By special request, the dress!

"I'm so sorry," he said, standing by the window of their living area watching his soon to be departed wife throw things in a suitcase. She paused, kicked off her heels and paused at simmering point; a fireball of fury.

"For what? For throttling that disgusting letch?" Harry demanded. "Can you unzip me? I want this thing off of me."

"This is my fault, my profession…" he cast about looking for answers and caught her hands, fiddling with the zip and growled out, "No, leave it on."

"But, it's his dress," she protested and he drew his eyes down her body, along the lines of the off-shoulder, sheath of pale grey silk that spoke of bridal innocent and promised wicked things.

"You earned it," he said, catching her by the waist, "It'll be ours when I'm through."

She quivered under his touch and seemed to calm down as he'd longed for in trying to salvage what they could from the day.

"Dempsey, no, I'm the one who hired you and brought you here under false pretences. I've probably ruined your reputation," she sighed into his chest.

"My reputation?" Dempsey managed a bitter laugh. "Harry, that's all over along with the job."

Harry looked puzzled and he was about to explain when there was a knock on the door. Wearily, expecting it to be someone asking them to leave, he opened the door, wiling to comply and get the hell back to somewhere. His bed or hers.

"I thought you be in the ballroom for the first dance?" Angela breezed in and then saw her friend's mutinous expression. "Oooookay what happened?"

Harry told her leaving no detail out.

"I'll kill him myself," Angela rallied and gathered up her bag.

Dempsey moved to the door holding out his hands in a placatory gesture, "As much as I appreciate the fight mob, it doesn't matter."

"The hell it doesn't," Angela glared at him and he shook his head.

"It doesn't," he repeated, as Harry caught his tone and looked bemused. "Harry, I quit."

"You did what?"

"I left days ago when I rang Chas after Arlington wanted us to stay on."

"I don't understand," Harry sat down, the fight leaving her.

"I need you, Harry," he said quietly knowing more than ever that it was for the long haul if she'd have him. "You remember when I said this was personal, you getting the grant, I meant it. I can't be an escort anymore with you out there. I think I knew that then, and I know it now."

Angela who broke the loaded silence. "I'm going to leave you both to talk but if you get an annulment I'm coming after you both."

"She's terrifying," Dempsey said, joining Harry on the couch.

"You get used to it," Harry sighed and turned to face him, "What will you do for money?"

"I'll think of something, maybe give my old boss a call at SI10. I'm more worried about you. You wanted that grant and because of me …"

"… because of Arlington who proved that I needed you to keep me safe." Harry sighed. "I've no idea what do after I told him to shove it."

There was a knock at the door, "I'll tell Angela to leave us be," she said and swung it open to find Arlington looking oddly at them both.

Dempsey rose to his feet but was halted by Arlington's words.

"If you want to hit me, I know I have it coming," their host said.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, her hands on her hips.

"I came to apologise." Arlington rubbed his hands over his face. "I got it wrong."

"Which part?" Dempsey asked, back at boiling point.

Arlington took a breath, "all of it. I didn't realise how.. she's a force of nature, y'know."

"Angela, she's only just left."

"No, Thelma."

Dempsey was stunned. His aunt?

"She came to talk to me and told me how lucky I was to have all I've got and how I was wrong to shame someone for doing a different job. Harriet, the grant is yours, no strings."

When the door closed, Dempsey looked at Harry, searching her face and unable to comprehend this twist. "Do you still want the grant?'

"I need the grant," Harry said, a look of determination on her face. "What I want is you."

He blinked, lost again, "But your reputation? Those people? They will talk, you can't stop them."

"Let them," Harry looked like a liberated woman, "If I take it, they can do great things and I'm about ready to quit too. If I can't make a breakthrough because my husband has a past, we'd be living in huts without power."

"Husband?" Dempsey was certain he looked as smitten as he felt.

"Angela threatened pain."

He looked down at her with his eyes closed for a moment and she took his lapels. They stood for a moment, taking it all in; just what they had agreed to.

"You know at least one thing goes wrong at a wedding. At least I've married the right man this time,"she lifted her head and smiled.

"We made up for the rest in style."

"I am keeping this dress."

He raked his eyes over her again, "You're goddammed right. I noticed he didn't apologise for putting his hands on you. What a prick."

"He is a prick, but I'm going to take every penny," Harry agreed.

"I wanna hang him by his balls from the top of the chapel roof, my wedding gift to you." Dempsey considered carefully.

"How can I complete with that?" His wife teased.

"I'm sure you'll find a way," he paused and then held out his hand; "I'm Dempsey, I love you."