Thank you, as always, to everyone who has read this fic so far and supported it in whichever way you have! Those of you who go out of your way to comment make my day, it means so much to me! A bit shorter than the majority of other chapter and I am not too happy with it but I hope you enjoy!

"That's my girl," Ted beams proudly as he looks at the young woman sitting opposite him, sipping humbly at her tea.

Liz blushes into her mug at her godfather's appraisal. She had filled him in on how well her meetings had gone in London over the last few weeks and he couldn't have looked happier for her. The older man had always been so supportive of her and her work, especially so in the last year. That irritating irrationality of hers would whisper cruelly in her ear that it was just because he pitied her after everything that went down, and that's why he would pretend to be so enthusiastic. But over the months, she had learnt not to give in to that voice's incessant begging for attention.

"And how have you been? Steve filled me in on what's happening with the Huntley case," Liz deflects the attention from herself, her stomach fluttering slightly remembering the last time she saw her friend.

She had woken this morning to find herself leaning against him on his sofa, him waking at her movement at the same time. They looked at each-other for a short moment before sharing a quiet laugh, blaming the drink and work stress for making them so sleepy the night before. Both had expected it to be awkward, but it was anything but. They simply ate breakfast (Steve made her those scrambled eggs he had become so good at), had a coffee, walked to her flat so she could shower and change, before arriving at work and going their own ways. It was nice.

Steve had to run off, heading to Tim Ifield's flat to check in on the man who had been ignoring his calls. Lizzie had worked on catching up with her emails before heading straight for Ted's office when the man appeared later that afternoon, wanting to catch up with him.

"Not bad, Beth," Ted sighs, "That Huntley is a sly one."

"Steve had said you weren't sure about investigating to begin with. What changed?"

Ted smiles to himself, amused this was the fifth time the girl had mentioned that man in the last half an hour, though decides against mentioning it and embarrassing her, "Well, she's hiding something. Way too stubborn. I don't like her attitude at all."

"What do you mean?"

"Well at that Ifield's flat-"

"Ifield? Why were you at his flat?"

Ted frowns, "Steve found him this morning. He's dead."

Liz's eyes widen as she sets her mug down, "What? Is Steve alright?"

Hastings raises his hand to quiet her, putting her at some ease, "Steve's fine, yeah. And we aren't sure yet. Nasty looking murder though. Visible neck laceration and three of his fingers taken off, nowhere to be seen."

"Christ," Liz mutters, shaking her head.

"Anyway, she had the nerve to chide me for calling her 'darling' like that's any sort of issue."

Liz groans at the man's comment.

"What?" he says, frown deepening, already defensively, "What is so offensive about that?"

"I mean, she could have many reasons but, as a woman, I think gendered language should be avoided, especially in the workplace."

"But why is a little name like that derogatory? Is being a woman something to be offended by?"

Liz laughs, humourlessly, at his dramatics and ignorance. She knows he does not mean it. He is just of the older generation, and an Irish Catholic at that.

"No, not at all," Liz sighs, thinking how best to put it for him, "Gendered language like those pet names can often imply men are devaluing women to just their sex. Almost making a point of them being a woman. It shouldn't matter at all."

"I didn't mean anything by it."

"No, I know you didn't. But others might not. It can often be interpreted as condescending, so maybe try to avoid using those kinds of nicknames," Liz suggests, softly so the man knows she isn't angry. Edward Hastings was known to take things rather personally and react so stubbornly to any sort of criticism.

Ted just nods, clearly thinking it all over.

There is a knock at the door then.

"Come in," Hastings invites.

Liz stands as a young man walks in, close to Liz's own age. He smiles brightly at the two of them before introducing himself, "DC Jamie Desford, I have just been assigned to AC-12. Was told to report to you."

"Ah, yes, James. Come in," Ted greets with a smile, the young man closing the door behind him and moving into the room, "I am Superintendent Ted Hastings, like the battle. Pleasure to have you on board."

"Thank you for having me," Jamie smiles as he shakes the Superintendent's hand. The young man's eyes then flick curiously yet sweetly over to the woman in the room.

"James, this is Elizabeth Thornton," Ted introduces happily, "She's our assigned counsellor and wellbeing officer. She's not officially assigned to any cases with us but is there to keep us all sane."

