A/N: It's been a while for this story, so please enjoy the longest chapter yet (5678 words)!

Six

It had been a week since the Trion Incident and things seemed to be going fairly normally at Mainframe UK. People still showed up to work, did their jobs, sometimes meddled with others' jobs, and nothing unusual for UNIT was going on. Everything was fairly normal, and it made Malcolm a bit on-edge. Kate had appeared to be distancing herself from him, going back to only using his surname despite the fact they had played Bond together all the way down to sharing a bed. Okay, so the bed-sharing involved a lot less shagging than what Roger Moore got up to on film, but the two of them had still slept on the same mattress using the same bedding at the same time, which he'd think that there would be some sort of verbal acknowledgement. Things were instead the same as ever, only serving to dishearten the spin master, something that he attempted to shield from his personal assistant and his niece alike.

Walking into work one day with a takeaway coffee in his hand, Malcolm scowled his way through security and glowered towards his office. The molemen seemed like they were doing an acceptable job at a quick glance so he didn't bother to check in with anyone else. He walked right past Aparajita and sat down at his desk, immediately getting to work.

"Uh, Malcolm?" Aparajita wondered, poking her head in the room. Her dark brows were furrowed in concern. "I've got that write-up you wanted Husak to compose."

"Sounds good," he replied dully. She frowned at that, not liking his tone.

"Shaw shat on the rug this morning."

"Good for him."

Aparajita rolled her eyes and plucked the manila folder containing Husak's write-up, carrying it over to Malcolm's desk. She plopped it right on his keyboard and left before he could protest, returning to her alcove of the office. Just before she sat down, however, the lift doors opened and Kate's son Gordon popped out looking very nervous.

"Uh, hi," he mumbled anxiously. He stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Corporal Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, and I'm starting tomorrow as an assistant to the Head of Mainframe Security." Aparajita shook his hand and chuckled in amusement.

"Don't play dumb with me, kid; I know you're Director Stewart's son," she replied. They'd met over the phone, but this was the first time they'd seen one another in-person. "You just want to be treated like everyone else, right?"

"Yeah," he admitted. He leaned over and peered inside the main office, staring at Malcolm tapping away on his computer. "Is Mister Tucker available, or is he busy? I wanted to meet him, since we'll be working together at times."

"He shouldn't be busy enough to meet you." She turned her head so that she could see her boss and whistled sharply. "Hey, Malcolm, we've got a newbie running around introducing himself; come on over and play nice."

"I'm busy," he grumbled.

"How about if you get your pasty arse over here or I'm bringing him in there."

"You don't know how pasty my arse is."

"Oops, my mistake—that was your face," she deadpanned. Malcolm stood and stomped over towards his assistant and the new guy, sticking out his hand.

"Tucker, Public Relations."

"I'm Gordon, Director Stewart's son. I just transferred over from the RAF this week to work security detail—better than being a mall cop." He laughed nervously, attempting to gauge the grey, sour-looking man before him. "Mum… um… talks about you…"

"Does she now?" he wondered, attempting to hide his interest.

"Yeah; I was at home on leave during the whole Rutan incident you handled while she was down with that bug and she spoke favorably of you," the younger man said. "I still can't believe she and an Osgood had to break you out of prison."

"That's only 'cause your mam knows talent when she sees it," he preened. Malcolm frowned as Aparajita let out a snorting giggle, returning to her desk. "Anyhow, I didn't think Kate was into nepotism, unless this is something else…"

"Consider UNIT something along the lines of the family business," Gordon admitted. "I was able to transfer in on my own, and I'm going to keep this job on my own. Mum's going to have nothing to do with it, hence Security."

Looking at the young man before him, Malcolm considered him. He seemed too baby-faced and fresh to be much older than his niece, if he was that old at all, and wondered how he would keep a job in security of all things. "What were you in the RAF? Desk clerk? Recruiting officer?"

"Corporal—kept my rank on the transfer, sir."

"Save the sirs for the bleeding exercises; I'm Malcolm." He turned around and began the walk back to his desk.

"Thanks for letting Mum stay over last week," Gordon said. His words made Malcolm freeze in the middle of the room, looking back at him. "I get sort of worried when she's out late on UNIT work and knowing she had your guest room the other day was a relief."

"Yeah… no problem," Malcolm said quickly, attempting to brush it off. Kate had lied to her kid; worse yet, she had a kid that was old enough to be their coworker, which could definitely complicate things. "It was getting too late and I've done the commute shit before, so I know what it's like to get home only to turn around to go back. Fucking sucks."

