Hello everyone! It's been many many moons since I last attempted to write. I have to get the creative juices flowing when I get inspired. I'm kind of stepping out of my usual type of romance fanfiction and trying to write for a male/male relationship. If you know anime, it is more shounen-ai than yaoi.

Can't wait for Series 4 of Whitechapel. In the meantime, I thought I'd try writing again. This is how I imagine how Kent and Chandler's relationship would be in my mind's eye. If you haven't seen Series 3 yet, you may want to watch that first since it contains spoilers. Ok, I'll shut up now. :)

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me :) Thanks to ITV for creating a great series.


FanFiction\Whitechapel: Someday

Chapter 1: A Visitor from the Past

Detective Constable Emerson Kent loosened his tie as he entered into his flat and dropped it unceremoniously onto the coffee table along with his blazer and plopped onto the couch after a particularly long day's work. It had only been three months since the end of the Bogeyman murders, but the passing of time had not diminished the effect of that fateful day when Kent last saw Morgan Lamb alive.

He had been pissed off royally at the therapist, and with good reason, for what she had said to him behind closed doors at the precinct. Who the bloody hell did she think she was making uninformed opinions about him as well as his relationship with DI Chandler? She had accused Kent of sabotaging Chandler's happiness, when it was never his intention. Perhaps her observation hurt more, because there was a small element of truth in what she said. He should have been glad that the boss seemed to come out of his shell and was pursuing a relationship with her, but he couldn't. It gnawed away at his soul, much to his dismay, and he knew why.

The incident only served to remind Kent that Chandler did not see him as anything more than a subordinate. That realization was all the more painful because there wasn't a single thing he could do to change the situation without confessing his feelings. It wasn't the fact that Chandler took a fancy to Morgan…well, not entirely that. What hurt Kent the most was that after all this time working together side by side, he thought that Chandler trusted him. He used to take his word at face value and listen to his input and valued his opinions. All right, so his theory might have had no real merit and it was driven partially by jealousy, but Chandler would have never chewed him out like that in times past. He would have at least considered the remote possibility that it could have been true that she could have working along with the murderer as an accomplice. It wasn't that farfetched a theory, was it?

But the boss only had eyes and ears for that woman. And it had clouded his judgment to the point where he was thinking with his heart and not his head. What if Kent's theory had been correct? The case could have been compromised and blown up in their faces. It was bad enough that the upper echelon of the police force would never recognize their department for their hard work in almost capturing the Ripper copycat.

Wasn't it his job to call out his boss for the good of the investigation? How could he take her side over his? He had only known Morgan for a few days. Kent and Chandler had worked together for almost three years. And yet Chandler had no difficulty accusing him of being the mole in the Kray case without any real proof, which was still a sore subject for Kent.

Kent was not a compulsive, jealous person by nature. But whether it was a conscious or subconscious decision, he had attempted to drive a wedge between Chandler and Morgan. And because of his jealousy, it had inadvertently caused her death. Detective Sergeant Miles had been the only one to notice his agitated state despite the chaos of the aftermath.

"Don't blame yourself, lad. Cindy Watney was the one who killed Morgan. Not you."

"But I allowed her to have access to the room when I left. I was there. I should have stayed behind."

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen. Don't take it so hard on yourself. It was a tragic accident. Listen, no one is going to blame you for what happened."

"The boss probably does. I just know it," Kent replied quietly.

The young detective closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cushions as he tried to block out the events that kept re-playing in his mind. He was loathe to admit it, but he was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Every day it was getting more difficult to hide his feelings for his superior. Now with the sudden and tragic death of Morgan, he feared DI Chandler was going to be worse off than ever before.

At first Kent thought it was just admiration on his part and a bit of hero worship when the tall, unassuming, and peculiar detective inspector first assumed leadership of their division in the Whitechapel district. Kent's devotion gradually turned into something he never expected. The youngest of the detective constables had fallen for Detective Inspector Chandler.

Kent would never forget the night the boss first showed up in a well-tailored and very expensive Savile Row tuxedo. Anyone would have thought he was attending a society function instead of a gruesome murder scene. Those were the days. Everyone, including Kent, believed he wouldn't last very long, and had only been appointed the head of their department because of his connections. DI Chandler ended up proving that despite his unorthodox methods, he could do the job. In fact, he had brought in a breath of fresh air that was desperately needed in the department, as far as Kent was concerned.

Before Chandler came along, Kent had been keeping the status quo and not making waves at work. Because of his status on the ladder of seniority, he had been treated like everyone's whipping boy since he was the least experienced and youngest of the group. The shake-up that Chandler brought had brought a renaissance for him. He was taking a more active role in the various cases as well as being nurtured in crime solving techniques. He discovered that he in fact, was damn good at his job. Despite the constant ribbing he took from his more experienced colleagues about being a kiss-up, he never wavered in his support of DI Chandler.

