line himself up. Robbie's hole glistens with juice and saliva, open and pink and twitching to be filled. He presses his glans against it, and it gives instantly. Then there is the long, slow slide and he's there, Robbie's arse damp and sweaty against his loins, and it is good, so bloody good that it is beyond description.

'Oh God,' James moans. 'Oh, God, you're so good, you're so perfect!'

'Please,' Robbie whimpers, and it seems all he is capable of now.

This is it. James closes his eyes to steady himself for a moment, only to find it intensifies the sensation of heat and tightness around his cock.

'Oh, fuck!' he shouts, because he can't hold back any longer, and then he is pounding into Robbie's body, and Robbie is pushing back and shouting incoherently, and there is sweat and scent and flesh and fucking and he grabs Robbie's hips and folds himself down over his back and there it is, that swollen gland in that fine, strong neck, and he sinks his teeth in, and tastes metal and knows that he has drawn blood, but it doesn't matter because Robbie is coming, almost screaming with it, bucking under him, pushing back against his thrusts, the muscles inside him suckling at James's cock, rippling around him, and then he's coming too, biting hard and growling and being milked of every last drop by his lover's eager body and there is only one thought left in his head or his body and it is this:

Mine. Mine. MINE.

The phone. The phone is ringing.

He is up and fumbling for it before he is really awake.

'Hnuh?'

'James? James, what the hell is going on?'

Oh, God. Laura. He was supposed to ring her. He glances at the time on the bedside alarm clock. It says 11.26am. Shit. His eyes are bleary. Still has his lenses in. Bugger. A groan beside him. Robbie, naked, lying in his side with his back to him, pulls the pillow over his head.

'Whoever it is, tell them to bugger off,' he growls.

'Oh, God, Laura, I'm so sorry. We just – its – I don't even know where to start.'

'I've been worried sick. You were supposed to call.'

'I know, I know. We overslept.' That seems the best way to put it.

'Tell me something I don't know. I've been banging on the door and ringing for the last twenty minutes!'

'You're outside?'

'Where else would I be, given that I'm worried sick that my two favourite policemen could be lying dead inside?'

'Oh, lord, I'm so, so sorry.' He's pulling his pants on with one hand, which isn't easy. He aches all over. Everything hurts, even his finger joints, and he doesn't even know how that's possible.

'How is he,' she asks, switching deftly to what she really wants to know.

'Like a bear with a sore head,' he says. 'Robbie, Laura wants to know how you're feeling.'

'Like Ben Nevis fell on me,' he says, muffled under the pillow.

'I think the general consensus would amount to "rough",' he tells her, trying to balance on one leg and step into his jeans while holding the phone with the other. Balance not good today. He falls over with a thump.

'Shit, shit, shit.'

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, just – hang on a mo and I'll let you in.'

He rings off and scrambles the rest of the way into his jeans, then checks to make sure there is nothing really embarrassing in the room. Not that they used condoms. God, that was stupid. He didn't have any on him, though, and he seriously doubts whether Robbie would have anything like that, given his sexual history in recent years.

Robbie.

He's calling him Robbie.

Everything suddenly hits him in one go, and he has to stop and lean against the wall until his head stops spinning. Because its all overwhelming, and for a moment he thinks he's been dreaming, or this is some horrible mistake.

But there he is, the man in the bed, and there is a flash of pale back revealing that under the duvet, he really is as naked as he looks. They really did do it then.

'Robbie, sit up, Laura's here. She'll want to check you over.'

The Inspector rumbles a few choice expletives from under his pillow.

Then there is banging on the front door, and James has to go, he has to, even though every fibre is telling him to jump back into bed and wrap himself around that beautiful, beautiful man who is now his own.

Laura's mouth forms a thin line of displeasure.

'I'm so sorry,' he says again, knowing how pathetic he sounds.

'You overslept,' she nods, coolly. 'Hardly surprising. Is he in bed?'

'Yes.'

'You look like shit,' she observes.

'Thank you. That's pretty much how I feel.'

'Not a surprise either. I'd better take a look then, if I may?' She has her medical bag with her. He rang her for medical advice last night, so she will want to examine Robbie.

''Course.'

He finds himself prickling a bit at her proprietary air, but then he realises it's the protective instincts kicking in, and that's natural. He leads her to the bedroom.

Robbie flops over onto his back and sits up with a huff when they enter. It is brutally obvious that he is still naked and unwashed. He looks exceptionally ravished and weary. A flash of lust sails through James's system and makes him blush.

What is even more obvious than Robbie's debauched condition is the brown-red mark on his neck, still crusted with dried blood. James had not expected it to look so bad, or for it to be so glaringly there.

