John left Anna's building early, his tie hanging around his shoulders, and almost ran into the man standing outside it. He recognized Green and it took everything John had not to strangle the man where he stood. With a curt nod, John headed in the other direction.

"I think you're forgetting something."

John made a show of checking his pockets and shook his head. "I'm all good mate. Thanks anyway."

"I mean you're forgetting to pay me." He held out his hand, jerking his head toward the upper floors of the building. "You had all night with her and that's expensive."

"Then it's a good thing she's not a prostitute." John turned but stopped when he felt something at his back.

Green's voice hissed in his ear, "I think you misunderstand me."

"No, I don't."

John spun faster than Green could anticipate and smacked the flat of his hand at Green's ear. The other man stumbled, dropping his switchblade, and John kicked it into the street. He grabbed Green by his collar and knocked him into the side of the building, holding him there as he tried to keep his rage to the growl in his voice.

"If you ever threaten me again, I'll break your face and then bust your head in. Do you understand or should I get a Russian translator." Green nodded furiously and John dropped him into a heap on the ground. "Don't ever let me see you again."

He shoved his arms into his jacket and tied his tie as he hurried into the Tube station. A vibration from his pocket had John digging for his phone but the bars blinked furiously for a second and then died in time for him to notice Robert's name on the screen. John groaned and worked his oyster card into the machine to hurry for the next train.

He stumbled into the office and held up his hands when Robert beckoned him from his office. "Look, sir, I was-"

"I like how you're wearing your clothes from yesterday." Robert chuckled and then passed over a folder. "I think you need to read this."

John took the folder and opened it. He frowned at the contents and then up at Robert. "This is from my desk."

"Yes it is." Robert sat down, "I was just curious why you didn't tell me about getting a whole shipment of documents we could use to take down some truly horrible people."

"It was right before a very big party, sir." John closed the file, tapping it on his open hand. "I was going to tell you this morning but-"

"But you were too busy trying to get dressed at someone else's house that you didn't have time."

"I…" John stopped himself, "I hope you're not about to judge me for finally getting some when you've been telling me to do that for months."

"I'm just hoping you didn't spend a fortune trying to find a girl who might be willing to take you."

"It didn't cost me a thing."

"I think you're lying."

John ground his teeth. "Okay, it cost me something but not what you think."

"Whatever it cost you, I want you to tell me what you know about the people in these folders?" Robert pointed at the folder in John's hand. "Why do they matter and what do we get from taking them down?"

"I thought you were all about the honor of simply being good guys." John continued tapping the folder against his hand. "But from what Ms. Smith told me when she so graciously dumped these files in my lap, these are bad people and they need our special attention."

"I do hope, John, you're not about to tell me you've received some of Ms. Smith's special attention." Robert chewed the inside of his cheek and John focused everything he had on not moving. "Because other than the gross impropriety of sleeping with an informant, there's still the question of whether or not she's even on our side."

"If she's on any side, sir, it's her own."

"That's not a mentality we can trust, John."

"We don't have to trust it. We just have to use it." John waved the folder in the air. "If it gets us this then does it matter?"

"It matters if we get to the bench and we've got nothing but speculation and one witness."

"She's a pretty impressive witness."

"I'm talking about something more than her profile."

"She gave us all this." John stood, "And I've got a feeling it'll all hold up to the same scrutiny we used for the Turkish case."

Robert leaned back in his chair, chin resting on his palm. "Is this the point where you're also going to tell me you're not sleeping with her? Because I won't have you buggering this investigation because she's got a pretty face and seems inordinately interested in you for reasons I can't fathom."

"I'm a relatively attractive man."

"Bates!"

"Fine," John raised his hands, fingers curved down to hold the folder in place, "I'm not sleeping with her."

"Don't make me put you to a polygraph to confirm that." Robert dropped his hand and returned to his desk. "And get something cracked about that case before I wonder if we made the right decision keeping her on as your CI."

"Don't worry, I won't cock this up."

"You'd better not."

John walked back to his desk and noted how Talbot peeked from over the top of the folder he read. With a wag of his finger, John silence whatever Talbot might have said. "Considering you've got bag under your eyes and two mugs there that smell of strong coffee to go with whatever other cups are in your bin right now, I don't think you're in a position to say anything."

