A/N: Hi all, it's been a few days, but I hope I could keep you entertained with my other story that needed to be written. Once again I'd like to thank Shadowsamurai83 for the beta - and all of you reviewers for the comments.

Almost There - chapter 6

Most of the morning had been spent browsing around in chatrooms and message boards to find out more about their possible assassins, but most of it had remained unsuccessful.

They had all taken it as a somewhat positive sign, pointing towards the chatters still being teenagers and enrolled at St. Anthony's. It would narrow the number of suspects down considerably, and the way things were, they needed a little help.

Still, the mood was by no means better, which was partially due to impatient phone calls by Healy and three personal appearances by the Commissioner. Both Boyd and Spence were individually plotting a little encounter with the principal that would have no witnesses and a few inexplicably violent results, especially after the fourth call where the man had the audacity to call Grace names. It didn't bother Boyd much when people badmouthed him; in fact, he saw it as a regular part of his life, but nobody, absolutely nobody, was allowed to insult Grace.

She, however, had remained surprisingly calm throughout, waiting for Healy to finish his rant and then quietly suggesting that he'd cool off before they discussed any further. As the man yelled on, she had simply terminated the call and scribbled a few notes on her papers.

"I don't think we need to waste your time profiling that arse, Grace," Boyd commented laconically. "He's an...."

"You've said that before, Boyd," she replied with a slight smile, but continued writing. "However, I think a profile of Mr. Healy will come in handy at some point."

"Hmm," Eve agreed. "For a man whose position is so dependent on cooperating with us, he's awfully uncooperative."

"That's because he's a git, a pompous git!"

"We understand that, Boyd."

The ensuing discussion was interrupted by Commissioner Hutchinson's second visit of the day. The first had left the team a little floored, since after Grace's somewhat disrespectful phone call the night before, they had expected the man to be pissed off and yelling, but none of the sort had happened. They didn't know the content of the nightly phone call, but it was clear that Hutchinson deferred to Grace's demands.

He'd looked almost meek, which was a strange sight to begin with, but the whispered conversation with Grace had made her smile and him look relieved. They'd left the office then to continue their chat, now more engaged and friendly than the day before.

Surprised looks had been exchanged between the team and lips bitten to keep from grinning at Boyd's scowl.

By the time Grace came back half an hour later, her mood had definitely improved, while Boyd's had still not completely recovered. Hence his anger at the phone calls from Healy and his cutting and unqualified remarks in the aftermath.

The reason for Grace's pleasure became obvious as Hutchinson did show up a second time, right after the call to Healy, bringing along a strange man in his 30s.

To Grace, however, the man seemed no stranger, since she exclaimed "Tim! So good to see you!" and happily shook the man's hand. It looked as if she'd want to hug him, but refrained from it at the last second.

Tim McKinsey, it turned out, was her assistant, whose presence with the team she had specifically demanded the night before.

The members of the former CCU eyed him with at least a little curiosity, if not suspicion. He looked pleasant enough, was probably capable enough, but they weren't certain why Grace would need an assistant when she had several people just waiting for her orders.

Naturally, Boyd didn't keep his mouth shut about the fact that one psychologist on the case was more than enough, earning him a few scathing looks at first and a slammed door later.

It was almost like old times, the arguments, the lack of reason. Boyd was still Boyd and Grace was still Grace. What was also just like old times was seeing Boyd mope around as soon as Grace left. And though she didn't like the position one bit, Eve took Boyd aside for a few calming words. First Stella, then Spencer came closer as well, their conversation in hushed whispers, which the others watched with curiosity.

"Mr. Boyd?" Tim said tentatively, "I assure you...."

"Forget it," Boyd interrupted him. "I was out of line just now. I apologize."

Despite their conversation just now, the former team mates stared at him wide-eyed. Maybe Boyd wasn't exactly Boyd anymore?

*

"Jeremy." Grace exasperated voice became clearly audible even through the closed doors, announcing her return. "I requested Tim because he is a communications-expert. That was your main reason for hiring him. Commissioner Hutchinson agreed with me that Tim's presence here would be beneficial to the case and...." She paused and apparently turned away from the door, blocking it with her body, "he takes care of the funding, so I really don't see why you get so worked up over this."

Bartlett's voice sounded aggravated, making them all raise their eyebrows. "It's an interference with my organisation, Grace. Not even the Metropolitan Police can just waltz into my organisation, monopolise my staff, and think they'll get away with it."

"They made a request and you specifically told me that refusal was not an option." Grace's irritation grew by the second.

"It doesn't give them the right to just take my," the emphasis was not lost on anybody, "employees and do whatever they like with them. Tim is on my salary list, as are you, Grace, if I have to remind you."

Inside the room Tim cringed. It wasn't a new discussion; Bartlett didn't like to lose control over his employees and Grace's tendency to do things her own way, the reason for it having already become obvious, ruffled him greatly. Tim knew that Grace could handle it, but still, it was an awkward situation. One that the police officers were not happy with at all.

In fact, both the DSI and the DI looked murderous, the women next to them barely more controlled.

Outside the room, Jeremy Bartlett was getting annoyed. The situation was unacceptable. The second day in a row he was spending at police headquarters, both of them a tedium of waiting for her. His business responsibilities had been taken care of in less than three hours and the lunch he had taken alone hadn't improved his mood. Ever since the phone call during dinner last night he had been in a foul mood, especially when hearing that Grace had been back to the hotel but not seen fit to contact him.

The Commissioner's dismissal from the day before was an affront, and the fact that he was treated like some ordinary visitor with little security clearance even more so. He wasn't used to such treatment. They had asked for his people, his organisation, and now they treated him like some paper boy. That was simply not to be accepted.

