Nell closed the door of the dishwasher and switched it on. She took a look at her brother, who was sitting at the kitchen table with what looked like the weight of the world on his shoulders. She walked over and held him. Hathaway said nothing and did nothing. He took in the comfort from his sister before gently standing up. He kissed his gratitude on her cheek before walking back down the corridor into the living room, not wanting to leave Caroline any longer than he had done already. Nell sighed heavily and glanced at Hathaway's phone, which was on the table. Hazel's name flashed up and she answered.

"Nell?" Hazel didn't expect to hear her voice.

"Hello, Stephen." Nell closed the kitchen door. "Are you looking for James?"

"Yes. Is he there? It's urgent."

"He can't come to the phone now, Stephen. Caroline is not well."

"How is she?"

Nell paused. "She will be okay," she replied not wanting to disclose. This was a family thing as far as she was concerned.

"All right. Nell, can you please get him to call me as soon as he can? I have information..." He was cut off abruptly by cheering and shouting. A look of amusement came over Nell's face.

"Are you at a party, Stephen?"

"Umm... Yeah. Kinda. Look, I've got to go. I'll call you, yeah? Sorry we haven't seen each other recently..."

"Whenever you can, Stephen." Nell's voice was almost calculating. "I will be here." She looked at the phone's screen as the call ended and placed it back on the table before opening the door. She heard Hathaway calling her and she ran down the corridor towards the living room.

Hazel decided to make his way back to the car, which was parked along with all the other vehicles in a neighbouring field. He was worried, and he felt like driving to Hathaway and Caroline's so he can report back on what he saw. He was only too glad to fling his fake sword and belt into the boot of his car along with his sash. Just as he was about to head to the driver's side, he jumped back in defence as he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"Gemma!" he exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

"Did you see what happened?" she asked.

"In the tent? More than enough!"

"What did the guv say?"

"He didn't answer. Nell did. Caroline's pretty bad."

"We've got to tell him!" Gemma insisted urgently. They looked towards the party in the distance, which seemed to be on the verge of drunk and disorderly.

"Let's go," Hazel said opening the car door.

"Yes, sarge." Gemma was only too happy to accompany him. She ran over to the passenger's side, Hazel reaching over to open the door for her.

The next morning, Gemma and Hazel, both back in smart attire, were waiting inside their side of the office for Hathaway to show. Once again, he was late. They were sitting on opposite sides: Hazel at the desk and Gemma near Hathaway's. She was looking out of the window. Hazel picked up his phone and began sorting through his pictures. Most was of his family and the dog, but when he came across some of Nell he paused, particularly at one he took in the back garden one evening. Her back was to him, but the sunlight had hit her blonde hair reflecting off it casting her in a beautiful glow. Hazel remembered that evening very well – along with what happened afterwards. His eyes rose to look at Gemma, his (he wished) little vision of beauty and intelligence. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the fire didn't occur. But, again, Hazel found himself assassinating his own character, that he thought less than what he deserved. She was too good for him, he thought. She deserved someone who can give and provide her more, like this Martin for instance. Hazel sighed and placed his phone back down on the table.

"He won't be in today." The familiar voice of Alannah got their attention. "He called me just now. He asks that whatever you found out last night to pursue it but go carefully." Gemma and Hazel looked at each other as Alannah departed.

"So, what now, sarge?"

"Let me think, Gemma." Hazel went into pensive mode. Gemma sat down in her seat beside him.

"I have my costume at home... I suppose I can meet you there?" Gemma looked at Hazel. "Sarge?"

"Yeah, sure, Gem." As Gemma left, Hazel thought about what he witnessed the night before and how this may not be a joke after all. He called Simon to let him know he was on his way and grabbed his suit jacket from behind his chair.

Caroline sat up on the sofa and blinked trying to get her bearings. Hathaway, slumped rather uncomfortably in the single chair nearby, stirred as he heard the shuffling. He opened his eyes and caught sight of Caroline looking at him. He sat up suddenly before groaning at the stiffness of his neck. He rubbed the back of it before grinning at Caroline, who had a slight smile on her lips. Hathaway stood up to sit beside her.

"Hello," he said playfully. He nudged her. Caroline smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Dunno," Caroline replied. She bowed her head. Hathaway discarded his initial plan.

"I had to do it, Caroline," he told her, the playful attitude ceasing from his features.

