Jennie's eyes flickered open. Sunlight was streaming into the bedroom falling over the coverlet of the bed in dappled waves from the curtain blowing gently in the slight breeze. It was late in the morning. As her mind cleared and consciousness returned, she was aware of the warm body wrapped around her, nestled against her, his arms enfolding her. She sighed with contentment. It was so long since she had felt the innocent pleasure of the comfort of a man's arms in the morning.

Her slight movement disturbed him; he stirred and nuzzled against the back of her neck, muttering something and then returning to sleep. Men. They could always sleep. Jennie smiled and then recalled why he might be exhausted. He had certainly expended enough energy last night. But not all of him was asleep, she observed with a smile. The hard ridge of his morning erection was evident against her buttocks. Arching back slightly she rubbed up and down, hoping that he would reach for her in his sleep; she remembered how she had once loved sleepy, hardly awake love.

A knock on the door disturbed her reverie; she checked the watch on his left wrist lying over her- it was almost eleven- may be it was the cleaner. With a sigh, she eased Bud's body from her and watched as he rolled over and slept on. He looked so much younger in sleep, the barrier he wore against the world stripped away. Jennie sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. Those eyelashes! He must have been a cute little boy. His mother must have loved him. Then the knock again and she tore her attention from him. Stepping from the bed, she struggled into her robe and opened the door a few inches. It was Caroline.

"Caro!"

Caroline pushed the door and strode into the room, stopping dead.

"Oh my God! You're sleeping with him? Gives a whole new meaning to private dick, hey, Jennie!"

"Shut up. Wait outside. I'll dress." She pushed Caro back through the door and grabbed some clothes, washing and dressing hurriedly. Scribbling a note to Bud, which she placed on the pillow, she left the room. Caro was leaning on the wall, smoking, an amused look on her face.

"Where to, sis?"

"There's a diner on the corner. Let's grab a cuppa."

Jennie marched ahead unwilling to talk to her sister on the way. Seated at a table in the diner, ordering cups of its tasteless tea, the two girls weighed each other up.

"How did you find me?" Jennie asked accusingly.

"I didn't need a detective. My muscle trailed you back yesterday. Lover boy must have missed that. Seems like he had other things on his mind." Caro grinned coldly.

"Bud and I... How can I explain it to you? You'll turn it into something sordid," Jennie snapped.

"While you will romance yourself into another grand passion. Jennie- he's a fucking loser. Don't waste your time on another dead end. Go home and get a nice English boy from the Home Counties called Nigel and breed middle class babies. Before it's too late." Caroline added tartly.

"Thought you wanted me to lose my cherry. Perhaps I just took your advice." Jennie felt like provoking her.

"He's your first? Jesus, that's going in at the deep end, love."

Jennie rolled her eyes and picked up Caro's elegant gold cigarette case, helping herself to a cigarette and lighting up. "Just because I tried to be a role model to you when you were growing up, doesn't mean I was a nun, you know. I can handle men. I know what I want." She blew the smoke out into her sister's face. Caro raised her eyebrows.

"So there's a bit of life left, is there? What's he like in the sack? Looks like he could give a girl a good time."

Jennie ignored her remark. "What do you want with me, Caro? We said all there was to say yesterday. So why seek me out now?"

Caroline lit up a cigarette and pulled at a piece of cigarette paper that had stuck to her lip. "I'm sorry about what I said. It wasn't your fault. You didn't know. I do appreciate what you did for me after the war. And I really was sorry about Lachlan. I was half in love with him myself. When he used to tell me about how we'd all go and live in Cloncurry and he'd be like my big brother and ... Jesus, Jennie- it was the bottom line when he died. I just fucking gave up on the world. I just knew that life would fuck me in the end so I was getting as much as I could out of it first. I never meant to hurt you, sis. I didn't want you to find out. I was ashamed." Caroline sniffed back a tear.

"Then give it up! Come home," Jennie begged.

Caroline shook her head. "It's too late for me. Anyway, I'm ashamed about you knowing but I'm not ashamed about what I do. I won't go back. Ever. But I want you to stay in touch. How can I contact you?"

"Write to aunt Jessie. She'll pass anything on until I get a place of my own. I let the flat go. I didn't know how long I would be here."

"When do you go back?"

"I have another two weeks on this ticket but it can be changed..."

"Depends on lover boy, does it?" Caro smiled, this time more warmly.

Jennie shrugged. "I don't know. I've only known him a week. It's been very intense. I'm not sure what's happening. By the way he has a name..."

"I never want to know their names, honey." Caroline's face assumed a harder expression. "Sucking their dicks is enough intimacy for me." Jennie exhaled but chose to ignore her; she suddenly realised that her sister was using this attitude to bolster up her confidence.

"He's called Bud White and he used to be a police man. He's a very nice guy. God, he's more than that. But I don't know where it will go. I don't know what he wants."  Jennie stirred her teacup thoughtfully.

"What about what you want, Jennie?"

Jennie looked her sister straight in the eye. "I never get what I want, Caro. I'm used to that by now."

Caroline leaned over. "Then isn't it time you started making life work for you? Don't just sit there and let it fucking happen. If you want him, go and get him. He's probably as mixed up as you are. Tell him how you feel. Make him a proposition. Least ways you'll know straight out. It's better than fucking waiting for nothing to happen 'cos you're too much of a little lady to set out your stall."

Jennie smiled. "You even sound like a Californian now! Your language is appalling!" They started to laugh and it felt good to remember how they used to be together.

A shadow fell across the table. Jennie looked up and saw Bud standing there unshaved and looking at Caroline in a threatening manner; Jennie had the sudden impression of a lion protecting his pride. He had his chin raised and his lips pursed; Jennie knew now that meant he was angry or uncomfortable. His hands were behind his back as if he was trying to restrain them, his legs were planted apart in a belligerent stance. Caroline calmly looked up at him and then down, indicating her lack of intimidation. As her eyes reached his groin, they lingered, a lewd smile playing on her face.

"Good morning, Mr. White. I trust you slept well?"

He did not respond. "You OK, Jennie?"

Jennie smiled. "Yes. Much better. We've talked things out. It's fine."

Caroline stood up to go, opening her purse and throwing a business card on the table. "In case you need to call me. I never like playing the gooseberry, so I'll dash off. Remember what I said, Jennie. Carpe diem, you know? Good day, Mr. White. You look after my sister or I'll fucking kill you." She smiled sweetly at him and turned on her heel, leaving the tiny diner with a panache that left the other customers somewhat startled.

"What was all that about?" Bud asked gruffly.

"Are you always bad tempered when you wake up? I think I better feed you," Jennie called the waitress and she ordered him some eggs and coffee.

He sat down and looked at her with a rueful smile. "I was worried when I woke up and read your note." He shrugged. "I just thought...maybe you were in some trouble. That goon of hers. Jesus Christ, Jennie, I woke up and you were gone." His words said one thing but his eyes said another. He had been worried for her safety but he had also been scared that she might have changed her mind.

