"who will I belong to when the day just won't give in?"

...

She's Gill's Rachel but she can't see, doesn't believe.

She's Janet's Rachel and she is always there, always Rachel's Janet.

She's Gill's Rachel but Gill can't give herself away.

...

'Hiya slap.' Gill looked up from her desk when she noticed a figure leaning in her office doorway. She eyed her friend over the top of her reading glasses, with a degree of confusion. 'What are you doing here?'

Julie tilted her head enigmatically. 'Just a bit of paperwork on that arson-murder case from last month.'

Gill frowned. 'What? Exactly.' She pulled off her glasses and folded them in her hands.

Julie raised her eyebrows a shadow and smirked. 'Oh y'know, just making sure that Kevin hadn't fed it to his hamster, or mistaken it for the electric bill or something. How is he anyway? I notice he's hiding from me.' Julie feigned to glance behind her at the general office. Gill wasn't in the least bit fooled.

'Maybe you should borrow him back again, save you having to wag your own tail, running round chasing up paperwork. Thought that was the underdog's job.'

'We-ell,' Julie pushed herself off the doorframe and reached over to swing the door shut. She lowered her voice as she stepped over to the desk. 'I was hoping to run into your Rachel Bailey while I was here. Give her the once over. You sounded quite smitten when you were babbling on about her last week.'

Gill's face froze. Damn Julie. Damn friendship. Damn wine and whisky and all forms of alcohol for that matter and damn damn damn her own runaway tongue. She gripped her glasses. Her voice, when she spoke was dangerously quiet. 'I thought I made it quite clear...'

'That it has nothing to do with work I know.' Julie interrupted her. 'Calm down, I haven't been shouting it round the nick. I didn't even let on to her that I knew anything.'

'You've talked to her?' Gill heard her voice rising as panic gripped her gullet. She turned the next word into a hiss, 'Julie!'

Julie Dodson leaned against the cupboards, her back to the office window, her eyebrows nearly going through her hairline. 'Keep your hair on woman.' She narrowed her eyes, taking in Gill's rapidly flickering eye focus and the way her hands were clenching and unclenching in a way that was seriously not good for her specs. 'You really are taken with her, aren't you?' Gill chose to ignore that question, which Julie naturally took as all the answer she needed. Gill tried to surreptitiously crane her neck to see if Rachel was at her desk so she missed the dark flash of worry that crossed her friend's face. No Rachel. What was she supposed to be working on this morning?

'So...' Julie recalled her attention, 'tell me about her then. Rachel Bailey.'

Gill suddenly bridled. She was making a fool of herself, even if it was only in front of Julie. She fixed her glasses back on her face and turned to the computer, trying to reassert control.

'Eh, you can keep your hands off her, she's mine.' There was just a hint of genuine warning in her tone Gill knew her friend and she had no doubt that Julie could pull Rachel if she wanted to, if she tried. She had that same kind of charisma, sex appeal, magnetism, whatever it was, as Dave did. When she turned it on, people had a habit of rolling over and jumping into bed with her first, and asking questions later. Still, Gill trusted, she hoped, that her best friend wouldn't do that to her. She watched her closely though for any signs of that sort of interest. Trust did not come easy.

Julie stepped forward, leaning over the edge of the desk so she could drop her voice and shielding Gill with her body, meaning there was no risk of their being overheard or of anyone outside reading their boss's expression. Julie had a feeling that what she was about to say was going to hit Gill hard and she wanted to protect her as much as possible. Honesty and friendship meant that she couldn't just leave it alone. She took a deep breath and spoke on the exhale.

'That's not what she told me.' She stayed leaning forward, watching Gill's expression go blank and far away.

Sad.

Just sad.

Deep black sadness welling up inside her. That was what she felt. Gill couldn't even think until the feeling rose up from her stomach, through her chest and her throat to her head. Her eyes burned but she didn't feel like crying. Then her brain kicked in again.

'Well, she wouldn't,' she said quickly, turning back to her computer although she couldn't even focus on the screen. ' We're keeping it private. She doesn't know you know.' Gill clicked on something at random, hit a few keys. Was it common sense or denial?