Just like the glances that were thrown his way. People stood and stared, their expressions between annoyance and a little too much curiosity for his liking.

Taking her arm, he pulled her closer and lowered his voice. "Could we go inside this office, please? Or better[,] out to dinner? It's late already."

Grace stiffened at the touch, which was a little tighter than she felt comfortable with, and the man's closeness. "Jeremy...."

"Mr. Bartlett, that room is off limits for everybody not directly involved in the case," Commissioner Hutchinson interrupted the exchange, using his full height deliberately. He still had a good three inches on Bartlett and now made sure it showed. "I'm afraid you don't have the security clearance to enter the room. Ill also have to kindly ask you," he paused for effect, his words deliberately drawn out, "to leave this area here. It is not open to visitors either."

The occupants of the room stared at each other, then tried to catch a glimpse through the blinds of how the power struggle would unfold.

In the end, Bartlett stalked off, ramming Hutchinson's shoulder as he passed him. The other man shook his head, a little amused, but in full awareness that he had won this round. "He seems a little aggravated," he commented offhandedly. " Unusual for a man who puts such importance on his perfect image."

Grace only sighed. "Was there something in particular that you wanted, Commissioner? We are working as hard and as fast as we can. Even Mr. Healy should be aware that this is a delicate and highly dangerous situation." She leaned back against the door, feeling completely exhausted. As if the case wasn't problematic enough, the worst case scenario weighing heavily on her mind, she felt trapped between four men who were trying to pull her in different directions. And there was still....

"That's what I told Mr. Healy. I also reminded him that his cooperation would ensure progress much more easily." Smiling, the Commissioner stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "I guess he'll do it in person too, but Mr. Healy asked me to pass on his apologies for his earlier words. Something about him having lost control and not meaning to be so impolite.... You did make an impression."

*

They'd decided to have a raffle for who'd stay and watch the chat that evening. Colin had lost and would take the first shift, while Eve, obviously out of work for the moment, volunteered to take the nightshift.

After Hutchinson's third visit, they'd devised a script for how to behave in the chat. For the moment it would be nothing but hello and 'interesting topics you have here' and 'just lurking and lazing around,' but it would start them somewhere.

It impressed him, Boyd had to admit, how precisely and quickly this assistant of Grace's had come up with the lines. That young man and Grace had the profiles of those two chatters - as far as they could at this point - down within minutes. But he couldn't help it, and he could see it on the faces of his former team mates as well, it gave him a pang to see how well Grace worked with somebody else. How it was now a stranger with whom she played this game of mind ping pong, just like they used to do.

Their working style was like that game as they fired out words and lines against each other in quick succession, so that the others had a bit of trouble keeping up in typing the lines out.

As the printout lay finished on the table, they had decided on the pub as a way of relaxation.

And now grouped around the table, they all felt the awkwardness keenly. The seating arrangements had taken a moment, as basically everybody had vied for the spots next to Grace. She raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't comment. In the end, it turned out to be Kazuko and Tim acting as a bit of a buffer zone, Eve thought. For a moment they all sat there, eyeing each other, nobody sure where to start.

Tim was startled when Boyd and Spence went to get the drinks for everybody, but neither asked Grace what she wanted. "They forgot to ask you," he commented, already getting up to follow the other men, but Grace shook her head.

"They know what to get," Stella answered instead.

"Okay...." He eyed the women around him, wondering about their behaviour, but since Dr. Foley seemed to be perfectly comfortable with the arrangement, settling into conversation with the other women, he decided to just follow her lead.

"Have you known each other for long?" he asked a while later after they had ordered food and a toast had been made.

Kazuko shook her head, claiming that she was new to the team, but nodded to the others with a shy grin. "It's a bit like working with legends."

Derisive snorts sounded all around the table at that. "Legends? Oh please...," Eve ground out, nearly choking on her drink.

"Your clear up rate is unbelievable." Though blushing furiously, Kazuko held her ground. "I even put in a transfer request for your unit, but it fell to the wayside when the unit was dissolved...."

The sudden tension around the table could have been cut with a knife, the former team mates finding their glasses very interesting at once. As if by avoiding each other's eyes they could make this topic go away, they looked anywhere but the people around the table.

There it was, the ghost in the room. Sooner or later, it would have become a topic, none of them was so delusional as not to expect it. But knowing it and going through with it were two very different things, and avoidance looked very tempting as it was.

From his place as a clueless observer, Tim found the situation fascinating, even more so since it gave him a lot more insight into his boss than he had expected. The look on her face was clear; she wanted to be anywhere but here and she wanted to do anything but this.

He found it odd to see how, out of the blue, the four others looked up to stare at her.

*

Grace felt the eyes on her keenly. How could she not, since six pairs of eyes were trained on her? They all demanded an answer, she knew, one she couldn't and wasn't willing to give. She had said her piece before and had remained unheard. She wouldn't do it again. Not for him or for anybody. Defiantly, she looked up, her eyes instantly connecting with Boyd's.

Even though the din of the pub was around them, people talking, glasses and tableware clinking, music in the background, in their world there was no noise. They were alone in a world of two, unaware of the people sitting at their table, of the glances that were thrown at them. None of it existed in the world that included only them and the connection of their eyes.

Words were spoken in the connection, thoughts and feelings laid open, but they were mumbled, as if in a haze. His eyes widened, just as her heart rate sped up and blood was pumping in her ears, deafening her to all else. All she knew, all she could see and feel, were his eyes: his questions, her questions, but no answers.

The heat rising in her body had nothing to do with alcohol or the heating of the room. And it wasn't even the exposure to people's scrutiny, which she became momentarily aware of, as Kazuko bumped into her slightly. No, the heat was entirely due to Boyd's eyes connecting with hers and the never-seen-before desires they projected.