L is for the way you look at me............

We're undercover, playing at being the loving husband and wife, living in the lap of luxury. According to DI Manson, we may be here for some time. I walk into the bedroom and toss my new suitcase, along with my new wardrobe, onto the bed. We've kept our names. Easier to stick with Jo and Stuart, using his surname, for all the world like we really are a married couple. I see the look in his eyes when we discuss our back story, working it out with Stevie. She winks at me when Stuart isn't looking. I look down at my hands, hiding my eyes from her gaze, because I know exactly what she's thinking. Trouble is, now I'm starting to think it too.

Sometimes I catch Stu looking at me, and there's this soft look in his eyes, a kind of longing. Sometimes I wonder…I mean, I'm out and that's me, but there are times I see a woman pushing a pram and think about children. And I look at my handsome, intelligent, eligible and available best friend and I start to think about it. I look at him and wonder what our baby might look like.

"Penny for them?"

"Not worth that much," I sigh as I turn around.

He's behind me; he can move really quietly when he wants to, which is ever so slightly disconcerting. That soft look is back in his eyes. He comes towards me with something in his hand. "Window dressing," he explains.

I look puzzled. He takes my left hand in his; for some strange reason, his fingers seem to be trembling slightly. He slips a wedding ring and then an engagement ring on my finger. He's got another ring clasped in his hand. Our eyes meet and I take the ring from his hand. His eyes have this confused look in them as I take his left hand and slip the heavy gold band onto his ring finger. I drop my eyes as his eyes ask questions my mind isn't quite ready to answer. I'm still holding his hand, and I look down at the strong brown fingers still clasped in mine, and feel strangely reluctant to break the moment.

The front door bell rings and we both jump.

It's Terry and Mickey. Supposedly this is Stu's cards night in with the lads.

I get ready to go out, but the truth is I am only popping next door for a quick dinner with my new best friend, Marian Ross, wife of wealthy, Aidan Ross. And Aidan Ross is coming over to join in the cards.

As I check my reflection in the mirror, I wonder for the millionth time just what it is that Manson thinks we're doing here. Surely this sort of stuff is for the Drugs Squad. I've done plenty of undercover, but this is different. For the first time in my career, my mind is only half on what's in front of me, and that's dangerous. And my partner is also distracted. This thing between us, it's growing. I ponder the true meaning of 'line of sight' as I walk down the stairs, drawing wolf whistles from the menfolk in the sitting room. Stu gets to his feet and I move towards him. It's like the flow of the sea, and just as irresistible, as we glide into each other's arms. He bends his head to kiss me.

We should have practiced. We should have tried this out before we let ourselves into this mess. His lips meet mine, and the world fades to grey. We're the last two people on the planet...I'm completely lost in the sensation of kissing my best friend.

The wolf whistles finally penetrate, we break apart. Stu's breathing is slightly heavy, as though he's been running, and the look in his eyes...I hold him there in my arms a moment or two while he regains his equilibrium...who am I kidding?...if he had let go then and there, my knees would have disappeared! We're in the middle of a dangerous case, there's a ruthless killer and drug dealer sitting on our sofa less than ten feet from where we're standing, and we both just completely forgot his existence. That's a mistake that could get both of us killed.

"How long did you two say you've been married?" Aidan Ross has a harsh voice, and my hypersensitive hearing picks up a certain tone.

"Ff...four months," Stu manages. His eyes still look a bit glazed, but he's pulling himself together. I put my hand up to his cheek and his fingers clasp it there for a second.

There's a snicker of laughter, and I can feel the moment of tension start to dissipate.

"See you later," I breathe. He nods.

O is for the only one I see..................

I'm anxious. We'd nearly lost the plot in front of the target and our colleagues. I caught the confusion in both Mickey and Terry's eyes as Stuart and I parted. They covered brilliantly for us, but you could see that speculative light in there. And the flash of concern. They knew that this was not a time for levity. If Stu and I couldn't get our heads back in the game, all our lives were at risk.

Anyhow, to dinner. Marian Ross is absolutely not my type. Glossy blonde, full of herself, a Jordan wannabe without the charm.

The evening comes to an end, and I make my thank yous and goodnights, and leave. It's only a few seconds to our front door. There, I'm thinking of it as our front door, and I know that what's behind it is already rocking my world. We don't need this right now. So it is going to have to be up to me to get us back on track.

