Warning for mentions of assault/sexual assault.

Thank you for reading!!!

Bo almost loses her "hat" as she tips her head to inspect her feet. She should have gone with the black shoes, she thinks, performing a Dorothy knock to her heels before wrinkling her nose.

"Crap."

The people lined up ahead move forward and there's a confusing atmosphere in the shadows before blinding lights, a muddle of excitement and almost paralysing nerves. Bo dutifully follows the person in front, noting that this form of conga line is dramatically different than the one she was forced into at her cousin's wedding.

Bo's never been under so much instruction before, follow me, sit here, stand up, clap, shake hands. And she's reminded of this when beckoned forward by a man with worry lines patterned in waves across his forehead. There's a trickle of sweat running just past his temple, and all it does is remind Bo of the layers of dark fabric currently draped over her feverous body.

Her name is scratched out a little aggressively from the list pinned to his clipboard and he gives her a serious looking nod to the side.

"Go."

Fingers trail down the deep, red velvet curtains separating the audience from the hordes of achievers. She takes a customary deep breath. It's with apprehensive steps and a nauseating roll to her stomach that Bo's name is called and she takes to the stage, one glittery heel at a time.

Please don't trip. Please don't fall and embarrass yourself.

Her heart is thundering like a summer storm, she feels the pressure of it through her tight dress and the damp palms she wipes on her robes that skirt the wooden stage. Bo doesn't dare look out to the audience, just focusing ahead where the chancellor is offering a smile and a hand to shake.

Bo's head shoots up at the echoing whistles and overly enthusiastic clapping. Seated on the next level up are two people she recognises and one more person who she distinctly remembers said they couldn't make it. Bo had been anguished but respectful at the time, telling them not to worry about it. How could she demand attendance from someone she exchanged infrequent texts with and birthday phone calls twice a year.

Her mum flashes a camera and even with the distance Bo can tell she already has tears tracking her cheeks. Aunt Grace is faring a little better, although the wild clapping has Bo thinking that over displays of emotion are a family trait. They're both in eye-catching floral dresses, a bright addition to the occasion compared to Bo's compulsory dark coloured ensemble.

She gives a small wave, descending the steps from the stage with one hand gripping her degree and the other clinging to the rail. Harry's grinning as he lowers his hands from his mouth.

There's no time to assess his appearance, her heart slamming her ribcage, but Bo can tell just from the fleeting glance she gets that there's no longer hair tumbling past his shoulders.

She sits through the ceremony for another two subjects, politely clapping with an impatient bobbing of her knee. It's far too warm in the old venue, and Bo prays that someone will turn on the air conditioning or open a damn window somewhere. The few times she's glanced up to the circle seats above, she's caught a watery smile from her mum. Her aunt applauds every graduate with an enthusiasm not seen anywhere else in the audience. Before the ceremony, she'd grabbed Bo's hand and told her how overwhelmed she was to be amongst a new generation of graduates.

It's Harry that seems to know when eyes are upon him, and Bo receives a smile and a cheeky wink. When they're released, she's one of the first up and out of her seat, hustling to try and jostle between some of the slower individuals.

Freshly graduated, Bo tumbles through the back doors in her haste, out of the main venue and into the reception where friends and family are waiting with full glasses from the bar. Weaving through a large group just beyond her, Bo emerges to scan the rest of the room.

He's stood chatting to her mum and aunt, dressed in a navy suit with considerably less hair than when she'd seen him last.

"Harry!"

Turning, he's quick about taking the glasses off, ready for her when she barrels into him. Her arms tightly wrap his waist as she blurs the lines between them and squeezes. For Bo, the engaging of their bodies doesn't last nearly as long as she'd like. Harry's peeling away from her even as her fingers tighten to his jacket. He levers her away slightly by Bo's shoulders, quite possibly so he can see her face as he laughs.

"I didn't think you were able to come," her voice quivers slightly, making a grab for his hand.

