A/N: This is nowhere near as good as I'd hoped it would be but it's 3am and I'm going to upload it so I feel like I've done something productive! There will be another chapter, I think I know what's going to happen but then something else might accidentally happen so your guess is as good as mine! Thanks to RebaForever15 for the suggestion of this, it's all a bit silly really but then there's something intriguing about this ship. Anyway, enjoy, please leave me reviews and suggestions :D and I will be updating Without Her at some point, I haven't abandoned it. L x

I don't own anything.

"Coming for a drink, boss?"

The shout drifted through Gill's open office door as she stood up from her desk and she popped her head round the frame to see Rachel looking at her expectantly. The rest of MIT were milling around collecting their bags and coats and chatting cheerily; they'd finished a difficult case that day that they'd been working on for two weeks.

"'Course!" she replied, smiling as she ducked back into her office to get her things. The prospect of a relaxed evening with her team was a very nice one.

Laughing and joking, they ambled across the road and into the pub. Gill bought the drinks, wanting to treat her team, and before long they were all settled around a long table, deciding what food to get. The atmosphere was much more pleasant than it had been for the last couple of weeks, when they'd dragged themselves into the pub and soaked themselves in wine, trying to forget about work.

Food ordered, the team got down to the business of drinking, joke-telling and generally arsing around, which was what they did best – well, almost. The time was flying by and the pub was beginning to fill up, everyone celebrating the beginning of the weekend and none more than Gill's team, who were immensely relieved to be able to slow down for a couple of days. Around 10pm, just when people were starting to get a bit worse for wear, Gill's phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and her heart sank. Dave. With an exasperated sigh, she pressed the answer button and raised the phone to her ear, signalling to Janet, whom she had been talking to when it rang.

"Dave? What d'you want?" Gill half-shouted, placing a hand over her other ear. There was muffled yelling at the other end of the phone.

"Hang on," she sighed, standing up and wending her way through the tables and chairs until she reached the loos.

"What is it?" she said crossly, annoyed to be interrupted and especially when she'd been having such a good night. A phone call from Dave was never good news.

"THAT BLOODY CHRIS-"

"What?" Gill said, confused. "What about Chris?"

"SAMMY WOULDN'T GO FOR DINNER WITH ME BECAUSE HE WAS COMING OVER, I'M NOT HAVING IT, HE'S MY SON AND-"

"Dave!" Gill interrupted, her temper rising, "It's not my bloody fault that Chris and Sammy get on! Especially when I've been working stupid hours, it's good for them to spend time together when Chris is around and I'm not! They get on well!"

"Yeah, I wonder why that is," Dave half-sneered, half-slurred. So he was drunk. Of course he was drunk. "Probably because they're around the same age."

"Fuck off," Gill snapped, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks ever so slightly. So what if Chris was younger? He was so lovely and seemed genuinely keen on her. Which was more than could be said for Captain Underpants, and she told him so in no uncertain terms.

"You hypotr- hypocrhitic", followed by a belch.

"You're- EURGH," Gill said, sickened, "How the fuck have you got yourself into this state? Go away, get your miserable bitch of a life back together and then maybe Sammy will actually want to see you!"

She punched the end call button, not even bothering to wait and see how Dave would react. He sounded like he wasn't far off passing out anyway. She doubted he would even remember calling her by the next morning.

Unfortunately, she would. The toilets were empty; Gill slammed her hand down on the counter by the sinks and glanced into the mirror, blinking away tears. She was sick of Dave doing this. Picking up her phone again, she held the number 3 down – Chris' number on speed dial.

"Chris Latham?"

"It's me," she choked, trying not to sound upset or angry. She wasn't going to tell him that Dave had called, but she thought talking to him might calm her down a bit.

"Oh, Gill…" The important tone of his voice softened immediately; he sounded glad that she'd called. It only made her eyes brim even more. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm on a job and I'm a bit short of time. Are you alright?"

On a job. Gill tried to suppress the jealousy; there still wasn't a day went by that she didn't miss that job. Still, it wasn't Chris' fault. She never showed him any form of envy.