"I wasn't going to." Talbot put a hand to his head before turning to rummage in a drawer. John pulled a bottle out of his drawer and knocked the top of Talbot's computer to get his attention. "And could you try to not be so loud?"

"Good night then?"

"Um… when you say 'good' I think you-"

Both of them jumped as something slammed down on Talbot's desk. John looked up to see Mary Crawley, her face like thunder, leaving a stack of files before turning toward the other desks. His jaw dropped and John turned to Talbot, his shaking finger pointing back toward Mary as Talbot nodded.

"We both got a little too soused and then…"

"You slept with her?"

"No!" Talbot moaned, holding his head and dropping the folder in the process. "If I was going to sleep with Mary Crawley I'd want to be as sober as could be because I'd want to remember every second of that."

"Then what did you do?"

Talbot drooped over his arms. "I… I went back to hers and we were almost to the point where we'd both be too far gone to stop ourselves when I stopped."

"Oh my heavens, Henry Talbot's an honorable man."

"Shut up!" Talbot tossed one of his empty coffee cups at John, who deflected it into his rubbish bin. "I'm not what you think."

"Or what she thinks." John wiped flecks of coffee off the file in front of him. "What's she got a problem with then? You'd think she'd respect the fact that you both were under the influence and therefore suffering from questionable consent."

"Dubious as consent would've been," Talbot sighed, going for one of the mugs and groaning when he found it empty. "She thought I was having her on and just put her in a vulnerable position to embarrass her."

"Be glad she was drunk then. Means she couldn't have shot you." John flipped a page in the file before making a note to the side.

"Yeah." Talbot shook his head, dropping the file to his desk and meeting John's eyes. "What do you do when you've got to prove to someone you were trying to be a gentleman?"

"I don't know but it must suck when they don't think of you as a gentleman to begin with."

"Hey," Talbot snapped his fingers and John met his gaze. "I won't take that from you. Not when I can see you're wearing the same clothes you were yesterday."

"So what if I am?"

"I know where you've been because I was there and not so drunk that I don't remember who sat down at Mr. John Bates's booth at the bar." Talbot sat back in his seat, risking a satisfied smile before he screwed up his face in pain. With a palm to the side of his head he continued. "Don't tell me, she's good isn't she?"

"Why ask a question you just told me not to answer?"

"So you did… with her?"

John looked around before leaning between their desks toward Talbot, "I've got this nagging suspicion that if I tell you anything then I'll be out on my ear in a second so whatever fun I had last night is staying between me and the person who had fun with me."

"Are we sure she had fun?"

"I went four rounds and she had six so I'd say it was fun." John sat back, "What about your files, anything you've found since we stopped last night?"

"A few things."

John waited, "Are you going to tell me what those things are?"

"After," Talbot picked up both of the coffee mugs on his desk. "I get refills here. And you my want to order in. We'll be sorting through this information for days yet."

True to his word, over the next few days John and Talbot rarely saw the exterior of their building. More than once one or the other of them had to kick the sofa in the break room to get them to wake up. Twice, John tapped Talbot on the shoulder and offer him a cup of coffee while waiting for the imprint of computer keys to leave his partner's face and Talbot managed not to take video of the moment John's chair slid out from underneath him when he fell asleep while leaning back too far.

By the end of the week, they final sorted through the mass of files and Robert finally kicked both of them out of the building. He complained that they smelled but John bet the reality was that the city could not afford the overtime. Talbot offered John a lift but he shook his head.

"If I don't get back to my flat and actually use it then what's the point of having got a new one?"

"To get out from under the shadow of the old one." Talbot shrugged, "The whole place smelled like cigs and shame."

"My shame."

"I know they weren't your cigs." Talbot stretched, squinting toward the sky dramatically. "Is that the sun?"

"Get home and I'll see you at work on Monday yeah?"

"I'm going to sleep all weekend."

"I hope so." John took the Tube toward his flat and climbed the stairs in the opposite direction from most of the people trying to get out of the neighborhood for the morning.

He dodged them, barely missing a woman with a pram, and managed to get onto his street. As he went to pull his keys from his pocket something hit him hard in the side. John stumbled into a wall and ducked a well-aimed crowbar that shattered part of a brick out of the wall where his head had just been. The shower of dust and shards landed over his jacket and in his hair but John raised an arm to protect his head as it came down again.

