AN: I hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. As always, I don't own these characters, this is a purely for fun piece of fan-fuelled work. Thank you all for your messages of encouragement, your comments and messages mean a lot to me and help to keep me writing, so many thanks. Cheers ML.

It was a Sunday evening in mid-August. Already the nights were starting to draw in and, despite the warmth in the air, by nine o'clock in the evening it was dark outside. At their home in Oxford, Robbie Lewis and Laura Hobson were both relaxing on the sofa, Robbie seated at one end while Laura lay on his lap on a big comfy cushion while her legs stretched out lazily over the rest of the sofa. Robbie's hands rested lightly over her, happy just to have contact, occasionally caressing her arm or smoothing her hair as they chatted to each other.

Robbie had been telling Laura about a summer he'd spent with a friend, as teenagers, working in the amusement arcades and fairs along the north Yorkshire coast. He enjoyed telling the tales, watching her reactions and surprise as he painted her a picture of his past.

"And you never got your trousers back?" Laura asked through a laugh

"No" Robbie chuckled, watching her eyes shine with amusement at the story he'd just told her. "As far as I know they're still there"

She laughed again. "Robbie?! Is this one of your embellished tales?"

"No – it's the absolute truth!" he replied with an indignant laugh.

Laura shook her head, a grin still beaming on her face. Robbie would never lie, not even in this sort of situation but they both knew he was prone to embroidering his tales with a little more depth than was there in the original. He was a good storyteller and Laura loved to just simply be close to him, listen to him talk and hear his voice and the softness of his accent. Sometimes his stories involved characters from his past in Newcastle and she was always entranced by his renditions in a stronger Geordie accent. After a few drinks too many his own accent would strengthen too, and it always thrilled her.

As the sky outside darkened to a deep moonless black, Robbie told Laura about the places he knew up the North Yorkshire coast – Scarborough and its ancient castle, Robin Hood's Bay and the tiny cottages there, nestled on the edge of a long stretch of beach. He described Whitby, with its church and ruined abbey and beyond that, the vast purple expanses of lonely moorland. As he talked his hand went to her face and he caressed her cheek, his thumb gently playing across her high cheekbones. He loved to make her laugh with his stories. She was always a good listener, to whatever he was saying, but these days, more often than not, his talk was of good things; fun things from his past that seemed to enthrall her.

The pair of them could do this for hours, just talking about not particularly anything, or sometimes everything. It was effortless. There was so much to talk about, with ease between them both, still, after several years of being together. The luxury of being good friends before their physical relationship blossomed had afforded them a fast track to an intense and delicious intimacy both in mind and body. From the very start of their relationship they were able to snuggle on the sofa in a comfortable embrace that spoke of the years of friendship that had laid the groundwork. They were at once as comfortable as a cosy old favourite worn jumper but at the same time the thrill of newly acquired physical love was something wonderful and fresh, akin to a rainstorm after a hot day. This freshness was still there for them years after they had first got together.

Over the years, listening to the tales of his youth, Laura pieced together a picture of Robbie's earlier life, long before she came to know him in Oxford. Their lives as young people had been very different. There was an age gap, but it wasn't so much that which set things apart. While Robbie had been working at eighteen, Laura at that age had been travelling on the continent, establishing with ease her independence that was to help forge her career and her life. After that, she had gone to Oxford and there she had stayed. In that respect, Robbie had much more life experience than she did, despite all the travelling she'd done. As Robbie continued his stories, Laura watched him with affection as she listened to his tales of adventure. Robbie had never been to university, but his life experiences had made him brilliant at his job, just as much as she was with hers.

