When she'd realized that Boyd had made every effort to distance himself from her once her family's case was officially closed, Sapphira hadn't quite known what to do. He'd transferred all of her belongings – zigzag bag included – to the hospital so there wasn't much reason for her to go back to his place. Hell, Sapphira couldn't be sure she was even welcome back there. When she'd really stopped to think about things, she couldn't blame Boyd. That man had put a roof over her head and truly fought to find out what had happened to her family; he owed her nothing. Yes, Sapphira quietly wanted more with him, but sex and chemistry didn't make a relationship. Maybe he'd though himself chivalrous or had just wanted to make things easier for the pair of them. Actually telling her to vacate his house surely would have been awkward and left him feeling like yet another person to abandon her. No, Boyd hadn't abandoned her, he'd needed her to understand she couldn't stay with him forever and that he didn't feel the same way. It hurt; made her heart weep in her chest, but that had been her own fault, she supposed. He'd tried to tell her the morning after that there wouldn't be anything between them, so their eventual separation shouldn't have surprised her. Loosing Boyd hurt but she'd known it would come.

After being released from the hospital with her sisters, Sapphira's attention had needed to be more focused on them rather than her failed relationship with that grouchy silver fox. With Abigail having only just turned seventeen, Social Services had taken charge of her and whisked her away. Sure, they'd been allowed to visit Abigail, but that was about it. She'd turn eighteen eventually though and hopefully the remaining sisters would get a chance to be together again. The main thing needed for that to happen would be a home of their own, so Sapphira had put that inherited money to good use and found a reasonably sized yet basic apartment for her and Elizabeth to share. White walls and cheep furniture hadn't quite left the same comforting feeling in her belly when she'd gotten home as walking into Boyd's place had, but it was a million miles better than a shelter. Sapphira chose to look at things positively; a roof over their heads was the important part, they could decorate as time went on.

Loosing Boyd from her life hadn't been easy, but at least she had Elizabeth by her side. John Callaghan's twins were together again and they'd not be separated for anything. With the assistance of the hospital and Grace, they'd managed to find therapists to help them work though their trauma and it seemed to have worked wonders with Elizabeth almost over night. Like Sapphira, Elizabeth had a habit of bottling everything up then shoving it into a dark corner where it couldn't bother her again. Of course, none of that was actually healthy for a person. They'd agreed not to discuss their individual therapy sessions beyond whether they'd gone well or not; in their minds it had been a way of trying not to dwell on things rather than pretending they weren't there. Perhaps it wasn't the best choice they could have made, but it worked for them.

Work had been another task for Sapphira to use as a distraction from Boyd's absence, and use it she had. Elizabeth might not have been comfortable enough around people to go job hunting just yet, but bills needed to be paid now they had their own apartment and so Sapphira had put real effort into trying again. For years, potential employers had been instantly put off by Sapphira's appearance and lacking an address basically cancelled out any chance of getting a job. However, things had drastically changed since then and Sapphira's perseverance had pushed her along. The road had been long and littered with disappointment; then, without any real warning when her perseverance had started to lag, it had all paid off. The owner of a quiet bar had finally taken pity on Sapphira and given her a shot. A job, a real job of her own. Mixing drinks for day drinkers wasn't all that glamorous, but the atmosphere turned out to be pleasant enough and Sapphira soon got the hang of things.

For the first time in years her life was on track and going well – it just lacked Boyd.

