A Simple Case of Loving You

by Charmed Lassie

When Sgt Sheelagh Murphy joins Sun Hill she strikes up an unlikely friendship with ADI Samantha Nixon. The ease of their friendship surprises them both but what will it lead to? Eventual femmeslash.

25. Chapter 25

Wooing Samantha Nixon was never going to be easy.

As Sheelagh slipped in between the crisp sheets of the hotel bed, she couldn't help but reflect on how many emotions had been crammed into the last fortnight of her life. It was as though she'd taken a crash course in deciphering her feelings and, without hesitation, she had to accept that this was the most intense love affair of her life. The scary part was that nothing had actually happened yet.

She'd had to put the wheels of her plan in motion fairly quickly, practically as soon as she'd decided that she was attracted to – no, that she was in love with – Sam. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't still anxious about it all. No one could go through such a series of revelations so quickly and not be inclined to second-guess themselves at least a bit. However, as much as the future worried her, she'd seen quite clearly that Sam needed to be a part of that future. It was as if she'd awoken from a long dream to see the world in sharper focus than ever before. Sam loved her in every way possible and, whether she'd suppressed it or not, Sheelagh felt the same. She apparently had done for some time. The trouble was, Sam's ability to avoid the issue was apparently second only to her stubbornness. For all those times that she'd nearly told her the truth, after all, she hadn't gone through with it in the end. Sure, Sheelagh had instinctively distanced herself a few times, but would Sam have continued with her confession if she'd been given the chance? Somehow, Sheelagh couldn't picture it.

If she equivocated now then their friendship would stagnate and anything more than that wouldn't be an option. No, she'd known that she needed to show Sam that she wasn't going to hide now; she needed to show her that she knew what she wanted and was willing to fight for it, whether it scared her or not. So, the day after her night in the gay club with Connor, she'd decided to put herself out there and lay the foundations with Sam. She hadn't wanted to push too hard, but she'd felt she had to do something.

Dinner had seemed like a good idea. It wasn't exactly unusual for them to have a meal together these days and it had given her a chance to implement one of the changes she suspected they needed in their relationship – more honesty.

With that in mind, once they were settled in the Italian restaurant, she'd laid everything out plainly to Sam. She'd told her about Connor's sexuality, her conversation with Lance and about going to the club the night before. Some of it obviously wasn't news to Sam – the rumour mill had evidently ground into life via Phil Hunter as Sheelagh had anticipated it might – but her surprise at the torrent of honesty was palpable. It had led to Sam asking questions about the kids that she hadn't broached before. Only now did Sheelagh realise exactly how much she'd separated her home life from her relationship with Sam and she knew she needed to address the issue. That Sam had edged towards doing that had made her smile. It was a small step, but it was one they needed to take.

Their conversation about Gina's reconciliation with Jonathan had led onto a conversation about Sheelagh's first days at the nick and how strange it had been for Sam to trust her like she had. Everything that'd happened since she'd arrived at Sun Hill was meant to be; that's what she'd said to Sam, and she'd meant it. The love and pain on Sam's face as she squeezed her hand would've confirmed her feelings if Sheelagh had been at all uncertain and they didn't need to exchange words to be on the same page and know it – at least about Niamh.

A couple more memorable moments had come out of that evening. First, Sam hadn't even offered to pay for the meal. She'd accepted it in the spirit it was intended and Sheelagh hoped it'd been something of a warning shot – they were equal partners in this or, at least, they would be if they could ever get off the ground. That's how it'd been from the start really – support see-sawing towards who needed it most at the time – and Sheelagh wanted it to stay that way.

When Sam had dropped her coat, it'd been something of a thrill to help her with it then, outside, she'd been unable to resist taking Sam's arm as they walked along the street. Not only did she want to send a message, she also personally enjoyed the physical closeness more than she ever had before. It was different now that she realised what was going on beneath the surface – for the pair of them – and she wanted to make the most of it. At the car, when she'd kissed Sam's cheek, she'd felt the zing of desire course through her body but she'd also recognising Sam's fear. Withdrawing might've been hard, but it was the right thing to do. It had to be baby steps for them; it had to be.

The next day Connor had called her, over the moon, to let her know the GBH charges had been dropped. No reason was given for the victim backing down and Sheelagh couldn't help but be grateful, in spite of what Connor had done to deserve arrest in the first place. That he'd learned his lesson wasn't up for debate; the fact that he insisted on picking her up from the station and buying her dinner was just further evidence of that. However, she'd only understood his ulterior motive when she walked out front at the end of her shift and found him chatting to Sam.

It was beautiful, seeing them together like that. While before it'd all been combative, now there seemed to be camaraderie between them. They were even ganging up on her a bit. That said, the flurry of fear on Sam's face at the prospect of dinner together had warned Sheelagh they might be moving a little too fast for comfort, so she'd reined it in. A family unit with Sam wasn't something she'd known she needed until this week but, suddenly, it was one of the only things she could think about. The other thing on her mind wasn't something she could've shared with Connor as they walked to the car.

'You could've told me you were planning that,' she'd told him.

'I just wanted to apologise, that's all,' he said with a shrug.

'How'd she take it?' Sheelagh asked.

Snickering, he replied, 'I got her to admit she loves you. She didn't use those exact words,' he added quickly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, 'but I did and she agreed.'

Sheelagh had been unable to suppress her smile, halting to hug him. 'I think we're in trouble if you're playing matchmaker.'

'Anything to see you happy,' he said with a chuckle. 'We're in this together, remember?'

They'd carried on walking to the car, but Sheelagh had felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Somewhere behind them, Sam was watching her. She knew it and she turned around to catch her in the act. Of course, she couldn't see her face at that distance, but she saw a figure on the landing and couldn't help but smile again. She always felt loved around Sam and, with Connor at her side, she finally felt able to articulate it.

However, all the Abi stuff that had happened a few days later had crystallised some of their problems.

Sam had tried to keep her at arm's length at first and it'd been down to Ken to let her know that Abi had been seen with Craig Olson. Visiting her upstairs, she'd felt Sam pulling away but there was little she could do about it, not right there in the middle of CID. In the bathroom later, though, they were alone and Sam had quite obviously been on the receiving end of a slap. Learning that Abi had inflicted it had angered Sheelagh more than she thought possible, even if Sam's pronouncement that she deserved it had confused her a bit. It'd been a great test of Sheelagh's influence that, when she'd asked Sam explicitly to stay put while she nipped to the locker room, she'd complied. Then Sheelagh had found herself side-tracked and transfixed, studying Sam's flushed face in the mirror and wanting nothing more than to kiss everything better.

That comment about Sam making a choice that Abi wasn't happy with had percolated in Sheelagh's mind until she'd had her suspicions confirmed during Abi's altercation with her mother in the corridor later on. Abi knew the truth and she was furious with what she perceived as Sam's cowardice. Sheelagh could see that's what it looked like from Abi's perspective, but it wasn't just about that. Sam was a complex woman and only now could Sheelagh start to understand her more fully. Part of it was self-preservation, of course it was, but a significant part of Sam's reticence came from sheer love. As Gina had said, she'd done her utmost to look after her in the last year and Sheelagh knew now how much that had cost her. Loving someone and holding back, even if you thought it was the right thing to do, was incredibly difficult and exhausting.

She could've spoken to Sam directly about Abi, but she hadn't wanted to spook her after the day she'd had. So she'd suggested a drink to Gina and then surprised Sam with that pretty drink. It was gorgeous seeing her relax and she'd enjoyed their little bout of flirting, all the more for the fact they both disregarded Gina's presence in order to indulge. They'd always been that easy with each other, she realised, and now she recognised why everything had slotted into place from the moment they'd taken a step towards friendship. She knew she'd be a fool to try and fight it. However, she also knew she still couldn't push it. Walking Sam to the car once more, she'd seen her fear and let it slide again. She didn't want to scare her off, however much she wanted to know what it'd be like to press the unshakeable Samantha Nixon up against her car and kiss her senseless. She'd never thought she could feel this way, not about another woman.

The next morning she'd literally walked into Sam in the CID doorway and that hadn't helped her rampaging thoughts. Still, it had an even more potent effect on Sam and it was amusing to see her off-balance as Sheelagh explained about the wedding freebies. Her promise that she'd stick to her like glue had left Sam speechless and that was a pretty gorgeous sight in itself. She'd been unable to stop smiling for the rest of the day – and the rest of the week, come to that.

Attending June Ackland's wedding wasn't something she ever thought she'd be grateful for. Perhaps, in hindsight, it was optimistic to expect anything to happen between her and Sam in a hotel full of their colleagues, but that didn't mean that Sam hadn't wanted it to – and had very nearly let it.

When Sheelagh had first walked out onto the veranda and found Sam alone out there, she'd felt like they were in a romantic comedy or something. Sam quietly telling her she was beautiful had set off a reaction in the pair of them. It had made Sheelagh long for them to be closer but, unfortunately, Sam had seemed to take it as a red flag and spent quite a bit of the afternoon dodging her. First, they'd been swept apart for the speeches then Sam had dexterously avoided her while June threw the bouquet. It was only sheer determination that prompted Sheelagh to fill a plate of food and go off in search of her. Then, back inside, she'd struggled to come to terms with the idea they couldn't dance together. Seeing Sam twirl around the floor with Superintendent Okaro had prompted a spasm of jealousy that was only slightly alleviated by Mark asking her to dance.

Gradually, she'd realised that this night was going to be more tortuous than anything else. Sam had done a disappearing act and, after a few dances with Lance and Mark, Sheelagh had given up and gone to a table to drink the night away. Then Phil had cleared his throat beside her.

'Look,' he said, 'someone wants to see you smile so do me the honour, would you?'

'That's quite an offer,' she answered. 'How could a woman resist?'

Nevertheless, she stood and let him lead her onto the floor. She knew that somewhere Sam would be watching and, if she closed her eyes for a few moments, she could almost pretend it wasn't Phil she was dancing with at all. From the way he smirked at her, she was pretty sure he knew where her mind was wandering to.

'You two are hopeless,' he said. 'If she buries her head any deeper in the sand, she'll be in Australia.'

'I'm working on it,' she answered.

He grinned. 'Good to know.'

'Why do you care so much?' she asked as he spun her round.

'She saved my life with Weaver,' he replied with a shrug. 'She didn't have to stay with me down there.'

'Or cover your back afterwards,' Sheelagh supplied knowingly.

'Exactly,' he said. 'I owe her and I'd like to see her happy, yeah?'

'And you think I can do that?' she queried then her attention was caught by a figure in a black dress stealing out of the doors. 'Oh, I think we just lost her.'

Groaning, Phil muttered, 'Like I said – hopeless.'

They finished the dance together but Sheelagh's mind was elsewhere. As soon as the song faded into a Shania Twain number, she went in search of Sam and located her outside in the darkness. The urge to take Sam in her arms was overpowering and she finally had to succumb to it, whatever reaction she might get.

She'd felt the tremor in Sam's body as she turned her around and managed to get her dancing without her being aware of it at first. Then, when she had realised, she'd just decided to give in and go along with it. Sheelagh was relieved, more than anything. If Sam had forced her to give up this wonderful feeling of gently leading them around the lawn, with bodies pressed together and Sam's breath on her neck, she might've objected loud enough to bring a ballroom full of their colleagues running. But Sam hadn't argued and Sheelagh had enjoyed all the sensations coursing through her body, singing into Sam's ear and feeling her yield more with every word. They'd moved closer until the song had ended with every fibre of Sheelagh's being tingling for more.

They were millimetres away from that becoming a reality. Sam had been scared, sure, but Sheelagh was patient. She knew if they stood there long enough Sam wouldn't be able to resist any more than Sheelagh could herself. How they'd managed to avoid it before was a complete mystery to her; it was practically magnetic. If Sam had been in any doubt about Sheelagh's feelings, the dance had certainly got the message through. Surely, she'd locate some of that famous Nixon steel and open her eyes – that's what Sheelagh had been telling herself. Then some idiot in the ballroom had laughed too loudly and the moment was gone. Sam had panicked and Sheelagh saw her chance slip away from her – or run away as fast as it could in heels.

That's how she'd ended up here alone in her room by ten o'clock, just drunk enough to allow her mind to wander to numerous scenarios she couldn't follow through on. Maybe it was for the best; maybe they didn't want to rush it but, God, how much she wanted to right now. She couldn't help but imagine helping Sam out of that gorgeous dress, easing her down onto the bed and –

Growling, she turned over again and tried to blink away the potent images. Sam might very well push her away again, now she had chance to over-think it. Sheelagh knew she couldn't bear that. It was incredible – somehow Sam had suppressed this for a year and Sheelagh hadn't been able to hold it together for a month. She didn't know what she'd do if Sam pulled away from her again.

---

Waking in that luscious bed alone felt more isolating than it should have. She wondered if Sam was having the same trouble elsewhere in the hotel; she almost hoped she had the same regrets but, then again, she knew how much Sam struggled with regrets. The last thing either of them needed was Sam beating herself up even more; that could set them back months and anything could happen in the meantime.

It was difficult to get moving that morning. She showered, using as many of the hotel's luxury toiletries as she could manage in twenty minutes, then realised that she was almost late for her breakfast date with Sam. If she turned up, that'd be a sign that she wasn't running completely scared at least. Sheelagh couldn't deny her nerves as she walked down to the dining room, but she made a deliberate effort to distract herself when she saw Gina sitting alone. She looked like she had one hell of a hangover, although, thinking about it, Sheelagh couldn't remember seeing her after about eight o'clock last night.

Stopping by the table, she asked, 'Where Jonathan?'

'Gone,' Gina said bluntly.

Sheelagh grimaced and took the seat opposite. 'I'm guessing you don't mean gone for orange juice. What happened?'

'Doesn't matter,' answered Gina. 'That's it – finished. No point dwelling on it.'

She wasn't entirely sure how to deal with this. Sam was always more adept at handling Gina's moods but, then, last time Gina had rowed with Jonathan had triggered a major blow-up between the pair of them. Perhaps things were different now, perhaps they weren't. Slipping into a mediator role wasn't exactly unusual for Sheelagh; she just wasn't used to doing it at the crack of dawn for her inscrutable inspector and potential – potential girlfriend. Was that the right word to use?