He's in the kitchen, he's shed his shoes and socks, his shirt is untucked and mostly unbuttoned. He's been drinking, not heavily, but enough. He's got a glass of wine on the black marble work surface in front of him. He's leaning on the worktop, head bowed, apparently staring at some imaginary stain he can see in front of him.

"Stu."

He raises a hand. "We came this close," he measures a distance with his thumb and forefinger, perhaps half an inch, "to blowing this tonight." He hangs his head forward a little more. "It's my fault. I'm sorry."

I can see the tension in his shoulders, in the stiffness of his back. His entire posture is defensive. And right now I'm drawn to him. So much for my resolve. I put my hand on his broad, strong shoulder, and something plunges in my own soul, goes into freefall. And now I know the feeling that's been building is very, very real. I don't do men, but my best friend is the one exception.

His head turns, he looks back at me, and I catch my breath at the look of mingled hope, desperation, self-loathing and despair in his gaze. "I'm sorry Jo..."

I pull on his shoulder a little, turning him towards me. "Why are you sorry?" I look in his eyes, but he looks down.

"I made a pass at you." I can hardly hear him, as he mutters it.

We're in a maelstrom of emotion, the centre of a vortex, a hurricane within a hurricane...we're bang in the centre of the eye right now, but at any moment that could change. We don't need this, but I look into those beautiful brown eyes and suddenly there's nothing else on this earth that I want. My eyes and heart are so full of him that I can't think straight.

He's hating himself. He isn't going to close the distance between us...so I do. Resolve flies out of the window. Because at this moment in time, I have a vision in my head, and only he can make that vision a reality. I step forward, my hands are on his shoulders, and they slide up to cup his jaw, and gently push his head up so I can see into his eyes.

He wants me.

I brush my lips across his. It's now or never....... and I want it to be now. He looks at me in hope and wonder. I take his hand firmly in mine and lead him towards the stairs.

V is very, very, extra ordinary.............

We're facing each other in the bedroom, and his eyes are full of nervous hope now. He wants us, he wants me, but he's scared to step forward in case it's not the truth. I look into his eyes as I step closer, his arms close around me and he bends his head to kiss me. Neither of us really has a clue what we're doing. We're running on pure instinct, and instinct won't let go.

I dispense with the last two buttons holding his shirt together, and push the crisp white material out of the way so I can get my hands on his skin. That's what I want: flesh to flesh. Behind my back he's pulled down my zip, and my shift dress peels away an inch at a time. He's getting more aroused, more into it. We both are. Our hands are everywhere as our clothing drops to the floor, he pulls my now naked body up against his as his jeans hit the floor, and he bends to scoop me into his arms. I'm not a lightweight, but he lifts me up as though I weigh nothing.

We subside in an excited heap on the gorgeous, soft and extremely expensive bedset provided for us, or at any rate the happily married couple we're portraying. Well, there's nothing quite like a little truth in a lie to give it that extra edge. Just enough truth. So we'd kept our names, and now life was imitating artifice.

Stu concentrates on kissing me all over. I concentrate on finding his sensitive places, and there seem to be a great many. My particular favourite is that place just below his belly button, which I circle carefully and slowly with my thumb, and he makes contented noises deep in his throat, like a tiger's purr. It isn't that I have never been with a man, it's just not where my preference lies, and it had been a while. But we're both winging this. We're making hot, sweet love together and it is incredible.

E is even more than anyone that you adore and.........

I'm lying there, tangled up in the duvet with my partner lying next to me. My eyes are closed, and my fingers stray across the sheets and stroke his hip. He shifts, moving towards me, changing positions and slinging his arm around my waist. He's heavy and solid, and my fingers trace his bicep and move up his arm and across his shoulder. He settles comfortably, with a smile on his face, and he moves in closer, his eyes opening a fraction before he moves in for the kill.

"Round two," he whispers as he nips at the side of my neck. For one second, I think about the case, and what we're both supposed to be doing, then rational thought blows clean out of my head.

Love is all that I can give to you........

We're supposed to watching the neighbours, but somehow Stu and I can barely take our eyes off each other. That doesn't bode well for our chances of staying alive... and we're quite tired as well. This isn't going quite according to plan, though Stu's in with Aidan Ross. Curiously our performance in the hallway in front of the boys sealed that one. Three days we've been at this, but getting evidence is difficult. Ross is cagey and very clever. He wouldn't have made it to the top of his particular greasy pole if he hadn't been.

