Author's note -

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - it's so inspiring. :)

This M-rated S/T story came to me when I watched The Sweeney. While the movie itself was not great, one character in particular (played by Allen Leech) caught my eye and I immediately imagined Tom and Sybil in a sexy police!AU...

I am dedicating this story to my friend, the lovely and talented Yankee Countess. I am also, at last, fulfilling a couple of prompts, sent to me by Pointless Things and Mimijag some time ago - they both asked for Sybil x Tom "forced to share a bed", and Christine also asked for "handcuffed together". Hope you both enjoy this one, my friends, and sorry it took me so long!

Blues and twos

Detective Inspector Sybil Crawley took the lid off her cappuccino and leaned back in her chair – time to relax for five minutes before catching up on the paperwork for her last case.

"Excuse me, DI Crawley?"

She looked up, annoyed, to see a pair of blue eyes –

"What do you want?"

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. I'm DS Tom Branson – just transferred in, they told me to come and find you."

His Irish accent and cheeky good looks seemed to make no impression at all on his new boss. She rolled her eyes –

"What the fuck is the Super thinking, assigning me a new team member without even asking me? OK, Branson, go and find a desk over there and stay put until I tell you."

"Even if I need to use the gents, ma'am?"

"Take a seat, Detective Sergeant! And don't ever call me 'ma'am' again – makes me sound like the Queen. It's 'guv' to you."

Tom slunk over to a desk in the corner, muttering something that Sybil thought might have been "Bossy cow" in passing. She looked over at DS Mason, who sat in the desk beside hers.

"Cheeky bastard! Who the hell is that guy?"

"Not sure, guv. Want me to do some digging for you?"

She sighed, sipping her coffee and reaching for a chocolate croissant from the box on his desk.

"No, it's all right, thanks Mason. I'm sure I will get to the bottom of it eventually, once Superintendent Hughes shows her face."

She was turning back to her paperwork, munching on the sweet pastry with a frown on her face, when the phone rang –

"DI Crawley – yes, guv, he's here. I was wondering..."

She stopped talking and listened to her boss in full flow – "An armed robbery in progress? Leave it to us, we're on it."

She looked over at DS Mason and the rest of her team –

"Right, there's a blag going down in the City of London – private bank, very hush hush, a bunch of lowlifes are robbing it right now, and we're going to clean up the mess. Mmmm – Mason, Barrow, Nugent, O'Brien – new guy, what's your name again?"

"Branson, DS Branson, ma'am."

Her eyes flashed fire at him – "I already told you, Branson, don't call me that!"

She stood up, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair – "What are you waiting for, you lot – a written fucking invitation? Grab your vests and move it!"

The team raced out the door of the squad room and down to the garage, where they piled into a couple of vacant police cars. Sybil saw Tom take the driver's seat and jerked her thumb at him –

"Get out of there, I'm driving."

"Yes, ma'am... I mean, yes, guv."

He dropped the keys into her waiting hand and got into the back seat beside a guy with glossy black hair and a superior expression.

"Tom Branson, nice to meet you."

The other man looked at his extended hand as if it were a snake, then let out a snarky laugh – "What is this, a fucking mother's meeting?"

A tall redhead got in to take the last place in the car, slamming the door shut, and the men sat in silence as the cars tore out of the garage, Sybil's in the lead, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

They headed along the Embankment towards the City of London and, before long, they were pulling up outside a nondescript modern building with discreet signage in Arabic and English. Sybil pulled haphazardly into the curb and jumped out, looking around to assess the situation.

The front door of the building was opening, and she saw four men in black, wearing balaclavas and carrying guns and bags. Immediately, she dropped down behind the car, gesturing to the rest of the team to do the same.

"Get down!" she mouthed at them, before grabbing the microphone from the dashboard.

"This is the Metropolitan Police, you are under arrest. Drop your weapons and get down on the ground, now!"

Hearing her voice blaring out of the speakers on top of the car, the robbers clustered together in a group and opened fire.

"I said – you are under arrest! Cease fire immediately and drop your weapons!"

Sybil stood up, staying in the shelter of the car as much as she could, and brought out her gun, firing a well-aimed shot just past the shoulder of the man who seemed to be the ringleader. He turned to look at her, and their eyes met – she could tell she was face to face with a stone cold killer. The longer her team stayed there, the more danger they'd be in – Time to break the deadlock...

"Freeze, scumbags! You're under arrest!" she shouted as she ran out towards them, zigzagging her way behind cars and lampposts towards the gang, her team following closely behind her.

The robbers saw the number of police on their trail and started to run towards a large black van parked a block or so away – their getaway vehicle.

"Stop them! Don't let them get away!"

She turned to find DS Branson right beside her and the two of them ran along the footpath, keeping as close as they could to the shelter of the buildings, every once in a while ducking or changing course to avoid a bullet. The rest of the team was following a similar course on the other side of the road and together they were closing in on the gang –

"Drop it, copper, or you're dead."

Sybil was jerked off her feet as she felt someone grab her around the throat from behind – Shit, one of them was hiding in that alleyway...

She could feel something cold and hard being pressed into her back, and with a jolt she saw they had also caught her new DS in a similar chokehold. Both of them dropped their guns, holding up their hands.

