"Thanks for coming, James. I appreciate it."

James brushed Robbie's heartfelt words aside as he stepped over the cottage's threshold, dipping his head slightly to make doubly sure not to bump his head on the lintel. His long legs made quick work of crossing the hall and into the living room and he was only vaguely aware of Robbie making his excuses and disappearing off somewhere down the passage. As he entered, he couldn't help but indulge in thinking about just what a comforting room it was and not for the first time.

The piano sat open as usual with a few loose leaves of sheet music left untidily on top, the latest piece that Laura was no doubt mastering. The fireplace was swept clean and a fire laid, ready to be lit whenever the weather turned, and emanating from somewhere there was the slight scent of lavender. He subconsciously looked for its source, a candle or diffuser, and pondered just how lucky Robbie was. James knew all too well that life had thrown his former boss had had his fair share of hard knocks over the years but he couldn't help feeling envious of the fact that, quite against the odds it seemed, he got to live here and in a state of domestic bliss. It was quite galling, he acknowledged to himself with a frown.

"In here, James," came a voice from off to his left and he turned to find its source.

Laura was seated at the kitchen table, a glass of wine half drunk in front of her, accompanied by an impressive array of savoury snacks set out in dishes in the centre.

"Want one?" she asked, reaching for the bottle and wiggling it encouragingly at him.

"Please," he confirmed as he slipped his light jacket from his shoulders and carefully draped it over one of the chairs. He took one of the seats for himself commenting as he did so. "I expected to find you curled up on the sofa."

Laura gave him a withering look. "I admit to needing your help with some of this, Inspector," she said, pushing a rather full glass towards him, "But I've not quite been reduced to a quivering wreck."

James smirked at that and took a long sip of his drink. With Robbie still not having appeared, they sat together and took a moment to savour the quiet. The breeze from the open window countered any heat that had built up during the day, the burnt orange sky still visible over the rooftops towards the end of the garden. It had the effect of bathing them in a warm light which was fortuitous, he thought, given the lines that were etched on both their faces. Hers from the stress of recent days, no doubt; his own from a previous sleepless night thanks to the antics of his own domestic arrangements.

"Is that Austen up there?" he asked at last, his eyes darting up to the shelves that ran the length of this part of the kitchen.

Laura craned her neck round to see what he was looking at.

"It is," she nodded, recognising the fabric covered spine of the book he was referring to. "Pretty impractical to have all the novels together in one volume. It's far too heavy to hold. I have to rest on the table to read it."

"Then why keep it?" he asked.

"It was a gift," she answered leaning over to grab a handful of cashews, "And I like the stories."

"I wouldn't have pinned you for a fan," he said, copying her action and popping a nut in his mouth, "I'd have thought it was a bit sentimental for your tastes."

"We're all dreamers, James."

James gave her a sceptical look.

"We must be," she reasoned, "With everything we see on a daily basis we'd have given up all hope of happiness years ago if we weren't all romantics at heart. Besides," she added, eyes twinkling, "What girl doesn't want to be swept off her feet by the brooding yet dashing Mr Darcy?"

James pulled a face although was willing to consent there was probably some truth in what she said. Not that he quite saw the appeal of the rude and obnoxious gentleman she referred to. He rather thought Colonel Brandon with his traditional manners and impeachable morality might be more her cup of tea, but he was wise enough not to voice it.

"Look," he started, suddenly deciding it was as good a moment as any, "The other night...I obviously shouldn't have said anything. Or more specifically, done anything. This business with Johnson..."

He stopped when Laura held up her hand, her face giving little away despite the gentle shake of her head.

"Let's wait for Robbie," she said softly, "He has a plan, or," she muttered under her breath, "At least I hope he does."

As she drank heavily from her glass, James looked on. The expression she thought she was hiding well was plain for him to see and gave away that there was more going on here than he'd previously thought. A case of sloppy filing and the bad habits of a rushed investigation it clearly was not. He checked his watch and boldly decided to move things along.

"Lewis!" he shouted out, "Is there any danger of you joining us?"

He and Laura shared a conspiratory smile as the sound of a banging door reverberated through the cottage, slippers slapping on the wooden floor as Robbie, at last, appeared from the direction of the study.

"Sorry," he bumbled, the contents of his arms deposited unceremoniously on the table, "It took me a while to remember where I'd left this."

From amongst the pile he pulled out a laptop, lifted the lid and began to tap away, two fingers at a time. James glanced at Laura and couldn't help but lift his eyes to the sky as she worked to bury a laugh. Robbie struggled on for a couple of minutes before giving a triumphant grin.

"Evening Ma'am," Robbie said into the computer.

"Turn me around Lewis," came a familiar voice from the tiny speakers, "I'm assuming you're not alone."

"Jean?" Laura said in surprise, staring at the screen that was now directing down the length of the table, Robbie shifting to take his seat at the head of it.

