Fixed by Homeric

Zoe gives up on the idea of giving Harold a shower. He's obviously in pain and too tired to stand up for long; a bath would be ideal but she's pretty sure that he'd either fall asleep or be unable to get out of the small tub afterwards. Slight of build he might be, but Zoe knows that she's not strong enough to pick him up by herself even if he'd let her, and if she had to ring John for help it would cross a line all three of them had become comfortable with by not acknowledging to each other. Instead she gives him his pain pills, helps him to the bathroom and wads a towel up before placing both it and Harold on the toilet seat.

She kneels down and undoes the laces of his shoes before removing both of them and his socks. He brushes a hand lightly over her hair, and Zoe nuzzles his knee with her cheek.

Don't try and run your hands through my hair unless you want to get your fingers stuck though, mister. She smiles at the idea and kind of wants to find a brush. Or a comb. Or an appointment with Marion at the hair salon who only has to look at her hair to subdue it into silky submission.

He settles for resting his hand on the nape of her neck, however. When she looks up his eyes are half closed. Those clever blue eyes watching her blearily from beneath dark lashes. Removing the rest of his clothing is easy, although Harold grunts with pain when he has to lift his hips for her to get his pants and boxer shorts off. Zoe resists the urge to dump the armful of clothing in the trash and puts it in the laundry bag instead.

Bear watches her curiously but that's alright, he's only halfway through demolishing "Breaking Dawn" and so isn't likely to start on the rest of the young adult section of the library before Reese gets back. He's got food, he's got water in what is probably a fake Ming Dynasty era bowl. She gives him a scratch behind the ears before hunting through the drawers in Harold's little bedroom and finding a t-shirt and boxer shorts. Zoe doesn't really care about Harold's scars, but he does, and while she prefers to sleep naked it's an anathema to him.

The little bedroom in what was probably a storage room isn't much. A big bed with an ancient frame and a bespoke mattress. No books, no trinkets. There's a little side table made of dark wood but nothing is upon it. Zoe turns up the sheet and blanket, smoothing down the material. Expensive Egyptian cotton and a quilt that could have either been inherited or bought at a craft fair. The room is warm, the light through the window golden and softening the edges of the sturdy but not elegant bed.

Despite the ancient plumbing in the library it doesn't take long before the water runs hot into the sink. Zoe strips down to her underwear, partly because Gucci is Gucci even if it is wrinkled and the dog has drooled on it, but mostly because she wants skin against skin when it comes to Harold.

"Zoe, don't." He tries to take the washcloth from her hand when she starts to clean him up. "I can do it."

For a moment she wavers between wanting to help him and acknowledging that the last thing he needs is to have is his control taken away again. Zoe gives him the cloth and doesn't watch while he cleans and dries himself. He doesn't need her help to get dressed.

The tiles on the bathroom floor are cold beneath her bottom when she sits down, the reflection of the top of her head in the mirror above the sink just that little bit so skewed that she shakes her head slightly to make sure that this isn't a dream.

But maybe it is.

Nope.

When she lifts her head and looks again at the mirror she's got dark circles under her eyes and her hair is a mess. She wouldn't dream that. She wouldn't dream Harold watching her from a toilet seat with quietly amused patience either.

"Zoe." His voice is soft, kind. "I'm tired and I'm sure you are too."She takes his hand when he holds it out to her and leads her hesitantly to the bedroom. Bear doesn't take much notice, but then unless there was an immediate threat he wouldn't. Once they're tucked beneath the covers Zoe curls up behind him and lets Harold take her hand and press it against his chest. His skin is cool to the touch, his short hair tickles her cheek and is a little abrasive, but she nuzzles her cheek against the nape of his neck anyway.

"Don't go." His voice is so quiet that she wouldn't have heard it if she hadn't been so close.

With the light fading from the window with the curtains she hadn't bothered to pull and Harold's heart a steady pulse beneath her palm, Zoe has the sad, awful feeling that just her being here was a miracle to him.

And oh, he deserved so much more.

"I love you," she whispers quietly, kissing his shoulder. "I'll be here in the morning."

He doesn't say anything but he doesn't let go of her hand either.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Carter takes her up on her offer for breakfast Zoe is a little surprised but also intrigued. She picks a little diner that does decent coffee and amazing blueberry pancakes and orders for the both of them, mostly because she knows that Joss likes coffee and won't order a proper breakfast unless she's given it on a plate literally speaking.

