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There was simply no words to describe the fear coarsing through me as they pointed the guns at Dale. Smithy. He was feeling the exact same, shrinking backwards. Paling. Shaking ever so slightly. sSomething you’d only notice if you specifically looked for it. Not that i was analysing him, of course.
It wasn’t just the fear of Dale, Smithy, having guns pointed at him. It was watching him be so coupled up with Stevie. Wishing it was me. I kinda felt bad for Stevie, falling for a guy who would never love her back. I know how she feels.
Dale. Smithy had been on my mind constantly since we dealt with that grandfather and his grandson, a few weeks prior. I couldn’t work out what it was. Why my heart started skipping beats, and I thought it was just high heart rate from the job. When I suddenly struggled to speak when he was around. When I was thinking during the undercover that Stevie needed to get her hands off of my man.
It took for Stevie and Smithy kissing for the umpteenth for something to hit me. I liked Smithy. More than liked him.
The kindness in his heart, the lack of hesitation to jump into the job headfirst with no thought for what his poor mother would be thinking about why he had disappeared so suddenly. His passion for the job.
The last few days of the undercover, having that realisation, was sickening. The fear of him being injured crawled all over my skin. And obviously Terry wouldn’t be a good person to talk to because Terry has a wife. He wouldn’t understand that horrifying feeling of thinking you’re doing something so wrong.
The Church never outright condemned homosexuality, I don’t recall the Father ever saying it was wrong to be gay. But it was implied. Sometimes I’d feel I was letting the family, and the church, down when I let those thoughts about Dale in. But I realised also that I hadn’t stepped foot in a church for many years until a few weeks ago. Who was I really living for now?
11:49pm and I was still awake thinking about him. How he was in bed with Stevie, probably naked. Probably had sex. If that’s the path he decides to go down, then I hope he’s happy. If not, I hope he wakes up in the middle of the night and realises what could’ve been. Maybe he won’t even go down that path. Maybe him and Stevie really are just a show.
“If you need someone to sit in with you with the DPS, I’ll be happy to do it. I’ve had many grillings with them over firearms incidents”
“Thanks, Max” Dale smiled, and walked away. Running into Stevie. Of course.
The DPS offer, really Max. May as well have just asked him on a date at that point. I was too tired to tell that part of my brain to shut up.
Dale didn’t take me up on the offer, told DCI Meadows he wanted to do it alone. Apparently he was having a quiet night in too. Interrupt it, my heart urged. I was too lovesick to say no.
So that’s how I ended up on Dale’s doorstep with a bottle of whiskey. And tulips I found on his doorstep when I arrived. If he thought I was lying, he sure was good at hiding it.
“What’s all this in aid of, anyway?” Dale found a clear glass cup to put the “abandoned” flowers in
“Just thought I’d bring you a bit of a gift to show my appreciation for your help on this case. You risked everything Smithy. It’s got to count for something”
“You’re right, it has to.” He was pulling two glass tumblers from his cupboard. He set them on the table and I filled them half way with the whiskey I had brought
“To a job well done” I raised my cup
“To a job well done” Dale toasted, clinking his glass with mine
Half a glass became 2. Then whatever would finish the bottle. Then whatever Dale had in his house
“Still can’t believe I’ve got some money out of THE DS Carter. I thought this day would never come” Dale commented after a sip of white wine
“What can I say?” I shrugged. “I do have a heart”
“Do you?” Dale asked, shocked. He jabbed a finger at my chest. “I thought that space was either empty or had a rotten heart that was decaying”
“Maybe it is,” My brain was saying words before I could comprehend them, “maybe you’re the cure”
“Alright Mr Poet” Dale shuffled closer to me on his sofa, our legs just inches apart. His eyes were focused on mine, then fell to my lips. Then back to my eyes.
I always said I hated drinking, because I could have done anything. Maybe I regretted staying so long and getting so drunk. But I know I wouldn’t have had the confidence to kiss Dale sober. And I don’t think he would have made the first move either. Alcohol makes you do weird things. And it made us start making out on Dale’s sofa.
Quickly, quick kisses became longer, which in turn became more passionate. Dale used his tongue to force lips open, letting his tongue meet mine and the butterflies in my stomach swarmed at the feeling. Eventually, his hands trailed my body leaving me gasping his name as he explored.
Dale pulled away after a while, smirking
“Well, neither of us are going to sleep after that. So why don’t we make more use of my bed” His left index and middle finger were playing with my top button, verging on unfastening it. I reached up and undid his. His eyes halved down before returning to me, a look in his eyes I’d never seen in anyone. A pure look of love and passion.
“Well, how could a guy say no to such an offer, Dale”
Dale grinned, and pulled me up to drag us up to his bedroom.
We kept things lowkey for quite a while, let it settle down, so we could both get used to this new situation we were in. Nothing was official for while and it eventually just happened without spoken confirmation. Dale nearly killed me when I went undercover with a family my notorious for murder and drug dealing just weeks after that first night. He didn’t speak to me for days until it sunk in that he had done worse.
Telling family and friends was harder. His mum, Pauline, was great. She welcomed me with open arms. My parents weren’t even going to find out. At least not from us. Obviously HR had to know which meant Jack and Heaton both knew. It felt like Heaton looked at us differently after but maybe I was paranoid. Everyone else in CID and Uniform, we let find out from seeing us close together in the pub when we all went out for drinks, seeing us holding hands and talking close together in hushed tones.
Things weren’t perfect. They never will be. But we’re happy. And that’s all that matters.