Jo stepped forward, glancing at the wine rack, this was definitely going to call for something stronger than coffee. Stu was still staring at the coffee maker as if it was a puzzle to be solved upon which his life depended. But she wasn't about to let him hide from her. They needed to have this out in the open. She'd heard all about their day from Terry, Grace and Kezia, even Mickey and Eddie had things to say; but Mickey was also concerned enough about Stuart's state of mind to corner Jo about it.

Jo was going to get to the bottom of the conundrum that was Stuart Turner once and for all.

She reached past him to the wine rack, and pulled out a bottle, and put her hand on his, "not coffee," he was still resistant, his face turned away, "get a couple of glasses" she prompted. He hesitated, then pulled the cupboard open, and picked up two wine glasses. Jo picked up the bottle and the corkscrew she'd found in the cutlery drawer and guided him firmly back to his sofa.

She busied herself opening the bottle, and poured them a generous glassful each. "Stu, you do realise it's just possible that the team would understand, that you don't need this big act to prove that you're immune."

For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer her, he was looking down at the floor. Then he looked up, looked directly at her, his lashes were sticking together in little clumps, and she could see the streaks of tears on his face, but the pain and confusion in his expression said it all.

"I know." He muttered, and she took his hand again.

"Stu... why do you do it? You're an intelligent person, with so much to give. Why is it always the big act, and all that attitude?"

"I...."

"And don't tell me it's your distance, preventing you from caring too much, or getting too close. I've heard that one before, and I don't quite buy it."

For a moment she thought she had pushed too hard. An expression of anger crossed his face, and a muscle clenched in his jaw. Then she realised that the anger was more internalised than anything she had said. He picked up the glass and took a hefty slug of the wine.

"What is the point of any of it, Jo?" his voice was so quiet, she wasn't clear that she had really heard what he said.

"Stuart?"

He emptied the glass, and reached for the bottle, pouring himself another generous measure. "I do what I do, and then I come home to this." He waved his hand.

She stared at him, as he took another hefty belt from the glass. "Well, the idea of this Stu, was we were supposed to get to the bottom of what's troubling you. Not provoke a crisis of faith." She put a hand on his arm, as he drained the second glass. "This isn't like you."

"What is me, though?" He poured another glass of wine.

Slightly nonplussed at the turn the conversation was taking, Jo looked at him in confusion. Weighing her words carefully, she gave it to him straight "A talented, and intelligent officer with a lot to give, who isn't nearly as aloof or as arrogant as he would have everyone think he is."

"Oh, sure."

She was surprised by the bitterness in his tone. "Stuart? How long have you felt like this?" she breathed "Slow down there a bit, hun," as he took another sizeable gulp from the wine glass.

"How long?" he muttered, "I don't know. A while." He looked at her, and she tried to read his expression, "Ever wonder why we do it? What it's all for?"

Jo thought about it, "We do it for the same reasons we always did, hun. The people who need us."

"Do they really?" Stuart's eyes were sad, and there was a heaviness in his tone, "Tonight, I told that little boy that it would all be okay, that Mike Vincent was going away for a long time." He looked down at the floor. "He'll plead guilty, so that's automatically fifty percent off, and then by the time the solicitor and the barrister have finished, they'll knock a bit more off, and he'll be out in eighteen months... Free to do it again to someone else."

He reached out for the glass again, but Jo intercepted him. "Stu, you did what you could. Even eighteen months is a long time to that family."

"Longer than you know."

Jo looked at him in horror, "What's brought all this on?"

"Just wondering why I chose this life, why I've done any of the things I've done." He looked around him. "What any of this is actually... for." He picked up the glass with his other hand, and gulped the rest of it back.

Her fingers tightened round his wrist, "Stu, you're very good at what you do." She looked around her at his beautiful, immaculate flat, "You're successful, just look at yourself, and what's around you. This place is gorgeous!" She took his hand between both of hers, "okay you could slow down a little, think a bit more before you say things that upset and annoy people, but everyone appreciates how good you are at the job."

He really didn't look like he believed her. "Do you know why I joined the Police?" the change of tack stunned Jo as Stuart's dark eyes searched her face. "I did it because I was bored with teaching and routine, and rude children that I wasn't allowed to control. Then along comes one of my old uni mates and he's so full of joining the Met, so I thought... why not... where's the harm? ... and I love to win; so I joined because I wanted to win, to beat him. I had to be the best. So I won, and I beat him, and I got the pick of the postings. I've scratched and scraped my way up. I made DS, and then all that business with 'Wanted' and I really thought I had it all." The look of defeat in his eyes was painful to her.

"For what, Jo?" He tilted his head back a second, and she caught the flash of brightness in his eyes, he swallowed hard.

"Stu... I don't know what to say..."

He reached for the bottle again. "Get drunk with me, Jo."

She picked up her glass, and took a sip. It was a lovely red, velvety smooth, he'd put a lot of thought and care into buying it. The way he had with his flat, carefully saving and managing his money so that he could afford to buy a place like this. Will and Stevie had been quite full of his living the dream. Looking around her, the evidence of his organised life everywhere, from the gym schedule neatly pinned to the kitchen door, to the rest of the immaculately ordered room, Jo wondered about the reality.

"I ran into Si two weeks ago."