Lewis and Hathaway drove back to Oxford with the raven-haired Victoria Merton in the back seat in their most awkward silence ever. After depositing Ms Merton at the station and a debriefing with Innocent and Grainger, it was time to call it a day. Hathaway was loath to mention the morning's misadventure, but once the two were alone in the car he could no longer suppress his curiosity. "Forgive my asking, sir, but... Cornish mentioned Chief Superintendent Johnson. Martin Johnson who just retired from Regional Crime? Isn't he the one who always calls you Bob?"

Lewis huffed. "Always was a prat, Johnson, but I can't say I fault her judgment. For a while, I even thought about leaving Morse to join Johnson at Regional Crimes meself. His star was on the rise- twenty years ago. Look, Laura's not a…" (He struggled to find the right word) "… tart; she is a workaholic who meets people at work."

Nevertheless, Lewis cringed as he flashed back to a night many years ago. He was sitting in Morse' jag, watching as Hobson made her doe eyes at Morse; yes, even Morse. Lewis didn't know what was said, but the expression on her young face showed rejection. Lewis had then driven Morse to Adele Cecil's house. While he thought that Ms Cecil was a good match for Morse- certainly a better fit than Hobson- he himself had simply wanted to go home to his wife that night. Instead, there he sat in the jag, waiting for Morse to emerge. So much wasted time he could have spent with Val…

"And why the hell did Cornish have to bring up Val?" Robbie abruptly asked aloud, unsure if he was asking Hathaway or God or the Devil. He didn't wait for a response. "Ach, I'm mad at meself mostly. Bloody coward, I was. Shouldn't have let him get away with it, using Val to hurt me like that. And I should have defended Laura. I should've just punched Cornish instead of… well, you know what happened."

"No, sir, I think it took a lot of strength not to beat him to a bloody pulp. You took the high road. Until that last part…" Hathaway snickered, but Lewis didn't hear him. Lewis was now transfixed by what he saw through the windscreen of Hathaway's car.

Those same haunted doe eyes from many years ago were waiting for him on his front stoop. This time, the illumination of the headlights showed fine lines on Laura's face that reminded him that the doe eyes were closer to fifty than to thirty, but age didn't diminish their allure. Her look of wanting and hope mixed with concern and even desperation made him realize that Hobson had been waiting for him for a long time. His veins were still quivering with anger, and he didn't want her to see him like this.

"Bloody hell." He said under his breath. "You've got to get rid of her for me, James."

"No. I won't do that. I'm tired of seeing both of you hurt. You need her, and she needs you. Whatever you do, don't reject her, sir." Hathaway said. "You'll never forgive yourself if you do." Hathaway continued to himself in silence. I want you to have someone in your life if I leave… when I leave….

Lewis reluctantly got out of the car and sat down next to Hobson on the stoop. He didn't say anything but put his arm around her.

"You weren't answering your phone." She wanted to ask him 'why,' but it came out as a statement instead.

"No." He declined to elaborate.

"God, Robbie, what have you done to your hand?"

He didn't answer her question but instead apologized. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long." The double entendre was not lost on her.

She noticed his quickened pulse. "And your blood pressure's up, isn't it?"

"Rough day. Sorry, love, I'm afraid I'm useless tonight. You should go home."

"It's OK, Robbie. Maybe I can help you relax." She started to knead his shoulders.

"No. Not tonight."

"Don't shut me out, Robbie, not now when you've only just let me in!"

Robbie knew that if Laura stayed tonight he would either force himself on her brutishly or weep and beg her to marry him. Maybe both. Either way, he didn't want it to be like that. But how could he tell her? "I want you, Laura." The simple truth, though his voice was sharp. "But I'm not in a good place right now. Don't want to take that out on you."

"It's all right." She squeezed his hand, which had bled through the gauze. "Your hand needs attention, though. Will you at least let me change the dressing on your wound?" He relented and stood up to open the door. "Do you have first aid supplies, or do you want me to go to the all-night chemist? I don't mind."

The faintest smile permeated his lips as he remembered his daughter and said, "Check the loo. Our Lyn's a nurse." He pointed her towards the loo and then very nearly shoved her in.

That was odd, Laura thought. Robbie himself had just realized that the loo was the only room in his flat where he didn't still have a picture of Val. Laura found the drawer in which Lyn had stocked every bandage and ointment imaginable, and as she returned to the kitchen she spied Robbie trying to hide a picture of him and Val in a drawer.

