"How could it be any worse than you'd already imagined?" queried Watson.

"Robertson is now the new acting senior officer in charge of the entire station."

"Oh."

"And Graves is his second in command."

"Well, you did say you wanted to lose the distraction of being both chief investigator and acting senior."

Holmes glared at her. Watson just shrugged with a wry grin.

"I take it all back about wanting Charlie and Jack's replacements sent ASAP," muttered Holmes. "Because I'd gladly take on all the added responsibility and distraction of full command, if it meant getting rid of Robertson." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "God, someone out there must really hate me."

"You said he's acting, so does that mean he's only here temporarily?"

She nodded. "The reasoning behind the decision, at least according to Robertson," Holmes said. "Is that replacing the two most senior officers of a station isn't just a matter of taking a name out of a hat. It's time consuming and since we're in the midst of a murder investigation, it was decided to temporarily fill the positions with officers who could then best assist the lead investigators if required."

"That sounds like Robertson spin," Watson said.

"That's pretty much what I said to him and then I had to listen to a long winded speech as to how he's more than qualified to lead the station," she said. "Then the condescending prick went on about how he was more than happy to offer his expertise to the investigation should I need it."

Watson winced in sympathy with her partner. She was kind of glad now that she'd missed the meeting, even if the alternative had been to have nearly been run over. Sometimes, anything was better than dealing with the insufferable Robertson.

"I know that Robertson is more than qualified for a command job," Holmes said. "But we were given two weeks to start getting somewhere with the case before he and Graves were to be sent in as reinforcements to assist us, yet we were barely given two days," she muttered unhappily.

"Well, I suppose from a higher up's perspective, we have had another murder since then," Watson pointed out. "And with the mess this place is in, there was a definite need for some more strong leadership to take charge of the station and free us up for the investigation."

"Yeah, I know," Holmes replied with a sigh. "That's actually something that Robertson and I agreed on. This place really is a circus and obviously needed a stronger Sergeant than Charlie in charge."

"I'd say it has that now," Watson murmured.

"Don't remind me." Holmes sighed heavily. "I'm still not sure what is worse. Having Robertson come in and join the investigation or having him effectively placed in charge of everything."

"Look, we're doing our job and today proves that we're not just sitting here on our arses, twiddling our thumbs," Watson told her. "We even found the leak and plugged it, not to mention, gave the Drug's Squad a heads up on a man they've been keen to get a lot closer to for some time."

"Yeah, too bad though, that our main job isn't to bust drug dealers, because we'd have two from two today," Holmes said. She shook her head unhappily. "I don't like this Watson. However they dress it up, there is only one reason to send one of the States finest Detectives here at this period of time and it's not to babysit a station."

"You still think he's here to take over the investigation?"

"Maybe not directly," she said. "You know, I would have gladly accepted assistance from other Detectives if I believed I needed it, but Robertson isn't one to play second fiddle to anyone and as the Station commander, he is now in a position to oversee our investigation and demand regular updates."

"And no doubt, provide Joyce with his own take on what we're doing here."

Holmes nodded in agreement. "Whilst I don't think he'd deliberately set out to do anything to jeopardise the investigation," Holmes said. "I certainly wouldn't put it past Robertson to be overly critical of us in his debriefings with head office, while at the same time, making sure he is seen to be the better man for the job."

"I'm not happy that Robertson is here, either," Watson said. "But I guess I can see the reasoning behind assigning him here though."

"So do I," Holmes reluctantly agreed.

"You just wish it was anyone other than Robertson."

"Pretty much," murmured Holmes. "I hate the idea of someone looking over my shoulder," she said. "It's like being back in school."

"You ever get the feeling that we're being set up," Watson said.

"Yep," replied Holmes. "We fail, Robertson swoops in and takes over without missing a beat and makes it look like he was always here."

"And if we succeed, Robertson is still here to take the credit as the most senior officer," murmured Watson. It wouldn't matter if she and Holmes did all the work, he'd be the face seen in the media while they stood dutifully by his side, with their mouths firmly shut. "I hate this part of the job."

"There are times where I've quite like the thrill of the politics and power plays that are required in the job and have even used it to my advantage before," Holmes said. "Unfortunately, this time I played the game and I lost." She smiled wryly at her partner. "It seems that Joyce is a little more adept at this and has outmanoeuvred me."

