There are several great things about being the owner of a Triumph trike; you don't need to wear a crash hat, the ladies love it, and... somehow... it makes you look taller.

Not that I'm bothered, not really. Besides, pull a really hot lady and you just get more respect for being a little vertically challenged.

Another good thing: the biker boots. They're good for an inch and a half, two inches any day.

So this night I pulled in outside the pub and locked up. Was only going in for a quick one on my way home. Hated the town, hated it. Dirty and tired with no work to be had for the locals... and there's me, on a placement in the family firm so the town pretty much hated me, as well. Incomer, stealing their jobs. And their women, truth to tell.

Anyway, this night, I was celebrating. The feeling that I had to get out had been growing and I'd been nagging my uncle to sort me out something better. Today he'd said, as long as I finish the first set of surveys, he could get someone else to follow up the next phase based on my findings, then okay, there'll be something, if I don't mind coming all the way home and if I don't care what I do.

I walked into the bar and saw the something to make me think perhaps this place wasn't so bad after all. Leaning against the bar, long, long hair in a sort of silvery blonde shade, loose and straight and sleek. Long, long legs clad in figure-hugging denim, going all the way up to Arse Heaven... and all the way down to my groin. In fact, I felt the effects all up and down my body, finally settling in my midsection and I knew who I was leaving with that night.

And, oh look, there was an empty bar stool next to her.

I made sure I filled it and nodded to the barman as I tried to climb smoothly up onto the seat, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror behind the shot glasses. Not so tall, yeah, but everything else was working overtime... brown eyes, long hair, bit wild from the bike, maybe. Beard looking good. I slid my eyes across to catch an eyeful of the blonde lovely at my side, hoping the front matched the promise of the back, and... Sweet Mahal! Did I say 'blonde'...? Make that 'blond', I'd walked up to that seat lusting for a bloke without knowing it...

Oh, well, still gorgeous, though... and he was looking back at my reflection...

I smiled at him in the mirror and turned a little towards him.

'Buy you a drink?' I said.

'I was going to ask you that,' he said. 'Once I was sure...'

'Yeah. Easy to make a mistake and end up embarrassed.'

'Or injured.'

Good point, especially in this town. Not that I tended to suffer too many mistakes. Suppose it's easier, being able to play in both camps.

'I'm driving so just tonic water for me.'

'Wow... good looking and a cheap date. My luck's turning!' he said, beckoning the barman and indicating his empty glass. 'Same again, and a tonic water.'

The drinks arrived and we moved to a table in a quiet corner; it was still early, not too busy yet, not so noisy you had to shout to be heard.

'I'm Legolas.'

'Gimli.'

I took a proper look at him now. So tall, lithe; well-put together though, lovely hands. Eyes so blue, a smiling mouth, a determined nose... great bones... beautiful throat, damn, he was just the complete package.

'Ah. Where are you from, Gimli? You don't sound like a local?'

'No, I'm here working. Geologist, surveys, that sort of thing. Starting a new job soon, though. Couple of weeks.'

'That's a shame. The things I want to do to you... there won't be time, unless we make a start soon...'

I almost choked on my tonic; usually it was me taking the lead. Thought I'd better make sure he really was flirting.

'Well, you know, that wasn't the smoothest line in the book, was it?' I said. 'I mean, calling me a cheap date. Should have said, the money you save on buying me drinks you could spend on buying me dinner...'

He laughed, and it sounded like music.

'Yes, I suppose I should have. Well? There's a great little Italian place down the street... if you like...?'

I knocked back my tonic and he downed his whatever-it-had-been, some kind of spirits, both of us keen.

'Ready when you are,' I said, and led the way to my ride.

'Wow,' he said as I patted the petrol tank with a grin. 'Beautiful. Just one problem I can see...'

Oh. Here it came. Haven't got a crash hat. Which really just means, I'm scared of getting on that thing. I decided, if I had to, I'd pretend to believe him and spring for taxis.

'What's that, then?'

'No parking near the restaurant. Not for something like this.'

His eyes lingered on the chassis in much the same way mine were lingering on his and I realised, with relief, that he wouldn't be afraid of riding with me.

'Well, we could... go back to my place, order something to eat in...' I suggested.

'Or mine. I've got pizza in the freezer already...'

'If it's my place, I've got a nice bottle of wine chilling...' I countered.