~X~

After a day of next to nothing happening at CCHQ other than a stack of cases being rejected due to no new leads or angles to investigate, Boyd had wound up slumped at his desk finishing up some paperwork with a practically mechanized efficiency. An ocean of pages and computer documents threatening to steal the sanity of anybody unlucky enough to be left responsible for them. He abhorred having to put unsolved cases back on shelves to gather dust, but they had to prioritize the cases they actually had a chance of cracking. Cold Case needed at least three times more staff, yet the Met left Boyd with seven, including himself, two of whom were clerks permanently allocated to; shifting files and evidence boxes around, compiling data and generally keeping the office functioning. Half the time Boyd couldn't even remember said clerks' names. Stella had three cases from back in the seventies she was pushing for but both he and Grace were more inclined to go with the woman found in a Regent's Park bush in 1989 as they'd got far more evidence bagged that Eve could run through modern DNA testing. Either way, diving into a new case was a problem for the next day's Boyd, that night's just wanted to finish his paperwork and escape the office without being cornered by Grace. Since he'd distanced himself from Sapphira, Grace had noted Boyd's mood drift back to the sullen one he was known for and had quickly realized why. Last thing the gray-haired man wanted was to be evaluated by their resident psychiatrist. So, when she'd started to pack up her things for the night, Boyd had made himself scarce long enough to dodge her, then grab his own stuff. He'd not hidden from her, just avoided any awkward conversations until a more godly hour; yes, that was it. An innocent display of conflict avoidance.

Winding up at the bar hadn't been a conscious decision, more like his Audi had driven him there without his permission. Was a vehicle capable of kindness? A cold beer and being left alone for a few hours did sound rather appealing however, so Boyd made his way inside and dropped onto a bottle-green barstool. Winter had started to creep up on them – a tiny craw which soon gained the audacity to break into a stampede. A stampede that scarves and gloves could only do so much to defend against. All too soon snow would tumble ever downward to blanket everything in powdery white for all of five minutes before mud and pollution turned it into black sludge. So slipping inside had offered a warmth he'd not realized he'd wanted quite so badly. He'd never really had a usual bar, more like a handful he'd pop up at from time to time, but the King & Pheasant was the closest of them to CCHQ and therefore the one Boyd found his way to most frequently. The sight of him wasn't exactly a rarity, a lot of other overworked, underappreciated, disheartened police officers found themselves there with their noses hung over pint glasses until they'd worked up the energy and mental cognisance to go home.

Peace and quiet, a heavenly set of words that soothed a little of Boyd's soul. However, that wasn't to be when his bartender turned out to be all too familiar. For a few seconds the two of them simply stared at one another as all around them faded away, but everything flooded back when the bald guy beside him insisted Boyd hurry up so he could order as well. That was how Boyd had ended up watching Sapphira over that cold beer he'd craved. She looked good, that was for sure. All her bruising had healed, gone were those painful contusions of purple and green. Her raven hair had been tied up in a high ponytail which swished around that long neck as she walked, subtle eyeliner emboldened those polished emeralds Boyd had always adored. Beautiful, just beautiful. Although, the longer he watched her shuffle around behind the bar filling glasses and pulling others off to be washed, the more Boyd came to realize she wasn't exactly comfortable. 'Is that because of me?' asked Boyd's mind while he sipped his beer that left that familiar bitterness from hops on his tongue. 'I never even said a proper goodbye so of course she'd be pissed at me. I'd be pissed at me if I were her.'

"How are your sisters?" His mouth propelled the question without his permission the next time she came close. "Recovered, I hope."

"I've not heard from Abigail in a while, but Elle is doing okay. She's started drawing again because her therapist thought it would be good for her."

Boyd nodded while the few people around him tried to work out how he knew the young beauty they'd been borderline ogling all day. Meanwhile, he was more amazed she'd not just told him to fuck off; she'd have been well within her rights. He'd told himself he'd leave her with a good impression of him, but maybe she'd just thought Boyd yet another to abandon her.

"That's good to hear, Sapphie. You remember how bad my art is."

Sapphira rested a fist on her hip as she flashed him a smile he probably didn't deserve. "Wasn't worthy of the fridge if I remember correctly."

Just like that, the pair settled back into casual conversation while Sapphira carried on with work as though the last month or so hadn't happened. There wasn't any uneasiness as one would expect, just that relaxed conversation they'd shared at his house. Perhaps peace and quiet was overrated, all the gray-haired man had really needed was her smiling face.

"If you'd like, I can look into how Abigail is. Being a Detective Superintendent opens doors, and I'll kick it in if it doesn't."

"That's okay. She needs to get settled and realize she's safe without Elle and I hindering that. Abigail will speak to us once she's ready. We want to work hard so she can come live with us after her birthday."