"What do you mean by that?" Watson asked. Her partner was grinning sheepishly. "Susan?"

"Let's just say that I talked the boss into giving us this case."

"I already knew that, Susan," she said. "I mean, I know Robertson was tied up with another investigation at the time, but he's the more senior officer and the high profile ones tend to go to him, yet we got it." She narrowed her eyes at her partner then. "How exactly did you talk the boss into it?"

"The moment the call came in about a dead cop in Summer Bay, I went to the boss and put forward the advantages we'd have as a team," she explained. "There was your familiarity with the area and the people and the fact that my record spoke for itself. I am right up there with Robertson in percentage of clearances of cases and maybe by the way I pointed that out, he was left with the impression that overlooking me for this case in favour of Robertson, might be viewed as catering to the old boys club mentality that still prevails within the Force."

Watson winced as she realised what she'd done. "You played the gender card?"

"There may have been a few subtle hints in my argument," she replied a little sheepishly.

"Susan!"

"Seniority aside, we are just as good a team as Robertson and his pet Doogie and just because he's been at this longer, that shouldn't automatically mean these cases go to him," she argued. "In fact, in the instance, I'd say we were the best team for the job. You have a connection and knowledge of the people and this town that no other team could possibly have and that was my main argument as to why we should get the case."

"Robertson could have just seconded me to his team."

"He works best with Doogie, just as you work best with me."

It was another example of the politics involved in the Force that Watson didn't like. Holmes' arguments were valid and while their boss was supportive of all the officers under his command, including the women, he did have a tendency to show favouritism toward certain members. She wasn't entirely sure if his favouritism of Robertson was just because he was a bloke or the fact that he was a damn good Detective who made the Force and therefore Joyce himself, look good. Joyce was also one of the few who actually seemed to genuinely like Robertson.

"Well, however we got the job and whatever ulterior motives Robertson might have for accepting this posting, all we can do, is keep doing our job to the best of our abilities," Watson said. She was also rather relieved she'd already ended her sexual relationship with Holmes, because Robertson would have been just the type to make something of it, even though there was nothing forbidding sex between colleagues. He was so good at spin, he could make something totally innocent seem like the worst thing in the world.

"Speaking of doing our job," Holmes said. "Before you called the attempted hit and run in, I had a chance to speak with Stevenson again," she said. "He had a change of heart when I informed him that Tegan was at the doctor when she was supposedly meant to have been with him," she said. "The clinic has confirmed she was there when Heath was murdered and so Stevenson was forced to admit that he was alone at the time."

"Idiot," murmured Watson.

"An idiot indeed, but now that his alibi has been blown out of the water, he finally seems to have realised that it would best to say nothing at all from now on and so he'll be having a lawyer present should we need to speak to him again," she said. "We also had a little more background information come in about Stevenson while I was being grilled by Robertson. It seems like there had been rumours of impropriety before, but his stepfather pulled a few strings and got him sent here, thinking to keep him out of trouble."

"None of this was in his file."

"Because it was only rumours," she replied. "There was nothing substantial behind the rumours, but it was enough for his stepfather to cut him off financially and get him away from the bad influences in his life. Stevenson's family isn't rich by any means, but they used to hand over money because the guy couldn't keep to his budget. Admittedly, Constables don't earn as much as us detectives, but they're certainly not paupers and so I think he just loved living beyond his means, which made him easy prey for quick money making schemes."

"Do you think he could be our killer?"

"Honestly, after today, I'm not sure he's smart enough to have planned any of the murders and not leave evidence behind that would lead straight back to him," replied Holmes. "I'm also not convinced he'd have the stomach to do what was done to our victims. The guy might act like a bully when it suits him, but he's easily manipulated, especially when it comes to his dick and once you get past the bravado, he's rather spineless," she said. "However, since he was willing to lie about his alibi and has shown no remorse for the damage his dealing drugs can do to others, I'm not willing to completely rule out the possibility that there might be a cold blooded murderer lurking beneath that dumb exterior of his."

Watson chose that moment to yawn. She couldn't help it. It had been yet another long day.

