Disclaimer, Pairings, Content, Rating & Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews of Chapter 1 – hope this update doesn't disappoint! Apologies to WtD fans, though, as this chapter is pretty much all NT (with the odd mention of our lovely Boyd & Grace thrown in for good measure ;))…. x

"Fifteenth of June 1990, a five year old boy and a three year old girl were found dead in Epping Forest, each killed with a single laceration to the throat." Sandra snatched a quick breath as she noted the details onto the white board, her chest tightening as her eyes briefly glimpsed the post mortem photographs partially hidden beneath the cover of the file. "DNA tests revealed them to be siblings, though no match could be found to either parent."

"The parents were top of the suspects list, though," Gerry added solemnly. "I had colleagues in my unit at the time working on the case but they never could trace them."

"No-one came forward to either claim the children or report them missing," Sandra continued, "and a nationwide appeal yielded nothing of any use."

"They were determined to be from a low socio-economic group, weren't they?" asked Brian with an increasingly deepening frown. "Undernourished, poorly clothed…."

"Yeah. The original investigation concluded that they must have been street kids, snatched from wherever they were staying and…."

"So basically what they thought is that no-one gave a shit." Jack's voice was harsh, his tone flat. "No-one reported them missing because no-one missed them, full stop."

"A three year old and a five year old, though?" Gerry blew out a disbelieving breath and shook his head. "They were hardly more than babies; I mean, where the bloody hell was the mother?"

"Well, that brings me on to the reason we've been given the case," Sandra replied, one hand reaching for the file notes as she turned briefly back towards the board. "As part of the review process, the children's DNA was tried against the database and, despite not expecting it, they managed to get a hit."

"The mother?" Brian asked.

Sandra nodded and held up a photograph before adding it to the board. "Melanie Laplin, a prostitute currently serving a three-month sentence for drug offences."

Jack shrugged. "If she's a drug addict it might explain why she never reported her children missing."

"Assuming she wasn't the one who killed them," Gerry interjected, leaning forward to address Sandra anew. "Has she been told, Guv?"

The Superintendent scanned the file notes before giving a clipped nod. "Yesterday, apparently, though by the looks of things she hasn't been fully questioned. You and I can do that this afternoon."

"Why the delay? What she says could be crucial, couldn't it?"

She shrugged one slender shoulder, nonplussed. "Strickland wants to see me at noon. His secretary…."

"Mind my blood pressure, Sandra…."

"…said there's something very important he wants to run by me," she continued smoothly, studiously ignoring the widening grin of the former Detective Sergeant. "Something to do with a special approach he'd like us to take with this one."

"That's very cryptic," Jack cut in, one eyebrow arched in curiosity. "You'd better prepare your defence."

"Against what?" Sandra frowned. "To be fair, Jack, he's normally very hands-off these days."

"Bloody right," Brian added forcefully. "We don't need to be told how to run an investigation."

"So get your best 'sod off' speech ready," Gerry furthered. "I suppose you could add a 'sir' if he starts to get really arsey."

Sandra rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, he's not the enemy. He's demonstrated time and again that he trusts we know what we're doing; if he wants to give us his input there must be a reason."

"Probably a bollocks reason."

"Oh, wind your neck in, Gerry," she snapped in exasperation, earning simultaneous chuckles from the remainder of her team. "Make yourself useful and do some background on the mother before we go and see her, alright?"

"And us, madam?" Jack asked gamely, his smile broadening at Gerry's reactive muttering as the ex-DS stood and moved dutifully towards his desk.

"You two go through the original investigation with a fine toothed comb; see if they missed anything in terms of ID'ing the victims, the details of the post-mortems, anything that could give us a concrete starting point."

"I'll also have a scout about at where the mother was living at the time," Brian suggested, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they slid down of their own accord. "See if I can track down any of the neighbours."

"Good." Sandra gave a crisp nod of satisfaction, scooping up the file and beginning to walk towards her office, half turning back towards the bullpen as Jack softly called her name.

"This agenda of Strickland's…," he began.

"Christ, you're as bad as Gerry," she groaned irritably, her sharp blue eyes flashing. "There's no big conspiracy here, Jack. Whatever he wants to see me about…."

