Of all the people she ever expected to turn up on her doorstep, he was the last. And yet, there he was, standing with a bunch of flowers in his hand. He looked totally uncomfortable, granted, but he was there.

He saw the surprise flit across her face and gave her a lopsided grin, greeting, "Hello, Jess... I... I was just passing..."

He held out the flowers, "These are for you..."

She took them; looking at them, smiling slowly and stepping back, offering, "Want to come in? I'd just put the kettle on."

He gave her one of those dazzlingly off-handed smiles that she remembered so well, walking past her into the hall. By the time she had closed the door and turned around the smile had faded, the discomfort returning. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

He was smart but casual, his clothes still well tailored even if he wasn't wearing one of the suits she remembered him always wearing before. Still it had been a year... Three hundred and sixty five days...

A whole year of taking it one day at a time...

"I'll put these in some water..." she smiled. Walking past him, she left him to follow her into the kitchen. He sauntered along behind her.

"So..." he tried. "How have you been?"

She put the flowers down on the work surface, glancing at him, considering her reply for a moment before admitting, "Good days and bad days. More good than bad now..."

He nodded, saying nothing more.

"Are you taking your jacket off?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Or are you not staying?"

He shot her another smile, peeling the jacket off, dropping it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and perching on the edge of the table. She had found a vase and was aware of him watching her as she filled it with water and arranged the flowers in it.

"You're looking well..."

"I've been working out," she admitted, "At the gym."

"You're looking good on it."

"Thank you." She smiled at the complement, putting the vase up on the windowsill. The sun slipped out from behind the clouds for a moment, bathing the pale lemon roses in its light before sliding back behind the heavy greyness that promised rain.

"Coffee?" she asked. "Tea?"

"Coffee's good," he grinned. "Milk and two..."

She nodded then reached into the cupboard for the mugs, asking, "So has Cowley actually given you a day off?"

He chuckled softly, "Yeah, twenty-four hour pass..."

"Then back to the grindstone?"

"Worse," he grimaced, "back to the paperwork..."

She giggled, unscrewing the top off the coffee jar, asking, "You mean you don't have a pretty young secretary to do that for you yet?"

"Cowley doesn't allow pretty," he told her, "Thinks it might take our minds off our work..."

She laughed, glancing round at him. "Cowley knows you too well!" she quipped, spooning the coffee into the mugs.

He quirked an eyebrow, putting his hand over his heart, admonishing, "Can you blame a man for appreciating the beauty and curves of the female form?"

Chuckling again, she pulled the milk out of the fridge, adding it to the mugs and reaching for the sugar. "So, what's the name of the female form you're currently appreciating?"

"Me?" There was a pause. "I'm sort of between female forms at the moment..."

She glanced at him, reaching for the kettle as he shrugged and went on, "Goes with the job. Broken dates, cancelled dinners..." He paused for a moment before adding, "Not everyone was as lucky as Scotty..."

He found himself an understanding woman, he finished silently.

Jess took a deep breath. She knew he was being kind, chivalrous, paying her a wonderful complement; but hearing him say Scotty's name slammed emotion through her. The tears, always lurking close to the surface, welled up. She fought them back, not wanting to embarrass him, not wanting to break down in front of him, but the pain, even after a year, was too raw.

She took another deep breath, trying desperately not to cry.

He saw her shoulders drop, saw her lean over the counter. Swearing softly, he moved to her, apologising, "Jess, I'm sorry... I never thought..."

His concern undid her. Sucking in a sob, she turned to him, eyes bright with tears. He was right beside her and wrapped his arms around her as she broke down in soft sobs.

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to deal with the situation, struggling to find words of comfort, so he simply held her, gently caressing her back as she sobbed. Finally he began, "Scotty loved you so much Jess. He always talked of you, of the little things you had both done. Never doubt how much he loved you..."

He kissed her hair gently, memories slipping back to the year before when Scotty had been shot. He'd held the big Scotsman, knowing that the ambulance was going to be too late, willing him to live, holding him as he'd taken one last, shuddering breath before relaxing gently into death...

"His last thoughts were of you, Jess..."

Astoundingly, through the sobs, he heard her chuckling. She pushed gently away from him, looking up at him. Brushing away the tears, she accused softly, "How can you be any good as an undercover operative when you're such a bad liar, Bodie?"

He looked down at her, genuinely confused. Smiling, tears still falling, she explained, "I know that Ray Doyle was still trapped inside when Scotty got shot... You and I both know that Scotty's last thoughts would have been of Ray not of me..."

Bodie swore silently, embarrassed at being caught out in the lie, knowing that there was no point in trying to deny it. Jess was a practical and very switched-on lady...