"I know..." Caroline didn't mean to cut him off. Hathaway shuffled closer and kissed her on the side of her head. "I don't want to ruin our big day because of this, Blue Eyes. I want us to get married. My issues can be left aside." Hathaway said nothing except hold her close. He once again played with her hair knowing there was more to come.

Simon stood up from what was Winston's table and smiled warmly at Gemma and Hazel, who walked inside. Gemma was in full costume and Hazel halfway there. He had a white T-shirt on with his grey trousers and his black boots. The braces that were attached to his trousers were hanging loosely at his sides, and he was holding his sword, belt and sash. The two undercover detectives stood near the table.

"Ricardo! Jennifer! You came back! So glad to see you!" He was obviously good at this. Gemma and Hazel smiled and nodded once in acknowledgement. "We missed you both last night! Lydia told me you weren't feeling well."

"No, Simon, I wasn't. Ricardo here drove me home." Simon stared at Hazel, the pleasant attitude disappearing from his features. Hazel just looked at him, meeting his stare. The tension suddenly rose. "He saw I wasn't feeling well," Gemma interjected. "He offered." Simon glanced at her and to her relief, he smiled.

"Well, as long as you are okay."

"Much better." She forced herself to smile. Simon nodded and sat back down.

"Rehearsals start in 10 minutes," he told them. "Where's your hat, Ricardo?"

"In the car..."

"Go and get it then! We can't have one of our officers underdressed." Simon's tone was dismissive. Gemma looked away as Hazel left, but not before he discreetly scratched her hand as a sign of luck. Gemma nearly blushed, but she managed to keep it at bay. She looked at Simon as he stood back up and felt uncomfortable as he walked towards her, standing behind her shoulder. Gemma could feel him and tried not to squirm as he gently glided his fingers across the back of her neck. He leaned in and paused.

"You're doing well," he whispered. He moved away. "Lydia is waiting for you," he suddenly said out loud. Gemma turned and saw him standing at the mouth of the tent ready to leave. "Rehearsals in 5 minutes." He walked out leaving Gemma shaking a little. She took a couple of deep breaths and left hurriedly.

Hazel raised his sword high above his head at an angle like he was an extra in Crouching Dragon. He stared hard at the opposite group of soldiers not far away in the distance and took a couple of deep breaths. He then screamed and charged forward, the rest of the soldiers behind him following him echoing his war cry. They were met by an even more aggressive and violent roar and the fighting began, clangs of metal, cries of the men and exaggerated groans of fake death echoing around them. Gemma walked out of a tent carrying a metal jug of what was presumably fruit squash masquerading as wine. Come the big day, the real stuff will be flowing. She placed the jug in the middle of a long wooden table. Lydia walked in with a tray full of metal plates and cutlery and settled it on another table towards the back of the tent. She turned to look at Gemma, who was pouring more of the purple squash from a plastic jug into another metal one.

"You all right, Jen?" she asked. Gemma didn't reply. Lydia called her name out again and Gemma realised she was calling her.

"Sorry, Lydia." Gemma smiled. "I was miles away."

"Is everything all right?" Lydia was kind and concerned. She walked over. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'm okay. Thank you, Lydia." Gemma was also kind in her response. She grinned at Lydia. "What do you think of Simon?" she asked. Lydia shrugged her shoulders.

"He is all right I guess," she replied. "I never really thought about it." She paused and a cheeky glint came over her eyes. "Do you like him?" She nudged her playfully. Gemma smiled. "You do, don't you?"

"I'm curious." Gemma began filling another jug. "Have you known him long?"

"A little," Lydia replied. "I haven't been at this re-enactment thing for very long, but yeah. He's okay."

"Fancies himself a bit, doesn't he?" Lydia laughed.

"Just a bit, yeah." She leaned in closer. "Still… He has a body underneath that costume." Gemma blushed and laughed.

"Is he seeing anyone?" Gemma looked at Lydia and noticed her backing off slightly.

"Where is Kirsty?" she suddenly asked turning her head to the mouth of the tent.

"I haven't seen her. Not since last night." Gemma took note of Lydia's body language and placed the plastic jug on the table. "Lydia?" she asked a little worriedly. "Are you all right?" She was taken aback at how pale her fellow wench was.

"I've got to take these outside." Lydia rushed over to pick up her tray. "You'd best get those jugs on the table quickish. It looks like rehearsals are over for now." She disappeared outside leaving Gemma to contemplate on the answers, or lack thereof. She picked up a couple of metal jugs and followed her out.