As if on cue, Sam appeared in her line of sight, hovering around the doorway and looking nervous. That made Sheelagh's heart stutter a bit – she might be anxious, but she was there. Catching sight of her with Gina, Sam's brow furrowed and Sheelagh jumped up to go and greet her. When she walked over, however, she felt fear jolting around in her stomach. It was some comfort to see that reflected in Sam's eyes.

'Morning,' Sheelagh said as she reached her.

Sam switched feet. 'Hey.'

In that one word Sheelagh managed to gauge the entire spectrum of Sam's feelings: love, regret, hope, anxiety – but mostly love. She was scared of them slipping away from each other as much as Sheelagh was, although she might be more inclined to let it happen. That was just the way Samantha Nixon operated.

'Did you sleep okay?' Sheelagh questioned.

'Not sure the champagne helped,' Sam said with a light shrug. 'How about you?'

'The same really,' she answered, not entirely dishonestly. 'Listen, we've got a problem.'

The flicker of fear that crossed Sam's face was palpable. 'Oh?'

Under the circumstances, reaching out and squeezing her arm wasn't entirely appropriate but Sheelagh couldn't help herself. If – she inwardly reasoned – she'd still been in the dark she would've been affectionate with Sam as a matter of course. The only thing that had changed was that she wanted – no, needed – the intimacy now. She also needed Sam to know that, from her perspective, last night hadn't altered a thing between them. At her touch, Sam seemed to relax and constrict all at once.

'Jonathan's gone,' Sheelagh explained as she let her arm drop. 'From the sound of it, I think it's stuck this time.'

'Oh, no,' Sam murmured. 'How's she handling it?'

'As you'd expect,' said Sheelagh. She couldn't help adding, 'Hopefully, not like last time though.'

Sam managed a smile then glanced towards the table. 'Is it too early for a Scotch?'

'I think you know the answer to that,' Sheelagh returned, resting a hand on her spine. 'Come on, I'm not going back over there alone.'

It was hopefully the physical contact that silenced the retort Sheelagh saw brewing on Sam's lips. They walked over to the table without a word and sat down opposite each other, barely earning a glimmer of recognition from Gina. While Sheelagh signalled to the waiter, Sam was busy sizing up her friend's mood. Sheelagh liked watching her work, liked to see the cogs moving, but she would've preferred it if they didn't have to analyse Inspector Gold's broken heart at this time of morning.

The waiter came over and poised his pen. 'Good morning, ladies. What can I get you?'

'Scrambled eggs,' she and Sam said in unison then they glanced up and met each other's eye.

It seemed like it'd come without thinking to both of them. Sam looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, but Sheelagh hoped her expression was more loving than surprised. Then she remembered that the waiter was still staring at them and realised that their little duet had finally garnered a response from Gina in the form of an arched eyebrow.

'And coffee please,' Sheelagh added. 'Times two.'

With a nod, the waiter disappeared. That left them with Gina who was quickly trying to work out what was going on. At least, Sheelagh reasoned, they'd given her something else to concentrate on apart from Jonathan's departure.

'Funny old night, wasn't it?' Gina queried after a moment. 'Ex-wife storms the reception, groom in the hospital, bride in bed alone by nine o'clock.'

'Sounds pretty standard for Sun Hill,' Sam commented and Sheelagh snorted her agreement.

'That's why I'm better off out of it,' said Gina. She swilled her coffee around then looked between them. 'You two have a good time, did you?'

Seeing Sam stiffen across the table, Sheelagh replied, 'It was a good night, but I didn't stick around too late. Sam did,' she went on. 'Drinking the bar dry, I think.'

'Well, it was free,' Sam said mildly.

They were colluding on an untruth, but it was worth it to avoid any tricky questioning from Gina at this point in time. The last thing Sam needed was someone forcing her to confront what had almost happened last night, especially if it was anything like Gina's previous forceful attempt to bash her around the head. Sheelagh had been thrown back into the position of Sam Nixon's chief protector and, truth be told, she rather liked the job.

If Gina had any thoughts, she kept them to herself. The flash of intrigue that had crossed her face at the prospect of them actually getting their act together seemed to have disintegrated now she knew they hadn't. Her gaze sank into her coffee and Sheelagh found herself counting down the minutes until their breakfast arrived whilst trying not to look at Sam. It didn't help that their knees touched under the table every time one of them moved. For a fancy hotel, this place needed to invest in some bigger tables. Then again, she conceded with a small smile, she really wouldn't have it any other way right now. Those occasional touches were reminders to them both that this wasn't going away, no matter what had or hadn't happened last night.

Finally, their coffee and scrambled eggs arrived. Sheelagh allowed herself to look up and catch Sam's affectionate expression before they both turned their attention to their breakfasts. The food was nice enough, even if the atmosphere was a little testy. Gina didn't seem to want to talk and, to be fair, Sheelagh was relieved. Whatever had happened between her and Jonathan, her certainty that it was final could lead to all sorts of uneasy discussions around the breakfast table. However, Gina didn't seem to want to be alone either. Despite finishing her coffee, she stuck around to watch them eat and only rose when Sam set her cutlery straight.

'Either of you need a lift back to the nick?' Gina asked.

Sheelagh shook her head. 'I've got my car, thanks.'

'Me too,' Sam said. 'I'll walk upstairs with you though. Sheelagh?'

'No, no, you two go,' she said with a weak smile. 'I've got some coffee left.'

After all this time, she'd learned to read Sam pretty well. It was clear that she didn't want to be alone with her and that a conversation with a grumpy Gina Gold was a preferable alternative. It had to be bad for that, but Sheelagh knew she was just running scared. To get through breakfast had been something, even if watching Sam walk away with Gina cut into her. It wasn't the way it should've been.

Still, she had a day at work to get through yet. Things could change for the better. Or, she conceded as she drained her coffee cup, they could always change for the worse. It just depended how brave Sam was feeling at the moment and, given the furtive glance she shot over her shoulder before she and Gina rounded the corner, Sheelagh was inclined to think the answer to that was 'not very'. Sighing, she rose and went to pack her bag.

---

For some reason, while relief had hangovers, the top brass had headaches. Sheelagh quickly realised there was something going on upstairs when she got into the nick and she was relieved to be posted out on patrol with Steve. Another side-effect of that – whether it was good or bad – was that it gave her some distance from Sam. On the one hand, she knew that Sam worked better once she processed things but, on the other, it could solidify her urge to run away. It was fifty-fifty, as far as Sheelagh could see.

Her first shout with Steve was a nasty one. A transit van had gone up in flames and the fire brigade were on the scene damping down. The fireman who greeted them was a familiar face but far too sombre for Sheelagh's liking at the moment. He took them over to the back of the extinguished van and gestured inside. If Sheelagh, with her years of experience both as a nurse and a copper, nearly threw up at the sight of the blackened body, she didn't know how Steve was coping with it. She called it in, requesting Gina's presence on what had turned out to be far from a routine shout.

You'd never guess Gina was suffering from the way she took charge at the waste ground. They needed to wait for MIT to clear any search activity and they had a backlog. In the meantime, it was just a case of preserving the scene. Gina, noticing Steve's green gills, told them to go back out on the beat and assigned the cordon to officers who hadn't seen the body. The off-hand way she ordered them away might've fooled anyone else, but Sheelagh appreciated the concern, especially considering how battered Inspector Gold was at the moment.

For the rest of the shift, Sheelagh made it her mission to cheer Steve up. He was a good lad, in the job for the right reasons and trying to outshine his brother in all the good ways. That said, Phil Hunter was growing on her a little. Whatever he'd done in the past, he'd obviously been a friend to Sam since the whole Weaver encounter. It didn't mean Sheelagh wouldn't keep one eye on him at all times – just in case – but it did mean she thought a little better of him for now.

They dealt with a couple of domestic shouts on the Bronte then, by the time they got back for refs, it was later than it should've been. Steve was still subdued but picked up after getting some food inside him, like most young fellas did.

As they were heading back into the yard, Sheelagh caught sight of Sam on her way out of the gates, laden down with all her gear and her curiosity kicked in.

'I'll just be a minute,' she said to Steve.

Hurrying across the yard, she grabbed Sam's arm and was a little dismayed by the way she withdrew sharply when she saw who it was. It confirmed her suspicions that time to think hadn't done Sam any good, but it was too late to change that decision now. Instead, Sheelagh just had to inject some lightness into her tone when what she really wanted to do was force Sam to look her in the eye instead of everywhere but.

'You look like you're doing a runner,' Sheelagh commented, gesturing to the bag.

Sam managed a chuckle, albeit a thin one. 'Caught Manson in a good mood, got an early dart.'

'Are you feeling okay?' asked Sheelagh anxiously.

'Yeah, yeah,' Sam answered with a genuine smile. 'I've promised Abi a party for her seventeenth. I wanna get home and talk to her about it.'

The knot in Sheelagh's stomach unravelled slightly. 'That's nice.'

'I pay and I stay out of the way,' Sam said. 'That's the deal. It'll be worth it though, just to see a smile on her face.'

'I'm sure.' Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Steve waiting by the car and added, 'I'd better go.'

'Take care of yourself out there,' Sam called before she could move away. 'I mean it.'

Sheelagh met her eye then pointed out, 'I think you're still ahead of me in kidnap attempts, bomb blasts...'

This time, Sam's laughter tickled her spine. 'Okay, but no trying to catch up, all right? I'm not sure I could handle that right now.'

'I'm touched you care,' Sheelagh retorted.

Wisely, Sam didn't respond to that, though Sheelagh could see that she wanted to. That was something, wasn't it? Even while her head was telling her to back off, Samantha Nixon's heart was telling her to throw caution to the wind. Sheelagh could see the battle in her green eyes and didn't want to make things worse right now. Still, if a hotel full of their colleagues last night had been the wrong place to make the leap, the yard was even worse. What Sheelagh needed was to get her alone, push her to the edge and see what happened next. It was the only way.

---

The rest of the shift was pretty quiet.

In truth, the emotional upheaval of the last few weeks was starting to tell on her and Sheelagh was craving her bed by the time she gratefully clocked off. Without the prospect of seeing Sam around every corner, Sun Hill was an unexciting place in her current frame of mind. If she couldn't be with her then she'd just as soon be at home with a glass of wine.

Connor had obviously been waiting for her to get home. She couldn't mask her amusement at her teenage boy watching out for her and ushering her into the house like some sort of mumsy pensioner. He took her overnight bag from her shoulder and sat her down at the kitchen table while he made a cup of tea.

'All right,' she said, 'what have you broken?'

He grinned as he turned back. 'Just trying to be nice to you, that's all.'

'You are,' she answered with a small smile. 'But, honestly, what have you broken?'

'Don't deflect,' he warned. 'Come on, how did it go?'

'I'm not comfortable discussing this with you,' she pointed out.

'Isn't that exactly what she'd say?' Connor shot back.

Groaning, Sheelagh replied, 'You're not playing fair.'

'I know,' he retorted. He continued making her tea in silence then sat down, pushing it across the table then catching her hands before she could pick up the cup. 'But that means it didn't go well, yeah?'

'It did,' she admitted after a moment. 'I just don't know how well.'

Connor's jaw set. 'She didn't upset you, did she? I know I said I like her but –'

'No, shush,' Sheelagh interrupted fondly. 'The only person she hurt was herself. Anyway, I couldn't be mad at her if I tried. I know her too well. I suppose that's why I...'

'Love her,' he supplied softly.

'Exactly,' she murmured.

'So,' he said finally, 'what happens next?'

Sheelagh snorted and wrapped her hands around her cup. 'I haven't got a clue. Now, what do you fancy for dinner?'

---

It had been too dark to look at the waste ground by the time the troops had arrived last night. MIT were in charge, but Sun Hill officers were doing the legwork, of course. Sheelagh was involved, taking more of a leading role than perhaps she should've been given that she was no longer a sergeant. Even so, Smithy didn't seem to mind.

Some leads were recovered before the search team disbanded and Sheelagh was one of those sent back to the nick to catch up on her paperwork. Maybe it was her age kicking in, but she relished the idea of an afternoon in the nick. Then again, she conceded as she deposited her coat into her locker, perhaps it was more about wanting to catch sight of Sam than anything else. However, that didn't look as though it was going to happen without effort and she couldn't quite bring herself to find a pretext to climb the stairs. As much as she felt she needed to check that Sam wasn't trying to talk herself out of her feelings again, she knew bringing it into the station was a terrible idea. She was certainly beginning to appreciate what Sam had gone through in the last year, wondering when to keep her distance and when to edge a little closer. For someone who thought she wasn't any good at normal relationships, Sam had navigated it pretty well. She'd been there when Sheelagh needed her and not pushed too hard and Sheelagh was determined to reciprocate.

She went to drop some files into the front office early-afternoon only to be accosted by Marilyn with an anxious expression on her face – well, more anxious than usual.

'Sheelagh,' she said, rising from her seat, 'Reg hasn't said anything to you, has he? About him and me.'

'No,' she answered. 'Why, what's happening?'

'Nothing,' Marilyn said. 'Literally – that's the problem. You see, one minute he's all over me and then the next minute he's ignoring me. It's either I'm a stupid idiot or he's got a screw loose.'

Sheelagh couldn't help but laugh then trailed off as she saw the look on Marilyn's face. 'Come on,' she coaxed.

'It was just great at the wedding, you know?' Marilyn queried. 'I suppose I thought everything was all right between us but now...' As the phone rang, she glanced over her shoulder then added, 'I just feel so stupid.'

Watching her answer the phone, Sheelagh smiled then slipped away quietly. It was funny; she'd seen Marilyn and Reg kiss at the wedding and thought it was about time but that had been swept away with everything that had happened afterwards with Sam. She hadn't put much thought into what had happened between them but, in a strange way, Reg was very similar to Sam in some respects. Although Sam would scoff at the idea, she was incredibly sensitive and shy – though only when she cared too much. It was no coincidence that both Reg and Samantha seemed to be on the run at the moment.

When she bumped into Reg in BIU, Sheelagh couldn't resist sticking her nose in. It was easier than chasing Sam, after all. Perching on the edge of the desk, she wondered how to begin and he looked at her quizzically.

'Do you want something, Sheelagh?' he asked.

'Yeah,' she said. 'Marilyn.'

'What about her?' he questioned.

'She reckons you're avoiding her,' she explained.

'No, I'm just looking after her interests, that's all. I mean, well, people jump to conclusions, don't they? And we were a bit tipsy at the wedding.' She continued staring at him, as she did to such great effect with Sam and her kids, and he finally cracked, muttering, 'And, well, I –'

'And what?' she cut in, sensing an epic Reg babbling session incoming. 'Aren't you interested?'

