Happy Christmas Eve :)

Notes at the end!

Chapter 10

Descent

Ed was still working on the statement, or at least he was thinking about the statement. Other things had gotten in the way of writing it.

His feet were up on the desk, and he was on at least his fifth coffee. His head was tipped back and he was holding the bridge of his nose, hoping the bleeding had finally stopped. He'd been sitting like this for fifteen minutes and his neck was stiff.

On the table beside him was the bottle of pills he'd been given yesterday. He was wary of taking any more. They had made him feel more tired; a groggy, chemical kind of tired that he associated with hospitals. On the positive side, they helped his headache and made the rest of him feel less sore. And if he didn't do something to ease the ache around his nose and eyes, that statement was going to stay the way it currently was: six words that were his name, the place he'd been and the word "I" at the start.

He couldn't bear getting shouted at by Ironside at the moment, not because of annoying the Chief, but every sound would make his head thump all the more. And where was everyone anyway? They'd said they would be back, or call to tell him what was going on. But since he'd been here there'd only been one short call from Fran, and that had only been to check up on him and make sure he was here.

Moving very slowly, Ed tipped his head back forward, pushing his shoulders down to help with the crick in his neck. He took a breath in through his nose, then another when everything felt okay. A minute later he was still breathing normally, and he was sure the nosebleed had stopped. For now, anyway.

He stood, dropping yet another piece of bloodied tissue paper into the dustbin beside the table. It was filling up quickly, with the crunched up papers of the discarded versions of his statement adding to the garbage.

Ed picked up the bottle of pills and took two out, putting them next to his statement. His cup was empty. Five, or maybe six, coffees and he still felt like something you'd scrap off your shoe. Many more and he might be too jittery to walk in a straight line. But if he was going to have the pills, a coffee would help wash them down and take the unpleasant taste out of his mouth.

Still nervous about another nosebleed, Ed went to the kitchen and poured yet another coffee. He let it sit and cool beside the blank paper while he prowled round the office, not wanting to sit down just yet, feeling the need to stretch his legs.

The statements from the witnesses at the explosion were in a pile on the desk near the kitchen. He'd avoided reading them in any detail earlier, as even a quick glance at one or two had made him feel uneasy. He was usually so good at keeping himself detached, being able to make sure his personal feelings didn't get in the way of doing a good job. But skimming through what they'd said, the way those people had related their perspective on his own experiences was next to impossible to bear. Reading a description of himself dusting off his sleeve and sitting in an ambulance for five minutes, an incident he didn't even remember, was more than disconcerting.

As Ed wandered, feeling confined in the office yet anxious about leaving, he noticed another file on the small desk. Needing a distraction, he picked it up, not really looking at the name on the front. He saw as soon as he opened it that this was his complaint file from Internal Affairs. With an annoyed snort, he almost put it down again, but then he started looking at his list. Reading it, and not remembering it as the occasional extra night of overtime, he was amazed. Had he really done all that work? No wonder the division heads were annoyed. He must have been under their feet every night. The last page was by the Commissioner, a man Ed liked and respected, and someone who he had always thought was a fair man. The comments were not complimentary, but Ed was upset more by the effect this could have on the cases he'd worked on. If he was charging around doing work without pay, then all of this looked like an off-duty obsession.

An off-duty obsession? The thought made him uncomfortable and Ed shuddered. An obsession with a personal case, like the one with Dayton, was one thing. All police officers struggled with the conflict at some point. But this relentless, scatter-gun, working fixation was well beyond even the word obsession.

Ed closed the file, holding it in front of him with both hands. He couldn't keep the folder still, his hands were shaking too much.

He'd done it again. All he'd done was work. He'd barely slept, he'd barely even stopped long enough to eat. After what had happened to Anne he'd done something similar, with less that productive results, and only the Chief's intervention had saved him from the wrath of his division commander and the abrupt end of a promising police career.

Ironside hasn't stepped in this time, had he? The thought caught Ed off guard and he shuddered. Then, in a moment of unexpected anger, Ed hit his palm off the edge of the table.

He wasn't going to think about that. Suddenly, being in the office felt so unappealing that Ed almost left there and then. Shoving the file back where he'd found it, he stormed over to pick up his jacket, and saw the pad of paper and the pills.

Ed stopped, pursing his lips. Damn it. He had to finish that damn statement. He wasn't going to do a bad job, not on top of everything else.

Fine, he thought. I'll just pull up a chair and do it. Then I can go home.