"He's pushed this to the top of the pile, though, hasn't he?"

"Because of the DNA."

"Sure that's all it is?"

"It's a pretty bullet-proof reason, isn't it? Given that we're talking about child murders."

"A 'special approach', though? That damn well sounds like an agenda to me."

"I'm not a mind-reader, Jack."

"Just don't let him bully you."

She held his gaze unflinchingly, a slow grin spreading across her feline features as she caught the mischievous twinkle sparkling across his eyes, the teasing lilt to his tone. "Ha bloody ha."

Jack laughed loudly. "We'll keep an ear out for the fireworks, then."

She smirked. "I'll let you know what he says."

"We'll be waiting with baited breath."

With a final characteristic eye roll at his facetious remark , the Superintendent turned and stalked back into her inner sanctum.

Sandra strode briskly down the corridor away from her boss' immaculate office, the sound of her heeled boots echoing loudly around the sterile walls, her intelligent mind flickering in retrospect across the conversation she had just been a participant in. His words had come as a complete surprise and she was well aware that it had shown in her expression….

…

"I want you to take it as read that she'll be joining you." Robert Strickland's well-spoken baritone was firm, holding up a palm to pre-empt his subordinate's inevitable protest. "She'll be an asset, Superintendent."

Sandra leant forward earnestly across the highly polished mahogany desk. "I'm not arguing that, sir. I'm well aware of her credentials…."

"Well, then."

"I'm just saying that we don't need her, that's all. Aside from the fact that Gerry used to be in the paedophile unit…."

"Spurious, at best…."

"…we've got a wealth of murder squad experience. We've dealt with dozens of cases like this."

Strickland raised an eyebrow as he regarded her. "Not quite. Infanticide on the part of a mother?"

Sandra blew out a frustrated breath. "That's yet to be established. We haven't even questioned her yet, sir."

"Be that as it may. It's my opinion that this case requires specialised advice and expertise; and they don't come any more specialised than Grace Foley."

The Superintendent narrowed her ice-blue eyes and sat back in her chair as she surveyed her boss. "The CCU isn't within your remit."

"Of course not. I could hardly head two Cold Case squads."

"And DAC Smith is okay with you poaching her profiler?"

"It's strictly for one case, Sandra; she was fine." He gave a humourless laugh. "Peter Boyd, on the other hand…."

Sandra grinned widely at the mention of the infamously formidable associate Superintendent. "I can well imagine."

"Do you know each other?"

She shook her head, silken blond hair swaying gently about her shoulders. "Only by reputation."

"Yes, well…even Boyd has to respect the chain of command from time to time." The DAC sighed, folding his hands atop the well-organised desk as he leant towards her. "I wouldn't be insisting on this if I didn't think it would benefit your investigation, Superintendent. There's no ulterior motive here."

"I wasn't suggesting that for a moment, sir. All I'm questioning is its necessity."

"Doctor Foley is a highly respected psychologist with vast years of experience. Her input could be absolutely critical."

She held his authoritative gaze steadily for a long moment before giving an acquiescent shrug. "I can't promise the boys will be on board…."

"I can't see what they'd have to object to. Criminal profiling isn't exactly some new-fangled…."

"No, I know. But these are the boys we're talking about." They shared a brief, conspiratorially warm smile before Sandra rose decisively to her feet. "I'd better go and break it to them."

"Tell them to expect Doctor Foley first thing tomorrow."

"We'll be sure to prepare the red carpet."

Strickland inclined his head indulgently. "Keep me posted on your progress, Superintendent."

"Of course."

….

Presently she gave a loud sigh, steeling herself for inevitable confrontation as she headed down the stairs and pushed open the doors to the UCOS bullpen once more.

"What did his Highness want, then?" Gerry's tone was typically acerbic as he addressed her over the top of his reading glasses, the various papers strewn across his desk rustling as he leant forwards.

"Where are the other two?" she asked obliquely, ignoring his frown at her deliberate side-stepping of his question.

"Sandwich run," he answered, rising to his feet and walking towards the kettle. "Shall we have a coffee while you give me a sneak preview?"