The crack was nothing compared to the searing pain that echoed through his body. John crumpled to the ground, holding his arm close to his body, and landed to protect his valuables with his left arm. The pavement was unforgiving but whatever bruise he might find on his shoulder the next morning was nothing compared to the way his right arm bent in his jacket.

Looking up, John saw three men. He studied them as quickly as he could before moving. Kicking out with both feet, he caught the closest man in the kneecap. The man went down and John wrapped his legs around the man's neck, pulling tight and twisting to knock the man's head against the wall.

He stayed still as the other two moved in. The crowbar came down again but John rolled toward the man holding it. With his right arm held tight to his chest, John knocked into the other man's legs and led him to stumble. As the man rocked backward, trying to find his feet, John put his leg arm down and pushed up to kick out. His shoes caught the man in the face as he leaned forward to get his balance and two cracks told John he collided with the man's cheek and his nose. The crowbar hit the ground as the man did, holding his nose to try and stop the blood flowing into his mouth.

John landed on his feet, ducked a punch from the third man, and reached for the crowbar with his left. He grabbed it, holding fast, and swung it around to meet the approach of the other man. It caught the man's shoulder and he grabbed for it, giving John the time he needed to crack the man in the face with his elbow. With dazed eyes the man fell to the ground and John let his left arm drop to his side but kept the crowbar in his grip.

Someone clapped from an alcove and John raised the metal rod in his hand, holding fast and above his head as if ready to strike down. But the sight of the gun in his face had him lowering the crowbar slowly. He snuck a quick look around but there was no one on the street and the quiet of the distant traffic told John there would be no one quick to the rescue.

"You are better prepared than I planned." The accented voice set the hairs on John's arms rising but he swallowed back whatever bile he had in his throat to watch the man coming toward him. "I meant for this to be a little more gentle but they got carried away."

"Should've armed them better." John nodded at the three men on the ground, only one of them still making a noise but the other two breathing. "They're pretty green to be out here on their own."

"I know. But life's been difficult lately and we're working where we can." The man patted at his perfect hair and John frowned.

"What's with your fake accent?"

"Excuse me?"

"You kept chewing on your vowels like you're trying to remember to twist them. Where are you really from?"

The gun dropped a touch and John seized his moment. He knocked the man's wrist, hard enough that the gun dropped, and kicked the man in the stomach. He hit the wall and John dropped the crowbar to grab the gun for himself.

With a pull on the hammer, John cocked it and placed the barrel on the man's forehead, "Who do you work for?"

The man quailed, lip quivering, and John pulled back. But the man's face changed in an instant. He charged forward, punching at John's broken arm, and tackling John to the ground. Pain shrieked through John's body and he tried to fight back but the man raised the crowbar above his head and brought it down on John's shoulder.

Another crack and John fought past the pain to knock the man off him. They rolled and John scrabbled for the gun, ignoring the nerves crying out, and finally raised it to the man as they stood facing one another. John blinked, spots darting before his eyes, and he tried to keep himself standing as the overwhelming desire to collapse and faint nudged at him from every corner of his mind.

"Who do you work for?" He ground out each word as the man's shaking hands adjusted their grip on the bar like it was his cricket bat.

"I don't work like that."

John growled against another bloom of pain as he adjusted his aim and fired. The man dropped the crowbar and grabbed for his knee, holding the spot where John's bullet entered. Stumbling over to him, kicking the crowbar away and just managing to knock one of the rising men in the head on its way, John stood over the whimpering man and aimed.

"I won't ask again."

"You won't need to." John turned on his heel, wincing and grimacing as Green walked out of the alcove. "Mr. Barrow and his friends work for me."

"And you wanted them to what? Beat me up? Threaten me? Steal my wallet?"

Green shrugged, "Any of them would've worked."

"Why? Because I didn't pay you for something that wasn't yours to buy and sell." John raised the gun and Green put up his hands, but the smile on the man's face persisted. "What do you want?"

"Just to see what you can do, Mr. Bates."

"Impressed yet?" John bit down, trying to stop his arm from shaking."

"Very." Green pointed to the CCTV at the end of the street. "And I do hope, when you call this in the moment I'm gone, you won't be so foolish as to ask for that footage. I've got a few friends of my own and they made sure it's pointed away from this little corner."

