A/N: I will get back to the Phil/Sam strand in a little while but this feels a bit more important. Due warning, I'm going away on Saturday. I'll try to update before I go but then nothing for a week sorry. Not just trying to be evil, honestly. Maybe I can still surprise you all, hmm?

Despite the sharp realisation that Inspector Gold knew everything Sheelagh wasn't willing to let go of Sam's hand as the trio sat in the living room. Luckily, Sam didn't seem to mind keeping her close.

'Right.' Gina sat forward in the chair. 'You didn't tell me everything.'

'I shouldn't have said anything,' Sam replied.

'Sam, it's fine,' Sheelagh said quietly. To Gina, she added, 'I didn't want to report it, for obvious reasons.'

'Him being what he is makes it worse,' Gina answered.

'I'm being selfish, I admit it. But, with respect, this affects me. No one else.' After saying that she felt Sam's grip tighten, maybe it wasn't entirely true considering she'd descended on her doorstep. It did affect her to a certain extent then.

Gina sighed. 'And he does it to someone else, what then?'

'Don't you think I know this?'

'Then you know you've got a duty to the public. And yourself, for that matter.'

Sheelagh swallowed with difficulty. 'If I did have the physical examination...'

'No obligation to follow through on the report, you know that,' Gina concluded for her.

'You don't have to do this,' Sam spoke up.

'She's right though.' Sheelagh looked at her friend. 'So were you. And Abi.'

'Abi?'

'I told you she was too like you.'

Sam nodded hesitantly. 'I'm not pressing you here.'

'I know. Thank you.'

The walls of these places were so sterile, littered with warning posters that had you worrying about diseases you'd never contemplated before you walked in the door. It was so different when you weren't there in an official capacity. Sam was just realising that.

Beside her on the hard bench Gina cracked a pack of mints. 'Want one?'

'Thanks.' As she crunched Sam felt the overwhelming urge to... well, apologise. 'I'm sorry about earlier.'

The Inspector shook her head. 'I understand a bit better now.'

'No. What I said about you not giving a damn about the relief, I was wrong. I'm sorry.'

'Honestly, it's fine.' Gina paused. 'How are you bearing up?'

'Me?'

'You care about Sheelagh, I know that much.'

Leaning against the wall, Sam shrugged. 'I'm just getting through it. I want to kill him though.'

'Join the queue.'

'I mean, why Sheelagh? You couldn't meet anyone more...'

'Isn't this supposed to be your area of expertise, profiling?'

'I'm too close.'

'So I've noticed.'

Sam glanced sideways. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing,' Gina said unconvincingly. 'I've just noticed you're quick to help these days.'

'You say that like there's something wrong with it.'

'Do I?'

The door beside them opening saved any further probing. As Sheelagh appeared Sam stood ready to accept the woman into her arms. Until they broke apart a minute later nothing was said.

'How'd it go?' Sam asked anxiously.

'Fine. Okay.' Sheelagh glanced to Gina. You didn't have to wait.'

'Yes, I did. Anyway, I'm your ride home.'

'My place,' Sam clarified as she supported Sheelagh down the corridor.

'Thanks.' Sheelagh gratefully took the glass offered to her. It had been another difficult day but stretched out with Samantha on her sofa she was feeling better about things. In fact, she was able to, not forget, but distance herself for a little while. 'Did you see Phil today?'

'No. I'm not keen to either.'

'Oh, why? Live up to his reputation did he?'

'Something like that.'

Why did Sheelagh get the feeling the truth was being economically told? 'It wasn't anything to do with me was it?'

Sam's head snapped towards her. 'What do you mean?'

'Just that Phil didn't seem too happy about me being there last night.'

'I hoped you hadn't picked up on that.'

Sheelagh smiled. 'I think the waiters picked up on it.'

'Oh, well. Doesn't matter, I suppose.'

'He's not the one then?' Sheelagh referred back to their washroom conversation.

'I think I knew that one already.' Sam reached down for the bottle to top up both their glasses. 'He was never what I wanted.'

'And what's that?'

'Well, someone I love, for starters.'

'Mmm, likewise.' Sheelagh clinked their glasses. 'Cheers.'

Checking on Abigail repeatedly through the dark hours was practically a nightly pursuit. She considered it understandable given her almost constant worries about her daughter but with the current sleeping arrangements Sam was finding the treks upstairs that little bit irritating.

Stopping outside her own door she listened for a moment. Hearing consistent breathing, she hesitantly entered, relieved to find Sheelagh sound asleep. Explaining the reasons behind why she'd felt she had to enter could be tricky.

In truth, she was fully aware of the reasons though she was having a little difficulty accepting them.

Everything had started when Sheelagh had turned up in bits the previous evening though she supposed the puzzle pieces had been falling into place long before that. The mix of emotions she'd felt at Sheelagh's tale were irrational- anger, guilt, sympathy, pure hatred, self hatred- though she hadn't recognised them at the time. A friend would be angry, maybe even feel guilt but to thoroughly despise herself for the feeling that she could've prevented it? No, that didn't seem normal.

Well, it wasn't was it? The rage fluttering around inside of her when she'd seen Gabriel at the front door was almost inhuman. It wasn't accepted behaviour.

Yet nothing had seemed out of the ordinary until her conversation with Gina at the refuge. It was as though she knew an open secret. It turned out she did.

Placing her own hand millimetres away from Sheelagh's on the pillow Sam felt the warmth of the woman infiltrating her. Despite that, she resisted the urge to touch knowing it wouldn't be right. How could any of it be right?

Here she was, a level-headed detective sergeant desperate to lean down a few inches and kiss one of her female colleagues. Scratch that; a female friend. Yet the reservations didn't seem to matter.

When she looked at Sheelagh she remembered cradling her the previous night. Smoothing down her hair, trying to stem the tears, whispering apologies deep into her ear. What did it matter if she was a woman? They were already closer than she'd allowed herself to be with any man in her entire life and they hadn't even made the effort? That had to mean something surely?