He took the two pills with a mouthful of warm coffee, and sat down at the table, determined to get it over with.

'Chief Ironside?'

Fran let Tim through the door first. He had a bandage round his temple and looked unsteady on his feet. The Chief held out his hand, and the young man shook it tentatively.

'Take a seat, Tim,' he said.

As he sat, Fran came round to the other chair.

'I've told Tim what happened,' she said. 'How we found Katie.'

Tim was slowly and carefully shaking his head in amazement.

'That sergeant, he helped her?'

Ironside nodded. The smile on Tim's face spoke volumes about his affection for Katie, as well as his surprise at Sergeant Brown.

'Where is he, is he okay?'

'He's fine, Tim,' the Chief said. 'He's working or he'd be here too.'

'I feel kinda bad,' Tim murmured, looking ashamed. 'I called him a pig, to his face, I shoulda said sorry. I was, just… kinda steamed.'

'Sergeant Brown will understand, I'm sure,' Ironside said.

'So do you know what's happening?' Tim asked. 'I don't know why they're taking so long. They won't tell me anything. Is there anything? Did they tell you?'

The Chief shook his head.

'I'm sorry, Tim,' Ironside said. He glanced to the floor, feeling the weight of having to ask awkward questions when the young man was so obviously upset. This was never easy. The day I find it easy, I'll quit, he thought. He leaned forward in his chair.

'Tim, I need to get some answers,' he said. 'You know I do.'

For a moment there was deep suspicion, Tim knew the kind of questions that were coming. His lips were pressed together, but he gave a small nod.

'I wanna help Katie,' he said.

'Then we need to know what you were doing when you were in the Kingston Building,' the Chief said. 'We need to know all of it.'

'Do you think that's why Katie is like this?'

'I don't know for sure,' Ironside said honestly. 'It depends on what you did. But I think it's very likely.'

He was thinking about the so-called "list" from Kingston, with only Katie's name on it. There were others involved, he already knew that, so why just her? Tim was silent for a while.

'It started with Chad,' Tim said, saying the name with badly disguised anger. Ironside nodded, of course it was Todd Chadwick. 'He was the leader, he kinda got everyone else into it. Six or seven of us used to meet, but Chad, Katie and I usually broke in.' He glance at Ironside, the expression on his face showing that he was worried.

'We need to know, Tim,' Ironside said. 'All of it. The bad, the dangerous or illegal. All of it. If you care about Katie, you'll tell us.'

Tim nodded.

'It wasn't serious,' he said. 'Not at first.'

Ironside glanced at Fran, who looked back showing the surprise he felt. That was not what Dr Wright had told her earlier. Maybe it just depended on your perspective.

'We would go in, try and disrupt some of the experiments in the upstairs labs. There were rumours, you see.'

'About?'

'Secret stuff. Chad said it was the Government. Katie thought that too, that they were doing stuff in the labs, making stuff they shouldn't be.'

'What sort of things?' Ironside asked.

'We weren't sure, we never saw much.'

'You've no idea? What did you change? What sort of experiments?'

The chagrined look came back to Tim's face.

'It was just the things in the upstairs labs. Some industrial experiments. Catalysts and stuff like that.'

'Did you target specific experiments? By specific lab staff. Or was it just whatever you found?'

Tim looked very embarrassed.

'Mostly Dr Wright,' he admitted. 'Chad didn't like her. Said she had it in for him. Said that she marked his work down because she was jealous.'

Why was he not surprised that those two didn't get along? A man like that coming up against a brilliant female scientist that didn't suffer anyone gladly. Maybe it had all started as a chance for Chad to get back at Dr Wright, and had spiralled into something else.

'What kind of things did you do?'

'Childish, stupid stuff. We changed names on bottles, we moved equipment round, we mixed up the storage. Stupid stuff.'

Ironside looked at him carefully, thinking back to his conversation with Kingston.

'Did you write threatening letters?' he asked quietly.

Tim's reaction said it all. He snorted as if writing letters was the most idiotic thing they could have done, and Ironside got the sense he wasn't lying.

'Letters?' he replied incredulously, rolling his eyes in spite of everything. 'We were supposed to be radical!'

'So, no letters?' The Chief looked up to Fran who was looking as surprised as he felt. If the students hadn't done that, who had? 'And did you ever mix chemical t-'

'No!' Tim said, interrupting the question. 'No. Katie was very firm about that. She's good at chem class. She might not have bothered with many assignments, but she paid attention. She liked it.'

