A/N – Swearing gets a little bit worse in this one. Hope it doesn't offend.

Chapter 9

Lewis saw Hathaway standing on the pavement out side his flat, fag in hand and an overnight bag by his feet, as soon as he drove into the road. He pulled up and Hathaway flicked his cigarette into a nearby drain before getting into the car. Hathaway didn't say much on the journey. Lewis put it down to the fact that James had probably been arguing with his dad again but after an hour or so at Lewis' place Hathaway remained quiet. Lewis began to feel uncomfortable.

They were sat next to each other on the sofa watching a documentary on the television about the history of the British Museum. Lewis had a feeling that neither of them was really paying attention to it though.

"Did you mean it?" lewis asked and turned the TV to standby to get Hathaway's attention.

"What?" Hathaway replied acting puzzled.

"What you said to me"

"I don't know wha-"

"Don't piss me about Jim!" Lewis interrupted and Hathaway gulped. "You've gone all quiet on me. You could cut the air in here with a knife. The only reason I can think of for you acting like this is that you've remembered."

"Don't do this" James pleaded and covered his face with his hands.

"Did you mean it?" Lewis asked again but there was no answer. He reached out and placed his hand on Hathaway's shoulder but the younger man shrugged it away and sat further forward on the sofa to create some distance between them. "James?"

"Yes" James said through his hands. He daren't remove them from his face. He daren't look at Lewis.

"I think it's still your turn to say something" Lewis said. There was a paused and Hathaway took a deep breath through his nose. He removed his hands and turned to face Lewis. He looked angry.

"Yes, I love you. No, I don't want to talk about it. Just leave it. Please, just don't." He said firmly and sat back into the sofa. He looked out the window, determined not to meet Lewis' gaze.

They sat in silence for a minute or so. Lewis hadn't expected this reaction. He hadn't meant to make James this angry. It was decision time for Lewis. He got up and poured them both a drink. Brandy for himself and whisky for Hathaway. He put the drinks down on the coffee table in front of them and sat down.

Hathaway mumbled thanks and Lewis smiled to himself. James may be angry but he never forgot his manners. James reached for his drink and downed it in one. Lewis cradled his glass and took a sip from his. Simply having the drink in his hand gave him the courage to ask.

"Aren't you going to ask me out me out then?"

"This isn't really something I want you to joke about. It isn't fucking funny." James said knowing that swearing like that, which he rarely did, would emphasise his point. "Your good natured humour isn't going to work this time."

"I wasn't trying to make a joke of this." Lewis said and Hathaway shook his head. "I was going to say yes, by the way. If you'd asked me out. I would have said yes."

Hathaway stared at Lewis. He looked serious but Hathaway knew that was impossible. Lewis waited and took another sip of his drink, keeping his eyes fixed on James.

"You were going to say yes?" Hathaway asked and Lewis nodded "And you're not joking?"

"I'm not pulling your leg." Lewis responded. Hathaway still didn't quite believe him. He got up from his seat and poured himself another whisky. He didn't retake his seat and instead stood in front of Lewis, checking for signs that his boss wasn't being truthful. "Do I have to kiss you to make you believe me? It's just that's not very romantic, that's all."

"I wasn't ever expecting this to happen." Hathaway said. He was trying to buy himself some time. "I only said it because I thought I was dying."

"I'd guessed that much, it's probably why I'm a detective, the ability to work things out." Lewis joked and Hathaway smiled. "Do you want a moment to get over the shock?"

The tension between them faded when Lewis said that. Hathaway sat down again. This time a little closer to Lewis. He toyed with the idea of reaching out to hold Lewis hand but decided against it.

"What do I call you?" James asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think 'sir' is really appropriate for this." Hathaway explained.

"Robbie, I suppose."

"I can't. It doesn't sound right. It doesn't fit with my style of enunciation." James said.

"You're too bloody posh, you mean? I don't mind being called Robert. Just stay away from 'Bob'. I hate being called Bob."

"Fine, Robert, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?" James asked.

"Yeah, alright." Lewis replied. "Where you taking me?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead. Thinking about it, I can't drive yet so I can't take you anywhere. I could cook for you, back at the flat."

"You any good at cooking?"

"I'm considerably more advanced than reading the instructions on the packet before putting it in the microwave, which is what counts as cooking in your book." James said and Lewis chuckled. "Dad should be out of the way for a few hours. He doesn't like it when you come to visit."

"Where does he go? Have you asked him?"

"No. I don't care as long he's not under my feet."

"What is the problem between you two, anyway?" Lewis asked.

"I don't think he is my dad. That's the crux of it all, I suppose."

"Really? You look alike." Lewis said.

"I also look remarkably like his brother, Thomas. He's priest in Wiltshire." James explained. "Dad never liked me being so fervently Catholic. He hated it when I went into the seminary."

"What's his problem with you being a copper, then?" Lewis asked.

"Who knows? It isn't about getting shot. I just don't think he like me very much, maybe being horrible is just a habit now. I don't know. We've never got on but it got so much worse after Mum died. I'm passed the point of caring now. I wish Innocent hadn't called him. I shouldn't have put his number down as my emergency contact."

"Terrible situation to get into with the man who raised you. Even if he's not your biological dad." Lewis said.

"Did he raise me? I was packed off to boarding school at the earliest opportunity." James said. "You've been more of a father figure to me than he has."

"Not sure you should be saying stuff like that ten minutes after asking me out." Lewis said jokingly. "I do get what you mean though."

"You're not going to ask about my Mum?"

"Nope. Save it for another time, shall we? Actually, what I was going to do was get myself another drink, put a film on, put my arm around you and settle in for a nice evening."

"That's sounds much better than dredging through my dysfunctional upbringing."

"Thought it might" Lewis said.