Julie straightened to look down at her friend. 'Ok.' Her voice lightened. 'That's ok then.' Gill thought she could tell that it was part of her SIO act. 'I'd better head.' As she opened the door, she looked back. Gill was still pretending to work.

'Give us a ring if you need anything,' Julie said, her words heavy with meaning. But she left, closing the door, thank God. Gill tore her glasses from her face again and dropped them on the desk. Her eyes wandered to the direction of Rachel's desk. She couldn't see it from her seat but when Rachel was there she could see her head. At the moment there was just empty space. Rachel was out. Gill kept her face very still out of long years of habit, not letting her emotions show, knowing she was on view, but anyone who knew her could have seen the sadness heavy in her eyes, the way her jaw trembled almost imperceptibly. Anyone who cared could have read the emptiness in her expression. But there was nobody there to see. Gill turned her head away from the outer office. She wanted to dismiss everything Julie had said. She wanted to so badly. But was she just burying her head in the sand all over again? Julie was her best mate – she wouldn't make stuff up, she was only looking out for Gill. And she was a cracking good detective. If she had picked up a vibe off Rachel then there must be a reason. But then, shouldn't she trust Rachel? Julie hadn't said anything concrete. If she knew something specific then she would have said. Maybe Rachel had been off with her for some other reason, maybe she had resented someone prying into her personal life. Rachel didn't know Julie, after all. God she hoped it was just that. Gill made a mental note to talk to Rachel first chance she got, see if she could figure it out. For now though, she picked up her glasses again, she had work to do.

...

'So she says to me, you're not gonna believe this, I want it in Mongolian. I'm like, what? She wants it translated, reckons she can't read English or something. I'm like, who do you think we are, telesales? You're taking the piss out of the wrong people pal.'

Janet giggled at Rachel's face of outraged incredulity. Rachel had thrown her arms out to emphassis her point, very nearly knocking over her wine glass. They were sat in a pub a million miles away from The Grapes, their usual hideout opposite Oldham police station. At least, that's what it felt like. The place was cosy but modern, with a livelier crowd, better lighting and background music. It felt friendly but they didn't know a single other person in there. Janet nodded thoughtfully as she steadied Rachel's glass and topped up both it and her own.

'That's a good one. I once had a fella who spent three days insisting he was his own twin brother.'

'Yeah? Did he have a twin?'

'No. Only child. I had to show him the hospital records of his birth before he gave it up. You should have seen his face.' Janet grinned at the recollection. She did enjoy being right. And proving it.

Rachel shook her head and slurped at her wine. She picked up the bottle and eyed it critically. Then she shook it leaned in for a closer look. 'It's empty!' she exclaimed. 'You wanna get another?'

Janet paused for maybe half a second before she replied. That was their second empty bottle. It was gone eleven already. They had work in the morning. 'Yeah' she grinned. The deal had been a night out to get pissed, after all. And if she had wanted to be good she should have stopped a long time ago. Two bottles was already well over the line, might as well keep going. It was nice too. Fun. Janet watched Rachel weaving her way to the bar. And nice to spend time with Rach away from work. She hadn't seen as much of her lately, what with Rachel spending so much time with Gill. Janet had stopped calling them in the evenings in case she was interrupting their time together. Her cheeks burned suddenly hot as the thought of what she might be interrupting flashed into her mind uninvited. She must be pissed. Janet shook her head then blinked hard as dizziness followed. When her eyes focused again, there was Rachel waving a bottle of wine and wearing an expression of delight that made Janet's heart skip. She grabbed her glass and emptied it, trying to drown the feeling. Rachel raised her eyebrows almost up into her hairline.

'Janet Scott, you are letting your hair down tonight!'

Janet laughed, feeling the wine tingle in her mouth and all through her veins. It felt good. Rachel sat down opposite her again and refilled her glass. Again. 'Did you talk to Gill?' Janet asked without warning. She even slightly surprised herself. Rachel's face dropped.

'No,' she sighed. 'We were so late back from searching for that idiot this evening and then she was out at that new crime scene in Langley. I didn't get a chance.' Rachel took a large gulp of wine.

