It seems the D&M muse hasn't let me go quite yet. This is likely to be three or four chapters long, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long between updates. Please let me know what you think :)

Chapter 1

James Dempsey sat at his desk and began the tedious process of filing away the paperwork from the white-collar fraud case. The team had done well to bring in the arrest but now had to label hundreds of evidence bags and cross-reference thousands of files – it was a part of the job no one looked forward to, and he hated it more than most.

Most of the team were busy, tidying up and packing away, but the successful arrest meant that even with all the filing to finish Dempsey was in a good mood and the office was full of the sound of chatter. Dempsey closed the file he'd been working on and looked towards his partner. Harry was bent over a packing crate, matching evidence labels with a list on a clipboard. A small wrinkle appeared at her brow and she squinted at one of the labels, then looked again at the clipboard. She ran her finger down the list, smiling as she found what she was looking for. She made a mark on the list and put the bag in the crate, before sighing and picking up the next one. Dempsey allowed himself to watch a second bag be packed away then threw a joke in Fry's direction before returning to his own task.

When Spikings threw open the squad room doors, the whole team looked up. Spikings cleared his throat meaningfully and Dempsey saw that Spikings was joined by another man, who was smiling as he looked at the faces staring in his direction.

Spikings said, "In contradiction to their usual levels of observation, upstairs have noticed that we've closed the fraud job and seen fit to throw another operation our way." He stroked his moustache and glanced around the room. "It's a smuggling case. And we are lucky enough to be joined on this job by DS Julian Simmons-Robinson here." Spikings gestured in the man's direction, who smiled and nodded at the team. Spikings continued, "Sergeant Simmons-Robinson has inside knowledge on the op. He'll be working with Dempsey and Makepeace and will brief them on how to proceed." Spikings rubbed his hands together for a moment, waiting for his instructions to sink in, then gave a small nod as he walked into his office, leaving Simmons alone in the middle of the room.

Dempsey watched as Harry sent a warm smile in Simmons-Robinson's direction. "Hello," she said. "I'm Harriet Makepeace. Welcome to the team."

Simmons-Robinson smiled gratefully back and wandered over to Harry's desk. She waved towards a chair and he sat down, murmuring a hello. Dempsey thought Simmons-Robinson was maybe a little younger than him, a little taller. He had the healthy, wholesome look of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, with thick blonde hair and broad shoulders. Dempsey looked from Simmons-Robinson to Harry and pushed away the wave of unease that rose in his stomach.

Dempsey pushed his filing aside and went to join his partner at her desk. He stuck out his hand. "Jim Dempsey. Good to have you on board."

The DS shook Dempsey's hand. "Delighted to be here," he said. "And at work I just tend to go by Simmons. The double barrel's a bit of a mouthful, I know. Or Julian."

"Sure," said Dempsey, smiling. "Simmons it is." He moved around Harry's desk a little so he was standing between her and Simmons.

"So, Julian," said Harry, "what brings you to SI-10?"

Simmons stood and walked around to the other side of Harry's desk, so he could look at both Harry and Dempsey. "I'm usually with SI-7, the international crime boys over in Fenchurch East. Our last job was the murder of a Russian national in Hyde Park – you won't have heard of it, we had to keep it hush-hush. During the course of the investigation we came across a chap called Alexi Fedorov, a player in the international art scene. He wasn't a suspect in our case, had what you might call a bit part, but then his name was flagged in relation to a new job. Which is why I'm here."

Harry smiled up at him. "What's the job?"

"Smuggling precious artworks out of Russia and into the UK. Fedorov was part of the old Russian aristocracy, you know, before the revolution."

"Makepeace here's very familiar with the aristocracy," said Dempsey. Harry shot him an irritated look and smiled back at Simmons, gesturing for him to continue.

"The art smuggling is your field in SI-10," said Simmons, "but because I've had some exposure to the key suspect, the high-ups thought it would be useful if I bowled along with you for a while, give you the benefit of my experience." Simmons gave a self-deprecating laugh and Makepeace's lips curved upwards in response.

"I'm sure we'll all benefit from having you around," said Harry. Dempsey wasn't so sure.

~ o ~

Harry, Simmons and Dempsey began planning their approach to the smuggling operation. Simmons had intelligence that Fedorov's gang were planning to bring the artwork into London via a gallery owner called Phillipe Lefevre, but the team needed more detail.

"We could pose as buyers with an interest in pre-revolutionary Russian art," said Dempsey. "See if Lefevre is willing to give us any hints about what he might have to offer and when."

"Good idea," said Harry. "We could pose as a couple with a large chequebook and a small interest in importation paperwork."

"I'll have to dig out my best suit," said Dempsey.

Harry paused for a beat. "Actually," she said, "I was thinking that Julian and I would be the couple on this occasion."

"Super," said Simmons. "I'm used to undercover work from SI-7 and I've got some background knowledge of the art world from that last job. Should work out well." He smiled at Harry and Dempsey.

"But we always work together," said Dempsey, looking at Harry. "We know how we work."