"Coffee, yes," she breathed vehemently, flopping down onto the sofa and allowing her eyes to roam in satisfaction across the now heavily adorned board. "You've been busy."

"I can follow instructions, you know. On occasion." He took a seat beside her momentarily and placed the customary purple mug into her hands, smiling at her grateful sigh. "Come on, then, Guv: sneak preview?"

"Forget it, Gerry. I don't want to have to repeat myself." She took a generous sip of coffee and surveyed the board once more. "Fill me in on the mother."

"Well, that hardly seems fair," he bristled good-naturedly. "Whatever happened to 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?"

She gave him a smug grin, cerulean eyes twinkling impishly. "I'm the boss. Same rules don't apply."

"Bloody shame."

Sandra flicked his thigh with the back of her free hand to focus his attention. "Come on: the mother, Gerry."

He chuckled and took a breath to appease her but was interrupted by the other half of the team as they re-entered the bullpen mid-conversation, and he laughed gleefully even as Sandra groaned. "Saved by the bell, eh, Guv'nor?"

"You're back, then," Brian observed gruffly as he dutifully distributed cellophane wrapped sandwiches to the sofa's occupants before heading towards the kettle.

"Bloody hell; no flies on you, are there, Brian?" Gerry scoffed.

"What did he say?" the former DI continued unfazed to Sandra, pouring steaming water into two mugs and handing one to Jack.

She glared at him disdainfully and waved her sandwich in the air. "Do you think I could possibly have a mouthful first?"

"She's stalling," Gerry cut in, earning him a further daggered glower from his boss. "Has been since the minute she stepped back through the door."

"She is doing nothing of the sort," Sandra snapped, unwrapping her sandwich and taking a deliberately large bite. "How much do I owe you, Jack?"

The former Chief Superintendent gestured dismissively, even as Brian frowned indignantly. "How d'you know I didn't buy them?"

"Not bloody likely, is it?" Gerry interjected, smirking. "Tight Northern git."

"I'd be careful bandying that one about, Gerry," Jack replied mildly as he made his way over to his colleagues. "Or this particular Northern git might be inclined to reclaim that delicious-looking BLT from your thieving Cockney hands."

"Or thieving French hands, to be more precise," Sandra added, laughing loudly as Gerry clocked her on the head with his sandwich. "I could nick you for that."

"I'm not bleedin' French. That's actually worse than 'tosser'."

"Anyway," Brian interrupted around a large bite of cheese and pickle. "What did Strickland want?"

Sandra sighed heavily, placing her sandwich onto her lap and taking a fortifying gulp of coffee before speaking again, carefully considering her words as they left the confines of her lips. "So…this special approach he wants us to take…."

"Where he's the puppet master and we're the bleedin' puppets," Gerry muttered.

"That's the brass for you," agreed Jack sourly. "There's always some angle or other, some…."

"Nothing's changed since we were in the job, Jack," Brian added. "It's why unions are so important…."

"God, you lot could bitch and moan for England," Sandra groaned and rubbed a weary hand across her eyes. "Do you actually want to hear what I've got to say or not?"

"It depends," Gerry replied. "How much is Strickers planning to stick his oar in? And for once I actually didn't mean that in the dodgy way."

"The special approach," Sandra continued stoically, forcefully, "is that he wants to bring in a psychological profiler to advise us on this case, alright? Nothing to get your collective knickers in a twist about."

"Ah, bloody hell…."

Sandra raised her palm to stem the incoming tide. "It's not negotiable. So I suggest you get used to the idea quickly because she's arriving first thing tomorrow."

"It's a bit pre-emptive, isn't it?" Brian added, scowling. "It's not like we've had any time to get our teeth into this case yet."

She shrugged. "Strickland thinks we need specialist expertise."

"I could go with that if we'd actually uncovered something," the former DI replied. "But he's jumping the gun a bit, isn't he?"

"He's a control freak, Brian…," Gerry began.

"We control freaks are a select group, Gerry; don't be trying to afford him entry."

"Well, you explain it, then. He always has to poke his nose in, trying to tell us how to do our jobs."

