(i)

Max Carter had spent the first three and a half decades of his life saying he would never never never never never ever marry or have children. He said this repeatedly to his family, and to anyone else who tried to raise the issue with him. His sisters would laugh and ask him if this meant his conviction would fail him once the fifth 'never' had passed, but in their hearts his stubbornness in regard to this worried them. Having been his emotional support and protectors for all his life, they worried because they knew he didn't realise just how reliant on family he actually was. They worried this ignorance would render him a child forever. And then his mother worried because his single status was almost an embarrassment to her, as marriage was, well, The Done Thing! It wasn't as if she hadn't patiently given him long enough to sow his oats! She reminded him that he was selfishly depriving her of the several grandchildren it was his duty to produce. He was his father's only son and therefore it was up to him to carry on the family name.

And then had come the day that Max had discovered he already had a family, of sorts, in the form of a son, Thomas, and Millie, with whom he had had a one night stand. He found that once family was thrust upon him, it wasn't as bad as he thought. He adored Thomas and felt instantly bonded from the moment he laid eyes on him. He found that the relationship created by co-parenting a child with Millie was not as suffocating or scary as he had always feared a monogamous, committed relationship would be. He realised he truly desired and loved Millie, and was quite comfortable with the notion of having her company throughout the rest of his life.

Most of the time, and especially when he was with Millie and Thomas, he was entirely happy. He believed they completed his life, and life with them was what he wanted.

But, he still had occasional moments of doubt. And this was well and truly one of them…

Max was looking into the dewy blue eyes of the curvaceous blonde who was seated straddling his thighs. He could so see himself riding this little pony home! He thought to himself that she was actually rather pretty. Unlike a lot of strippers he'd seen, she didn't have a hardened, over made-up look, and stood up to a scrutiny even this close with flying colours. He watched her looking back at him and knew that all he had to do was say the word, and she'd willingly be his tonight.

Mickey Webb turned to Terry Perkins and Dale Smith and said, "Should we be stopping Max from doing something he might regret here?"

Smithy shrugged, "It's his last night of freedom. Perhaps we should just let him enjoy it? Thought I must say, I do feel bad for Millie…"

"Hmm, well, you can understand the temptation This girl's a cute little thing," said Terry admiringly. He had had a few beers, and was prepared to give even Max the benefit of the doubt as a consequence.

"Come off it Terry!" retorted Mickey. "He's nearly twice her age!"

Terry continued, "Even so..."

"She'd be about the age of your daughter, hey Terry?" interrupted Nate. He wasn't being facetious, just voicing a thought that had popped into his head.

Terry spluttered on his beer. "Eh? She's nothing like my daughter! Anyway, Holly would never do something like this. She's at university!"

"Probably this girl is too," continued Nate. "She's might be just doing this to pay her way. Lots of them do you know."

Terry hurriedly gulped down his beer. "Woo, look at the time! I'd better be going home!" He gathered his keys and phone and nodded goodbye to those assembled.

It escaped no one's attention that he was on his phone before he was out the door.

Everyone at the table laughed, not just because of Terry's reaction, but because it was obvious that Nate was sitting there in blissful ignorance of the fact that he had been the cause of Terry's sudden departure.

The diversion created by Terry meant that no one was thinking about Max anymore. So he sat and continued to look up at the stripper in his lap. He realised that without being conscious of it he had placed a hand on each of her thighs, as if gently pushing them apart. She started to move in closer to him, but instinct told him the right thing to do was to back slightly away from her. Instead of being able to claim this as a moral victory, he found it just gave him an opportunity to examine her undeniably appealing form more closely. Not too skinny, which he liked, but absolutely no fat in places where it shouldn't be. His eyes moved from her face to the breasts only inches away from his face. This girl was what you would call a natural beauty, but there was no doubt those breasts were fake. He didn't have any particular viewpoint on breast enhancement, but up close these ones seemed somehow stretched to their limit. They were so pumped up, he thought, they almost looked painful!