Jess saw the flash of emotion that swept across his face, something she couldn't identify; something frightening yet vulnerable at the same time. She reached up, touching his face, needing him to know that she had been laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation, not at him; needing him to know how much she valued what he had tried to do; how much she appreciate his lie.

"Thank you..." Her throat closed over the words and she had to swallow before trying again, "Thank you for trying..."

He looked at her, a smile tugging at his lips. Reaching out, he brushed away her tears with his fingers.

Afterwards, Bodie couldn't have explained why it happened, but suddenly she was kissing him, desperately, brutally and he was kissing her back. Jess clung to him, relishing his strength, relishing his warmth, relishing the simple, human touch...

Abruptly, realising what he was doing and disgusted with himself, he made a small noise, wrenching himself away, stepping back, his hands dropping and clenching into fists at his side.

Breathing hard, he looked at her; horror and regret reflected in his eyes. "Jess... I..."

She stepped forward, closing the distance between them but not daring to touch him, terrified that she would spook him and that he would bolt like a frightened animal, because she needed that human touch. She needed to feel alive after three hundred and sixty five days of death and grief and mourning the loss of the man she had loved, the man who had died in this other man's arms...

"Bodie..." she found herself begging, "Don't... Don't leave... Not now, please... I..."

Her throat closed round the words again and only a sob emerged. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hold herself together, trying not to break down in front of him again, not wanting to embarrass him any further.

Bodie closed his eyes, swallowing hard, letting his fists relax as he allowed instinct to take over again. He wrapped his arms round her, one hand cupping her head, cradling it against his shoulder, rocking her gently. "Ssh," he comforted. "It's okay, love... I'm here..."

He pulled back a little, lifting her head with gentle fingers beneath her chin. "I'm here," he repeated, kissing away the tears, his mouth finding hers.

---

Jess lay exhausted in Bodie's arms, spooned against him on the sofa, his body strong and hard against her back. His breath tickled her shoulder. She caressed his hand with her fingers.

Giggling softly, she commented, "Still want that coffee?"

"Mmm," he considered slowly, kissing her shoulder, "Sounds like an idea..."

She unfurled, sitting up and reaching for his shirt. He reached out, stopping short of running his hand down her back, something pulling him back. Standing up, she slipped the shirt over her nakedness, giving him a wide smile before padding across the floor towards the hall.

"Will you want a shower?" she asked, turning back at the door.

"After the coffee," he told her with a grin.

She smiled back at him, disappearing towards the kitchen.

Bodie sat up, refusing to allow himself to feel awkward. He had many regrets in his life, but making love to a beautiful woman had never figured on that list and it sure as hell wasn't going to figure now. All he had to do was tread carefully.

All he had to do was make sure that she knew that this was a one-off... She'd been lonely, he'd been there, and they had both seized the moment. No one, not even Ray Doyle, could fault him for that...He just had to make sure that Jess understood that.

"Kettle's on," she told him, coming back into the living room.

He grinned at her, watching as she walked across to him. She knelt in the floor, between his legs, her face growing serious. "Bodie," she began, "I... I hope you don't think... I mean... I don't expect..."

Relieved, he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "Shh... Don't worry... It's okay... These things just happen sometimes."

She smiled at him, "It's not that I didn't enjoy it..."

"I should bloody hope so!" he told her in mock scorn. Then he grinned, leaning down, kissing her forehead.

She tilted her head up, sliding a hand behind his head, kissing him deeply. He responded, drawing her closer. Finally, reluctantly, she was the one who pulled away, smiling at him. "Thank you," she told him, "for coming round. And for the flowers. It means a lot..."

He tweaked her nose, assuring her, "You're welcome... Now, what about that coffee?"

She laughed, a light, infectious sound, and stood up, heading back towards the kitchen.

---

"So," Doyle pushed, handing Bodie the burger, "You never said what you got up to yesterday."

"Didn't I?" the soldier evaded, unwrapping his lunch.

"No," Doyle accused, "You didn't!"

Bodie took a bite from the burger, chewing on it and swallowing before admitting, "Actually, I went round to see Scotty's misses..."

Doyle gave him a flat look, "Oh? How is she?"

"Actually, she's not doing too badly..." Bodie told him. He took another bite of his burger, chewing and swallowing before going on. "Took her some flowers, stayed for a coffee, you know..."

He opened his can, "It was a year yesterday..."

Doyle blinked. He hadn't realised. "It's a year already?"

Bodie glanced at him, nodding, "Yesterday..."

Doyle quirked an eyebrow taking the information in. "They say the second year's the hardest," he commented softly.

Bodie looked at him, "So they say... But," he went on, "Jess is pretty switched on. She's coping really well... I think she's going to be okay."

He grinned, memories flowing back to the previous day and the life that had been in her eyes when he had finally left the house. "I think she's really going to be okay..."

-- THE END --

June 2007