"How brilliant of you." John staggered, holding his right arm as close to his body as he could without the support of his left hand. "What do you want now? You've seen what I can do. What do you know now that you didn't before?"

"That I think Ms. Anna decided to find herself a knight in shining armor."

"Who?"

Green's smile stretched to a leer. "Don't be coy, Mr. Bates, it doesn't suit either of us. We both know who we've got in common."

"I rather hope there's nothing in common between us but the judge who tosses you into a cell."

"And who's going to put me there?" Green sniggered, "You?"

"I'd like to." John lowered the gun slightly. "But since you haven't technically attacked me there's not much I can do to you with this."

"Smart man."

John nodded toward the street, "You'd better make yourself scare then. You know, before I call the rest of this in and they wake up in time to identify you."

"They won't betray me." Green stepped toward John, "Do you know why?"

"I'll guess it has something to do with that thick accent of yours and the gangster act you're bandying about."

"It's not an act if it's the real thing." Green was close enough now that John could almost smell the borscht on him. "I've got friends in places too dark for you to go. Places you only see in the corners of your nightmares."

"You wouldn't want to know what's in the corners of my nightmares." John steadied himself on both legs, facing Green head-on. "You'd never survive there."

"Wouldn't I?"

"No." John swung his forehead forward and cracked down on Green's nose. The man did not move fast enough to avoid it and tripped back over the prone body of Mr. Barrow while holding at his bleeding nose. John raised the gun but instead of firing brought it around to knock against Green's jaw. It was almost cartoonish the way his eyes rolled back into his head at the force of the hit.

John staggered back, moving the gun to his right hand, and dug into his pocket for his mobile. He almost dropped it, the awkward angle making his cracked collarbone ache and scream all the more, but brought it to his ear. "This is DI John Bates. I've been attacked by five men on the street near my house. I need emergency response as soon as possible."

It was everything John could do to stay conscious until police arrived. They rounded up the men coming to and John winked at Green, still holding a swelling nose between two black eyes, before letting his body drop onto the stretcher they brought for him. Robert and Talbot showed up just as John loaded into an ambulance and Talbot insisted on taking the ride with him.

They did not speak on their journey as the paramedic tried everything he knew to reduce pain and set John's broken bones in the mean time. Arriving at hospital was all a blur for John and when he eventually could track time again his right arm was in a solid cast and his left arm stayed close to his body with a tight sling. He adjusted in bed but it disturbed the person sitting in the chair close to him.

"They say you've got a compound fracture in that arm and you're lucky you didn't have to lose it." John blinked as Anna stretched out of the chair, tucking her magazine away. "And your collarbone's in a state but it'll heal faster than your right arm will."

"What are you doing here?"

"Seeing how you are." Anna hopped onto the edge of the bed, winking at him. "As far as I know, Mr. Green's still in holding but they're trying to get him out on bail. Think he'll manage it?"

"They can't let him-" John tried to sit up too fast but Anna put a hand to his chest to push him back when his face contorted with pain.

"I think it's best you leave what people can and can't do to those with two functioning arms." She leaned back, "Quite brave of you really, taking on four men by yourself."

"You think it was stupid."

"I think I don't remember learning that the Met trained its officers to take on multiple assailants after losing the use of their dominant arm."

"I'm left-handed.

"Still." Anna shrugged, "That's something. Where'd you learn that trick?"

"The service."

"Which one?"

John eyed her, "Why don't you just use your mole in my department to find that out?"

"And miss the depth of conversation we might have on your sickbed?" Anna clicked her teeth at him. "I'm trying to get to know you better."

"Tit for tat is it?"

"I'm not showing you my tits in here even if I felt like it'd be a good idea to try and tap you while you're at my mercy." Anna grinned and then hopped off the bed. "As it is, I was hoping to discover a bit more about you before Green sends someone to try and kill you again."

"It wasn't enough he tried to kill me this time?"

"Given that you broke his nose and then called the police on him, no." Anna took a breath, "I think it's fair to assume that you're… in bigger trouble now than you were."

"Tell me," John leaned back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "Why was he waiting outside your building when I left it that morning?"

"Why didn't you just pay him and have done with it?"

"I asked first." John rounded on her, "I'm putting everything on the line and this bed is what I've got to show for my efforts so there better be a damn good reason why he was waiting for me outside your place."

Anna's face crumpled into a scowl. "You think I sold you out, don't you."

