I did it! I wrote another chapter! Here we go! Thank you all for your patience and words of encouragement, I am so grateful to all of you! And how good was the season 6 premiere? So excited to see what happens and how it may influence my plans for this fic!
"A 24-year-old man has been charged in connection with the murder of Baswinder Kaur, the disappearance of Leonie Collersdale and the abduction and attempted murder of a third woman," Liz can hear ACC Hilton's voice through her headphones as she enters the AC-12 lobby, signing herself in and retrieving her access pass, "The third victim was rescued from an address in the Moss Heath area late last night. She's currently safe and well and assisting our inquiry."
Good, Liz thinks as she pulls off her headphones and puts her phone away in her pocket. She had missed a lot recently, having been so busy with work, and wanted to catch up on the last week of news in the area. This Operation Trapdoor seemed to have quite the buzz about it, the Polk Avenue station team receiving quite the appraisal. An appraisal Ted seemed rather quietly distasteful about for some reason during their call when he would mention it, though only briefly. She is sure she will be filled in with more detail when she sees him. Liz smiles at the receptionist before making her way through the security gates. Entering the lift, hauling her small suitcase behind her and balancing a pile of files in the crook of her arm, she lets out a short breath, steadying herself for the doors to open once she has risen to the familiar floor.
It has been a month since she was last here, before she was called to London for more meetings with the Met about her Oscar Kilo scheme. As the lift ascends, coming closer to the floor, her stomach twists in excited anticipation at seeing her friends again. It has not been long, only a month, but after the last five months they had been so good to her. And she had become so dependent on them. The last month away had been extremely challenging, not having them to lean against and unload onto. She was still processing everything, as were they. They were, though, as they stressed before she left, only a phone call away. And Liz had been unable to resist the constant temptation to ring one of them almost every night, Steve mostly - Hastings often busy with work and Kate with her family.
She had not told them that she was coming back today, not entirely sure herself when her trip would end. She is not even sure if they are still here at the office now, it being rather late. 20.37 Liz reads from her phone in her pocket.
The lift doors open, revealing the office entrance to her. Moving out, pulling her suitcase along behind her, Liz taps her pass on the gate. Moving further into the office, Liz quickly scans over the crowd of desks, the few familiar faces there paying little attention to her beside the odd friendly smile. Maneet is the first one to properly acknowledge her as she passes, sending her an enthusiastic wave, to which she returns it (rather awkwardly with her arms full of files to be sorted). Her eyes snap back to the rest of the office, eyes flickering over each face and desk in search for either of her friends. It seems Ted's office is empty, the lights off and the desk tidied, so Liz heads for her own, hoping to find the others in passing.
Her stomach drops in disappointment when she eventually reaches her door, neither of her two best friends anywhere to be seen. Letting go of her suitcase, Liz unlocks her office door, swinging it open to place her belongings inside. Hastily dumping the files on the desk and hanging her jacket on the back of the guest chair on her way back out, Liz closes the door behind her, heading over to Maneet while keeping an eye out for any sign of them.
"Hey, Maneet," she beams, coming to stand beside the other woman as she makes herself a tea, "How are you?"
"I'm great, yourself?" the kind woman smiles, "How was London?"
"Oh, yes it was good," she smiles back, unsure what else to say, "How is the pregnancy going? Are you coping?"
Maneet ducks her head, looking to the bump of her belly, which Liz notes has grown rather significantly since she last saw her, "Really well, yeah. Except for the back-ache."
The two women share a quiet laugh as Maneet continues, "And the bizarre cravings for pickles."
Liz scrunches her nose, "I'm glad you're doing well. If there is ever anything you need you know where to find me."
Maneet shakes her head, humoured at the woman's familiarly constant offer, "I know, thanks."
Liz turns her head, once again observing the room, "Have you seen Kate or Steve anywhere? I'm assuming Ted has already left."
"He left about an hour ago," Maneet explains, finishing stirring her cup of tea, "Steve should be here though, think he is still in the interview room. Kate shouldn't be but I think I saw her."
Liz raises a questioning brow at that, though is relieved to hear they may both be in the building somewhere and she can see them tonight.
"She's undercover again," Maneet explains after a sip of her tea.
Liz deflates. Again?
That means she may not get to see Kate as much as she hoped. She has only just got back!
Undercover? What for?
