Bronwyn awoke in a mess of sheets, Ciara snuggled close to her and the steady rhythm of her breathing told her she was still sound asleep.

She had no idea what time it was, but the light coming in through the curtains was dim and dreary, and she could hear the rain outside. As she crawled deeper under the covers, she felt the smaller frame next to her move and a soft, warm hand caress her torso. "Do you have to get up for work?" A muffled, still sleepy voice asked next to her.

"Good morning." She turned to kiss Ciara on the forehead.  The smaller woman opened her eyes and Bronwyn watched as she tried to focus, a smile forming on her lips.

"I like waking up next to you."

"Me too, but I should probably get ready for work, I need to get home and get some fresh clothes and a shower, I think."

"The things you can do in a shower..." Ciara's head disappeared under the sheets.

Bronwyn gasped as she felt her tongue on her nipple, still sensitive and a little sore from last night's escapades.

"You have an amazing sex drive! I want you to keep that in mind for later, perhaps? Right now, I think I am still a bit sore and exhausted."

There was a muffled sound of disappointment coming from under the sheets.

Evans sat at Harrison's desk, going through the latest reports that had come in. He had updated her on the toxicology report and the interview with the husband. It had been a difficult interview. The man had been torn between his Christian beliefs and an underlying disregard for his wife.

Leaning back in her chair, Bronwyn remembered her shower this morning. Washing away the scent of the night, she had still felt the lube between her legs. And her mind had drifted from their night together to Mrs Smith.

Now she wondered again who would be so insidious as to poison such an intimate object.

"Sir, have you spoken to him about the toys and the lubricant?"

He sighed, "Not yet, that's a conversation I'd like to have in person. I think we should go to Winchester later."

"Who would have the opportunity to poison their lube?"

Harrison shrugged. "Obvious choices, husband, lover, lover's wife?"

"Have we found a lover?"

"Not yet, and from what the escorts have told us, we may not find one."

Evans nodded. "It just feels like such an intimate way to kill someone and at the same time the killer couldn't be sure when she was going to use it next. Makes it pretty hard to plan an alibi."

Harrison nodded. "We need to find out more about her habits. If it's about her..." He searched for words.

"Self-love routine?" Bronwyn offered.

Harrison nodded gratefully.

Her phone buzzed on the table. They both looked at it and Bronwyn was sure that Harrison had been able to read the name that popped up on her lock screen. The moment she picked it up, her suspicions were confirmed.

"This bind girl can text?"

"You'd be surprised what she can do." She bit her lip.

Harrison picked up on her slip of the tongue immediately. "Don't tell me you started something with someone involved in this case?"

"Is she really involved?" "She's got an alibi, no motive, no points linking her to the victim except the phone."

"Yes, and she called the bloody escorts!"

Bronwyn sighed. "She gave us the tip about the lubricant."

"Right, and who's to say she didn't know where the poison was because she put it there?"

"Sure," she rolled her eyes, "the blind woman with no motive used her ninja skills to poison the lube!"

"Who says she doesn't have a motive?" he glared at her, a dirty smile forming on his lips. "Maybe she's the lover scorned?"

"But."

He held up a hand to stop her. "Before you say anything else, you mentioned yourself that it would be difficult to plan an alibi. We don't know when the nicotine was put in the tube."

Bronwyn frowned.

"Be careful who you bed." He closed the file on the desk. "Can I trust you to do a background check on her, or would you prefer someone else to do it?"

She looked at him, defeated. They had always had a good working relationship. She even considered him a friend. "You do it. But do it properly. And I will take on Mrs Smith's background and group of friends."

She picked up her phone, read the message and put it down without answering.

Ciara played with the phone in front of her. She had sent Bronwyn a message an hour ago and hadn't heard back yet. She tried to shrug it off, she was at work and probably just didn't have time for a lunch date. Besides, Ciara told herself, they should probably slow down. The last two days had been a whirlwind.

Maybe it had been too fast for her?