'Oh yeah.' They hadn't got the details on the new one they'd picked up yet. It must be big if Gill had been called out at nine in the evening, but she hadn't been there to brief them and Andy had said the message was to go on home and be in early. Gill would tell them all about it then. Well, this wasn't exactly going home but it was probably better than lying in bed tossing and turning. She looked up and caught Rachel's eye; a smile grew between them, one of those nonsensical tipsy smiles that sent warmth flowing through Janet. Much better. She raised her glass and clinked it to Rachel's.

Things got distinctly fuzzier during that third bottle of wine. Rachel got involved in telling her some long and complicated story that was supposed to be something to do with the case they had been working last week... or was it the week before? Janet lost track. Mostly all she could do was nod and smile, which developed into giggles as Rachel got more and more annoyed that she was blatantly not following. By the end of it, Janet was doubled over gasping and turning red whilst trying to defend herself from Rachel's playful attempts to slap her round the head.

'Oh ow Rach st... ow stop it!'

'Janet! You're laughing at my brilliant theory. You deserve a smack. This is genius. If' I'd thought of this last week...'

'The whole team would have been laughing at you,' Janet wheezed and promptly went off into another fit of suppressed giggles at Rachel's face.

'Seriously,' she protested, the effect slightly marred as she slurred the word badly, 'in the morning I'm gonna go in and tell the boss, tell Gill... and she'll...' Rachel ground to a halt as tears filled her eyes. Janet stopped laughing faster than you could have flicked a switch. Rachel's face looked so empty she couldn't bear it. She reached out a hand across the table. Rachel grabbed it and clung on so hard that Janet had to work not to flinch.

'I just wish she loved me.' The words were ground out and Janet could see the effort it cost her friend to admit that.

'Oh Rachel.' She leaned closer, reaching her other hand across to pat the younger woman on the cheek. How could Gill not love her, not care for her, look out for her? Couldn't she see that behind that tough front there was a very vulnerable little... Rachel? Janet realised that she was staring into Rachel's eyes, all soft and sympathetic as she was, and that Rachel was staring back now, a little surprised look on her face. Janet felt her breathing quicken and had a ridiculous urge to lick her lips that she wasn't quite sure she was sober enough to control.

'Let's erm...' it came out in a whisper and she hurriedly cleared her throat. 'Another bottle, I think,' she managed. Rachel nodded.

'Whisky' she exclaimed as Janet stood up.

'What?' Janet had a feeling she wasn't keeping up.

'I want whisky,' Rachel clarified, her eyes as wide and her tone as demanding as a child. Janet could only nod.

She came back with two whiskies each, thinking it would save a walk. Her legs were really quite unsteady for some reason. She found Rachel had switched moods again and was now grinning like the Cheshire cat. She grabbed a tumbler as soon as Janet had deposited them on the table and held it aloft.

'Cheers pal!' They clinked glasses, Janet catching Rachel's infectious smile, and both swallowing the golden liquid faster than they really ought. Rachel scooted her chair round close to Janet's when she sat down. She leaned against her and Janet found herself with an arm around the younger woman.

'Jan, what would I do without you?' Rachel snuggled closer and Janet found herself enveloped in the smell of her shampoo, perfume and Rachelness. Her heartbeat quickened and she flushed but it was too nice to stop. She stroked Rachel's hair. It was so long and dark and shiny – she'd always wanted to touch it but never had. Now it seemed like the obvious thing to do. Rachel hummed against her shoulder, obviously enjoying the sensation. Janet's heart glowed, maybe it was the whisky, maybe not. It was just so easy to make Rachel happy. It came so naturally. How could she not?

'More whisky,' Rachel mumbled and sat up. Her eyes roamed the table and fell on the two untouched glasses. Delighted surprise lit up her whole face. 'Oh look. There's some.' She picked them both up and made a minor ceremony of handing one to Janet.

'You're drink, madame.' When she had a hand free, she pointed her forefinger at Janet and raised one eyebrow. 'You did this, didn't you?'

Janet smirked. She tried to look enigmatic.