"Oh God, I didn't think what it might have looked like! I just wanted to get her away from...us. She was saying things I didn't want you to hear." Jennie reached across and touched his hand; he immediately grasped it in his.

"Not impressed, huh?" That self- deprecatory half-smile again. 

"Her opinion is hardly one I'd take much notice of, Bud. Actually I think she's jealous. Perhaps she always has been. The problem is hers not mine and it sure as hell isn't you. You may even be the solution. Please Bud, let's get back to where we were this morning before she knocked on our door. That's where I want to be."

The waitress brought the order and they broke away. But their eyes did not.

"Are you always going to protect me from the bad guys?" Jennie whispered over.

He smiled and looked a little shy, shifting in his seat. "I hope you are. I could certainly use some one to take care of me."

"Just don't go playing Little Miss Fix-it without telling me. I'm a fucking detective not a mind reader," he growled back.

"Sure you weren't miffed because you couldn't get a bit of early morning 'how's your father'?" Jennie giggled.

"Say what? ' Miffed?' 'How's your father'?" He grinned. "Can you speak English, Jennie?"

"I think you understand perfectly well what I mean. Eat your breakfast. You need to keep your strength up. I have plans for later." She sat leaning her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hands, watching him eat, a saucy grin on her face and rolling her eyes.

"Jennifer Hargreaves- you are one horny lady," he smirked as he tucked into the plate of food.

"And you have some horn, there, Bud White!" Jennie retorted, slipping off her shoe to caress his groin with her nylon clad foot. He almost choked on his eggs but did not push her away.

It was the first real argument that they had ever had. Lachlan was generally easy going and eager to please; Jennie was young enough to defer to him in most things and still felt a little in awe of his confident maturity. But this time they had both been spoiling for a fight. For a few weeks their duty shifts had not connected and they had hardly seen each other apart from a snatched hour here and there. Today was the first full day they had had together and they were both rather keyed up about it. They planned to spend the day in Cambridge. It was a warm spring day as they boarded the train.

"What do you want to do, love?" Lachlan asked as they settled down in their compartment.

"There's an exhibition that I want to see at the University museum," Jennie replied.

"Oh, beaut," said Lachlan sarcastically.

"What's the matter?" Jennie inquired.

"Nothing." Lachlan looked out of the window of the train and idly traced patterns down the glass with his fingers.

"What do you want to do then?" Jennie asked, a little irritated. She never asked him to do anything, always letting him make the decisions.

"Thought we might get a room."

"A room? In the middle of the day? Don't you ever think of anything else?" Jennie answered, now clearly annoyed with him.

"Choice between walking round a museum and getting frisky with you, love - not much competition there." He ran his hand underneath her bottom and goosed her. She slapped his hand away.

"Stop that! People will see. I thought they put bromide in your tea - obviously  it's not working ! Jennie replied huffily.

"C'mon, Jen. Don't be such a wet Nelly! Let's get a room and I'll show you a work of art of my own..." Lachlan nuzzled her ear and fondled her breast.

An older gentleman facing them in the compartment coughed and fixed them a stare.

"See! He heard you. What kind of girl will he think I am?" Jennie pushed him away again.

"Who cares? You're with me, not him. Ah, c'mon, Jen. Say yes. I can't walk around all day with this newspaper on my lap!"

Jennie moved a few inches away from him. "I'm not in the mood for all that."

Lachlan exhaled sharply and lay back in his seat. He began to drum his fingers on the armrest.

"Stop that! It's getting on my nerves!" Jennie snapped.

"You're getting on mine. What's your problem? It's not that time of the month is it?" It suddenly dawned on him.

"Not yet."

"Bloody hope not. That's all I bloody need." 

Jennie stood up and marched out of the compartment, standing further down the corridor where there was an open window. She let the cool breeze wash over her and tried to keep her temper. In a few minutes, Lachlan burst out after her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, love." He tried to put his arm around her but she shrugged him off.

"But that's what you would have been thinking. Go away! That's all I am to you. You're no better than the rest of them. You just want to get your end away. Leave me alone."

Lachlan groaned and ruffled up his hair. "Ah, Jens. I didn't mean it to sound like that! I just want to be with you. I can't stop thinking about you. I dream about your body. It's like heaven when I'm in you..."

"Shut up!"

"Jennie! Ah, what the fuck...!" He slammed the wall with his fist. Jennie turned on him, her eyes blazing.

"Don't you ever speak to me again like that! Don't you ever dare use language like that to me..."

"You like it well enough in bed..." Lachlan retorted coldly.

"You...animal...!" She slapped his face.

The train was pulling into a local station. On a whim Jennie jumped out and ran down the platform. Behind her she heard the whistle and then the chug, chug of the departing train. Without looking back, she checked at the ticket office and asked when was the next train to Marham. It was late in the afternoon. She was stuck.  There was nothing to do on the station, so Jennie strolled into the local town, Downham Market, trying to pretend to herself that she was going to have a pleasant afternoon on her own. But there was nothing to do or see in the little market town. Even if there had been it was highly unlikely that she would have been interested.  Her mind was full of the stupid argument and her petulant behaviour. What did she really want most in the world? Lachlan. Naked. Making love to her. She felt as he did- why did she have to pretend otherwise? Her nights were full of dreams of him. She spent her days fantasising. Sometimes, while on duty, she feared that she was not safe - it was so hard to keep her mind on her work. But her stubborn pride had made her hurt his feelings and storm off.

After a boring trip round the local library, tea and a bun in the café and a stroll round the park- not to mention a good cry- she made her way back to the little station. On the platform, leaning back on a bench and dozing with his cap over his face, was Lachlan. He must have been there at least three hours.

"Lachlan! How long have you been here?"

He woke with a start, rubbing his eyes. "Dunno. What time did you jump ship?" He answered sheepishly.

"You've just been sitting here since then?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you come after me?"

"Seemed like you'd had enough of me." He winced a little as he said it.

"Why did you get off the train then?" 

"'Cos I wouldn't leave you, Jens. I've nowhere else to go." Lachlan leant forward, hands on his knees, and hung his head.

Jennie started to cry, trying to jam her knuckles into her mouth to stop her sobbing. Lachlan looked up and pulled her down to sit by him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I don't want to make you feel like all I want is your body. Christ- I love you, Jennie. In every way. I have so little time with you. I wish I could show you all the ways I love you but we only have a few hours. The only way that I can show you is in bed. What we do is like something sacred. Don't you feel it too?"

Jennie nodded. She stood up and pulled him to his feet, gently slipping her arms round his neck and lowering his face to hers."I want you so much it scares me. I try to be more ladylike but I can't. Lachlan, there's a small guesthouse in the village. Take me there - now." He kissed her deeply and then took her hand and dragged her off the station platform. She held on to her cap, almost running to keep up with him. Neither of them had anymore time to lose.

The proprietor of the Queen's Inn was a buxom Norfolk lady with a soft country burr. They stepped into the reception and Lachlan strode forward.

"What can I do for you, lovey?' She asked.

"My wife and I need a room," Lachlan replied. Jennie twisted round her engagement ring, the one Lachlan had given her on her twenty-first birthday three months' previously, hoping it looked like a gold band.