Harry smiled at Simmons. "He's not always like this," she said to Simmons, as Dempsey bristled alongside. "He normally goes for whatever will get the job done best. And I think you and I would make a more convincing couple for this job."

Harry was smiling up at Simmons but Dempsey's eyes were on Harry. He realised she was waiting for some sort of comment so he swallowed what was bugging him and shrugged, saying, "Fine, sure." He looked from Harry to Simmons and saw how they looked together with their elegant, refined features and properly pronounced vowels, and he could see why Harry thought they made a convincing couple. They looked good together, Dempsey couldn't deny it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared down at the desk top.

~ o ~

Dempsey sat alone at a table in the corner of the bar, nursing a pint of Heineken. He'd chosen the spot because it gave him a good view of the table Harry and Simmons would be sitting at any minute now. He checked his watch as he heard the door click open. Right on time.

Harry and Simmons entered the bar together, his hand at her back, guiding her towards their table. Dempsey swallowed. He took a sip of his pint and pretended to look at the newspaper lying in front of him. He tuned his hearing into Harry and Simmons' conversation, which seemed to be a friendly disagreement about a book he hadn't read and its adaptation into a movie he hadn't seen. There was a pause in the chat and Dempsey couldn't stop himself from looking up. He looked away again quickly as he saw Simmons tuck a strand of hair behind Harry's ear. They were on a job, he reminded himself. The point was to look like a convincing couple.

Just then the door opened again and a stocky, middle-aged man walked up to the bar. He bought a bottle of red and asked for three glasses. Holding the glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other, he turned around, scanning the tables. He caught sight of Harry and Simmons and walked over to them, offering them the bottle in greeting. Dempsey watched as Harry sent him a charming smile and Simmons gestured towards the spare chair. This part of the operation was critical. Dempsey wasn't used to playing observer.

Dempsey knew that Simmons had managed to set up the meeting with Lefevre through a contact he'd made on the previous job. He heard Simmons introduce himself as Jeremy Smythe and Harry as his wife Georgina. "Nice to meet you," she said with a smile, which was returned in a guarded fashion.

"So," said Lefevre. "What's your interest in my business?"

Dempsey listened as Simmons set out the agreed spiel, hinting at a desire to purchase interesting Eastern European artwork off the books, money no object. Lefevre seemed interested, dropping hints that he may know someone who would be able to fulfil their needs. Dempsey began to relax, until Lefevre turned his eyes more closely onto Harry.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Who, me?" said Harry. Dempsey risked a glance at their table and saw Harry giving Lefevre a dazzling smile. Unfortunately Lefevre didn't appear to be in the mood to be dazzled.

"Yes, you. At a party, I think, down in Kent. Only your name doesn't seem familiar."

Dempsey tensed. There was always a danger of being recognised when working under cover but if Harry's cover was blown now the whole operation would be in jeopardy.

Harry crinkled her nose and gave a small shake of her head. "I don't know what you mean," she said, smiling, but Lefevre didn't seem convinced.

"No," he said. "I feel sure I've seen you before, but I don't remember the name Georgina Smythe."

Dempsey watched, worried, as Harry looked unusually lost for words. But then Simmons took hold of her hand and gently kissed the back, while looking tenderly into Harry's eyes. "Darling," he said, "it's probably to do with your maiden name." He turned to Lefevre and said, "We haven't been hitched awfully long, to be honest with you. Before that she was a Macintyre. Georgie Macintyre. Does that ring a bell?"

Lefevre looked again at Harry. "Maybe," he said.

Harry sent Simmons a look of adoration before turning back to Lefevre. "He's so clever," she told him, putting a hand on Simmons' knee. "Now," she said. "Let's get down to business. I'm sure we can make it worth your while."

Dempsey continued his covert observation of the three of them. Harry and Simmons appeared to have got around Lefevre's reservations and were charming him into agreeing to connect them to the international art supplier. Dempsey looked away as he saw Harry scooting her chair closer to Simmons', her hand seemingly glued to his thigh and her whole body now resting against his side. Jesus, thought Dempsey, he knew they were playing at being newlyweds but could they not keep their hands off each other for a few minutes? He didn't want to examine too closely why he found the sight of Harry pressed up against Simmons quite so uncomfortable. Still, he couldn't deny he was relieved as he heard them agree the final details of the meeting with the supplier and Lefevre took his leave.

After a couple of minutes, Simmons stood up and walked around to Harry, pulling out her chair as she got to her feet. He helped her on with her coat and then gestured for her to walk with him to the door. When they reached the door he held it open for her, Dempsey overhearing him murmur, "After you." Dempsey watched through the window as Simmons and Harry wandered off down the street, Simmons' arm firmly around Harry's waist, Harry chatting away happily near his ear.

Dempsey didn't feel like rushing back to the office. He slowly finished his pint and made a half-hearted stab at the crossword before admitting that he'd better head back. He was pleased that the meeting with Lefevre had been successful and usually he'd be the first to celebrate, but the image of Simmons' hands on Harry was stuck in his head and it seriously dampened his mood.