"Still really nice of you; thanks Malcolm," he repeated. Gordon then went back towards the lift, waving cordially at Aparajita. "Ms. Khan."

"RAF Reject," she replied with a smirk. She finished what she was typing and rolled her chair so that she could see Malcolm, a grin plastered on her face. "You had just moved in Lex—Director Stewart couldn't have had your guest room."

"I slept on the couch," he stated.

"I don't believe you." She stared at him, trying to figure him out. "What did your niece say to you bringing your boss home the first night she was there, the two of you dressed in a tux and a gown?"

"Nothing—she didn't even know Director Stewart was there."

"Gotcha," Aparajita said, clapping her hands together and pointing at Malcolm. "Either you two got drunk and slept together, or there's something else that happened you don't want to admit."

"I had a drink that night to be polite and blend in, which is more than I should have had, and she didn't have much either," he scowled. "Why are you being so fucking nosy?"

"…because it's my business to know if my direct boss is sleeping with, and-or wants to sleep with, his direct boss," she replied. "Didn't your old PA get to know all your dirty little secrets?"

"My old PA actually predicted and blocked many dirty little secrets from even happening," he said. "Not knocking any of your ability, since having you helping me is like a fucking dream, but she was Super Assistant, partly because we were a team for so long."

"You have to be in order to manage a guy like you," she scoffed through a laugh. "So tell me: do you want to shag Director Stewart, or do you want to shag Director Stewart? Alternative answer is: you want to shag Gordon's mum, who is, funnily enough, Director Stewart."

"Yeah, I want to shag her, though I thought her kids were too young to work here," he admitted.

"What, hoping some primary schooler would want to call you Dad?"

"Nah; that ship has long-sailed and got caught up and sunk in some Bermuda Triangle shit. I'm a better long-distance uncle than a father and always have been."

"Oh, you don't know that," she chuckled.

"No Rajit, I think I do," he said. "Hey, this doesn't leave the office, yeah? This stays between the two of us—none of this gets out unless it's abso-fucking-lutely necessary."

"Don't worry; I've got your back," she smirked. Rolling out of sight, she went behind her desk again and returned to her work. "Just remember who you're making eyes at; Director Stewart isn't the kind of woman to simply take unwanted advances demurely."

"It's something I've considered," he replied. Malcolm smiled privately as he opened up the folder and looked over Husak's write-up. Had it not been for the week prior, he wouldn't even be considering it. Now…? He was at least hopeful.

Gathering up his courage, Malcolm paced around his office in an attempt to calm himself down. There hadn't been much for him to focus on that day, meaning that he had way too much time to think and overthink the woman whose office was above his—the woman he admittedly wanted to get to know better on a personal level. He'd gone into similar relationships before, where he and a woman were contractually obligated to occupy similar buildings for at least eight hours a day, but many of them had ended badly and he wanted to make sure he was sure he wanted this.

Now that he thought about it, some of them ended more than badly, down to the point that he could say some of them had been right fucked. One had even gone as far as her moving into his house with him, despite their lack of true compatibility. Later on, after a crazy year of being cheated on and even divorce papers because yes, he had been that brain-dead-stupid, he had glanced around his home and knew the only thing he had wanted for a long time afterward would be a companion. It had been difficult to take the ring off—sentimental bullshit that actually made things a mite easier on the hobnobbing front—but once he did a weight lifted from his chest and shoulders. He had always been of the mindset that personal relationships were never supposed to be a burden, never a stone to drag around every fucking minute of every sodding day. Friendships, dating, even marriage if things went that far, was all supposed to be a support beam for a person, so he didn't want to overcomplicate what he already had. Malcolm had his freedom, his job, his flat, his family… did he really want more?

Yes. Yes he did. Malcolm thought about Kate and her intense composure and power when it came to things so fucking ridiculous it made cheap sci-fi seem same. It sent something through him, and he wanted to feel more of it. The way it felt having her in the same bed as him the week before had been nice… better than nice, truth be told. It was so rare for him to find someone who was intelligent, competent, dangerous, and unattached, that the opportunity was one he couldn't pass. Okay, so she had a kid that now worked in Security, but that office was on the other side of the compound. She didn't wear a ring and had talked about custody procedures—Kate was as single of a woman as they came. That green whelp from earlier didn't need a da, since he probably was still in contact with his real one, so it was safe.

