She leans into him, trying to keep it soft and tender, but still, letting him feel the deeper currents. It's not goodbye. It's a promise for better times. For more warmth and touch, and solace. She silently vows, in this kiss, that grief will not define them. It will be an ever present companion, for both of them, each with their own reasons, but it will not rule them.

She pauses to take a breath, her forehead resting against his. 'I love you, Gene Hunt,' she breathes against his cheek, and does not give him time to respond before stealing the next kiss. She rests against him, shoulder to knee, and gives him the strength of her body, gives him a reason to want to return.

This may not be the life they wanted, either of them. But it's a chance, and isn't that all they ever wanted?