Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking The Dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC – who incidentally should just bring it back!

Content: Boyd and Grace - Season 9 spoilers

Rating: K

In honour of a couple of special occasions and dedicated to the entire OHT.

New Beginnings

It had been a year since everything changed. All that was familiar ripped away in one cruel unexpected blow. The known reluctantly and unwillingly giving way to the unknown, neither having a choice as to when, or how, it happened. Almost daily he had found himself in unchartered waters trying to navigate his way around the new unfamiliar emotions and thoughts that his forced retirement had bestowed on him. He allowed himself a wry smile – it hadn't all been bad, much to Maureen Smiths annoyance.

"You'll not last a day Boyd; you won't know what to do with yourself." The DCC guffawed unceremoniously.

"Oh really?" He quipped, his eyebrows raised in sarcastic defiance.

"Come on, we both know it. We're cut from the same cloth you and me, policing's in our blood ….."

"Yea policing maybe, teaching definitely not."

"Teaching has it place Peter. We need good, experienced officers at the helm to help steer the ship, bring the new recruits up to the standard that the Met of today needs."

"Do you really believe that Maureen, or are you just spouting the same sanctimonious crap that you are being drip fed?"

"No, it's what I think."

"Well more fool you then. The only reason the powers that be want me at Hendon is to keep me outta the way. They know I could raise all sorts of merry hell with this Nicholson thing and so promoting me and telling me what a great opportunity it is to steer the ship is their way of trying to keep my mouth shut."

"You were offered Hendon before Nicholson."

"Yea but not at this level." His eyes narrowed as he observed her suspiciously.

"And what?" She shrugged. "The offer was still on the table, this is not a new thing Peter."

"I told you to stick it then and I'm telling you to stick it now. Honestly Maureen, I'm surprised at you. You've seen what they've done to me, who's to say it won't be you that they hang out to dry next huh?

"So you're worried about my welfare now?"

"Not in the slightest."

"This is not about me Peter; it's about you – what you do next. I don't want to see you hurtling towards oblivion unable to cope with civilian life."

"Oh how very touching, pity you didn't tap into this new found concern for my well-being when you were sat around a table deciding my future."

"It wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it? Cause from where I'm standing that's exactly what it was like."

"You know you are far too pig-headed for your own good. Look all I'm saying is reconsider, you are not ready for retirement yet, it won't suit you."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know your work was your life."

"Not anymore it isn't." He answered honestly, a sardonic smile lighting on his lips.

"So what are you going to do then?"

"I dunknow … but it's sure as hell doesn't involve teaching at Hendon."

He knew that Maureen Smith was completely convinced he would crack under the weight that retirement carried with it and he was also sure most of the top brass agreed with her. But even they were aware that no matter how much he was drowning Peter Boyd would never change his mind or crawl back to them cap in hand. He would go under first, and truth be told he was fully aware that had things been different he just might have.

At the beginning of what would be the end Boyd's main concern had been for his team. Loyal to the end – him to them – them to him. Loyality matters to him and he never forgets it. He wasn't about to let one of them be disadvantaged because of him and had fought tirelessly behind the scenes to ensure that each of their careers were untainted by the events that had unfolded. They were unaware of how much he'd given and let go of in order to protect them. He would never tell them, and they would never know to ask. He knew he was finished as far as the Met was concerned so what did it matter if he accepted the blame of things unattributed to him, after all, he reasoned, the responsibility of the unit and his team ultimately stopped at his door and he would never shirk from that. Peter Boyd may be many things, but no-one could call him a coward or accuse him of avoiding his responsibilities.

They had parted company, that night on Waterloo Bridge, each of them heading off in their separate directions into territory that was un-trodden. They met up individually over the course of the year, but were never altogether again as a team, until yesterday. As they had stood chatting easily together, time evaporated and Boyd's mind drifted once again to the April night when everything changed.

The cold, damp night air whipped remorselessly about the four figures who stood dejected underneath Waterloo Bridge. Each of them joined resolutely in solidarity, yet completely isolated in their own thoughts, battling their own demons. None of them knew what was before them, only that what they had shared had now crumbled and gone. It was a time for new beginnings, even the ones that were un-wantingly being thrust upon them. It was Spence who eventually broke the silence.

"I need a drink."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Eve agreed, looking expectantly towards Boyd and Grace.

"Mm?" Boyd asked forcing his gaze and attention from Grace towards the two younger members of the team.

"We're going for a drink, you two coming?" Eve asked.

"Ahm yea, sounds like a good idea." Boyd answered looking towards Grace for conformation of her agreement.

Spence and Eve began to walk back towards the steps situated behind them when they heard Boyd speak.

"Grace, can I have a word with you, please." His tone of voice was soft and there was a hint of apprehension buried in its undertones.

"Yes, yes of course." Grace replied before turning in the direction of Spence and Eve. "You both go on, we'll catch you up." They nodded their reply knowingly and continued the journey up the steps and towards the pub.