If she spurned him, so be it. At least he'd be able to say he tried.

"Hey, Rajit, I need to talk with Director Stewart for a tic; I'll be there in case of an emergency," he said, walking by his PA.

"What level of emergency are we talking here?" she wondered.

"Invasion-levels—fuckall to everything else," he replied, entering the lift and hitting the button. She affirmed as the doors closed and a moment later Malcolm found himself staring at Kate's PA. "Director in?"

"She is," the young woman answered. "Is she expecting you?"

"Nah; just thought I'd pop in for a quick face-to-face chat," he said. Malcolm put his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet, trying to keep his cool. There was no use in cussing out this one, since she was nearly on the same level as Aparajita and Sam as far as competence as far as competence was concerned. "She busy?"

"Not sure… let me double-check," she said. The assistant stood and vanished behind the door leading into Kate's office, staying there momentarily before popping back out again. "She can spare a minute."

"Thanks Morton." He slipped in through the open door, shutting it quietly behind her. Malcolm could see Kate sitting at her desk, glancing over a dossier as she slowly munched on a sandwich.

"You wanted to talk about something?" she asked, flipping over a page. He found a chair and placed it next to her desk, almost so that it was right next to hers, and sat down.

"If it's alright, I want to talk to you about last week—"

"There's nothing to talk about." She put down her sandwich and locked her gaze with his. "We were doing what we had to do."

"…except you didn't have to accept my invitation and we both fucking know it," he mentioned. "Kate, love, do you want to try something or am I grasping at straws here?"

She stayed silent for a while, turning her eyes back to the papers in front of her. "I don't think you are, but I don't know what precisely you're grasping at. We aren't kids anymore and there's shit to get done."

"…but you've felt it too, yeah? I mean, I knew I liked you and that we'd get along from the moment you broke me out, but there's more than that… fucking hell there's more than that on my end, and I wanted to check to make sure it wasn't just me."

"We can't, Malcolm," Kate said. "Even if we both want it, there's too much to do."

"There are worse things than to work alongside the one you're shagging," he reasoned. The sound of her saying his given name while at the office was exhilarating… moreso than he'd like to admit. "Worst is we'd get interrupted by some piece of shit alien invasion, which is frankly what would happen even if we were with other people, and we'd discuss policies as our pillow talk."

"Is that really what you want?" she questioned. "This isn't something to take lightly."

"You read my dossier—you know about how short my marriage was, but I've read it too and it says fuck-all about why it was as abrupt as it was," he said, voice low. Malcolm held out his hand, glad that it was both behind the desk and too far from the window for anyone in the atrium to see. "If I took something like this lightly, then I'd be a very different person than I am now. I don't fuck around… not on the things that really matter."

Kate stared at his hand before taking it. "I'm not sure," she muttered. "I can see myself with you, but… I'm not sure if it's appropriate."

"Fuck appropriateness, love," he scoffed lightly, running his thumb over hers. "I think we're adult enough to know that we can disagree and call one another out here and still go to bed together on our own time. It's called our jobs."

"Can you give me some time?" she asked. "It'd be nice to be with someone again, but…"

"No, take your time," he offered. He lifted up her hand and kissed her fingers, hoping to spark a reaction whether it be good or bad. All he got was a slow blink before she carefully took her hand back. He was about to reach out to touch her hair when his mobile rang, shattering the moment into tiny shards all over the floor. Swiping the call through, he scowled as he answered. "The fuck, Rajit? This better be good considering I'm literally a floor above you."

"You still with Director Stewart?" she asked. Her voice was panicky, making his frown go from irritated to worried.

"Yeah; what's the matter?"

"Put me on speaker, please," she requested. He did, placing the mobile down on the desk.

"Okay, you're on."

"We just got word in that there's a junior minister that's threatening to completely defund UNIT from both the United Kingdom and United Nations' pocketbooks, as well as run us into the ground for being a bunch of tin foiled-hatted nutbags."

"…to be fair, that is what we are," Kate said. "What makes this threat any more credible than others?"

"This man's grandfather was in the British Army during the Operation Golden Age Incident," Aparajita explained. "He has enough insider knowledge to take down everyone."

Kate's face when pale at that news. She leaned back in her chair and stared into nothingness, focusing on her breathing.

"Kate? What's that mean?" Malcolm asked, not liking her reaction. "Rajit, what's this all about?"