He nodded. It was exceptionally good that John Callaghan's twins had a goal, it would let them power through and come out the other side all the better. Their resilience and mental fortitude was something to be admired.

When Sapphira slipped off to serve a large group at the bar's far end, Boyd returned to watching her over his glass with those chocolaty eyes of his. Distancing himself hadn't done a single thing to free Boyd from his desire, nor had it magically reduced the age gap. A bit of an age gap wasn't automatically a bad thing, many couples thrived in spite of it, but Boyd knew he'd never be worthy of her and thirty-two years had to leave him looking like a degenerate. No, Sapphira deserved a man closer to her age, someone who knew how to communicate without shouting, and didn't have so much emotional baggage that hiring a bellhop seemed prudent. Regardless, Boyd continued to be drawn to her etherial beauty and delightful nature like a leaf floating atop a gentle stream; or maybe a moth to a flame would have been a better simile.

Over the following hour, Boyd saw many come and go from the King & Pheasant, some tried their chances with Sapphira only to be politely rebuffed, while others side-eyed Boyd expecting him to be some lecher that the owner should have been alerted to. Maybe he should have downed his drink rather than nursing it and left, yet there he stayed just eager to bask in the radiating light that was her mere presence. Then, before he'd even realized the hours had trickled by, the owner announced last call and Boyd remembered he had a home to go to. His beer glass was cleaned away, the bar wiped down, and once again words poured from Boyd's mouth without his mind's consent.

"Hey, Sapphie?" Polished emeralds found him over the wooden bar. "Do you want a ride home?"

Outside was dark and cold; a bitter chill consumed the night air leaving the wind akin to savage blades. Walking home in that sounded like hell, while Boyd's Audi had heating and would feed his greed to be around Sapphira.

She bit her lip while mulling the question over. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not." He assured with a grin. "I'd be happy to."

"Then yeah, I'd like that. Thank you, Boyd."

Waiting for the raven-haired beauty to finish up for the night and grab her things had left Boyd feeling like a teenager on a first date again, that anxiousness which tingled inside the chest. Gone was that scoundrel of a teenager and in his place was a man on the wrong side of fifty who needed more sleep and to work less. Still, when the pair finally made it out onto the street, Boyd forgot about everything as an icy chill tried to force its way inside his coat. He refused to shiver even as streams of breath spewed forth from parted lips.

"God, it's so cold!" Sapphira rubbed at her arms comfortingly in a desperate attempt to keep frostbite at bay. "Surely it shouldn't be this cold yet, it hasn't even snowed."

Without a thought Boyd wrapped an arm around her as they made their way across the road to his Audi. Sapphira snuggled against his side eager for his warmth, her delicate frame slotted against him as though they'd been a set all along and left Boyd longing to never release her.

"You can always climb in my coat, if you want."

What had been said as a chuckled joke soon came to fruition when Sapphira easily slipped her arms inside and around his waist, her cheek pressed to his upper chest which caused his chin to rest atop her head automatically. Two shadows in the cold night before the Audi's hood while a streetlamp did its best to illuminate the quiet street.

"Oh that's better. You're so warm."

Her hair smelt of coconuts while old beer had latched onto her clothing, both scents mixed with Boyd's aftershave to created a scent best described as not offensive but a little strange. Then again, most of the happenings in their, for lack of a better term, relationship had been somewhat strange. Large hands rubbed her back reassuringly while he committed the feeling of her pressed against him to memory.

"Tonight really turned out bitter."

Green eyes peeked up at him and whatever else Boyd had to say died on his lips, he simply fell into those bottomless green pools and floated away with their beauty. All those negatives that had swirled around in his head faded away as the world again became just the two of them. Their lips met in a desperate kiss both had been pretending they didn't long for. Their tongues met in a battle for dominance that Boyd quickly won when he hoisted her up onto the Audi's hood and forced her legs apart so he could settle between them. Slender fingers tangled in his gray hair to scrape against his scalp which had him cling to her all the tighter.

"Come home with me, Sapphie?"

