A/N: Hi. I've been a Hustle fan pretty much from the start. I've always shipped Stacie and Ash casually, but I did a re-watch recently and the bug really bit me this time around. This is the result! Hope there are still people in this fandom looking for more Stacie/Ash content.

This story starts from season four and ends with the final episode of season eight. Enjoy! Drop me a review if you're still here with this ship :)

I do not own Hustle or any dialogue you recognise.

Part One.

2007.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It wasn't supposed to happen at all. Colleagues were colleagues, and she'd never blurred the boundaries. Well, almost never.

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed him… It had taken a while, but she had noticed. Casually. It was difficult to ignore the fact that you were surrounded by attractive men on a daily basis. She'd noticed it with a healthy sense of detachment, feeling proud that she got to be escorted by four such fine examples of manhood. Albert, always so gallant and distinguished, then the younger three with their debonair confidence. Confidence was attractive, compelling. It was why they could do what they did, after all, but it was true on a more personal level too.

She had been dazzled by Mickey once, long ago before they'd both reached the conclusion that they were better suited as friends. But no one, she thought, could blame themselves for being dazzled by Mickey. It was what he did best, and it had been entirely benevolent. Now they had a comfortable relationship, one that wrapped up their mutual attraction with the genuine warmth and respect, forming a friendship that they both relied on. She was not the woman for him, but if she admired the figure he cut in an expensive suit and he nodded approvingly at her fashion choices, well…they were only human.

It had taken her longer to find even a semblance of similar ground with Danny. She was starting to think it might be possible, but it would take work. A lot of work. Particularly on his part. They were not well suited. He meant the world to her – as they all did – but not romantically. She trusted him with a lot; her life, her grifting reputation, she would even trust him with her money. But not her heart. He'd made too many flippant comments for that, even if she were so inclined to give it to him.

And then of course, there was…

"We, uh…we need to talk about this, don't we?"

The man himself, voicing the thoughts that she was purposely avoiding.

She glanced at him, his anxious expression illuminated by the lights of the poolside bar as he joined her by the railing. She smiled at him, hoping it was a reassuring one.

"After the con," she agreed. "Let's just…concentrate on what we need to do. I think we all need to be focused right now. It's not like this is one of Mickey's plans."

He huffed a small, quick laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it."

She laughed too, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You all right, though?" he asked her, tone turning serious as he studied her a touch more intently than she would like.

"I'm fine," she promised him, her smile growing warmer at his concern. "We're fine," she added, guessing where his true apprehension lay.

He looked sceptical though, and she couldn't blame him. They really did need to talk about it. But it was true that they also needed to focus. After all, selling the famed Hollywood sign was no easy undertaking, and things had been less than smooth so far. The last thing the group needed was drama between two of its number, particularly when they were down a leader.

Danny joined them before the discussion could take any more serious turns, and talk shifted to the next stage of the con: where it should be. Stacie and Ash focused too. They were nothing if not professional.

"Shit," Stacie said with feeling as Ash closed the motel door.

"Shit," he agreed, glancing back at her.

A few moments of silence passed as they looked at each other, thinking. Then Stacie shrugged.

"We'll have to come up with something else," she said. "Put it to the group."

"What, plan C?" he said dubiously.

"Maybe."

Ash chuckled humourlessly, moving over to the window to peer out through the gap in the curtains. It wasn't entirely unexpected that Anthony Westley would continue to make things difficult for them, but it was definitely unwelcome, especially considering that they were already in the middle of plan B. Not for the first time, Stacie questioned Danny's judgement in trying to sell something as iconic as the Hollywood sign. It was competition with Mickey, pure and simple, but he hadn't had to drag the rest of them into it too.

Stacie followed Ash, halting in the middle of the room and folding her arms. "Is he gone?"

"Yeah, I think so. We'll leave it ten minutes just in case."

She nodded her agreement, even as she wondered just how long the ten minutes would feel.

"You know, you've got the most impeccable timing," she spoke up.

"Yeah, I know." Ash shot her a cheeky grin over his shoulder, then sobered. "Why?"

"I think he was going to try and kiss me."

Westley had come to the motel to make a bargain with her, after they'd foiled his attempt to blackmail Ash's character directly. Stacie had thought it would be a straightforward matter, giving her a time and place to pick up the money, but then he'd gone and thrown in an additional complication, and flirted with her to boot.

Ash pulled a face. "Don't you just hate it when a mark does that?"

"When they're that sleazy, definitely."

