His car was parked in the underground bay at the SI-10 building, a space reserved for decorated and one he had inherited from his former parter than by merit but it looked good to walk through here. Show the others he had made it. Inspector Sturgeon bemoaned the dark corners as he tripped on his feet, a side effect of the wine he'd been drinking at lunchtime. He'd laughed heartily at his own joke, something about Dempsey only drinking cola and being fed by Makepeace. He tried not to get too cross when the projector died on his presentation.

He drew the overcoat close to him and glanced over in the distance at the orange glow where car technicians were working on the fleet of SI-10 cars. He spied Dempsey's Mercedes with the hood up. Uptown Girl blared out on the speakers and Sturgeon thought of how appropriate it was for the owner and his partner. His mind drifted to wire taps and sleazy sorts.

"What in God's name…" He cried out as something solid hit his side and propelled his body towards the closed door of his car, the impact caused him to fall to the one next to it and slide down the small space with a grunt. Twisting to his side, he found his gun and paused as the face of his assailant floated into view under the dull glow of a ceiling light.

"Watch it!" Sturgeon growled, putting his weapon away and moved himself off the floor.

Before he could raise himself up onto his knee, Sturgeon felt a sharp, hot pain in-between his ribs and his eyes bulged as he clutched his chest, finding the knife plunged deep into his body. Salty blood, oh God, his blood, curdled in and around his mouth as he tried to ask why; before he finally toppled down and lay motionless and dead on the floor.

Sturgeon was thankfully dead when the attacker removed the knife and didn't feel the blade saw through his bones. Two steps away; and the killer returned, marked a cross on the dead man's chest.

Justice was served.

XXXXXXX

Dempsey jabbed at the keyboard of the computer which seemed to belch in response. "If you were woman…" He threatened and then stopped talking as Harry eyed him from her desk.

"Please do continue Dempsey, I'm sure it'll be interesting." She said, pursing her lips with an amused glance.

He picked up the phone to ring the new IT department. He grimaced but kept his eye on Makepeace, a sight for his sore eyes, he thought appreciatively. He wasn't going to continue speaking; she had a gun and matched his score on the firing range last week. He still buzzed with pride.

"What would you do, stroke it and caress it?" Harry purred as she walked past his desk and grinned as he almost dropped the handset.

She poured the coffee as he explained the issue, and - no - he didn't have the discs and the recalcitrant screen didn't say anything helpful unless checking 'associated libraries' was useful. He hung up, briefly pacified that they'd sent someone up.

"Did you hear about Sturgeon?" Harry handed him a mug.

"Nope." Dempsey replied with scant interest as he glared at the computer as if will-power alone might summon it into life. "Don't tell me, someone stole his sandwich and he had to run after them, pull a muscle in his belly?"

Harry sighed dramatically, "He was murdered in the car park downstairs."

Dempsey sat up. "When? How?"

"Last night. A knife into his ribs, cut thought his lung and right ventricle. The weapon wasn't found. He bled to death but the killer sliced his right hand off and carved a cross on his head."

Dempsey whistled, "Fuck me. The cross. The psycho we just caught.."

"Was shot. I saw the body, so did you. Definitely very dead." Harry finished.

"And he made lots of marks…" Harry nodded when Dempsey looked to her for confirmation. "he never took a body part…"

He broke off mid-sentence when he noticed the alarmed look of the IT tech. The young man offered help and Dempsey broke out in a smile, and offered his seat. "I've got a report due and this is more difficult than a.."

"…hormonal and angry woman." Harry finished triumphantly. "Well, I'll say it for you."

She smiled more warmly at the young tech before she sat down at her desk and beckoned Dempsey over. "Give the chap some space to work. What you know about tech could be written on a beer mat."

"Who's handling this case?" Dempsey sat down on her desk, one foot hooked on the leg rest of her chair.

"Lloyd and Matthews." Harry continued with a warning, "It's not our investigation."

"Yeah, but they think it's some sorta organised mob, follows a pattern and all that shite."

"They were handling the other case with Sturgeon so it makes sense that they would."

"Sometimes it ain't that obvious." Dempsey sighed, running a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up an all angles, oblivious to the IT man who watched them as he pressed buttons.

"Well, I'm sure you can come in and save the day." Harry remarked and then peered past her partner to Richard Owen, "Have you fixed it?"

"I'll have to take it away Sergeant Makepeace." Owen's voice wobbled as he looked to both partners for approval.

"You're the expert here, not me." Dempsey shrugged and really looked at person at his desk. "Hey, you brought me a coffee over at Walthamstow?"

Owen nods, 'Yes, sir."

"I don't think I said thank you, so thanks, it's appreciated."

Owen flushed and turned away as he packed up the computer and put it onto the trolley beside him, clearly prepared for Dempsey having blown it up.