He shouldn't have wanted her. He shouldn't have allowed himself to keep sending her such mixed signals, yet Boyd did it all regardless. For a moment he'd thought she'd rebuff him, something Boyd probably deserved, but then Sapphira was nodding and flashing him that stellar smile of hers.

While he fished his keys out from his pocket and ushered her inside the vehicle, Sapphira called her sister to let her know she'd not be home that night with more speed than Boyd had been prepared to expect.

For the entire drive, Boyd kept one hand pressed to her upper thigh unwilling to fully release her. Sapphira kissed and nipped at his neck while fingers helped to take the edge off his want for her. Empty were the roads on such a cold night, so Boyd soon pulled into the drive of number 12 and shut off the engine. Green eyes glanced to the white garage then back to Boyd as a tiny smirk pulled its way onto Sapphira's face.

"Still hiding that Bugeye away to gather dust? You're cruel to that car, Boyd."

He chuckled. "I'll take you out for a drive in it, if you want."

Then Boyd was out the Audi and around to pull Sapphira out into the night. He pressed her flush against the cold vehicle for another bruising kiss before lifting her over his shoulder like a fireman and carrying her up the steps to the warmth of his home. Sapphira giggled all the way as she teased him about being so eager, not that Boyd cared since it was the truth. Lights weren't bothered with – after twenty years he certainly knew the way – Boyd just carried the beauty upstairs to his bed where he freed her of every stitch of clothing.

Somehow she ended up on her stomach with the elder man over her so he could kiss down her porcelain back – lavish the skin with the attention it so deserved. Sapphira pushed her backside up against his hard member and Boyd let out a guttural groan reminiscent of wild animal. There wasn't any denying Boyd could be a domineering man who used his height, occupation and intimidating nature to get what he wanted, but he'd always tried to keep it to a minimum when it came to sex – had no desire to appear forceful or demanding. However, having Sapphira naked beneath him had that innate part of his psyche left over from cavemen days screaming at him to take her for his own and never let go. Yes, his animalistic side came out quite happily … and Sapphira seemed to like it.

Large hands located his condoms before they grabbed Sapphira by the hips, tugged her up onto her knees and elbows displaying every inch of her to his hungry eyes. Fingers which had spent most of the day tapping away at his computer finally turned their attention to something more primal, to the supple flesh of her inner thighs and then, finally, Sapphira's wet heat. She moaned under Boyd as he grew drunk on her sweet scent, on the sizzling heat of her core, on the way her pants made his name sound. Boyd cupped himself to relieve a little of his ache for her; a momentary ease from that all-consuming desire.

"Boyd, please," she breathed while her hands fisted the blue sheets. "Stop tormenting me and just fuck me already."

Sharp teeth bit down at the soft spot where shoulder met neck as Boyd's inner wolf burst forth to claim her; Sapphira cried out and pushed back onto his fingers wantonly. His fingers left her wet core but the raven-haired beauty didn't need to mourn him long as Boyd filled her with all the want and need he felt for her. The two of them physically linked in the most intimate of ways, a way Boyd wished wouldn't ever end, a way Sapphira thought they'd never have again. Boyd thrust hard and deep with his large hands firmly at her hips to guide the relentless pace he set. 'Christ, what did I do to deserve this woman?' his mind demanded, yet Boyd already knew the truth; he didn't deserve her.

The green-eyed angel panted and moaned his name beneath him, such perfect sounds that Boyd would have been happy to die listening to; an opera for his ears only. When the gray-haired man found that sweet spot deep inside her, Sapphira gasped and bucked her hips back against him in surprise which got a needy grunt from the elder man as his thrusts shifted to something slightly more erratic.

"Harder, Boyd. Harder!"

How could he deny her as he sucked a purple bruise where he'd bitten her. Sapphira's walls quivered around him at the pang of pain. She'd suffered so much in her short life, but the marks Boyd left on her weren't ones of ownership or dominance, they were reminders of their innate desire for one another and the pleasure they felt. A chest spattered lightly with gray hair pressed firmly against her back as he sought out her lips for another fierce kiss; one hand forced to leave her hip to support himself over her – at least until he pulled back and instead moved it to find her clit. Sapphira instantly gasped and bucked her hips into his touch. A tingling want bubbled away inside her, a yearning for this wonderful – if abrasive – man to drive her over the edge into the blissful ocean below. Boyd's quick-witted tongue found the bite he'd left at the younger woman's clavicle so he could lavish the mark with attention all while she moaned and mewed for him.

