AN: So you're getting a few chapters to start you off here so I think this will be the last author's note for tonight, just again encouraging reviews *wink wink nudge nudge* and also because I forgot to do this last chapter and I can't figure out how to modify that...

For the record: I DO NOT OWN BLUE BLOODS! If I did we'd see a lot more Jamie for starters and we'd learn some more about the almost blank canvas that is Dt Joe Reagan!

From previous chapter:

"Sergeant Elizabeth Copter, Commissioner," Baker introduced the woman in civilian clothes and then looked to Frank to see if he needed anything else.

"That'll be all Baker thank you." The detective nodded and retreated closing the door behind her.

Frank examined the newcomer as she glanced around the office before visibly bracing herself and looking up at him as he stood expectantly by the window. He saw that his prior assessment of her as nervous wasn't an overstatement by any means, her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists and even that didn't stop the tremors entirely. Her already pale skin almost had a sickly green wash to it and her short red hair looked like she'd run her hand through it repeatedly before rapidly trying to smooth it before entering his office. He struggled to visualise her as a police officer. Even recalling what he could about the black uniform of his forces' London counterparts she still looked too small to really be able to project the air of authority and physical presence he knew was a cop's best defence on the streets of any city.

She seemed to be examining him just as intently as he was her but she quickly brought their mutual assessment to an end, "Commissioner Reagan it's a pleasure to meet you Sir."

A hand reached out to him as the woman took steps towards him across his office and Frank was forced to revise his previous opinion of her. Physical size she may lack but something about her confidence and bearing, even if he knew she was nervous as hell, made him realise she was just as capable of handling trouble as any officer in his department. It reminded him of some other women he'd known his wife in particular, but Frank quickly dismissed the thought.

"Sergeant Copter," Frank responded. He was often called a stoic man of few words but the truth was, although never accused of being a chatterbox, the former detective knew the value of silence. Of letting a stranger fill that silence with information, and as he had no idea what a London sergeant was doing in his office it only seemed fair to let her bring him up to speed to level the playing field.

Frank thought her eyes flicked briefly over his shoulder, to the plaque showing Joe's photo and acknowledging his sacrifice in the service of their city that Frank kept on the table beside his window but it was a motion so fast he may have imagined it. She released her much smaller hand from their solid handshake and seemed to settle herself into their conversation. "I understand that my visit may seem a little strange commissioner, and I appreciate your assistant fitting me into what I know must be a hectic schedule at such short notice but the fact is I needed to speak to you and I've come to New York on something of an impulse."

Well she'd certainly piqued his interest now and he motioned for her to continue as he walked back to his desk and sat in his well-worn chair.

"The truth is sir, I knew your son - Joe that is." Elizabeth kept her eyes on the large man behind the desk as she settled into the chair he'd indicated, she saw the flicker of surprise behind his eyes as she started to explain herself. He may not look much like Joe, she thought, but the way they carry themselves is uncanny.

"You did?" OK, so plainly the man wasn't going to make it easy, she thought mildly irritated but he could at least give me something.

"Yes sir. You know Joe came over to London for a month as part of that mutual department understanding and cross-Atlantic collaboration drive a few years ago." She knew damn well the man knew that, Joe had said how his father had encouraged him to see a bit of the world on the department's dime. But he really did seem determined to make her explain herself with absolute clarity so Elizabeth steeled herself to try to do so. It was going to be a long story, she thought ruefully.

"Joe had only been in the city a few days before we met on shift. It was supposed to just be a reasonably quiet Friday night, no major football matches, nothing to really get the tensions rising at all but you know how it can happen sir. One comment gets taken the wrong way and you can have the sparks flying in seconds," Elizabeth saw the smile that flickered across the PC's face, the same look she'd seen on many a reminiscing copper over the years. "Anyway, it was about 11.30 and we got a call over the radio about a pub fight that looked to be getting nasty. One of those ones that just suck in the people that go in to break them up. There were three officers on scene already requesting assistance so my partner and I flicked on the blues-and-twos and hightailed it over to the Lion.

"The place was a mess when we got there, the fight was raging out of control and we couldn't see the officers that were already there, just a flicker of high-vis wet weather jacket every so often. The fight was starting to spill out into the street and more and more coppers were showing up by the minute, so we waded in and started to try and break it up. Took us about 15 minutes to settle it, 30 something officers had gotten involved and about twenty arrests. It was a mess though and we ended up with a massive convoy to the local emergency department.

"They were packed at the hospital anyway but they're pretty good to us there and so they started putting injured officers into exam rooms to get us seen, minor injuries were two to a room trying to make it as quick as possible. I'd managed to pick up a sprained wrist and got tucked into an exam room to wait for an x-ray to check it wasn't broken. That was when I met Joe."

She couldn't help the small smile that crept across her face as she remembered that night. The fight had been loud chaos as usual but the adrenaline rush was worth it. She'd been riding the rush so high that they'd been halfway to the hospital before Ellie had even realised something was badly wrong with her wrist. Her and Connelly, her partner had only been heading to the ED because the toerag she'd managed to arrest had taken the business end of a smashed bottle along the side of his face and looked like he was going to need some serious stitches. By the time they got there though the wrist which had been a little sore when they got in the car was absolute agony and seriously swollen. She'd been hustled into the little exam room by a nurse and told someone would be in to check on her as soon as possible.

"Joe and the officer he was riding with had been involved in the fight too and Joe had managed to catch a glancing blow from a thrown bar stool. He was in there for a possible concussion check. Thanks to the darling NHS we were in there for almost an hour before we got more than pain killers so we'd gotten talking and hit it off," her voice trailed off as she seemed to be considering her next words carefully and Frank thought for a minute, trying to remember hearing Joe talk about the incident.

He remembered the time she was describing very well. Joe had been one of twenty detectives and uniforms chosen to spend a month in London working with the Metropolitan police whilst their positions back in New York were to be filled by an opposite number from London. The exchange had been reasonably successful and the returning officers brought home plenty of new experiences and ideas but it caused just enough headaches for himself and the Met commissioner that it was decided the experiment wouldn't be repeated. It was ironic, he thought briefly, he and Joe had almost spoken more in that month than they had in the two and a half months following Joe's return before his death. They had spoken almost every day and Frank could vaguely remember Joe describing the events the sergeant was retelling.

"He hadn't even been in London a week had he?" Frank questioned softly.

"No sir, he was riding a normal beat with one of the uniforms from another station, just to get the lay of the land before he started working with the detectives from CID. It was only his second shift." She saw the recognition move over the commissioner's face. Maybe I was wrong, perhaps Joe did mention me to his father before he died. That would certainly make this slightly less awkward.

"He mentioned the stop in hospital but he didn't mention you, sorry."

Well there goes that theory.

"I didn't think he had commissioner," she replied swiftly but again she seemed stuck for words so Frank took pity on the woman who obviously still had something to say and he stood and moved to the coffee pot brewing in the corner of his office.