"Look, why don't we head back to the hotel, grab your things and I'll take you to Joey's," Holmes suggested to her.

Watson shook her head. "There's still plenty to do today, like speak to Brax."

"Brax can wait til tomorrow. That should give me a little time to check into his acquaintances before we tackle him and I'll have someone else check in with our two lovebirds as well," she said. "Watson, for god's sake, you nearly got run over, you're bruised and grazed, so take the rest of the day off, because if anyone deserves a bit of time off, it's you."

"I've already had time off," she pointed out. "You haven't had any."

"I'm not the one who is banging into walls and roads," Holmes replied with a smile. "There's only a couple of hours left of your shift anyway, so just take off now."

Realising this was one argument she wasn't going to win, Watson nodded to her. "I might take my laptop and work on a few things though."

"Just remember to password everything related to the case."

"I always do." She doubted Joey would snoop through it, but she'd long gotten into the habit of securing her laptop against any intrusion, whether deliberate or accidental.


Ten minutes later, Watson and Holmes were heading out of the Station when a foul-mouthed torrent of abuse reached their ears. They stepped aside as a harassed looking Const. Avery led the swearing woman past them. The two Detectives stared at each other, then chuckled. "Guess Pee Wee's wife discovered what he used to get up to with Heath," said Holmes.

"I didn't see any blood on her, so his nuts must still be attached," quipped Watson.

"With a mouth like that, he's probably suffered a verbal castration by now," Holmes joked and they chuckled again.


Joey downed another glass of wine. Pippa and Sally had headed home not long after Watson had returned to her place with her belongings. There had been a moment of tenseness between her sister and Watson, before Sally had given a silent nod of thanks to the young Detective and left. And for the first time, Joey had been tempted to ask her sister to take her with her, yet she'd held back. This was her home and she wasn't going to let anyone run her out of it. Not even an attractive young woman who kept looking at her with those damn eyes of hers. Charlie's eyes had been like blue laser beams to her soul. She'd never seen such captivating eyes before or since. Until now. There was such warmth and understanding in those brown globes of Watson's. She shook those thoughts off. She could barely look in Watson's direction at that moment and while she would be forever grateful to her for saving her life, she resented the feelings having her lying on top of her had evoked. She wasn't ready for that or for having Watson become such a part of her life by moving in. It really was proving to be a difficult arrangement to deal with. Much more difficult than even she had expected. It was bringing up too many emotions and it felt weird and a little wrong, to have another woman staying here who wasn't Charlie or family.

"It's just the drink and the tension of the day sending my emotions all over the place," she silently tried to convince herself as she poured another glass.

Watson could feel the tension coming from the other side of the table as she ate her meal. She couldn't blame Joey. She hadn't asked to be caught in this situation, nor had she been given much choice in having a cop basically invade her home as she had done. Even Morag hadn't been too keen on the idea, yet she'd understood the necessity to protect Joey. However, she'd left Watson with no doubt she'd destroy her career should she take advantage of the situation and use her position here to work on Joey in regards to Charlie's murder. As much as she wanted to solve these murders, she'd never worm her way into a person's home and trust, and then use that to manipulate them. That wasn't her style at all.

She frowned when she noticed Joey's glass was empty again. "Compliments to the cook for that lovely meal," she said in an attempt to lighten the mood and distract Joey from her drink.

"I'll let Pippa know you enjoyed it," Joey mumbled as her glass was quickly refilled. Pippa had spent most of the time during her babysitting duties, cooking up a storm in the kitchen and the fridge and freezer were now so full, her and Watson were in no danger of going hungry any time soon.

"Joey, I know this isn't what you really want," Watson said. "And I realise that me being here must be uncomfortable for you."

"You do?" Joey said, horrified at the possibility that Watson could read her thoughts.

"Yeah. I've spent most of my time back in the Bay trying to prove you murdered your lover," she explained. "Yet here I am, sitting at your dinner table and enjoying your food as if it was a completely normal occurrence."

Joey breathed a sigh of relief and took another sip of wine. She really should lay off the drink, but it was the only thing calming her nerves at the moment. Not that it seemed to be doing a very good job just then.

"I admit, it's not exactly ideal for me," murmured Joey, without going into details.