"There was a big uproar in the mid-Seventies that caused the evacuation of all Central London; do you remember?"

"Kiddo, I was too worried about acne, passing my fucking exams, and me Mam finding the skin mag collection in the wardrobe in the mid-Seventies to concern myself with the shit going on down here," he said. "Save the details and give me the gist."

"General Finch told his grandson incriminating stories that pegs a Shoreditch politician, Director Stewart's father, the Doctor, one of the premier investigative journalists of the past forty years, and Captain Benton for direct roles in an event that brought dinosaurs to London… not to mention all of the other things we've had to do in the past."

"…and something tells me I don't want to hear any of it," he frowned, scratching his chin. "Finch, you said? Victor Finch?"

"That's the one," she said. "His grandfather was part of the scandal, but the story he just forwarded to me completely clears him of any blame whatsoever. The man is serious."

"Then we have to make sure we take him down before he can act," Kate decided resolutely. "Malcolm, you know this Finch?"

"Had a couple run-ins with him over the years; cocky, but an effective lawmaker."

"Then we need to go now," she replied. "Morton? Cancel the four o'clock, please; Tucker and I have got to make sure we keep the shop in business."

"Yes, ma'am," her PA answered from her desk. She came in and brought Kate some folders, which she immediately began to go through.

Malcolm picked up his mobile as he stood, turning off the speaker and putting the device to his ear. "Okay, Rajit, we're off. Keep me informed of what's going on. Text me anything that might help."

"Okay, I'll try," she replied. There was an awkward silence before she continued. "Daadaajee was mixed up in that mess, since UNIT was how my mum's family came to the UK. He's old-guard, Malcolm; any whiff of his name attached to a scandal and his heart won't take it."

"Don't worry—none of us are getting fucked for this. That's your granddad, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The old coot won't go down because of this, I can guarantee it. Talk to you later." Malcolm hung up the mobile and stuffed it in his pocket as he followed Kate to the lift. He stayed quiet as they power-walked through the compound and entered the chauffeured car. Once it was certain that the driver couldn't hear them, he cussed grouchily.

"Cursing now won't solve anything, Tucker," Kate stated. Fuck, she was back to his surname.

"Aparajita's worried about her granddad," he said. "In fact, I'm beginning to think that this place is a whole hell of a lot more a family business than is let on."

"…what?" she wondered.

"I met Gordon today—he introduced himself since he's going to work down in Security. Your son, you, and your da worked at Mainframe UK; Aparajita and her granddad; I've heard a Scarfy mention her Uncle William… what have you declined to tell me?"

"Nothing major," she replied coldly. "Mainframe UK has employed multiple generations of families because UNIT recruits where there is the best potential. Sometimes it's because someone is open-minded to the universe, or because they have encountered some of the species we deal with, but there are times when an individual's family background is enough to help them in. Trust me, Tucker: I'd much rather have Gordon become a maths teacher in the countryside than work with us, but it's what he chose."

"Then who are those other people Rajit was mentioning?" he asked. "A politician? A journalist? Shit… I don't even know who your da is, so part of me is just lucky I know Benton." He thought back to the month before when he was introduced to a wrinkly old man who seemed like there was more to him behind his white hair and crisp military kit.

"One of the councilmen in Shoreditch, Yates, is an old UNIT member from back when my father and Captain Benton were still serving," she explained. "The journalist is Sarah Jane Smith, who was just starting out when she was roped into the mess. She's been tied with the Doctor and UNIT ever since."

"Sarah Jane Smith? Marcia loathes her; same age. I think they got into a spat once."

"Knowing Miss Smith, it wouldn't surprise me. My father, well… remind me another time." The car stopped in front of Number 10 and the two passengers got out.

"Mick, hey, good to see you!" Malcolm immediately grinned, walking up to the door guard. They shook hands like old friends. "Been a while; how's Wee Lily? Started Grade One by now, yeah?"

"Yeah, can barely keep track of her," the guard beamed. "You have an appointment?"

"Yes and no; I'm with the UN now and my boss and I need to speak with MP Finch."

"Oh, that mess about funding? Heard about that earlier when some aides were going by." Mick hit a button on the side of his radio and the door opened from the inside. "Give 'em Hell."

"You know it." Malcolm escorted Kate inside and took a deep breath. This was it; he was in his natural habitat after being told he'd never need set foot in the building again. The cunts were wrong.