Liz chuckles politely and reaches her hand out, Jamie taking it in a firm shake, "Nice to meet you, DC Desford. I will have to fit you in sometime for an initial meeting, just to get you familiar with myself and what I can offer."

"That would be great, yeah. Just give me a shout whenever," Jamie smirks, rather flirty if Liz were bold enough to say so. She blushes slightly under his intense, yet not intimidating, gaze as their hands lower.

Ted looks between the two, a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips which concerns Liz. She fears she has seen that look before.

"Beth, you wouldn't be a darlin'-"

Liz sends him a slight glare, reminding him of their previous conversation not even ten minutes ago.

Ted clears his throat, realising his mistake, "and show this fella the office, would you? Introduce him to Steve while you're there?"

"Yeah, sure," Liz smiles, moving to the door, "If you want to follow me?"

"Lead the way," Jamie almost sings, in what seems to be a signature sultry cheeriness, following after her.

"We will catch up a little later, son," Hastings calls as Jamie nods and closes the door behind them.

"So," Desford drawls, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he moves to walk beside her, taking an exaggerated look around the room, "This is the infamous AC-12."

Liz lets out a short laugh, "Yeah, guess we have made quite a name for ourselves."

Jamie shares the laugh, handsomely, as they slowly move between some desks.

"Does it live up to your expectations?" Liz teases.

"Surpasses," Jamie smirks, looking down at her with a playful look, causing Liz to blush again under the suggestive weight of it.

She clears her throat, snapping her gaze away, "Not sure where Hastings wants your desk assigned but there are a few empty ones over there, am sure you can just mark your territory wherever you want and people won't mind."

"Sounds good," Jamie nods, looking over to where she gestured to.

"Ah, there he is," Liz smiles, moving quickly over to a desk, Jamie following hastily to catch up, "Steve!"

Steve lifts his head from his computer when hearing her call for him, pushing his chair back to see her approach with a young man following behind her. He gives her a small smile when they reach him, Liz resting a hand on the back of his chair as she gestures to the other man.

"DC Jamie Desford, this is DS Steve Arnott," Liz grins down at her friend, "Hastings is putting you both together on the Huntley inquiry."

Liz watches as Steve's face falls slightly, into a look of perplexion. Jamie just stares awkwardly back, hands still in pockets, noting the look of confusion set on the other man's brow.

"Jamie is here to help," Liz stresses, casually, but Steve's face does not change.

Jamie looks between the other two, awkwardly before resting another easy smile on his lips, "Well, it's good to be working with you, Steve."

Liz smiles at him encouragingly, glad at least someone is trying to be civil despite not having reason not to be - unlike someone…

"All right to call you Steve?" Jamie asks, politely.

"We'll see," the man glares from his chair, flinching slightly as Liz has moved her hand to his shoulder, gripping it warningly.

Jamie just nods, eyes moving to Liz who gives him an apologetic glance before looking down to Steve and raising a question brow. Steve only shrugs, turning back to his computer.

Liz lowers her hand from his shoulder, stepping back to Jamie, "I'll introduce you to the others."

"Cheers," Jamie says, moving eagerly after her.

Liz sends a glance back to Steve, who is watching the two walk away. She watches as he suddenly stands from his desk, heading to Hastings' office, no doubt to whine about having a new DC in the office, for whatever reason. Jamie seems to notice the man's movement too, catching on to where he is headed and likely why. Liz places a reassuring hand on his arm to lead him over to the other desks and regain his attention.

"Maneet, this is Jamie, our newest DC," Liz smiles, trying to ignore the temptation to strain her hearing as to what is being said in Ted's office.

"Nice to meet you," the woman smiles, extending a hand, friendly as ever.

"And you," Jamie shakes her hand with a smile himself.

"So, first day," Maneet says to him, "How are you getting on?"

"Yeah, good," Jamie shrugs, politely, then gesturing to her protruding stomach, "So, when is it due?"

Liz watches as Maneet's face falls, "What? You're saying I look pregnant?"

Jamie stutters, his eyes wide in panic, "No, no I-"

"Just kidding, of course I am," Maneet jokes, a wide teasing smile spreading across her face, "Due end of June."

Liz laughs too, watching as the young man sighs in relief with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and looking between the two women.