She's halfway through her first cup of tea and has finished her own plate of pancakes before the detective enters the establishment. The pretty woman frowns when she enters, surveying the cheap linoleum and grubby windows before she spots Zoe, sliding into the seat opposite her.

"Not exactly what I'd think would be your scene."

Zoe pushes a plate of pancakes towards her guest and watches while Carter drenches them in maple syrup from the dispenser on the table before swallowing a carefully cut triangle of sinfully sweet batter.

"Get it now?"

"You're evil." Joss pokes her fork towards Zoe. "Taylor is on a healthy eating kick. Getting addicted to pancakes isn't going to help." It doesn't stop her from finishing the rest of them though. "So..." Carter raises a perfectly arched eyebrow and takes a sip of her latte. "How's Harold doin'?"

Zoe pours another cup of tea. The question might be innocuous enough but the woman sat opposite her is a detective and so every question she asks is well thought out and every answer she gives will be ruthlessly analysed.

"Fine." She gives Joss a quick smile before taking a sip of her drink. It's too hot to actually swallow but it's a brilliant delaying tactic. Zoe can almost see the wheels turning behind the other woman's large dark eyes.

"Fine." Joss echoes. Her tone is one of scepticism and she slumps backwards into the overly padded booth with a sigh. "You two make a really weird couple y'know."

"There's a saying about people who live in glass houses," Zoe retorts mildly.

Joss gives up after that. She rolls her eyes but the corners of her mouth twitch upwards in a smile. "Is Harold keeping the dog?"

"Bear." Zoe gives an elegant shrug. "So long as it doesn't chew through his signed first edition of "Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone" then I think so. I'm surprised John didn't try and give it to you â€“ he's somewhat overprotective towards you and your son."

"Overprotective?" Joss gives a small snort of irritation. "He tried to give me an AK-47 the other day. Seriously. Because when you are are a cop and have a teenaged son, illegally obtained high calibre firepower is what you need in your house."

"I take it you refused his generous offer." Zoe doesn't bother trying to hide her grin. An argument between Carter and Reese would be so entertaining that she'd probably buy tickets for it. They're both too professional to be anything but cool together in public usually, but it's quite nice listening to Joss vent a little to someone who understands.

"Damn right I did. I'm a cop, he can take that vigilante shit elsewhere."

"Bending the rules is different to breaking them." Zoe holds up a hand when Joss opens her mouth to argue. "Hey I'm not judging, I'm with you on this. John's an alpha male; a few thousand years ago he'd probably have given you a really big stick for protection instead."

"And Harold?" Carter's eyes dance with amusement. "What would he do for you?"

"Probably create some sort of complicated contraption out of stones and vines to protect our cave." Zoe sips her tea. "This conversation is ridiculous."

"Yeah." Carter picks up a sugar packet, shakes it and puts it back into the bowl on the table. Her eyes are dark and sly when she meets Zoe's. " Harold's into Harry Potter? Really?"

"Skinny guy with glasses saving the world. I can get the appeal." The blonde tries not to smile. "John would make a pretty good Sirius Black."

"Better than Gary Oldman. Anyway you're stuck with an actual dog."

"True. And the genius millionaire who saves the world and happens to be quite spectacular in bed." One of the waitresses obviously overhears her and spills half a cup of coffee on the floor while walking past, giving her a startled look. Zoe responds with a genial smile and doesn't look at Joss who is obviously trying not to burst out laughing.

"It's a TV show." Zoe picks up the napkins that the young brunette dropped and hands them back to her. "I guess you don't watch it."

The waitress laughs and heads back to the kitchen. "I wish I had time for TV. " her brown eyes are amused and innocent. "It's a nice idea though isn't it? The whole Robin Hood, Batman thing."

"It is." Zoe tucks two twenties under her empty plate and says goodbye to Carter. They aren't friends, not yet, but give it time and she thinks that they might be.

The sky is a pretty peach yellow behind the skyscrapers and she gives a nod to the traffic camera at the junction at the end of the street. Harold probably isn't watching, but she kind of gets a kick out of playing with the machine if he is. Maybe there's a God watching, maybe there isn't. At least she knows that there's someone out there who cares.