"The two of you sure were chummy," his coworker said as they navigated the building. Every now and then someone would stop and stare at them, whispering about their worst nightmare having risen from the grave.

"I'm not a fan of treating guys like Mick poorly—they're the ones who help run the place," he replied. "When you think about it, it's better to be nice than pretend they're not there, let alone be rude, because that's the kind of shit that made the aristocracy crumble upon themselves, when it wasn't due to fucking inbreeding and being complete twats."

"Somehow your enthusiasm doesn't surprise me," she deadpanned. They reached Finch's office and found it unguarded by any sort of secretary or personal assistant of any kind. This gave Malcolm the freedom to barge on into the office, slamming the door open and making Finch jump. He was a small-ish, almost scraggly sort of man with a permanent frown on his face.

"I'll have to call you back; riffraff found the office," he said into the desk phone before hanging it up. He then glared at his visitors, clearly perturbed at their presence. "Well now, I never thought I'd see the likes of you in here again, Tucker. Even with good behavior I imagine the next time you'd breathe free air would be in 2038."

"Save the formalities, Finch. I'm here under the command of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce," Malcolm snapped. "You have been unfairly pressuring us into bending over and asking for more; now why is that? What sort of beef do you have that warrants complete defunding and mockery?"

"…because you are the United Nations, not the United Kingdom," the junior minister replied dryly. "You and your lot have been eating up all of Her Majesty's precious funds for too long with nothing to show for it. We could be using that money to keep Britain safe, instead of pouring it into whatever hijinks you like to pull. Then there's the United Nations front, which I'm sure is absolutely ecstatic that their precious budget is being used for gallivanting about, poking at meteors and downed weather balloons or whatever it was you deployed troops to Caistor for."

"We're keeping the entire fucking world safe, and you'd know that if you looked at the reports we've given in compliance of transparency laws," Malcolm snarled. Kate put a hand on his upper arm and gently pulled him away from the desk.

"Save it for someone who's worth it," she said. He immediately backed down, his lip still curled into a sneer. The mobile in his pocket buzzed—Aparajita, with good news.

"I didn't think you took orders anymore, now that you bit Murray on the tit like the rabid dog you are, or were you neutered while penned up in D Cat," Finch snickered. Kate set her glare and took a step forward, staring the junior minister down.

"If I were you, I'd watch my tongue," she warned him. "I do have express permission from both the Queen and the UN Secretary-General to do whatever I see fit to keep this planet from being destroyed at any moment. If you don't like it, you can either shut up, or you can land on my list of terrestrial belligerents."

"Instead of what? Being on the list of extraterrestrial belligerents?" Finch stopped at saw that neither of his guests' faces had changed in severity, causing him to laugh nervously. "Wait a second… you can't seriously say that you're preventing an invasion of space-aliens?! Tucker, what sort of drugs did they pump into you?"

"The truth," he replied quietly, sliding the mobile back in his pocket. "Now I understand the reason of why I needed to make up stories at certain times while the PM's Director of Communications—if the public knew the truth it would be mass fucking hysteria, and every cunt that can weasel alien tech into their hands would be the next supervillain splashed across the tabloids because they're trying to do good and cocked it all up."

"God, you are serious…" Finch marveled. He pushed his chair back and tensed, as if he needed to dash out of the room at a second's notice. "I wonder how it will go over when I tell everyone else that the PM's pet project is actually a bunch of loonies, not just people we don't like."

"Correction: the PM is our pet project. We were first, after all," Kate replied coldly. The fax machine on a table began spitting out paper, a page of which she took and placed it on the desk. "The overall goal of UNIT is to keep Earth safe, as well as competitive. Few interstellar communities are able to be completely transparent with their citizens and not risk either havoc or looking like asylum escapees, and unfortunately we're not one of them. By the end of the day you are going to retract your statement about cracking down on our spending habits and never mention a word of this ever again."

"What makes you think that?" Finch asked. He glanced quickly at the paper, then back up at Kate. "Is that the statement?"

"Your formal redaction as well as an apologetic resignation to make amends for causing such a benign and worthy group such hassle," she explained. Finch's eyes went wide and he stood up defensively.

"You can't do that!"

"I already have," Kate said.

"Just go down graciously," Malcolm advised. "I've helped along a number of resignations, and the best thing to do is just go by the script."

"You can't bully me—you can't touch me!"