'Of course,' he said.

'Well, she doesn't seem to think you are,' she said then she smiled softly. 'What are you frightened of, Reg? Getting hurt?'

'It happens,' he answered. 'In my experience. Besides, I don't expect a woman like that to be interested in me.'

'Why not?' she pressed. She rolled her eyes and added, 'I feel like a teenager fixing up a mate. If that's all that's holding you back – go for it, talk to her, ask her out.'

He looked at her hopefully. 'Really?'

'You've got no worries,' she told him. 'She's got it bad for you, it's official – straight from the horse's mouth.'

With a wink, she left him pondering that. It felt good to be proactive in someone's relationship, even if it wasn't her own. Reg deserved to be happy and, these days, Sheelagh was firm in her belief that opposites attracted. Even if the practicalities of such relationships strained her mind sometimes.

It was incredible how quickly she'd settled into thinking of Sam in that way. Somehow, it was liberating. It was as if she'd been constrained by her inability to look past their friendship for endless months and now she saw all the layers to it. While she still stood by her initial impulse to wring Sam's neck for keeping this from her, she understood perfectly why she had. If it hadn't been for Connor, she doubted she'd have been able to come around so quickly. Her knee-jerk reaction to put some distance between Sam and herself would've been upheld by fear – much the same as Sam's reaction to whatever Manson had said to her that time in the corridor had been. Thinking about all that led Sheelagh down the path of Peter Cavanaugh and she couldn't help the way her entire attitude shifted as she walked along the corridor. Although she tried to label it in her mind as something irrelevant, she couldn't prevent the hollow anger it conjured up.

An arm stretched out in front of her suddenly. 'Hey, are you okay?'

She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Sam approaching from the other end of the corridor. Blinking, she caught sight of the concern in her eyes and her musings about Cavanaugh dimmed somewhat – for now, at least. With the awkwardness between them following the wedding, it wouldn't have been beyond the realms of possibility for DS Nixon to see her and carry on walking. But she hadn't and, Sheelagh realised, she never would, however much personal pain it caused her. That was love.

'Sheelagh?' Sam prompted.

'Sorry,' she said, attempting a smile, 'I was...thinking, that's all.'

'Yeah?' asked Sam carefully. 'Anything interesting?'

Sheelagh felt herself blush. 'Definitely.'

'Right,' Sam murmured and the way her tongue flicked over her lips told Sheelagh they were both on the same page and longing it turn it. But they were in the nick, she remembered, raising her eyes from Sam's mouth with difficulty.

'I've just been doing a little matchmaking,' she explained. 'Reg and Marilyn couldn't get their act together.'

Frowning, Sam queried, 'Reg and Marilyn?'

'You live in a little world of your own, don't you, DS Nixon?' Sheelagh returned indulgently. 'They were all over each other at the wedding. '

'I didn't notice,' Sam replied with a shrug. 'I had other things on my mind.'

That was the closest they'd come to mentioning what had nearly happened that night and Sheelagh felt her stomach twist. She knew that look in Sam's eye – she was testing the ice to see if it shattered beneath her feet – and had they been anywhere else she would've taken her up on the challenge. But, perhaps, that's why Sam had raised it here and now. It was safe.

The silence stretched until Sam cleared her throat and said, 'I'd better get on. I've got an assault victim waiting in the front office.'

'Sure,' Sheelagh answered.

Before she moved off, Sam rubbed her shoulder. It was simple but so intimate and Sheelagh couldn't help but turn to watch her progress down the corridor. She rested her shoulder against the wall and chuckled to herself. How long they could carry on like this was anyone's guess.

---

The gossip circulating the next day centred on the Super's arrest for possession of drugs and Jonathan Fox's abrupt departure from Sun Hill. Sheelagh heard that particular news with a wince but didn't partake in any of the somewhat vindictive conversation swirling around the nick. She'd had the faint hope that Gina and Jonathan would reconcile as they had last time but apparently not and that gave her pause. She'd thought they were well-suited and Jonathan managing to break down Gina Gold's walls had given her some hope for her own future. Now she wasn't so sure, and not seeing Sam at all that day didn't help. She wondered if she was avoiding her but, honestly, she was a little too much of a chicken to ask outright.

The following day was as strained around the station. Sheelagh was posted to assist on custody, something she found to be a mixed blessing. On the one hand, she was used to the work but, on the other, it reminded her too much of her demotion. She did come down on the side of it being a good posting, however, when she realised it might be her best shot to see Sam.

That optimism seemed misplaced though. By refs she'd dealt with a round of drunks, idiots and more sophisticated criminals but none brought in by DS Nixon. She went to the canteen with that same constricted feeling in her stomach that she'd had when Sam was pushing her away – and sleeping with Peter Cavanaugh – while still trying to tell herself that this wasn't anything like that. Her last conversation with Sam had been pleasant, after all. More than that, it had been flirtatious. There were no definite signs that Sam was pulling away, other than the fact she had literally pulled away from their almost-kiss the other night. No, this wasn't like last time; she was just scared, that's all. Sheelagh told herself that numerous times as she ate her solitary lunch, but it didn't seem to do her much good.

Back on custody, she tried to concentrate. Then a question, addressed to June, startled her from her paperwork.

'Can I borrow PC Murphy please?' Sam asked in a voice that sounded nothing like her.

Sheelagh immediately scanned her face and found poorly masked anxiety in her eyes. Judging from the way June glanced between them, she spotted it too. She was no doubt wondering whether this was a professional or personal request but, ultimately, it didn't matter. Sam and June might both have been sergeants, but Sam still had the command of an inspector when it suited her and it could encourage most officers to give in. That's why Sheelagh was already putting her pen down and stepping around the desk when June agreed.

'Sure,' she said. 'Don't keep her too long.'

Although Sam nodded, Sheelagh could tell she was distracted. She took off along the corridor, past the interview rooms with Sheelagh struggling to keep up. Finally, she opened the door to the briefing room and, finding it empty, gestured her inside. Once the door was closed, she began pacing the room. Sheelagh managed to restrain her curiosity, knowing that Sam would speak to her when she was ready. In the meantime, she waited and worried.

Sam checked herself suddenly and jolted to a stop. Raising her chin, she muttered, 'Abi hasn't come home the last two nights. She was meant to be meeting me to book the venue for her party at lunchtime, but she didn't turn up. I've called...everyone. Friends, family, acquaintances... I've done everything I'm meant to do.'

It took Sheelagh a moment to absorb the news and she resisted her impulse to cross the room and wrap her arms around Sam. She knew her well enough to recognise that she needed to maintain the illusion that she was okay at the moment, especially in the nick. That said, Sheelagh knew no mother could possibly be okay with what she'd just told her. It was a fine line between support and mollycoddling but she had to trust Sam to lead on this.

So, swallowing down her love, Sheelagh asked calmly, 'Have you reported it?'

'No,' Sam answered, 'not yet. You know, I thought that she was...making a point over the last couple of days. But to not turn up today when it was something she was looking forward to... I mean, she was genuinely excited, Sheelagh. She wouldn't just not turn up.'

'Then you need to report it,' Sheelagh said, pained by the plaintive expression on her face. 'Talk to Gina, just an informal chat.'

Sam bit her lip. 'Will you come with me?'

Now Sheelagh felt able to step forward. Holding her gaze, she stretched out and took her hand. The way that Sam clutched at it like a lifejacket would've surprised anyone else, but Sheelagh knew the inner workings of this woman and she just wanted to help. She raised her free hand and cupped Sam's cheek.

'You don't have to ask that,' she replied.

'I'm scared,' Sam admitted, voice breaking.

'I know,' Sheelagh told her. 'Darling, I know. Come on,' she continued, letting her hand trail onto her shoulder, 'we'll do this together.'

Sam managed a weak smile then broke away. It was nothing to do with wanting the distance but more like a need to reassert herself as DS Nixon as they walked to Gina's office. Sheelagh respected that and let her get on with it, knowing it was enough that Sam had turned to her and asked for help. She was under no illusions how hard that must've been when things were still so mixed-up between them.

Gina glanced up as Sheelagh knocked on the door. 'Problem?'

'Can we come in?' she queried.

'Sure.' Having gone from mildly irritated at the disruption to genuinely anxious at the expression on their faces in record time, Gina gestured for them to sit down. Neither of them did. 'What's going on?'

As much as Sheelagh wanted to ease Sam's burden, she knew this had to come from her. So, instead of explaining, she tucked her hands behind her back and waited. Seeing that, Gina's eyebrows contracted further.

'I'd like to report Abi as missing,' Sam said. 'It's been over forty-eight hours.'

Her tone was remarkably calmer than it had been just five minutes earlier and Gina did something of a double take at such news being reported in such casual terms. However, one glance at Sheelagh seemed to confirm her suspicion it was all an act, yet one she was apparently willing to partake in. She rose and rounded her desk.

'Right,' she said, business-like, 'well, you know the procedures. I think we can dispense with the personal details at the moment; we've got them on file. I'll circulate a picture and ask the relief to keep an eye out. We can go from there.'

Sam cleared her throat. 'I've got a recent picture on my computer, I'll email it to you.'

'Excellent. Now, in the meantime,' Gina went on, 'try not to worry.'

'Thanks,' Sam said then shifted her gaze to Sheelagh briefly. 'I should...'

'Sure,' Sheelagh returned. 'You know where I am.'

With one more attempt at a smile, Sam strode out of the office and towards the back staircase. Sheelagh watched her go, holding her impassive expression until she judged Sam had definitely climbed the stairs then she exhaled heavily.

Gina moved to close the door. 'What do you think? Is Abi just winding her up?'

'It doesn't matter,' she answered. 'Whatever their relationship, Abi's a sixteen-year-old vulnerable girl who hasn't come home for two nights. Sam's called everyone she can think of. It needs taking seriously. Please,' she added as a concession to their friendship.

When Gina nodded, she took that as her dismissal and walked slowly back to custody. She must've looked distracted because June didn't even quiz her on whether it was a professional matter that had dragged her away and they worked practically in silence for the rest of the afternoon. Of course, the full range of Sun Hill criminal and idiotic lowlife passed through the cells, but Sheelagh felt distanced from it all. She was worried about Sam and Abi, something that took up a considerable portion of both her head and heart.

It wasn't long after four o'clock when she heard determined footsteps along the corridor. They weren't Sam's, she knew that much, but she was dismayed to look up and find Gina approaching with concern etched on her face. Without being called, she murmured an apology to June and met Gina halfway.

'Looking for me, Ma'am?' she queried.

'Mmm,' Gina said. 'My office, please, Sheelagh.'

Oh, this wasn't good. Sheelagh followed her mechanically, her brain speeding through the various scenarios and each one seemed more alarming than the last. By the time the door closed behind them she was almost beyond panic.

'What is it?' she asked.

'We've found Abigail's clothes down by the river,' answered Gina.

Sheelagh groped for a chair. 'Does Sam know?'

'I wanted to speak to you first.' Gina paused. 'I want to assign you FLO.'

'She won't accept a FLO,' replied Sheelagh as she pressed her fingers into the corners of her eyes. 'She doesn't need one.'

'No,' Gina conceded, 'but she needs you right now. This is a way for you to support her without it looking unusual.'

Sheelagh let out her breath at Gina's consideration. Somehow, it shouldn't be a surprise, but it was. Then her mind twisted inexorably back towards Sam and she shook in her seat. Clothes down by the river were a terrible sign and not something she could imagine dealing with herself. However, she was acutely aware of Samantha Nixon's peculiar frailties and she lifted her chin.

'She needs to be told,' she said firmly. 'Now – this minute. She won't thank you for keeping it from her.'

Sighing, Gina dropped into her own seat and called up to CID. Her message was curt and polite, but Sheelagh knew exactly what effect that'd have on Samantha. She wasn't stupid. Sure enough, she barrelled into the office just a few minutes later, out of breath and anxious. That increased tenfold when she saw Sheelagh sitting there but she made a valiant effort to mask her fear. Both Sheelagh and Gina rose to greet her.

'It's about Abi, isn't it?' Sam asked quietly.

'I've had a call from Barton Street,' Gina replied.

'Have they found her?' Sam questioned with far too much hope in her voice. 'Is she all right?'

'They found a set of clothes on the sandbank by the Thames,' Gina explained. 'Jeans, blouse, pair of trainers – and in the pocket, a travel card with Abigail's name and photo on it.'

Sheelagh saw the tears brewing in Sam's eyes and stepped towards her, but she didn't get there in time. Without a word, Sam turned and fled at top speed.

Sparing a glance for Gina, Sheelagh chased her out of the office, disregarding the colleagues that got in her way. However, despite her best efforts, by the time she lurched out of the front office, Sam was already across the road. There was no way she'd reach her in time.

She rested her hand on a pillar and tried to think logically, the way Sam would. Neither of them had been given specific information about where Abi's clothes had been found. If they had then Sam would've been on her way there without question. But the sandbank by the river was a massive location and it wasn't like she could just fix on the right spot by accident. So, she'd go elsewhere and, suddenly, Sheelagh knew exactly where.

Going back into the station, she went straight to the locker room and grabbed her bag. It didn't occur to her that she should've informed June what on earth she was up to until she was halfway to the car park and, by then, she'd convinced herself that it didn't matter. Her one goal was getting to Sam; it had to be.

Driving in traffic at this time was always tricky but today it was downright infuriating. She made it through the jams without ramming anybody and pulled off towards the relatively desolate area along the riverbank. She'd recalled Sam's admission the night Amy Grogan had gone missing that she also came down here to think sometimes. Looking back, that was another instance of their hearts working in synchronicity but, right now, Sheelagh was just grateful for the nugget of information. It meant that when she pulled up and saw Sam's car, she could send up a thank you to God before unbuckling her seatbelt and approaching her.

She looked small, lost in herself. It was so unlike DS Nixon that Sheelagh had to physically stop and regroup. She didn't know how best to do this. Then she remembered how loving Sam had been when she'd collected her from the cordon at the area car accident; loving and gentle but firm. That was how she'd needed to be treated and it struck her that Sam needed the same right now. So, she took one long look at the woman with her chin pressed against the railings and staring into the murky water then settled alongside her.

'I'm sorry for running away,' Sam murmured. Her voice was thick with tears, but her gaze was still trained on the water.