The woman smiled at them. "Double or two singles preferred?"

Lachlan cleared his throat. "Double please, love."

"No luggage, hey? Spur of the moment decision, was it?" Her eyes were amused. Jennie blushed and wished the ground would open up. "Right you are then!  Room 10. Up the stairs and along the corridor to the left. Bathroom's next door. Here's the key. Just sign the book." Lachlan wrote something and the woman's eyes crinkled. He winked at her.

Taking Jennie's hand, he picked up the key and pulled her along to the staircase.

"What did you sign in as?" Jennie asked curiously.

"Mr and Mrs W. Churchill." He grinned.

"Oh, Lachlan! She'll know."

"She knows anyway, love. And she doesn't give a damn. Jennie- there's a bloody war on- who the hell cares if we get a few moments of pleasure in the middle of all this?"

Number 10 was a sunny airy room with a view over the field beyond. It was also private. The owner had been thoughtful. Jennie looked around and began to relax. Lachlan stood by the door watching her.

"You OK now, sweetheart?" 

She nodded and gave him her best smile. Advancing on him, she ran her hands up his uniform jacket, opening the buttons and quickly sliding it over his shoulders but not off, trapping his arms by his side.

"I pretend I want to be a lady. But I dream of other things. Do you want to know what I dream of?" Jennie whispered seductively into his ear. Lachlan breathed in sharply; she could see the change come over him.

"What do you dream of, Jens?"

"First I want to strip you." Jennie undid his tie and the buttons of his shirt. She pulled his under shirt  up to his neck to uncover his chest and then she began to knead his nipples as he did to her, kissing and pulling them with her teeth. He leaned back on the door and whimpered.

Dropping to the floor, she unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his fly. Raising her eyes, she found he was watching her, a glazed look on his face. "Now I want to touch you." Jennie untied his boots and pulled them off, his socks following and then she yanked down his trousers, leaving them round his ankles while she returned to his body. She knelt at eye level to his groin and rubbed her face against him through his shorts, smelling his scent and softly biting his erection through the cotton. He moaned. Easing off his underwear, she grasped his cock, hard and silken smooth, slipping back the skin to lay bare the engorged pink head.

"Now I want to taste you."

Lachlan began to rock back against the door, little gasps escaping from his mouth, panting. His groin began to thrust towards her as she licked and then sucked gently on him. She looked up at him leaning back against the door, half naked, his clothes disturbed, his eyes closed, his entire body given over to the moment. She had never seen him look more like a beautiful animal, responding to some call of the wild.

When she had played with him enough, Jennie stood up and removed his upper clothing. He stood there watching her, jerking on himself as she stripped slowly.

"Now, I want you to take me like a wild creature." Jennie knelt down before him on the floor and dropped to all fours. For an instant he did not move then she heard him tear open a condom wrapper; he threw himself to his knees and stroked her slit from behind. She was wet, so wet, aroused by her own foreplay. Lachlan gasped, in a voice so deep and feral, "Fuck, Jennie!" and then he grabbed her by the hips and raised her buttocks until he could find her opening. She felt him steady himself and then he pushed forward with a grunt; she had never been filled like this. His hands roamed around her naked cheeks, running his fingers down the crevice until he found her tight hole and then he rubbed gently with his thumb as he pounded into her and held her left hip tightly.

He pressed her body down towards the floor, raising her buttocks higher and improving his purchase. Fully shafted, his balls thwacking against her adding to the sensation, he dropped to rest on her back with one arm supporting him on the floor. She felt his hand snake round her belly and burrow down until it found her clitoris lying open and exposed in this position. Jennie groaned as he laid siege to it; she could not escape his probing hand and as he rubbed her hard burning nub he began to pump her faster and faster from behind. She could hear his grunts; she could feel the sweat dropping from his body on to her own sweat-drenched skin.

She felt as though her body was a wet weeping hole that wanted nothing more than him to use and fill. All her consciousness was fixed on her loins; it was as if every nerve ending of her body only existed to send arrows of screaming pleasure to that place. She did not know what she was saying or doing. She would have been shocked had she heard herself. Lachlan heard her, through the mist of his own desire, and it drove him further. His last vestiges of control were ripped away as he thundered against her and burst into her. They crumpled together to the floor, shuddering and shaking, both unable to speak but clinging on to each other for support. Lachlan held her tight, almost too tight, but she needed to feel him, needed to be crushed in his powerful embrace.

"Lach? We can't go on like this. Let's get married now. I don't want to wait. They'll discharge me and I'll move into married quarters. We need to be together."

Jennie whispered into his ear.

"No. I swore I would never do that to any girl, Jennie. I will not take the chance that I might ..."

"Lach! If anything happened to you now- would it hurt any the less if we were not married? At least if we married I would be your widow. I would have a place in your life. What am I now?" Jennie begged. It seemed a terrible thing to say to him but she thought it might be the only thing that might make him see reason.

He turned to hold her. "You'd get a pension if you were my wife. You're right, Jennie. It's crazy to hold out. We could sleep together every night. Eat together. Bathe together. Wake up together every morning. Just sit and talk- get over this crazy need to fuck each other half to death in the few moments we have. That's how it should be, love. We'll do it. Arrange some leave and do it quick. Next month. Oh, sweetheart, you are such a clever girl! You know what I need. I love you, Jennie. So much. I felt like I couldn't take anymore but now I'm ready to go back. It can't last much longer. We'll soon be home free, Mrs. Curry." Lachlan beamed one of those amazing smiles of his and for that moment it was as if he did not have a care in the world.

"Thought I was Mrs. Churchill?" Jennie giggled as she kissed his face over and over.

"You prefer fat bald old men who smoke cigars?" Lachlan replied, weathering the barrage of wet sloppy kisses.

"Might do. What's his number?"

They rolled over and over on the floor, kissing and hugging. It was the best day and night they had ever spent. Two days later, he was dead.

She had two weeks. Two weeks to live a lifetime. That's what Jennie told herself when she lay in Bud's arms in her hotel room later that day. Maybe they would want to take it further. Maybe they would know it had just been a crazy dream. But for two weeks she would have him to herself. The end comes soon and swiftly enough- Jennie was determined at least to have some memories. But until then she would do what Caro had said  'seize the day'. She would do what Lachlan had said, 'have one of those moments'.

Jennie watched Bud as he slept, snoring softly. . Something always brought her back to his eyes, now covered beneath fluttering lids; he was dreaming. But his eyes! You could drown in pools as deep and clear as those. You could hide from everything that had ever hurt you beneath those waters. From their first meeting, she knew she had lusted after this masculine tough guy who had seemed to be the embodiment of the physical desire that she had buried deep inside. But now she knew him better, she recognised how far he really was from the sexual brute that her initial contact had made her assume he would be. In reality he was a gentle and skilful lover whose tenderness took her breath away. 