"I should finish this and go," Maneet says, taking another gulp of her tea and stepping away, "Haresh might be waiting up and he has school tomorrow. Good to see you again, Liz."
"And you," Liz waves as the woman walks away, then moves aimlessly over to where Steve and Kate's empty desks are.
Chewing her bottom lip, Liz leans against Steve's, unsure what to do with herself until either of her friends showed themselves. She had her files to sort, office to rearrange and emails to respond to. But they could wait, likely taking too long to start now anyway.
She waits for a few moments, glancing briefly at his computer screen. Something about Trapdoor and Polk Avenue displayed there. But before she can read further, she hears him.
Steve! Her heart jumps.
"-I know you're on days off, but I need you to return my calls," Liz hears his voice say from somewhere on the opposite side of the office. She fails to find him, realising he must be approaching down the corridor by the way his voice is getting louder, "We are looking deeper into the evidence on the Farmer case and I need your input-"
Seve turns the corner, Liz immediately rising from his desk as she spots him, watching eagerly as he makes his way through the other desks. He is on the phone, gaze lowered to the floor and that characteristic frown creasing his brow. Liz feels a small smile grow on her face as she watches him walk her way, unaware she is even there.
"Thanks again for the biometrics, they worked a treat, mate," Steve says down the phone, "Call me, ok?"
He ends the call, sighing as he puts his phone into his pocket.
That's when he looks up and sees her. Stood by his desk. Smiling at him.
"Lizzie," he finds himself smiling, pace increasing to a casual hurry to approach her, "I didn't know you were back!"
Liz takes a few paces forward, helping to close the distance between them until they were only a step away., "Hi!"
Steve feels himself beam wider as she smiles over at him, his heart pounding happily to see her again. It had only been a month, but after all the time they had spent together over the last six months after everything, it had been difficult for him. He hopes for both of them. Not that he is brave enough to voice it, for whatever reason, but he had missed her. And by the way she is grinning at him now, eyes gleaming, it seems she had missed him too.
His chest swells at the thought.
His smile falters in a slight panic when she takes a quick step closer, her arms entangling themselves around his shoulders, though the grin returns, wider if possible, when he melts into her hold. His own hands hook under her arms to rest on her back. He almost forgets there are still others sat at the desks surrounding them.
Steve can feel her chin rest on his shoulder as her arms tighten in a slight squeeze around him, her light voice tickling at his neck, "How are you?"
"Fine," he responds bluntly, regrettably pulling away from the embrace to look at her, though his hands remain on her waist for a moment and hers on his shoulders, "And yourself? How did it go?"
Their hands finally drop to their sides, though the feeling lingers, buzzing through them, "Really well, actually. At least, I think so. They seemed really interested in my research. Wanted a review of my result data to help consider the structure of possible questions to be used in initial meetings for employee profiles. So, I think they were happy. That they like it."
"Of course they do!" Steve exclaims with a bright grin, pride bursting for her, "It's brilliant and you've worked so hard. Anyone can see and admire that."
"Thank you," she murmurs.
Liz blushes, looking bashfully to her feet and swaying awkwardly under his pleased gaze. That is something he has done a lot recently. Praising her. Reminding her of how much he supports her, is there for her, believes in her. It makes her nerves tingle, the effort he is putting in to making her believe in herself. And to what would be his delight if she is ever bold enough to admit it, it might just be working. Even if only a little.
Steve sighs, though is still smiling, "You should have said you were coming back tonight, I could have picked you up from the station."
"I would have called but I didn't even know myself that I was finished until this morning."
"Well, it's alright, you're back now."
The pair continue to smile at one another, neither sure what else to say. Neither even sure what else matters beyond this moment. That she is back. With him.
"Have you been home yet?"
Steve regrets asking as soon as it leaves his mouth, having been unsure what else to say.
He watches as she tenses, only evident from the slightest raise of her shoulders and clenching of her fist. He doubts many others would have noticed the faintest twitch of her lips as her smile falters, Lizzie trying her best to act indifferent. But he knows her better than that.
"No, not yet," she responds, honestly, though attempting to sound unbothered despite the minute crack of her voice. But Steve catches it, seeing right through her.