She frowned, not used to this kind of self-doubt, she found herself already much more invested in this woman than she had thought.

Ciara still had a few hours before her shift started and deciding not to put too much weight on an unanswered text, she turned her attention back to what Bronwyn had told her about Mrs Smith. Kneading her lower lip, her thoughts kept returning to her days at the Catholic school in Galway. And Mrs Winter. She decided she’d get to work a bit early and use her work computer to do a bit of research. The big machine was much more suited to her needs than the tablet she kept at home for domestic use.

Running background checks on the computer was Bronwyn's least favourite part of police work. But it was necessary. So far, she had discovered that Mrs Smith was the rich one in the relationship. Coming from an impressive lineage, she had taken her husband's name, and he had probably taken her money. At least that was Bronwyn's initial thought. She was pleasantly surprised when she checked the bank statements and saw that most of their finances were still held in her name. Mr Edward Smith worked for the trust that held the funds for Winchester Cathedral, he was responsible for building and maintaining. A bottomless pit, Bronwyn guessed, with such a huge building.

Other than the official records, neither of them had left any real digital traces. There were no social media profiles, no links to the hotel other than the rooms she booked twice a year.

Bronwyn sat back in her chair. If Ruby was right and Mrs Smith had only dared to use her little helpers away from home. Twice a year was a bit sparse. Maybe there were other hotels? Other escorts? Maybe the lubricant had been poisoned the last time she went away? She typed in new search parameters and let the program do its thing.

Evans picked up her phone again, Ciara's message was still open. 'Fancy a lunch date?' and a winky face.

She typed: 'Sorry, been swamped at work. Hovering over the send button for a second, wondering if she should offer an alternative, she just hit send.

Bronwyn felt terribly lonely as she took the tube home that evening. In less than three days she had gotten so used to Ciara’s company. She admired her calmness and strength, her sexual prowess and confidence. And she enjoyed not having to be the strong and tough one. Within hours, Ciara had revealed some of her deepest insecurities. Her lack of sexual experience and the fact that she had only been with two other inexperienced partners. She had never slept with someone so quickly before. For her, there was something special about Ciara. Now she hoped that this special something would last. Harrison had called her earlier, Ciara's background check had come up clean. But he had warned her again to be cautious whom she took to bed. He had put doubt in her mind. Now she had a heavy burden on her shoulders. Should she tell Ciara about the check or just ignore it?

This was a problem for another day.

Tomorrow, she had to go to Winchester with Harrison to talk to the husband again and do a personal background check on her friends.

She pulled out her mobile again. Ciara hadn't answered. She sighed. 'Tomorrow, Winchester. Brunch date the day after? Good night, Ciara Bach.' She reached her stop and left the tube.

As she opened her front door, her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fiddled with the screen, hoping for a reply from Ciara.

'Cyfrif yr oriau' Bronwyn laughed. Counting the hours. A clear case of Google translate, but it made her feel all warm and fuzzy that she had made the effort.

Making an effort, that's what it was all about.  She remembered her time in Wales, with her ex, not really in love, more together out of convenience because neither of them wanted to be alone.

She couldn't help but wonder how lonely Mrs Smith had been. From everything she had learned so far, it seemed she had been very lonely. They had found a few press articles mentioning her and her husband, usually about church matters, and in the few photographs they had found, it always seemed as if two strangers were standing next to each other, pretending to be polite.

Tomorrow they would talk to the husband and Bronwyn wondered how it would all go. He was a strong candidate for the killer. Even if Harrison was finding it hard to let go of the lover angle.

Last night Ciara had texted her the address of a café for their brunch. She had got off the train from Winchester, and having not seen or spoken to her all day, the little text had lifted her spirits. Expecting a brightly coloured, industrial-style café with lots of white and blackened steel design elements, she was pleasantly surprised by the more traditional look of the place. As she walked in, warm light flooded the room, cream sofas and armchairs mixed with more classic dark wood chairs and tables. There were even a few book nooks.