'You don't need to be,' Sheelagh said. 'I would've done the same.'

Edging closer, Sheelagh risked placing a hand on Sam's spine. She was rewarded by a slight exhalation and Sam straightening up before leaning against her. Now Sheelagh felt able to reposition her arm around Sam's shoulders, though she still maintained a bit of distance.

'She's been so angry with me,' Sam said finally. 'Angry – not depressed. She wouldn't... They won't find her body, she hasn't...' She sniffed and tilted her head back. 'Where were the clothes found? I wanna go down there.'

'I don't know,' Sheelagh replied honestly. 'I was too busy chasing after you to ask for details. But you know that's not a good idea anyway. Let them do their job; it's out of your hands for the time being. Gina assigned me FLO,' she added after a moment and Sam glanced over sharply. 'I know, I know. You don't need one. But it means my duties can be reassigned for the time being and I can focus on you, all right? No arguments.'

Slowly, Sam nodded. 'Okay.'

'Good,' said Sheelagh, holding her gaze. 'Now, here's what's gonna happen. We're gonna get in the car and drive to mine. You can wait outside while I pack a bag or you can come in – that's up to you – then I'm taking you home and we'll wait there until we hear something.'

Sam's forehead creased. 'The divers won't start looking till first light, I should be out –'

'You've done everything you can do,' Sheelagh interrupted firmly. 'Now you need to be at home in case she comes back. Agreed?'

'But what if –' Sam began but Sheelagh again cut her off.

'This isn't negotiable. I'm just telling you what's happening.' Raising a hand to Sam's hair, she went on, 'You need to let me look after you. I need to look after you,' she amended.

That was it; the sentence that broke Samantha Nixon's resolve. She almost physically crumpled and Sheelagh took the opportunity to pull her closer and press a kiss to her temple. Turning them around, Sheelagh steered her towards the car.

'Wait, wait,' Sam said suddenly. 'What about my car?'

'I'll get someone to pick it up tomorrow,' answered Sheelagh. 'Is it locked?'

'I...don't know,' Sam admitted.

Sheelagh held out her free hand. 'Keys, come on.'

Without a word, Sam fumbled in her pocket and handed them over. Sheelagh made sure to lead her to her car first and deposited her in the passenger seat before going to Sam's car, checking for exposed valuables, and locking up. When she returned, she found Sam lost in thought and decided to let her be for now. In truth, her own brain needed time to catch up, so heaven knows how Sam's overactive mind was coping.

The traffic was as bad now as it had been earlier. There was no way around it, so Sheelagh just stayed silent and kept her eyes trained on the road. She sensed Sam would appreciate it. By the time they got to her house the clouds that had been threatening all day had erupted and Sam seemed transfixed by the raindrops on the windscreen.

'Staying here?' Sheelagh queried softly.

It took Sam a moment to drag her eyes over. 'Yeah.'

Sheelagh squeezed her knee then got out of the car. It was difficult not to show more affection than that but, really, she was beginning to wonder what recriminations Sam was throwing at herself and whether they related to their relationship – or lack thereof.

The television was on in the living room, meaning Connor was home already. She was grateful for that as she walked in to find him sprawled over the sofa; it was something like normality. Then he caught sight of her face and jumped up.

'What's wrong?' he asked. 'What's happened?'

'Sam's daughter's missing,' she explained. 'They found her clothes by the river so now it's a case of waiting. I'm staying round there until... Well, I'm staying there tonight anyway. Are you okay?'

He seemed to be struggling. 'I'm fine but, Mum, are you?'

'Honestly?' She pursed her lips together and shook her head. 'I'm terrified and I just want to click my fingers and make it all go away for her. I know how she felt now when...'

'You could step back,' Connor suggested.

'How could I do that?' she queried. 'If it was you in pain, or Declan or Siobhan, I'd be there by your side every minute. I have to look after her, no one else knows how.'

Pulling her into a hug, he muttered, 'Keep me in the loop, okay? I'll pray for her.'

'Which one?' she asked.

'Both,' he returned as he drew back.

She managed a smile then kissed his cheek and left the living room. It only took her a few minutes to throw together an overnight bag, though she made sure to send Gina a text to let her know their plans and that she'd found Sam safe and well. She received a response saying that the divers would start at dawn and, if there was no news overnight, to bring Sam in first thing for a more detailed statement. Sheelagh replied in the affirmative then pocketed her phone and descended the staircase. After popping her head round the door to say goodbye to Connor, she swallowed hard and continued out of the house.

At least Sam was still in the car. Given her impulsiveness, that was almost more than Sheelagh had hoped for and she tossed her bag onto the back seat with a degree of relief before slotting into driver's seat. Sam glanced over, pain clouding her features, then turned her attention back to the street. Sheelagh let the silence stretch between them as she indicated back onto the road and carried on to Sam's house.

There was obviously a part of Sam that was still hoping they'd arrive and Abi would be waiting but the house was dark. Sheelagh heard the tiny sigh and it broke her heart more than an outright exclamation would've. Still, she deliberately ignored it, retrieving her bag and getting out of the car without a word. It was raining steadily now and that must've prompted Sam not to keep her waiting. Sheelagh still had her keys but handed them over when Sam reached her. This was her home and she needed to do this at her own pace.

Of course, being Samantha Nixon, she pushed herself to do it immediately. Sheelagh trailed on her heels as she crossed the threshold then almost walked into her when she stopped dead. From behind, even in the dim light coming through the glass, Sheelagh could see how rigid her frame was. Now they were safe in this house – they weren't in public, there was no reason for Sam to hold back – Sheelagh reached forward and rubbed her arm. Sam covered her hand briefly then mechanically walked to the stairs. Sheelagh didn't ask where she was going; she already knew.

Dropping her bag on the floor, she went through to the kitchen. There were no dishes in the sink, confirming her suspicion that Sam hadn't eaten properly for a few days so her first task was to check the fridge and cupboards to see what she could come up with. She struck lucky with frozen mince, some penne pasta and a jar of bolognaise sauce and set the mince in the microwave to defrost while she put the kettle on.

Sam was so long upstairs that the tea Sheelagh made was half-cold by the time she appeared in the doorway with red-rimmed eyes. Though she spotted her recent tears, Sheelagh didn't draw attention to them, gesturing instead to the mug and earning a weak smile in return.

'Gina says to go in first thing to make a detailed statement,' Sheelagh said as she sat down.

'If nothing happens in the meantime,' Sam replied knowingly. 'It's all right, I know the drill, remember? You need to ask me some questions, don't you? Go for it.'

With the table between them, Sheelagh could almost kid herself they were in an interview environment. In all honesty, the fact that a FLO was supposed to be probe as well as support had passed her by completely. She never intended to interrogate Sam on her relationship with Abi; she just needed to be there for her. However, Sam had opened up the floor for questions and that meant that she wanted – needed – to talk about it. Sheelagh cleared her throat and wrapped her hands around her mug.

'I know Abi's disappeared before,' she said carefully. 'Does this feel like that?'

Sam blinked at the query; perhaps she'd been expecting something else. 'I don't know. Then it was just obviously to scare me; she was back within the day. She left a note on the fridge – in magnetic alphabet actually – and there was nothing like that this time. She made me worry, she made her point and she came home.'

'Does she want to hurt you now?' Sheelagh asked.

'Oh, yeah,' Sam murmured. 'As much as she did then but this feels... I don't think she'd be able to resist walking back in and yelling at me. That's what she does, that's what she's good at.'

Sheelagh swallowed. 'She hit you the other week.'

'That was a one-off,' Sam said.

'It wasn't,' Sheelagh replied. 'After she learned about Glenn, you said she hurt you then.'

'No, that makes it sound premeditated,' Sam answered with a shake of her head. 'It's anger, that's all. She's so angry. I understand that, I do. But anger does not equate to depressed and she wouldn't... She's sixteen, Sheelagh. She's got her entire life ahead of her. She's bright, she's...caring. I mean, she does a much better job of looking after me than I do of looking after her. I know – I know that isn't the way it should be. I wish I was better at this but I'm not.'

'You do okay,' Sheelagh said quietly.

'No,' returned Sam, 'I don't. If I did...'

The unfinished sentence hung between them like a grenade. Sheelagh knew exactly what Sam was alluding to – she was suggesting that things would be different between them if she was 'better' but that was rubbish.

'Listen to me,' Sheelagh answered finally, 'your problem isn't that you don't care, it isn't even that you don't show it. Abi knows that. Sure, she gets frustrated but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you.'

Sam seemed to be drinking in her words then her demeanour suddenly shifted again. It looked like she was closing up like a clam and Sheelagh instinctively knew that her session as official FLO was over. She rose and put the kettle on to boil for the spaghetti while she set the mince frying. All the time, she kept her eyes averted from Sam's – for both their sakes. If there was a 'right time' for the conversations they needed to have then this certainly wasn't it. More than ever, she understood how Sam had repressed her feelings for so long – there was never a good time to talk about it.

While she cooked, Sam sat at the table lost in her own little world. Only when Sheelagh placed their plates down did a glimmer of recognition that she was even there cross her face, quickly followed by a flash of guilt that she'd forgotten. Sheelagh just shook her head and passed her some cutlery before settling down opposite her. The thick atmosphere diffused slowly as Sam evidently made a concerted effort to eat and Sheelagh appreciated her show of hunger. Anyone who said that Samantha Nixon didn't care didn't know a thing about her. At the moment, if that included her daughter, then it might explain what was going on here.

Sam ate half her dinner then pushed it away. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' Sheelagh replied. 'You get points for trying. Are you tired?'

'It's barely eight o'clock,' Sam said. 'Besides, I couldn't sleep.'

'Like you didn't last night?' questioned Sheelagh shrewdly. When Sam grimaced, she continued, 'I can read you like a book. You know you need to sleep, I want you to at least try.'

'How can I?' Sam demanded in a plaintive voice. 'How can I go to bed like nothing's happened? I need to be out there looking, I need to be doing something.'

'I know that,' Sheelagh said, 'I know how difficult this is for you. Listen, all I want is for you to sit down somewhere comfortable – say, the sofa – and see what happens. You don't have to go upstairs if it feels too much like giving up.'

Sam's lips parted but eventually she nodded. 'I still won't sleep.'

'I'll make you a cup of camomile tea,' Sheelagh suggested.

'I don't have...' Sam let out a snort. 'You actually brought camomile tea.'

'Sure,' she said, 'I carry it everywhere, don't I? You never know when it might come in useful.'

With a little smile, Sam rose. After glancing at the plates, she wisely left them alone and went through into the living room. Sheelagh cleared the table and set the crockery to soak then was about to follow her through when soft music filtered through the house. It was ABBA, of course it was, but a song she didn't recognise for the first few lines. Then her heart constricted.

"The feeling that I'm losing her forever,

And without ever entering her world,

I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter,

That funny little girl..."

Passing into the living room, she found Sam crunched up on the sofa with her knees under her chin. Without hesitation, Sheelagh sat down beside her and wrapped her in her arms. For a moment, Sam fought it but then she relaxed into the embrace and let her tears fall. As the song trailed off, Sheelagh stretched for the stereo remote and paused the next track then squeezed Sam as hard as she possibly could. In return, Sam simply clung to her and cried. They didn't speak but, then, they didn't need to.

Eventually, the tears subsided and Sheelagh released her slowly. She surveyed her blotchy face then kissed her cheek and went in search of tissues in the kitchen. There was no need. By the time she returned, whether it was thanks to exhaustion or a full belly, Sam's eyelids were drooping.

Sheelagh kneeled down in front of her. 'Give in to it.'

'I can't,' Sam murmured, briefly squeezing her eyes shut. 'I have to stay awake.'

'No, you don't,' Sheelagh told her. 'Come on, lie down.'

Although Sam continued to protest, she shuffled along the sofa and rested her head on a cushion, bringing her legs up. She was still making a valiant effort to keep her eyes open. Her arguments faded into a yawn and Sheelagh resting a hand on her cheek put paid to any renewed ones. Meeting Sheelagh's gaze, Sam gave in and every muscle in her body seemed to relax.

'You won't leave, will you?' Sam questioned and Sheelagh couldn't tell if she meant tonight or generally. She didn't suppose it mattered; the answer was the same.

'I won't,' she promised.

'Okay,' Sam whispered then her eyelids finally fluttered shut.

Sheelagh stroked her cheek tenderly before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead, earning the slightest twitch of her lips. Then she settled back on her heels and continued stroking Sam's cheek until her breathing regulated and she gave way to sleep. Exhaling, Sheelagh somehow managed to tear her attention away from Sam's lips, though she kissed her forehead again before she could bring herself to move.

After that, she didn't quite know what to do with herself. She washed up – quietly – and had a cup of camomile tea. She sent Connor a message and checked in again with Gina, to no avail. Then she hovered in the living room and just watched Sam sleep for a little while. There were nights Sam must've done this for her and she wondered whether she'd felt the same mix of love, desire and protection that was hurtling through her veins at the moment.

A yawn of her own, perhaps an hour later, prompted her to go upstairs to bed. She secured the house and picked up her bag, creeping up the staircase as quietly as she possibly could. Only when she reached the top did she realise her conundrum.

Sleeping in Abigail's room – as she had last time – was wholly inappropriate under the circumstances. However, the prospect of sleeping in Sam's bed set her whole body on fire. That felt as disloyal given the situation. All of a sudden, though, she recalled that she'd once compelled Sam to sleep in her own bed – after Niamh – and she wondered how on earth she'd managed that. It urged her forward into the room, however, and she saw the bed covers still rumpled from Sam's failed attempts at sleep last night. She almost hated herself for the spasm of desire that sent through her body then she realised that was probably entirely normal under the circumstances.

So she ploughed on into the room and rested her bag beside the bed. She went through the motions of unpacking, changing and going to the bathroom then returned to the bedroom. After flicking the light off, she slipped into the bed and was immediately enveloped in a scent she could only describe as 'Sam'. Burrowing her head into the pillow, she tried to avoid the inappropriate places her mind was insisting on wandering to – with limited success.

---

She awoke with a start.

It was still dark outside but something had obviously woken her. Sheelagh tried not to move, although she opened her eyes slowly. There was a silhouette in the doorway, shoulder pressed to the door jamb, watching her.