She had stayed at his for another night after visiting Ted all those months ago, after the Hurrell attack. He had decided to sleep on the sofa as she slept in his bed, to give her some privacy and good rest before he drove her back to her flat the next day. Steve had been called to say all evidence was gathered and her flat cleaned up so she could move back in. He had hesitated to offer to take her back, both unsure of her response and, admittedly, a little selfishly unwilling to let her go just yet. Lizzie would go quiet whenever he did mention it, but would timidly nod in agreement she should go back.
He had offered to stay with her that first night she moved back into her home, unnerved by the way she gazed distractedly at the spot on the floor that man had her pinned when the first walked in. But she declined, thanking him for having "done enough already". By the time he had finished making her a hot chocolate, he found her passed out in her bed. Pulling the sheets tighter around her and tucking some stray hairs behind her ear and away from her neck, Steve left her apartment quietly that night.
Liz could not lie and say she was not disappointed to see he was gone. That she hoped he would have stayed despite her protest. But it was not him she was disappointed in, more herself for pretending she was ok. She was far from it. Liz considered calling him many times in the weeks after, eventually berating herself for being such a coward when she was unable to do so. How would that conversation go? Her sounding so pitiful and weak, asking the man to stay at hers overnight, or, more shameful, her at his. Besides, he was a busy man. Steve had a social life, was trying to get on with life despite his own experience. He didn't have the time to babysit her. He didn't need her stresses on top of his own. And they were friends, that's all. How do you admit to a friend that you're struggling despite insisting you were not? That you only feel comfortable around them? That the safest you have felt since everything happened was that night asleep in their arms? No, that would be pathetic.
And so, she never called him for that reason. Unaware he was also struggling to sleep alone in his apartment, considering to call her every night yet refusing to do so for the same, stubborn reasons.
From then on, things continued almost as normal. Himself, Liz and Kate would bury themselves in work, often going for coffees and drinks to catch up and relax. Liz resumed appointments after about a week, almost seeing to take on more than usual - which was an awful lot to begin with. Steve almost wanted to say something, about how she always seemed to be at the office now - but he recognised it was likely her way of distracting herself, of not having to be alone in her flat with only her thoughts for company.
He wishes she knew he understands. That even the small things that seem so objectively insignificant can become overwhelming. It is just a flat, yes. But hurtful memories are now embedded into the space. Memories of her deceased cast, Saoirse. Or of the Hurrell break in and attack. Or of Dot and their time together. Their kiss. Steve had felt something similar in his own apartment after Sam left, even the office brought back memories that made his stomach churn, and he is sure it is the same for Lizzie.
But he never wanted to force her. No one should force someone else to confront their pain. Grief was a funny thing, sometimes taking months, even years, to settle. Lizzie had taught him that years ago with the whole Ali incident. So Steve knew she would come to him when she was ready, if she ever was. All he could do in the meantime was show her that he is there, in whatever way she needs him to be.
"I was about to head off soon, could drop you back?" Steve asks, trying to sound indifferent and not like he caught her brief panic.
She chews her lip anxiously and he deflates at the way her eyes darken slightly, her hands wringing together, "It's alright, I still have some files in my office to sort. Maybe we can catch up properly tomorrow? Grab a coffee?"
"Sure," he says, still trying to not sound as dejected as he feels at the ways she has closed off again.
Lizzie nods, eyes dropping to the floor as she begins to turn away. But Steve calls out for her, not wanting to leave the reunion on a soured note, not so soon after getting her back.
"Good to have you back," Steve says with a small, sincere grin. He sees her shoulders relax slightly, a small smile of her own brightening her gaze.
He nods and watches as she walks away to her office, closing the door behind her with one last small smile in his direction. With a sigh, he takes a seat at his desk, giving his reports a few last glances over before calling it a night. Admittedly, he also wants to stick around to keep an eye on Liz.
Liz sighs herself as she leans against her office door for a moment. She rakes a clawed hand through her hair as she moves to sit down, surprised that her shaky legs managed to carry her for so long on the way over.
Why did I do that? Why do I keep on doing this? She berates herself.
It was pathetic, really, in her mind. That she allowed herself to become so overwhelmed by something so insignificant. She had hoped she would be over all that by now. That she didn't get so bothered by such silly things. Her flat is her flat, no matter what happened there. The office is the office, no matter who she used to know there. She should be able to sleep with the lights off in her own apartment. She should be able to walk past his old desk without shuddering and quickening her pace.