"Glad to see some friendly faces around here," Jamie mutters, rather pointedly looking over his shoulder to Ted's office where Steve could be seen talking to the Superintendent.

"Ignore him," Liz rolls her eyes, "He can be a salty little man sometimes."

"What for?"

"Hastings forgets to tell people things on occasion, so I am sure it was just a bit of a surprise to him," Liz tries to excuse, "Steve can get very… involved in the cases. I think the idea of him having to train a new investigator alongside actually investigating probably throws him a bit. He likes to take it all on himself, but I am sure after a while he will warm up to you. Sorry about that."

Jamie shakes his head dismissively, "Don't worry about it. Thank you."

"Yeah, he's probably just a bit defensive as him and Kate, DS Fleming who's undercover right now at Polk, are very close and work well together. Been his partner since the beginning really," Liz explains, "But Ted was right to hire you. Arnott can't be running around town chasing every lead on his own, no matter how much he likes to think he can. And it isn't safe for Kate to keep coming here to help in case she gets caught. Give him some time and he'll warm up and realise that."

Jamie nods gratefully, briefly looking to Maneet who sends him a smile, "She's right. And no one knows DS Arnott better than her!"

Liz blanches slightly at her comment, glancing over to see Steve still talking with Ted. She tells herself she will try to catch him later, check up on him after what happened with discovering Ifield's body this morning and just now with the new DC.

"I should get back to my own work. My office is just over there," Liz says to Jamie, gesturing, "Feel free to pop by anytime. And let me know if DS Arnott gives you any more trouble, I'll have a word."

"I'll take you up on that, thank you," Jamie replies politely with another handsome smile, watching as she waves and walks away to the room she motioned to.

"You alright?" Liz asks Steve as she approaches his desk later that day. The man sits up from where his head was in his hands in front of his computer.

"Yeah," he sighs, the crease in his brow easing as he looks up at her.

"Is that all you're giving me?" Liz says softly as she leans against the desk beside him, urging him to explain why he seems so stressed, "Ted said you were the one to find Tim Ifield this morning, and Jamie said his neighbour was popping in to give some information?"

Steve folds his arms, "She was interviewed by Polk Avenue after they recovered the body but haven't contacted her since so got in touch with us. I didn't know she was coming here until I saw her with Desford in the interview room."

Liz notes the hint of contempt in his voice, "I am sure he is just eager to get started, prove his worth. Like all the young, new officers do."

"I should have been informed, it is my investigation."

"I know, but he's trying to understand how things work here," Liz tries, "Give him a chance."

She understands Steve must be feeling the pressure, especially as Tim had come to him specifically for help and him having been the one to then find Ifield dead. That must have been awful to witness, especially a death so gruesome as what Ted had described to her. But that wasn't an excuse to act like a prick.

"I am sorry you were the one to find him, that must have been terrible to see," Liz says quietly.

"Yeah, well…" Steve shrugs, but Lizzie can see it has bothered him, as it would anyone, "So you like him? Jamie?"

Liz holds back a sigh at his deflect, "He seems nice, yeah. Eager, but that's not a bad thing."

Steve just nods reflectively, looking away from her. He still seems unconvinced.

"Having a bit of help isn't a bad thing. Especially with Kate over there at Polk," Liz tries to reason.

"I have help if I need it, I have you."

"I'm not an investigator, Steve," Liz sighs despite being touched.

"You've helped before."

"And look how that turned out…"

Steve is unsure what to say to that as she begins to play with her hands in her lap. He has assured her many times before Lizzie could not be any further from blame for what happened. But it doesn't seem to get through the impenetrable wall of guilt she has built up.

Steve can't blame her for wanting distance from the cases. He would if he could. Well, would he? Work is the only thing keeping him sane nowadays, providing a more than eventful distraction. But she is right, it is getting too much. He needs the help.

"Besides," Liz continues, swallowing thickly, "I have my own work to do. Jamie seems more than capable. And in the areas he isn't, you're there to guide him. You know what you're doing, no one is questioning that."

"DS Arnott," the pair hear Jamie say as he approaches the desk, sending a smile to Liz before looking down at Steve who stands, "It's a bit crap Huntley's team never re-interviewed Gemma, the neighbour."

Steve nods, looking over at the man, "Huntley is deliberately leading the inquiry in the wrong direction. If Tim Ifield isn't Balaclava Man, there's another suspect still out there."