"It might not be as bad as it sounds," Jack said calmly, his attention turning anew to Sandra. "Who's he seconded?"

Sandra gave a soft sigh. "Doctor Foley…."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Grace Foley?"

"As in the CCU's Grace Foley?" Gerry asked in astonishment.

"Doctor Grace Foley," Brian began, closing his eyes briefly as he searched his extensive memory banks for the information he sought. "BA in psychology, 1971, University of Liverpool, specialising in criminal psychology for her doctorate in 1975. Post-doctoral research at Kings College during which time she started consulting on an ad-hoc basis for the Met. Extensive work at Broadmoor and more police consultancy, before she joined the CCU in the year 2000. She's also a prolific author, both of academic papers and reference books, and is widely considered to be one of the best psychologists in her field."

"Just hang on a minute here," Gerry said, raising a palm towards the rest of the group. "Why her, specifically? There's got to be a dozen profilers working for the Met."

"It's like Brian said," Sandra replied with a shrug. "She's the best at what she does. I guess Strickland thinks that's what we need on this case."

"Yeah, well, I don't trust it. Having someone here from the CCU is a bit like having a spy in the camp."

Sandra rolled her eyes in disdain. "Don't be ridiculous."

"To be fair, Sandra," Jack interjected. "It must have occurred to you over the years about the necessity for two cold case squads…and whether we might one day be considered surplus to requirements."

The Superintendent gave a vehement shake of her head. "Not even for a moment; we're complementary to the CCU, that's never been up for discussion."

"Yeah, but with all the cuts….," Brian shrugged darkly. "I wouldn't put it past the powers-that-be to get rid of us in favour of keeping them going."

"For God's sake, when did you lot get so damned fatalistic?"

"Maybe we're just realistic," Gerry chimed in. "And with them bringing in Doctor Foley….That sounds like a bid to merge us, to me. With you, as the only actual copper here, surviving it."

"In case you've missed it, Gerry, Peter Boyd and I happen to be the same rank; if anyone wouldn't survive a merger, it's most likely to be me." Sandra shook her head once more, determined to bring the conversation back under her control. "Anyway, this is all irrelevant. Doctor Foley isn't coming in with some secret agenda; she's here for this one case, to give us the benefit of her expertise."

"Well, bollocks to it. They can't spring this on us and expect us not to question it."

"Yeah, well, for now we need to take it at face value, alright? She'll be here first thing and I expect you all to get on with it."

Gerry raised his palms in defence. "Of course."

"And no jokey innuendos about her private life either, Gerry."

The former DS feigned hurt astonishment though his eyes were gleaming mischievously. "As if I would."

"You bloody would," Brian stated firmly. "That's why she said it."

"Though if you will shack up with your boss…."

Sandra tutted disapprovingly. "Technically Boyd's not her boss; and it's none of your business, even if it is true."

"Nothing like the Met rumour mill," Jack intoned dryly. "The most reliable source of information for who's shagging who, when and where."

"Frankly, whether it's true or not is beside the point. All I'm interested in is whether she can point us in the right direction on this case," Sandra replied with a marked glare at Gerry. "So you can forget any juvenile crap about anything else, alright?"

"Is this female solidarity in action, then?"

Jack laughed before Sandra could respond. "I'd watch it if I were you, Gerry. Soon there'll be two of them around to bust your balls."

"Justifiably bust his balls," Sandra shot back quickly, rising from the sofa and walking towards her office, calling back over her shoulder, "Get your coat, Standing. We're off to Holloway Castle…"

"You take me to all the nicest places, Guv'nor…."

"…and on the way you can give me the background on Melanie Laplin; don't think you got away with dodging that one."

"Chance would be a fine thing."

"I'm still trying to trace the neighbours," Brian chimed in, his voice rising to address the Superintendent as she crossed the threshold to her domain. "I should have come up with a list by the time you get back."

"Good," Sandra replied, her torso now encased in her crisp military-style jacket as she re-emerged, flicking the ends of her sleek hair from her collar. "Let's go, Gerry."

With a mock salute, which caused his fellow ex-officers to chortle loudly, the former Sergeant followed his boss obediently from the room.

TBC