Caroline walked into the bedroom wearing a bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. Hathaway was sitting on the edge of the bed facing the door. He looked up as she appeared and smiled. Caroline forced herself to as she took off her bathrobe to reveal the cutest pyjamas. Hathaway took one look and laughed quietly.

"Sheep?" he asked in amusement. Caroline said nothing as she started drying her hair with the towel. "Come here. Sit down." Caroline did as instructed with her back to him. Hathaway took the towel from her and began massaging her head with it, drying her hair. He placed that on his lap and leaned over to pick up a hairbrush that was lying on the side table. Caroline watched through the reflection in the mirror of the dressing table as Hathaway began gently brushing her hair. She thought about many a thing, mostly about recent events, and still counted herself lucky she had someone like Hathaway in her life – still supportive and understanding. She loved him to pieces and did not want to hurt him any longer. Most lads would have done a runner a long time ago, and although Hathaway did before, he proved himself to her by staying when it really mattered. Hathaway caught her gaze through the reflection and they held it for a while. They both noticed the love they had for each other, the affection, the understanding – but also the hurt, the pain, the anguish. Caroline broke away by bowing her head. Hathaway set the brush on the bed along with the towel and stood up, crouching down in front of her. He took her hand and kissed it, the gentle touch of his lips making Caroline look up. She gently caressed his face and the loose strands of his blond hair from his forehead.

"Thank you," she told him.

"No need. You know I will never leave you."

"I know." Caroline felt heavy again. "I still don't understand… Why? How…?"

"Don't go over it, Caroline." Hathaway's voice was gentle, soft.

"But, Blue Eyes…"

"Ssh…" Again, his voice calmed her. He stood up to kiss her meaningfully on her forehead. "We have a wedding to plan." He smiled at her. Caroline stood up and Hathaway held her. He looked downwards as Caroline looked up at him.

"I love you so much!" she told him. Hathaway just smiled and kissed her his reply. "Does that include these pyjamas?" Hathaway smiled again before walking over to take the hairdryer out from a drawer placing it on the dressing table.

"I'll bring the laptop up," he told her before leaving. Caroline watched as he left and sighed heavily. She looked at herself in the mirror and began questioning herself again – this time with good reason.

The soldiers and the knights sat down at the tables and straight away made a beeline for the food in the middle. Loads of chatter filled the air as they all ate hungrily, guzzling down the fake wine just as quickly. Simon walked past a few tables watching each person carefully. He wanted to make sure everyone was okay. It wasn't long now until the big performance, and things still were not perfect. But, that could easily be rectified the more they rehearsed. He caught sight of Hazel having a joke with a few other soldiers and was satisfied having made the right decision for him to lead the charge, so to speak. His thoughts turned to the wenches and he watched as they kept coming out of the tent carrying various items. He also took note at how exhausted some of them looked and wondered whether they were either up to the job or whether they needed speaking to. He then saw Gemma walking back inside with an empty jug and decided to follow her. Hazel though spotted it a mile off but knew he couldn't do anything except hope he wouldn't try anything. The calls of his name caught his attention and he smiled at a fellow soldier as he refilled his goblet.

Gemma quickly refilled the jugs with the fruit cordial before she placed the plastic ones underneath the table. She licked some residue from her thumb. She turned only to nearly scream in fright as she saw the amused Simon standing in front of her.

"You trying to ruin my dress?" she asked jokingly as she made a move to leave. Simon though intentionally blocked her path. "Simon, come on!" Gemma tried to make a joke of it and tried again, but still Simon blocked her from going further.

"Gemma," he said to her in a low voice, more because they were on their own. "You look nice with blonde hair." Gemma tried to put on a brave front.

"Simon…"

"Is it Stephen?" Simon asked sounding offended. "Are you shagging him?"

"What business is that of yours?" Gemma asked. Simon forcefully pushed her to the side of the table. "Simon! This is wholly inappropriate…!"

"Who says? I am in charge now."

"I was told Winston instructed you not to touch us…"

"Well, he is not here, is he?!" Simon's tone was extremely irritated. He took a deep breath knowing he overstepped the mark and smiled. Gemma, although scared out of her wits at the possibility of knowing what Simon had in mind, decided to grasp the opportunity for more information.

"You didn't like him, did you?" She relaxed slightly allowing Simon to press himself against her more easily.

"As I told you, he was a good bloke." He was now literally on top of her. Gemma found herself lying halfway across the table. He gazed into her eyes. "You have the most amazing eyes, Gemma. Has anyone told you that?"

"No…" Gemma tried to hide her disgust at how he was acting. "Do I?"