"Oh yeah, never mind" she said would-be brightly, "I just fancied a chat. I'll see you soon. Gimme a call when you get back, we'll fix something up."

"Will do," he replied, "speak to you soon. Miss you."

"Soppy bugger," she replied, as she was sure he was expecting. "Night, cock."

"Night."

Stuffing her phone in her pocket, Gill ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath before heading back out to the group. She sat back down next to Janet, who was watching with some amusement as Pete and Mitch squabbled over football.

"Another bottle?" Gill asked, well aware that she, Rachel and Janet had already got through two, of which Janet had only had one large glass because she was driving. Gill and Rachel, of course, were also supposed to be driving, but neither of them had enough willpower to not drink the wine when it was in front of them. One of the many things they had in common.

"You alright?" Janet asked, brow furrowed.

"Fine," Gill replied shortly, marching off to the bar, where Rachel joined her.

"Having another one are we, ma'am?" She asked, eyes twinkling. "I'll get this one."

"See, this is why I employ you," Gill joked, accepting a glass and downing half of it in one. Rachel was looking at her, eyebrows raised.

"Thirsty?" she said drily.

"Oi, don't push it, lady!" Gill warned, but she shot Rachel a forced smile. "Thanks kid," she added, raising the glass.

"Don't mention it," Rachel replied, clinking her own glass against it and taking a swig. "Mmm. That's- oh, hang on," – Rachel's phone had started ringing. "Yeah, hello?"

It seemed to be Sean. Gill looked around the pub, trying not to listen to Rachel prattling on, more than usual because she'd been drinking. It was getting later now and they'd turned the music up; it was a Friday night so people were beginning to dance up on the little stage that was there for gigs and karaoke nights. None of MIT was dancing, although Lee and Pete were singing loudly and drunkenly along. As Gill watched, Janet stood up and made her way over, putting her coat on.

"I'm gonna get off," she shouted over the music, "I want to see the girls before they go to bed. See you soon!"

"Night!" Gill shouted back, waving as Janet headed back to the door. Rachel was still on the phone. Gill refilled Rachel's glass, then picked up the bottle and her own glass and went back to the table, sitting down next to Mitch and Kevin. The drink was beginning to work now; she still felt annoyed and upset by Dave but that was nothing new and she was relieved by the numbing nature of the alcohol.

"Really though," Kevin was saying through a mouthful of crisps to an unimpressed-looking Mitch, "It's not rude or anything, it doesn't affect anyone else!"

"It's disgusting," Mitch replied, moving the bag of crisps out of Kevin's reach as he lunged for them.

"What's disgusting? Or do I know what to know?" Gill asked Mitch drily. He shook his head.

"Kevin can't understand why we don't like it when he talks with his mouth that full. I mean there's talking with food in your mouth, and then there's him!"

Gill fixed Kevin with a steely gaze. It was something she'd told him off about countless times but he never listened. He looked back at her determinedly. "What?"

"Why did I hire you again?" she asked, half-joking.

"Because I'm a brilliant detective and I make you smile?" he suggested cheekily. Gill bit the inside of her lip to suppress the smile, giving her the usual expression she wore when she looked at him – like she was sucking a lemon. Apparently he'd seen through it.

"You might piss me off sometimes but you've got a bit of potential," she acknowledged grudgingly. And we need you to keep our spirits up.

"See Mitch!" Kevin crowed, raising his pint. "I've got potential!"

"Mmm," Mitch answered, eyeing him. "Be careful with that, you'll spill it!"

"Spill it? Nah!" Kevin exclaimed, and proceeded to down it.

"Boss?"

It was Rachel. Ignoring the sounds of Kevin gulping and Mitch laughing, Gill turned in her seat and looked up at her questioningly, peering slightly to get her into focus. She was feeling a bit fuzzy.

"Sean's on his way, he's gonna pick me up cos, you know, I think I've, erm, had a bit too much to drive."

"Good?" Gill said, not really sure why Rachel was hanging around as if expecting an answer.