'Did she like Dr Wright?'

Time barked a sharp laugh.

'No one likes Dr Wright.'

Although he didn't usual make snap judgements, this was a woman he had only met fleetingly yesterday morning, he also had a dislike of her. Ed didn't like her, Fran didn't like her, everyone he asked didn't like her. He'd read the university's file on her this morning, a brilliant scientist that was consistently the best at anything she did. But this was not a woman who people liked.

'So what happened? Why did you pull out?'

Tim huddled himself up, crossing his arms.

'It was getting stupid. I mean more stupid. Chad was being real pushy. But they were doing stuff I wasn't into. It was more radical and, and just nasty. They kept on going on about secrets. Katie said she had a secret tip and that it was a good tip. I thought she was lying just to get the attention. She likes to be in the middle of things, she likes to get everyone steamed up and annoyed. I think she liked annoying Dr Wright.'

Ironside nodded. That sounded about right.

'I said I didn't want to do it any more,' Tim said. 'Breaking in and mucking around was kinda funny, but the rest of it wasn't. She chose that over me and I stopped speaking to her.'

Tim looked to the ground, Ironside recognised the expression of regret.

'And two nights ago?' he asked.

'The first thing I know she's banging on my door,' Tim was sounding angry now. 'She wouldn't go away, she kept on banging on the door and wouldn't let up. And when I let her in she was so strung out. She'd been crying. She said she had been given a tip that something was going down at the Kingston Building, big and dangerous and illegal and wrong. She wouldn't shut up about it.' Tim paused, and ran his hand through his hair again. 'I knew she'd taken something.'

'How?'

'I've seen it. A couple of the other kids got junk from time to time. Nothing heavy. None of us said anything, and we all kinda ignored it and covered for each other.'

Wasn't it always the same. It's just a little junk, it's small, it's okay, no one says anything, and then suddenly you're on the street hooked to coke, or worse. He felt a stab of anger, but hid it from Tim.

'Where did she get it, did she say?'

'No,' Tim said, annoyed again, and Ironside knew what he was going to say next. 'But I think it was Chad. He always had a little something. He could afford to. Not all of us have daddies in the oil business.'

'Did she say what it was?'

He shook his head.

'I didn't ask. But Chad usually had a little bit of mellow to help him chill out. I've heard he took something a bit stronger once or twice, but I never saw it. He was probably making it up.'

'What happened?'

'Katie went on and on, she told me I should help her, she said she would go on her own. I didn't believe what she said. That someone was letting her know secrets.'

'A "him"?'

Tim nodded.

'I thought she might have meant Chad, he likes pretty girls and says whatever he can to get them to like him too.'

Ironside hid his reaction to that statement as well. Tim had a pretty accurate assessment of what Chad was like.

'And was it?'

'I don't know. I mean, it might have been, but Chad is all mouth. He didn't care about the cause, he cared about the trouble. He's such a jerk. He let her go on her own, he wound her up, started all this off, then let her go into the Kingston Building on her own. Jerk!'

Tim lapsed into silence for a few moments. Ironside waited, letting the boy calm down.

'And?' Ironside asked gently.

Tim looked away, still looking annoyed, then huffed.

'That's it, I suppose,' he said. 'You know the rest. She hid, she was so scared and crying. She didn't say anything about what she'd done or what she'd seen. She was just scared.'

He stopped, staring off to the side, blinking.

'Thank you, Tim,' the Chief said. 'I know it's hard to lose what we love.'

Tim opened his mouth, ready to answer back. Then he caught sight of the Chief's chair and closed it again. He nodded.

'I'm glad she's safe. But I want to know what's going on, and why they won't tell us anything.'

Ironside leaned forward. Another one of life's hard truths, but he needed to be told, and the Chief thought that honesty was more appropriate here than trying to spare the boy any sadness. Tim could already tell that something was wrong.

'Maybe they don't know.'

Finally, he thought.

After the last full stop, Ed signed the bottom of the page with his thin, looping signature. Closing his eyes, he sat back, some of the annoyance from earlier fading away. Maybe it wasn't the most detailed statement he'd ever written, but at least there was some sort of record of what he'd done. All the bits he could remember, anyway. And that would have to be enough, because he was about at the end of his patience.

As he lent forward, he licked his lips, tasting blood yet again, and the frustration flared up. The day couldn't end fast enough. He didn't want to be here, no matter how unsafe he felt outside this room. It was like a prison cell, or a hospital room, except no one else came to visit and he might as well have been on the Moon.