Boyd felt her legs begin to tremble as they fought to support her while hurtling toward orgasm; her elbows had already given out leaving Sapphira practically face down in the mattress while her hands clawed wildly at whatever they could get hold of; sheets, his shoulders, the back of his head where he'd pressed himself against her. Green eyes had fluttered shut long ago, focused only on the hard length which plunged in and out of her body. Boyd might have had several decades on most of the guys to try their chances with Sapphira, but wasn't some old dog not up to the task of making her see God.

His free hand abandoned her hips to tangle in that luscious raven hair of hers; so long and soft. Part of him wished to tug on it, but Boyd couldn't bring himself to risk reminding her of her childhood abuse, not when they were both so close to climax. So, instead, he scraped his fingernails along her scalp and peppered kisses to her scapulae when raven locks fell forward over her shoulders.

"Boyd!"

Suddenly her walls clamped down around his thick length as a moan escaped her into the mattress and Boyd could take it no longer. So tight, so wet, so utterly perfect around him she was. With a deep grunt that ended breathy and exhausted, Boyd came with erratic thrusts and that nickname so few were allowed to use on his tongue. His body urged to prolong their orgasms as long as possible but he felt himself growing tired. 'Can't keep up with someone so young' a dark part of his mind told him with vitriol, but no, Boyd refused to listen to it. He had this wondrous beauty in his bed and he'd make the most of every second of it, ever second of hearing her delightful noises, every second of being the one to pleasure her.

With renewed vigor, Boyd rocked back onto his haunches a moment to just gaze at his sweet girl peering over her shoulder at him. Eyes luminous with euphoria, hair a mess. There would be time to simply gaze at Sapphira later, instead those dark eyes of his trailed passed supple breasts and flat stomach to her wet core between firm thighs, all while a naughty smirk littered his face. The condom was tossed into the trash, then he shifted to lay on his back and hauled her to straddle him. Without a single word, Boyd shuffled down until his came face to face with her sex and pressed his tongue to her.

"Fuck!" Sapphira groaned as her hands shot out to the bed frame for support.

Boyd coaxed her legs open a little further while he licked her. Gone were the dark horrors of his world and in their place existed only Sapphira; a goddess he wasn't worthy of but would take every second he could with. She soon grew close, her body already over sensitive to his pleasurable torture, so Boyd snared his strong arms around her thighs to keep her bucking at bay while he drew every swear and groan he could from those petal-soft lips of hers.

Sapphira's second orgasm hit her without warning, one moment she'd been desperately trying to hold on just a little longer and the next white had exploded behind her eyes. Boyd had pressed his lips to her glistening sex and sucked, that had been all she could take. Again blessed by her moaning his name, Boyd savored the flavor of her pleasure until Sapphira's legs had abruptly given out and forced him to carefully angle her to fall onto the bed beside him.

For a long time neither spoke for they were too focused on filling their lungs with air and basking in orgasm. His arm slotted around her as though they'd been constructed as a pair, her hand lazily stroked through that light spattering of hair on his chest. Neither had thought they'd have this again. Boyd had systematically destroyed every romantic relationship he'd ever had and knew Sapphira could do far better than some grumpy middle-aged cop, while she'd assumed he'd tried to let her down gently – he'd only taken her into his home out of kindness. That would be a conversation for another day, in that moment the pair simply wished to doze happily all snuggled up together.

Normally Boyd hated the feeling of sweat on his skin after sex, found it uncomfortable and chased sleep off, but as he lay there beside his darling Sapphira, Boyd wouldn't have cared if someone had tarred and feathered him. Duvets and bodies could be washed, but their time together surely wouldn't last forever. Such perfection was always fleeting, always gone too soon or slipping through fingers like smoke – a mayfly.