'Bloody hell!' Laura almost shouts, and then looks angrily from one of them to the other, clearly working out which one to dismember first.

'Don't start, love,' Robbie says. 'I wanted him to.'

One look at Laura tells James all he needs to know about her reaction. He didn't think until this moment how selfish they've been. He never considered how she might feel about their bonding, how hurt she would be. He knows she loves Robbie in her way. He should have been more sensitive, made some effort to prepare her. Now it is too late, and the shock is very clear in her face. One look at Robbie tells him the same story. But this is between the two of them to work out, he realises through his own shame and guilt.

'I'll, er, go and leave you to do your thing then,' he says, feeling like he has fourteen elbows and knees, and closes the door behind him.

He makes himself a coffee, and takes it out onto the back step with his fags to sit in the watery morning sun and try and calm down. His hands are shaking as he lights up. Its all gone to shit. He has messed up. Again. Just like he always does. Last night was the happiest night of his life, and now its all a disaster. He'll lose the two people he cares most about in the world because he couldn't control himself and think for a minute about the ramifications of his actions. This is exactly why he's never risked being a spontaneous person. Because he always, always messes things up.

He is well through his second fag when the back door opens and Laura emerges, looking pale and a little red-eyed. She looks him over sharply, and then, quite beyond expectation, asks:

'Got any of those left?'

He hands her the packet, and when she takes one out and puts it in her mouth, he lights it up for her, cupping his hands around the flame of his lighter. She takes a deep drag and blows a long stream of smoke into the air, then glances at him guiltily out of the corner of her eye.

'Oh, don't look like that! Even a pathologist needs to do something recklessly dangerous every now and then.'

'I didn't know you smoked.'

'I don't. I have one occasionally, when under severe stress. The last time – well, I don't need to tell you.'

No, she didn't; he remembered, even though he had tried not to.

'I'm sorry. We just didn't think about the wider picture of what we were doing,' he said.

'Of course not. You were under the influence of some very powerful psycho-stimulant hormones.' She takes another long, hard drag, and turns to him, her face deadly serious.

'The question is, is this really what you want? It all happened so suddenly that you've not had time to really consider what is being asked of you. If you don't want this, there is a way to break the bond. It isn't pleasant, I have to say. Its probably one of the nastiest treatments I have ever seen, but in about 75% of cases, it works. If you have any doubts, you should consider it. I know people. I could get the therapy expedited.'

'Did he say that's what he wants?' he says, cold fear seeping into his chest.

'No, but I'm asking you. Is that what you want?'

He doesn't have to stop and think. 'I want this, Laura. I want him. For life.'

'Right,' she says. 'Good. I'm glad about that.'

'Are you?'

'Of course I am! I want to see you both happy, and I'd rather not have to watch you go through a chemical separation if it can be at all avoided. I do care about you, you know.'

She takes his coffee from his hand and drinks some. They stare out at the garden, watch the dew dripping from the flowers, and the birds on the bird table.

'So, did you examine him? How is he?'

That's the question he has been most scared to ask, and the one to which he is most desperate to know the answer

'To make a long story short, exhausted, dehydrated and sore. I can't see anything worse than that, but I'll be happier once I've seen his ECG readings. You'll need to get him referred through his GP as soon as possible.'

'No permanent damage then?'

'Too early to say really, but I suspect not.' She turns to him. 'You know I am legally bound to report your bonding to the relevant authorities? Its my duty as a doctor.'

'Yes,' he nods. He has been waiting for that. Bonded couples have to be registered and regulated by law. It is ostensibly for the omegas' protection, but sometimes he wonders. 'What will happen?'

'Well, you'll get the requisite paid leave from work, of course. Time for him to make a full physical recovery, and probably for you to start house-hunting-'

'House hunting?'

'Well, you'll have to move in together. You aren't legally allowed to maintain separate residences once you've bonded, you know.'

'Yes, but I thought we could stay here.'

'Hardly. Believe me, its better to start on neutral ground. There will be enough territorial issues for you to solve without adding that one to the mix.'

He looks round the garden, sadly. 'But I like this flat.'

'You'll find somewhere just as nice, or better,' she says, and there is a note of kindness in her voice now. Maybe she's coming round.

'How are you,' he asks. 'I mean, really? This is all a bit-'

'Sudden, yes.' She finishes her cigarette and stubs it out on the step. 'Its funny. I always suspected about you two. You think you know how you are going to react in a given situation, and then when it happens, its not at all how you imagined it would feel.'

'No. I know what you mean.' And he really does. Last night being a case in point. He'd always imagined Robbie sweeping him off his feet, and in the end, it turned out to be the other way around.