The whole 'painful breasts' thing led Max's train of thought to a memory of Millie breastfeeding his infant son. He remembered how swollen and uncomfortable lactating had made her feel, and how the first time they had slept together after Thomas's birth, she had leaked breast milk all over him. A fond smile came to his lips as he thought about it. Forgetting all about the girl currently sitting on top of him, he wondered to himself what Millie and Thomas were doing at home right now. Thomas would have been bathed and put to bed. Millie would be tidying things up and making her way alone to their empty bed. Max glanced at his watch and saw it was ten o'clock. Late enough for a night out he'd only agreed to under protest. It was time to go home.

Max smiled apologetically to the girl and gently pushed her off him. Then he stood up and walked away. The girl looked slightly disappointed, as she had been very attracted to Max, but she seemed to take it in her stride. As he went around the room saying his good byes, she had already moved on to chatting up Callum Stone…

(ii)

As the Sun Hill contingent of guests walked to the gate of Max and Millie's house, they encountered the two familiar forms of Sally Armstrong and Beth Green, both of whom Millie must have invited. Hellos and kisses were exchanged. Everyone felt there was a lot of catching up to do, but they were all too preoccupied with getting their private opinions on Max and Millie's nuptials out of the way before they were within earshot of either Millie or Max's family.

"Well, well," said Jo, clucking her tongue. "This is a nice place they've got here!"

"I think it's Max's," said Stevie.

"Makes sense. Middle-aged career policeman, bachelor, lives for his job - what else would he have to spend his money on?" said Grace

"It takes one to know one, eh Grace?" said Jo nudging her, well aware that the same could be said about both of them.

"The house is all well and good, but, honestly, does anyone think Millie's doing the right thing? I mean…Max?" said Sally, who would actually have been right in presuming that most people shared her view on this.

"Oh Max isn't so bad," said Beth. "He's all right if you just let him know you don't take him too seriously."

Grace looked over at the young officer and was reminded how despite the fact she gave the impression of being young and ditzy, she was also incredibly insightful.

"I'm sure you're right, Beth," she conceded.

"Well anyway, once Thomas appeared on the scene I think it was Max who wanted a relationship, wasn't it?" asked Jo.

"From what happened at the Baptism, that's the impression I got, isn't that right Mel?" replied Stevie.

"Oh yeah," agreed Mel. "I'll never forget how Max raced across the room when he saw Will Fletcher chatting up Millie!"

Everyone laughed.

"Well, here we are. Lead the way Stevie," said Jo, unlatching the gate and guiding everyone through.

They walked up the path and Stevie rang the door bell. Mag soon appeared to let them in.

"Hello everyone!" said Mag. She nodded at Stevie, whom she had met at Thomas's Baptism and with whom she had spoken on the phone earlier in the evening. "So," she asked quietly, "did you manage to organise the surprise we discussed?"

"I did," smiled Stevie. "Or rather, Jo called in a favour."

Jo reached out her hand to Mag and the two women nodded to each other.

"One young, built, apparently gorgeous young man will be joining us later. Oh, and he'll be wearing a uniform!"

"Oh, excellent!" said Mag excitedly. "I can't wait! And not just for Millie's sake, let me tell you!"

Mag ushered the guests into the living room where Millie sat with Max's older sister, Johanna, and a couple of friends of hers from outside Sun Hill.

The evening progressed with much eating, drinking, chatter and laughter. Everyone was impressed with the way Max's sisters had managed to throw together a delicious array of snacks in such a short amount of time. The drinks went quickly to Millie's head, but she felt so relaxed and supported in the company of her women friends, she almost completely forgot about her anger at Max and was able to really enjoy herself.

The chatter and the music became louder, and everyone's behaviour became less inhibited and slightly more outrageous. They all laughed at Max's sisters' stories about their family (they were too loyal to their brother to single him out). The sisters laughed in their turn at stories about the goings on at Sun Hill. Millie's eyes shone as she happily thought to herself that she couldn't have imagined a better way to celebrate her Hen's night.

At about 930, there was a knock on the door.