"Why wouldn't you? You're SVR and they thought they could intimidate me or maybe even blackmail me with what we did."

"I'm not that kind of person."

"Someone who honey traps?"

"I made my intentions clear from the start. I wanted you, not the other way around." Anna hissed back at him, "And how dare you insinuate that."

"He did. It was all he could say about you." John leaned up, ignoring the pain in his arm. "What else could you be to him or his operation if not someone who lures the unsuspecting and stupid for sex?"

The slap she sent ringing across his face stung worse than the deadened pain of his injuries. He met her furious face and tried to hold back the fury in his own. "How dare you?"

"How dare you get me involved in all of this?" John nodded at his arms, "I could've died."

"Then be grateful it was just your arms." Anna stepped back. "And Green wanted your money as a test of what I might've told you. Thanks to you he now thinks we mean something to one another."

"You're the one who said we were in a relationship."

"Grow up John. This isn't some spy movie where we fall in love and then escape in a hail of bullets to live on a beach somewhere. This is the kind of game where escaping with a few broken bones is victory because anything else means we failed." Anna shook her head, "I thought you understood what you'd gotten yourself into."

"I didn't think I was taking on the Russian mafia or the Russian government."

"Then wake up and smell the vodka."

They stared at one another a moment before John finally spoke, "What are you to Green. And don't bullshit me with you being handled by him. What does he think you are that he'd pull a switchblade on me and then send four men to beat me to death just for touching you."

Anna held her arms close to her chest, trying to pass it off as her crossing them furiously but John saw it for the comfort factor it was. "He thinks we're a couple. That there's something between us because we work together."

"Then it's jealousy? Him trying to pass himself off as your pimp and then kill me?" John snorted, the humor of the situation riding on the ridiculous. "So there's a Chechen man, about to be out on bail, who thinks that he owns you and that me touching you is tantamount to a call for my death. Is that what I'm hearing because I don't want to be wrong here."

"Don't be a prat about this."

"I'm being serious." John's voice hardened, "What else am I going to lose if I continue to help you?"

"Not as much as me if you stop." Anna sighed, "It's your choice, John. I won't hold it against you if you chose to back away now. And consider the information I gave you on Carlisle a going away present."

"Stop," John reached out, grabbing her arm with his broken one but releasing immediately as the pain stabbed him to the shoulder. It took him a moment to fight back the nausea and face her. "You don't get to act all hurt and offended. Not when there's too much on the line right now."

"Then let me spell out for you what's on the line for me." Anna pointed at her chest. "If we fail, I'm dead. Worse than dead, they'll never find my body. I'll be tortured until I break and tell them everything. They'll know your entire life story and the story of everyone you know or even come into contact with. Sometime before I break, and after, they'll left Green have me. And you can imagine what he'll do."

Anna swallowed, working to keep her voice steady. "When they're done, or figure I'm no fun anymore, they'll carve me up. There won't be big enough pieces for me to find anywhere and I'll just be missing. That's when they'll come for everyone else. All of my employees, anyone with the remotest of connections to me or mine will vanish or die, and then they'll go after you. They'll clean house, top to bottom, and start over on the ashes."

John stared at her, "This is about Mary, isn't it?"

"They've threatened her before and that's when they've no clue what she knows." Anna went to take John's hand but stopped herself. "I can't let my cowardice all those years ago take away everything from everyone. I've not got much to lose myself but they have. I won't have them suffer because of me. Even if all I've got left is my dignity, they won't take that with everything else."

John and Anna stared at one another before John nodded. "Find a way to get Green to believe I'm nothing more than a DI you roped into your influence and we'll leave it at that. He won't suspect anything if you tell him you're blackmailing me."

"Aren't I?" Anna pointed behind her. "Your boss comes back and finds me here and he'll know I'm not just your CI."

"Then you'd better leave." John swallowed, "And we'll figure this out."

"You still want to help me?"

"I never stopped wanting to help you. I just wanted to know the truth." John made sure she looked him right in the eyes. "I'm here for the long haul and that means you've got to give me the whole truth. None of these half-truths to make me pity you. I need it all, in whatever gruesome detail there is, because I can't help you otherwise."

Anna nodded, "Once you're out of here, you get it all. Nothing held back."

"Good." John took her offered fingers in his. "Because we are in this together."

"If you say so."