"I'll try my best to make sure my presence here is as painless as possible," Watson told her and Joey looked up at her, catching her eyes.

There was little chance of that happening, thought Joey, as she struggled to break eye contract. "Do you really think I'm in real danger?" she asked as she pushed all other thoughts aside. Or at least tried to.

"Joey, someone aimed a car at you," Watson pointed out. "Whether their intension was to hit you or just scare the shit out of you, someone is clearly targeting you and we can't ignore that."

"I'm kind of hoping it was Brax," she admitted. "He'd be the lesser of two evils."

"He's alibied," Watson informed her. "But we still haven't ruled him out of being involved in some way."

Joey sighed and set aside her glass. Drinking definitely wasn't doing anything for her nerves, except to make her light headed.


"Oh god," moaned Belle as Stevenson continued to slam inside her. He'd barged inside the moment she'd opened the door, torn off her clothes and slammed her against the wall, where he was being so much rougher with her than usual and for the first time with him, she was close to actually reaching the precipice without having to fake it. Her legs clung to his hips as her back smashed against the wall with every pounding thrust of his hips. "Oh yes, yes," she cried.

"By the way," he said, not breaking stride. His time in the cells had given him plenty of time to imagine this moment and he'd headed straight here the second he'd made bail with every intention of enjoying it. "I've been suspended from all duties and am facing drug dealing charges, so you'll need another patsy to fuck for information, but you won't find one at the Station."

"Fuck," she screamed and she came hard for real. There was definitely no need to fake it this time as her body spasmed against his as he continued to plough her depths with hard and fast strokes. Then his words registered with her, but she was already feeling that familiar sensation building between her legs that told her she was close once more. "You bastard," she shouted as she rode out another climax. Her arms snaked around his neck and her legs gripped his hips even harder as she tried to hold on to him as her body bucked against his. After all this time, he'd finally discovered the best way to turn the tables on her and by using his body to control hers, she was now caught between hating him and enjoying the very real pleasure he was giving to her. He brought her to two more climaxes before he reached his own release.

"Oh god," she moaned as she hung limply in his arms, completely spent. She was surprised when he kissed her then and she responded. "You're a bastard," she whispered between kisses.

"And you're a bitch." He pushed her off him so suddenly she fell to the floor in an ungainly heap.

"You prick," she snapped at him, embarrassed at the way he'd seized control so totally.

"Now you know what it feels like to be used and discarded," he told her with a smirk.

"I'll make you pay for this," she threatened.

"How?" he said. "My career and life is already over you dumb cunt," he snarled and struck out with the back of his hand.

She didn't even see it, but boy, did she feel it when it struck and sent her flying across the room. "You bastard!"

"You whore," he sneered back. "Tell anyone about this and I'll fucking gut you like a pig."

She'd detected a hint of danger within him in the past, yet she'd dismissed it, because the moment his cock was in her mouth, she had complete control over him. For the first time though, she was genuinely fearful at the anger in his eyes and the malice in his voice. "Get the fuck out of here," she told him, yet her tone lacked the bravado to enforce her wishes.

He hovered menacing over her and for a second, she thought he was going to hit her again or rape her. He just smirked. "Keep the door open for me in case I feel the need for a bit more of your talented services," he told her and he tossed a twenty at her. "And just remember, that bitches like you get what they deserve in the end," he said threateningly and then left her apartment.

"Fuck," she muttered once she was alone. It was bound to have happened eventually, she thought, that one would figure her out and give her a taste of her own medicine. She almost laughed then. He'd finally found his balls and he'd certainly used them. Her body was still humming from being so thoroughly used and under other circumstances, she'd bask in the aftermath. Yet she hated losing control of any situation and he needn't think that she was just going to leave her door and legs open for his every whim. No, she played by her own terms.


This was the time to make her play, Charlie had decided when he'd again brought her the bucket of water, soap and a sponge. She had spent hours going over and over in her mind what she had to do and while she had reached the conclusion that she might actually have to go through with having sex with him in order to truly lull him into letting his guard down, she was quite prepared to do so. She hated the whole idea of it, but if her only way out of here was to use her body as a tool, then she'd damn well do it, since the alternative was to do nothing and risk dying a slow and lonely death locked away for all of eternity.