Bronwyn was a little late. And when she entered, she saw her sitting on a sofa, in a cosy little corner. Ciara was sitting the same way as she had in her office the first time they had met. Sideways on the sofa, one leg tucked under. Her arm rested on the backrest, her chin in her hand. Bronwyn marvelled at how beautiful she looked. The weather had changed and the golden autumn had turned cold and dark, so instead of the soft, thin chinos and blouse she had previously seen her in, she was wearing blue jeans and, of course, an off-white Irish knit jumper. Her hair was curled around the turtleneck, her cane was folded up and sat, along with her handbag, beside her.

As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't help but notice the looks the waitresses were giving Ciara. They weren't admiring her beauty, they were openly staring at her and whispering to each other. Bronwyn slowly approached the table. She didn't like the way the waitresses were behaving.

She knew Ciara couldn't see her, she was too far away and her head was turned slightly, but she still hoped for a sign of recognition on the other woman's face. For a moment she just took in the image in front of her.

Ciara turned slowly towards her, perhaps she had heard her approach or noticed the change in the light, but she didn't focus on her, it was more of a general look in her direction.

"Haia Ciara bach." She took the last steps towards the table, and it felt good to see the other woman's face light up at the sound of her voice.

"Bronwyn!" She turned fully towards her and stood up.

Bronwyn leaned in for a hug. Hesitant at first, she hugged the smaller woman rather mechanically, feeling self-conscious in this public space, but the moment she felt Chara's form pressing against her, she melted into her arms. "I've missed you." She whispered in her ear.

Ciara smiled at her as they parted. "It hasn't even been two days."

She sighed. "I know."

Ciara sat back down and motioned for her to sit next to her on the sofa. Bronwyn happily obliged. Looking at the small coffee table in front of them, she wondered if this seating arrangement was appropriate for brunch.

Ciara had adjusted her sideways position on the cushions, now facing Bronwyn, who mirrored the pose, close enough for their knees to touch.

She took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something." Her voice was more fragile than she had hoped.

Ciara tilted her head a questioning look on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe after I tell you." Bronwyn sighed. "I more or less slipped up, about us in front of Harrison. He didn't like it and suggested you as a possible suspect."

Ciara furrowed her brow. "Me?"

"Yes, probably just to push my buttons. He did a background check on you, before you ask, it came up clean, but I had to tell you. I feel we have started something, and I want it to continue. " She looked down.

Bronwyn felt Ciara's hand searching for hers and offered it, feeling their fingers intertwine again.

"Thank you for telling me.” A smile spread on her face, “I already knew. But it is a great sign of trust that you told me."

She looked at her in confusion. "You knew?"

"Yes." Ciara laughed. "His background check consisted of calling me, asking me again about the case, what I knew, what I didn't know before, my dealings with Ruby. After I answered to his satisfaction, he told me that if I hurt you in any way, or behaved badly towards you, or used you in any way, or even abused you, he would throw the book at me, and I could be sure that he would even make traffic violations stick."

Bronwyn stared at her, mouth agape, and Ciara squeezed her hand. "He's as protective of you as Ruby is of me." She smiled.

She was about to reply when she noticed a waitress approaching. "What can I get you two?"

Bronwyn looked up, "I'm sorry, we haven't even looked at the menu yet.”

“Oh ok, I'll come back in a bit then."

Ciara shook her head. "Do you still have that brunch for two? The one with the scrambled eggs and the croissants and the Austrian jam?"

The waitress grinned, "We sure do."

"Then we will have that." She grinned broadly. "For me with a large bowl of café au lait."

Bronwyn looked between the two women. "For me too." She added as the waitress raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ok then, shall I serve at one of the proper dining tables and call you when we're done?"

"You're a gem." Ciara's open smile won the waitress over. Bronwyn recognised her as one of the starers when she came in, but decided to let it go.