Laura knew too well that an Oxford education partly served to provide an elite separation between the "haves" and the "have nots". Forget just being brilliant at something, that was only part of it and that was just within the college society. It had always been thus. Right from the start she knew the stamp of Robbie's social status writ large across his character, for all to see. She had witnessed it the first time she had met him and Morse had lectured him on his use of instant and instantaneous. Laura Hobson was the sort of person who could tailor herself to the situation, to the person, and either provide an empathetic ease or a powerful cut down as required. She had ridden roughshod over Morse for Robbie's benefit. As a woman in a male dominated realm she could tell that Robbie's social status and the sneers it sometimes received were not dissimilar to the traits of the sexism she experienced. Despite being at this raw end, it had not affected Robbie's integrity or turned him bitter. At work, all those years ago and since, he never treated her in any other way than as a professional, unlike many others. He never leered at her, or patronised her. He respected her professionally and treated her as an equal, working together to ultimately help others. This had been one of the things about him that had made her fall in love with him. She was proud that he was still a part of the force. The police needed kind and honest people like him to serve the public. But still, she worried deeply about him when he had to go out in the field, especially now he was a little older. He was fit and healthy, but anything could always happen. She pushed the thought from her mind as she always had to and pulled her thoughts back to the present. She felt Robbie's hand stroking her arm. He'd been telling her about the beach at Whitby. She looked up at him, he smiled down at her, he looked relaxed.

They had both spent the weekend off together. Despite the initial upset of Robbie returning to work after retirement, Laura couldn't deny that he was much happier now he was able to continue working as a consultant. She was relieved, however that since returning from New Zealand he'd cut his contract down a bit more. It had been his choice and she hoped finally that it signaled a more relaxed approach to winding down his career. He'd said he wanted to work until he dropped dead but since their 6 months away, she'd noticed a change. She knew he still needed to work but he seemed more content in the time they had off together. She had cut her hours with the intention of early retirement and handing the baton to a new head of department. The weekend had been one that had been long awaited due to Laura's various shift patterns while she appointed new staff to her department. In addition, she had a 5-day conference coming up where she was giving several seminars. Robbie was pleased that she'd relaxed a little over the weekend, she'd been busy recently and had been working hard. After the lazy Sunday they'd just had however, she was looking rested.

"Anyway, you should get to bed, Love," He said, squeezing her arm gently. "You don't want to miss your train first thing. Are you all packed?" He got up off the sofa while she reluctantly sat up, running her hand through her hair.

She sighed. "Yes. Can't say I'm looking forward to it, these conferences can be exhausting in just their tediousness. 90% of the time they're downright dull. Ugh and for nearly a week, plus since they re-arranged it to August half of the delegates won't even come "

"Ah, you'll be back before you know it, and those that go will be the ones that actually want to be there, come on, chin up, off to bed" She smiled at his "glass half full" sentiment and he reached out his hand to hers and pulled her up off the sofa. She reeled herself into his arms. He responded with an embrace, taken by surprise, having expected her to head upstairs to bed.

"Robbie, take me to Yorkshire. To Scarborough, and Whitby and all the other places you've talked about" she was looking at him with bright searching eyes, it was a look he knew was only reserved for him and it was one he loved it for its candid simple honesty.

"What?" He frowned in surprise at her plea "Really?"

"Yes – when I get back, I'm owed a week off, the department's in good hands, it'll be a good test to see how they cope without me for 2 weeks especially at short notice. Plus it won't affect Jack's visit, we can spend a few days up there and be back in plenty of time for the bank holiday."

"What happened to a week in Venice?"

"Venice will stink in late summer, we'll go in the winter or spring" She'd obviously thought about it. She ran her hands up his back and hooked her hands around his neck. Robbie's hands went to her hips and he squeezed them gently as he spoke.

"Scarborough's a far cry from Venice you know, even on a hot August day. When that North Sea mist rolls in it can hang around for days"

"Well then we'll just sit in a shelter and eat chips and drink Yorkshire bitter or "Newkie Brown" all day"

He smiled at the thought, then frowned slightly at her

"You really mean it?"