Sheelagh was torn between demonstrating she was awake and pretending she was asleep. While it was one way of breaking the wall of silence between them, she knew it was hardly the right time. In the end, Sam took the decision out of her hands by turning and creaking down the staircase. Sighing, Sheelagh rolled onto her back and tried to control herself. How was it she'd turned into this woman who couldn't control her thoughts and impulses? Sam was going through hell and, here she was, wanting nothing more than to take her pain away in any inappropriate way she could.

She checked the clock on the bedside table and found it was after four. Since she was wide awake anyway, and could hear Sam moving about downstairs, she decided to cut her loses and get up. It took her a few minutes to freshen up then she descended the stairs and found Sam in the kitchen brooding over a cup of coffee. She jumped on seeing her.

'Sorry, did I wake you?' she asked.

'Not at all,' Sheelagh lied. 'How long have you been up?'

'Not long,' Sam answered after a few seconds. 'I'm surprised I managed to sleep till this time.'

'Do you feel better?' Sheelagh queried as she moved to fill the kettle.

Rising, Sam nudged her out of the way. 'Come on, you know my coffee's better than yours.'

Sheelagh shifted and let her get on with it. Her attention was caught by the flush on Sam's cheeks and she wondered what on earth she'd been thinking of when she disturbed her. No doubt she was currently berating herself for thinking about anything except Abi, but Sheelagh couldn't join in with that – not if the whole situation was connected, as she was beginning to think it was.

When they both settled at the table, Sheelagh carefully said, 'The DCI'll want to talk about why Abi might've done this.'

'I know,' Sam said curtly.

'Is there anything you need to tell me?' Sheelagh asked. 'Anything that might explain why now?'

'She hasn't committed suicide,' answered Sam with a bite in her voice.

'I didn't say she had,' Sheelagh pointed out. 'If she's run away again – why's that?'

Somehow, Sam was back on the defensive. She drained her coffee in one long gulp and scraped back her chair. 'It's not gonna help, talking about any of this. I need to shower. I want to be in as early as the DCI.'

Sheelagh sighed as she watched her go. It was classic flight-mode, though she could excuse it right now. Sam felt guilty because, whatever disagreements she'd had with Abi in recent months, they stemmed from an inability for her to admit to her feelings. She might've managed to bury that under exhaustion and appreciation last night, but it was back with a vengeance right now. All Sheelagh could do was ride the wave and be there for her in any way she needed.

With that in mind, she set about cobbling together some breakfast. It ended up being Pop Tarts and she vividly remembered Sam giving her the same breakfast the morning after the area car crash. She'd claimed they were Abi's, even if Sheelagh had never been entirely convinced on that point.

When she heard Sam descending the staircase, she popped them into the toaster and they were nearly done by the time she made her appearance in the kitchen. Seeing what she was up to, Sam sat down relatively meekly and Sheelagh put down her plate along with a second cup of coffee without any response. Then she left her be to go get showered and dressed herself.

She deliberately took her time up there. While Sam might want to be in early, it wouldn't do any good to be there before Jack had got his bearings. The search would only just be getting underway now that dawn was breaking and there hadn't been any further developments or Sheelagh would've heard. She needed to stall Sam and a lengthy shower was one way of doing that. She suspected that she wouldn't dare draw to attention to the machinations and she was right. Although Sam was evidently eager to leave by the time Sheelagh got herself together, she didn't mention her delaying tactics outright and they made it into the car without any complaint. Then, however, Sheelagh became aware of just how agitated Sam was and realised they had a real day of it ahead. The sleep had done her good, sure, but it had also replenished her reserves of anxiety, and they took some combating on a good day.

They got to the station at literally the same time as DCI Meadows. He raised a hand to them as they pulled up then hurried into the station, as though Sam was about to have a go at him for not being there all night. Sheelagh parked up and Sam was out of the car before she had chance to think about it. She found herself chasing her and managed to catch up just as she walked through the front doors.

Then Sam faltered in the front office. She didn't know where to go, Sheelagh realised, and rapidly took the decision out of her hands by steering her towards the door with the slightest touch to her spine.

'Coffee,' she said. 'Give the DCI time to get up to speed.'

Sam seemed to recognise it was the right call. Either that or she'd deferred to Sheelagh's better judgement – both were a possibility. Nevertheless, the coffee stretched for quite some time and the relief were called into a briefing before they'd finished in the canteen. They'd barely exchanged a word since they left the house but, somehow, they didn't need to. Sheelagh watched her every movement as her eyes darted around the canteen and, finally, took pity on her with an almost-imperceptible nod. Sam was immediately on her feet and Sheelagh caught up with her halfway along the corridor.

The briefing was already in progress. Sam drew to a halt outside and peered through the blinds. Sheelagh stood at a respectful distance – aware that Sam was barely acknowledging her existence right now – and listened to Jack brief the troops. She learned, to her surprise, that Abi had broken up with Craig Olson last week, something that must've been passed on via Gina because Sheelagh didn't know a thing about it. The way Sam's fist clenched at her side suggested that she recognised the omission but, like a lot of things, they weren't dealing with that right now.

Sheelagh listened as carefully as she did to the end of the briefing, learning that Jim and Yvonne were tasked with visiting the college to talk to Abi's friends and that the investigation was being led jointly by Jack and Gina. That was a relief – Sheelagh could only imagine how Sam would react to Manson's involvement at the moment.

The briefing broke up and the relief trooped out of the room, most of them averting their eyes from Sam. When Jack and Gina came out last, Sam stood a little taller.

'Guv?' she said.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he said, 'Let's go to my office.'

Sheelagh felt the undeniable relief of not being the only one trying to protect Sam anymore as she fell into step with Gina. On a personal level, she could give it her best shot, but Sam needed to know that the search was being taken seriously and this was a step towards that. Gina slackened her pace so that Sam and Jack were out of earshot.

'How's she holding up?' Gina asked.

'Well, she slept,' Sheelagh answered evenly.

Gina raised an eyebrow. 'How'd you manage that one?'

She shrugged and didn't respond. Everything that had passed between them last night felt too muddled to share with even a sympathetic friend like Gina. No, she needed to see how today played out and – especially – this meeting. Then she faltered at the top of the staircase.

'What?' Gina queried.

'Maybe it's best if I'm not there,' she said. 'I don't want to make things more awkward for her.'

'That suggests you think it's all connected,' Gina pointed out.

'It might be,' she admitted, 'but the priority has to be finding Abi. I don't want to push her too hard; she's already blaming herself enough as it is.'

The argument was a sound one and Gina seemed on the brink of accepting it. Then a familiar head popped back through the double doors that led onto the upstairs corridor.

'Sheelagh?' Sam murmured with her brow creased.

Common sense went out of the window as Sheelagh's heart took over. She nodded and followed her across to Jack's office without another thought, barely aware of Gina on her heels. Once in the office, Jack settled behind his desk and Sam took the seat opposite him. Gina offered Sheelagh the spare chair at the back of the room, but she shook her head, electing to stand just out of Sam's field of vision with her arms crossed instead. She didn't want to interfere; she just needed Sam to know she was there if required. Before she focused her attention on Jack, though, Sam glanced over her shoulder to check she was still there. That didn't go unnoticed by either Jack or Gina as they exchanged a look.

'So,' Jack began carefully, 'can you tell me when you last saw Abigail? What happened?'

Sam took a tremulous breath. 'I was late, rushing around, panicking as usual. She was making breakfast. I grabbed a piece of her toast, kissed her goodbye. Luckily, I was able to get home early the night before so we could talk about her birthday and how she wanted to celebrate it.'

Sheelagh was picturing all that in her head, imagining the Nixon kitchen with the early-morning sun peeking through and a bit of affection between mother and daughter. They see-sawed back and forth between affection and antagonism pretty regularly, so it seemed, and that meant there was definite love there. You didn't get so frustrated with someone if you simply hated them. She'd seen that with Abi's little pointed demonstration at the station – she wanted Sam to give in and be happy. You didn't do that if you didn't care.

'And she was looking forward to that?' Jack asked.

When Sam nodded, Gina pressed, 'And you can't think of anywhere that Abigail might've gone?'

'No, not that I know of,' Sam replied.

'Her dad's?' Gina suggested.

Sam's shoulders stiffened. 'No, erm, I rang him, he hasn't heard from her.'

Sheelagh made a mental note to probe deeper into that conversation later. There was a part of her that was jealous of Glenn in the same way that Sam must've been jealous of Patrick and Des. However, she knew that Sam's revulsion for Glenn outweighed any love she'd once had for him. But he'd turned into one of those things they never mentioned and, really, Sheelagh didn't know what sort of relationship Abi had with her father these days.

'So what about this ex-boyfriend, Craig Olson?' Jack questioned. 'I mean, when they split was she...'

'Was she depressed?' Sam concluded for him. 'No. I definitely would've known.'

'Well, kids don't always tell their parents what's going on, do they?' he returned reasonably.

Sheelagh watched the slight tremor of Sam's shoulders as a long pause ensued. It might have been said in an off-hand way by Jack but the implication that her relationship with Abi was irreparably fractured coming from him obviously struck a nerve. The intricacies of the mother-daughter dynamic were something that Sheelagh was only just getting her head around, and she had love on her side. To an outsider, it probably just looked like an unholy mess.

'You think that I'm so wrapped up in my life that I wouldn't even notice that my daughter was suicidal?' Sam questioned finally. 'Is that what you're getting at?'

She stood, the chair rocking back behind her. Sheelagh darted forward and saved it from capitulation then rested a warning hand on Sam's arm. It had the desired effect and the tension in the office seemed to diminish a notch. It was strange; everyone in the room knew why that was but none of them were talking about it.

'Look,' Jack said after a moment, 'if you want to talk to somebody else...'

'No, no, I don't, I'm sorry,' Sam said, her voice hoarse with tears. She sat down and Sheelagh returned to her position by the door. 'I didn't approve of Craig, but it was Abi that broke it off with him.'

'Was she seeing anybody else?' asked Jack. 'We know after the affair with Matthew Boyden that she was attracted to older men.'

'No,' Sam replied then she sighed and Sheelagh could imagine the cogs working. 'These clothes – her clothes – the ones they found by the river.'

'They're still at the lab,' Gina supplied. 'Also, the divers haven't found anything yet which is a good sign.'

Sam scoffed a little. 'No. They could be searching down there all day, couldn't they?'

All of them knew the accuracy of that statement. The old calming tactics they used with distressed members of the public wouldn't wash with Sam and Sheelagh felt a vague rush of panic. When Sam spoke again there were fresh tears in her voice and all she wanted to do was hold her.

'There's miles of river,' Sam murmured. 'She could be washed downstream, out to sea, anything. It's just a question of time, isn't it? Oh, I'm no good like this, Guv! If I could just be more involved...'

As Sheelagh grimaced, Jack replied, 'You know that's not a good idea.'

'Well, I can't just sit here,' Sam snapped.

She was making a concerted effort to appear stronger than she was, Sheelagh knew that much. To be fair, both Jack and Gina probably knew it too, but Sheelagh was the only one who recognised what it cost her. Even so, she'd support the illusion if it helped Sam.

Jack hesitated. 'So what about her friends?'

'I phoned everyone in her address book – nothing,' Sam answered. 'I've got her diary though, there's stuff in there. A doctor's appointment.'

'Okay,' he said slowly, 'well, if you want to follow that up, that's fine.'

'Jack!' Gina admonished as Sheelagh offered him a small smile.

'But if you go off like a loose cannon you're not gonna be any help to anybody,' he warned Sam, 'so work from here and if you hear anything I wanna hear about it immediately.'

Sam jumped up. 'Yeah. Thank you.'

She spun around and met Sheelagh's eye. In that brief look, she knew exactly how the next few minutes would pan out and simply nodded, pulling the door open and allowing Sam to pass through before closing it again.

'She's just going to clean herself up,' Sheelagh explained when both her superior officers stared at her. 'Don't worry.'

Jack let out a soft sigh. 'You two are still skirting around the subject, I take it?'

'Yes, Sir,' she answered, not even bothering to question how he knew she was finally on the same page. It was probably Gina who'd told him but, even if it wasn't, she didn't particularly care right now. 'I'm not sure there's anything I can add to what she's told you.'

'How did Sam seem last night?' Jack asked.

'Distraught,' she said. 'Heartbroken, confused, frustrated. Everything you'd expect. With respect, Sir, the job of a FLO might be to spy on the family but I'm not doing that. I'd rather take unpaid leave and look after her on my own terms.'

'I'm not asking you to spy,' he said, holding up a hand. 'My priority is finding Abigail and I'm sure yours is too.'

Her combative stance eased. 'Of course.'

'Keep an eye on her, Sheelagh,' Jack said, 'that's all I want from you. Don't let her run off and impede the investigation. She'll listen to you.'

'Yes, Sir,' she said. 'Thank you. Oh,' she added, pulling out the bundle of keys, 'could you send an officer to collect Sam's car from the waste ground near Barker's Quay?'

Although his face betrayed a touch of surprise, he took the keys. 'Sure.'

'Sheelagh,' Gina put in before she reached for the door handle again, 'use my office for the duration, all right? Keep it contained.'

She nodded then slipped out of the office, grateful for the fresh air that hit her on the landing. As much as she might've craved a few moments to gather herself together, she knew that Sam would be chomping at the bit to get moving on the doctor's appointment. So she steeled herself and went downstairs to the bathroom. Sure enough, Sam was leaning against the wall outside, though she was doing her best not to look impatient. She'd washed her face and there was no trace of the tears Sheelagh knew were lurking beneath the surface. Taking her lead from that, she merely indicated along the corridor.

'We can use Gina's office,' she explained.

Sam accompanied her without a word. She was evidently making a sincere effort not to show her emotions to everyone else in the nick. The colleagues they passed shot them curious looks and that just seemed to feed into Sam's determination to act as though she didn't much care her daughter was missing. Perhaps it would fool them, but it could never fool Sheelagh. That was why, the second they were safely in Gina's office, she closed the blinds and gave them a bit of privacy. She suspected that Sam's mask would stay up for as long as possible – to protect herself – so she proceeded accordingly. While Sam extracted two thin books from her jacket pocket, Sheelagh logged on to Gina's computer in case they needed the systems or the internet.

Flicking open the smaller book, Sam read a few pages intently. 'The doctor's appointment was meant to be a couple of days ago, after the first night she didn't come home. They could've been the last ones to see her.'