"They're beautiful," he said studying them. His eyes wandered towards her cleavage and then back up to her eyes. "I thought Winston was stupid not to. He had so many opportunities."

"Oh, yeah?" Gemma decided against asking directly. Her voice was slightly flirtatious. "Wasn't that way inclined?"

"Oh, he was! Very much so."

"But, not like you?" Simon grinned. Gemma smiled. She remembered what Lydia told her before and used it by eyeing up his body. Simon got off on that thrill.

"Not like me," he replied, leaning in close. So close that his lips were brushing her cheek. He stopped and looked into her eyes before leaving. Gemma took deep breaths and held her chest for a while. Never had she been so scared in her life, never mind her career. She stood up and straightened her costume before turning and leaning her hands on the edge of the table, her head down.

"Gem?" It was a familiar voice, a kind voice. A voice that was so appealing, it made her look round. Hazel was standing there with a look of concern, of worry. "Gemma? What happened?"

"Nothing." She smiled. "Did you find out anything?"

"Not yet. But, it seems no one is prepared to talk about him."

"I'm getting that same impression." She still was shaking and in shock. Hazel touched her arm.

"Gemma… Hey." His voice was soft, near to a whisper.

"I need to take these outside." She smiled and turned to pick up the jugs before leaving.

Evening came over the camp. The moon shone over the clearing and the tents. The players had long ago left leaving an unfamiliar and unusual silence. In one tent, however, there was a light shining from within. Simon was busy jotting down some notes having spent the rest of the day either watching and guiding the players or joining in himself. He still wasn't overly happy with how it was progressing, and although time was slowly petering out, he knew he still had enough to fix things to a reasonable standard. He was impressed with how Stephen Hazel had slotted in so well and how the role he bestowed upon him fitted him like it was second nature. He was most impressed with Gemma though. He grinned thinking about a very good opportunity, that he could break into that tough exterior she constantly displayed. He wanted her – and his arrogance told him he could have her. He looked up suddenly as he heard some movement ahead of him and he smiled.

"Why, hello," he said standing up as the figure approached him. "I knew you'd come." He walked around the side of the table coming to a halt not far ahead. He put his hand out, the smile on his face becoming smarmy as he leaned over to a candle nearby blowing it out.

Hathaway walked down the stairs the next morning a lot brighter and with a slight spring in his step. He was dressed smartly with his jacket slung over his shoulder. Caroline was sitting at the kitchen table, her laptop in front of her, with her many Academy papers strewn in messy piles on either side. She looked up with a smile as Hathaway walked in, pausing to give her a kiss before fixing himself a mug of coffee. He grabbed a piece of sliced white bloomer, already with strawberry jam spread all over, and turned to watch her as she was sorting out her things. Although she was still in her pyjamas with her hair all over the place, he was still proud and secretly pleased and relieved she was doing her best to keep her mind occupied. They had discussed more about their wedding, even circling dates on which to visit the venue before their urges took over. He glanced at the calendar then back at her before gulping down the remainder of his coffee. He walked over to Caroline and gave her a kiss whilst still holding the bread slice in his right hand.

"Strawberry," she remarked with a smile.

"Apricot," Hathaway replied kissing her again. He gazed into her eyes before making a move to leave. He placed the bread into his mouth, holding it between his teeth before grabbing his jacket which he had slung on a chair.

"Stay safe, Blue Eyes!" she called out to him as Hathaway was about to open the front door. "Love you!"

Hathaway turned and smiled before leaving. Caroline stared at the empty corridor and sighed heavily. Her eyes fell and she gently lifted the side of her pyjama top where a newly fresh scar was visible going down her hip towards her thigh. Caroline winced feeling the sting before letting go and getting back to her work.

Alannah stood up upon seeing Hathaway as he walked in. The look on her face said it all, which got Hathaway's back up. He took the piece of paper that was handed to him, the same expression coming over his features.

"When did this arrive?" he asked her walking over to a nearby desk.

"I found it here this morning," Alannah replied standing by the desk. "It could have arrived at anytime. No one knows when."

"Why am I not surprised?" Hathaway looked up at her only to get a shake of the head in return.

"Clean," Alannah replied. "Envelope, everything."

"Type face?"

"Bog standard. Nothing that stands out. I could get Fraise to try."

"Have they been let back in?"

"No. He is at another station. They all are."

"Great!" That just made Hathaway's morning. He looked at what was written on the paper again. It wasn't a ransom note. It wasn't even threatening. Just what was written was enough to set the alarm bells ringing. Was there a hint between the lines? A clue? "What do you know about her?" he asked.

