So, here it is! The final chapter! Thanks to you all for sticking with it, I've had so much fun writing this, I only hope you enjoy this final instalment! I've had to rate this chapter M for sexual situations so please don't read this if you're offended by that type of thing or if you're under 16. As always, Waking the Dead and its characters belong entirely to the BBC – I just take them out of their comfort zones but I promise to return them unharmed! :) x

Nine days later, 9pm

Grace pulled the soft lilac dressing gown about her naked body, wincing slightly in pain as the material caught the bandage that ran the breadth of her chest. She swore under her breath as she sank onto the settee, tucking her feet beneath her and taking a large sip of her red wine, adjusting the dressing gown to cause minimum discomfort to her skin. She had been discharged from the hospital the previous day, with strict instructions to rest, a topic on which her children had been unrelenting, the three of them accompanying her to her house and effectively tucking her into bed. She smiled slightly at their dedication, aware of vague memories of their constant presence during her time in the ICU drifting in and out of consciousness. It had been touch-and-go for a while, she knew. The doctors had talked of three blood transfusions, of a severe infection at the wound site...She sighed shakily, recalling the worried frowns on Mel's and Frankie's foreheads during one of her brief periods of lucidity, Spence's brooding expression as he gently held her hand. Boyd had been notably conspicuous by his absence, her only memory one of his retreating back as her eyes had flickered momentarily open. She sighed again, suddenly too exhausted to organise her feelings on the subject, taking another draw from her glass.

A gentle knocking on the front door broke her from her thoughts then and she rose from her seat, frowning, pulling the cord of the dressing gown more tightly about her body to preserve her modesty before moving into the hallway.

"Hi." He said softly as she opened the door, his eyes flickering over her body as he noted her state of undress, a bottle of wine in his hand.

Grace folded her arms across her chest and leant against the door frame, torn between irritation and excitation at his presence on her door step. "You never heard of a phone, Boyd?"

His expression darkened, guilt flooding his chest at his intrusion into her private space. "I'll go..."

He turned to leave but she called after him, pushing her doubts to the depths of her stomach. "Since you're here..."

He looked at her, his body still half-turned from hers, slightly uncertain. "Since I'm here...?"

"Well, you might as well bring the wine in."

She paced back down the corridor and into the living room, sensing his presence behind her and she gestured for him to take a seat on the settee. "Would you like a glass?" She asked. "I've got a bottle open."

He rose from the chair once more. "I'll get it, Grace."

She sighed irritably. "I'm not an invalid, Boyd. I think I can pour a glass of wine without any assistance."

He took a breath to speak but the words caught in his throat. "Yeah. Sorry."

She disappeared from the room briefly then, reappearing moments later with a large goblet of burgundy wine, which she handed to him before taking a seat beside him on the couch, subconsciously pulling at the material of her gown to ensure it was fully enclosing her skin. For a full minute, neither spoke, each mulling over their own thoughts, listening to the regular ticking of the clock standing in the corner. Finally, Boyd broke the silence.

"How are you, Grace?" He asked, his voice quiet, unable to meet her gaze as he spoke.

"I'm fine." She replied, the volume of her voice matching his.

"You in pain?"

"No, not really. It comes and goes."

"Good. I mean...I'm glad it's not too painful."

Grace winced at the stilted words and stifled a sigh as she watched him take a sip from his wine. "Thanks for the flowers, by the way." She said, attempting to change the subject, gesturing at the bright array of lilies and roses adorning her mantlepiece.

Boyd looked blankly at her as he followed her gaze, his brows knitting together. "What?"

She gave him a small smile, a slight thrill in her chest as she teased him. "Oh, I see. I take it Frankie and Mel organised them and you and Spence just signed your names at the bottom of the card?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Something like that."

"Well, they're beautiful. Tell the girls, will you."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence once more, Grace fingering the contours of her wine glass, tension coiling itself tightly in her stomach in anticipation of his next words, noting his hunched shoulders, the oppressive bleakness of his demeanour.