'Okay,' Sheelagh said carefully. Despite stating the seriousness of the appointment, Sam remained motionless. After a moment, Sheelagh continued, 'Maybe it's best if I make the call, hmm? You know what surgeries are like for privacy and announcing yourself as DS Nixon might make it sound more personal than professional.'

Sam's nod may have been curt, but Sheelagh saw the relief in it. Without drawing attention to that, she gestured for the address book and found the number of the doctor's in Abi's untidy handwriting. Knowing that Sam was watching her every move should've been unsettling but Sheelagh was used to it by now. As she picked up the receiver and dialled the number, she made a conscious decision to put the call on speakerphone. Sam didn't have time to do anything more than mouth a 'thank you' before the call was answered.

'Grey's Road Surgery,' the receptionist trilled. 'How can I help you?'

'Hello, my name's PC Sheelagh Murphy, Sun Hill,' she replied. 'I'm investigating the disappearance of one of your patients, Abigail Nixon. She's been officially reported missing and I understand she had an appointment with your surgery a few days ago.'

'I'm afraid I can't divulge that information,' the receptionist replied.

'Sure,' Sheelagh said as Sam rolled her eyes across the desk. 'I could get a warrant. In this case, that's not going to be a problem. Abigail's a vulnerable young woman who's been missing from home for three nights. Now, if you check your records, you'll find that her appointment with you was after the first of those nights. I'm not asking for her medical history, I'm just asking if you were the last person to see her. It could've been you personally,' she added. 'In which case, you become a vital witness. We can come down and talk to you –'

'She didn't turn up,' the woman cut in.

'Thank you,' answered Sheelagh before ending the call without a pleasantry.

Sam's eyebrows were raised. 'Where did you learn to play dirty?'

'I learned from the best,' she retorted, glancing through the pages of the address book. 'She's got a lot of numbers in here.'

'Mostly acquaintances, I think,' Sam said with a shrug. 'None of them seemed to have anything useful to say when I spoke to them. Maybe if...'

Though the sentence trailed off, Sheelagh anticipated its direction. 'Well, now that it's an official inquiry, I can run through them again. Make yourself comfortable.'

'Yes, PC Murphy,' Sam murmured with obvious affection.

'Say it with a little more respect next time,' Sheelagh retorted as she picked up the phone again.

For the next hour she trawled through the numbers in the address book, most of which belonged to people who claimed they weren't friends with Abi anymore. She put many of the calls on speakerphone for Sam's benefit, although that resulted in a few winces when some of Abi's mates suggested she'd just run away and not to worry about it. At least Sheelagh felt convinced they were getting accurate information from the way most of them just spewed their guts then hung up. While with the doctor's surgery she'd needed to use threats, now a little forthright sympathy seemed to do the trick. From the way Sam was looking at her, she suspected that she was somehow impressing her right now, even if she'd swap that in a heartbeat for some positive news about Abi.

Eventually, Sheelagh was forced to clear her throat and rest her hand on the address book as Sam shifted in her seat.

'Glenn,' Sheelagh said softly.

With a sigh, Sam looked up. 'He's not interested. I told him she was missing and he wasn't even bothered about it. He said she'd turn up,' she added, snorting. 'Then, when I had a go at him, he blamed me. He said that maybe he'd know more about where Abi might be if I hadn't kept her from him all those years. She's missing and he turned it into a point-scoring exercise.'

It took all of Sheelagh's self-restraint not to let her mouth run away with her. There would've been swear words involved and, besides, Sam needed her to be the calm and reasonable one at the moment. So she swallowed down her anger and kept her voice level.

'Do you want me to call him?' she asked.

'Abi's not there,' Sam said, tears mixing with anger in her eyes. 'They barely communicate. He might blame me for that, but he doesn't call or email, he just... He's not a father. That's what she wanted, she wanted a fam...'

The unspoken word hung in the air until Sheelagh suffocated it by saying, 'Unless something crops up, I don't think we need to bother him again. He's not a part of this.'

Sam seemed to appreciate that. After wiping her eyes, she looked back to the diary and said, 'I'm going to have another read through this.'

'Okay.' Sheelagh paused. 'I need coffee. How about you?'

When she nodded, Sheelagh rounded the desk and placed a hand on her shoulder briefly before leaving the office. She made sure to shut the door behind her, partly to afford Sam some privacy but also to ensure that none of the gossip that was probably swirling around the nick met her ears.

Going along to the canteen, she picked up two Galaxy bars and ordered a couple of coffees. While she was adding milk, she heard voices from the queue and immediately stiffened.

'If you ask me, Abigail Nixon's in over her head,' Yvonne was saying to someone beside her. 'Me and Jim've brought this fella in but he's just one perv out of a mountain of pervs. Don't suppose I'm surprised. From what I know of –'

'Thanks,' Sheelagh said loudly to the server as she picked up the coffees. Pointedly, she walked past Yvonne's horrified face and ignored the apologies sent in her direction.

Back at Gina's office, she found Sam still scrunched up over the diary. She took a deep breath then placed the coffee beside her and dug out one of the chocolate bars.

'Eat this,' she instructed.

Something in her tone brokered no argument. Sam opened the chocolate meekly and began eating then washed it down with a bit of coffee. Only when the wrapper was crumpled up on her lap did Sheelagh perch on the edge of the desk and broach a tricky subject.

'Okay,' she said carefully, 'I want you to listen and not go off all guns blazing.'

Sam frowned. 'What?'

'Jim's brought someone in for questioning,' she answered. 'I don't know the details, but I can go upstairs and ask.'

'I'm coming with you,' Sam announced, standing.

Sheelagh grabbed her arm and gestured to the coffee. 'You drink that or you're not going anywhere.'

Although she growled, Sam nevertheless drained what was a scorching cup of coffee and dumped the cup in the bin. 'Happy?'

'Ecstatic,' she returned. 'Come on.'

She followed Sam up the staircase, marvelling at her ability to make every step sound like a clap of thunder, then into the DCI's office when she knocked and entered without waiting for permission. Jack was sat behind the desk but looked up as they barged in.

'Guv?' Sam queried. 'What's going on? I heard Jim brought someone in. Has Abi's body –'

'No, no, it's nothing like that,' he replied and they both let out a sigh of relief. 'But we do have a lead. Have you ever heard of a Sian Hicks? Did Abigail ever mention her? In her diary, answer phone messages, anything like that?'

Sam took a moment to consider that carefully. 'No, what's this about?'

'Well, Abigail and this friend of hers, Sian, they set up a website together,' Jack explained.

'What sort of website?' Sam asked.

'I don't want to go into details, okay?' he returned. 'We're having the computer examined –'

'Are you hiding something from me?' Sam cut in.

'No,' Jack insisted awkwardly, 'but we have to establish the facts before –'

'Guv,' interrupted Sam, 'I need to know.'

Standing, Jack came around the desk, hovering between them.' This is just speculation, okay? But there's a chance we could be looking at an abduction. Now, I promise I'll keep you up to speed. So as soon as we get anything concrete, I'll let you know.'

Sheelagh was struggling to take this fresh information in, all the while recognising that they weren't being given the full story. She half-expected Sam to push for details but she didn't. Instead, she stood there immobile, staring into space.

Finally, she whispered, 'What's she got herself into?'

Perhaps hearing the tears in her own voice, Sam took off again. She didn't glance towards Sheelagh, probably worried if she did, she'd break completely. Sheelagh let her go, closing the door and turning back.

'I need more details, Sir,' she said.

'Of course you do,' he replied, gesturing for her to take a seat. 'Now, I haven't seen the videos myself yet. Jim's processing them and checking a few things for me. It seems that Abi and this friend were running a webcam business from above a bookies, you know the type of thing. We've got videos she's posted, nothing indecent but just enough to wind up whoever was on the other end of the computer screen.'

Sheelagh felt faintly sick. 'Is there any evidence to suggest it wasn't just webcams?'

'Yes,' he admitted. 'Now, Sian claims that it was just so that Abi could save up money to leave home, that all they do is chat and make a few suggestive remarks. The subs are sent to a PO Box and there's supposed to be no contact.'

'I sense a 'but' coming,' Sheelagh muttered.

'There was an email exchange between Abi and a client that suggested she arranged to meet him three days ago,' said Jack.

Sheelagh pressed a hand to her throat. 'And did she?'

'That's what we're trying to establish,' Jack answered. 'Jim's working on that as we speak.'

'Is that all?' Sheelagh questioned.

'For now,' he said. 'How much will you tell Sam?'

'I don't know,' she replied honestly as she stood up. 'I'll decide when I get there.'

He nodded his agreement and she left the office. Walking down the stairs, she nearly barrelled straight into Gary trotting up the steps like a puppy. Although he called an apology out, she barely heard him. The idea that Sam wouldn't have gone straight back to Gina's office had snatched at her mind and she desperately needed to make sure she was there. Finding the door open alarmed her but there Sam was, absently drinking Sheelagh's own coffee.

Exhaling, she shut the door. 'How are you doing?'

'Sorry I ran,' Sam murmured. She looked up and met her eye. 'I keep doing that, don't I?'

'You weren't running from me,' Sheelagh said, sitting on the edge of the desk. 'At least, I hope not. Listen, I spoke to the DCI and got a little more information – if you want it.'

'I don't know if I do,' she said.

She sounded so broken that Sheelagh couldn't help herself. Caressing her cheek, she leaned forward and kissed her forehead. It was just like last night, the only difference being that Sam was fully alert and aware of what was going on. That apparently changed everything. Although she inclined into her embrace, it only took a few moments for her to draw back sharply.

'I need to know what's going on,' she said suddenly. 'I need to find Jim.'

Sheelagh sighed, though she hadn't missed the abject panic in Sam's eyes. It was some consolation to know that she was petrified and wasn't pushing her away for any other reason apart from that. Yet that translated to action on Sam's part and she stormed out of the office without a backward glance, the door smashing back on its hinges.

Wincing, Sheelagh stayed put. She didn't get the impression that her company would be welcome right now, so she just leaned against the door jamb and contemplated getting herself another cup of coffee. Sam needed to blow off steam and, since she didn't have access to her car at the moment, she couldn't get into too much trouble. Despite her apparent desire for distance, Sheelagh was under no illusions that Sam still needed he. She was probably just afraid of how much and what possibilities that threw up. If she truly thought that Abi's desire for a family was at the root of all this then there'd be no limit to how much Sam could criticise herself. She thought this was all her fault.

Her musings were cut short by Sam reappearing from the direction of the staircase. Seeing her standing there, she slowed her step, just long enough for Sheelagh to understand that she could tag along if she wanted. Of course, the unspoken element was that Sam needed her and she couldn't deny her that. More than that, she wouldn't.

She followed Sam along to BIU where she peeked through the blinds then burst through the door. Jack and Jim were in there, obviously watching a video of Abi from the way they both jumped out of their skin. Jim began protesting that she shouldn't be there, but Jack held up a hand.

'It's all right, Jim,' he said then turned his attention back to the doorway. 'You're all right, come in. Are you sure you wanna see this?' he asked as he closed the door.

'Yeah,' Sam said firmly.

Sheelagh kept a careful eye on her demeanour as she sat down at the computer and clicked through the website to a video of Abi sitting on a bed, blowing a kiss at the camera. Although she was still trying to maintain a facade, Sam reached an arm back and Sheelagh couldn't help but take it as she listened to Jack.

'Right,' he said, 'now I told you Abi had got involved with this website? Well, three days ago she arranged to meet one of the subscribers.'

'Have you managed to ID him?' Sam questioned, transfixed by her daughter on the screen.

'He calls himself Number One Fan,' Jack said. 'We traced some of the emails he sent back to a terminal at the headquarters of Barlett's Bank.'

'We've got a team down there now, picking him up,' Jim supplied.

The video had frozen on the final frame and Sam's shoulders were rigid. Silence settled over the room as all four of them stared at Abi's face.

'We're getting there, Sam,' Jack said.

A knock on the door disturbed them. Sam nearly gave herself whiplash standing and spinning around and Sheelagh was forced to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her steady. It looked like Sam's reservations about close proximity had faded since she leaned into her shoulder.

It was Gina who entered. 'Jack? Guy from Barlett's?'

'Go on,' he said.

Gina glanced around the room, obviously wary of speaking in front of Sam. 'Well, he wasn't at the bank, didn't turn up for work today.'

'Have they tried his home address?' Jack questioned.

'There's no need,' Gina said. 'He's just turned up, walked in, he's in the front office.'

'You stay here,' Jack warned Sam before calling Jim and Gina after him and striding out of sight.

Left alone with Sam, Sheelagh pointedly closed the door to remove the temptation to follow them. Strangely, it seemed Sam didn't want to. Perhaps she was too afraid of what she'd learn if she did. So, instead, she crumpled back into the chair in front of the monitor and proceeded to poke around the website Abi and her friend had set up. In the meantime, Sheelagh sat out of her line of sight and settled to thinking.

Thanks to Sam running away again, she hadn't had chance to tell her any of what Jack had told her upstairs. Sure, she now knew about the website and the fact that Abi had arranged to meet up with a client, but she didn't know that her daughter was saving up money to leave home. That little nugget of information was as inflammatory as Abi's desire for a family, and they weren't touching that one. With any luck, this guy would shed some light on what had happened and they'd never need broach the subject. Sheelagh knew the sort of heartache she'd gone through herself with the boys not wanting to stay with her if they could help it and this was much worse – this was likely to be permanent if Abi had anything to do with it. Losing Abi for good, given the reason for their estrangement, would break Sam's heart and Sheelagh didn't know how they'd recover from that. Knowing that she'd succeeded in pushing Abi away could well cause Sam to clam up completely. When she'd run away at the wedding it had been the immediate fear taking over but there was more than that in Sam's reluctance to cross the line between them. It was self-preservation, the remnants of what Glenn had done to her all those years ago. She'd locked up her heart and thrown away the key a long time ago, but Sheelagh had wormed her way in and that scared Sam more than anything else.

Eventually, her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Both of them looked up as Jim sheepishly entered. There was no urgency in his frame and Sheelagh felt her hope gurgle and die. Sam evidently made the same observation.

'What did he say?' she asked softly.

'He arranged to meet Abi for lunch, as the email suggested,' Jim explained. 'She arranged the time and place, but she never showed up. Now, I've spoken to the manager of the restaurant and he confirmed that so we've let the guy go home. There was really nothing else he could tell us.'

