Rating: no violence etc.

Summary: There are high stakes as the team work towards catching a violent serial rapist

Copyright: All the characters except Brian Finchly belong to the Bill

John Boulton slammed down the phone. He was in a bad mood and the office was doing its best to stay out of his way. Kerry, unhappily ignorant of the sergeant's mood, chose that moment to walk through the door with Claire Stanton in toe.

"Kerry," John shot at her from across the room, "Why didn't you go and interview that victim at St. Hue's last night. The hospital's just called, she died this morning and now we're back were we started."

Kerry, slightly taken aback by the verbal attack, turned her face away to regain some composure. It was so difficult to work with John. He had almost seemed pleasant a couple of weeks back, then something had gone wrong and now it seemed she couldn't do anything right.

"I'm sorry serge, the hospital told me she wasn't up to questioning, so I thought it would be best to leave it."

"John, it's hardly her fault." Claire knew all too well what was bothering John but that didn't make working with him any easier. "If the doctors said she couldn't be questioned, Kerry could hardly disregard that." She sighed; it would be so much easier if John didn't insist on taking his feelings out on every DC in the vicinity. "Some of us draw a distinction between victims and suspects."

"And some of us just want to get to the truth." John muttered the words bitterly. Kerry looked up. It appeared she was off the hook, thanks again to Claire. She had never fully understood what went on between the two sergeants, but Claire was one of the few people who would and could control John. She didn't notice the moisture that had gathered in the other woman's eyes.

John's words held a meaning only too clear for Claire. It had been just two weeks since she had finally confessed to him that she was CIB and she had spent every moment since regretting it. When she looked at him, her mind was irresistibly drawn back into the happier times. The nights they had shared together, the times when he had held her close and she couldn't be in the same room without remembering the touch of his skin against hers. Then she would see the look in his eyes when she had told him the truth: revulsion. He had pushed her away and there was no going back. She might as well concentrate on catching Don Beech, after all, he was the reason she was here in the first place.

Claire walked over to Beech's desk, her ever vigilant eyes swallowing up the names and numbers of the files carelessly scattered over its surface. It was lucky she hadn't told John who she was after – not that she'd had a chance.

"So, Don, any news on the serial rapist? Other than the death of the latest victim, Sergeant Boulton's kindly informed me of that development already."

Don smiled. He liked Claire, she was smart and good to look at. Everything he enjoyed in a woman, and he wasn't too fussed about the smart.

"Sure, the lab's finished forensics, we managed to get the latest case in as urgent. Big surprise, there were no traces, again." He offered her his lop sided sarcastic smile and Claire couldn't help noting the irony of the whole situation. "It looks like it's gonna have to be an obbo after all, one of you girls up for being a tom?" Kerry and Claire turned away with predictable maturity.

"Well, if you're serious about an obbo Don, we'll have to inform the DI today. I take it we all want to get this sicko off the streets before he does any more damage." John, like Claire, had been concentrating on his work with a renewed vigour since her revelation. At first he didn't believe it. When he had run out of the flat that night he had only been angry. Angry that the woman who he was increasingly sure he was falling in love with had to be in CIB and hurt that she had lied to him. Now, the questions had started to form: why were CIB interested in Sun Hill in the first place? Who were they after?

Carefully, John raised his eyes to look at Claire from across the room, but just at that moment, she did exactly the same and the pair were caught in a guilty trap, neither willing to break the contact.

"Well Johnny boy, if someone's gotta ask old Deakin for more resources, I'd rather you than me." Don interrupted the silent battle. "You should probably go too Claire, I mean, the DI actually likes you."

Claire rolled her eyes, far too used to the secondary meanings in Don's words to feel intimidated.

"You mean I actually work Donald?" she asked in mock astonishment. Don scowled as Claire left her desk, unperturbed, to broach the DI. Slowly John also slid from his chair to accompany her.

As it turned out, Deakin was out so the pair headed down the corridor to Meadow's office. There was a tense silence, neither sure exactly what to say and both convinced the situation could not continue as it was.

"Look, John, I know you're angry, but you can't keep taking it out on everyone else in the office, it's not fair." They were standing outside Meadow's door, but neither was ready to knock.

"How can you pretend to know how I feel, I've just found out that I've been dating a woman for the last six months who's been spying on me and my friends! How am I supposed to feel?"

"It's not that simple!" Claire was close to tears and she could feel the ticklish sensation at the corners of her eyes, but she resolutely tilted her head upwards, determined not to show any weakness. "I told you didn't I?"

"Yeah, six months too late," Even John choked over these last cruel words, and just as both sergeants were on the verge of break down, the door opened and Meadows glanced from one to the other inquiringly.

"John? Claire?"

"Yes Sir," as ever Claire was quick to regain control of the situation. "We'd like to organise an obbo sir, as soon as possible on Brian Finchly, our suspect in the serial rape case."

The DCI glanced over the files John handed him. "You do realise there's no medical evidence and this could just be a wild goose chase, but I certainly see your point in the similarities and timing." Meadows gave a quick thought to the look on Brownlow's face when he discovered how much money was being poured into one, potentially disastrous obbo, before smiling at his officers, "The sooner we get filth like Finchly off the streets, the better."