His top lip was dry, and Ed sighed, relieved to have avoided another nosebleed. He couldn't stand this much longer. He didn't want to wait around here. It was too quiet. It was too isolated. He didn't feel safe here, though he couldn't put his finger on why. After reading the Internal Affairs file he'd barely been able to concentrate long enough to think in full sentences. The Chief wasn't here, so what was the point in just hanging around?

Maybe he should go home. Ed gave another long sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. He didn't want to go back to his apartment, but it was better than being here. With a shrug, he scrawled a short note to the Chief to say he was going home and put it down beside his statement.

"Gone home". Yeah, he could do that.

He would go back to his house, try and relax, and get some more sleep. After doing so much work recently, he could afford to take a night off. The idea of it made him feel edgy, the same kind of distracted, vague nervousness he had felt all day since waking up. Even so, home would be better than here. This place had walls that were slowly crushing him, and he hated the feeling of being trapped with no way out.

The sun was going down, the last light was in the sky to the west. He'd spend most of the afternoon here. Alone. He was uncomfortable about that as well. Where was everyone? Why had they sidelined him here? He should be getting on with his job not kicking his heels here in the office, doing nothing.

Ed glanced back to the statement, still uncertain.

He should try to do less, go home and have some rest. But he wanted to keep working, keep pushing himself to be better, to keep his guard up, not to give anyone the chance to take him by surprise. And the Chief would expect him to do more, he always did, he always pushed. But Bob wasn't here, was he?

The conflict made him feel torn in two, unable to make a decision. Stay, go home? Work, or rest? Trust his boss, or… He tried to stop the thought, but he failed: It's not the first time I've been left behind.

Ed screwed his eyes shut. That was not helping. That was not the problem tonight.

Bob had said to stay put and wait. Ed didn't want to wait. With every passing minute this place felt more and more unsafe, and he became increasingly indecisive.

He could go home.

He should stay here.

Bob would want him to keep pushing, keep working.

Those three things were incompatible. What was he going to do?

The phone rang, shattering the silence and making Ed jump in shock, his hand twitched toward the gun on his belt. It kept ringing, and Ed stared at it for a few seconds, thinking to just let it ring off.

But that was never going to work, was it?

With a small shake of his head, he picked up the receiver.

'Bo-R-Robert Ironside's office.' Ed's voice was slightly slurred, and the Chief wasn't exactly sure of the first word Ed had used when he answered the telephone.

'Hello, Sergeant,' Ironside said. 'What kept you?'

There was a thoughtful pause before Ed answered.

'Oh, you know, it's always busy in your office.'

The man sounded tired, so Ironside wondered if he'd been taking a rest and had been woken from a deep sleep. He frowned at the thought, Ed needed as much rest as he could get, and waiting around at the department would be dull, even with the filing that was always left to do. Was it a surprise that he'd taken so long?

'I'm glad to see you are still at my office,' the Chief said, wishing he hadn't mentioned the delay. 'Look, Ed, we're still here at the hospital. It's all taking a lot longer than I thought.'

'Hmm.'

'We will be back before soon. Mark's finally persuaded a doctor to talk to us.'

'Good.'

'When we get there we'll bring you up to speed with what's happened.'

'Okay, Chief.'

Ironside waited for his sergeant to say something else, but after a moment just said: 'See you, Ed.'

There was a click from the other end. Ironside paused just before hanging up the phone, feeling uneasy, but he was at a loss to say why. That conversation was slightly closer to perfunctory than he'd expected. Ed hadn't even asked any questions. It was odd. But at least he was still there. And perhaps he had just woken up and was feeling disoriented.

Out of the corner of his eye Ironside saw a doctor walking up the hallway. From his stern face and the brisk step of his walk, the Chief guessed that this was the gentlemen that Mark had persuaded to come and give them an update.

At last! he thought. With an effort, Ironside pushed thoughts of his sergeant away, raising his hand in greeting to the doctor.

The man introduced himself as Dr Moran, and they joined Fran, Mark and Tim in the tiny waiting room.

Dr Moran gave Tim a very dubious look, then turned the same look to the Chief, wanting an explanation.

'He's here at my discretion, Doctor.'

The man shook his head, annoyance the most obvious emotion.

'I'm not happy about this, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'I'm not happy about it at all. I feel pressured into this.'

Mark shifted at the corner of Ironside vision. Maybe he had been a little overenthusiastic, but they still needed the answers.