"I wasn't going to miss your graduation, Bo."

He leans in a little and Bo feels almost as though it's a secret.

"But you said -"

"Surprise."

Harry's grinning at her like a child telling an awful joke. And it will do awful things to her eye makeup if she dwells on the fact that he's actually here.
"Well, it certainly is a surprise to see your new look," she fondly smiles, reaching up to touch the short length of his hair.

"Thought I'd change it up a bit. More presentable for such an auspicious occasion."

"It certainly is different."

It's shorter up the sides and longer on top. Funny, she never noticed how cute his ears were.

"You look very handsome. And these are adorable," she says, taking the glasses from his pocket, folding out the arms and placing them back on his nose.

"Really?"

"You're adorable."

He sighs.

"That's not really the look I was going for."

"Congratulations on your adorableness."

"Congratulations on being massively brainy and getting your degree. Although you look like you've just graduated from Hogwarts," he teases, lightly fluttering her robes.

"Thanks."

Bo had forgotten about the graduation cap before she tips her head to peer down at her attire. She catches it just as it starts to slip.

"Oh, these are for you."

Seemingly out of thin air, a bouquet of prettily tied flowers is produced from somewhere behind him and Harry swaps the bunch for the cap in her hand. Bo's bashful in her appreciation, hiding behind them whilst speaking her thanks. She thinks she'll have to ask the restaurant to put them in water whilst they eat.

"Hey Bo!"

They both turn and Bo smiles back at the group of friends from her course. Max and Ali have identical grins as they wave a bottle of fizz at her and beckon.
A kiss is pressed to her mum and aunt's cheeks, kicking off her heels and wriggling from the heavy robe.

"I'll be back in a minute."

Her promise to Harry is accompanied with more of a kiss to his jaw than his cheek on account that he didn't bend down far enough. Bo's taken a few steps away from Harry before she thinks better of it and rounds on him again. He's still smiling.

"You look really well, Harry."

She nods, suddenly becoming unable to keep from blushing as she shakes her head and retreats towards her friends, leaving him to watch after her.

***

There's already family members trying to hustle groups of graduating friends into keepsake photographs. It's Ali's younger sister, with her dark plaited hair swinging around her shoulders that ultimately breaks up their little gathering. She beams up at him, two teeth less than in the family picture Ali had up in his room. He makes a show of trying to resist the youngster tugging on his hand.

"We'll organise something over the summer, right?" he rushes before being whisked away. "We could all meet in London, or have a weekend at the beach?"

"Sounds great."

"I'm up for it."

"You're up for anything," Jose elbows Max in the ribs.

He proceeds to play injured as Jose catches something of greater interest.

"You should go."

The words are countered with a tilt to her head, nodding past Bo's shoulder.

"You trying to get rid of me?" Bo jokes.

"No, I just think your boyfriend wants you back."

Bo turns to see Harry stood with her mum and aunt. He's still got her robe draped over his forearm, and it's a second before he notices her attention, in which his frown transforms to fondness.

She wriggles her toes on the balding carpet as her stomach does an odd affectionate squirm at the fact Harry's also holding her heels.

"Oh, he's not - my boyfriend."

"Really? Is he single then?"

"Shut up," Bo hushes, playfully pushing her friend away.

She keeps on her toes on the meandering route back to him, cautious of pointy heels and polished dress shoes. There's even a moment Bo resorts to a hop and shuffle rather than taking critical damage to blue polished nails.

"You should probably put them back on if we're going outside," Harry gestures to her shoes.

"I was hoping someone would carry me. They might look pretty, but they're killing my feet."

Regardless, she slips into them anyway, taking hold of Harry's arm to steady herself.

"I would offer to put you over my shoulder, but I don't think your mum would like it much."

Bo would take a fireman's lift even if it meant a disapproving look from her mother. After today she'd quite happily get shot of the sparkly, monster shoes down the charity shop.

"You'd carry me?"

"Course."