Charlie was as nervous as hell though, as she stripped in front of him, but she couldn't lose her nerve. Not now. She made her movements more sensual as she pushed down her pants. Nothing too obvious, just enough to get his attention without telegraphing her true intent. She stuck her chest out as she reached around to unsnap her bra. "Damn it," she muttered.

"What's wrong?"

That inhuman voice almost made her lose her nerve, yet she somehow held strong. "It's stuck," she muttered.


Watson yawned and rubbed her eyes. She's been staring at that same writing on the computer screen for a good five minutes without a word registering.

"Tired?" Joey said from where she was standing in the doorway in her robe. She'd just gotten out of a long soak in the tub. The warmth of the water had been so relaxing, yet she wasn't so sure if it had been such a good mix with all the wine she'd consumed throughout the evening, because she was now feeling even more lightheaded as she walked toward the Detective. Watson was sitting in the chair Charlie had always favoured over the couch. That memory filled her with emptiness. And something else. A desperate need.

"My eyes are a little tired," murmured Watson. "Not sure if I can really unwind completely just yet though," she said. "Because my mind is still racing a million miles an hour even if my body can't keep up."

"Let me help distract you from your thoughts." Joey took the laptop from where it sat on Watson's legs and before she realised what Joey's intention was, she was already straddling her. Watson could smell the alcohol on her breath and knew she should say something, but the moment Joey's lips found hers, her brain switched off.

Keeping her lips on Watson's, Joey leant back slightly and let the robe fall off her shoulders and to the floor. She was only in her knickers and the moment they came up for air, Watson couldn't help but stare at her nakedness, before Joey's lips once more claimed hers. She needed to put a stop to this, but she was having a hard time getting her body to obey. It was too busy reacting to the feel of Joey's hard nipples pressed against her own as Joey grinded her body over hers. There was a kind of urgency behind Joey's movements and it was fuelling Watson's own desire. She gripped Joey's hips, holding her as their mouths worked hungrily against each other.

"Oh my," Watson moaned when Joey gave herself enough room between their bodies so her hands could cup Watson's breasts through her shirt and massage them. Watson's nipples had hardened to the point it was almost painful whenever Joey's thumbs brushed over them.

"This is in the way," declared Joey. She gripped the shirt in both hands and pulled them apart, sending the buttons on Watson's shirt flying.


He approached Charlie cautiously.

"Turn around and press your hands against the wall," that inhuman voice ordered and Charlie shivered as she obeyed. She was starting to wonder if she really could go through with this.

He moved in behind her and she closed her eyes as she felt his hands at her back. The next moment, her breasts fell free from the confines of her bra. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter when he pressed himself against her back and buttocks. Definitely a man, she concluded, shuddering at the way he felt against her. She was grateful at that moment, that she still had her knickers on and he his clothes. But for how much longer?

"You're a beautiful woman, Charlie."

She whimpered when he reached around and cupped her breasts. Stand firm, stand firm, she repeated over and over in her mind.

"Do you miss this?"

She nodded as he played with her breasts in an almost loving kind of way.

"Turn around," he ordered again and once more, she obeyed. Her eyes were open by now and she let them drop briefly. The keys! They were hanging from his belt. Within her reach.

He put his hands back on her breasts, squeezing to a gentle rhythm. "Are you lonely?"

"Yes," she said loudly, for it was the truth.

"Who do you miss the most?" he casually asked. "Joey or your lover?"

"I don't have a lover."

He laughed mockingly at her. "That's not what Brax has been going around saying to anyone who will listen," he said. "He seems to believe you two had been engaging in a torrid affair and were eventually going to get back together again, before you were so cruelly taken from him by death."

"He's lying."

"You don't sound very convincing with your denial," he taunted her.

"I'm scared, that's all."

"And you should be." He knew what she had planned, she realised as he loomed toward her. She reacted without hesitation and Charlie was thankful she'd used her time in captivity to stay in shape through normal exercise, so that when her fists rammed hard into the side of his head, it was with all her strength behind it and the moment he was thrown off balance, she didn't stick around. She snatched the keys from his belt, pushed him away from her and bolted from the room.