'It's a shock, that's all,' she says, watching as a robin approaches the bird table, ruffling his feathers in an attempt to menace the other birds away. The blue tits seem decidedly unimpressed. 'I'll get used to it. And I really do want you both to be happy.'

'Thank you.'

She sighs. 'As far as Innocent is concerned, I've told Robbie I'll go over this afternoon and clue her in. No point in her having the shock first thing on a Monday morning if we can help it.

'She's going to go spare,' he says.

'Maybe. Maybe not. She knew about Robbie's status, apparently. That's something.'

'She'll have to split us up. We can't work together after this.'

'Perhaps. She's a resourceful woman and she likes her detection rates to stay high. And you two are her best weapons in that battle. Don't underestimate her.'

She puts her hands in her trouser pockets. 'Well, I think I had better get on.'

'You sure you're okay,' he says, getting up.

'I will be.' She offers him a weak smile. 'I'll have a couple of hours to myself to adjust and think things through, and then I'll go and see Jean. And no doubt we'll get drunk and have a good whinge about the whole thing.'

'You've been such a good friend,' he says, and gives her a tentative hug. 'Thank you so much.'

She rests her hand on his cheek for a moment as she looks up into his eyes.

'Just be happy, James. That's all. Both of you.'

'We'll do our best.'

When Robbie comes out of the shower, James is standing in the kitchen, barefoot and bewildered. Somehow he has managed to get stuck between the fridge and the oven, stuck between getting out the eggs and bacon and cooking them, stuck between the past and the future. His brain feels frazzled. He can't seem to focus on anything.

'You okay?' Robbie pulls his blue bathrobe around his shoulders and pads in. His hair is wet, clinging to his scalp, his cheeks flushed a flattering pink. He smells moist and fragrant.

'Just-' And then James stops because he doesn't know what else to say.

'All a bit of a shock, isn't it,' Robbie says, and puts the kettle on. 'Why don't I make us a cuppa and you sit down.'

The alpha in James rears up. 'No, I should be doing that.'

'Don't be daft, lad. I'm perfectly capable.'

'But you are tired. I should be looking after you.'

'Sit down and be told.' Robbie uses his 'Inspector' tone of voice, and James's body instantly obeys. Like Pavlov's dog, he sits down at the kitchen table to await further instructions. Robbie silently shifts around the kitchen, his big, capable hands juggling mugs and tea bags and spoons. He has his familiar, reliable air back. There is something solid and steady about this man, James thinks. It is one of the things he has always loved about him, the sense of his being up to every situation. He realises that the occasions when he feels most distressed himself are always the ones where Robbie seems out of his depth. The times when their dynamic has got away from him, the times when they have fought, have always been times when Robbie has been at sea too. James realises now how much he relies on everything being okay if Robbie is okay. Which is undoubtedly why last night went the way it did - because Robbie was in trouble, and James didn't know how to handle it. Laura gave him the Golden Ticket there, really. How could she know she was handing him his future?

Tea made, Robbie puts the mugs on the table and sits down opposite his bagman.

'Did she offer you the cure,' he says, simply. Typical Robbie, going straight for the jugular.

'Yes.'

'What did you say?'

'I said I'd take it if it was what you wanted. It's not what I want.'

Robbie rotates his mug so that the handle is to his hand, and sips.

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'Right.' Robbie sighs. 'Look, I know it all happened a bit fast, and if you need time, I'll-'

'It wasn't fast for me. It was seven years. I've wanted you for so long, you've no idea. Right from the start. And maybe we didn't have time to think through the practicalities, but whatever happens, I don't regret anything. Not one bit. Except maybe hurting Laura.'

'Yeah, that could ha' gone better,' Robbie agrees.

They both gaze into their mugs as if expecting to find the key to the future.

'I love you, y'know,' Robbie says after a while. 'Didn't expect for this to happen. Didn't expect to get this lucky twice in one lifetime, but since it has happened, I'm not looking the gift horse in the mouth.'

'Twice?' James stares at him in shock.

'You heard,' Robbie grins.

Suddenly, Robbie's words condense inside James's heart into an undeniable need.

'I think I need to take you to bed again right now,' he breathes.

Robbie grins. 'Careful, love, I can barely sit down as it is!'

'I have ways and means,' James says, standing up. 'I'm fiendishly clever in bed, you know,'

'So I'm finding out,' Robbie says, standing up too, only rather stiffly. 'The arse is out of bounds for a while, lad,' he adds, pressing his hand to the small of his back.

James prowls around the table and pulls him into his arms. 'How about I just kiss you all over for the next few hours?'

'Well, it's a tough job, but someone's got to do it,' Robbie whispers.

The End