About twenty minutes later, their waitress asked them to follow her to a table set with plenty of food. The young woman watched with interest as Bronwyn took Ciara's hand on her elbow. She led Ciara to her seat and, with a strange kind of pride, explained the spread using the clock method. It occurred to her that the stares and whispers from earlier might have been nothing more than curiosity.

"Won't you tell me how the Winchester trip went?" Ciara took another bite of toast.

Bronwyn looked around. "Maybe later, there's a lot of people within earshot."

She nodded, another smile forming on her lips. "Then tell me, what do you mean you feel we have started something?"

Bronwyn immediately blushed. "Well." She began to pick up crumbs from her plate. "I hope so, at least. I feel very attracted to you. But I wonder, is there more than just sexual energy?" The last words were a mere whisper. The grin on Ciara's face told her that she had heard them.

"I can assure you, the attraction is mutual. Maybe we should just take it down a notch? Go on a few dates? Find out if we're only compatible in bed?"  She had also lowered her voice to a warm whisper for the last part. Bronwyn felt goosebumps forming.

"When do you have to be at work?" Ciara, instead of grabbing Bronwyn's elbow, had linked arms with her, staying close to the taller woman, her cane unfolded in front of her, a loose guard to the side, facing away from Bronwyn.

The cafés door had closed behind them.

"I have at least two more hours. Why? You got something on your mind?"

Again, a grin appeared on Ciara's face. "Oh, you know me, I always have something on my mind. But this time I'd really like to hear what's new in the case of Mrs Smith."

"I've got the car nearby; let's sit in it. It's at least a bit more private and warmer. And if you want, I can drop you off at home?"

"Thanks, but I'm meeting a friend in town later, so I'll be heading in another direction anyway.

Bronwyn felt a small twinge and looked at Ciara quizzically. A gesture she didn't notice, of course.

"Meeting a friend?"

Ciara snuggled closer to her. "Yes, dear. Meeting a friend." She stroked her arm. "A little bit of jealousy can be a nice thing but try to keep it in check."

Evans muttered a reply and Ciara stifled a laugh.

They had reached the car and she had held the door open for Ciara before getting behind the wheel herself.

"So, what do you want to know?"

"Everything." Ciara had turned slightly in her seat, but Bronwyn couldn't help feeling that it was only out of courtesy to her. It was a rather dark day, and the light in the car was even worse. But she had to admit, it felt nicer to talk to her when she was 'looking' at her.

She sighed. "We had to talk to the DCI in Winchester first. Apparently, we needed a lesson in treading lightly. This Smith is someone high up in the ranks of the Cathedral and the general consensus seems to be that someone killed the poor bloke's wife, and we should double up on the kid gloves."

Bronwyn couldn't hide her contempt. "Smith himself is a typical Bible-thumper. Very conservative, very stiff upper lip. Even though his wife brought the money to the table, he seems to like to be seen as the lord of the manor."

Ciara looked up. "His wife had the money?"

"Yes," Bronwyn nodded, "she came from an old money family but took his name when they married. Most of the assets are still in her name, but he has a monthly allowance on top of the salary he gets from the church."

"And you don't think the money could be a motive?"

"I didn't say that." Bronwyn smiled. "We still need to hear from her solicitor about her will and whether she had any prenups, although I don't think she was the generation for that."

Ciara frowned.

"We had a general look around the house, hoping to find some more information, maybe a diary or a Filofax, a calendar. She seemed to use her mobile only superficially, there were several conversations, but always very short and the typical appointments or reminders. Nothing really meaningful. The husband wasn't really happy about the search but understood that we had to look everywhere for clues. All in all, they seemed to be a really boring couple, the whole house looked boring, like with a greyish filter".

"What did he say about the toys?"

Bronwyn couldn't help giggling. "He totally freaked out. That was pretty much the end of the interview. After we collected some calendars and paperwork, we had to sit him down and talk about the way the poison was administered and the range of…" Bronwyn stifled another giggle and put on a very posh upper class accent, "personal pleasure devices".