"I'm really proud of you. And just to clarify, I would offer to carry you anyway, even if you hadn't just graduated."

She places her hand on her heart somewhat dramatically.

"Thank you for coming."

***

Posing for pictures, throwing graduation caps and saying her goodbyes drains Bo of the energy she started the day with. Her mum and aunt are waiting for her on the outskirts of the garden and Bo could just about drop to her knees with exhaustion, anything to get the weight off her feet. But before she can join them, Harry approaches, pocketing his phone and standing in front of her.

"I'm gunna head off now," he tells her and Bo's joy takes a nosedive into disappointment.

"Really? Aren't you coming to dinner with us?"

She can tell by the sour pinch to his mouth that he didn't want to make a big thing about it. Probably just wanted to kiss her on the cheek and slip away. Again.

"You can stay. We'll ask them to just set another place at the table. I can -"

Bo starts to turn away to her mum because she'll know what to do. Mum's always know; like it's programmed into them the moment they give birth. Bo doesn't need to vie for her attention though, her mum and aunt are already watching after the couple across the grass.

Bo catches her eye long enough for her mother to mouth, 'Let him go."

It's Harry's hand on Bo's shoulder that gently anchors her and she can feel a phantom twist of emotion in her gut. It hurts. Reminiscent of a juncture in their shared past when he told her he was leaving. But this time she doesn't cry. Bo holds her nerve and his eye contact.

"It's ok, you celebrate with your family."

She remains tightlipped to refrain from saying something silly.
Harry kisses her cheek but Bo can already feel him stepping out and away, creating a distance that prevents her from clutching at him. And she doesn't understand why.

"Harry?"

He smiles, still moving to cut their connection.

"It's ok, I'll talk to you soon."

It's with a heavy heart that she tortures herself further, watching as he politely slips between the remaining friends and relatives and exits the garden through the stone archway.

On the walk to the restaurant, her mum strides ahead taking a congratulatory phonecall on Bo's behalf from a relative she's never even heard of.

"I wonder if they'll have a vegan menu?"

Bo's aunt has slipped an arm through hers as they wander through familiar streets admiring shop windows.

"You're not even a vegan though."

"I know, but the whole diet intrigues me."

Bo shakes her head, laughing as they round another corner. They're serenaded by a busker whilst they wait outside the restaurant for her mum to finish the call. He's young, strumming away at chords and singing along to an early Ed Sheeran track that Bo's having trouble with naming.

"It's a shame Harry couldn't stay," her aunt comments as they watch.

"Yeah," Bo hums, because she's not really in the mood to discuss it.

"You shouldn't worry."

"About what?"

Little Bird, Bo thinks. That's the song.

"He said he's still trying to sort things out. He didn't feel ready for it yet."

***

"Meet me at the corner of Angle Rd at 6, wear something sporty. H x"

She scans over the message again, before chucking her phone back on the unmade bed. Her insides do an involuntary sweep as it bounces before settling inches from edge of the mattress.

"Wear something sporty, what does that even mean?"

Bo confronts the mess in her wardrobe, hands on hips paired with a scrutinising gaze. Hangers are pushed back and forth on her rail as she contemplates if her jeggings constitute anything remotely sporty. She decides they don't meet the grade.

A glance at the time makes the decision for her, making grabby hands at a pair of patterned leggings and a "Save The Bees" t-shirt she received from Tiff as a birthday present. She's out the door in less than two minutes.

Bo's not really one for arriving early to anywhere, but it's Harry and his cryptic message that has prompted something similar to nerves in her belly. Similar, but it's definitely not nerves. No.

"I said something sporty."

She whirls to see Harry approach from the other side of the road. He's in sport shorts and a t-shirt with a duffle bag slung over his right shoulder. The tautness in his arms blinkers her vision, not the sort of arms attached to a chiseled model with flowing hair on a cheesy romance novel. But more the solid build of an athlete, of someone who actually uses their body as a tool rather than just flaunting it at the gym.