'Nothing from their previous contact?' Sheelagh questioned when Sam's shoulders slumped.

'No,' Jim said simply. 'I'm sorry, Sarge.'

Sam just shook her head and, after a glance at Sheelagh, Jim slipped back out of the room. With him gone, the place seemed so much smaller, Sam's dejection filling up the room. Sheelagh couldn't help but think she should know how to help her at the moment and perhaps she did, but it would break Sam's down boundaries and she couldn't do that. How could she push her? Sam hadn't been able to push her for very similar reasons and Sheelagh knew now how valid those reasons were.

So they sat in tense silence until the door opened again. This time it was Gina, holding an evidence bag gingerly in her right hand.

'Erm, these clothes?' Gina said. 'Forensics have finished with them.'

This was another hammer blow, another reminder it was all real. Sam took the bag and Gina squeezed her shoulder as she passed, pretending not to notice how much Sam's hand was trembling. She shot a glance over at Sheelagh, but she shrugged weakly. It was all right Gina expecting her to know what to do at the moment, but she didn't. They were stuck in limbo, all three of them.

'I got a car to go and pick them up,' added Gina, probably just to break the silence. It worked; Sam broke from her reverie and began to look through them.

'Thank you,' she said. 'Did they find anything?'

'No,' Gina replied. 'But they reckon they spent at least one night on the sandbank.'

Sheelagh suppressed her wince. It didn't escape her notice that Sam hadn't looked at her in quite some time now and she knew it was deliberate avoidance. In some ways, it was more like self-harm. She was probably equating their entire relationship as something that had damaged Abi and had helped cause this mess. That was a myopic way of looking at it, sure, but this was Samantha Nixon. There were two ways this could be her fault and, if it wasn't that illogical reason, she'd be dwelling on the more logical one that suggested her fear had brought them all to this stage.

A few moments later Jack entered. 'The Marine Support Unit have called off the search. There's nothing more they can do.'

'They'll start again first light, will they?' Sam questioned absently.

When there was no immediate response, Sheelagh glanced between Gina and Jack. They looked shifty, although Sam hadn't noticed. Her attention was fixed on the white blouse she'd just extracted from the evidence bag.

'This isn't hers,' she went on. 'This isn't Abi's. It's mine.'

'She wears your clothes, does she?' Gina questioned.

'No, no, you're joking,' retorted Sam. 'She would not ever wear anything of mine, not in a million years.'

'She was upset,' Jack suggested, 'she grabbed the first thing to hand.'

'No,' Sam insisted. 'She would not wear this.'

Sheelagh rose, not sure what she intended to do. The expressions on Jack and Gina's faces had developed from shifty into downright sceptical. It might be reasonable when you were dealing with a member of the public but not with a colleague. Or, she conceded, not with this colleague; not with the woman she loved. She remembered seeing a certain angry look on Sam's face when Manson was questioning her about Niamh and she suddenly felt the same.

Glancing between them, Sam demanded, 'What are you thinking? Come on – tell me! I can take it.'

The way her voice cracked shattered Sheelagh's uncertainty. She stepped forward to rest a hand on her shoulder, but Sam flinched away and she let her hand fall, barely masking her hurt from the other two occupants of the office.

'I don't think she was suicidal,' Jack said finally. 'You told me she wasn't depressed and her college mates said the same thing.'

'Then why...this?' Sam queried, gesturing to the clothes on her lap.

Jack shifted his weight. 'You know that she's a good liar.'

'Yes,' she said tightly.

'Sian Hicks said that Abigail wanted to leave home,' went on Jack uncomfortably and Sheelagh grimaced.

Snorting, Sam replied, 'She's sixteen!'

'Yeah, see, you didn't want her to go so she got upset and she was angry,' Jack answered. 'We've seen before what Abigail can do when she's angry. She had the affair with Matt Boyden, you know, to get back at you. And now this lad who's been in trouble with the police.'

As reasonable as his arguments were at the moment, they struck too much of a nerve with Sam. Sheelagh could see that in the tremor of her body but, given the recent rejections, she could hardly comfort her. She felt helpless and angry on her behalf but, nonetheless, she kept silent.

Sam looked between Jack and Gina, keeping her gaze away from Sheelagh entirely. 'You think she planned it, don't you? To hurt me?'

'I think it's something to consider,' Jack admitted.

'You think I'm that appalling – that terrible a mum – that my daughter would punish me like this?' Sam queried of him then turned her attention to Gina.

She might've asked the question as a defensive reflex, but Sheelagh was under no illusions that those were the exact thoughts going through her own mind. Saying them aloud was her way of punishing herself and making them real. As she looked back to the screen, Sheelagh exchanged a glance with Gina and wondered how to proceed. Then Sam took the decision out of her hands by scraping back her chair and clutching at the clothes.

'Where's my car?' she asked.

Digging into her pocket, Gina pulled out the keys and handed them over. 'At your house.'

'Right, I'll get a cab,' Sam announced, stepping towards to the door.

Sheelagh held out an arm. 'No chance.'

'I wanna be alone, Sheelagh,' said Sam. 'Just leave me alone.'

'No,' she replied. 'I either drive you or you don't leave this nick. It's your choice but it's your only one.'

There was a flash of anger on Sam's face then it was absorbed by resignation. Out of the corner of her eye, Sheelagh saw the look that passed between Gina and Jack and recognised the outright surprise that Sam would defer to her authority, even when she plainly didn't want to. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

'Good,' she continued after a moment, 'then let's go.'

'Fine,' Sam muttered.

She stormed out of the office and along the corridor, though Sheelagh didn't rush to follow her. She knew she'd won this round and that Sam wouldn't mistake her order for a suggestion. It gave her a few seconds to steel herself for what she suspected would be quite an ordeal.

'You know what she's gonna do, don't you?' Gina questioned.

'Oh, yeah,' Sheelagh said with a grim chuckle. 'What she always does. The only difference is, I'm not going to let her. Not this time.'

Jack smiled. 'Well, good luck.'

'You're gonna need it,' Gina added.

That was a sentiment she wholeheartedly agreed with as she walked through the nick, avoiding the curious looks of her colleagues. Sam was waiting for her outside the front office, leaning against the pillar and staring into the distance. Knowing it was best that they didn't get into any sort of discussion here and now, Sheelagh motioned for them to start walking. The space Sam put between them was both pointed and painful, but she tried to mask it with a business-like demeanour that would put DS Nixon herself to shame.

Once in the car, Sam turned her gaze away and looked out of the window as Sheelagh drove in silence. She was racking her brains, trying to figure out how to break the deadlock but she really didn't know. If the roles were reversed, Sam'd know how. She always did. Not for the first time today, Sheelagh felt completely helpless and she didn't like it.

The closer they got to the house, the more desperate she got. She knew that if Sam disappeared inside, it'd be as good as slamming the door between them for good. Sam would find a way to close down, she'd cite Abi's disappearance as something she needed to concentrate on and maybe she'd succeed in fooling herself for a little while, but it wouldn't last forever. The new and improved Samantha Nixon was far too self-aware to ignore it indefinitely. However, by that time it'd be too late – they needed to sort this out now.

So when she pulled up outside the house she was out of the car before Sam and, swiftly locking up, she was by the front door before Sam even made it up the path.

Gripping her keys tightly, Sam said, 'I think it's best if you go.'

'Well, for a start, I've got a bag in there,' Sheelagh replied. 'So, open the door.'

With an audible growl, Sam edged past her and followed the instruction. Then she froze pointedly and crossed her arms. If she really thought Sheelagh was just going to get her stuff and walk out, she had another think coming. Instead, Sheelagh shut the door and faced her down.

'I asked you to go,' Sam said finally.

'There's no way I'm leaving,' she answered.

Sam swallowed and clasped her elbows so hard that her knuckles whitened. 'I don't want you here.'

'What are you gonna do?' she queried. 'Call the police?'

'Don't push me, Sheelagh,' Sam warned, her eyes showing more fear than determination.

'Don't you dare push me away,' she retorted. 'After Glenn, you weren't going to do that again and then you did. Not this time,' she went on firmly, holding her gaze. 'I'm not leaving. Go upstairs, have a bath or a shower while I find us something to eat. There's no debate happening here.'

The battle going on under the surface was reflected in Sam's face. Anyone who claimed she was impassive didn't know a thing about her, or maybe it was just that Sheelagh could interpret every flicker and wince perfectly. She knew she was winning but she didn't know if it'd last. Then Sam let out a snort and spun on her heel towards the stairs.

'Sam?' Sheelagh waited until she turned back and held out her hand. 'Keys.'

What passed over Sam's face then was something more akin to admiration than anything else, but she rapidly schooled it away as she dumped her keys into Sheelagh's outstretched hand. Turning around again, she stomped up the stairs like a sulky teenager but, really, Sheelagh had never heard a more beautiful sound. It meant that Sam had let her win and, by extension, had let her in. It was a start.

After taking the precaution of locking the door, she went through to the kitchen to make good on her promise. First, though, she did a little washing-up from the morning and listened carefully for any noise from above her. She was satisfied when she heard the bath running and began to relax for the first time since they'd left the station.

If Sam was having a bath, she'd be a while. Sheelagh took the opportunity to call the kids in turn, just needing to hear their voices. Siobhan was busy but loving enough, promising to come down in a few weeks to see her. Declan was his usually self and was definitely more interested in the football game he was playing than anything she had to say. Connor, though, she left till last. He answered the phone with concern in his voice and that made her smile even while tears filled her eyes. The conversation was a brief reiteration of the facts of the day but relaying them to her teenage son, perversely, helped and by the time she put the phone down she was almost convinced she could handle another Samantha Nixon onslaught if she got a second wind once she got out of the bath. In the meantime, she made a plate of sandwiches then left them on the table as she made a cup of tea.

Sitting down a few minutes later, she closed her eyes and tried not to think. The mug clasped in her hands went from hot to warm to almost chilly, but she just focused on the blankness behind her eyelids, trying to bury herself in it.

Then music echoed around the house and her head snapped up. As she recognised the opening bars, she shivered and opened her eyes. This time, she had to make it count.

"I stand at your gate,

And the song that I sing is of moonlight..."

Somehow, her feet took her through to the living room. There was Sam, dressed in her white bathrobe, back turned and visibly shaking. Just like she had at the wedding, Sheelagh approached carefully and turned her around before either of them could second-guess what they were about to do. This time, though, she wrapped both arms firmly around Sam's waist while Sam clasped her neck, trailing fingers through her hair as their cheeks brushed against each other.

"The stars are aglow,

And, tonight, how their light sets me dreaming,

My love, do you know, that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

I bring you and I sing you a moonlight serenade..."

If the dance at the wedding had felt intimate, this was off the scale. Sheelagh was aware of everything: the places their bodies pressed together, the tingle of Sam's breath on her neck, the way both of them were shaking a little bit. She was scared, sure she was, but she couldn't imagine not being here in this moment. She wasn't meant to be anywhere else.

However, she knew this had to come from Sam. She was the one fixated on running away – she was no doubt blaming herself right this second for being the cause of Abi's disappearance – she had to lead this. So, as the song progressed, Sheelagh began to worry that Sam would flee again. It'd be more difficult now, but it was possible. That made her cling on a bit tighter and Sam reciprocated. It made her heart ache. Oh, she couldn't lose this moment; she really couldn't.

Slowly and deliberately, Sam pulled away a touch. Sheelagh was almost afraid until she realised that Sam's green eyes were searching for hers, flaring with her own fear. She was petrified but she wasn't going anywhere – not yet. Gently, Sheelagh trailed her right hand up Sam's arm before caressing her cheek with her index finger. Sam briefly squeezed her eyes shut and succumbed to a shiver that passed through both their bodies. Then she opened her eyes again and gazed at her with more love than Sheelagh had ever expected to experience. That it was radiating from the ice queen Samantha Nixon brought a smile to her face and then her breath hitched as Sam's attention flickered down to her lips.

Sam's hands were still tangled in her hair. With one unsteady sigh, she brought Sheelagh closer – closer – until their noses brushed. Then, finally, she tilted her head slightly and pressed their lips together.

There was a moment where Sheelagh legitimately thought she might explode then she got over it and deepened the kiss. Sam let out a soft moan, drawing them even closer together, until they were both desperate for oxygen and had to suddenly split apart.

Sheelagh's panic set in almost the instant their lips parted and she swallowed hard. What if Sam ran, what if –

'I love you,' Sam murmured, her eyes directed at the carpet.

Exhaling, Sheelagh cupped her cheek and traced her thumb over her lower lip. 'I love you too,' she said. When Sam shuddered in her grasp, she asked softly, 'There, was that so bad?'

Sam raised her chin and met her eye then she finally opened her heart completely – she burst into tears. It was completely different to last night where they'd still been so much unsaid between them. This was Sam's agony and she was sharing it completely, for maybe the first time in her life.

'Oh, darling, shush,' Sheelagh whispered. She gathered Sam's head on her shoulder and smoothed down her hair. 'I've got you, it's okay.'

The tears showed no sign of subsiding. After all this time, perhaps it wasn't surprising, but Sheelagh just wanted to take away her pain. She managed to manoeuvre them both towards the sofa, settling Sam against her then grappling for the stereo remote to turn the music off. The abrupt silence was disrupted by Sam's sobs and all Sheelagh could do was hold her until she'd cried herself out.

'Jack's right,' Sam muttered finally. 'It's my fault.'

Sighing, Sheelagh kissed her head. 'He didn't exactly say that.'

'No, he was thinking it,' said Sam. 'And he was right. If Abi has run away, she left because of me.'

'Maybe you'd better tell me what happened between you,' Sheelagh answered. In her arms, Sam shifted uncomfortably and she felt as though she might pull away. 'Come on, please. I know how brave you've been tonight. Believe me, I know how hard this is for you. Just let me in.'

Sam edged away far enough to look up in her face. Eyes raw and cheeks red, she still looked gorgeous and Sheelagh couldn't help but exhale and lean forward to kiss her again. Perhaps that was the reassurance Sam needed. She settled back into her previous position, looping an arm around Sheelagh's waist as she began talking.

'Abi found out a while ago,' she explained in a trembling voice. 'When you brought Eva's letter round... She saw how I was looking at you. I couldn't help it. She said I'd never looked at anyone like that before. Then she ran it all through,' Sam continued. 'Said I'd been different since you got to Sun Hill, talked about how I'd been at the hospital with you and...'