Laura's heart lurched in two directions. She was relieved to know that he had made his choice to stop living in the past, but she ached to watch him deal with it. Symbolic fence-hopping notwithstanding, he was still making the adjustment from widower to boyfriend.

"You don't have to do that for me, Robbie. You had a good marriage and nothing changes that. He turned around to face her and sighed in relief. "After all," Laura continued, "Oxford is rife with my dodgy ex-boyfriends. So you have nothing to hide from me."

He gazed needily into her eyes. "That's why I'm with you now."

"My dodgy exes?"

"No, honesty. Things are out in the open."

"Ah, yes, well I'm honest to a fault sometimes, but that's better than keeping it all bottled up, isn't it?" She moved towards him and started to clean and dress his wound. He closed his eyes and flinched slightly as she worked. "Are you going to tell me what happened today?"

"Got into it with Nick Cornish."

"Mmm." She paused. He was afraid she would prompt him for more about Cornish and was relieved to know she was preoccupied with his wound. "These lacerations on your knuckles aren't consistent with a fist fight. You hit something."

"I didn't let him see that he got to me, but once he was out of my sight, I punched a vending machine. Left a nice spider-web pattern in the glass, so James said."

"Ah. I hope you at least stole some good munchie bars. I'm starving."

He didn't smile at her joke. "Made a bloody fool of meself, really."

"Bloody's the word all right. You know, your knuckles wouldn't bleed like this if you didn't have such dry skin. You should use a moisturizing lotion. I have some hand cream in my purse." She finished wrapping his hand and raised it to her lips for a kiss. She then took his other uninjured hand and massaged some lotion into it. She was growing concerned with his continued lack of response. "Sorry," she said, "I should know by now that you don't want me to fuss over you like that."

His voice was barely audible as he whispered, "Actually, I kinda like it when you fuss over me. Moisturizer's not something a single bloke remembers to pick up at the store."It was his way of acknowledging that he needed Laura; she was a soothing balm for his body and soul.

"OK, then." Laura smiled and caressed his cheek. He touched her hand on his face, and she took that as a cue to go to the stove and put the kettle on. He went to the cupboard and plunked down a package of biscuits on the table. "You said you were hungry?" He offered.

"Hungry for you, mostly."

He moved to her and they held each other, Laura rubbing his back and Robbie stroking her hair, until the kettle at last began to hiss. She poured the water into the teapot and they sat down.

The two of them overindulged in biscuits as the tea steeped. They shared a guilty laugh when they realized that they had finished the entire box. "Sometimes you just have to give in to temptation, I guess." Laura's facial expression made it clear that she was not just talking about the biscuits.

Robbie thought about how Laura sparkled against the backdrop of his drab flat. His flat wasn't dirty for he cleaned well, and it certainly wasn't cluttered by his meagre possessions. But it somehow lacked the warmth of a home. "It might be time to redecorate me old flat." He said, adding, "and if that means shifting a few photos around, then so be it."

Laura reassured him that it was fine, but she suspected that his bedroom was still a shrine to Val. She knew that Robbie would have to deal with that before she could spend the night.

When they'd finished their tea, he yawned. "Ach, I'm sorry. I'm knackered, love. Could I walk you to your car?"

Laura looked into his eyes and consented. "Only if you promise to ring me first thing tomorrow." Part of loving someone is knowing when they need their space.

"I promise, Laura." He kissed her tenderly. Laura was able to leave feeling secure that they would be just fine.

Epilogue:

Robbie rose in the morning, washed his face, and called the woman who sweetened his dreams in short order. It felt like an eternity until he could see her at lunch. Laura was waiting for him at a sidewalk café when she saw his beaming face shine through a cloud of ferns and roses. Her stomach had butterflies all over again. He offered her the bouquet with his still bandaged hand. She wrapped one hand around his on the bouquet and put the other on his back. They kissed. "Sorry that I was such a pill last night, love. I was just under a cloud."

"We'll weather the storm, Robbie."

"Of course we will. Look, I've got a day off next week, and I want to do this right. I'll make you dinner at me flat, and you can spend the night if you want."

"I'd like that very much," she said in a seductive tone. "But can you cook?"

"Just wait, I'm going to roast you a hen." Robbie started to laugh like a devilish little boy, like they did on the bridge after Laura had misinterpreted his suggestion to go for "a ride."

Laura was visibly confused. "A hen?" she asked.

"A Cornish hen."

She rolled her eyes at his pun and giggled. "I can't wait. We'll pick the bones clean and your Monty can have at the gizzards."

"Perfect. It's settled, then." And it was- both perfect and settled.