Liz frowns, unsure where that assumption and line of inquiry came from. Ifield as Balaclava Man? She decides against asking, having promised herself to not get too close to another investigation for some time and focus on her own work.

"So let's be the one to find them," Jamie nods, determined.

"Good," he agrees, "Gemma said the driver was white."

"I'll get Maneet to run cab companies for bookings around that time and rule out any ME-sounding names," Jamie says, confidently.

Steve nods, "Here's to hoping you'll owe her a drink."

Liz continues to watch the conversation, glad Steve seems to be making an attempt to be jovial. She assumed Jamie had been rather, characteristically, flirty with the neighbour during the statement taking, prompting Steve to make that joke.

Jamie shrugs, his face set, "That's just an interview technique. I'd never mess about with a witness."

Liz feels her heart stop, eyes snapping to Steve's face, watching it also falter.

"I know some of the blokes do," Jamie says, seriously, "but it's a bit desperate, do you know what I mean?"

Yes. Yes, Steve Arnott does know what you mean.

Liz stays quiet, watching as the tips of Steve's ears redden in embarrassment. She almost wants to laugh, unsure if Jamie even knows about Steve and… his old antics… and whether that was a direct dig or not. But she can see how much it bothers her friend, and has seen Steve trying his best to right all his wrongs. He wants to be better, she knows that. To put that behind them. But it cannot be forgotten.

"Cheers, sarge," Jamie says before turning to walk away, leaving Steve visibly bothered. He turns to Liz before leaving, "Ok if I come to you later this afternoon. Maybe around 3?"

"Sounds good," Liz nods with a friendly grin.

"Great, I'll bring coffee," Jamie smirks before finally sauntering away to his new desk.

When she turns back to Steve he is studying her, a somewhat unnervingly curious glint in his eye, "What?"

"Nothing," he mutters, looking away quickly back to where Jamie had just walked away.

Liz squints her eyes disbelievingly, following his line of sight, "I don't think he knows, if that's what you're worrying about."

Steve's head snaps back to her, "What? No, no that's not…"

Jealousy. A little voice in his head screams. It's jealousy.

Steve ignores it, shaking his head and insisting to Lizzie (who is sending him a concerned look) he is alright, just a bit stressed by the case and everything.

Which isn't untrue.

But that's not just it.

It's the way his stomach has twisted every time he has watched her interact with the younger man today. The way his head ached last night when she had said she received the number of his old friend. The way his chest constricts whenever he remembers how they woke this morning. Together.

Jealousy, the voice whispers again.

Steve can feel himself start to sweat as he listens to it.

"You ok?" Lizzie breaks him momentarily from his thoughts, the feeling of her hand enclosing gently around his startling him. She squeezes gently, trying to keep the gesture comforting yet discreet among the many working desks around them. She frowns, feeling his loose hand almost trembling in hers.

"I need to piss," Steve suddenly announces, hastily pulling his hand away from hers. Lowering his gaze from her, he storms in the direction of the toilets.

"Charming," he hears Lizzie mutter behind him, humoured.

The bathroom door carelessly swings open as he enters, hastily rushing into one of the stalls and slamming the door closed behind him. He sits on the closed lid, his hands immediately coming to hold either side of his head, his elbows digging into his thighs. Steve lets out a breath, his throat feeling as though it is closing up. It itches, so he loosens his tie a little, undoing his top shirt button before returning his head to his hands.

What is happening?!

He takes another deep breath in. A million thoughts are running through his head, too fast to catch.

Except for one, the loudest of all.

Lizzie.

He breathes back out.

Lizzie.

He feels sick.

Lizzie.

Steve stands suddenly, opening the door and moving to the sinks. Why was he thinking about her? What did she have to do with anything? He is just stressed about the case and Ifield and Desford and Huntley and-

Lizzie.

Steve shakes his head, confused as to whatever was going on inside his mind. He bends slightly at the waist, nausea twisting his stomach, bracing himself against the sink.

What about her?!

That Desford was being friendly? That she was being friendly back?

He thinks back to the word whispered to himself.

Jealousy? That wasn't jealousy. That was merely concern, like any good friend would have at the thought of someone being interested in their best friend or their best friend being interested in someone like that.