"Bright? Not much really. All I know is her grandfather-in-law served here back in the Sixties, but that's about it."

"Where did he serve?"

"Cowley." Alannah watched as Hathaway picked up the phone in front of him and dialled. "This is Inspector James Hathaway from Oxford City," he began knowing he sounded brash. "I wonder if I can speak to the person in charge?" He stopped as he was put on hold. Alannah sat down in the seat next to him wondering what he had in mind. "Yes, good morning! My name is Detective Inspector James Hathaway... Yes, the very one..." He rolled his eyes. Alannah grinned. "Robbie? He is fine, thank you. Yes... New Zealand... I am sure it is much better than here." Alannah could tell he was getting irritated and looked away. "I was wondering if you could help me. I am looking for information on one of your past Chief Supers... Yes, his name is Reginald Bright." Alannah quickly gave him her notebook and a pen. She watched as Hathaway scribbled down notes. "My colleague and I are investigating our Super's whereabouts. She has gone missing... Her name is Jyoti Bright, although she can go under the name of Sonia." Alannah found it strange but took note of the way Hathaway was trying to control his amusement. His expression turned serious suddenly. "We can be there in about half-an hour? Thank you." He hung up and looked at Alannah. "Let's go!" He stood up to leave. Alannah grabbed her parka and followed him.

"Your reputation precedes you," she told him as they walked towards the short distance to the exit. Hathaway said nothing as he pointed to remote towards his car.

"Get in, Davenport," he told her. Alannah grinned as she did. Hathaway smiled in amusement as he opened the car door. "What can I say?" he said modestly as he strapped himself in.

"Hopefully, not too much." Alannah looked away trying not to laugh. Hathaway chuckled as he turned the ignition and drove.

The two detectives walked through the entrance at Cowley and were immediately directed upstairs. A fairly young looking guy with brown hair and brown eyes greeted them with a smile and firm handshake.

"DI Adrian Kershaw. Pleased to meet you both."

"DI James Hathaway, and this is DI Alannah Davenport." Hathaway and Alannah followed Kershaw in. They were gestured to two seats in front of a rather tidy looking desk and both obliged. Kershaw took a rather plump file from a table nearby and handed it over to Hathaway.

"This is what there was available," he explained taking his seat opposite them. "As you can see, he had a fairly good tenure here." Both Hathaway and Alannah began looking through the papers. There was indeed a lot to go through. "What exactly are you looking for? You said his granddaughter-in-law has gone missing?"

"Yes," Alannah replied. "It was her car that caught fire."

"Yes, we heard about that. An explosion wasn't it?" The looks on the detectives' faces gave Kershaw his answer. Hathaway's attentions turned to the office and the walls and shelves around him. Kershaw's office was quite small, but spacious with white washed walls and a few small shelves by the walls filled with various books. He noticed a few framed pictures on the walls along with a few well tended pot plants that were on the window sills. Something however caught his eye and he passed over the file to Alannah before standing up and walking towards it. Kershaw knew which direction he was walking towards. "I helped him solve one case," he said. "He was quite a character. He was in hospital at the time. He was quite a grouch, but I learned a lot." Hathaway's eyes were drawn to the framed picture of the silver haired, blue-eyed man. He stared long and hard at him, the expression on his face, although hard and strict looking, carried a type of kindness that was kept well hidden. The look in his eyes carried a lot of sorrow, like his past had shaped his future. Hathaway then remembered Lewis and his tales of serving under Morse and how he passed on what he learned from him. His eyes then fell to the bookshelf and in particular a novel. Kershaw smiled at Alannah who turned her head to look at Hathaway. "The Oxford Canal Murders." Kershaw stood up and walked over. He took the book from the shelf and gave it to him. "That was what I helped Morse with. He was determined to solve it, that what happened to that poor woman was a travesty. He wanted to do her memory justice. I had only just got out of university then." He saw the look on Hathaway's face. "Take it," he told him. "Have a read. You will find it just as fascinating." Kershaw walked back to his desk. "That is about as much information as I could get my hands on at short notice," he said about the file. "If you need more, give me a call." Hathaway was brought back down to Earth and nodded. He and Alannah thanked Kershaw and left.

"Are you all right, James?" Alannah asked as they walked into the station car park. But, Hathaway didn't reply as he got in. Alannah sighed and opened the passenger's side. She knew not to pry as she slammed the door shut.