Where had he learnt that from? He had told her that he rarely formed relationships with women- by choice it would seem. He mostly slept with women of easy virtue, good time girls, often older than he was, women who knew the score and wouldn't give him any problems. Surely he hadn't learnt anything more than the mechanics of sexual intercourse from encounters of that nature? Perhaps Lynn had taught him how to please a woman - she wouldn't have wanted sex with him to be like it was with her clients. Or was it possible that some men just have it in them to give pleasure as well as take?

It was important to him to know he satisfied her. When they made love he wanted her to tell him how much he pleased her. It seemed to make him feel like a real man- as if he could ever be anything else. Was it all part of his insecurity that he needed to be loved and reassured that he was worth loving back? That now he was man enough to defend any woman and make her happy- all because once he couldn't save his own mother?

He had one strange habit; at least in Jennie's limited experience it was strange for a man. After they made love, he always wanted to talk where other men wanted to sleep. But after sex, no matter how wild and passionate they had been, Bud seemed to relax and open up, becoming almost confidential. That's when she learnt about the man inside and the things that made him tick. It almost broke her heart to know he had all this inside of him and more that he trusted her enough to let her know it.

At first, Bud was not adventurous sexually with her. He always took control and made love to her, giving her pleasure and then proceeding to conventional sex, missionary position only. Jennie wanted to experiment and was not sure why he seemed reluctant- she couldn't believe a man so skilled in bed had never attempted anything else.

One early morning as he came out from the bathroom and flung himself back down into the bed, Jennie decided to inaugurate some lovemaking of her own. He seemed as if he would slip back to sleep so she wriggled down and began to play with his cock. He smiled and let her continue. She bent her head and slipped his half erect penis into her mouth; he groaned and she continued, this time determined to make him come in her mouth. She was sure he wanted it but he always stopped her and pulled away when she pushed him too far. This time was no different. As he began to breathe more heavily he suddenly grabbed her head quite roughly and immediately pushed her away, rolling over onto his side.

"Don't do that!" He snapped.

"Why not?" Jennie asked. "Because nice girls don't do that?" She spooned against him and reached for him again, gently working him in her hand. "Answer me, Bud! Why not?"

"You're not a whore."

"I know that. Lovers do that too, you know?"

"I won't."

"I wasn't asking you to do it. It is me that wants to do it!"

"It's dirty."

"That's nonsense! You do it to me."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"I'm a man."

"This is a bloody stupid conversation, Bud." Jennie rolled him onto his back. 

"Do as you're told. You might even like it!" She joked and slithered down again. He grabbed her head, preventing her from making contact.

"Please, Jenny, don't. It's too much. I'll lose control."

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do, Bud?"

"I don't want to...I'm afraid..."

"Are you afraid you'll hurt me?" and she knew when she asked the question that she had her answer. He looked away. "Bud, please. I'm not made of porcelain. Yes, you are strong, but you're also gentle. You've never been anything but tender with me." She drew his face into her hands. "I always feel so safe with you, so cherished. Bud, I love you, and I trust you. Will you put your trust in me and let me try? Let me love you this way? You're safe with me, I promise; safe to let yourself go..."

He eased himself up to sit leaning on the headboard. "You want to do this? Why?"

Jennie thought carefully before she answered. "I want to taste you like you want to taste me. I want all my senses to experience you. When I love a man - I want all of him like I want to give him all of me. No one else can have that from me. No one else can give that to me. I want to learn, discover, grow. You can teach me. I'm not afraid of you.  Because I love you so much."

She had broken through his stubborn resistance. He pulled her to him and whispered in her ear: "Suck me, Jennie. Suck my fucking dick... I want you to do it so much... " he arched his back as she took him, widening his legs so she could reach him with her hands. He simply gave in and let her take command of him. It was a very significant moment. It was like the moment when a child trusts you enough to pick them up or an animal allows you to near enough to touch. The pleasure she gave him was nothing to what it made her feel to see him like this.

Curled up in his groin, his powerful thighs flanking her, thrusting himself into her mouth while she sucked hard and squeezed his balls, jerking him or running her fingers down the tendons where his inner thigh met his groin, she pressed on the muscle behind his testicles and circled his tight butt hole with her finger. He cried out and splattered into her mouth, so hot and fast that she couldn't swallow it all- it ran out of her mouth and stained her swollen lips.

As his movements eased, she gently licked him clean while he watched her. Suddenly he reached for her and pulled her to his chest- then licked his own residue from her face. They did not speak for a few moments until: "Lynn was a whore. I didn't ever want her to do with me what she did to the others. I don't want to treat you like I treat other women. My father used to ... I used to hear her cry...he made her do things, he didn't give a fuck if I saw.  How can I do things like that to you? I feel like a sick fuck even to think about it."

"You are not your father, Bud. You've a temper, but in your heart you are a good man who helps people.  If a man and woman love each other and treat each other with respect, if they both agree to behave in a certain way sexually and neither forces the other- then what they do is never abusive. You have to see the difference, Bud. There is a difference!"

Bud stared at her, his chest rising and falling in deep rhythmic breaths, as if he were struggling with some great emotion. "There are other things I wanna do, Jennie. I won't ever hurt you but if you want to try them..." Bud began.

Jennie snuggled down and let him wrap her in his arms. "Lynn knew what you wanted even when you didn't tell her. Maybe I don't have the radar to do that with you yet. But I won't be shocked at what you ask. Has it ever occurred to you that good girls feel desire too? We just don't hand it out to every guy who comes along. I want romance. I want tenderness. I want love. But I also want to let go and know passion again. Like I had with Lachlan. He taught me, he loved me, he never hurt me.  I felt safe with him just like I do with you. I've never felt that with anyone else since. Let go with me, Bud. Let me be all the things you need. Be all the things I need. I can be every kind of woman you want me to be but only for you- never for any other man. I promise. Whisper. In my ear- and I will tell you what I wish..." Jennie replied.

It was a turning point. A door opened and they could step through it, free from all the chains that held them to the past. No more regrets and second best. No, definitely not second best.

"Bud, what are we going to do?" Jennie was brushing her hair, seated before the dressing room mirror.

"Huh?" Bud was in the bathroom, shaving.

"I have two weeks on my ticket."

"Uh- huh."

Jennie raised her eyes. "Bud, don't go all monosyllabic on me. Answer me."

He came into the bedroom, drying his face on a towel. He started to ball the towel in his hands as he stood in the doorway and then he threw it over his shoulder. Putting his hands up he grabbed either side of the doorframe as if his body was finding the confines of the space surrounding him too small. Jennie watched him, unconsciously biting her lip. He was dressed only in a pair of pants and a white undervest; his brooding presence making her head spin when she needed to keep her wits about her and try to reason with his uncertain emotions.

"What are we going to do?" Jennie repeated.

Bud hunched his shoulders. "What do you wanna do?" He muttered hoarsely.

"Bud, I hate it when you do that! Talk to me! This is important."

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Wanna go away some place?" Bud asked with a familiar hesitancy, his voice a low rumble, hardly opening his mouth. "See California?"

It wasn't quite what she had meant but it was a start. He was giving them time and moving towards some kind of decision.