Why should you? that little, rational voice whispers to her. After everything you have been through, why should you not be allowed to grieve?
She beats it down, forces it to quiet. Her head hurts enough without allowing rationality and objectivity to aggravate it.
She thought going to London for a few weeks might make a difference. Clear her head, a change of scenery and pace. To have some distance and fully throw herself into her work. But it seems not.
Liz lets out a short, bitter scoff. She preaches to all her clients how conversation and openness is the best way to process and eventually overcome trauma. That you shouldn't hide away from it, but confront it. Yet here she was, ignoring her own advice. What a hypocrite.
Maybe, deep down, she wants to suffer. Maybe even thinks she deserves it. After all, she should have told someone about what was happening with the letters and Saoirse. Hurrell would not have gotten so close to her if she had just been honest and told someone. And Dot… she should have known. She could have helped. Stopped what happened from happening. But she didn't. She was selfish and ignorant and stupid and-
No. Enough.
Liz shakes her head, not allowing herself to fall into that now achingly familiar spiral.
In return, as always when she wishes to turn her thoughts away from herself, she begins to think of Steve.
He didn't deserve her being so closed off and unresponsive. Not after everything he has done for her. Everything he has been through himself. He needs her as much as she needs him, and she knows he knows that too.
Transparency was a terrifying thought. They agreed to not keep secrets, having experienced so much difficulty in the past because of it. But to be wholeheartedly honest with someone about yourself… to open yourself to them completely… that's something else entirely.
She trusts him. Of course she does. Likely more than anyone else.
But that isn't what holds her back. No, it is the thought of whether she trusts herself.
Liz is unsure why, her thoughts deciding to almost switch off whenever she tries to comprehend her reasoning to distrust herself so much. Selfishness, vanity, guilt - all briefly crossing her mind.
Steve would not hear of it, she is sure. Assure her he is there for her, wants to be there for her. Not out of necessity or the feeling of her being owed after being there for him, both professionally and as a friend.
But after being so hurt by others, and the feeling of blaming herself - how can she trust anyone with that? With her honesty? With many things, Liz is sure she is not being honest with herself. Though what exactly is a difficult thing to determine with her head constantly swimming with destructive thoughts.
Of guilt, worthlessness, punishment-
No. Enough.
Liz berates herself again, as she has taught herself to do so efficiently over the last six months.
Reaching over her desk for the collection of files, Liz immediately snaps herself into work-mode, opening up the first and analysing the content.
Distraction. It helps. For now, at least.
Liz looks up from her fourth file when she hears a knock at her door, "Come in!"
She steels herself, concerned it will be Steve coming to confront her about her closing off to him earlier and ruining their reunion. She relaxes when the door opens to reveal Kate smiling over at her.
Liz stands from her chair, throwing the file down to approach her friend with a wide smile of her own, enveloping the woman in a hug of which is eagerly returned.
"Maneet said you were back," Kate grins into her ear, arms still circled around her, "Good to see you!"
"And you!" Liz says stepping back, "Wasn't sure if you were here or not, Maneet mentioned something about undercover work?"
Liz watches as Kate shrugs, "It was necessary for this new case."
"I thought you would be too busy for that kind of thing now. You know, being a DS and all that," Liz grins, still proud of her friend's recent achievement, "How is that going by the way?"
"Not so bad, everyone has been super supportive. Almost as if not much has changed, just people are forced to listen to me now."
"And thank goodness for that," Liz jokes, but meaning it, "Everyone has so much respect for you already. Rightfully so! Just glad the high-ups are finally realising your value here. Not sure what took them so long."
Kate just shakes her head with a humble smile.
"How's Steve been taking it? Having another DS around?" Liz lowers her voice, aware the man is still sitting at his desk despite having said he was going to leave over an hour ago.
Kate's gaze flicks to his back turned toward them before rolling her eyes, "I'm sure you can imagine."
Liz could imagine. She deflates at the thought. There were many things she admired about the man she called her best friend. But he had a habit of letting his pride get in the way. And they had all seen the trouble that could get him, and them, into.
Kate does not seem too bothered by whatever he had said, so Liz decides not to press on about it. Knowing he is trying his best to work on it and also feeling wrong talking about him quite literally behind his back, Liz decides against commenting other than, "Well, you know where to find me if it gets too much."
Kate nods, turning to see the man, as if he could feel his ears burning, looking over his shoulder at them. The two women send him a small smile, prompting him to rise from his desk and walk over.
