Post Episode: Twenty-Five.

He heard the door open and uttered immediately, "go away, Amy."

The door closed and there was a moment's silence before a voice answered, "I'm not Amy."

Never had truer words been spoken. He turned around and replied, "I know, I just thought she might be behind you."

She looked at him silently, think on those words, realising that she had always been behind, on the threshold, until now. "Is there anything you need?" She asked.

He walked around his desk and came to stand in front of her before uttering a single word. "You," he whispered, kissing her.

She did not even hesitate. She had never replied to Amy's question, though she knew the answer. She always had. But not until now did she learn his for sure. There was no mistaking the need in his tone just now, the harsh grief crying out for comfort.

Their kiss awoke, as they had always known it would, emotions previously repressed, and they indulged in the moment, until breath became a necessity. He part from her only to lock both doors, before kissing her again.

Their clothes became a barrier between their bodies and the floor, and silently they were glad of the lack of windows as they came together like two old lovers who had once been parted and were now together again, even though it was the first time they had ever made love.

Afterwards as he held her in his arms, he confirmed her thoughts. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied, "but I know that this is four years too soon."

"More like four years wasted," he corrected, stroking her face. "We should have done this ages ago. I should have kissed you the moment I gave you my badge in Nashua."

She smiled remembering that moment, and he moved to kiss her again. It was ended reluctantly, each aware of their surroundings and the need to get up, get dress and try for all the world not to look like they had just emerged from four years of public denial about their feelings for each other.

The End.

© Danielle Harwood-Atkinson 2021. All rights reserved.