It had taken everyone a while to come to accept and respect their new boss, especially DS Miles. But even the seasoned gritty veteran Detective Sergeant had come around and become more of a father figure to his younger and less battle tested superior. If things weren't already complicated enough, Kent even envied the relationship that Miles and Chandler shared on a professional level. It was to be expected considering the nature of their profession, but Kent couldn't help it. Even if Chandler didn't show a romantic interest in him, he would have been satisfied with a professional closeness. The way things stood now, the older man probably couldn't bear to even be in the same room with him.

Kent's pride had taken a right beating when Chandler angrily rebuked him for suggesting that Morgan could have been involved in the Bogeyman murders. He had come oh so close to admitting his feelings, but fortunately stopped himself in time by backing down. He even swallowed his pride and apologized to her at Chandler's gentle, but firm request for his sake and to keep the peace. Kent was smart enough to realize that he was fighting an uphill battle, but he couldn't change the way he felt any more than he could change his DNA. Plus, he didn't have the will or courage to leave. He kept hoping and believing that someday, things would change.

The sudden buzz of the doorbell jolted him out of his thoughts. Who could it be at this hour?

"Who is it?"

"Don't tell me you've forgotten me already," a familiar female voice answered from the other side of the door.

Impossible! It couldn't be her.

His eyes suddenly lit up in delight as he opened the door to find his old college roommate and friend smiling at him.

"Danni! What are you doing here?"

"Emmy! It's so good to see you again!" replied the petite blond as she reached up to hug him affectionately.

He groaned in dismay. "I told you never to call me that in public," he said, but returned the hug just as warmly.

"Sorry. Old habits are hard to break. Aren't you going to ask me in?"

"Where are my manners? Please, make yourself at home. Would you like a drink?"

"No. No, thank you."

Danielle Walker slid into the nearby armchair while he sat just opposite of her. She still had those long, naturally curly, honey-blond tresses and baby blue eyes that were the envy of any woman.

"You're looking as beautiful as ever, Danni. I see that some things never change."

"And you're still just as sweet, you flatterer. Am I intruding?"

"Not at all. I just got home from work."

"You've really moved up in the world, Emerson. You went from a safe desk job and petty thefts to dealing with serial killers. I couldn't help but worry about you when I read about the Jack the Ripper copycat murders and that nasty business with the Kray Twins."

"Unfortunately, Whitechapel hasn't lacked for boredom since you left. It's nice to know that you still worry about me."

"I …um…I also read that you were injured in the line of duty," she said quietly.

In their college days, she had always been protective of the quiet, studious, and bright young man who she had the honor of calling a friend. Danni knew that he could easily take care of himself, but it hadn't stopped her from worrying about him.

"Hey, they can't get rid of me that easily. I'm fine now Danni. Really I am."

"Honest?"

"Scout's honor. And what doesn't kill me makes me stronger."

She smiled gently. "You've changed. What happened to the man who would always find a solitary place and have a good cry when things didn't go right or got too much for him?"

"Oh, I still do that," he admitted with a wry chagrin. "What are you doing here? I thought you were working in New York?"

"I needed to get away for a little bit," she replied softly. "And I missed home, so here I am."

"In all the years we known each other, you've always had a yearning to leave home in search of adventure. There's something else."

Danni smiled and reached over to clasp his hand in hers.

"Still as intuitive as ever. It's no wonder you're a Detective Constable."

"That's what it says on my badge. It must be true," Kent quipped humorously, making her laugh.

"I really missed you, Emmy. You always knew how to cheer me up. And you always knew me. You're right. Something is wrong."

"Tell me all about it."

Danni got up and walked over to the window, crossing her arms over each other.

"I shouldn't even be here at all, and I've no right dropping in out of the blue and burdening you with my problems. I did it to you all the time back in college. And I'm still doing it now."

Kent walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him.

"It's ok, Danni. I'm listening."

He didn't mind forgetting about his own problems for a little while, especially if he could help out a friend.

Danni sighed resignedly. "I've always known what I wanted out of life, Emerson. I was always in control. Now all of a sudden I don't know what to do."

"That's not so unusual, is it? All of us experience self-doubt every now and then."

"But have you ever felt as though you were constantly living in fear? That there are times where you feel like you can't function?"

"I haven't personally experienced it, but I know it's not as uncommon as you would think."

"Everything was going perfectly. I had great fulfilling career, a beautiful penthouse suite overlooking Central Park, and boyfriend who would do anything for me. Then one day, as I was leaving for work, I suddenly felt my heart palpitate unevenly. My hands felt clammy and I couldn't breathe. I felt like the walls were closing in on me."

"Sounds like you were having an anxiety attack. Did you go see a doctor?"

"She couldn't find anything wrong physically. It's all in my mind."

"In my experience, I've found that there is always a trigger to these kinds of cases. We just have to pinpoint what that trigger is."

Danni looked at him directly in the eyes. "I think you're that trigger, Emerson."

To Be Continued

Note: I promise, things will start to pick up in the next chapter. I just wanted to have another person that Kent can talk with. And trying to build the mood. Don't you just want to give Kent a big old hug? Hope to see you next time!

Uploaded: 03-12-13