Redefining Devotion

Disclaimer- This story is for fan purposes only. All of the characters are property of their respective owners (not me) and are used here without permission.

It had been quite some time since Robbie Lewis had been to the cemetery. Any cemetery. He had a hard time conjuring up an appropriate doleful expression, so he therefore decided to visit a simple columbarium across town before spending some time at his late wife's gravestone in a churchyard. If he was going to submit himself to being interrogated by a ghost, it shouldn't be Val after all, he reckoned.

He regretted not coming to the columbarium more often, but at least he still remembered the way through the marble maze. Columns and rows of unadorned plaques marked the names of those whose earthly remains rested there. Soon Lewis was face to face with Morse's modest niche. He couldn't repress his boyish grin as he said, "you'll never believe this, sir, but do you remember Laura Hobson?"

The niche didn't answer, but Lewis heard two birds excitedly chirping in dialogue. He imagined that they were engaging in the Socratic Method. Lewis further imagined Morse thusly trying to extract the details of his liaison with Hobson. Morse had been perpetually unlucky with his trysts, but Lewis- despite a lonely interregnum- knew that he himself had been favoured (twice!) by enduring love. Just as Val wouldn't want Robbie to be alone, Morse would be edified to know that his erstwhile sergeant had found someone. Someone to tell him his theories were rubbish, someone to pose an intellectual challenge, someone who conveniently had no cash when it was time to pay for pints… Once he had confessed his secrets to the other side, Lewis softly rapped his knuckles on the small plaque that read "E. Morse" and headed off to more solemnly honour his wife's memory.

Robbie Lewis entered the churchyard with a sense of gravity which turned to confusion as he approached Val's grave. He was bewildered by what he saw: fresh stalks of heather adorning the front of her tombstone. "Who the hell put those there? The kids are gone…" He mused that the tiny blooms of northern heather were perfect for his bonny lass whom he'd often teased about being from "the south."

"Ach, Val, you've got a secret admirer. Should I be jealous, love? Nah, no point in jealousy now, is there. I'll always love you, though I've come to realize that there's more than enough Robbie to go around." He knelt down and traced her name with his fingertips. Then, he gripped her tombstone with one hand to steady himself as he rose to depart.

12 hours earlier…

The mobile phone on the nightstand rang out in the middle of the night. Our favourite semi-retired detective rolled over and flailed his arm over to grasp the phone. "Lewis," he growled into the mouthpiece, but to his surprise, the phone continued to ring.

"Hobson," came a sleepy voice from the other side of his bed. The ringing stopped. Robbie flopped his head back down onto the pillow and stifled a smile. Middle-of-the-night phone calls were never a good omen, but he couldn't help but grin every time he woke up next to Laura Hobson.

"Yes… OK... Right... I'll be there within the hour."

Laura rolled over and kissed Robbie. "I hate to leave a warm body for a cold one, but… you know where I'm bound." With that, the pathologist leapt out of bed and began gathering her affairs. Robbie watched her bustling about the room in a flannel plaid pyjama top that was many sizes too big. He knew she loved the adrenaline rush of a call-out despite their often gruesome nature. "I'm a game girl," she'd once said. Like Laura, Robbie threw off the covers; but unlike Laura, he dangled his legs (clad in flannel plaid pyjama pants) over the side of the bed before planting them firmly on the floor.

"You don't need to get up, Robbie. It's Peterson's case, probable drug overdose."

He ignored her suggestion, quite possibly galvanized by the mention of action man DI Peterson. "Go have a shower. I'll make you some coffee for the road."

"I'm all right. You don't have to do that." And she bounded off towards the bathroom.

Robbie thought about it for a moment and realized that he had taken for granted that Val would always see him off in such a situation. Val's picture had migrated from his bedside table to a shelf on the opposite wall, but her soul was indelibly imprinted on his own. With a nod to the picture on the shelf, he dutifully arose.

Thirty minutes later, the hallway was still dark, but Dr Hobson was stealthily sneaking out the front door. Inspector Lewis, however, detected her movement and called to her from the kitchen. "Laura! Wait!" He hustled into the hall, pressed two slices of toast into her hand, and held out a travel mug of coffee. She stopped stunned by the look in his eyes- so profoundly caring she truly didn't know what to make of it. He noticed her expression and asked, "What is it, love?"

"Did you get up at 4:30 in the morning to make me breakfast?"

He nodded and looked meek. "It's just toast. Coffee's bitter on an empty stomach."

"No one's ever done that for me before." But someone has for you, she thought. Hobson herself had never learned to put anyone else first and was humbled by Val's presence. For Robbie, Val might be slipping away, but for Laura, Val was just beginning to emerge- not coming between them but rather surrounding them. She understood now the look in Robbie's eyes- the look of unconditional love. Laura gingerly took the mug of coffee and kissed him. "I don't deserve this, Robbie."

"No," he chuckled, "you deserve much better. Now off you go." He kissed her again and swatted her on the behind to push her towards the door.

A few hours later, Dr Hobson had finished her job at the scene and did what she could to explain the details to Peterson (not a details man). She left the SOCOs to their work and had the corpse sent on its way to her freezer. Hobson decided to make a detour on the way back to the mortuary.

Laura Hobson knew in which cemetery Val Lewis was buried but had no idea as to Val's location within. So she walked along on the paths and alleys clutching a hearty bouquet of heather until she could find who she was looking for. As she ambled, she reflected on devotion and how she should redefine her ideas about relationships and career as Robbie himself had recently done. Yes, she had been his devoted friend for many years already, even making a dental appointment for him when he was too obstinate to do it himself. But he wasn't too obstinate, was he? He was too scared. He used the case du jour as an excuse to wriggle out of the waiting room even though his dodgy tooth needed attention. He would have needed Laura to hold his hand, not just make arrangements. In the end, it was James Hathaway who rescheduled, picked him up, and sat in the waiting room to make sure that he couldn't escape. Laura realized now that Robbie Lewis was a little more high-maintenance than one would think at first glance, and now he was all hers to care for and love- just as she was his.

At last, Laura found the late Mrs Lewis. She laid down the heather in front of Val and spoke frankly as she always did. "I learn something from dead people every day. Just not always in the way I expect. Thanks, Val, for the toast and coffee and Robbie and everything really. You trained him well. I don't know what he sees in me sometimes, but I'll do my best to make him happy. Even if I have to buy a chips fryer!" A new chapter, she mused.

Her thoughts recalled the night several months prior when Lewis had told her that Val was slipping away from his consciousness. Holding Laura's hand didn't feel like a betrayal anymore, they were just turning the page to a new chapter together. Laura headed back to work but remained lost in thought as to which vegetables she could force him to eat alongside the egg and chips she planned to surprise him with for supper. A new chapter, indeed.