"You need a hand?" Dempsey offered, as he opened the door. Owen shook his head with a mumbled no and fled the room as fast as the trolley could take him. "Am I really that objectionable?" He asked nobody in particular and caught Harry's grin.

"I think he's a little in awe of you." She commented, rising from her seat and offering it to him. "Break my computer and you're buying me dinner."

"I thought I already was?" Dempsey slipped into the chair and flexed his fingers.

"I'm not sure I should let you within five feet of anything on my desk" She retorted, taking a chair opposite him. "And that includes me."

DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM

It was several hours later when Owen heard the voices of Makepeace and Dempsey in the corridor. He'd been left to set up the computer on his own, Spikings was locked in his own office and Chas had wandered over to say it was safer if Dempsey didn't get too hands-on with the tech. Owen blushed and mumbled something he couldn't now remember.

He was folded under the desk when they walked in.

"Idiot. Where in hell does he get off?" The warm tones he had come to know were low, angry and emotive.

"Which one?" He heard Makepeace, her usually cool voice, gentle and concerned.

"Both." Dempsey flung open the office door, pulled off his coat and dumped it on his desk. "Why bother to ask me if they're gonna ignore me? I got better things to do. It's the wrong guy."

"And you're certain about that?" Harry asked cautiously, "I know… but these people don't know you like I do… I mean, as we do in this department."

"You said I." Dempsey retorted, his voice still low but there was affection.

"I say lots of things." Harry dismissed.

There's a pause when Owen can see their feet standing close and then he hears a clatter as Dempsey throws something on the desk; his holster and gun perhaps.

"The killer isn't copying the last case. They were planned, carefully thought about. The location and the way the bodies were cut. The guy Matthews has picked up is a homeless fella. He's got previous GBH, has a beard I could live in and barely put a sentence together cos he's stoned but he's not a killer." Dempsey paused for breath.

"And you've told Matthews this?"

"Yeah." Dempsey asserted.

"After you said he was an ignorant asshole." Harry imitates his accent and Owen can't help smiling at the wires in his hand, connecting them up and aiming to quietly get up. Disappear and let Dempsey finish his report.

The Lieutenant's reply was prevented by the sound of a loud thump as Owen hit his head on the desk, and he felt embarrassment food through him.

"Are you alright?" Harry had moved past her partner to check, and Owen tried not to shy away, fearful that the two officers would uncover his nerves.

"Let me see." Harry bent over as Dempsey pushed the chair forward and met his eye with a friendly grin that made Owen bush all the more. "It's a small bump, just be careful won't you? If you have any blurred vision, you should see your doctor….stop pulling faces Dempsey, the only reason I know this is because of you… fight club about six months ago. Concussion."

Owen tried to keep up and nodded, amazed that she rattled all this off and knew that her partner was indeed grinning at her behind her back. He'd hear the rumours, as had everyone, about the partners being involved but, like good officers, they'd never given anyone any actual evidence.

He missed any other exchange as he turned the computer on and hoped it would work. He always managed to mess things up in his clumsy way. How he'd like to work here with Dempsey and his partner, joke around with them and solve important cases. His stomach did somersaults as the computer fired up and rewarded him with the right noises and the word processing software loaded.

"There, all done." Owen said. "I reinstalled the program and cleaned the machine, put new wires on it. It happens sometimes."

He was aware of Dempsey's amazed glance and his promixity, "Thank you, I owe you one."

"It was nothing, it's my job." He shrugged, hoping he wasn't as red as he felt.

"How you end up in this job?" Dempsey asked, tapping a key as if it was a small miracle.

"I'm usually in the accounts department but they needed help in IT now that this system in here and I've done that sort of work before." Owen didn't add that none of the tech team wanted to deal with Dempsey in case he had decided to shoot the computer. It amazed him how often they were the subject of force gossip but then, one look at them both and he could appreciate why. Makepeace was beautiful, calm and perfectly composed and Dempsey her complete opposite but calmer and more intuitive than he was given credit. Owen knew that his colleagues spoke from fear and insecurity. Probably a lot of jealously too.

His thoughts were interrupted by Dempsey, "Better you than me, I don't think they like me a whole lot."

It took Owen a moment to realise that Dempsey meant the computer and he smiled nervously; "They know when you don't like them."

Dempsey agreed with a chuckle, "At least it's not like Harry's Pop's dogs, computers don't bite."

"Freddy's dogs are lovely. Don't believe a word he's saying." Harry picks up the phone. Owen wondered how many other partners knew their partner's parents dogs. "Maybe you should treat it nicely."

Dempsey patted the computer and told it to sit, as Owen got to his feet with a smile, determined to leave before he could do any damage. "I'd better get back to it."

"Thanks again." Dempsey nodded and held open the door as he pushed the trolley through it. Already the Lieutenant's attention stolen by his partner who had caught his eye. Owen saw the American lean expectantly into her space, her face warm and bright as she met his gaze, as if he was a dog waiting for affection.