Williams brooded in his car, tapping his fingers absently to the upbeat pop crashing out of his radio which was totally at odds with his present mood. God, he hated being undercover! When Dawson had given him his marching orders he couldn't exactly have argued could he? Oh, of course he respected the man, old school tie and all, but he'd liked his old boss. There was a man you could look up to. Sighing he eased his car out of the London traffic and backed up beside the pavement.

Carefully he ran a hand through his curly hair and straightened his tie. The bruise on his face gave an unpleasant twinge and he gently rubbed it. It tingled again and he groaned. Stupid Twig or whatever his name was, for the medical. Stupid Ferris for running him all over London, his evasiveness got to Williams, in its cheery incompetence and the way it was punctuated with little chocolates. He couldn't wait until this was over.

The light autumn breeze chilled Williams as he cooled his heels outside the phone box. Wait for a call. Typical, a Hollywood line from a complete amateur. To be fair, Ferris probably had got up whatever ladder he was currently sitting on by doing something right. Williams just couldn't see what it had been. Forgetting that line of thought he fingered the ticket in his pocket.

A man suddenly strolled into view. He eyed him surreptitiously; tall, stereotypically handsome and well dressed; not dandy but aware of his appearance all the same. He looked hard, just the sort to be a hired gun. He also looked just like the type to get up his nose. The man sauntered to the other phone box and began to twirl the dial.

The phone box he was leaning against suddenly began to trill. Finally! He stepped in and lifted the receiver.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello!" the tone was jovial.

"Hello?" the voice had sounded wrong and he realised just as he was tapped on the shoulder that the phone wasn't holding the voice.

"Right here." He spun around to see handsome grinning at him. The next part needed no acting.

"Wha? Who are you?" Handsome flashed him an infuriating smile.

"I was going to ask you the same question," Williams let the confusion on his face show; much to his annoyance at the charade.

"I don't understand," Handsome sighed, his lip curling.

"Let me take a guess, you were told to wait for a call, right?" Williams didn't answer. "I," he said, "was told to make a call."

Williams paused for a second, thinking through his options. He decided to test the man; to see what he did next. He quickly pushed his way out of the phone box. The man followed him. A hand tightened on his arm so he swung himself around.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He saw the man's gaze flit over his face and then before Williams could react pushed his chin to the side.

"Had a medical recently?" Williams suddenly knew that he was going to hate the rest of his time undercover. He was right.

A little over two hours later Williams was sitting in the same car as a murderer. Bodie – the name Handsome had given him, but he couldn't tell if it was an alias or not – seemed distracted, not really noticeable to many people but Williams was well trained.

He felt ashamed however; that he'd let him just go off with that gun and kill that woman. He'd tried desperately to think of a way to stop him without busting himself but he'd run dry of ideas. So he'd just sat in the car and waited. Waited until he'd heard the gun. Then Bodie had fairly hared out and yelled at him to get moving. So he had.

Now he was following the man through the clutter leading to the warehouse. Ferris was waiting for them. As they approached he stood up; flicking away a chocolate wrapper. Williams just about controlled his snort of derision. Didn't that man do anything but eat chocolate?

"Where's the gun?" Bodie cut in smoothly before he could get his thoughts together.

"We dumped it." Ferris raised his eyebrows and Williams hastily added;

"That's what the instructions said." Shrugging the fat man accepted their story.

"Good," envelopes passed hands and Williams stuffed his straight into his pocket. Bodie, in contrast, slit his open but his face didn't change when he saw the bills neatly placed inside. He had obviously been expecting it and was assured that that was what he was getting. Probably going to gamble it all away on the 'gee-gees' as he called them, he thought acidly.

"Got another job for you,"

"What sort of job?" Williams suddenly felt nervous. He wasn't sure if he would be able to go through with a 'judge of character' and if he failed… then he was dead.

"We're only in one business." One Ferris knew very well. Bodie's voice was dark and he said;

"When?" Ferris' answer confirmed Williams' concerns.

"Right now." He turned and stalked away, the pair trailing after him. "Bring him down," Ferris ordered; glee was clear in his tone.

They passed into what Williams thought of as the 'medical' room. Twig stood there, his gun snouted at a curly-haired man, dressed in a donkey jacket, who didn't bat an eyelid as they filed in. His captor glared at them and then flicked his gaze back to his prisoner. Something in the room changed; he sensed something that wasn't supposed to be there, before it snapped off. Somehow Williams caught an air of a deliberate poker face. Ferris didn't seem to have noticed. Calmly he offered a gun.

"Who wants this?" he asked. Neither man made a move. Williams didn't want to have to kill this man. Whatever he had done couldn't be illegal; hell! He was most likely some bloke who'd just stumbled in the wrong place at the wrong time. However Bodie reached for it.

"I'll do it," Ferris smiled.

"I bet you would," he said; echoing Williams' thought. "I bet it was you who shot the old girl." His gaze rested on Williams and he felt a quiver of fear. "Let's see you in action, son."

His mind began to race. He couldn't think of a way out of this that wouldn't expose him, he could gun down Twig and then haul Ferris in for questioning. But Bodie was a mystery, as was whoever was organizing this and if he let this spiderwebby deception break he was for the high jump.

"You want me to do it here?"

"Here and now." Worthless plans swirled around his head, rejected because of their impracticality as he levelled his gun arm. He just hoped if he did have to shoot him he didn't have to inform the family. He hesitated, just a fraction too long.

"What are you waiting for?" Ferris sounded suspicious. Williams gulped.

"Not here." Bodie's voice sounded light and everyone stopped. "Not with that camera up there."

The moment seemed to stretch on forever. Williams waited with his heart in his mouth, if Bodie was ignored and he was ordered to shoot… finally Ferris relaxed and Williams would've sworn that Bodie had too.

"The man's careful, I like that." He swung around and looked hard at him. "But you keep the gun and you," the last disrupted by a sharp jab, "do it!"

The forest shone with a soft green light. But soon it'd be a crime scene if he couldn't figure something out, and he did have the half-formed start of a plan. Bodie stepped forward but Williams planted his hand on the man's chest and pushed him away. He'd have a better chance of saving Curls if he had the gun. Curls circled warily, staring at him, gulping oxygen. Williams raised his gun, ready to spin around and kill Bodie. He didn't get a chance. Bodie leaped and before he knew it the gun he'd been holding was directed at him.

"Cutting it a bit fine weren't you?" Curls looked annoyed. Williams gawked.

"I knew he wouldn't do it." Bodie seemed unperturbed at his exasperated tone.

"Oh, you knew that did you?" Williams shook off his scared-kid impression and demanded;

"What the hell's going on? Who are you?" Curls glanced over at Bodie.

"You tell him."

"No, you tell him." Curls turned to him and announced;

"We are CI5,"

Suddenly everything made sense. The feeling back at the warehouse, the wrongness of Bodie, his quick save of Curls, even his attitude clicked into place. They were partners. They were CI5. Williams smiled inwardly at the same time as he cursed silently. Dawson was going to hate this! CI5 was not easy to work with.

"Show me your ID," he demanded. Curls gave him a scornful look.

"We're not carrying ID, we're undercover," he said in a tone that implied that Williams had no idea what undercover meant.

"Undercover." Williams repeated. He gestured towards the gun in Bodie's hand. "May I?" Bodie shrugged; glanced over at Curls and then to Williams astonishment handed it over. One hand was still smarting from Bodie's attack so he gripped it with the other one, relishing this moment. The tree stump exploded in burst of fire. He handed the gun back.

"I'm undercover too. I'm Williams – MI6."

Their faces were a picture.