'This is a criminal investigation,' Ironside began to say. The doctor waved his hand impatiently.

'I understand that,' he said. 'And I know what you've done to help Miss Marshall, but she's in no condition to talk to anyone. We can't get hold of her parents, or any next of kin.' The doctor folded his arms across his chest, a frown on his face. 'I feel this is unethical.'

Ironside looked carefully at the man, seeing sincerity not deliberate obstruction. This was one of those awkward time where the two needs, personal and public, pulled in opposite directions. They were at an impasse.

'And I'm especially unhappy with others being present. I'm sorry, Chief Ironside. I understand, and I understand your need to ask questions, to do your job, but I must do mine.'

For a few moments, Ironside thoughtfully stared to the side. Then he looked at the other three people in the room.

'Would you please excuse us for a few moments. Fran, Mark? Tim?'

The three of them agreed and left the room, Tim grumbling under his breath. After the door closed, Ironside looked back to the doctor.

'We're not talking about all of the police,' said Ironside shaking his head. 'Just me.'

'It's still unethical, you know. And I would easily lose my job.' The man was still highly agitated, but Ironside noted than he had not said a definite "no". There was maybe still a way.

Dr Moran stood abruptly, walking round the room, taking short, nervous steps. Ironside watched him, both anxious and slightly envious. Getting up and just taking a walk around to help clear the head. He'd never even thought about it until he couldn't do it anymore. Just as abruptly, Moran sat once more, and gave a sigh.

'Very well, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'Where would you like to start?'

'How is she?'

The doctor arched his eyebrows.

'She's a mess.' He drew a quick, uncomfortable-sounding breath. 'That's an understatement.'

'Can you be more specific?' he asked gently. 'The answers are important, Doctor.'

'I know, I know. I know what happened at the Kingston Building this afternoon, they told us she tripped out.'

The man stopped again, and in spite of the sense of urgency, Ironside waited patiently.

'If you spoke to her, who knows what sort of answers she might give. They might be the truth, or incriminating, or even complete garbage.'

'But they might give me something I don't have already. That's why I need this,' Ironside said. The man was right, of course he was right but still, they needed some sort of insight into what was going on. Katie might have information that no one else could give them. 'So we still need to talk to her.'

'This young lady has experienced something very traumatic,' he said. 'She's exhausted, irrational, confused, paranoid. And frightened. I've never seen anyone so frightened.'

Ironside searched the man's face, feeling increasingly anxious. There was more, that was why it had all taken so long, there was something more.

'What else is there, doctor? What else is wrong?'

Moran looked up, his face drawn and lined.

'We don't know what she's taken,' he admitted. 'Physically, it looked like she's done a line or two of something. The back of her nose and throat are a mess. You get it sometimes if the junk has been cut with something acidic. Damages the lining, making it bleed when you breathe it in.'

'Someone said she took cannabis,' Ironside said, unable to hide the disapproval from his voice. The doctor nodded slowly, but still had a frown on his face.

'No, she's taken something else,' he said. 'As well.'

Ironside looked up sharply at the other man.

'What do you mean?'

'We get a lot of young people who're tripping out coming through here,' the doctor said sadly. 'You get to tell the difference.'

Ironside thought back to the conversation with Todd Chadwick. The boy was arrogant and self-opinionated, but he hadn't sensed a lie when he'd said what he given Katie. Tim also had given him a similar story.

'So?'

'I don't recognise these symptoms. No one around here has seen anything quite like it. Maybe she took a mixture of things, or it is a new cut of something. I don't know. She keeps saying she's scared, people are coming to get her and are following her, a persecution complex. And it's getting worse. It shouldn't be getting worse.'

'How so?'

'These drugs, we know how they cycle through the body, the Lord knows we get enough examples coming through the emergency rooms to know. You come down from drugs. That's what causes the addiction, the trips don't last and you have to come back for more. But she's not coming down. She might even still be on her way up. Or she might not even be going up. This might be the way she is now.'

Ironside frowned, confused, but the doctor kept talking.

'That's why this is taking so long. This girl is a mess.' The doctor was shaking his head rapidly, clearly upset. 'I'm sorry, Chief Ironside. It's just, these kids that come through here, they don't understand they're playing Russian roulette every time they take something. Drugs interact. That's what they do. They interact with our bodies, they interact with each other. My professional intuition is that something she's taken or something she's been exposed to is causing a cascade of interactions that her body and brain just can't cope with.'

'And?'

