God only knows
Pairing: Grace/Boyd
Rating: T
Summary: After Boyd rescues a woman, he can't get the terrified look on her face out of his mind. He and the team try to find out why. Set sometime after season 5.
Author's notes: Special thanks to shadowsamurai83 for the beta
Disclaimer: Waking the Dead belongs to the BBC. I'm taking them for a kick and a giggle but promise to be back before the main game.
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Chapter 1
Boyd tugged at his shirt cuff. It looked like the annual ordeal was nearly over.
ACC Dyson tapped the final file on the table before adding it on top of the pile of folders that they'd previously finished.
For two and half hours, he'd endured a grilling that passed as the unit's performance review by that infernal woman. And somehow he'd managed to keep his cool, not having to resort to counting to ten or reciting the Tempest. Grace would've been proud of him.
Anticipating the end of their meeting, he tidied up his similar stack of files and put his pen in his suit jacket. He wanted to take his glasses off as well but didn't get the chance.
"Not so fast, Detective Superintendent." Dyson smiled knowingly. She might just wrong foot the famed DSI yet. "We're not quite finished." She'd gone through all of his team's reviews looking for mistakes but not finding any, much to her frustration. She still had one more card to play.
Peter groaned audibly, unable to hide the mixture of disappointment and aggravation over still being there.
A flash of anger swept across Dyson's face and she sneered, "Do you have to go out or something?"
"No, ma'am." Boyd clasped his hands together. He hadn't meant to voice his displeasure about being in her presence any longer than he had to but he couldn't help it. He was frustrated, tired, wanting a piss and in desperate need of a decent coffee, having the caffeine withdrawal headache to prove it.
A smug grin grew on Dyson's face and she added, sarcastically, "Or should I have said, 'Do you have a date with Grace?'" One of her friends had seen them out together and passed on the information to her as payback.
"Pardon me, ma'am?" He understood what she'd said, but he just couldn't believe it. What did his private life have to do with her?
"You heard." She sniggered, pleased to finally get a reaction out of Boyd. All morning he'd been cool and collected, despite her best efforts and his legendary reputation for getting angry.
There was no way he'd deny his relationship with Grace but equally he wasn't going to tell this officious bitch either. "It is none of your business." Seething, he dropped the acknowledgement of her superior rank. She didn't deserve his respect. What he had with Grace was between him and her, not Dyson or the Met.
"Yes, it is, if it affects the running of the unit."
"No, it does not." With a deep threatening voice, he growled every single word. What they had hadn't affected the unit, as they'd always been professional at work. And she wouldn't know anyway, stuck at the Yard, as far away from real policing as possible. In his mind, he repeated that line from the Tempest, in an effort not to lose control and punch the cow, doing it for Grace and himself.
"I think it is my business. And I'll be reporting it to Sir …." She was going to have threatened to go the Commissioner, when the man himself walked in.
"Hello, Peter." Commissioner Havering smiled as he came through the door but he stopped in his tracks, the tension and hostility in the room plainly obvious. It wasn't really a surprise, considering their past history. He'd thought it was behind them since they had very little contact. Dyson had been moved sideways to Personal and out of Operations. Obviously, that wasn't the case.
"Sir," Boyd replied respectively, standing up. He had a lot of time for Sir Martin Havering. He wasn't a fast tracked officer like Dyson, and so he had spent time at the sharp end of policing
"Is there a problem?" At least they weren't shouting at each other, but as neither of them was saying anything, Martin sighed and then pressed further, asking the ACC, "What will you be reporting?"
In all time that Dyson had known Sir Martin, he'd never once called her by her first name and she realized the battle was lost. "It's nothing, sir."
Havering looked at Peter. Something was going on but no one was talking to him about it.
"We're just finished and I was about to leave." Packing his files into his case, Boyd didn't even bother to even look at the ACC. He risked another blast from Dyson as she should've answered first, being the superior officer, but he needed to get out of there before he said or did something he'd later regret.
Martin looked at Dyson, her jaw clenched and her anger barely controlled. She gave him a nod but did not say anything. Boyd looked the same. Maybe it was best to let them go. "All right. I'll read your reports when the reviews have been completed. You can both go."
"Thank you, sir." Boyd nodded to Sir Martin and left the office, not even bothering to look at Dyson. The commissioner was no fool and would read his reviews and reports and come to his own conclusions, without being swayed by Dyson's accusations.