'So have I. And if it's my place, well, you'll have to stay over if you want a drink.'

He grinned and, Durin's beard, fluttered his eyelashes at me. Should have looked daft, but it really, really didn't.

'All right.' I swung into place on the trike. 'Hop on. Where's your place?'

He told me the address, gave me directions.

'Fine, I know it. Feel free to hold on if you feel, you know... unstable.'

'Since I first laid eyes on you,' he said, which should have sounded corny but my mouth was dry, suddenly, and his arms sliding round my waist were a promise.

His place was a nice apartment with a parking garage and views out over the town, but I had better things to do than look out of the window...

In through the door, I'd only just got as far as taking off my jacket when this blond tornado hit me. It was like he was starving, hands, mouth everywhere, touching, tasting, his breath gasping, his fingers burying themselves in my beard as I got a chance to taste that pale, vulnerable throat... we must have moved because we were in the bedroom, no clothes left on either of us, the air cool enough to make me shiver.

'Oh, goosebumps, beautiful,' he said, stroking fingers over my skin and just making me shiver more. A rip of foil and he was getting busy with a condom. 'I never asked how you wanted to play this but, well, you're the guest...'

He slid it over me, taking his time, enjoying himself, apparently, twisting to kiss me before presenting his beautiful arse to me and... well, it would have been rude not to...

I won't go into detail – let's just say it was a couple of hours before we got around to pizza and wine. We ate and drank on the bed – it was already stained and smeared beyond redemption, so a few crumbs weren't going to make much difference – but it was one of those things where you know it's right and special and you don't need to go through all that boring, what music do you like, where do you work, what's your family like? stuff, because all that matters is what your bodies can do together, and then you realise, while your bodies have been making friends, your hearts have somehow got tangled up together as well and before you know it, you're in love without even knowing if you like each other. He was hot as chili and sweet as chocolate and I gorged myself on him, he on me.

The next few weeks were the best of my life. He came to my place, I stayed at his, we went out on the trike, we stayed home, we went for walks... we ignored the fact that my transfer was looming until almost the last minute.

It was Legs brought it up, finally – he'd resisted me calling him that, Legs, at first, but had come to hear it as a term of affection, a compliment because, well, his legs were almost as fuck-me! as his arse was...

So, anyway. It was Friday night, his turn, and I rode the trike round to his flat on a wet, slippery road and arrived tired and looking for the haven of his bed and his sweet, sweet words and the way he almost sang when he climaxed.

Legs greeted me with a kiss as ever, lips and tongue, almost inhaling me, it felt, the hug he gave me tight, sad somehow, and I knew without asking what was up; Monday I started my new job two hundred miles away.

He didn't talk about it, though – we didn't talk about it, too much else to say, how was the day, what did you do, by the way, do you know I love you, love you, what the fuck are we going to do, Legs? Do you have to go, Gimli? and then to take the thought to bed with us that this might be our last weekend, for a while. Not forever. We wouldn't let it be forever.

We didn't really sleep, after. Eventually, pretending not to be awake got to be too much and I sighed and he lifted his head from my shoulder, his hair drifting across my chest.

'When... when's the last moment you can leave?'

'Two am Monday morning,' I said. 'Five or six hours on the road, quick wash and change and coffee somewhere. Straight to the orientation meeting at nine, I can do it if I push through the night...'

'It won't be safe. I mean, I know you're safe on the trike, but that kind of journey, that kind of time of night, all the artics are out on the road and they don't care, they won't see you...'

'I'll be fine, Legs.'

'Will you wear a crash helmet, at least?'

I sighed. Every time it was wet, or late, it was, wear a crash hat, Gimli, you're no good to anyone dead, Gimli, it's not you, it's the other road users, Gimli... but I had started to, like tonight, in the rain, just because he'd know from my wet hair if I hadn't.

'All right. Just for you.'

'Thank you.' He kissed me and then gave me an appraising look. 'You know, you never told me what you really do.'

'Geology, surveys, that sort of thing.'

'And your next job?'

'Okay, it's a bit of a change. Security, to start with.'

'Keeping what secure, exactly?'

I sighed. Truth was, I'd been so eager to get out of town I'd agreed to do anything and, well, I was. One thing to use my skills to find the best places... I could miss the more fragile locations off the list that way, not do too much harm... and I didn't really know who to believe, the environmentalists, or the bosses...

