I am genuinely moved by the reviews. Thank you, I'm truly stunned by the effort you've all made to write responses. Thank you for the welcome especially from those who have also written here and been around for a while.

So here's another view. Joyce. Tricky as we saw so little off her and she was played so well by Kate O'Mara. I used her a lot in Brave and it's nice to have another female character to work with. I confess that I'm struggling with writing Dempsey and Makepeace in this but I will do it as it's been requested. Not sure where to place their views (post GA or somewhere else!) I may get distracted by Valentine's writing but I will do this.

The music from the band filled the elegant room. All the guests looked smart in their fancy clothes, most of her colleagues unrecognisable in elegant evening wear. Sergeant Joyce Hargreaves had expected some to dress in Burton's finest, either way, she's overwhelmed that they are here.

She is standing by the door welcoming people as they arrive. A few colleagues have shared dances, others chatted politely and almost all had brought a spouse with them or close significant other.

How Lord Frederick Winfield had managed to donate this gorgeous space, she'll never know but she's very grateful to his daughter, Harriet, for mentioning it to him. The lights and decorations are gorgeous, though this space itself needs very little in the way of embellishment. Joyce is delighted to have sold all the tickets and to raise several thousand pounds for the hospital charity.

Joyce looks around during a brief lull and spies Chas Jarvis with his new wife. They look happy. It must be fourth or five months into their married life, she guesses. She tries not to think about her ex-husband and the empty space beside her.

She spots a lonely Fry standing by the door looking wistful and she knows who he's looking for. Sergeant Harry Makepeace.

Everyone knows about his crush. The most important everyone being James Dempsey of course. She'd seen Fry turn to Harry every time Dempsey asked him for something, hoping that she would protect him from getting buckets of steam, unaware that both detectives were capable of teasing him.

Joyce wonders where they are. She hasn't seen Harry for a couple of weeks. Brenda, the new secretary in HR spied two leave requests for the same time off from the pair, which ramped up the bets on what the American was up to with Makepeace. Joyce refused to speculate or answer any questions. She might acknowledge their chemistry, but she won't gossip.

Joyce walks over to Fry to provide a distraction, he'll never find a date standing like a love sick puppy. He can help her with the raffle tickets or something. "Fry, you look very handsome this evening. Thank you for coming along."

He smiles and nods, "It's amazing, you look lovely." He blushes.

"Oh, this?" She shrugs and waves a vague hand at the dress that took her days to find.

He smiles cautiously. She takes a glass of champagne for them in the hope his nerves will settle, and hers too. He clinks their glasses.

The doors opened again and she looks over at the same time as Fry, and hears him choke on his drink as the room took in Lieutenant Dempsey and Sergeant Makepeace. Notably that they have arrived together and Harry's arm is rested in the crook of her partner's, as if it's meant to be there. She is wearing a simple black dress with a train and a design which reveals her curves and her waist under thin lacy gauze. Joyce doesn't often call women stunning, but her friend certainly was. Lucky Dempsey. Diamond earrings, understated make-up and her hair in curls, she looks like she ought to be on stage. Not here at a charity ball with colleagues who would fawn over this moment, some in less than salubrious ways.

It was hard to drag her eyes away, but James Dempsey is dangerously handsome beside his partner, in a perfectly pressed tuxedo and she thinks how lucky Harry is too. Every other man here is wearing the same outfit but it seems to suit him better, with the collar just open enough to invite attention. He looks like the cat who stole the cream, as well he should, concluded Joyce. They're beautifully polished, yet maintain the air of a couple who just got out of bed.

Around them, there are low whispers. They must hear them. Dempsey bends to murmur something in her ear, and Makepeace shrugs, smiles and moves closer to him. The message is delivered; partner in whatever way the rest of the room wants to translate it.

"Would you like to dance?" Dempsey offers his arm to her when they've exchanged pleasantries. Joyce wavers. She's not sure if she wants to, she's still a little wobbly on her feet. He must see her caution, "I'm no Fred Astaire."

Joyce can't help laugh, she wasn't expecting him to be so self-depreciating. She accepts. "Thank you, no fast moves."

"Wouldn't dare." He grins and she sees a glimpse of the considerate man that Harry had spoken of, all those weeks ago when the pair were seemingly in mutual torment.

"I think Fry is better suited to the disco," Joyce observes and they both laugh as Fry attempts to move with Harry, nervous and out of his depth.