She refuses to acknowledge the small clench in her lower tummy.

"This is what I do yoga in," Bo explains, glancing down at the bright yellow top and leggings.

"You do yoga?"

"Yeah, me and a girl from work take a class on Wednesday. We end up giggly through most of it, but I think I've got the warrior pose down."

Bo gives a little demonstration in the middle of the path, much to Harry's amusement.

"How's work going?"

Bo moves along beside him as he starts to walk back down the road.

"Alright thanks, hopefully I won't be there much longer. I have an interview next Friday with an NGO that I'm doing some prep for."

"Fingers crossed."

They chat for the remainder of the mystery walk until they near a building that Bo's vaguely familiar with.

"Are we working out? I thought we were going for a run."

"Not quite."

Harry leads the way through the reception where he's cheerfully greeted by a muscled man behind the desk. Bo waits as Harry digs a card out from his wallet before swiping it in front of a screen. The barriers ahead of them swing open and she's encouraged through them with a hand to her lower back.

They're met with a wall of warmth and excited shrieks as they press through the heavy doors. Children delight in the water of the fun pool and Bo watches toddlers splash around in fountains spurting from the tiled floor.

"I brought my niece the other week," Harry says, leaning against the rail beside her.

"Here?" Bo asks. "To the pool of screaming children."

There's a mother standing on the side of the water's edge, beckoning for three children to get out and dry off, to which they duck under the surface with grinning, goggled faces. It's a reminiscent scene of her own childhood that amuses Bo as she continues to listen.

"She loves it. Bit clingy to start off with and we stayed in the shallows mostly, but she wanted to go in deeper."

"How old is she now?"

"Two and a half," he replies with a soft sort of smile.

There's adoration and pride blooming as Harry talks about his niece. And Bo knows for certain that the toddler had him wrapped around her finger from the moment he first held her. And the idea of Harry with a baby, how gentle and soft spoken he'd be whilst informing her of how he'd spoil her rotten despite what her mum says. It's enough to have Bo pining to witness first hand how someone barely past Harry's knee could turn him to complete mush.

"It's bit of a nightmare after getting out of the water though, she wriggled around so much I didn't bother changing either of us."

Bo laughs, gripping the rail.

"Just wrapped her in the towel like a burrito and walked out."

"Are we here to swim, because I didn't bring anything to change into."

"Not today. I have something else planned."

It's as they bypass the locker rooms and then the training hall that Bo's curiosity bubbles over with questions.

She's left unsatisfied with an answer of, "Wait and see."

Following along closely behind him, Bo's introduced to a brightly lit room through a set of double doors.

"Stay here a minute."

He offloads his bag to the floor by Bo's feet which she huffs at before nudging it to the wall with her foot.

It's difficult not to notice the female chatter in the sweeping room. The majority are ladies, dressed in sporty attire with hair pulled back and smiles on their faces. There's a bar running around the circumference, walls which are lined with floor to ceiling length mirrors. If Bo didn't know any better she'd say they were here to dance, the space perfect for observing and participating in routines to music. But she certainly doesn't think that's the case as Harry's now jogging over to the main group, his presence drawing in the smaller clusters formed on the outskirts.

The space is relatively bare when taking into account it's located in a gym. The floor is a patchwork of large blue mats laid out to face the space at the far end of the room.

"Hi, thanks for continuing to come back," Harry begins which elicits a murmur of laughter. "I'm pleased to see all the slots are filled for this self defence class. And I hope we can achieve a lot whilst we're here."

Bo's eyebrows shoot up in response, still a little unsure as to what the hell is going on. That is until their eyes meet and Harry beckons Bo from the back of the room to where he's stood in front of a class of about twenty-five.

"This is my –" Harry pauses. "She's um –"

"Bo," she intercepts.

She's never found public speaking to come with ease, and this feels a lot like a presentation she's massively underprepared for.