"Yeah," she replied, swaying slightly on the spot. "Oops."

Gill laughed in spite of herself. "You're pissed!"

"HA!" Kevin exclaimed, apparently only just joining in the conversation. "Uuuuurp. Oops, pardon!"

"Ugh," Rachel made a face. "You're disgusting."

"Exactly what I just said," Mitch grinned.

"Whatever," Kevin rolled his eyes, "Ma'am, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you giggle!"

"What?" Gill shot back at him, outraged. "I didn't giggle!"

"Seems SOMEBODY'S had one… A few… Too many!"

Unable to think of a retort (probably because it was true), Gill reached across the table and thwacked Kevin's upper arm for his trouble.

Kevin held his hands up, looking annoyingly smug, but at that moment was saved by the arrival of Sean before Gill could reprimand him.

"Evening all!" Sean shouted, beaming around at everyone. Rachel tripped forwards and advanced on him, slinging her arms around his neck.

"Hello lovely," he smiled, leaning in to kiss her.

"Get a room!" Mitch exclaimed, looking to Kevin to join in the teasing. Kevin, however, was glaring mutinously at the opposite side of the pub, and a moment later got up and went to join Lee and Pete.

"What's up with him?" Sean asked, looking puzzled.

"Nothin'," Rachel slurred, stroking Sean's face uncoordinatedly and squashing his nose. "He's sulking cos he's… Bit too much to drink… Prick." She made a face, obviously not actually knowing what was wrong with Kevin.

Gill narrowed her eyes, peering after Kevin. Although he was now sitting with Lee and Pete, he still didn't seem his usual self. Rachel and Sean said their goodbyes and ambled off outside, Rachel tottering slightly, leaning on Sean's shoulder. Kevin continued to look depressed.

Making her mind up, Gill marched off to the bar and ordered four shots of vodka, two each, before carrying them over to where Kevin was sitting. She wasn't stupid; she'd watched him gazing open-mouthed at Rachel as she clattered around the office every day. And she was drunk. So getting even drunker seemed like a good idea.

"Here you go, Kev," she announced briskly, placing two of the shot glasses in front of him and spilling a bit in the process.

"What've I done to deserve this?" he asked, amazed, while Pete looked on open-mouthed and Lee tittered.

"Nothin'" Gill replied, raising an eyebrow and knocking back her first shot.

Kevin stared at her for a moment, then followed suit.

"You alright boss?" Pete asked, watching with a slight frown as she finished the second.

"Fine, you?" she replied, looking him in the eye. He glanced sideways at Lee, who looked back at him and shrugged.

They were beginning to annoy Gill a bit. It wasn't any business of theirs how much, what or how fast she drank. She waited impatiently for Kevin to catch up, watching him for signs of improvement in his mood.

He looked up from the table and met her gaze, questioningly at first but then pensively. After a couple of moments, he grinned cheekily and Gill heaved an internal sigh of relief. It was downright weird when Kevin was depressed. And, much as she loathed admitting it, there was something quite cute about him; deep down, she was quite fond of him.

"Coming for a dance, ma'am?"

Gill snorted into her wine. She certainly hadn't expected that!

"Excuse me?" she exclaimed, staring at him, shocked.

"I said, are you coming for a dance?"

"No!" she replied forcefully, not really thinking about it. Then the vodka gave her a nudge and she stood up abruptly. "Yes."

Kevin laughed and stood up too, grabbing her hand and dragging her over to the little stage.

This is bloody strange, Gill thought to herself as Kevin took hold of her other hand and began leading her in a stupid kind of jig to a cheesy 80s song. And yet, at the same time, it was quite good fun, and before she knew it she was laughing along – although she really couldn't see very well now; the flashing lights that had been set up by the stage on top of everything she'd had to drink were just too much. Not that it mattered, though. She was having a good time. Gill smiled suddenly – Kevin had managed to make her feel better, as he so often did, although usually without knowing it.