'If she took that new "something" with the junk, if it's really new, or untested, it could do anything to her. Who knows how it interacts, with the body or anything else. It could cause a crisis, a psychosis, it could cause her reality to collapse completely, in the end. And if we don't know what it is, we can't start to get it out of her. There are tests, but it all takes time. And I don't think we have time. Her mind, her memory, she struggles to remember recent events, but has a recall of the past that is almost unnatural.'

The doctor sagged at the shoulders. Police work could be hard, seeing the social struggle to survive and the casualties it caused. But the doctors had it no easier. Moran was still sitting on the edge of the chair. He looked to the ground, rubbing the edge of his white coat between finger and thumb. When he next spoke, it was in a quiet, restrained tone.

'I know who you are, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'And your reputation is the only reason I'm even countenancing this course of action. And I trust your word.'

Ironside waited.

'I will speak to one of my colleagues,' Moran continued. 'You might be able to see her for a few minutes. Only you. And only briefly. And by God, you must promise me to respect her privacy and her mental state.'

The Chief gave a solemn nod.

'I will, doctor. And thank you.'

'Right. I'll return in a moment.'

The girl was in much more of a desperate condition than he'd thought. Ed might have rescued her from the basement of the Kingston Building, but maybe she was already beyond the help of anyone else. And they had no idea what caused this.

Moran stood to go, and Ironside asked suddenly:

'What can you do for her?'

The doctor gave a despairing shrug.

'We've taken blood samples, and it will take time, as I said. Right now, I'm not sure if there's anything we can do to help. And there might be no way back.'

Ed Brown walked briskly out of the police department, taking long rolling strides, his hands clenched in his jacket pockets, his head tipped forward as if deep in thought, so no one would talk to him. The department had been loud and full of people as he'd left, but everyone was taken up with their own business. The few officers who had acknowledged him, he'd waved at then ignored. That worked out fine.

Outside, he turned left, not heading anywhere in particular, wanting to get away from the department as cleanly as he could.

His three choices had now narrowed down to two. He wasn't staying in that repressive little office prison for a moment longer than he had to. Not after that damn phone call.

So he could go home or he could work.

When it came down to the choice, he didn't want to go home. It felt too obvious. Bob was bound to think of looking for him there and he had no desire for any contact with anyone tonight, least of all a boss who would likely bawl him out for not doing his job properly or endangering cases with his work obsession. Besides, although he was exhausted, all that coffee had made him jittery, he could feel himself trembling every time he stopped moving. There was a prickling, scratchy feeling under his skin, and he would never be able to get any rest.

So not going home.

That left just the one choice. Work.

But he couldn't stay here and work. Where would he go? Where in the city could he do any work?

The Internal Affairs file weighed on his mind. He couldn't just do whatever he liked. He was now off-duty, but he wasn't going to go looking for trouble or pushing his nose into any other division's cases. So that just left work for the Chief.

The only case the Chief was taking an interest in was the explosion at the Kingston Building. That was the very last case Ed wanted to think about tonight.

However.

There was a however. It would kill two birds with one stone. He could work on his own time, on one of Ironside's cases, while not getting in the way and he might be able to fill some of those infuriating gaps in his memory.

If he went back to the Kingston Building.

Ed frowned at his own logic. He didn't want to go back there. There were few places he wanted to go to less than that place. But of his current options, it was the best of a bad lot.

He crossed the street, glancing along the road, noticing how many people were out in the evening. It was busy, he was surprised it was so busy. After spending a day locked up in Bob's office, being out around so many people made him nervous again. It was hard to define why he felt like that. He didn't like being so exposed out here. Anything could happen. But if he was going to do any work, he should just get on with it.

With a brisk shake of his head, Ed took the next side street left, heading for the Kingston Building.

A/N - And here is where I'm taking a little break for a few weeks.

I am in the process of editing all the other Ironside fics here, I've done some of the short ones, and I've just updated Deadly Game - just to sort some typos and fix some errors. I've also changed a few little bits just to fit in a bit better with Aftermath, as I never thought I'd write a sequel.

Dog Eat Dog World and the rest should be done in very soon too.

Also, there should be a little fic treat for everyone to enjoy going up here in a few days.

Once again, thanks to everyone who has been in touch, with reviews, PMs and emails. I've very grateful for your friendship and support. I owe a couple of replies, and I'll get to that very soon.

I hope you all have a great holiday season. Keep safe and let's hope 2021 is a better year.

Sealgirl -x-