He nods at Kate when he approaches, "I didn't know you were in."
Kat nods back, "Just listened to the DIR of your interview with Huntley."
Liz frowns slightly, still unsure what this new case was all about but decides against asking until they can properly fill her in when they have the time.
Steve shifts on his feet as Kate continues, "She isn't the first SIO to buff evidence."
"She took it badly," Steve shrugs, though looks uncomfortable under the weight of Kate's seemingly accusational glare.
"Is that how it seemed to you?" Kate scoffs, quietly incredulous.
Liz balks at the tension between her two friends, folding her arms as if to shield herself from whatever underlying irritation enlisted between them. What is going on?
Steve stays quiet, only somewhat glaring back at Kate. Kate raises a challenging brow at his silence.
"Ahhh congratulations!" a voice approaching them breaks the tense silence, much to Liz's relief. Maneet walks past, beaming at Kate.
"Oh, thanks, Maneet," Kate smiles back.
"What's that?" Steve asks, voicing Liz's question too.
"Only gone and passed the National Inspectors' Exam," Maneet grins as she slows her pace before sending one last smile to Kate and continuing with her work.
Liz gasps, a smile breaking onto her face and an arm coming to pat her friends', "Kate, congratulations!"
"Uh, yeah, congratulations," Steve also says, though confusion is laced within his tone.
Kate looks between them, an expression somewhere between gratitude and awkwardness etched onto her face, "Thanks."
"I didn't know you'd entered," Steve shrugs, still slightly frowning but obviously proud of his friend.
"Well, I kept quiet in case I went down in flames," Kate shrugs, looking at her feet, "I know it's a bit soon but I took so long getting my act together to make DS, I'm not going to let things slide."
"You're coming up on the rails," Steve jokes, "Better-"
"Yeah, you'd-"
"Better watch out," the two DS' say simultaneously to the other, sharing an awkward laugh between them at their jest.
Liz smiles too, though still bristles under the awkward tension lingering around them in the air. Kate had not said much about this new dynamic shift due to her promotion, but Liz is sure this has changed things. It shouldn't have to. They don't want it to. But it will.
Steve has been a DS for years, eager for some sort of promotion to further his career that has otherwise been on one note for so long. Liz thinks also, somewhere, is that refuelled desire of his to prove himself, something he must feel so fervently (and, as she has stressed, unnecessarily) after what happened with the Caddy accusations and his arrest. Having had everyone turn against him the way they had, no matter how justified, must have proved his insecurities right to some extent. That people would lose faith in him so quickly. A promotion would bring about the validation he needs, not just in his professional career but about judgements of his character.
Liz is sure any comment he has made at the detriment of Kate's promotion to his same standing as DS and possibly overtaking him to win the DI promotion, is nothing personal to Kate's character. Rather an untameable resentment towards his own insecurity. Steve was a brash man, an impulsive one. Always has been and likely always will be. So Liz can understand. But to Kate, despite knowing him so well herself, it is understandable how that can irk her. How it can seem to be jealousy or an underestimation of her. It could never be anything of the sort, both Liz and Kate herself know how much Steve cares for the woman. But when Kate is already feeling pressure and insecure about her own standing, as is natural with such a dramatic dynamic change, it must be awful to hear any sort of suggested hesitation to her success from a friend.
But Liz could see it in the way he congratulated her, that he really is happy for his friend. Steve has proved himself to be one of the most loyal and supportive people either of the women know. Liz only hopes he does not let that pride ruin their progress…
"I'm so happy to hear it!" Liz beams again, diffusing the tension slightly.
"Yeah, well done, mate," Steve smiles, sincerely, to Liz's relief.
"Cheers," Kate nods, "Planning on telling the boss tomorrow if he doesn't know already."
"He'll be so pleased," Liz assures, seeing her friend seems humbly apprehensive, "We should get a drink, celebrate."
Kate shakes her head, "Would love to, but I'm on my undercover's shift pattern. Should be heading off to catch some sleep. Sorry!"
"No worries, maybe some other time," Liz smiles, "Goodnight Kate!"
"Goodnight, mate," Steve says too as the other woman walks off with a wave.
They watch as she leaves.
"So, that drink still on the cards?" he says with a smirk, turning to her.