They were lifted and thrown into the back of the van and, just before the double doors were slammed shut, one of the robbers leaned in to hit both of them on the head, knocking them out cold...

Sybil's head was throbbing when she came to and found that, for some reason, she couldn't move her right hand from above her head... What the fuck?

She opened her eyes to find herself lying on her side, barely able to see in the dim light from the one dirty window in the room. Her right arm was stretched above her head and her eyes widened when she saw why – her own handcuffs had been locked around her wrist and threaded around a heating duct sticking out of the wall above her head, keeping her tethered and unable to get off the mattress she was lying on. Oh God, they're holding us hostage...

She heard a muttered curse and realised that the other half of the handcuffs was attached to DS Branson. He rolled over to face her, and without warning his mouth crashed onto hers in a passionate kiss.

She responded immediately, pushing her tongue into his mouth and sliding her free hand around his body as he pulled her towards him. Grabbing, clawing at each other, their kiss deepened still further and she let out a moan...

When he finally pulled his lips from hers, he murmured –

"Mo ghile, are you all right?"

She nodded – "Yes, Tom, I think so – how about you?"

"Apart from that almighty whack on the head, yes." He tightened his arm around her waist again, drawing her into his body –

"God, Sybil, when I saw that man grab you, I was terrified!"

She looked down, then back up, meeting his eyes –

"I guess there's a reason they don't let married couples work on the same team! Oh darling, if anything had happened to you..."

He stopped her words with another kiss, their bodies moving together perfectly as they had done many times before. She snuggled more closely into him, feeling his hand slide up under her t-shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back, and felt her breath catch in her throat as the ever-present desire between them rose up, hotter than ever in spite of the terrifying situation they found themselves in.

Tom lifted up her top and Sybil shifted her position to give his mouth access to her body. He fell on her, ravishing her, and she found herself straining against him, trying to get as close as she could as his teeth nipped at the soft skin on the tops of her breasts before he pushed down the lace cups of her bra, finding her nipples and sucking them.

They both wanted more, so he managed to manoeuvre himself so he could undo his fly. She slipped her hand inside his trousers, finding his erect cock and running her fingers along his length, seeing his eyes roll back in his head at her touch.

"God, Sybil, that feels incredible..."

"Love, please, I need you, I need to feel you inside me now..."

She unzipped her dark jeans and pulled them free of her hips, and he helped her turn over so she was facing away from him, her tethered hand still above her head. He tugged her knickers down as he slid his cock into her from behind, his free hand moving around her waist and between her legs, stroking her swollen clit.

Sybil was melting with longing as Tom started to thrust, taking his time with her, murmuring in her ear and kissing the back of her neck. With his words and with his touch, he coaxed her out of that dingy room where they were imprisoned, helping her escape to their private world, a world where they could be free...

She pushed her ripe arse back against him as he drove into her, gradually increasing his pace. Control was almost beyond her now – he knew every inch of her so intimately, and in her heightened emotional state she was even readier than usual to respond to him. He could feel her tensing around him and knew how close she was, so he held back just a little, wanting to draw out her release for as long as he could...

"I love you so much, Sybil, lig tú féin dul, mo ghile..." he murmured in her ear, teasing her clit as his cock moved inside her in perfect rhythm with his fingers.

His beautiful Irish words pushed her over the edge and, despite the danger they were in, she found herself screaming his name as she came, over and over, her body convulsing around him and pushing him to his own orgasm as well.

His fingers stayed on her through the aftershocks, not leaving her until she was done. Then, she moved her body slightly to let him fall free of her, turning back around awkwardly to face him and finding his lips with hers, whispering her love to him between kisses, which he returned with interest...

Tom's hand was just finding Sybil's breasts again when they heard gunfire outside, and the lovers quickly did their best to return their clothing to some kind of order. Just in time – DS Mason burst through the door.

"Guv, Branson, you both OK?"

She called across the room to him – "Yes, Mason, get us the fuck out of here!"

Mason hurried across the room, fumbling with his keys – everyone on the team had the same handcuffs and he was able to free them pretty quickly. Sybil immediately rolled away from Tom, frowning as she sat up on the mattress which had so recently been the scene of their passion.

"I heard screaming, guv, and I thought you were hurt – if you hadn't called out, not sure how long it would have taken us to find you!"

DS O'Brien ran in and she and Mason helped Sybil and Tom to their feet. The Bransons dared to give each other a single, loving glance before the masks slipped back into place –

"Branson, you muppet, get out of my way! Christ, the crap I have to put up with in this job..."

Mason raised an eyebrow at O'Brien as Sybil raced out the door to find the rest of her team – "Nice to see the DI's straight back on form - hard as nails, she is."

Tom smiled to himself – If they only knew...

A/N -

"Blues and twos" is a colloquial British term that refers to the vehicle equipment of combined flashing lights and sirens that the emergency services in the UK use when responding to an incident. The origin of the phrase comes from the fact the lights are usually blue and the traditional siren was a two-tone horn.

Irish translations, per Google translate -

"mo ghile" = my darling

"lig tú féin dul" = let yourself go