"Look, Grace, I..." He began softly, breaking off abruptly and sighing in frustration as he turned in his seat to face her.

Grace held up a hand, her palm towards him. "You don't have to say anything, Boyd. It's not your fault."

"It's my responsibility. I should never have let you come to the scene."

She tried a small smile, which she knew didn't reach her eyes. "As I recall, you tried to stop me..."

"I should've insisted."

"You did. I made the decision, Boyd, it had nothing to do with you..."

"I'm sorry, Grace..."

"...and, as it turns out, it was a pretty lousy one. Obviously my negotiating skills aren't quite what I thought they were." Her voice had taken on a hardened, bitter edge and she had to fight desperately to keep the words from catching in her throat. "So, there's nothing for you to be sorry for, all right? This one's all down to me. Susan's death is all down to me."

She took a shaky breath, attempting to regain control over the spiralling emotions that were churning in her chest. Boyd sighed, moving imperceptibly closer, overcome with a desire to touch her but unsure of the boundaries existing invisibly between them.

"Susan's death is down to Matthew Edwards, Grace. It's as simple as that."

"I should've been able to stop him..."

"I don't think anyone would've been able to stop him. You put your life on the line for Susan, she would've realised you were trying to help her."

"But it was all pointless in the end, though, wasn't it." She said flatly, weary resignation settling in her tone. "We found Susan alive after forty years missing only for her to be killed by the same psychotic bastard who murdered her sister all those years ago. It's just...it's a tragic irony of the worst possible proportions."

He shook his head and placed his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb gently across her skin. "It's not your fault, Grace..."

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly, pain flashing across her features. "I'm not sure that really makes me feel any better, Boyd, to be honest."

"Would anything?"

Grace blinked rapidly, stinging tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "No." She admitted quietly, pulling her hand from beneath his, the guilt in her conscience forcing her to dismiss his attempt at comfort. "I don't think it would."

"Her funeral's in two days, maybe going to that..."

"I don't know. Maybe."

"See how you feel."

She nodded, taking a deep, steadying breath, savouring the quiet in the room briefly before speaking again, needing to move the subject away from Susan and her untimely death. "So, I hear you had a run-in with my daughter." She said, unable to stop a slight smile flickering across her face at his instant grimace.

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Care to elaborate? I've only heard one side of the story so far."

Boyd looked at her. "What did she say?"

Grace shrugged, careful to keep her tone light, despite the layer of hurt in her chest. "Something about her telling you that you should've spent more time in the hospital when I was in the ICU..." He started to respond but she instantly cut him off, her palm raised in defence. "I'm not judging you, Boyd. I'm sure you had your reasons. Gina can be hot-headed and stubborn, she..."

"She called me a selfish coward..." He said softly, unable to meet her gaze.

"Ah."

He sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling slowly, his head dropping backwards to rest against the settee. "As it turns out, she was right. On both counts."

"How do you mean?" She asked.

He paused, taking a sip of his drink as he pondered his next words, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. "I did come to see you in the ICU..."

"I know. I remember." Or, at least, I remember you walking away...

"...But...I couldn't stand to see you like that. Couldn't stand that it was my fault you were there." His voice was barely audible, gravelly in his chest.

"We've been through this. It wasn't your fault..."

"So I walked away." He broke off and swallowed, fighting down the guilt. "I walked away, Grace, and I didn't go back."

"It doesn't matter, Boyd..." She was almost whispering now, emotion pressing on her throat as she absorbed his words.

"At first Gina accused me of not giving a shit. And then I think she realised that it was because I gave a shit that I couldn't face..." He sighed shakily. "Which is where the selfish coward thing came in."

"You did what you needed to do..."

"I did what was best for me. But I never thought about what was best for you."

"I was unconscious most of the time, Boyd. I wouldn't have wanted you there hovering over me..."

"I thought I was going to lose you."

His gentle admission made her breath catch in her chest and she felt tears well suddenly in her eyes as he reached out a hand to take hers again, their fingers naturally interlacing, learning the feel of her skin beneath his. "Don't do that to me again." He said softly, the intensity in his obsidian eyes almost overwhelming her.