"Let's go," Liz nods with a smirk of her own.
"So, Kate is undercover again?" Liz asks as they take a seat with their drinks at one of the booths in the pub.
Steve nods, "Yeah, her idea this time actually."
"I thought she wanted to take a break from that sort of thing, spend some more time with Josh," Liz inquires, taking a sip of her wine.
The man sighs, swigging his beer, "You would have to ask her, if you can catch her."
Liz nods, assuming Steve has not been able to see her much himself because of her undercover shift patterns. She wants to ask about what had happened before, the tension between her two friends. But she decides she has already ruined the mood between them both once this evening when freezing about her flat.
"You said in a text it was something to do with Roz Huntley? That DCI from Polk Avenue? I assume it is to do with that arrest in the Leonie Collersdale case..."
Steve hums, that familiar frown creasing his brow, "Had a visit from Tim Ifield the other night, a forensic on that case. Says earrings found at the scene of the kidnapping confirmed to belong to the third surviving victim were supposedly kept with two other sets of items belonging to the other murdered victims."
"Supposedly?"
"Well, apparently Ifield ordered environmental profiles on the three items. The hair grip and necklace also found bore the same pattern of carpet fibre deposits, which can be used to-"
"To estimate how long an item has been in said location," Liz smiles, remembering from her training all those years ago.
Steve smiles, "Exactly. But no carpet deposits were found on any of the items connecting the crime scene to the previous victims. None of the suspect's DNA either."
"You think they were planted there?" Liz asks, catching on.
Steve nods, playing with the label on his beer bottle, "There is also a spare footprint. One was found that doesn't match the resident, Michael Farmer - the guy who has been arrested. Or any of the people signed onto the scene after it was cordoned. Tim thinks it proves someone else was in the house at the time of the offence."
"And what do you think?"
"I think it is worth looking into," he shrugs, "Tim says he has brought it up to Huntley who is the SIO on Trapdoor. Apparently been rather insistent on it, but she doesn't want to know. He worries they have charged an innocent man and that Huntley is not just aware of that but eager to keep things quiet."
Liz swigs some more of her wine, "Can you trust him? You don't think he has a motive to accuse her?"
"Too early to call, but the man has fifteen years of experience and was even promoted to grade G two years ago for first-class performance."
"Well, we both know accolades don't mean anything," Liz mumbles darkly, taking a larger gulp of her drink.
Steve's frown deepens. That was so unlike Lizzie. Or at least, it used to be. How can he blame her, after everything, that she has a difficult time trusting anyone now? Rather than believing the best as she once had.
He is unsure what to say,
"So what have you looked into so far? Kate said she watched back your interview with her?" Liz asks, realising she had brought the mood down a little - again.
"Yeah, uh, well Roz has no history of misconduct or corruption allegations, her team are also clean," Steve explains, "And they have no links to the suspect in the database. I, personally, think it seems reasonably cut and dry despite Ifield's concerns. Michael Farmer is a registered sex offender and the trophies linked to the previous victims were found in his home. Even Hastings seemed reluctant to investigate this one. But Kate said the way we treat Tim's claims speaks volumes about anyone that witnesses corruption or is in two minds about coming forward."
"And she's right," Liz nods.
Steve huffs, humoured, "Yeah, well, now she's a DS it makes sense she is concerned with how things look."
Liz ignores what sounds like a dig at her friends disguised as a joke. No wonder Kate seems bothered by him lately if his reaction to her promotion has been full of microaggressions.
"Well, more importantly, there is a young man who might go to prison for a crime he didn't commit," Lizzie continues.
"Yeah, exactly," Steve agrees, "Which is why we are looking into it and Kate is undercover at Polk as 'DS Kate Flynn'."
"Wow, those names really do get more and more creative, huh?" Liz sniggers, Steve responding the same, "So what did Huntley have to say for herself?"
"I saw Tim again and he said if Michael had abducted that girl, bundling her into the car and dragging her into his place, then there would be some of his clothing fibres found on her clothing, right? But there were none. The only fibres found on Hana were black fibres from a cotton and polyester blend."
"Like that balaclava the suspect wears? I saw that CCTV image on the news."
"Exactly. And while Farmer may have changed before he was arrested, there were no fibres found in his hair. Also using that CCTV image you mentioned, some sort of high-tech system used their estimated height to work out balaclava-man's shoe size would be 10, Michael is size 8. Ifield says Roz is too clever to have missed any of that."