Ciara chuckled. "What do you mean freaked out?"

"He absolutely denied that his wife was using any kind of toys, lubricants, pleasure enhancers. Although he had to admit that they slept in separate rooms, he blamed it on snoring and generally different sleeping habits. He struck me as oddly asexual, but then I am admittedly not as experienced with signs of sexual prowess in men. And we did find nothing remotely erotic in her bedroom, no back up toys not even a raunchy romance novel.”

Ciara's hand found her thigh and squeezed it lightly. "Could you say pleasure enhancers again, please?"

Bronwyn grinned. "Would that enhance your pleasure?"

Ciara shivered playfully in her seat. "Perhaps." She grinned. "But back to Mr Smith. What do you think of him?"

 Evans shrugged. "As I said, everything there was dull and grey and boring, including him, there was a lot of religion around, crucifixes in the main rooms, including the bedrooms. Framed photographs of churches and altars. Lots of books on church architecture, religion in general and Christian literature." She paused. She looked at Ciara and sighed inwardly. "I made air quotes with the Christian literature."

"Ah, thanks." Ciara smiled and squeezed her thigh again. "What about her? Did you find her personality anywhere?"

"What do you mean?"

"So far it feels like he is really the religious one, although she probably had strong religious views too. But his job is with the church, the way you described his reactions, that he wanted to pray with Harrison. I was just wondering if you found any items in the house, apart from clothes and make-up and the like, that you could identify as her influence?"

"Yes." Evans nodded slowly. "The architecture books were probably hers, there were also some exhibition catalogues and art books that I would attribute to her. But other than that, it was all pretty general. She didn't really have a job, she was a stay-at-home mum at first, and later she did all the voluntary things that rich ladies do. Apparently the local library was her favourite place. She volunteered there twice a week".

"Did you find any diaries? You said you collected papers."

"No diaries, but some loose paperwork, and calendars. That's my job for this afternoon, sorting through papers and checking her PC. She had an old desktop computer. Looks like the thing is ten years or older."

"And his PC? I suppose he had one too?"

A notebook, he told us it was a work notebook, we packed it anyway, it's maybe a bit newer. But nothing modern. Those will also be part of my afternoon entertainment." She sighed.

Ciara stirred, "Speaking of entertainment, what time is it?"

"Almost one."

"Oh, then I should hurry."

"Can I take you somewhere?"

"I'm meeting my friend at the British Museum, I don't think you want to go there at this time of day. But if you can drop me off at Farringdon, I can hop on the Elizabeth to Tottenham and walk the rest."

Bronwyn tilted her head, "Will you be OK on your own?"

"Yes. And you?" There was an undertone in Ciara’s voice.

Bronwyn got the hint, she smiled and nodded. "It will be difficult, but I can manage." She started the car and put it into gear.

"Do you want to meet for a nightcap later?" Ciara's hand still rested on her thigh. Her finger was drawing little circles on the fabric of her trousers. As she pulled into a short stay car park outside the station. "Sounds tempting."

"Tempting enough?"

Bronwyn sighed. "I'll probably take some work home with me and work late anyway. And to be rewarded with some quality time after a long day's work…" She took Ciara's hand and squeezed it. "Yes, tempting enough."

"If you want, you can come to the hotel and use my office couch as a workstation. It's probably going to be a slow night anyway, and if you want, I can help a bit."

"I think I can manage on my own, thank you very much." There was a hint of amusement in Bronwyn's voice. Ciara smiled. "Touché, but the offer still stands. We could at least work in each other's company."

"I'll call you later. For now," she looked past Ciara. "I'm parked right outside the station, if you want to catch the train to Tottenham you've got about five minutes. The main entrance is straight ahead."

Ciara smiled, reached for Bronwyn’s head, touched her face and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks."

She watched as Ciara got out of the car, unfolded her cane and took the first steps towards the station door. She waited for the sliding doors to close behind her and started the car again. She was already looking forward to their evening together at work.