Disclaimer: New Tricks isn't mine.

Le Visiteur

She sat down heavily on the old leather sofa in the living room, staring into the fire she'd just lit to warm the draughty French apartment. Max hated the cold. So did she, but she didn't complain about it as much as him. She'd been thinking a lot about their relationship recently. She'd always been dependent on him. From the moment they'd met, she'd relied on him to give her the comfort and strength that she'd need to rebuild her life. Even now, without him she'd be out of a job, not to mention homeless. Over the past few months, a fear had slowly infiltrated her mind- what would happen if they split up? She'd certainly have to move out, the apartment rightfully belonged to Max, but where would she go? She had no other friends here in France, or at least no friends as true as her boys.

Truth be told, she was dependent on Max for company, too. When he was away giving evidence in a foreign court, sometimes for weeks on end, the loneliness almost consumed her. During the day she could focus on work, supervising the team until Max returned, but at night there was nothing except an empty bed to look forward to. She still hadn't explored Paris, not properly, despite living in the city for eighteen months. Unlike London, where she could tell you every restaurant within a three mile radius of her house and probably more besides, here she only knew the large tourist places. Max rarely had time to show her around the city; she'd never met a busier man. She appreciated why he'd hired her, the job was impossible for him to do alone.

She was fond of her work, she had to admit. Especially on the days when she and Max worked together. They made a good team. The atmosphere when they cracked a case together could only be described as electric. She chuckled softly to herself. Fifty five years old and still getting a buzz from solving cases. These cases were different from anything she'd worked on before, though. The things she'd seen, the people she'd met… Although, like UCOS, there was still the same motivation to solve crimes for closure, for justice, even though sometimes, in the eyes of the public, there was more pressing work to be done.

She returned her thoughts to the fear that, before now, she had never really allowed herself to fully consider. If they split up, she had two real choices- either she started looking for a new job in the force and moved wherever that required her to go, or she returned to London. That thought filled her with dread. Yes, Gerry and Rob were there. Jack and Brian were there. Her mother was there. It made sense for her to go back, given that she'd lived there for the majority of her lifetime, but…she just couldn't bring herself to. The house that she'd been imprisoned in for over a week was still there. So were the men that had abducted her, although they were safely behind bars. They'd made sure of that. Not to mention that the team had resented her for leaving. They'd never said anything, but she'd seen it in their eyes. She didn't blame them. Why should she get a new life handed to her on a plate when Gerry and Rob had been through exactly the same thing? Even Jack probably deserved it more than her.

He'd loved France, because Mary loved it. They'd always planned to move to a little fishing village on the west coast after Jack retired, but Hanson had got in the way of that. She remembered that day as vividly as if it were yesterday. She had just been promoted to DCI, leaving Jack's team to head up her own. It was lunchtime, and she was sat in her new office, looking out of the window across the car park. In her peripheral vision, she'd seen a figure weaving through the rainbow of parked cars. She'd turned her full attention to the person, wondering why they were running. Initially she had assumed it was a criminal escaping from custody, but then she focused in, squinting from her seventh floor window. She'd recognised the long coat billowing out behind the man, she knew the Ford Focus he was climbing into. Jack. She instantly grabbed her own coat and marched out of the office at full pelt, driven by some kind of sixth sense that told her something was wrong. By the time she had reached the car park, he was already long gone. Later that day, she finally tracked him down to the hospital, and found him at the bedside of his beautiful Mary, weeping. Precisely a year and a day following that, Mary had passed away. She sighed to herself, closing her eyes in a silent moment of remembrance. The creaking sound of the front door opening disturbed her from her reverie, and she rose from the sofa to greet her partner. He'd been away in Germany for three days, and the loneliness had already begun to take its toll on her. She'd missed him.

"Sandra," he greeted her, placing his suitcase on the wooden hallway floor and holding his arms out for her. She stepped into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder as he placed a gentle kiss on her hair. "I've missed you." He whispered, inhaling the strawberry scent of her hair. "Likewise." She murmured, tightening her hold on him for a moment before letting go. They looked at each other teasingly before she gave in and grinned, leaning in to place a slow, tender kiss on his lips. He smiled, enjoying the moment before gently pulling away. "I'll cook dinner," he said, "My treat."

It was two hours later, and the homely smell of Beef Bourguignon was filling the old Parisian apartment. She was sat in her favourite armchair, reading a French magazine which she still didn't fully understand, despite living and working in France for eighteen months. Max had tried to teach her the basics but had deemed her a 'cas désespéré'- a hopeless case. The French language was a strange thing. The sound of Max's phone ringing somewhere in another room distracted her, and she heard him run into the bedroom where it was charging.

"Hello?" she heard him answer, slightly breathless. She could tell it wasn't anyone from work by the tone of his voice, plus the fact that he was speaking in English.

"Okay…why?" he sounded confused. She waited to hear more to guess who it might be.

"Oh I see. No, not at all, don't worry about it. You've done the right thing under the circumstances." Now she really was bewildered. She placed her magazine on the coffee table and wandered into the bedroom, where Max was sat on the edge of the bed, his phone still pressed to his ear. He noticed her presence and reached out his arm, indicating her to sit on his lap. She did so, worried about the frown on his face. She still couldn't hear the voice emanating from the phone, so she continued listening to Max's side of the conversation.

"How long will you be? I'll pick you up from the airport if you like,"

"Are you sure? It's expensive."

"Okay, we'll see you soon. Bye."

He ended the phone call, putting his phone on the bedside table with a sigh, and resting his head on her shoulder.

"What is it? Who are you picking up from the airport?" she asked, undeniably curious.

"We're going to have a visitor."

For Beth xxx