"Oh God, Millie," said Mag. "This time I'm too drunk to get up. Do you think you could answer that?"

"Sure!" said Millie, a tad overenthusiastically. She got up from her seat, with a bit more difficulty than she had anticipated, but Sally and Beth managed to reach out and steady her to prevent her falling over. She walked through the door into the passageway.

All her guests remained in the sitting room and looked at each other knowingly.

Millie opened the front door to behold a police officer standing there. She looked him up and down and tried to work out if she recognised him from either Sun Hill or Barton St. She didn't. But he was certainly worth the looking over! He's hot, she thought. Why didn't more of her colleagues look this good?

"Can I help you, officer?" she asked, holding onto the doorpost to stop herself (or the room) from swaying.

"Sorry to disturb you Ma'am, but we've had a few complaints about the noise," the officer said.

"Really?" Millie was surprised. She honestly didn't think they were being that loud, and she'd always thought that the brick walls of their house were pretty much soundproof.

"And we have reason to believe that, even as we speak, a crime's being committed."

Millie was puzzled. She looked at the officer more closely. There was something odd about the way he looked. Was it his uniform?

Hang on a minute! she thought to herself. Our uniforms aren't usually held on with Velcro!

"What crime?" she said. She knew this man wasn't a real policeman, but she hadn't quite worked out what his game was.

The young man took a step towards her, as Millie instinctively took a step back. They matched each other step for step, until Millie had found she'd back herself into a wall.

She hadn't noticed her friends were now gathered in the hallway, watching the whole proceedings and trying not to laugh.

"The crime," said the young man who, once he had Millie cornered, was slowly dragging his truncheon down the front of her blouse, "is that there's a beautiful young lady being taken off the market, and no one's given her a proper send off. If you know what I mean."

Millie was left speechless as the man punctuated each word of his last sentence by thrusting his hips at her.

"But it's OK. I'm on the case now," he said, before he scooped Millie up in his arms and carried her through her clapping and laughing friends (one or two of whom sneaked in a grope as he passed them) and back into the sitting room.

Someone had placed a chair in the middle of the room. The man put Millie onto it, drew her hands behind her back and handcuffed her.

To much cheering and whistling (and the odd illicit feel), he showed Millie and the others assembled what the Velcro on his uniform was actually for…

Soon all he was wearing was a g-string and his hat.

He gestured for the music to be turned down and he moved purposefully closer to Millie. Once again he ran his truncheon over her body. He ran it along her arm from her wrist to her shoulder. He brought it back down caressingly along the arm's underside. Millie found herself shivering at the lightness of his touch. He knelt in front of her and ran the truncheon along the inner part of her legs, darting it for the briefest moment under her skirt. Millie hoped her face didn't betray the dizzy thrill she was getting from feeling completely at the mercy of his whims.

He put his hands on her thighs and pulled himself to standing position between her legs. He hooked his truncheon into the low cut front of her blouse and licked his lips as he examined what it contained.

Millie sat obediently, quietly exhilarated by not quite being able to anticipate what his next move would be.

He stopped and pulled an envelope out of the brim of his hat. He stroked it between his fingers.

"Your friends have got together and organised a little something for you." He held the envelope towards her. "Do you want it?"

Millie nodded and leant forward in her chair. He snatched the envelope away.

"No, you know what, I think you're going to have to work a little harder than that to get it." He slid the envelope down the front of his g-string and smiled.

"Come and get it," he said, moving himself closer to her.

Millie was still handcuffed to her chair, and realised she had no choice but to remove the envelope from his g-string with her teeth.

The room was suddenly filled with whooping and screams of excitement. Everyone, even Mag and Johanna, was egging Millie on. Millie decided she might as well give her friends what they wanted. After all, it kind of looked like fun. She leant her body forward and moved towards the young man's crotch. She opened her mouth, ready to receive her present.

Just as she had clenched the envelope between her teeth she realised that Max had entered the room and was standing speechless at the view of his fiancée handcuffed to a chair with her open mouth milimetres away from the budging pouch worn by some very underdressed but rather over-muscled male stranger…