Dropping into one of the uncomfortable chairs, she tugged a newspaper onto her lap, but couldn't focus enough to read. Her thoughts should have been on the problem in hand, but they guiltily kept drifting back, despite her best intentions, and she inwardly sighed as she set herself up to relive the events again.

Several days previously.

Stacie held the cheap corset up for inspection, managing not to wrinkle her nose. Tackier than she'd initially thought, but he'd got her size right at least.

"Right," Danny said, grinning as he sat forward on the limo seat. "Get changed, then pose up this end, all right?"

A heavy pause followed as Stacie and Ash simply stared at him.

"I think I'll be going," Albert said decisively, escaping out the door and slamming it behind him.

"What?" Danny asked, picking up on their moods.

"Haven't you got other things to be doing?" Stacie spoke up.

"Like what?"

"Anything."

"No," Danny said firmly. "I need to take the pictures, don't I?"

"No need," Ash told him, his tone calm but inviting no argument. "Camera's got a remote trigger. So we'll be fine on our own. Best you get going."

It was obvious that he did have things to do, as he didn't argue the point nearly as much as Stacie would have expected. With only a mild bit of grumbling, he climbed out of the limo, Ash close behind him.

"Uh…what you doing?" Danny asked. "You need to be in the pictures."

"I'm giving Stacie her privacy," Ash countered with blatant but well-deserved condescension. "You know, like a gentleman."

Danny's eyes widened slightly as he realised Ash had a point. "Oh…right."

Huffing, Ash turned to look back at where Stacie still sat with the outfit on her lap. "Give the window a knock when you're ready, Stace, all right?"

She smiled at him, nodding, and he closed the door, muffling Danny's next words. Awkward in the cramped space, (whoever would have thought she'd be calling a stretch-limo 'cramped'?), she shimmied out of her clothes and into the lingerie Danny had so kindly purchased for her. The driver had thankfully gone to lunch, and all was silent outside. She saw Ash's outline through the tinted windows, people-watching as he waited for her to finish up.

Tugging a small mirror from her handbag, Stacie touched up her make-up, painting her eyes and lips bolder to fit in with her character's profession. She was nervous, she realised, meeting her own gaze in the glass. It was…odd. She'd paired up with members of the team before, even posing as Albert's trophy wife once. She'd even had fake sex with Danny for the benefit of Johnny Keyes, which had been strange but not nearly as awkward as this. There hadn't been a trace of nervousness then.

Granted, it had been a while since she'd played a partner to Ash. Certainly not since she started to notice…

Don't think about it, it'll just make this harder.

Knowing she couldn't delay any further, she shifted off her seat and knocked on the window. She saw Ash take a moment before opening the door, and it was strangely reassuring. He was nervous too. He slid onto the back seat, shutting the door behind him, and shot her a little smile.

"So, uh…how much clothing do you think I should lose?" he asked casually.

"As much as you feel comfortable losing," she said with a shrug. "I'm still fully dressed…" She glanced down at her stockings and lace underwear, pulling a face. "Well, sort of. So whatever you decide, it will still look like things are…you know…"

"Just getting started?" he offered.

"Yeah."

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, before nodding. "Okay, let's get on with it then."

She considered making a joke about how unflattering the statement was, but decided against it. She didn't want him to think she was fishing for compliments.

He kicked off his shoes and undid several buttons on his shirt, and she nodded in approval. It would still be an incriminating image, and a man wearing more clothes than a woman in an intimate situation hinted at a power imbalance that Anthony Westley would probably be familiar with.

Stacie relocated to the back seat, allowing Ash to set up a small tripod for the camera.

"If we have you on top," she said, trying to keep her tone professional, "it will look like you have the upper hand, but we can get a few shots of me looking at the camera."

"Like a nudge and a wink," Ash added.

"Exactly. I think Westley will appreciate that."

"Yeah, well, he'd better."

When he'd thoroughly set up the camera, (probably more thoroughly than it really needed), he came to join her at the back of the limo.

"Blimey, there's less room than you'd think, isn't there?" he said, eyeing the seat Stacie was perched on.

"I know, but I think we can make it work."

"Okay, how we gonna do this?"

It took a lot of awkward manoeuvring, with a multitude of 'sorry's and accidental injuries, but finally they found a somewhat-comfortable position. Stacie bent her legs to allow Ash room on the seat, and he propped himself up on his hands to avoid squashing her.

"Does that work?" he asked.

"Uh…wait, if I lean up on my elbows, there'll be more leg room," she said, shifting.

"Right, yeah."