"She's going to be helping me demonstrate," Harry explains as Bo absorbs the information for the first time with the rest of the class. "Bo's a beginner, too. So this will be new for everyone."

And that's pretty much it before Bo is thrown into a class she didn't sign up for. But what stuns her more is how at ease he is whilst advising people on their foot stance and how to position their shoulders. Well, that and Harry's surprising repertoire of encouraging phrases he dishes out when making the rounds.

They run through exercises performed in the previous class, actions Bo has to catch up on with a partner as Harry wanders the floor. Once she's mastered the art of evading a wrist lock, Harry calls her back up to the front again as the women gather.

Bo stands to the side of Harry.

"What do you think puts Bo at a disadvantage in a physical confrontation between the two of us?"

The question is posed to the group before murmurs hum around the room and people begin to speak up.

"You're huge," one of the women at the front comments.

Harry laughs as Bo scans him from her eye-level and up. He is considerably taller, broader and heavier than the rest of the room's occupants.

"Yeah, I'm bigger than Bo."

"Stronger," someone else suggests.

"Unless she's an athlete, I don't think she could outrun you."

The answers begin to lose steam and Bo is left with an unnerving list of attributes that put her in an inferior physical position. And honestly, it doesn't do much for her confidence.

The group conversation is still in free flow as Harry gestures for Bo to approach the mat.

"Do you mind doing a demonstration with me?" he asks quietly with his back partially to the class.

"What kind?"

"If you're not comfortable, you can say no and I'll ask one of the trainers - it's defence against sexual assault."

Bo's stomach instantly drops as she thickly swallows.

"Wow, heavy stuff," she tries and unfortunately fails to make light of it.

"It's important to -"

"Ok."

"You sure?" he asks, raising his brows.

"If it will help the people here, then of course."

His smile is infectious and Bo actually has to prompt him to continue with the class. Giving him a little shove towards the waiting group so she can hide the grin he's responsible for.

"Will you lay down for me please?"

She gives him a look before taking his hand and sitting on their own patchwork of blue in the room. Bo regathers her hair in a tie before flicking it out above her head and laying back.

"Today, we're going to be learning to defend and evade against a position known for sexual assault."

As Bo's regard flicks from face to face, trying to decipher people's initial reaction, she's surprised to find that there's no shock or uneasiness, instead an openness to listen and learn.

***

Bo's a little perplexed at the position she finds herself in, only the mat separating her body from the floor and Harry hovering over her like they're in the privacy of a home and not at the front of a class full of keen, observing eyes.

He's on hands and knees, those knees pressing up under her butt as her bent legs widen. But it's the nature of the subject matter that, despite the positioning, cancels out any romantic stirrings for Bo, and she's pretty sure Harry isn't feeling it either. There's something sort of remote about it all.

"With sexual assault, this is most likely going to be the position a victim would end up in. I know it might feel a bit awkward to start off with," Harry continues to speak to the class. "But it's important to remember that in reality, if something does happen, it's not going to be from a distance. It'll be close."

As if to emphasise the point, he leans down onto Bo until their chests are almost touching. And then his body heat is gone as he straightens once again.

"Don't think that once you're on the floor, that's it. There's a lot of moves you can perform to get out of the position. And that's what we're going to begin learning today."

Harry's full attention returns to Bo and along with it, everybody else's. She's forced to peer up at his face, ready for his next instruction. But he doesn't address her as such, instead throwing another question out to the group.

"What do you think Bo can do to get out of this?"

He's almost fully on top of her, his forearms place by her head and Bo can feel her cheeks bloom with warmth.

There's mutterings of suggestions between people that have paired off before someone calls out from the back.

"Head-butt you?"

Laughter flutters around the room.

"Not quite," Harry admits with a smile. "Try and push me away."

Simple.

Bo presses up, palms making contact with Harry's chest and shoving. But it's with slight alarm that she discovers all three attempts end with Harry buckling her elbows and powering down. And it's then, with a whisper of breath between them that Harry asks, "How do you feel?"