Jennie smiled. "Yes, that would be lovely. A real holiday. That's what we need. Time to get to know each other. Good idea - you've been thinking.-I like that, "she teased.

He grinned. "Yeah. Been doing a lot of thinking lately, Jennie."

"Goodness me, Bud, that must have hurt," she laughed. He threw the towel at her and growled, "You watch your step, lady!"  They both smiled.

So they took a trip and saw the state. Drove up the coast on Highway 1 to Santa Barbara and Pismo Beach, every night a different bed, every day another sight to open Jennie's eyes - the breathtaking cliffs of Big Sur, Steinbeck's Monterey, up through the giant Redwood forests, Big Basin, names to roll off her tongue and marvel at, then north to San Francisco and its quainter charms. They drove through the vineyards of the Sonoma valley and up into the Sierras of the Gold country to the casinos in Lake Tahoe.

Along they way, they visited little one-street western towns that seemed to Jennie to be right out of a cowboy film. She almost expected Johnny Ringo to step out and have a shoot out in front of the General Store. Jennie acted out imaginary scenes from films she had seen; play acting all the parts- the good guy sheriff, the man in black and the helpless female whose virtue had to be saved. Bud watched her and smiled. She was crazy. "Maybe you're the sister who shoulda been in the movies?" he observed.

On the final few days, they headed south and rented a cabin near Yosemite. It was strange to see Bud in that environment; he always seemed to be the archetypal city boy, but somehow he fit right in to the rugged beauty of the great outdoors. His unrestrained masculinity had space to breathe in that beautiful wilderness. It seemed natural to see him strip off his shirt and chop wood blocks for the open fire. Jennie could imagine him in an earlier America- his raw taciturn virility would have suited a solitary frontiersman, maybe even a gunslinger, the hero who faces off with the bad guy to save his woman. Jennie amused herself with her romantic notions.

By the last night before their return to the city, they were still no nearer resolving the unspoken dilemma between them, the real answer to the question 'What are we going to do?' It had been a wonderful trip; a time of deepening friendship, easy silences, comfortable togetherness, glorious sex and fun; lots of laughter. Bud revealed sides of himself that she had not expected: telling jokes, teasing her, expressing an interest in animals and nature that he had had when he was a boy, reminiscing about a trip he had made with other poor city kids to the park as a child of ten. But never once did he mention the future.

On that last night they sat on the porch as dark was drawing in and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her against the chill. Neither spoke but words seemed to hover in the air about them.

"I'm going home in two days, Bud."

"I know."

"I don't have to go."

There was a silence. Jennie held her breath. She could here the deafening quiet raising a chasm between them.

"You have to go."

He had said it. Jennie swivelled round and looked him straight in the eye. "Look at me and say that."

He met her gaze. "You have to go."

She gasped. "Why?"

"It would never work. You and me. Not in the long run." 

"Why not?"

He picked up her hand and rolled it in his own. "We've had this. More than I hoped for."

"We ought at least to try, Bud!"

He shook his head. "You deserve better, more than I can give you." Go home. Marry a nice English guy and have well spoken English babies."

"I don't want an English guy. I don't want English babies. I want you. I want your babies." Jennie blurted it out, unsure how he would react.

He stiffened and looked away, picking out a place on the floor to stare at. 

"Honey, I wasn't cut out for that kind of life. Can you see me in a little tract house with a picket fence? And kids? No way. Never."

"Why not - perhaps, one day? You'd be a good father..."

"You think so? Somehow I don't see that. Abused kids become abusive parents. Ain't you ever heard of that? I seen enough of that when I was a cop. No, Jennie. You and me- we've had our time. Go home. I'm sorry. I wish it could be different. That's all I'm gonna say."

He stood up and walked away. It was pointless arguing with him. In this mood he wouldn't even have answered her. Instead Jennie ran after him and circled his waist with her arms to hold him back. She heard him sigh.

"Let's go inside, Bud. It's getting cold out here. There's a warm fire burning. I won't waste any more time. Come in where it's warm and safe. For a little while longer."

Wednesday. They lay in bed, back at Jennie's hotel, until it was one o'clock in the afternoon. They had made love, then laid silent, fingers interlaced, legs tangled, trying to stay one. Then they had made love some more; this time in silence already desperate, gentle but hungrily, the yearning showing in their touch. The hours passed. The clock moved. You can't hold back time.

Jennie got up and ran a bath. Bud came up behind her and held her, his head resting on her shoulder. Without a word, they slipped beneath the water, she laying on him, he washing her. Then she knelt up and washed him. Everything they did registered on her mind. 'This will be the last time that we...'

They dried each other and dressed. 'This will be the last time I see him naked...'

He shaved. 'This will be the last time I watch him shave...' She fixed her hair and applied her makeup while he sat and watched her. 'This is the last time he will watch me do this...' She packed up the last few things; he checked the closet and cupboards. As she left the room, she turned back and looked at the unmade bed, still wrecked by their bodies. 'I will never sleep in his arms again.' They checked out; he carried her bags. They drove to the airport. The last time...

BOAC check in desk. Inane ground staff. Stupid questions. Jennie remote and reined in, Bud morose and silent, standing hands shoved in his pockets, looking restless, pulling at his collar, looking uneasy, shifting his stance, pacing, beginning to lose his cool.

Jennie walked over to him clutching her hand luggage, passport and boarding card.

"Wanna coffee?" he asked. 

She shook her head. She fussed with her boarding card and passport, fiddled with the clasp of her handbag, tried to fill the deafening silence between them. It was making her feel ill. She wondered if she might faint. She had to get away.

"I'm going to walk through that door and go. Now. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Bud grabbed her by her hips and pulled her roughly to him. He crushed her against him and kissed her hard while she slid her arms around his neck and held on to him. Her fingers brushed his neck, imprinting the feel; then she ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms and pushed him away. She touched the scar on his cheek as if to kiss it.

"Goodbye, Bud. I love you. Just remember that," she whispered. And she turned and ran. She didn't look back. She ran to the officer who glanced at her passport and waved her through. She ran down the long corridor to the departure lounge. She only came to a stop when she reached the gate and then she put her head into her hands and cried.

Bud walked away, his hands in his pockets, shoulders dropped, head down, his usual belligerent stride more like a shambling shuffle. He wandered towards the exit barely looking where he was going, blundering into people, unaware of their presence.

It began to rain as he hit the freeway and headed back to the city. Halfway there he suddenly pulled over and parked on the shoulder, wrenching open the car door and lunging out. He barely made it to the rough ground beyond the fence before he threw up. The rain was heavier now and he was getting wet as he leaned over and tried to control his heaving stomach. His face was wet - it wasn't the rain but his tears. "What the fuck have I done?" he raged.

In an instant he knew he had been wrong. Lurching back to the car, Bud ripped open the door, almost tearing it from its hinges. On squealing wheels, he launched himself back into the traffic, took the next exit, made the loop and hit the airport road. He had no idea what he was going to do. How do you get someone off a plane? Think of something. Failing that, jump the barricade and find her. He had to find her. He had to tell her.