"Oh god, sorry," she exclaimed, almost hitting him on the nose with her forehead.

"It's fine."

She nodded, then started giggling, feeling the unfamiliar strands of hysteria start to tug at her. "I'm sorry," she said between laughs. "This is…so ridiculous."

He chuckled too, and she felt some of the tension drain away. "Yeah, isn't it?"

Stacie exhaled slowly, trying to regain a serious demeanour suitable to her character. "Okay, straight face."

"Ready?"

"Yes."

He buried his face in her hair and they took a few shots. Looking at the digital screen, Ash shook his head with a grim look.

"It's not going to work if we can't see your face," Stacie pointed out, reading his expression.

"No…" He looked at her thoughtfully before saying, "Uh…neck touches okay?"

She couldn't help but admire how casual he'd managed to make the question, and she nodded. "Yeah, fine."

She turned her face to the camera, feeling the warmth as he pressed his closed lips to her neck, and they snapped several more shots. Still, the images weren't quite right.

"Needs more," Stacie said decisively. "Just…go for it."

"Are you sure?"

She sent him a little smile, touched by how thoughtful and respectful he was being. "I trust you."

He nodded, returning the smile with a small quirk of his lips.

"Wait," Stacie cut in as he readied the remote trigger, hidden beside them. She lifted a hand to his head and halted. "May I?"

"Yeah, sure."

She lightly combed her fingers through his dark blond hair, saying matter-of-factly, "You look a bit too tidy."

"Oh, well we can't 'ave that."

"That's better. Ready?"

"Yeah… Wait, do you want a cushion? You look… uncomfortable."

Her back was starting to ache, so she nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

He yanked the nearest one forward and settled it behind her. Practically sitting up now, she leaned back against it.

"God, that's so much better."

Ash checked the screen on the camera, adjusting the frame. "Yeah, that works well actually."

"Okay."

"Ready?" he asked her again, slipping his arm around her waist.

"Ready."

She looked full at the camera, doing her best sultry pout, and Ash brushed his lips against her cheek.

"That was a good one," she muttered, seeing the preview flash up on the screen. "It's still a bit…tame, though."

"Tame?" she heard him murmur. "Bleedin' 'ell, Stace."

She felt bad for how awkward he was clearly feeling, but it had to look right. Westley had to believe that they had some serious dirt on Richard Hamilton.

"I told you," she said, biting her lip, "just…forget it's me and…go for it."

He made some quiet grumble, and she was going to say more, but then his lips were at her neck, open mouthed, and her words abandoned her. Almost without conscious thought she tilted her head back, and he took her invitation, moving his not-quite-kisses to the front of her neck. Stacie stifled a moan, cognizant of the situation even as part of her wanted to get lost in the fantasy. His hot breath tickled her skin and she silently gasped. His hand rested firmly on the right-hand side of her ribcage, his arm almost a full circle around her, pinning her to his chest. It felt wonderfully secure, safe almost, and she wasn't sure how to process how it made her feel.

Eyes closed, Ash turned his face towards the camera, still resting against her neck, and Stacie let her own eyelids drift shut. She suddenly felt far too hot in her skin, a bolt of awareness sizzling through her, reaching parts of her she'd been sure were completely safe from her colleagues.

She was not so touched-starved that it didn't matter who did the touching. It definitely did, and the fact that it was Ash… It wasn't so surprising. As shallow as it sounded, the first time she'd seen him in a suit she'd had to admit to a teeny, harmless admiration. And now, to have him between her legs – albeit, fully clothed – and his lips on her neck…it was making her confront some truths she hadn't wanted to confront.

As the camera beeped and clicked, she became aware that their position and her state of dress were having an effect on him too.

"I…oh god," he muttered, backing away from her. "Sorry, Stace, it's…"

"It's okay," she assured him, trying to smile as she struggled to breathe normally. "It's a perfectly normal reaction."

"Yeah, but…"

"Seriously, Ash, don't worry about it. Please."

"I'm sorry."

She sat upright, pressing her knees firmly together, and Ash busied himself with the camera. She couldn't see his face. No doubt, he intended it that way.

"We should have enough shots," he said, starting to dismantle the tripod.

Stacie reached for her blouse, slipping it on over the corset. She'd get changed properly back at the hotel. It was difficult to wiggle into a pencil skirt in a hurry whilst in the back of a car, but she managed it.

"I'll, uh, get these printed out," Ash was saying, pocketing the camera and tugging on his shoes.

"Okay."