"And is she? Do you think so?"
Steve shrugs, "She certainly likes to think so. Still insists Michael's guilt. We even put to her that he is an emotionally and intellectually vulnerable individual, he even got a detail wrong during questioning. But Huntley pretty much brushed that off, saying anyone was capable of anything."
Liz hums again, taking it all in, "What's the next step?"
"I have been trying to get hold of Tim, see if he has anything else we can use that might help. But he hasn't been responding to my calls. Might try stopping by his flat tomorrow," Steve explains.
Liz nods, allowing everything just explained to settle.
"Anyway, how was London?" Steve asks, wanting to lighten the mood as well as find out more about Lizzie's trip.
"Good, yeah, ran into an old friend of yours actually," Liz smirks, smugly.
"Oh yeah? Who?" Steve balks.
"Thomas Haller?"
"You met Tom?" Steve exclaims, sitting forward eagerly, "How? What's he up to?"
"Yeah, we got talking at a bar after my stationed unit's shift ended one night. He was so nice!"
Steve's smile falters slightly. Liz doesn't catch it.
Liz smiles, reaching into her bag for her phone, "I said I would give you his number if you were interested in-"
"You got his number?"
Liz pauses, turning to the man beside her with a questioning gaze. His eyes widen slightly, as if he is as surprised at his question as she is, before he looks away to the bottle in his lap, finding sudden keen interest in picking at the label again.
"Uh, yeah," Liz brushes off, ignoring the way her stomach has fallen, "He said he remembers you from training. Is interested in meeting if you're ever in the city or he comes up here!"
"How did I come up in conversation?"
"Oh, well, he was asking about me and my work and your name came up somewhere," Liz rushes, finding herself blushing.
Steve allows himself to smile, endeared that she spoke of him while speaking about herself. That had to count for something. Right?
So why did his throat still feel so dry?
Tommy Haller had been one of his good friends during training, he was, as Lizzie said, a nice guy. Things had been hectic after graduating and they had lost contact for years. Until now it seems, after Lizzie ran into him… at a bar… where he gave her his number…
"Did he say much about me?" Steve asks her, hoping to stop wherever that train of thought was leading.
"Nothing too incriminating, don't worry," Liz chuckles, Steve doing the same, both relieved the atmosphere has lightened between them again, "And I have something for you."
"Oh yeah?" Steve asks as he watches her reach into her bag again.
"Yeah, Thomas helped me find it! That's why I got his number, to arrange a pick up," Lizzie explains, rummaging in her bag with an excited smile, "Here."
She pulls out a piece of paper of some sort, handing it to him, her hand almost shaking with excited anticipation at his reaction.
Steve looks at it curiously, taking it from her, his expression still bewildered. He turns it around to see his name printed clearly on it, fancy text and a Met logo in the corner, "My graduation certificate?"
Lizzie lets out a small sort of squeal, "Yes!"
Steve stares at the piece of paper, a small smile on his face. Liz scoots closer to him along the booth to look at it too, her gaze flicking eagerly between it and his face to gouge his reaction.
"I remember you said you couldn't find it when packing up your bunk all those years ago, so asked Thomas to look into it for me, as he was there too. Someone found it in one of the drawers," Lizzie beams proudly.
"Lizzie, that's-" Steve lets out a bewildered laugh, "that's so kind of you. Thank you!"
"You're welcome!" Lizzie grins, placing her arm on his.
Steve's smile widens as he turns to look at her, blinking slightly when he realises how close she has moved towards him. This is the happiest he has seen her in a while, so indulges in a slightly longer look than is probably usual, "You really shouldn't have gone to the trouble, it's- it's just a piece of paper."
"Yeah, but a piece of paper you worked hard for!" Liz pats his arm, rubbing it gently and encouragingly.
The comment bothers her more than it probably should. Liz assumes it is something to do with his parents, how he has never felt good enough. Or maybe that's just her reading into things too much, as she usually does. Steve is probably just being modest, as he is learning to be more so, his arrogance having gotten him into so much trouble.
"Wouldn't say I worked hard, more pissed about and filled a gap they needed filling," Steve shrugs, though not too harshly as to move her hand from his upper arm.