Stu's been round there a lot, giving it large, wearing a wire so every sentence is recorded, but there's still not enough to hang Ross with. Now Stu's getting frustrated. He told Manson that we don't stand a chance, and they disagreed quite fiercely.

I can't help feeling that part of Stu's fury at the DI has more to do with some misguided desire to protect me than the reality of the situation, but asking Stu about it is a tricky one. We're swimming around in a tide of emotions, some of them decidedly hormonal, and there are sharks circling. Neither of us is fully in the game. It's a very bad place to be.

I manage to corner Terry on one of his numerous visits to the house. We've worked together long enough, and we've known each other a long time.

"This isn't going well." I can barely look at Terry, I know he knows what's going on.

He looks at me. "You and Sarge got something going on?"

I search his face for signs of prurient interest, and see none. Just a real concern. He's been undercover; he knows what it's like. I take a deep breath and nod.

"Jo. this could get you killed."

"I know."

He leans closer, aware that although there isn't a bug here, there are others in the vicinity. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Well, that's alright then."

"Terry, I didn't ask for your sarcasm. I need your help."

He looks at me and sighs. "I know. But I honestly don't know what to say or how to help you. You and Stuart?"

Some of my feelings must have shown in my face, because his frown becomes even more worried, and he puts a hand over mine, squeezing it hard. "Be careful."

"Terry, I am careful. I just don't know how to handle this. Separate, we're sort of okay. Together, someone could drop a piano two feet from us and we wouldn't notice it."

Terry snorted. But couldn't disguise the worry on his face. Well that makes two of us.

Love is more than just a game for two.............

Stu is wound up. We've been at this for nearly a week now, and we don't have enough. Terry and Mickey are worried about us. I'm worried about us. The only one who doesn't seem concerned is DI Manson.

Okay. That's not wholly fair. The four of us are forming this mutual pool of stress and worry because Stu and I have chosen the worst time on earth to become physically aware of each other. We've been fond of each other for some time. Our relationship had been based on mutual respect and a little bit of admiration. Not that I would ever tell him, mind, that I admire his guts, tenacity and intuition, as he's quite cocky enough already...but the boon to Stuart's ego has now become the least of my problems. Because, some time after we walked through the front door of this place, posing as husband and wife, we fell in love. Real, emotional, heartfelt, soppy...Love. Hearts, flowers, gondolas on the canals, walking in the moonlight, kind of love.

I'm out. I'm proud of it. On paper, or anywhere else for that matter, this should not have happened. I don't do men, but I look at my smart, arrogant younger partner and I see cute babies with big brown eyes, picket fences around rose and wisteria-bedecked cottages, and the whole nine yards. Love, marriage, baby carriages. Where on earth did this come from? He touches me and the entire universe slips out of focus....

Only this morning, I was in the kitchen making breakfast, and he comes up right behind me, puts his hands on my waist. I turn round, put my hands on his shoulders and we just stare at each other. The world has disappeared. We're the only two people left in the universe. I know how I feel, and I know how he feels. There's this surprised look in his eyes, and a kind of wonder. The wow experience. Something that up until right now I had only experienced with women, only now I'm looking at my cocky sergeant and I'm in love.

He's leaning on the work top again, head down, staring at imaginary stains. His body language is positively screaming at me. I put a hand on his shoulder, half-expecting him to flinch away from me. He's that tense. He puts up a hand and covers mine with his. His fingers entwine with mine. I look at my hand and his, the fingers meshed together in an alternating pattern: slim and white, and broad and tanned. I can feel his eyes on me, but I'm not ready to look up into his. I know I will see love there, but I also know I will see the desire to bring this to an end. And that's what really scares me. Is he going to take a chance? A chance that could get both of us killed?

He pulls my hand up, holding it against his lips, and he kisses it over and over. I know he's going to do something reckless, but I'm powerless to resist. The truth? I want this to be over, over so that we can get on with the serious and unusual business of loving each other.

"I'm going over there." He looks me straight in the eye. Not a good development, I can feel it.

"Stu."

"I have to push it. If I don't we won't get anywhere."