His stomach betrays him, twisting sickly again.

No, not jealousy. It was the same concern with Thomas. And Hurrell. And Cottan. I don't want her hurt, as she has been. Exactly, I was proven right to have been concerned.

And even if she were to pursue a relationship with someone, that is ultimately her decision? I can respect that. Who am I to dictate her personal life? I am only her best friend.

He can feel his face heat.

Right? Of course I can be concerned for her while respecting her choices. She was always supportive and respectful of me and Sam, and stood by me when that fell apart. Why would I not do the same for her?

I want her to be happy. That's all I want, as her best friend.

Sweat trickles down his brow.

Besides, what is there to be jealous of? We will still be best friends.

Lizzie is the kindest, most loyal, wonderful person I have ever met. And she is, well, beautiful.

Anyone would be lucky to have her, as more than what the two of us are.

Bile rises in his throat.

Especially if they knew her as well as I do. Her best friend.

We know each-other better than anyone else. Better than we know ourselves.

Is that what you are jealous of? That someone else may know her like that? That she will no longer be yours?

What are you talking about, she has never been yours?! What does that even mean?!

He runs the tap and splashes some water on his face. He had hoped it would cool his burning cheeks but instead it stings.

You're selfish. Possessive. Undeserving.

And you know the truth.

Why you really feel like this.

Why you have always felt like this.

Why she is all you have thought about, why everything you do is for her.

To keep her safe and happy and encouraged.

You know why.

You know but you won't admit it to her or yourself because you are a-

"Coward," he mutters to himself aloud, now rising to look at himself in the mirror.

The man staring back at him would have seemed a stranger even but a year ago. But today, the wearied man in the reflection is undeniably familiar. His tie askew, shirt untucked. His hands are shaking at his sides, his sleeves dripping with water. His hair is messed, pushed up at the front from where he raked his hand through it. His cheeks are blazed red, as are the tips of his ears. The veins either side of his forehead look close to bursting, bulging beneath the skin. His eyes are red and wild, cheeks damp from water - or even tears, he finds hard to tell.

Steve knows. Of course he does. At least he thinks he does. Probably always has.

But the truth scares him more than the possibility of losing her.

Why? He is unsure. Has not allowed himself to venture that far into whatever it is going on in his head.

Part of him wants to consider entertaining it. That impossible truth.

Indulge in it for just a moment...

He doesn't deserve it. He's not good enough.

And what good would it do?

Only complicate things. Possibly push her away. Hurt her.

His friendship with Lizzie means too much to him to ever allow that to even be a possibility. The thought pains him.

No.

It was not worth the risk. Whatever 'it' was.

He will bury it - not hard to do amongst the other shit scurrying around his brain lately.

Bury it deep.

For both their sakes.

(He hopes.)

"Liz, have you seen DS Arnott?" Maneet knocks on her office door later the next day.

"No, haven't seen him all day," Liz replies from her desk. Steve had rushed off somewhere this morning before she could catch him. She had wanted to ask how he was getting on, after his strange moment yesterday. It had seemed like he had made an effort to avoid her or anyone that afternoon so she had not pried, rather given him his space.

She watches as Maneet glances over her shoulder and scans the desk once more, a frown flitting across her gaze.

"Is everything alright?" Liz asks, concerned by how jittery the woman is acting, "Anything I can help with?"

Maneet looks down to the paper in her hand before taking a step closer to her desk, lowering her voice, "An image enhancement got a reg number for a vehicle spotted near Tim Ifield's flat on the night of his murder."

"Did you try calling him?"

"Several times, but it was engaged."

"Have you asked Jamie or Hastings where he might be?" Liz suggests, not quite understanding the urgency present in Maneet's voice.

The woman shakes her head, prompting Liz to stand and go toward where Desford is at his desk.

"Hey, have you seen Arnott?" Liz asks him.

The young man nods, "He's gone to see Huntley's husband at his law firm. Anything I can help with?"

Liz looks back to Maneet who is standing just behind her, eyes widened slightly in what seems to be apprehension.

"Maneet? What's wrong?" Liz asks, softly but with a strike of fear shooting through her heart at the woman's increased tension.

Maneet's fearful eyes snap to hers, "I think DS Arnott may be in danger."

Liz feels her stomach sink.