Bo thickly swallows.

"Powerless."

And it's true because the thought of being so easily trapped is turning Bo's stomach over. If it was anyone but Harry performing the demonstration there's a strong possibility that she'd ask to remove herself from the situation to melt back into the gathering of people watching over. But it is Harry, Harry with his short hair, scarred face and easy smile. And she trusts him.

One woman clears her throat and Harry rolls smoothly back into professional instructor.

"This class is about learning to effectively gain control in situations like this."
With her hands pressed to Harry's shoulders, not his chest, Bo's told to lock her arms in place. It ensures that despite his efforts, his upper body is prevented from crushing hers.

"See," Harry keeps up his running commentary. "With your arms like this, I can't get anywhere near you. She could take my whole body weight and still hold the position."

"Try," one of the women sat down at the front suggests.

It's never been an audience that Bo imagined she'd ever be in front of, especially in a situation like this. But the more moves they perform together, the more she feels empowered and comfortable in a strange sort of way.

Harry looks to Bo and she nods.

He'd been holding back in the demonstration before now, careful not to show full brawn. But as Harry surrenders his weight Bo's joyfully surprised that she can take it and hold.

"Are you really -"

"Yeah, good job," he praises.

A second more and his body's burden is removed and they roll right into the next action in the sequence.

Harry is patient as they try different moves according to both of their leg positions. In between repeating new moves he just simply slides Bo back to him, aided by the ease of the mat, much to her surprise the first couple of times. He still holds her firm but the more they practise the easier Bo finds it to perform. She's particularly pleased to perfect, "shrimping out", a sequence that ends with freeing her legs.

"Bo's gunna put her feet on my hips to give her leverage for the next move."
She does so, allowing Harry to adjust her placement before falling back into their position.

"Whilst doing this you can remove your palms from my chest and grip my elbows."

Fingers wrap tight to his elbows as his hair flops over his eyes.

"And then you push, extending your legs."

She doesn't exert herself because Harry's going easy.

"An attacker's natural reaction will be to pull away, and you use this to your full advantage. When this happens, I want you to move your grip down to the wrists and hold."

Harry's presence backs up and away from Bo at a casual pace so she can get used to the transforming hold. Hands sliding all the way down his forearms until she does as instructed and catches his wrists.

"Good."

They're taking it slowly, step by step with Harry reassuring the group that they'll repeat the demonstration as many times as needed. He's a patient tutor, happy to answer any questions put forward by some of the quieter women. It's as Bo's grinning stupidly up at him that her chest fills with pride and she thinks that maybe this is what he's supposed to do; to help people, use his knowledge and experience of fighting and turn it on its head. Because he knows how to use another's brute force in his favour, how to block attacks, how to escape a hold, deflect a punch and how to tactically overcome threat. Bo's seen him do it, and now it's time for him to teach others.

"When you get to this stage, it's time to fight back. This is where I want you to kick the shit out of them."

The women laugh at his choice of words as Bo's eyes widen.

"What?" she blurts.

"Groin, solar plexus and chin," he gestures respectively to each. "The aim is to incapacitate, knock him back and then you run."

Bo's grip tightens on his wrists. She doesn't want to hurt him and she voices this worry whilst Harry takes hold of Bo's calfs, lifting them so her feet are near his shoulders.

"This is when you have a chance to kick me in the face."

Bo teasingly tests the strength of his grip which Harry responds to with a raised brow and comical smile.

"Think of cycling without the bike, that's the motion you're looking for."

She practises her kicks with Harry tilting his head to the side, out of harms way.

"Then you can roll out from under me and run."

Once they finish up with their little demo, it's clear to see some of the women are itching to try out the sequence. They run through the steps once more slowly and then with speed before they disband and try the routine in pairs.
Bo watches as Harry weaves through the mats talking to each pair and helping with any placement problems they're having.