She gave him a watery smile. "I've got no intention of doing it again."

"Good. Because I don't want to have to answer to your daughter for a second time."

Grace laughed quietly. "Once was enough, eh?"

"She's got a tongue on her, that one."

"She takes after her father."

He gave her a sideways glance, noting the gleam in her eyes. "Of course she does."

They fell into a companionable silence then, their hands still joined in Grace's lap, Boyd's thumb tracing lazy circles across her knuckle before turning her hand over to continue his ministrations across her palm and the inside of her wrist. Grace let her eyes flutter close, his simple yet unexpectedly erotic actions causing delicious tingling sensations to crackle through her skin.

"Grace?" He said eventually, after several moments had passed, his palm moving to rest against her thigh as he turned his body towards hers.

"Hmm?" She found she couldn't articulate a more appropriate response as his fingers began to tease her leg through the thin material of her dressing gown.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

He grinned suddenly and shook his head in disbelief, gesturing with his free hand at the one exploring the length of her thigh. "Are you being serious? Am I not coming onto you strongly enough here?"

She laughed briefly before sobering again, sadness pervading her expression. "I thought we talked about this before. It can't happen, Peter."

The use of his first name made his heart jump sharply in his chest. "So, what would you do...if I kissed you, Grace? Right now."

She swallowed hard at his words, trying to slow the thunderous pounding of her heartbeat. "You've kissed me before, remember?"

"I don't think that really counts, do you?"

"Why not?"

"Because that was accidental. This would be very much on purpose."

"Boyd..." She reverted back to his surname, back into her comfort zone, her mind screaming at her to put some distance between them before the situation got out of control.

"Why don't we just try it? If you're not enjoying it, if you feel uncomfortable, just tell me and I'll walk away and never mention this again, all right?"

"I don't know, Boyd. There's a lot at stake here, it's not just about the two of us."

"I know that. But I also know that I don't want to wake up in twenty years time wondering 'what if'. Especially after all that's happened." He gestured towards her chest, to where the top of her bandage was just visible beneath her gown.

She gave him a rueful smile. "Nothing like a near-death experience to focus the mind, eh?"

"Not just the mind, Grace."

His gaze was intense, the subtext of his words abundantly clear and Grace felt the last layers of her resistance melt suddenly and dramatically away as he moved towards her, his hand sliding up her arm and shoulder to cup her face. His fingertips stroked her cheek gently and she leaned instinctively into his touch, bringing her own hand up to cover his, moving his hand to her mouth, her lips brushing a brief kiss against his palm, the soft skin of his wrist. She heard him moan, low in his chest, as he pulled her head tenderly towards his, their lips meeting in a teasing kiss. Grace gasped against his mouth at the unexpected intensity of emotion across her chest and she groaned with pleasure as he seized the opportunity to kiss her more deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with almost agonising dexterity. She returned his kiss enthusiastically, arousal coursing hotly through her bloodstream as her tongue tangled effortlessly with his, his taste intoxicating her senses, her mind clouding into a red haze of desire. His hand was sliding slowly, sensually down the length of her frame, tracing a path along the side of her neck then slipping lower and, despite the lustful yearning of her body, she felt herself tense as he palmed her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple. He read her body language immediately and pulled his hand gently away, his breathing ragged, his pupils almost completely dilated as he looked at her.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked throatily, conscious of her injuries and the recent proximity of his hand to her wound site.

"No., I..." She replied, her voice breathless as her heart thudded almost painfully against her ribcage, conflicting emotions battling for supremacy inside her mind.

"Do you not want to do this, Grace?" His voice was husky, thick with arousal and she watched him take a heaving breath, trying to bring his blood chemistry back to equilibrium.

She kissed him briefly, slipping her tongue suggestively into his mouth to assuage his doubts. "It's not that." She said as she broke away, sighing.

"Then, what?" He asked, his eyes searching hers intently.

"It's just..." She closed her eyes momentarily before looking directly at him. "It's been a long time for me, Peter."