"Yes. I don't want to go anywhere else"

"Getting somewhere to stay might be a bit difficult, all the nice places are probably booked up by now"

"I don't care – we'll stay in a crappy B and B"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a good B and B"

"Well there you go then"

He looked at her. There was a girlish hope in her face as she looked back at him, smiling, with her eyebrows raised. She was more relaxed these days, about lots of things, he got less bollockings from her which was a sure sign she was mellowing as retirement crept ever nearer. Unlike his attitude to working for as long as possible, she couldn't wait to wind down her career, although professional pride and general fastidiousness meant that she wouldn't exit the department until she'd got it exactly how she wanted to leave it. He wondered if this was a safety net for herself – that maybe she still wanted to work like he did but needed an excuse to stay. Right now, however, he could tell she wanted this holiday, for whatever reason.

"Ok" he said with a chuckle, "I'll take you up the North Yorkshire Coast if that's what you want"

She laughed and hugged him tightly "Robbie Lewis, you filthy sod" she said, laughing at his initial confusion until he realised the double entendre.

He shook his head at her but gave her backside a playful squeeze. "You cheeky lass, you're the dirty one, it didn't even cross my mind!" he said and she laughed. He laughed back kissing her and chuckling at her amusement before she disappeared upstairs to get ready for bed.

With Laura at her conference, the following week was spent by Robbie trying to find places to stay on their holiday. He enjoyed planning the road route they would take, making sure he could show Laura all the places he wanted to on the way. First, they would go to Scarborough and spend a couple of nights there. Maybe he could get them a room at the Grand Hotel on the South Bay. If not, it would have to be a B 'n' B. If truth be told, part of him hoped it would be the latter. There was something nostalgic, not to mention romantic, about staying in a cramped room, sharing a small bed, all snug and close while outside the waves lapped over the sands. Weather Laura felt the same he wasn't sure. She wasn't a snob under any circumstance but she enjoyed nice things and comfort. As the days went by and his luck in finding a room at the Grand Hotel ran out, he convinced himself that whatever would be would be.

From her conference, Laura phoned Robbie briefly each day to ask on his progress. After making several phone calls and numerous enquires Robbie had failed to get a room at the Grand. He didn't tell Laura that the hotel was booked up but, in hope, persevered each day to see if there had been any cancellations. There weren't any. It would have to be a Bed and Breakfast.

Finally, Friday rolled round and by late afternoon Laura was on her way back to Oxford. She called Robbie from the train. As he saw her name on the caller display he suddenly felt excited about their trip, it was an odd boyish feeling, like he'd felt as a lad when school had finished for the summer. He smiled as he answered Laura's call.

"Hi, did you train leave on time? I'll pick you up"

"Yes, that would be great" she spoke quickly "listen I'm about to go into a tunnel, the line's going to cut out, but have you booked anything for Whitby yet?"

"Erm no, but I'm working on it" Bugger he thought. He'd been concentrating so much on Scarborough he'd completely neglected his search for a place to stay in Whitby. Earlier in the week he'd found some possible places to stay, but they were B 'n' Bs again, and not of the more upmarket type that he wanted to treat Laura to. Even he drew the line at more than two nights in a cramped bed, if only for the benefit of his old back.

As her train pulled out of London, Laura frowned as the phone line jangled with interference. For a second it sounded like Robbie was underwater and briefly she felt an odd jolt of, not fear, but anxiety that he'd been cut off.

"Robbie? Are you still there?" She said, with a concern that oddly outweighed the situation.

"yes love, I'm here" The anxiety passed and she thought no more of it.

She spoke quickly again. "Well don't worry. I think I have something lined up for Whitby or nearby, leave it to me. Oh! here comes the tunnel, I'll see you later!"

And the line disintegrated leaving Robbie at the other end with a bemused but relived smile on his face. Fate had taken over. He'd not had any luck over finding something decent near Whitby so if Laura was in charge she couldn't rollock him for booking a humdinger, especially as the only place he'd been able to secure in Scarborough was a very modest B and B. He smiled. It looked like fate was back on his side. He had a feeling this was going to be a special holiday already.