She became vaguely aware of the fact that they were both now more staggering than dancing; through her drunken haze she could feel Kevin completely losing rhythm as his dance moves became more erratic. She dropped his hand, laughing. The dance floor was full around them and she'd forgotten what a good atmosphere it was.

"Oi!" he said indignantly, grabbing her hand again. "Sorry ma'am but we're not leaving yet!"

For a moment, Gill considered slapping him, just because it was Kevin and he was being ballsy. But then the song faded out, it was changing to something a lot slower – a ballad. Just as Gill was about to yank her hand back and stumble back to the table, Kevin pulled her closer – a lot closer. She suddenly found herself pressed right up against him, her left hand in his right, his left arm around her waist, and out of all the members of her team that she could have imagined dancing like this with, Kevin was probably bottom of the list.

This is not right, said a tiny, sober part at the back of her mind. This is Kevin. Not only are you his boss and a good fifteen years older than him but KEVIN. You're off your head. But most of her was drunk, and angry with Dave, and she didn't have the willpower to pull away. Kevin was pissed too which seemed to make it matter less. He let go of her hand and moved his other arm down to her waist, brushing dangerously close to her chest en route. With both of his arms wrapped tightly around her waist now, it felt only natural to move hers upwards and around his neck. She kept her head resting against his shoulder, making a subconscious effort not to put herself in a position where he could kiss her.

He wasn't put off. Seemingly encouraged by her acceptance of this new and strange intimacy, he began moving his hands downwards to rest on her hips, at the same time ducking his head downwards, moving one of his hands only fleetingly to brush her hair out of the way, before she felt his lips touch her neck.

"Kevin…" It was meant to be a warning, but it came out as more of a moan.

"Mmm?" he murmured, his breath tickling pleasantly just below her ear. She pulled back slightly, looked up at him, with the intention of saying "we need to stop."

And then, in her head, the little voice that had been trying to persuade her to stop piped up again.

Sod it.

"…Nothing," she said softly, looking directly into his eyes. They were glazed over with alcohol and something that looked disturbingly, and at the same time excitingly like lust. A small smile played around his lips, a slight smug expression passed over his face – and then he went in for the kill.

Their lips met, briefly, softly – then again, and again, in quicker succession, and before Gill knew it they were kissing hard, almost frantically, mouths opened and their tongues dancing expertly: neither of them was a novice in this field and they were both far past being shy. Kevin was pulling her even closer by her hips and she couldn't help but let out a small gasp at the feel of his reaction to their intimacy as they continued dancing, almost grinding. Her own hands began to wander, feeling their way across his chest and then rashly beginning to creep further down his torso.

"Get a room!" someone jeered nearby. Gill and Kevin broke apart abruptly; Gill was on the verge of yelling at the man to bugger off but before she could, Kevin was steering her (slightly wonkily) off the stage and down to where their coats and bags were, whispering in her ear as they went, "your place or mine eh boss?"

Boss. She was his boss. And she had Chris, lovely, sweet Chris who treated her so well. She was going to get a reputation if she kept shagging all these younger men. But Gill's judgment was clouded by her inebriation and her need for stress release. It was so wrong, but that just made it more exciting. Gill hated herself for it but she found herself not even telling Kevin that he didn't have to call her "boss" or "ma'am" right now. A small, guilty part of her liked it.

She looked up at him, waiting with the usual cheeky grin for her answer. She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes slightly as she surveyed him.

"Yours." She said decisively, then turned on her heel and marched out (or, she liked to think she was marching, but given by the way he caught her up and grabbed hold of her elbow, her gait was clearly a lot more unsteady than that).

The pair fumbled their way into a taxi and the journey passed in a blur of fleeting kisses, groping hands and growing anticipation. They half-fell out of the taxi and practically ran up to Kevin's flat, which was surprisingly comfortable and tidy – not that Gill noticed. She and Kevin tripped and stumbled their way straight into the bedroom, kissing furiously, ripping each other's clothes off as they went, and Gill's last semi-coherent thought as she practically leapt into bed with her constable was that this was going to be awkward as hell in the morning.