Jean Innocent sat upright at a desk in what was presumably her home office. She looked just as they'd all expect. Hair carefully styled to frame her face, an eyebrow already on its way to being raised, and a jade green satin blouse that indicated that she'd probably only just got in from work.

Laura looked from the face of their former boss to that of Robbie and back again. Her shock was matched only by that of James who was rendered silent by the addition to the group.

"Laura. James. Nice to see you," Innocent said with sincerity, "But perhaps not under these circumstances?" And then, when nobody spoke, asked, "Right then, where are we?"


The sky was closing in on complete darkness as they saw James out. His lanky frame made for a shadowy figure as they watched him walk up the short drive and cross the road, his car left parked on the street to be sorted out the next day. They chuckled as he turned briefly on his heel to give them a half wave, half salute into the air before he vanished around the corner.

Laura stepped back and returned to the kitchen to start clearing up, moving the glasses to the sink and pouring the dregs down the drain. She was aware of Robbie behind her, shuffling up various papers, notes of their conversation, various ideas and theories that they'd tossed about between over the evening, most of which had been rejected. She couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh as she stared without purpose at her reflection in the window, her mind unusually blank.

She stood there unmoving, conscious after a while of the sound of empty bowls being stacked and deposited on the counter behind her, followed by the clink of glasses joining them. His form was a shadow behind her own but she watched it nonetheless, turning only when he seemed to have finished his task, the air now

"We're no further along, are we?" Laura said, dejectedly, "All we have still is missing paperwork and my word that I wasn't involved."

"We have more than that, love," Robbie said, trying to make his tone as reassuring as possible. "Anyway, we have a plan now at least."

Laura scoffed. "What? Get Jean Innocent to pull some strings to get the Knight case reopened and haul Heather in for questioning?"

Robbie reached for her hand and pulled her towards him and she reluctantly let him, resisting at first the comfort of his arms as they encircled her before caving in to how good it felt to be held and leant into his embrace. Her head buried against his shoulder she could smell his cologne, one he didn't always wear except if they were going out somewhere. She liked it. It spoke of all their time together, as friends and then as something more, of every occasion they'd gotten close enough to touch, to hug or to share a kiss. All those nights when she could have pushed him a little more, taken the first step herself instead of relying on flirtations that she hoped would be enough for him to reveal what he felt. The sharp pang of regret raced through her mind as she breathed deeply and soaked up his scent once more - sandalwood and something else she didn't know. She didn't know why he had chosen to use it today but she was glad he had. It made her feel loved and, after the turbulence of having her name entangled in an unsolved murder case, she needed that, and more than she'd realised.

"The most important thing," Robbie murmured softly, "Is for me to hand this all back. Let someone else decide if there's a case for Johnson or anyone else to answer. We all agreed on that. And we're on your side," his tone insistent, "Whatever happens."

Laura nodded and let herself be reassured by his words. They stood as they were a bit longer, his thumb caressing her back in tiny circles the only movement.

"I'm sorry, Robbie," she ventured at last.

"Eh? Whatever for?" he replied, leaning back so he could meet her eye but not relinquishing his hold, "You've not done anything wrong."

"No, I know," she agreed. "I'm sorry that any of it ever happened. That I was so naive, that I didn't tell you sooner about Johnson, about all of it. You have to know that whatever may have happened between any of them is in the past, and even then fleeting and long since forgotten."

Robbie grimaced a little as she spoke but it was tinged with a sad smile. "We all have skeletons, Laura. Things we'd rather not remember or do again. It doesn't change anything. Not for me."

"But you walked away from me," she probed, "The other night. I thought…"

Robbie shifted to bring her close against him once more, a tight squeeze offered in silent reassurance as he spoke.

"I was cross," he confessed, "For a bit. But not at you. At the situation. At the people you trusted who've let you down. Me included."

"What?" Laura exclaimed, struggling free of his embrace to square up to him in disbelief. "You haven't let me down."

"I made you a promise in New Zealand, Laura, and I've broken it."

Laura shook her head, refusing to accept his words. She reached up to run her fingers lightly across his cheek, to smooth away the worry etched on his face. She let her eyes do the talking, holding his gaze as she fought back the tears that she would surely overwhelm her if she let them through.

Standing up on tiptoes she went to place a kiss lightly on his lips. They were dry and unmoved, his look of despondency turning to a sad but thankful smile at her efforts. She tried again. This time moving her hand up to his neck by way of encouragement and it worked. Whatever reticence he'd felt broke suddenly and she found herself being pushed gently back against the sink as his mouth moved in sync with her own, hearing as her own moans of delight mingled with his as they both lost themselves to the touch of the other. Breathlessly they broke apart and their eyes locked once more.

"No more talk of broken promises, Robbie," she murmured. "And no more about the past. Not tonight."

Robbie leaned down to kiss her cheekbone, his lips lingering before trailing to her temple and then deep into her hair.

"Bed then," he said, half suggestion, half rumbled command.

"Bed," she confirmed, her thoughts sparking as they turned to exactly what it was she needed from him right now, and his likely willingness to give it to her.