"I think she has made his evening," He comments and she sees the look of a man who has no threat. There is no doubt who Harry is leaving with this evening. "How are you?"

Joyce debates and decides not to go back over old ground. The way he asks - a dip of the head, perhaps of apology - seems to indicate that he'll take any flack she'll land at him but it's not the place and there's nothing much to say. Both he and Harry have been generous with their time and help.

"I thought I'd be the only one here." She admits instead and he shakes his head in amusement.

"We've been looking forward to it," Dempsey turns them carefully, "Everyone is having a great time. I get taken to more of these things than you may think and this evening is the business."

There's more to his praise and she thinks he's trying to tell her that he's been Harry's plus one a few times.

"I'm glad I have a certified expert in posh parties to reassure me." Joyce acknowledges his words.

"I'm still in training, you need to ask the boss over there." He nods towards Harry who is chatting to Fry at the edge of the dance floor now. The music comes to a stop and he is careful when they leave the floor to join their colleagues.

"How are you feeling?" Harry exclaims as Dempsey's arm unconsciously seems to slide around her waist, and she leans into him.

"I was saying to Lieutenant Dempsey that I was nervous, didn't think anyone would turn up."

"We wouldn't have missed it. Everyone is enjoying themselves so much." Harry replies. Joyce wonders if all couples share words and if that's what she and her ex-husband had missed, she hasn't missed the use of 'we' as if it's underlining the statement they made earlier.

They drift away to find Gordon Spikings and his wife. Dempsey's head bends to hers and they laugh, it's a sound she rarely hears from her friend but it's a real heartfelt one.

She saw Harry dance with Spikings, a polite turn around the floor and with Chas, but not with Dempsey. Yet each time she returned to Dempsey, standing within his space, a magnet pulled to his metal. He doesn't dance again. Even if he's in conversation, there's one eye on his partner.

Sometime after the raffle is completed, the party winds down and Joyce needs a cigarette. She ought to stop, the hospital were unhappy about her forays to the roof with her lighter in hand.

"James, you'll get cold." She hears Harry speaking and spies them on the pavement outside the club. Dempsey is pulling his jacket around her body, trying to keep her warm by holding the lapels. Her hands move down his back, pressing him closer. She hums and looks lovingly at him.

Joyce knows why they aren't dancing with each other, they'd surely set the room alight and they know it. What was it with these two?

"I'm warm enough."

His bedroom voice, Joyce thinks. When she looks over, his lips are brushing Harry's, very lightly, their fingers are now entwined creating another dance. Joyce feels like a voyeur, as if she's seen them at them bathed in the afterglow of making love. There is nothing sexual here, just the intimacy of love.

"I've forgotten the raffle prize!" She pulls away with a frustrated sigh. "I'll get it."

"You want me to go find it?" He asks her quietly.

"I know where I left it. Will you be alright?" Harry seems to hesitate, perhaps debating if the bouquet of flowers are worth leaving him for, however briefly.

"Go on, I'll be fine."

"Your place is closer, we can warm up there," She promises him with a devlish grin and then looks up to the sky. "It looks like snow… "

"So be quick…" He grins affectionately at her and she kisses him lightly on his lips with a soft murmur of affection. "I'll find a cab."

Joyce feels a snowflake on her face as Harry disappears. Dempsey shivers and then ducks in embarrassment as he sees Joyce.

"Don't tell her I'm cold." He confides with a reflective gaze that Joyce can't place. "I just want to get her home safe. The snow… You gonna be okay getting back?"

"Oh yes, I have my car," Joyce says, suddenly longing for home herself.

"You should leave before the roads get too hairy." Dempsey looks around at the street and she's suddenly struck by his poise and how much quieter he is outside the office. Though even there, he's more settled these days as if he's found his space.

"Thank you for coming." She says putting out her hand to catch his arm. He leans forward instead, kissing her cheek. Joyce breaths in his scent for the last time and thinks briefly of the bad things that she'll never do with him, but that Harry probably is, lucky girl.

"We all saw you." Joyce pauses as Harry steps on the pavement, before she loses his attention. "Together."

He nods, aware of the implication, that he and Harriet Makepeace would be seen in a different light. He smiles and with another easy grin, he whistles for the passing cab. Joyce watches as Harry climbs into the back seat and he slips beside her, making sure her dress isn't caught up, then he tugs her into his arms.

She touches her cheek where Dempsey had kissed her. He was, she was completely certain, one hundred percent in love with his partner and, however much Harry may try to deny, it's mutual.