Waiting for the lift, Boyd breathed deeply. All his good work keeping calm had gone to waste by that snide little bitch, Dyson. What was her problem? He had no idea. The only time he'd come into contact with her, she'd been removed from the Doyle case by the Director General of Security. It had had nothing to do him, but she'd still found a way to get back at the team, at the time, by denying Spencer's promotion to DI.
And the more he thought about it, the calmer he got. Remembering Grace's parting words of not letting Dyson get to him, he soon realized that the ACC wasn't worth it. She'd had a virtual demotion to Personal – only the useless officers were put there while he was at CCU. She was going nowhere while he ran the CCU with a great team he respected. He was very good at his job, but more importantly, he was doing it with a person he loved.
By the time he stepped out of the lift, he was fine but in need of a few things. After a visit to the toilet, he left Scotland Yard in search of a decent coffee.
After grabbing a coffee and a sandwich from a cafe across the road from St James' Park, he decided to find a park seat and enjoy a relaxing lunch. It wasn't like him, but it was such a fine day and he rarely took time for any sort of lunch break, eating at his desk, reading case files. Taking a few moments to relax and enjoy the sun some more before heading back to his car and CCHQ, he watched tourists head over to Buckingham Palace, wondering where they were from, easily picking the Australians from their accents and the Americans from the holiday dress sense.
He knew it couldn't last as he felt his phone ring. It was still set on vibrate. "Peter Boyd."
"It's Grace. How did it go?"It had been four hours, thinking that enough time had passed for the review to be completed, even for a sanctimonious cow like Dyson.
"Tough."
Grace smiled, glad that Peter had said a short but honest answer."No shouting?"
"No, and no Tempest either."
Now that was something she found very hard to believe. "Liar."
He threw an arm up in mock surrender. "Okay. You're right. Just a few times but no shouting. Really." There was no point in trying to hide anything from Grace. She knew him too well and would find any number of ways, some painful and others not, to prise it out of him. "That doesn't mean that I didn't want to punch her."
"Well, you're improving. I'm glad you didn't act on that impulse, although I'm sure she'd have deserved it."
"She did." Boyd ran his hand through his hair, thinking about whether to tell her about Dyson knowing about them. In the end, he knew there was only one answer. "She knows about us."
"So?" Grace didn't hesitate. It was just between Peter and her, and she had a fair idea what he was going to say next. Peter was trying to protect her and her reputation. He didn't give a toss about his own. Bless him, she thought.
Boyd smiled; trust Grace to say the right thing. "Thank you but …." He wanted to protect her.
"No buts, Boyd. We've been through it. We're doing nothing wrong." Grace and Peter had spent years dancing around each other, their attraction apparent, just enjoying the banter and flirting with one another but never acting on it until a year ago, when everything changed after a very difficult case. They'd leant on each other for support and comfort, and eventually admitted they loved each other. Now they were together and couldn't be happier.
"I know … I know. I just don't want to see you hurt."
"I know and thank you, but I'm a big girl. I can look after myself."Grace leaned back in her chair. It didn't mean that every now and again she didn't mind Peter trying to protect her. It was sweet and old fashioned. She just wished it didn't involve mad men trying to stab and shoot her, recalling the times Peter had nearly been hurt coming to her rescue.
"I know you can, but I can't help myself. I love you."
"I love you too, but I thought we were being professional at work."For the most part that was true, like now, but since her door was closed and there was no one was in the squad room, it didn't matter. Spence, Stella and the other officers were at the pub. It was a Met tradition when a unit was having their annual professional review.
"We are, but I'm not at work."
"A mere technicality. You're always on call."
"I'm in St James' Park."
"Bunking off for the rest of the day then?"Grace laughed.
"No. I'm just having lunch in the sunshine."
"Lucky you." Grace envied him, looking at her tepid tea and unappetizing plastic cheese sandwich.
"I needed the walk after sitting on my bum for over 3 hours."
"Fair enough. When can we expect you back?"And how long does the rest of the team have to get back before he arrives? She smirked to herself.
"An hour." Peter read her mind. "That'll give the team time to get back from the pub."
Grace chortled.There wasn't much that got past DSI Boyd. "See you soon. Bye."
"Bye, Grace." Peter hung up the phone and headed toward Birdcage Walk.
TBC