She shifted to the far side of the seat to let him open the door, and watched him climb out. He offered her a hand as she followed, and she waved him away, anxiously threading her hands through her hair.

Unsure how to proceed, they simply stood, avoiding each other's gaze. Stacie wanted to reassure him that it was fine, that she wasn't offended, that she understood that sometimes the male anatomy had a mind of its own…that she could still feel the scorch mark of his mouth against her skin. But she said nothing.

"You all right?" Ash said finally.

Stacie met his wavering gaze, fiddling with a button on her blouse. "Yeah, yeah," she bluffed, inwardly cringing as she heard the most unconvincing tone she'd ever used come out of her mouth. "You?"

"Yeah," he said, equally unconvincing. "Yeah."

Their parting, mere seconds later, was the most awkward exchange they'd ever had, and Stacie felt her heart sink as she walked away from him. They had to mend things before it got too much and ruined the dynamic of the group, a dynamic that was already a little wonky for Mickey's absence.

They made the first step forward at the bar that night, and after that things were almost back to normal but for the underlying tension that had suddenly picked up between them. Stacie wondered if Ash could feel it too, or if it was only her who was mindful of a small but constant energy thrumming below their every interaction. Sometimes she thought she saw some awareness in his keen blue eyes, but she wasn't sure if that was just wishful thinking.

Sitting alone with him in a motel room was doing nothing for her nerves.

"Probably safe to move out now," Ash spoke up, breaking through her reverie.

"Right," she said, getting to her feet. "Good."

"Stace? You all right?"

She met his perceptive gaze and nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just…I'll be glad when this one is behind us, you know?"

His face fell a little, and she realised he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, thinking she was talking about the limo incident.

"It's been like pulling teeth," she added, attempting to set him straight as they stepped out the door. "And now we're trying to pull off a plan B that we didn't even have yesterday…"

"At least he came up with a plan B," Ash said with a shrug. "You gotta give him credit for that."

"If we walk away clean from this one, I'll give him all the praise he deserves," Stacie assured him, leading the way to their stolen car. "But we've got a long way to go, as Albert would say. Now he's got to find a plan C."

"Yeah," he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Let's go and tell the others, eh?"

She nodded, linking her arm with his, as she'd done dozens of times before. He seemed tenser than usual, but he didn't pull away. That was something.

Between actually pulling off selling the Hollywood sign, and returning to London and finding a new mark, Stacie and Ash realised that everything was, in fact, okay. They still hadn't really talked about the limo, but both had glossed over it enough to get by without the conversation. On the surface, everything was just as it was. Underneath, Stacie was having serious concerns about her sanity.

Memories kept plaguing her, bringing thoughts to the forefront of her mind that she had happily left unacknowledged at the back. When she'd told Danny that she didn't get involved with people she worked with, she hadn't simply been brushing him off. It had been true, and it was true for a very good reason. Hooking up left complications, and she didn't want to ruin a good thing.

It was a sound, logical argument, but god, was it making things difficult for her. Fortunately, her role in their most recent con was minimal, only calling for her to play Ash's assistant while they sold a sleazebag a horse.

When they sent Ash off to be 'convinced' to sign the mark's contract, there was no doubt what he'd have to do. Not when the mark in question was in the adult video business. Stacie tried not to care, and almost succeeded. But then Ash made an uncharacteristic error with the contract, which threw them into plan B territory again, and to top it off they ran into Dickie Brennan's two favourite girls at the horse race that was meant to secure their payment. From the glances exchanged, it was clear that Ash and the girls had some connection.

Stacie squashed down the niggling sour feeling in her stomach and countered it by teasing him.

"You know, it really wasn't like you to make a mistake with the contract," she said pointedly. "I'm beginning to think that maybe you were distracted."

"I don't know what you mean," Ash replied, glancing away from her.

"And you never really did say exactly what happened that night. How exactly they convinced you to sign." Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying too hard. Her words were coming out spiky and nagging. She turned to look at him, all hunched up in his seat as if that would shield him from view, and attempted to turn it into a joke. "Did you have to work very, very hard?" she asked with mocking sweetness.

"Look, can we just concentrate on the matter in 'and?" he said, looking increasingly fidgety.

"Oh, struck a nerve, did I?"

She inwardly winced. Sometimes the bitchy comments just flew out of her mouth before she had time to temper them.

"No, no," he protested at once, "I just think we should go and watch the race, that's all."

She forced a smile, adopting a playful tone of disapproval. "Three Socks Morgan," she chided, hiding her expression behind her cup as she took a sip of her drink.