Suddenly the traffic ahead began to slow until it reached a stop. Bud changed lanes sharply, ignoring the horns that indicated disapproval. But the new lane also came to a stop. He sat, unbelieving, while the whole freeway ground to a halt. Total gridlock. Wrenching open the door, he ran ahead to see what was causing the delay.

"What the fuck is it?" He called to a guy returning to his car.

"Truck overturned ahead. Must have skidded in the wet. Blocking the whole damn freeway. We'll be here all fuckin' night!"

Bud stared down the road in disbelief, the lights of the airport runway far in the distance, the planes circling in the air. He began to run hopelessly along the freeway, jogging through the rain, past bemused drivers, his eyes fixed on the lights ahead. He ran until his knee gave out on him and he tumbled to the tarmac. Howling with frustration, swearing loudly and profanely, frightening nearby travellers who thought he was some kind of escaped lunatic from an asylum, he lay on the ground, weeping in the pouring rain. He wouldn't make it. Her plane took off in fifteen minutes. He had lost her. It was over.

Hours later, Bud woke up and found himself slumped in a bar, a waiter roughly shaking him and telling him to move on. His mouth was dry, his eyes ached, his head thundered, his body felt cold despite the whisky he had consumed; he wondered if he had caught a cold - he was shivering and his clothes still felt damp. Staggering out of the booth, he stumbled to his car. Checking his watch, he realised that it was way past midnight. She'd be more than half way home. Deciding wisely he could not drive in this state, he threw himself into the backseat.  Fuck, he didn't even want to go home.

Light flooded in and woke him early. Bud sat up stiff and cold, his throat sore and his head burning. Kicking open the door, he lurched out and straightened his aching back. The street was empty; he urinated up against a wall and tried to gather his thoughts. It was six. He needed a shower, a change of clothes and something to eat. It was no point letting himself go again. He'd made a decision and he had to stick to it.  What would Jennie do? Drink herself to death? Go beat up somebody who was just unlucky enough to get in her way? Fuck any sad character who offered her some? She would pull herself together and get on with life, just like she always did. Maybe it was time he tried to brave it out instead of acting like a wounded grizzly every time life fucked him up again. Or he fucked his life up. Time to stop blaming every other fucking person. Time to face up to himself.

He'd hardly been home in the last few weeks. Home. What the fuck was that? This place was just where he slept and kept his clothes. It seemed even more depressing this morning. Bud showered in cold water, shaved, dressed and got the fuck out. Where to? Eat something. Now where? Office. No place else to go.

The door was locked and he fumbled with the key; his head still feeling a little fuzzy. He swung it open, dropped his keys, bent to retrieve them and as he straightened he saw it. A suitcase. Standing in the middle of the outer office.

Bud stepped in and closed the door quietly, feeling the blood pounding in his brain and wondering whether he was hallucinating- maybe he had a fever? Moving towards the inner room, he pushed the door slightly and it swung back. He fell to his knees at what he saw.

Lying curled up on the bench seat against the wall, wrapped in her coat and her handbag under her head, lay Jennie, fast asleep. He heard someone sob and then realised that it was he himself. The noise was loud enough to disturb the sleeping woman. She stirred and her eyes began to flicker open. It was clear that for a moment she couldn't recall where she was as she stared up at the ceiling and then looked around her. Suddenly it dawned on her- Bud's office. She gasped in shock when she saw him.

"Bud!"

"Jennie." He knelt and continued to stare. He stumbled to his feet and made it to the bench, dropping down beside her and wrapping her in his arms, clutching her roughly, unable to believe that she was real.  His kiss was desperate, relief and disbelief on his lips; he could not have spoken it any clearer.  Jennie pushed him gently away, to stroke his face and look at him.

"I didn't get on the plane. Well, actually I did get on the plane. Then I insisted they let me get off. I said I was ill. They were so annoyed because they had to unload all the cases to find mine. Then Immigration didn't want to extend my visa. I rang Caroline and she vouched for me. Can you imagine that? Porn star and they let her stand surety for me! She dropped me off here. I didn't know where you lived. Caro wanted to take me to her place but I said 'No, bloody thanks, darling.' The guy downstairs let me up- he recognised me- I said that I had left something here. I just sat and waited and then I heard a cleaner lock the outer door.... I had to stay all night. I must look such a mess..."

"But why?" It was all Bud could think of to say.

"Why? Why didn't I get the plane?' Jennie knelt down on the floor beside him. 

"I haven't got anywhere else to go. Not really. I can't leave you. It already hurts too much. If we don't make it- how can that hurt worse? I know we went too fast, too soon- but I don't think we're ready to say goodbye. If it hurts now as much as then, we might as well wait until then..." Her voice was catching, she was struggling with her words, trying not to cry. "Let's give it a try. I'll get a job, rent a room, maybe we can see each other sometimes. I wouldn't expect anything from you. I don't want to push you into a corner..."

"Be quiet, Jennie. My head's aching." He was breathing heavily.

 But..."

"Don't say anything. Just hold me." Jennie put her arms around him; he seemed to be shivering.

"Are you alright...?"

He put his finger on her lips. "I don't want you to get some dumb job. I don't want you to rent a room someplace. I don't want to see you sometimes." He kissed her neck and whispered in her ear. "I tried to go back to the airport. The freeway was blocked. Couldn't get through. Couldn't tell you."

"What are you talking about, Bud?" Jennie pulled away and stroked his forehead. He felt hot to her touch.

"I didn't tell you... I love you... I love you so much..."

"And?"

"Don't leave me. Stay." One word. More than enough.

Jennie stood up and pulled him to his feet. She ran her hands through her hair to tidy herself up. She fussed with her clothes and tried to straighten her skirt.

"Well?" Bud spoke first.

 She didn't answer. 

"Say something, Jennie."

"You want me to start crying?" Jennie choked and then she started crying and he grabbed her. Their lips met and it was as if the whole world went into a spin; both could only survive if they held on to each other fast. They stumbled back towards the bench seat, he shrugging off his jacket, she kicking off her shoes. They tripped over her hand luggage and staggered on, not caring if they were bruised or battered. Jennie fell onto the worn leather upholstery, Bud tumbled after her- they were half on the seat, half on the floor. Clothes were pulled off, buttons ripped- Jennie had to remove her own bra for fear he would shred it in his eagerness to remove it. They were panting and groaning, unable to decide which part of the other they most wanted to touch first, like two kids in a candy store where everything was free.

They hit the floor, Bud trying to roll Jennie over him to break her fall but only succeeded in ramming her against the side of his desk.

"You OK?" He gasped. For an answer, Jennie crawled on all fours over his body and kissed him fiercely whilst rubbing herself against his groin. He grabbed her naked buttocks and assisted, bathing himself in her wetness, groaning under assault. She seemed to grunt in frustration and then her hand grabbed him and she greedily forced him into her, plunging herself down with a cry.