Sheelagh stroked her hair. 'It's okay.'

'You know, she thought it was so simple,' Sam said after a moment. 'That was one of the most honest conversations I've ever had with her. It wasn't exactly by choice but... Anyway, at the time I told her in no uncertain terms that this – that – was the way it had to be. But then I thought about it and I – I tried, Sheelagh, I swear I tried.'

When her voice broke, Sheelagh pulled her closer. 'I know you did. Talk about talking, remember? Then Manson got in the way.'

Sam let out a disbelieving chuckle. 'You've got it all worked out.'

'Well, I'm getting there,' Sheelagh replied. 'What exactly did he say to you?'

'That I was putting my emotions in front of the job,' Sam said. 'That I was...mooning.'

Although she tried to suppress her laughter, it didn't quite work. Luckily, Sam joined in and they spent a good thirty seconds in stitches. That subsided and they were looking at each other again, Sheelagh's stomach twisting in a familiar way. How she'd never recognised this for what it was seemed beyond her right now.

'I'm sorry,' Sam said softly.

'For what?' Sheelagh asked.

'I've made such a mess of this,' answered Sam, caressing her cheek before kissing her again. 'I'm such an idiot.'

Sheelagh was momentarily stunned by the kiss and couldn't resist drawing her back in once more. Her fingers caught in Sam's hair and, despite telling herself they should be talking, she couldn't pull away. It just felt like an extension of the way they'd always been with each other, as though everything finally fit together. Her rationale that this couldn't be wrong because it felt so natural hit her like a wave every time Sam's tongue danced over her lips.

'Oh, God...' she murmured when they broke apart.

'Not quite,' Sam said with a glimmer of mischievousness in her expression that Sheelagh knew was reserved almost exclusively for her. It always had been. Then her smile faltered as she questioned, 'Are you all right with this?'

Nodding, Sheelagh said, 'Don't ask me how, I'm not completely sure. I just know that it feels like I'm meant to be here. But you were right, you know,' she went on when she saw fresh self-recrimination on Sam's face. 'I don't think I could've handled it before. There's a reason I buried it away, I couldn't even think of it.'

'I was the same,' admitted Sam. 'It's not like I've been hiding this from the start. It wasn't something that I –'

'I know, I know,' Sheelagh interrupted. 'Gina told me.'

Sam snorted. 'I bet she did.'

'She cares about you,' replied Sheelagh. 'Take it from someone who knows – that's not an easy job.'

'I never meant to hurt you,' Sam said, lowering her eyes. 'Or Abi. It was just... I got locked in, you know? Every time I tried, it got harder. I wanted to protect you, I wanted to protect her. It was a fantasy, that's all. It wasn't gonna happen.'

'Why?' Sheelagh pressed gently. Then, seeing the conflict on Sam's face, she shook her head. 'It's okay. It's not important right now. Tell me about Abi,' she added. 'What happened after –'

'I let Manson get to me and went a bit crazy?' Sam offered.

Sheelagh smiled and kissed her again. 'Exactly. Go on.'

Settling back down against her, Sam said, 'Well, Abi quickly figured out that I hadn't talked to you. She kicked off a bit, went quiet sometimes. I mean, that's not out of the ordinary for me and her but, deep down, I knew how bad it was. I ignored it and the rape case took over. There was a truce then,' she went on, 'like there was a truce when Joanna was missing. It helped that she wasn't around a lot. She stayed at Caroline's and I – I was grateful. She's always had a better relationship with her than me. Anyway, we got into it a few more times then the Craig Olson thing happened.'

'Tell me about that,' Sheelagh said. 'What happened between the pair of you that day? You argued about me, didn't you?'

'Yeah,' replied Sam, 'but it was more my fault than hers. I...lied to her, said I was ashamed of her and that was why I wouldn't talk to you. I told you I deserved it,' she concluded grimly.

'You were hiding, that's all,' returned Sheelagh. 'I understand that. How were things with you and her after that?'

'Better,' Sam answered. 'She calmed down a little and she was genuinely excited about the party. She even helped me pick out my dress for the wedding. It was...sweet. It was nice, normal maybe. We've never done normal well, but it felt normal.'

Sheelagh rubbed her arm. 'And after the wedding? The day you discussed the party?'

'Normal,' Sam repeated, her voice breaking again. 'That's why I don't understand. It doesn't make sense. I knew she was upset but why now?'

'Everybody has a breaking point,' Sheelagh said.

Withdrawing, Sam sat up straight and inhaled deeply. 'Do you think she jumped into the river?'

'No,' answered Sheelagh. 'I don't think that's what a breaking point is to Abi. Last time, she ran away to get you to tell her the truth about her father. I think this is as straightforward as that.'

Sam glanced over, complete trust in her face. 'Really?'

'I think...' Trailing off, Sheelagh contemplated how painful these words could be for the pair of them but, really, she knew they both needed to hear them. The tremor of her voice had prompted Sam to slide a hand hesitantly on her knee and Sheelagh covered it with her own. 'If it wasn't for our kids... Niamh made you realise, didn't she?'

'Gina told you that,' Sam murmured with the hurt evident in her tone.

'I asked,' Sheelagh said, squeezing her hand. 'I needed to know how long you'd been doing this to yourself, I needed some guidance.'

Gradually, the betrayal faded from Sam's face and she inclined her head. 'Okay, I can't argue with that. I've been using her as a drop-in counselling service for the past year.'

Sheelagh let out a chuckle. 'Fairy godmother, agony aunt... We could blackmail her for years.'

'Don't tempt me,' returned Sam then her expression became serious again. 'Yeah, you told me you were pregnant and it...hit me. I was jealous,' she added with a wry smile. 'I was jealous and I wanted to...look after you, protect you.'

'You did,' said Sheelagh. 'I've been thinking about it all, over and over. It makes a lot more sense now, but it doesn't feel that different either. It felt so natural, I suppose – the three of us. I didn't question it. Maybe I wasn't ready.'

Sam sniffed. 'It was natural. Beautiful.'

'New Year's Eve,' Sheelagh went on, aware of the tears building in her own eyes. 'I remember that. The morning after... I woke up and I heard you singing downstairs. That's how I remember her.'

When her voice cracked, Sam gathered her up, kissing her head and muttering, 'Me too.'

For a couple of minutes, she succumbed to her tears. It was a relief, to cry about Niamh with the one person who truly loved them both with nothing between them anymore. Sam cradled her as she had numerous times before but, this time, when they broke apart, she kissed her tenderly and that made the pain marginally better. Clutching at her hand, Sheelagh tried to recollect her train of thought.

'So Niamh showed you,' she managed finally, 'and Connor showed me. He thought I was a hypocrite. He made me face it, but he only had to nudge me in the right direction. I knew it; I was just deep in denial. I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologise,' Sam said firmly. 'Why would you see it?'

'Because I felt it,' she replied. 'Every time you looked at me, I felt it. I shouldn't have needed my son to stand there – broken in pieces – and tell me what I already knew. It was cruel.'

Sam's brow furrowed. 'It wasn't cruel, sweetheart, it was...human. You wanted to protect what we had because you wouldn't have been able to see past the problems. Not without Connor.'

'Maybe,' she conceded, 'but that doesn't make it okay. I hurt you and I didn't even recognise I was doing it.'

'I hurt you and I did,' Sam answered with a little bite in her voice.

Sheelagh knew exactly what she was referring to but chose to ignore it right this second. 'Where I was going with this was that Abi's responsible for tonight – for this.' She gestured between them and smiled. 'I think her goal was the same as last time. She wanted you to take action and prove you love her by opening up to me. She's a bright girl, I've always said that.'

Rendering Samantha Nixon speechless was something she was used to by now. This time, though, she didn't try to force her into words. She didn't need to anymore. Before, she'd almost always known what was going through Sam's mind – now, she could say with certainty that she could read her a hundred percent. It was more intimate than any relationship she'd ever had in her life, she knew that for sure. So she watched as the ideas flickered through her mind and saw the precise moment the pertinent point occurred to her.

'But that means...' Sam nibbled her lip.

'We can find her,' Sheelagh confirmed. 'We can bring her home.'

That overwhelmed Sam and Sheelagh took pity on her. She trailed a hand up to her neck and said, 'As far as attempts to avoid eating go, this whole night's pretty extravagant, even for you. Come on, I made you a sandwich.'

She stood and hoisted her up alongside her. It wasn't like Sam to physically lean on anyone, but she did on the short journey to the kitchen and Sheelagh couldn't help but pause and kiss her again before depositing her in the chair. Going to the fridge, she retrieved the plate of sandwiches and then squinted and pulled out a bottle too.

'Is it okay to drink wine with ham and cheese sandwiches?' she asked.

Sam smiled. 'That's not a real question, is it?'

'I'm only saying it so the blame's on you,' Sheelagh retorted. 'These aren't for decoration – eat.'

'Without wine?' Sam queried. 'What sort of heathen do you think I am?'

Sheelagh swatted her then got some glasses from the cupboard and poured both of them a liberal helping. Sitting down, she pushed Sam's glass across and snatched up a sandwich on her way back. For a couple of minutes, they ate in silence, though their eyes occasionally met and Sam flushed. Really, Sheelagh was impressed with how she was handling herself. The urge to run was obviously being fought down, or maybe it was just submerged under the relief of honesty. Sheelagh was certainly feeling that herself. She was more at ease than she'd ever been and the only pressure she felt was the pressure of finding Abi safe and well. Admittedly, that was hardly a small ask but it was one they could deal with together.

Two sandwiches each and that was about all Sheelagh could hope for. The wine seemed to be going down a little easier, however, and by the time the glass was nearly empty, Sam was actually maintaining eye contact.

'I don't know how we do this,' she admitted finally. 'Any of it – finding Abi and...everything else.'

Sheelagh sighed. Placing her free hand on the table, she waited for Sam to entwine their fingers and then she squeezed hard. 'Let's concentrate on finding Abi, okay? The rest of it can wait. All you need to know is that I love you and I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me.'

A question flared on Sam's lips then died.

'I promise,' Sheelagh said and Sam's chin lifted sharply. 'I promise,' she repeated.

One day, she'd have to ask whether anyone had ever made Samantha Nixon that promise before because she doubted it. For her part, Patrick had made it – and meant it – but she only truly understood what was lacking in their marriage in the last few weeks. Sure, relationships were difficult sometimes and you had to work hard to keep them afloat, but the fundamental elements had to be there: mutual love and understanding. Yes, she'd loved Patrick and he'd loved her, as much as you could when you were navigating three kids, a mortgage and two demanding shift jobs. But, as much as she'd understood his simple traditional personality, he'd never understood her, not really. She'd told him when she'd broken the news about her affair with Des that there must've been something fundamentally wrong with their relationship for her to stray. It was only now she understood what had been missing – the unswerving combination of loyalty, knowledge and love that Sam offered without question. It had been between them, with just a few jitters on both sides, from the very beginning.

'Now,' Sheelagh went on briskly, pointing a finger at her, 'you slept badly last night. You need to be in your own bed, no arguments. I'll take the sofa tonight.'

After a moment, Sam echoed, 'No arguments.'

'I left my bag in your room,' said Sheelagh as she drained her glass. 'Come on, I'll get it now.'

Despite knowing that it was all perfectly above-board, she still felt a fluttering in her stomach as she climbed the stairs with Sam on her heels. It wasn't easy to stop the images of her recently unearthed desires flickering in her mind, although she knew it was certainly too soon for both of them. There was too much pain and confusion swirling around and they needed time to adjust.

So she retrieved her bag without a moment of hesitation and returned to the door while Sam stood in the middle of the room looking lonely. Sheelagh had to step back and rest a hand on her cheek, searching in her eyes for the kind of connection they both craved right now. Once she found it, she smiled and closed the gap between them again. She was losing track of how many times they'd kissed by this point but, she conceded as her bag thumped to the floor, that was fast becoming irrelevant. They should've done this long ago.

Sam withdrew abruptly, a triumphant glint in her eye. 'Just trying to distract you so I could use the bathroom first.'

'Remind me again why I love you,' Sheelagh shot back. She softened the words with a peck to the lips then Sam sidestepped towards the door. 'Oi, you can wait your turn.'

'My house, my rules,' Sam announced before she disappeared onto the landing.

It was good to see that flash of her old self. It meant that Sheelagh's words and actions downstairs had broken through her defences once and for all, though it also meant she needed to make good on her vow that they'd find Abi. She had a few ideas about that already, which she'd need to discuss with Gina first thing. In her mind, the Marine Support Unit calling off the search was a good thing – Abigail was not in the Thames.

She pottered around the bedroom for a couple of minutes, turning down the covers and closing the curtains in preparation for Sam. Then she forcibly extracted herself and went to wait on the landing. When Sam emerged a few minutes later she looked almost relieved by that.

'Night,' she said carefully.

'Night,' Sheelagh returned. 'Sleep well.'

With one final look, she slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. It took her longer than usual to get ready for bed, not least because she spent three full minutes staring at herself in the mirror wondering if she'd changed somehow. As confident as she was now that this was the path she was meant to be on, a few wobbles were understandable. She'd been holding out for the switch from hope to reality for a few weeks now and, tonight, that had happened. It must be even more unsettling for Sam who'd been living with these hopes for so much longer. They needed to take this slowly – and they needed to trust each other.

Creeping out of the bathroom in case Sam had managed to fall straight to sleep, she had one foot on the top stair when she heard it.

'Sheelagh?' Sam murmured.

Her heart constricted as she turned back to the dark doorway. 'Yeah?'

Sam hesitated. 'Will you... Could you sit with me for a while?'

'Of course I will,' she answered.

Flicking off the light on the landing, she leaned her bag against the door then edged across the room. She knew the layout well enough to make it to the bed without tripping and, by then, her eyes had adjusted a bit. Sam was curled up, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. It took Sheelagh barely a moment to tug back the covers and edge her across.

'Move over, come on,' she insisted.

Sam let out her breath heavily and followed her instruction. Sheelagh slid into the bed and rested her head on the pillow. Then she stretched a hand out hesitantly and found Sam's cheek by instinct.

'It's okay,' she whispered.

There was a moment of reticence then Sam moved seamlessly into her arms. Planting one final kiss on her forehead, Sheelagh held her close and was rewarded by the wonderful feeling of DS Samantha Nixon falling asleep in her arms. It was the end to a crazy evening.