He gave her a slight smile, relief pulsing through his body at her words. "For me, too." He replied sincerely, leaning in to stroke her face again, his thumb tracing the sensuous curves of her mouth.

"No, I mean a really long time."

"Grace..." He murmured as he kissed her anew, her tiny sigh of pleasure at his actions sending shockwaves through his body. "Just relax..."

He slid his hand back to her breast then, thrilled at the change in her breathing as he teased her nipple through the flimsy material of the dressing gown, her body arcing naturally towards him, pushing herself further into his palm. His lips nibbled the sensitive skin of her throat before moving to trace her earlobe with his tongue, mumbling a torrent of words against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"Just relax...and let me...let me love you."

The whispering of his name on her lips turned rapidly into an enthusiastic groan as his hand slid beneath the fabric of the dressing gown and slipped easily between her legs.

Grace blinked slowly awake, watery winter sunshine filtering through the small gap in her curtains, and she reached for her alarm clock, trying to decipher the red digits as her mind gradually rose more fully to alertness. A low, irritated groan sounded from beside her then and she felt her arm being pulled once more beneath the bed clothes, her back landing flush against his chest, his arms completely encircling her. She grinned at his actions, happiness fluttering uncontrollably in her chest.

"Good morning." She said, placing a gentle kiss on his forearm, enjoying the slight tickle of his hair against her mouth.

"Morning." He mumbled against her neck, his voice still thick with sleep, his naked body comfortingly warm as it held hers tightly.

"It's almost eight o'clock, you know." She said softly. "Hadn't we better be getting up for work?"

He groaned again, pulling her ever closer towards him, letting her feel his readiness. "I can think of something I'd much rather do..."

She laughed. "Did I go to bed with Peter Boyd and wake up with an alien? I can't believe there's anything you'd rather do than go to work."

"Well, stay here for five minutes and let me show you..."

"Five minutes? Boyd, really..."

He laughed, his breath warm against her skin. "I could probably manage ten, you know. Even at my advanced age."

"Oh, I know. I got a pretty good idea about that last night, as it happens."

"Not bad for a couple of out-of-practice old-timers, eh?"

"I don't have any complaints."

She smiled, recalling the events of the previous night with a warm glow, their love-making tender and intensely pleasurable, an intimacy surrounding his touch that she had only ever felt before with her late husband. God, I'm so in love, it's sickening, she thought as her grin widened.

"Besides," He was saying, rolling over onto his back and moving her so that she lay against his chest. "you're not going anywhere. I don't want to see you for at least another couple of days."

"Oh, that's nice."

He rolled his eyes. "At work, I mean."

"I really am fine, you know. I could probably come back today."

"No. I'm putting my foot down, Grace."

She laughed loudly. "Don't get too used to that."

He groaned theatrically. "Please. I don't want to get into an argument about the pros and cons of trouser-wearing this early in our relationship, do you?"

Grace gasped in mock horror although she felt her heart leap at his sentence. "You used the r-word, Peter."

"Yes, I did. I can be a grown-up sometimes, you know."

"When it suits you."

"Absolutely."

She smiled and stretched up to kiss him, revelling in their banter. "You should get moving." She said as she pulled away reluctantly. "Don't want the team thinking you're slacking off."

He looked down at her, grinning. "Is nagging par for the course, then?"

She returned his grin and shrugged. "You're the one who used the r-word. Gives me free licence to nag whenever I like."

"Oh, God, I'm getting up. Right now."

Grace laughed as he threw back the covers and rose swiftly from the bed, watching his naked form appreciatively as he walked towards the bathroom and turned on the shower. She gave a contented sigh as she settled back down under the tangle of bed clothes, her mind settling on her plans for the day before being distracted once more by notions of Boyd. I can't believe all it took was four years and one of us nearly dying to work out what we wanted... She sobered slightly at the thought but forced the maudlin feelings to the pit of her stomach. Well, better late than never, I suppose. The grin that spread slowly across her features remained firmly in place for the rest of the day.

FIN