"Wait!" He pulled out and began to look around for his jacket. Jennie realised what he was doing and they both scrabbled around on the floor searching for his wallet. They raked through pockets, the wallet fell out and spilled its contents all over the floor. Bud dived on a strip and tore off a rubber, swearing when he couldn't get the fucking thing open and dropped it on the floor.

Jennie grabbed it. "Let me!" she shouted; it sounded more like a scream. Her smaller, nimbler fingers did the job; she rolled it on, his hand covering hers. Both were panting heavily, Bud half sitting, Jennie on her hands and knees. Then they fell upon each other with a groan. Bud tossed her over, laid her on his jacket and pulled her legs open, she wrapped round him as he thrust into her. Both moaned - he deep and low, she more of a wail. It was like a signal. He dropped onto his hands, elbows bent and shuddered into her, she pulled his face to hers and they made love staring at each other until Jennie threw her head back, he cushioning it with his hands as she almost knocked herself out on the floor while he bent to kiss her throat, and they both came, muttering incoherently and whimpering into each other.

Bud slumped on her and continued to shudder, blood pounding in a head that was already aching from a hangover and the effects of sleeping in rain-soaked clothes. Jennie just moaned and sobbed, burying her face against his shoulder unable, for once, to speak. They lay there on the hard floor until their discomfort began to impact on their lust crazed brains.

Struggling up. Bud leant against the bench and gently eased Jennie against him; she curled up like a little kitten round him. He closed his eyes and stroked her hair. "Too quick," he muttered, his mouth now kissing her messy locks.

Jennie garbled something against his chest. It sounded like, "Any slower and I'd have killed you." He smiled and ruffled up her hair. Jennie began to giggle and rolled over lazily, stretching her long legs. "I need a fag." She hooked her purse with her foot and dragged it over, fumbling for her packet of cigarettes. Bud took the matches from her and struck one, she held his hand to steady her as she bent to take a light. Leaning back against him, inhaling and then exhaling deeply, she said, thoughtfully, "That's how it always begins. The touch of a man's hand. I touched you and I felt it..."

"Me too." Jennie's eyes widened in surprise. He had felt it too. The first time they had met. But she said nothing, simply watched the smoke rising and listening to the thud of his heartbeat.

Suddenly Bud snatched the cigarette from her fingers and stubbed it out on the floor. He rolled her over, his hands caressing her breasts, his lips grazing her eyelids, her ears, pulling at upper lip with his teeth, licking her throat and sucking gently on her tender skin. Jennie could hear his breathing changing again.

"Hey, surely you aren't...." She moved her knee and contacted with his groin,

"My God, again? He moaned and began to drop his head towards her breasts, pushing her hand and using it to hold his cock. She giggled when she felt him.

"For a man with a fever, a hangover and after only a few hours sleep, you sure are giving a good show. Ever considered a career in the movies? I have a really good contact...." 

"Shut up. For once just shut the fuck up. Let me love you..." Before she could reply he shut her up with a kiss; they returned to their enjoyment of each other, this time a little less frantic and with a lot more finesse...

The phone rang. It made no impression on them as they writhed around the floor. The insistent bell continued. Jennie put her arm up and scrabbled for the receiver above her on the desk.

"No!" Bud held her back.

"I have to answer it."

"Leave it!"

Jennie wriggled from his grasp and picked up the phone. She cupped her hand over the receiver and mouthed, "We need the money!"

Bud half sat up, trying to clear his pounding head. 

"Good morning. WW Investigations. How can I help?"

Jennie listened carefully, trying to rearrange her clothing with one hand. Her skirt was round her waist and she had lost her underwear.

"hat should be no problem. Perhaps you would like to pop in for an appointment? Mr. White is busy right now but should be free later. Half an hour? Shouldn't take him longer than that. He's sure to be well finished by then. Not at all. Pleased to be of service. See you later then...." Jennie was suppressing a giggle.

Bud dropped back to the floor with a groan, half dressed, trying to fasten his pants. Jennie replaced the receiver.

"Seems you have a client. Her dog went missing."

"What?" He was not amused.

"Only joking.  Not much difference really. Her husband has run off with the next-door neighbour and their savings. Sounds like this could be fun...."

"Since when you been my secretary?" Bud asked.

"You still hiring? I could really use a job. I'm broke." Jennie teased.

"Pay's lousy. You type?"

"Yes."

"Shorthand?"

"Er...no."

Bud exhaled and shook his head.  "No shorthand, honey..."

"What the fuck you need shorthand for?"

"Necessary qualification." He insisted.

"What about these?" Jennie slipped back onto the floor to join him and leaned over him, allowing her naked breasts to fall before his face. He caressed them gently.

"Can type. No shorthand. Fucking beautiful tits. Give you a trial. Coupla months. See how it goes." He grinned and tilted his head. "That do ya?"

Jennie knelt back on her heels as if considering his offer. "Actually I was thinking more of an assistant than secretary. Maybe even partner one day. Got plans for this place."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Oh yeah, Wendell." She enunciated the words slowly in a decidedly un-British accent.

Bud sat up straight. "Where did you get that?"

"Known all along. Asked Ed Exley the night he took me out for dinner."

"Huh? But why didn't you...?"

"Thought if I told you earlier- you might not have to marry me..." Jennie burst out laughing.

Bud feigned annoyance but grinning broadly. "Hey, I never said anything      

'bout..." 

Jennie grinned back. "Oh, but you will. Soon as I've loosened your tongue some more...."

Half an hour later, Mrs. Dolores Mulcahy arrived and Jennie showed her into Bud's office. Slipping out of the main door, she made her way to the grubby ladies' room down the corridor and attempted to wash and freshen up in the small sink. She needed a bath. Smiling at her reflection in the mirror and at the memory of what she had been doing only moments before the arrival of the new client, it occurred to her to wonder whether men had that same giveaway flush over their cheeks after sex. Jennie made a mental note to check Bud out when she returned.

Rummaging around in her cosmetic bag, Jennie suddenly came upon the small box that contained her engagement ring. She had worn it round her neck for ten years until something had recently made her take it off. Something? Who was she kidding? She hadn't wanted Bud to see it lying accusingly between her breasts when they made love.

Opening the little box, she took out the ring and kissed it. 'You'll always have a little bit of my heart, Lachlan. I'll never forget you. But it's time to say goodbye. I'm safe. I've found a good man. I'm happy. I know that's all you ever wanted for me."

Returning the ring and closing the box she buried it at the bottom of her holdall. Now it was just a memento of the past, a memory of a long time ago- her first love. She wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders, tossing back her hair. 'OK Jennifer Hargreaves- here you go, girl!'

Back in the office, clearing out the debris from the secretary's desk, Jennie heard the inner door open. A gushing Mrs. Mulcahy came out followed by Bud who looked on a short fuse, to say the least. The lady appeared to be somewhat tiresome, thought Jennie, although she did not for a minute imagine that was how Bud would have put it. Jennie reckoned that for once Bud's sympathies might rest with the husband. But after all, a client was a client.

"Mrs. Mulcahy. Miss Hargreaves. My secretary. She'll take down the details." He motioned for the woman to sit down. Jennie took a pad and pencil and smiled sweetly. "If you'd like to start at the top, Mrs. Mulcahy...."