It's Bo's turn to sit back and watch whilst swigging out of her water bottle. Despite the more sinister underlying need for the class, there's a few eruptions of giggles between friends when getting into positions. And Bo has to admit that she's had fun.

Forty minutes more and the participants in the class are collecting their belongings from the back of the room. There's accomplished smiles and fervent chatting upon exit, one woman even asks if there will be any more slots open for future classes, explaining the interest given when she'd told her friends.
The proud smile she displays transforms upon a new arrival to her little area at the back.

"Were you here for the combat class?"

Bo turns to see a guy in shorts and a t-shirt with the sweat drenched neckline. He's handsome in a boyish kind of way and that makes Bo think he's probably not as old as the muscled body lets on.

"It's a defence class," she replies.

He nods with a smile.

"I've met the instructor."

"Yeah?"

He hums.

"Yeah, but have you seen his face," he gestures vaguely to his own left eye and Bo's tolerance for this meaningless conversation shuts down. Prick. There's no obligation to entertain such topics, and the fact that this man thought it was an appropriate icebreaker is beyond Bo.

"I dunno, I think he's kinda cute," she playfully cocks her head at Harry.

Harry's still chatting with a few of the women but he's definitely noticed her interaction with the man stood to her left. His posture changes, and there's a moment where Bo thinks he might approach.

"Oh."

"Mmm, looks like he could look after a woman. And he's obviously hugely respectful of them for leading a class that empowers them in situations where we're oppressed and demeaned in some of the worst ways imaginable."

This guy is nodding but Bo's not really sure he follows.

"I'm Jake," he holds out his hand to shake.

She could almost laugh at the blatant urge to change the conversation.

"Bo."

An instant before she sees him, Bo knows Harry is with her. She can already feel the heat of him as he stands partially behind her.

"Who's this?"

Straight to the point and in a tone she hasn't heard for a long time. Bo would be embarrassed to admit that it sends her body into a turmoil that results in a flushed chest and that hot little clench in her stomach. She pushes back into him almost on instinct.

"Jack."

"It's Jake," the guy corrects, irritably.

"Oh, sorry," Bo lightly laughs, fully aware of her mistake. "We were just talking about you."

"You were?" Harry asks slightly warily.

He steps more to her right side as Bo fights the urge to push away the flopping curls from his face.

"Yeah, how successful the class is, and how pretty you are."

Harry blinks down at her as Bo gives him her best smile.

"I'm gunna go."

Jake leaves without any acknowledgement from the pair.

***
Bo helps with putting the mats away in the cupboard at the back. Well, helping in a sense that she lays in a starfish on the mat as Harry drags it across the floor. A hilarity that proceeds upon switching places, judging that Bo can barely move the mat a foot with Harry sprawled across it.

"Thanks for coming along, I think it really helps to have someone to demonstrate with. I don't think I could have taken a volunteer for that sort of routine in the first couple of classes."

They're making their way out through the length of corridors to the reception.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I'm pretty certain there would have been a few hands go up if you'd have asked."

He's bashful about it, but Bo definitely sees the grin as he turns away to hold the door.

"So, how did it all happen?"

"When we were together, I remember you talking about it, teaching women defence."

It's a conversation Bo remembers having but it was flippant, she hadn't dreamed he would acted on it.

"I got trained and became certified as an instructor. It's only one night a week at the moment, but the manager's told me that they were turning people away who wanted to enrol in the second class. And it's not just women, it's only a small turnout at the moment," Harry frowns, "but we're hoping to encourage more of the young LGBT community to enrol."

"Lucky I got my spot then."

"You're an exception."

"I think you mean, exceptional."

It's laughter that opens out onto the street.

"They're hoping to fit in some more classes during the week."

"That's brilliant."

"Then I wouldn't have to do gym training in the day, it would just be the defence classes."

Bo's delighted to see that he looks proud and he should be.

"So, are you gunna show me your new place, or what?"