He almost wishes he had done when Lizzie's hand tightens around it, her face falling into what he thinks she thinks is threatening, "If you say one more self-deprecating comment, I will hit you so hard your ancestors will be dizzy, got it?"
The two stare at each-other for a moment before Steve bursts out laughing. Liz tries to hold her nerve and keep her face stubborn, her eyes squinted and nose scrunched. But seeing Steve lean forward, hand coming to hold his creasing stomach, sets her off too. Her face splits into a giggle. She moves to rest her head on Steve's shoulder. Maybe it is the wine, maybe it is the fact this is the first time the pair have laughed like this in - god, who knows? But they make the most of the moment, allowing themselves to have fun, even if it is somewhat delirious.
"Hey, I mean it!" Lizzie says between laughs as she sits back up, trying to regain composure, "Stop laughing at me, I am trying to berate you!"
"Sorry- sorry, it's just-," Steve laughs again, wiping his eye, "You could not be intimidating if you tried!"
"I am trying! You're just making fun of me!"
Steve continues laughing despite her hitting him playfully on the shoulder and begging him to stop, remembering the way her nose had scrunched. It was… cute.
That thought sobers him immediately, his laughs ceasing. He just continues to stare at Lizzie as she giggles into her glass of wine, taking another gulp.
He really has missed her.
"Do you want to come back to mine?"
He watches as Lizzie chokes, her wine glass landing rather violently against the table in front of them. She wipes her mouth as his heart pounds, his face heating as he wonders:
WHAT THE F*CK WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU JUST SAY THAT?! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING AT ALL?! WHY WOULD YOU-
"I- I didn't mean- I just thought-" Steve stutters, shifting awkwardly in his seat and turning away from the woman, not able or wanting to catch her eye, "I just meant, I haven't seen you in a few weeks and it would be good to catch up and this place is almost closing soon and you must be tired from the journey and work and my place is closer and I thought maybe you would want to have a drink back at mine, I didn't mean for it to sound like-"
"I would love to," he hears her say, timid yet sure.
His head snaps to her, seeing Lizzie stare at him wide-eyed yet smiling, trying to assure him, "You're right, I would love to keep catching up. I'll get this last round on the tab."
Steve watches, pleasantly perplexed, as she stands from the table and heads to the bar with her purse.
Lizzie cannot help the smile on her face as she walks away from him to the bar. Her hands play nervously with the zip of her purse as she leans against it, waiting for someone to come to her so she can pay.
She had hoped deep down he would ask - not in that way. No, he didn't mean it like that. He never would, not with her. No. Liz knew he didn't mean it like that when he asked, she only reacted that way because she was relieved. She would rather be back at his with him than alone in her flat tonight. She was planning on asking him to come to hers when he walked her home anyway.
"So, you want another drink?" Steve asks as he closes the door behind them, throwing his keys onto the side and heading to the kitchen.
"Uh, sure! I'll have some more wine if you have any?" Lizzie smiles, placing her own bag on the table as she stands awkwardly in his hallway.
"Yeah, great. I'll grab some glasses, make yourself at home," Steve invites, calling from the fridge.
"Thank you!" Lizzie calls back, moving into the living space and taking a seat on the sofa.
She removes her shoes, taking a look around the familiar space before leaning back in the seat.
"Red or white?" she hears Steve call to her.
"Whatever you fancy!" she shouts back.
"So where should I put it?" Steve asks as he walks back in, placing the two glasses and bottle in front of where she is sitting but not taking a seat yet himself.
Lizzie thanks him, "Put what?"
He walks over to the table, picking something up and moving to his display case by the television, "I was thinking here? Could get a frame for it."
As he moves aside, she sees it is his certificate. That makes Liz smile, "Yeah, looks good."
He smiles back over his shoulder before resting it on the shelf where he wants to place it, propping it up against the back so it is visible. Steve then moves back to the sofa, taking one more look at it over his shoulder before sitting beside Lizzie. She reaches for the bottle, pouring them both a glass and passing him his.
Steve tips his to hers, the glasses meeting in the middle before both taking a swig. They lean back on the sofa, arms touching.
The conversation flows for a few more hours, catching up on everything that they have missed - even if they did call every other day for the last few weeks.
Eventually, they fall asleep. Together on the sofa. Lizzie's head resting on his shoulder, tucked into his side. Steve's arm around her waist, holding her there.
And it is the best either of them have slept in weeks.