Bud leant over the desk. "You'll have to talk real slow Ma'am. Miss Hargreaves don't do shorthand but she does have beautiful...." Jennie's head shot up, a look of abject horror on her face. "... handwriting."

He grinned at her and walked backwards towards his office, his index finger raised and pointing straight at Jennie. It seemed to say, "Gotcha!"

EPILOGUE

Bud looked up at the clock in his office. Eight fifteen. He'd been there since seven. Rubbing his eyes, he signed the last report and threw it in the out tray. On the desk before him were the photographs from the crime scene. He shuddered and slammed the file shut. Morning - he couldn't take anymore tonight. She wasn't going anywhere. He wondered what the papers were saying- the hacks had been crawling all over the place even before he left. Already had a name for the case- 'The Black Dahlia'. Jesus fucking Christ - how would this read over the breakfast table tomorrow morning? Bud thrust the thought of the mutilated body from his mind; he suddenly wanted to be home.  The office door opened.

"Couple of us going for a beer. Maybe a game of cards. Interested?" Sgt. Bauer stood in the doorway.

Bud pushed his chair back and reached for his jacket. "Rain check. Long day. I'm beat."

Bauer grinned. "Slowing down? Or maybe can't get enough of that that pretty wife of yours? Can't say I blame you..."

"Jesus Christ, Bauer. She's eight months' pregnant. Watch your fucking mouth." Bud punched him playfully. The two men laughed.

Leaving the office and glancing at the plaque on the door, 'Lt. Wendell White. Homicide.' Bud smiled and shook his head. Who would have thought it?

Driving home, he stopped at an all night store and picked up some flowers. He'd hardly seen Jennie all week since this new case broke - she had been asleep when he got home last night and he'd left in a hurry this morning after he'd been called out in the early hours. Throwing the flowers on the seat next to him, he drove the rest of the way quickly, suddenly eager to see her.

The house was quiet when he turned the key in the lock. As usual he removed his jacket and took off his gun holster, locking it in a cupboard in the closet; he hated the goddamn thing being anywhere near his home but he had to carry it. He could hear the noise of the TV set from the family room and he leant on the door. Jennie was curled up watching that fucking cop show she liked so much. 

Sliding into the seat beside her, she snuggled up to him and continued to watch the action. "He catch the bad guys yet?" Bud asked, his lack of interest evident.

"He always does. You could do with him on your team. He'd teach the lot of you some social skills," she smiled back.

Bud stroked his hand over her swollen belly, feeling the rippling of his child beneath his palms. "You OK? No running round?  Taking it easy?"

"Stop fussing. Everything's fine. Can't do much anyway - I barely fit behind the steering wheel. You eaten?"

"Yeah. Had something earlier."

"Supper? I can fix you something..."

He shook his head. "I'm beat. Just sleep."

"How's the case?"

He shrugged.

"Tell me about it." Jennie turned her attention from the TV to him.

"No."

"Why not? I used to be your assistant. Remember?"

"Unfaithful husbands and wives. Missing persons. Not this kind of nightmare."

"That bad, eh?

He nodded. "There are so many sick fucks out there, Jennie. I don't ever want you to know about shit like that. Especially not now. Just think happy thoughts, baby."

Jennie giggled. "You sound like a poster at the mother and baby clinic. But I don't think I want to know either. There's enough sadness in this world. Make sure you find him, Bud."

"Do my best." They lay back his arm round her, the TV flickering out some mindless advert.

"Mom, can I have a drink of water?"

Bud stretched his arm out and pulled his little son onto his knee. The child chuckled when he saw his father and bounced up and down.

"You should be asleep. You giving your Mom trouble?"

"No. I'm a good boy."

"You sure 'bout that?"

"Yes, Dad. Can we play some ball tomorrow?"

"Maybe not tomorrow, Joey. But soon, real soon." Bud replied, stroking the little boy's head, smoothing down the thick ruffled hair; at his age he should have it cut short, but Jennie wouldn't hear of it.

Jennie returned with a cup of water and the little boy took a drink.

"Thanks for the flowers. Bloody typical! You buy the damn things and dump them in the hall." She smiled and pulled her tongue out at him. "I've put them in water. And it was a lovely thought. Real sweet. But you know I don't need flowers. Got you, haven't I?" Their eyes met, they both knew.

"Really," Bud answered.

"Huh?"

"You are starting to sound like an Angeleno. Really sweet - British. Not- real sweet." He grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

Jennie threw a cushion at him."You think I'm taking elocution lessons from Bud White? Get outta here!" They both laughed. 

Joey watched them curled up on his father's lap, beginning to get drowsy.

"OK, buster. Back to bed." Bud swung his son up and carried him upstairs, talking quietly to him as he went. Jennie switched off the TV and the lights and followed them up. She felt sleepy but languid; she hoped that Bud was not too tired.

Joey settled, Bud entered their room and watched Jennie buttoning up the jacket of her pyjamas. "Here. Let me." He knelt by the bed and proceeded to pull open the buttons.

"I was going the other way, Bud. Thought you were tired," she whispered, throatily.

"Want to see you." He laid her back on the pillow and brushed aside the jacket, easing off the cotton trousers, which were unable to cover her round, stretched belly. He thought she looked more beautiful than ever, swollen and full of their child. 

Jennie looked down at herself. "Will I ever get my figure back?"

He smiled. " You look better than ever. Like a woman should. Soft, full, round -a man could drown himself in a body like that."

Bud continued to explore her hills and valleys, inexorably moving south. He nuzzled her engorged breasts and trailed a path of kisses down her distended belly, his hands ever so gently roaming down to part her legs, stroking her soft dark hair and brushing her inner thighs. Jennie sank back onto the pillow and let him love her. She felt his thick thumbs part her flesh and his warm breath blow a breeze upon her burning desire. His tongue licked its way and she gasped, his fingers softly penetrating her, making her surge. In silence he showed her so eloquently what he felt; it was not necessary for mere words to fill in the moment.

He held her when she reached her peak, afraid her intense reaction to his touch would do her some harm, unsure whether he should be treating a woman in her condition this way at all. But she wanted him and never turned him away. As she sank into a quiet calm, Bud rolled away from her but she reached out and pulled him back.

"Where are you going?"

"The bathroom"

"No, Bud. I want you. You don't have to do it yourself. Help me up."

He stripped and lay back, unable to stop himself from wanting her; holding her as she settled above him, lowering herself down with little whimpers as he supported her by her elbows and thrust gently to meet her. Gazing up at her, naked and swelling, he almost cried out at the wonder of it all. Sitting up, knees bent, he cradled her and braced himself against the bed, holding her hips as gently as he could while jerking slowly into her. She rested her hands on his shoulders and met his eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

"I don't want to hurt you." Bud gasped.

"You can't. You can only make me happy. Come for me, honey.  Give me your sweet love." Jennie smiled and rested her head on his shoulder, raising herself in motion with him. Slow, gentle loving. No need to hurry. All the time in the world. The best.