I nod, very reluctantly. He pulls me into his arms and drops a quick kiss on my mouth.

"Back in a bit."

He lets go and walks out of the back door. I watch him go.

Fifteen minutes pass by. I know, because I stand in the kitchen and watch the minute hand sweep around the clock face. I am climbing the walls. So I break my gaze from the clock and attempt some busywork. Anything. Something. Even making the bed. I head upstairs.

Our bedroom is big. And somehow, Stu has already managed to make it look like his bachelor pad, his belongings are taking over, I need some space, so I pick up the shirt, the jeans, a couple of tee shirts and........

As I picked up the last tee shirt from the easy chair where he's assumed possession of the space, I look down. My heart stops beating. The wire that my cocksure partner is supposed to be wearing is draped over the chair. He's completely without backup. If he gets into trouble, there will be no one listening in. I pick up the wire, switch it on, and talk to it. In a conversational kind of way. Outwardly calm. Inwardly, I feel sick. My heart stops and then charges off at full speed...and stops again....

I run downstairs, out of the back door, across the yard and head straight for the patio door windows. I hear the sound of raised voices. I have no fear, only the cold clamp of terror in my heart which tells me my partner is in big trouble.

Two in love can make it......

My worst nightmare: Aiden Ross is standing over my partner. Stu's on his knees, his hands tied behind him, and there's a shotgun pointing at his head. Ross snarls something, Stu looks at me. I throw myself at him.

I'm on my knees, my arms around Stu's neck, my cheek pressed against his head. He's begging me to get away, move clear, but I'm not going to do that.

Ross is wobbling. My intervention has changed the game. I look up into his eyes and let him see it all: how I feel about Stu, how the man in my arms is the man in my heart....I can't quite believe that this is me.

It's not the first time that I've looked down the barrel of a gun, but it's the first time that I have no idea what the outcome is going to be. Stu and I could die, or I could save myself, but I can't watch Ross end Stu's life when I might have done something about it.

The twin barrels of the shotgun brush my cheek. I can feel the trembling hands holding it, but I hold my ground. I can feel Stu's tears on my neck, hear the hoarse catch in his voice as he begs me to get clear, but nothing doing. I hold him close, deliberately taking my eye off the gun and the man holding it for a few seconds. I press my lips to the back of Stu's neck, holding him tightly. I whisper that it's alright, we're not going to die.... He's been stiff in my arms, resisting me, but he leans into me and gives in. He knows I won't desert him.

I look up the barrel of the gun back into the eyes of the man holding it. He's almost over the edge. He's been tricked and he wants to blow Stu away...but he's not going to do that with me there, with me looking up at him. I can see his frustration burning inside him...seconds tick by....he's begging me, begging me to get clear, so that he can kill my partner...but I'm not going to do that. He's breaking apart slowly and it's all coming out…he's screaming and sobbing, words just tumbling out.

And Stu and I, we're still here. For all Ross' evil, I'm looking into his soul and he can't do it. He physically cannot pull the trigger. We're at an impasse.

Take my heart but please don't break it.......

All of a sudden the room is full of cops, armour-wearing cops, all pointing guns at Ross.

I cling to Stu, closing my eyes, and cling with everything I've got. I'm coming apart at the seams. I can feel the shakes building up within me.

Two arms close tight around me, so someone must have freed Stu's hands. His arms come tight around me and he gets to his feet, lifting me up with him. Relief and terror are pulling me apart, but Stu's holding me together. He's shivering himself, the rush of that much stress still pounding through his veins.

I wind my arms tighter around his neck and bury my face against his chest. One of his hands is holding my head against him, his fingers smoothing my hair down. His other arm is round my waist, holding me up, crushing my body against his.

I feel him breathe. I hear him whisper to me, telling me that he loves me, that it's okay. That we're both safe, that I'm the most incredible woman he's ever met, that he loves me with all his heart. His voice is shaking, but he's holding me so tight. I'm quivering all over. We nearly lost each other, our lives....my heart jumps into my mouth as I get a flashback of the shotgun an inch from his head, and I start to cry.

His grip tightens and he holds me hard against him. "I love you," he whispers. All the warmth and love and feeling break through and I tilt my head back. Our eyes meet, and he bends his head to kiss me, both of us oblivious to the others in the room.

Love was made for me and you......