'You're a bloody genius pal.' Rachel saluted her with her glass and knocked the whole lot back in one. 'Let's go.' She grabbed Janet's hand, tugging her to her feet. Left with very little choice, Janet downed her own drink and grabbed for her bag and coat.

.

They staggered out of the pub, clinging to each other.

'Do you want to come back to my house?' Janet asked. Rachel arched her eyebrows and Janet felt her heart skip. 'Nobody's home.'

'Ok pal.' Rachel very determinedly linked her arm through Janet's and they both promptly nearly fell over a step.

'Careful.' Rachel addressed Janet seriously, then she turned to the step and pointed at it. 'Oi watch it you.' Janet giggled. She felt young. She felt light. She felt excited. She was incredibly aware of everything Rachel did – the way she leaned against her, the brush of her hair against her cheek as she turned her head, the touch of skin as she moved her hand, the way she was breathing. Janet felt excitement building through her body with every step. She was sure they were on the same page. When they paused outside a cab and their eyes met, Janet knew she was going to kiss Rachel, very very soon. She let her gaze take in all of Rachel's face. Beautiful. And loving and pained and nervous and wanting all at the same time. Wonderful Rach. Janet wanted to wrap her up in her arms so tight. How long had she wanted this? Too long, she decided as her eyes fastened on Rachel's lips. Too long to wait.

'Let's...' it came out as a whisper again but this time she was happy with that. She leaned closer, breathing in Rachel's ear. 'Let's...' Then her mouth found Rachel's almost with a will of its own and they were kissing hard. Arms wrapping round bodies that were bulky with coats, lips parting, tongues pushing, breathing forgotten. It was some seconds before Janet finished her sentence in a gasp. 'Let's go back to mine.'

They tried to behave in the taxi, sitting in an agony of suspense, intensified by little touches and significant looks. When they got back to the house, Rachel pressed up close behind Janet as she unlocked the door with exaggerated care. Once it closed behind them they were lost. They kissed in the hall, dropping bags and kicking off shoes, then Janet led Rachel up the stairs, still grappling with coats. They stopped on the landing again, too caught up in each other to be parted for more than a few seconds. Janet pushed Rachel ahead of her towards the bedroom, both pulling off layers as they went. She felt dizzy and desperate. If she didn't touch Rachel, now this moment, feel her, hold her, closer closer tighter, she didn't know what she would do. After that, everything was hot and close and skin and kisses and touches and tastes, pulse pounding the rhythm I love you I love you I love you, all hotter and closer and more and more and more breathless.

...

Rachel was warm and sleepy. Everything was warm and soft. A warm soft body heavy against her, arms and legs entwined, breathing rhythmically together. Rachel felt safe. It took a few seconds for that realisation to sink in and during those seconds she breathed deeply the smell of the warm bed, slow and sleepy. Then, the very strangeness of the feeling disturbed her. She blinked, her brain sluggish from alcohol and sex and comfort. Something wasn't right. She shifted uneasily.

A warm soft arm slid around her waist, gripped her tighter.

'You can stay, you know.' Janet's voice, husky with sleep and sweet with affection. Her hand stroked randomly over Rachel's skin. 'It's ok.'

Rachel froze. Stay. The one thing Gill wouldn't give her. She felt like she had just walked into a stone wall. It was all she wanted, all she had been asking for. So why was guilt boiling up in her stomach like acid? Rachel felt sick. Faithfulness. The one thing above all else that Gill needed from her. And she had just broken that. She really really felt sick. She pushed herself out of the bed, struggling away from the covers and Janet's arms, cast wildly around the room then shot out the bedroom door, headed for the bathroom. Her head spun and she saw stars. Thank God she knew where she was going. Rachel bent over the toilet and retched helplessly. If she could only vomit this guilt out of her, if she could undo the last few hours. It was no good. She started to shiver, kneeling on the tiled floor naked.

'Rach?' Janet's voice from the doorway, all concern. Rachel couldn't look at her. The bile rose up again. She was going to hurt Jan too. What was wrong with her? Anger and frustration threatened to overwhelm her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she banged her head against the toilet seat. No. There was no way she was allowed to feel sorry for herself. Janet's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

'Rachel don't do that. What's the matter?'