'We're a small family concern working a franchise for a bigger company. It's all we've got at the moment, and, well, I've been doing surveys, like I say, but they need someone to keep the protesters off the site... it's contentious, yes, but...'

'What is? What's contentious?'

'Fracking, but if it's done carefully...'

He swore. And kept swearing, and got out of bed and went to the kitchen and swore some more.

I gave him a few minutes, time for the air to clear, before going to look for him. He seemed to have made coffee, but was sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

'Talk to me,' I said, bringing the coffee. 'I can't put this right if I don't know what...'

'My father owns the land all around that fracking site. We've got timber there could be damaged by it, the whole country could be damaged by it, Gimli, and now I find you're the one been telling them fine, go ahead? And now you're going to stop people even protesting about the destruction of our world?'

'Legolas, no...' It wasn't the time for diminutive endearments. 'No, you've got it all wrong... the surveys I've been doing... I'm making sure the fragile places are safe, I'm turning in reports that say, you can't do that here, and we're being listened to...'

'And you're leaving and going to be a security guard instead?'

'Well, maybe that's a mistake, but until I met you, I hated this place and...'

'And so did I! This isn't my home, Gimli – I came to look after my father's interests, and... and I find you're the enemy...!'

'No, no I'm not, I'm really not! Look, let me explain...'

It was no good. However much I tried to explain, however much he tried to hear me, we couldn't find common ground, except by going back to bed, and then we both ended up crying in each other's arms, knowing we were perfect for each other, knowing after tonight we were both going to be so alone.

Finally, Legs cried himself to sleep, and I left, furtive, too upset and guilty to stay and see more accusations, real or imagined, in his eyes when he woke. I even pushed the trike up the road a way so I wouldn't wake him, and put my crash hat on so I wouldn't worry about him worrying.

It was still raining, and dark, and as soon as I hit the highway I gunned the engine into the night, snarling down the road, half-blinded by tears, going far too fast so I lost my bearings and didn't see the turn until the last minute, throwing the bike round to try and make it... lost control, the back end skidding, one wheel over the edge of the hillside, the other burning rubber...

There was a crump and a bang and a screech and I was thrown clear, sliding across the tarmac, hands spreading, vaguely relieved I'd got a nervous boyfriend who made me wear a crash hat, coming to a stop in the middle of the road and hearing the engine cut out, a bump and bang as the trike went off down the hill.

Sat myself up, shaking, hands bleeding, head spinning, hurting just about everywhere. Managed to pull out my phone. Took me three goes before I managed to call Legs and I realised as I tried to move there was something up with my arm or my shoulder, shock wearing off, pain spiking.

No answer.

Damn, was he so upset with me he won't talk to me? Come on, Legs...

Felt sick, cold, shaking still.

'What?'

Finally.

'Legs?' My voice sounded more shaky than I felt. 'I'm... I'm on the turn two miles from town. Come get me? I had an accident...'

'What? Gimli, what the fuck do you think you're doing? If you're making this up in some kind of sick attempt to make up with me...'

'We haven't split up. Not going to. Think my arm's bust, Legs, trike's gone over the side.'

Silence as he took this in.

'I'm calling an ambulance,' he said. 'And the police, so if you're making this up...'

'No, I'm not, love, I swear it. No ambulance, no need for police. Just you in a taxi, that's all I need.'

He must have called an ambulance anyway because one turned up and the paramedics were halfway through making sure I wasn't going to die on the road when he arrived in a taxi, his face frightened as he hurried over.

'Are you all right?' he asked.

'That's what they're trying to find out,' I said. 'Guess I won't be starting a new job on Monday, though. How's the trike?'

'Good,' he said, turning his head to look over the edge of the drop. 'It's dead, I think. Good job you had three wheels; on a regular bike you'd have gone straight off.'

The paramedics loaded me up into the ambulance and offered him a seat in it.

He hesitated, and I knew it was make or break.

'Well?' I prompted. 'I didn't want that job anyway, we can work something out, can't we?'

'That's twice tonight I thought I'd lost you,' he said. 'I don't think I could bear it again. Not letting you out of my sight, right?'

'Fine. Now pay off your damn taxi and get in the nice ambulance.'

He paid off his taxi and got in the nice ambulance, and after that, I didn't really mind the pain.