He glanced at her, a hint of challenge in his mischievous smile. His smiles had always been rather infectious, and she felt her expression softening too. She prodded his arm, hoping he would take her words as teasing and not as what they really were. But then he looked away and waved at the girls.

Stacie nearly spilt her drink when they waved back, and she glanced away, managing to swallow. She felt…what did she feel? Jealousy? She glanced down at the grass, not liking the cold, possessive feeling. It was one of her most-hated faults, jealousy. It always turned her into an icy bitch, made her do things she later regretted, and she'd been working hard to master it. She'd thought she'd been making progress, but now…

It was for the con, she reminded herself. He owes you nothing.

In her peripheral vision, she saw him lean forward to peer anxiously at her, and made the mistake of shooting him a sidelong glance. In an instant, she saw him read her face more astutely than she liked. His smile dropped, an almost-sheepish look replacing it.

"Well, actually," he said quietly, scooting forward to better catch her ear. "It didn't quite go as Dickie planned."

Interest piqued, she gave him her full attention. "What do you mean?"

"Look, I was distracted that night, but not how you think." He glanced down at his clasped hands, then back up at her. "I…concentrated too much on my story, missed the details in the contract."

"Story? What story?"

"Well, when the girls took me upstairs…I…came out."

She stared at him, unsure if she'd grasped his meaning. "Came out as in…"

"As in," he said uncomfortably, "they think that Paul Marchant is firmly in the closet, too scared to come out publicly for fear of not being accepted."

Her eyes widened. "Oh," she said articulately.

"I spun 'em a sob story about how I was head over heels for someone I couldn't 'ave, borrowed a few hankies, then after that we were best mates. I swore them to secrecy. They were really sweet, actually. Kept telling me I should just go for it, tell this person how I felt about them."

Stacie swallowed, working her dry mouth. There was no strand of truth in the tale. There couldn't be. He'd made it all up.

"And Dickie Brennan…" she asked, finding words.

"Thinks what you all thought. It seemed easier."

"So why did you lie?"

"I didn't lie. You all assumed and I let you."

"Why go to the trouble of finding a sob story?"

He sighed, shrugging. "Look, Stace, there aren't many things I won't do if someone in this group asks me to, but sleeping with people I don't want to sleep with happens to be one of them."

"Yes, but…sleeping with porn stars?" Stacie commented with a shrug of her own. "Pretty sure that's on Danny's bucket list."

Ash snorted, and she was glad to see his smile return.

"Yeah, I reckon so. Maybe next time."

Stacie checked the time, and they got to their feet. The race was almost due to start, and she had a little bet to place.

"You weren't jealous, were you?" Ash asked her casually as they walked.

Stacie felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away. "Course not," she answered. She made herself glance back at him, and her heart jolted as she saw his sharp eyes analyse her masked expression. In that instant, she knew he'd seen that there was more truth behind his light comment than he'd intended. She hurried to add more. "I just want to make sure that the people you…spend time with…treat you right."

"Right," he said, not even bothering to hide how unconvinced he was.

"Shall we go and watch a horse race?" Stacie asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Yeah. Just let me place a bet first."

"You too?"

"Well, it's too good to pass up, innit?"

Ash and Stacie had the roof terrace to themselves. Everyone else had retreated back to the warmth of the apartment. Granted, it was probably a wise decision. It was a chilly day, and it got windy up there, but it was the only place they could find privacy.

It had been a difficult day from a business point of view, and an even worse one emotionally. They'd spent an afternoon terrorised into submission by pieces of so-called poisonous fish, which had, of course, turned out to be completely safe. They'd lost money, the mark had lost money, and they were firmly in Eddie's bad books. The only plus side to the thieves being so thorough was that the mark wasn't blaming them for the loss.

"You all right?" Ash asked the silent Stacie at his side. He seemed to be asking her that an awful lot these days.

"I'm fine," she replied, blinking a little as she broke away from whatever far away thoughts she'd been lost in. "Just…still trying to figure it all out."

He nodded, glancing over at the door to make sure they were still alone. "I, uh…wanted to say sorry."

She sent him a puzzled look, the breeze sending strands of dark hair dancing across her face. She impatiently brushed them back. "For what?"

"For making you believe I was dead."

Her eyes widened a touch, and she glanced down at her lap, leaning forward. "Don't," she said. "Don't apologise. It was a smart move, and you were just protecting the rest of us. I…guessed that was what you were doing, but…god, you made it seem so real, for a second there I…I sort of fell for it too."

