A/N: Updates might become a little slower, since something has just gone quite badly wrong and I'm not going to be at home very much, but I mostly write at night so I'm, not sure how much it will affect it.

Also, thank you for the lovely reviews for this so far!

Sarah x


He had it all planned out, though he was more nervous about the consequences than he let his friends see. As far as he let them know, Sandra Pullman didn't scare him anymore. She did scare him, of course, but it would be social suicide to admit that to Jack and Brian. But, when he walked in at nine on Friday morning, with the prospect of the set up ahead of him, he was dreading what he knew she was more than capable of subjecting him to.

But, he had a plan. Not one that would save his skin when the time came for Sandra to throw her toys out of the pram at him, but it would ensure she felt confident enough to actually stand on the stage. He knew how conscious Sandra was about her appearance, and he knew she would hate to stand in front of all those people dressed in her day clothes after making little to no effort – she wasn't to know she was to be prancing around the stage, was she?

So he pulled her aside, into her private office. "Listen," he told her, not allowing a single word escape her mouth. "Caitlin and Emily are having a girls' afternoon in today; Emily's taking her holidays before she loses them, and Caitlin got time off, too. They want you to go, too."

He studied her face and body language, to see if she was buying it. "And why would they want me there?" she demanded, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I might have let slip that you've been a bit worse for wear lately, and Emily knows how hard you work, and they think you deserve a bit of relaxation," he answered smoothly. "Don't worry, I didn't breathe a word about what that scumbag did to you. And the case is closed now, anyway, and Jack and Brian and me can finish the paperwork," he tried to persuade her. He left out the fact that it was one enormous set up, of course. It was too late to go back on it, any road, since he'd filled the form out, provided a backing track and forged her signature, letting on to the receptionist that she'd delegated the task of handing it in to him. He was dead, and he knew it.

"What are you up to?" she wondered aloud, although there was a hint of a warm, fond smile gracing her perfect lips.

"Nothing!" he insisted, making sure he sounded convincing. "We just think it's high time you let someone pamper you for a bit. And they love doing it. You know, the make up and hair and shoes and clothes and face masks and all that stuff."

She sat on her desk, and stared at him for a moment. He knew she was deliberating on whether she could force herself to leave work early, and whether she could trust her boys to cover for her if Strickland came around. And she seemed to be deliberating on whether she was actually in need of such a break. The answer to that was obvious, to anyone who had the misfortune to piss her off right now.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," she admitted. "When and where?" she sighed.

He handed her his spare key, and told her, "Let yourself in if they're not there yet. My place, two o'clock, they said. Help yourselves to whatever, but don't you dare get pissed. You still have that stupid music thing tonight, remember?" He had a feeling she could be tempted to to drown her sorrows, but she couldn't. Strickland wouldn't be impressed if she turned up drunk, or didn't go at all.

"Ugh," she groaned. "I'd forgotten about that." She looked at the key he pressed into her hand. "That's a lot of trust to put in someone you know is in a destructive mood," she remarked.

He grinned at her, momentarily thrown by the admission she wasn't in a good place right now. "I trust you. I'm actually more concerned that the girls will get make up and face cream all over my furniture," he added, and this time she returned his smile. This beam, though, was thoughtful and reflective, and he wasn't entirely sure what she was thinking. Mind you, he wasn't sure what she was thinking most of the time, anyway, so it wasn't anything new to him.

"What did I do to deserve you to come running when I need you?" she asked him softly.

"You're the best friend I could have asked for," he complimented her, and made a face at her when she feigned shock. "And right now, you need a good friend."

"And you are a good friend, Gerry," she assured him gently. He felt her hands on his chest, her left sliding upwards to the side of his neck. Just as well the door and blinds were shut, since Brian and Jack were sitting out there. In a heartbeat, he pulled her into his chest again, into a tight cuddle, realising she was not as over her experience as she let on. He realised she needed someone to comfort her who wouldn't take pity on her, because she didn't want that from anyone.

He grinned to himself, with his face buried in her hair yet again. Amelia and Paula had gone out with their dad's cash last night, and had bought a dress and heels for Sandra to wear tonight. He had a feeling the penny would drop at the very last moment, when there was nothing to be done but to bite the billet and get up there and sing.

At half-past six, when he finally got home, he found his daughters waiting outside the bathroom. "She's putting her new dress on," Emily whispered to the man she called her dad.

"She looks amazing, if I do say so myself," Caitlin added with somewhat of a smug smirk, before giving her sister a quiet high-five. Just then, out came Sandra, with her golden blonde hair twisted on one side and in a deliberately loose and messy bun at the back. A simple royal blue dress clung to her curves, revealing only just enough of her leg to make any man look twice at her, and a crossed back. He shoes were simple black high heels. Her make-up was simple, with light grey eyeshadow, black eyeliner and mascara, with pinkish-brown lipstick.

She was stunning.

"You look beautiful, Sandra," he told her sincerely, and she gave a wide smile. It had down the trick, then. His girls had made Sandra feel good about herself for the first time in weeks. Emily sprayed hairspray at Sandra's hair, and Caitlin held out a can of body spray.

"This stuff smells awesome," Caitlin reassured her when the can received a wary glare. So Sandra allowed the youngest woman to spray her all over with it.

Sandra looked at the clock on the landing and said to Gerry, "You'd better go and get changed, though I don't know what all the fuss over me is. It's not like I'm going on the stage or anything, is it?" she asked rhetorically. To this, Gerry merely shrugged his shoulders, and gave Caitlin and Emily a warning look in case they made her suspicious of their intentions.

In ten minutes, Gerry was ready and he was arguing with Sandra about whether to take both cars or if they should just take one and they could come back here. She gave in eventually and got in the passenger seat of Gerry's car. He knew she would because he was well aware that she didn't enjoy driving with insane shoes on, and she hated driving barefoot even more.

All too soon, they were at the hotel where the main hall had been rented for the night, and were sitting down with Jack and Brian, and Gerry realised just how deep this hole he'd dug for himself really was. The acts were brilliant, with bands and instrumentals and solo singers, and he was beginning to think Sandra was to close the show. And he was right enough, because, during what had been announced as the penultimate performance, Strickland came to get Sandra.

She gave him a confused glance, and he handed her a napkin with the words Kelly Clarkson – Because of You written on it. He'd come up with the idea after hearing it on the radio in her car, knowing she must know the words. He also knew it had to be personal to her, after all that had happened with her parents and all her disastrous relationships, so she would put her emotions into it. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?" she hissed at him. He just grinned at her as she stood up when Strickland chose to take her hand. She reluctantly followed her commanding officer.

She turned around briefly and pointed a finger at Gerry and growled at him an ominous threat he knew she may well follow through on, "You are a dead man walking, Gerry Standing."


Hope this is OK!

Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you thought!

Sarah x