"Oh, I'm worse than a bully … far worse than I've ever been in my life," Malcolm warned. "I'm her guard dog, and I'm glad for it. Just take the little speech I wrote for you and go out to meet the press. They should be here right about now."

Finch blinked, unsure of what to do, before storming over to his window and looking down onto the street. Sure enough, there were press hounds standing there, waiting for someone to come out the door, and chances are it was him they were waiting for.

"I'm not going to go down quietly," he hissed. "Once I get all the dirt on you two, it's going to be everywhere that you're just a bunch of X-Files nutbags. We already have CCTV of this meeting."

"Those cameras haven't worked since the Thatcher administration; most of the replacements are just props to cut costs," Malcolm scoffed. He pointed at the camera in the corner of the office with a shit-eating grin. "Ever take a good look? Not even plugged in."

Finch narrowed his eyes as he peered at the device. To his horror, the little light in the corner of the box wasn't lit and there was no cord connecting it to anything. His nostrils flared in anger as he snatched the paper from the desk and stormed out the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Looks like that's that," Malcolm chuckled. He looked at Kate, who was still in bollocking mode, and frowned. "You alright?"

"I just can't stand men like him," she replied. "They're only concerned with who has the bigger stick and because they're in government they can do whatever they want. Thinking like that is never going to get anyone anywhere."

"We don't have to worry about him again, so don't worry," he said. "We'll make it work; the underlings are easy to mop up and issue gag orders against." Malcolm gently placed a hand on Kate's back, careful not to startle her. "We're fine, love. Your first resignation is difficult, but it gets easier after that."

"It's not about forcing him to resign… it's something more than that, but I can't put my finger on it."

"We've got the advantage, as we've got the keys to the future in our hands—he only thinks he does." He waited until she looked at him before he leaned down slightly. She didn't back away, or scold him, or anything of the like. Instead, she leaned into him, letting him support her as they came dangerously close to contact as their faces drew closer.

"Ms. Stewart? Mister Tucker? I have instructions to lead you out, now that your meeting has concluded," an intern said as she opened the door. She found the two standing close together, looking over some papers from the fax machine that Kate still held in her hand.

"Ah, thank you," she said with a polite smile. Go with the flow—it was better to be escorted out instead of thrown out, since chances are she could always come back without a problem due to the former.

Kate and Malcolm followed the intern out, not giving her any opportunity to guess what she had just prevented with her impeccable timing. With another nod to Mick, they got back in their car, heading straight back to Mainframe UK.

"I still can barely believe you wrote that entire letter out on your phone while we were there," she exhaled. "How the fuck did you do that?"

"A combination of doing it before and having a decent chunk already typed out and saved in a file," he admitted. "I'm just glad Aparajita was able to coordinate that while she was so worried. That Operation Golden Age business would have created more than just tabloid headlines, wouldn't it?"

"It very well could have destroyed us," she said. Kate leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, holding onto his hand. "Everything Dad and I worked for could have been gone in an instant."

"Who was your da? You never did tell me," Malcolm murmured, squeezing her hand.

"Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart; I dropped the first part so that I'd work my way up the ranks by myself."

"He was your father…?" he marveled. He glanced over at Kate, completely flabbergasted. "The way people talk about him, it's like he's the patron-fucking-saint of Mainframe UK. I'd think that you'd be a bit more open about the relation now that you're the one in-charge…"

"No," she replied. "There's no point in tossing about his name while I can get things done with my own abilities. Dad wanted it that way, so that's how it's going to be."

"Well, I didn't have the honor of meeting him in real life, but at least I can glean from the stories around the watercooler that he was a good man," he said. "You're lucky—you knew your da your whole life growing up; I still have no clue who mine is and probably never will. Mam's just that kind of woman." The vehicle then pulled into the underground car park and stopped, idling so that the Director and PR Head could get out. "Hey, erm, are you doing anything after work Friday?"

She picked her head up off his shoulder and slid towards the door. "Picking up my daughter from the station—she's away at school, but comes home on weekends she's not with her father."

"Are you sure? Maybe I can…"

"Another time, Malcolm," she said. Kate gently gave him a pat on the knee, getting out before he had a chance to react. He reached out to touch her shoulder, just barely missing as she left. Getting out of the car himself, he watched as she got in the lift that brought her back into the fray of work. He slowly strolled over to the lift, making sure he put enough time between him and Kate. At least there was progress made, he thought as he finally pressed the button to go down. Maybe a cuppa with Glenn would be alright. Yeah… it probably would.