He knew she had. Her tears had been real, falling hot on his face as she hid them both in a curtain of dark hair and kissed his cheek. Her distress had been so sobering. Somehow, he hadn't thought she cared quite that much, although he wasn't sure why. It was obvious she cared about all of them, gliding through the group distributing cheek-kisses like favours. Ash received fewer than the others, a fact he hadn't ever wanted to think too hard about, but now that she'd kissed him in sorrow – however short-lived – he wasn't sure he could bear for her to do it again.

He had reassured her as quickly as possible once he'd realised the young Japanese man wasn't buying it, but it had left them both a little shaken, despite their skill in hiding it.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know. I didn't want to put you through that, Stace. That's what I'm sorry for."

She shrugged off his concern, although she kept her arms folded around her middle. "It's okay. We're all fine. Yes, we're out of pocket, but Albie can get us a new mark. What matters is that we're all okay and Eddie's okay."

Ash nodded his agreement. "Well, I guess I can add 'Be threatened by a Samurai' to my list of things I never thought I'd do."

Stacie managed a laugh, but it ended quickly. She was still troubled. He could see it clear as day, particularly when she lifted her beautiful dark eyes to his.

"Ash," she began in a solemn tone, "I don't ever want to see you die again, be it fake or otherwise."

"I know, darling," he said, rubbing her back in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "I'll try my best."

"Think you'll be adding 'Get hunted by the mafia' to your list of things you never thought you'd do?" Stacie asked, her tone deceptively light.

Ash nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, might as well take something away from the experience."

"Um, excuse me," Danny cut in, "but did I or did I not get us a big pile of money?"

"And a big pile of trouble," Stacie added.

"Which we are now out of," Danny countered.

"I'll give you that," Ash conceded graciously.

"Thank you."

Albert cleared his throat emphatically. "Ahem, I believe it was me who got us away. And back to land."

After watching the boat that the mark thought they were on explode, their little inflatable dingy had drifted too far out to sea for comfort. With no land in sight and the dingy taking on water, it had been touch and go for a while. Danny spent a lot of time declaring that he had plans without actually explaining what any of them were, and in the end Albert put him out of his misery by revealing that his old friend would be back for them. After ensuring that Johnny Maranzano was safely on his way back to Vegas, of course.

"Yes, thank you, Albie," Stacie said, patting Albert's good hand.

The five of them were in their fourth car of the day, driving overnight to Seattle, where they would finally fly home. Billy was taking his turn behind the wheel, Danny in the passenger seat with the bag of money. Stacie, Ash and Albert were doing their best with the cramped conditions in the back seat.

Things finally fell silent when Albert and Danny drifted off. Ash had his eyes closed, but Stacie could tell he wasn't asleep yet, lacking the steady deep breaths that gave the other two away.

"You did amazingly on this one," she said quietly, in case he was too far into snoozing to answer.

He cracked one eye and shot her a grateful smile. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

"I'm starting to think no demand is too much for you," she teased him.

"Oh, I don't know about that," he replied at once, and she sensed there was a strand of solemnity behind the words. "But thanks," he added, nudging her arm with his elbow. "Try and get some sleep, eh? It's been a hard day for all of us."

"No headrest in the middle seat," she pointed out. "But that's okay. I'll keep Billy company."

"Well, there's a shoulder here if you want it," Ash offered offhandedly, not quite managing to meet her eye. "Not sure Albert would appreciate you leaning on him."

Stacie glanced at Albert's peacefully-sleeping form to her right and smiled. "No, he definitely wouldn't."

"Well, just…lean on me then. If you're tired, I mean. If you want to."

She turned her smile towards him and was glad to see it returned, however hesitantly. "Thanks, Ash."

He nodded, shutting his eyes again, arms folded and right-hand shoulder inviting. She didn't move, though, biting her lip and taking a moment to think. In the rear-view mirror, Billy met her gaze and winked, his cheeky grin indicating something she didn't want to acknowledge.

The kid is more perceptive than any of us gave him credit for, she thought.

She stifled a yawn, gingerly shifting in her seat until her head rested on Ash's shoulder. It was much more comfortable than sitting bolt upright, although she could feel that he was tense. She inhaled the earthy scent of his leather jacket, and the familiar aftershave that underlined it, feeling herself relax. After a while, he relaxed too, and they both drifted off to sleep as the car sped them further away from the people they hoped never to cross again.

A/N: Gawd bless season four for giving us those limo photos. Part of me's always wondered what Danny thought when he saw the prints...