Rachel swallowed hard three times before she managed to turn her head and look at Janet.

'Gill.' Her voice cracked on the word. Rachel searched Janet's face for a magic answer and saw that her guilt was powerful enough to be infectious. She looked down again.

'I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I'm sorry Jan.' Janet put out a hand again and rubbed her shoulder and Rachel knew she had to get out of there. She pushed herself up and staggered back to the bedroom, began searching for her clothes. Janet followed.

'Rachel, you don't have to go. We can talk about this. You can stay and just sleep it off if you like.'

Rachel froze again at the word stay and she swayed on the spot. It was a knife going through her. She snatched up her top and began grappling her way into it.

'Can you call me a taxi?' she muttered.

'Rach, I'm worried...' Janet tried again.

'Please.' Rachel looked at her, dead in the face. 'Please Janet.'

Janet nodded. Rachel was hurting her acting like this, she could see, even though Jan was good at hiding it. But she couldn't help herself. There was nothing better to do, no way to make it right. She wanted to run, as hard and fast and far as she could, only she knew she was in no fit state. She just desperately needed to get out of there.

.

The first thing Rachel did when she got home was grab the whisky and waiting tumbler. She was still shaking; the bottle neck rattled dangerously against the glass. She knocked it straight back, put the glass down and carried the bottle through to the sofa. She collapsed onto the cushions, stared blankly at the wall opposite. Gradually, the shaking grew worse and worse until she was sobbing, curling over into herself, falling sideways. Shit shit shit. She was a total and utter shit. To do that. To Gill. When she knew about her past, with Dave that scumbag. But Rachel was no better than him. Worse maybe, as she had shagged one of Gill's best and oldest friends. Even Dave had never sunk that low. She groped for the bottle of whisky again, gulping it down until she choked on the fiery taste. Anything to shut up the voice in her head. She had to do something. She had to confess. Gill should know at once what an awful person she was. Everybody ought to know, they ought to be warned, so they wouldn't like her, wouldn't trust her, wouldn't be nice to her ever again. She didn't deserve it. The thought that Gill could, unwittingly, be saying something nice about her, at that very moment made her stomach turn.

Rachel pushed herself upright, unsteadily. She groped about the coffee table for her phone, before remembering that it was probably in her coat pocket. Coat. On the back of the sofa, that was lucky. Phone. Gill. Call. It rang – once, twice, three times; Rachel almost hung up; four ti...

'Hiya kid.' Pleasure, concern, impatience, anticipation. How could a person fit so much into two little words. Rachel burst into tears again and, though she tried to stifle them, she knew at once that Gill had heard.

'What?' Concern and confusion now. This was it. She wanted to confess. For a moment, Rachel literally could not speak. The words gagged her.

'I can't do this.' Any of it, Rachel thought. I can't tell you. I can't see you. I can't lie to you. I can't hurt you. I can't carry on pretending everything is ok when we have been falling apart since we started. She hardly heard Gill's response or the edge of pain in her voice that should have told her that Gill knew already. Something was wrong. Rachel gaped silently, trying to force herself to speak. Nothing came out. She took another shuddering breath and finally coughed up the words that were choking her.

'I'm shagging her.'

Rachel stuffed her hand in her mouth and stared at the phone in horror. She wanted to disbelieve her ears but she couldn't. Why those exact words? That wasn't what she had meant to say. That was more than she had ever meant to confess. End Call. End Call. She hit it about five times. Rachel bit down hard on her hand. Because she knew why, really, why those words. Not just: I shagged someone, or I cheated on you, or it's over, something general like that. I'm shagging her. Present tense. Continuous. Rachel closed her eyes and her mind filled with Janet. Her softness and weight, her breath and taste, her hair and smell, her patience and care, her words, her comfort, her constancy, her friendship. Rachel would have given a lot to take back those words but she knew they were her at her most brutally honest. Because she wanted to do it again.

...

And when it's dark and it is dawn she will be nobody's and nobody will want her, she knows.