Stuart Turner drained the last dregs of tea from his paper cup and entered CID. For a change he was almost early. Which was cause for celebration, as he had been perilously close to late three days running, and had had to run the gauntlet of DI Neil Manson's glares and pointed glances at his watch.

Stu just wished he could think of a way to tell Manson the reason for his state of lateness. It was the new downstairs neighbour. Whether it was bicycles in the hallway left specifically where he could trip over them, or her constant dancing and working out at odd hours of the night, his new downstairs neighbour was a pain. And she lived directly beneath him. Hell is definitely below.

"DS Turner....." before he'd even had a chance to get his jacket off..... Stuart sighed inwardly, and turned round, plastering his trademark grin on his face. Inspector Weston was right behind him, "there's a young woman in reception, asking for you."

"For me?" he asked warily, his smile fading just a little.

"Yes, she said her name is Evangeline Smyth." Stuart's smile snapped clean off. Today had the hallmarks of disaster writ upon it already and it was only five to eight. He crushed the paper cup in his hand with some vehemence and hurled it at the bin, it landed with a resounding clang, and he realised to his horror that there was now a roomful of eyes on him. Grace, Jo and Stevie were gathered together in one spot, they'd clearly overheard his exchange with Inspector Weston. For a second Stu's overheated imagination could see crocodiles circling.

"Thank you, ma'am." he said, summoning up his manners from somewhere. He turned to push open the door which led to the stairs, aware that the three women were smiling still, and that Jo and Stevie were now following him. He tried to come up with something to deflect them, but could think of nothing that wouldn't make everything a great deal worse. Saying nothing was better than laying himself open to an endless stream of jokes for a week.

He reached reception and looked around, he couldn't see her, "where?" he waved an irritable hand, and the receptionist nodded.... just as he realised that she was behind him

"Hi Stuey....." He closed his eyes. Counted to ten.... then opened them again. Turned around. He was out of luck, she wasn't a figment of his imagination. Took in the grins on Stevie's face, and Jo's face. His heart sank, and he snapped irritably. "Don't call me that."

"Stu by name.... Stew by nature...... what's eating you this time?"

Unable to bear the delighted expressions on the faces of his colleagues any more, and not wanting to give them any more of a floor show than they were already getting, Stuart glared at his nemesis, and opened his mouth to snap back. Jo eyed him sideways, and stepped forward. "DC Jo Masters, Sun Hill, and this is DC Stevie Moss. Forgive my colleague's manners."

"Evangeline Smyth. But do call me Evie," Evie stepped forward and shook Jo's hand, then Stevie's. She cocked her head on one side and surveyed Stu. "You have my sympathies. He'd be nice, if he wasn't such an officious tight arse." Stu's eyebrows snapped together in a hard straight line and he drew breath in preparation to snarl at her. Evie made a face, and he subsided, muttering something under his breath, annoyed that Jo and Stevie, who scarcely needed any help in that department, now had ammunition to fire at him for at least ten days.

Jo glanced sideways at her partner. He was looking really stressed and irritable, but she knew him inside out, and knew that under all that attitude he was feeling hurt. She would deal with his ruffled feathers a little later, but this young woman had come to see Stu for a reason, and Jo was intrigued by what it might be.

"How can we help you?" She steered the young woman in the direction of the private room, with a reluctant and slightly irritable Stuart following.