Boyd turned his back once again to her and was staring steadfastly out over the Thames. His large strong frame was hunched, elbows firmly resting on the cold metal barrier, as he leaned his weight on them. She knew these last few weeks had taken it out of him, was fully aware that he would need to talk about what had happened, and she knew that when he was ready he would eventually seek her out, but even she was surprised at just how quickly he had asked for it.

"You okay?" She opened softly as she approached his side subconsciously mirroring his stance. The Thames looked so peaceful tonight, the city lights dancing intoxicatingly upon her surface.

"Hmm I think so." He replied his gaze still firmly fixed ahead. "It will take me a while to process everything, but I'll get there."

"I have no doubt you will." Grace answered before tentatively asking. "So what are you going to do?"

He closed his eyes; his broad shoulders sank forlornly as he dropped his head. Years of old cases swam before his eyes. Victims, suspects, colleagues, friends. Grace.

"I've given my heart and soul to the force over the years you know Grace."

"I know you have."

"And it's cost me everything, well anything that was of any importance. My marriage, my son." He sighed deeply as he fought to retain composure before continuing. "Everything I had I threw into doing what I thought was right. Apprehending the guilty, ensuring that justice was done for the victims and trying to bring some sort of peace to their families and for what? To be tossed aside like some worthless piece of crap that Maureen Smith and her cronies stood in on their relentless pursuit to the top. It just seems so ….. pointless."

"What you have achieved is far from pointless Boyd. The number of families that you have helped and provided answers for, you've given them the closure that they needed in order to move on with their lives, they would certainly disagree that it was all pointless."

Silence embraced them as they both continued to look out across the river momentarily lost in their own thoughts.

"You know what has been bothering me the most Grace?" She turned to look at him as he spoke. His head was slightly bowed as he weighed up the consequences of his words. Slowly he turned towards her. "It's not the fact I've given my life to this, it's not even the victims or the perpetrators or Maureen frigging Smith, it's the fact that I won't get to see you anymore."

Grace felt her mouth drop in surprise as she tried to make sense of his words. "You'll still see me Boyd, you know that. We're friends, retirement won't change our relationship."

"Yea, but we'll not see each other every day like we do now. I mean, I won't have you there like my own little personal conscience who sits on my shoulder every waking moment of the day will I?"

"Ah I see. You're worried that you'll have no control on your behaviour when I'm not around."

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it." He said tersely before relenting as he saw the teasing smile on her face. "What I'm trying to say is that for ten years I've got used to seeing you every day, and the thought of you not being there is almost more unbearable than retirement."

The atmosphere changed suddenly, heavy with tension and unspoken words. The world around them disappeared, and the cold evening chill no longer bit into their flesh.

"I'll always be here Boyd." Grace said her voice no more than a whisper.

"Will you?"

"You know I will."

"I'm not talking about just every now and then Grace, I'm not even talking about friendship …"

"I know." She answered softly, meeting his gaze, searching his deep eyes as they intensely held hers.

"Grace …I …" His voice faltered.

"It's okay Boyd, I know." She reached out and gently ran her hand over his smooth cheek. He closed his eyes allowing the warmth of her touch to begin to soothe his pain until he finally couldn't hold back any longer. Taking a step towards her he carefully cupped her face smiling contently as he watched her melt into his hands. Slowly and tenderly he bent his head and brushed his lips over hers, his pulse racing at the soft gasp which escaped from her as she surrendered to his kiss.

Nicholson had tried to frame him for murder, and then in the end was murdered himself, but it was that moment, that moment on Waterloo Bridge, when he was holding Grace in his arms, that changed everything for him. Maureen Smith was right, his work had been his life, but not anymore it wasn't. What she didn't know was that Grace Foley had changed everything. Retirement wouldn't have suited him – at least not alone, but with Grace, he would love it.

Boyd smiled as he felt her stir against him. It had been year since they all stood together on Waterloo Bridge pondering what the future may hold, but it was an altogether more joyous occasion that had reunited them yesterday.

His smile widened as he kissed her tenderly. "Good morning Mrs Boyd, how did you sleep?"

Grace rewarded him with a beaming smile of her own. "Not too bad thanks, well until I had this terrible nightmare that we got married yesterday." She felt the resonance of his laugh echo from deep within him.

"A nightmare you are never going to wake from I'm afraid, you're stuck with me for the rest of your life. You know that don't you?"

"Hmmm, I suppose I better just get used to the idea then hadn't I." She said gently placing kisses lightly on his chest.

"Yep, probably for the best Grace cause I'm not going anywhere … especially not while you're doing that." He ginned boyishly.

"Well I think I can just about live with that." She laughed.

Waterloo Bridge, the night everything changed, it hadn't all been bad, in fact Boyd concluded as he wrapped his arms firmly around his new wife, it had been very, very good indeed.

Fin