Rob Weston trudged through the rain sodden streets of Sun Hill searching. He knew exactly what he was looking for but wasn't sure where to find it, the many roads he had walked up and down all seemed to converge into one that led him nowhere. Looking up he saw a faint glimmer of light in the night sky bouncing off a pub sign depicting two arms clasping each other in a show of camaraderie with the words 'The Elcott Arms' imprinted in bold black print over the top. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked for the entrance. A set of double doors were located around the side of the building, Rob rushed forward as soon as he saw them, anything to get out of the rain as quick as possible. For a minute he briefly caught his reflection in the mirrored panels and stared into his own eyes, something which he hadn't done since he first arrived in London.

The last couple of days flew through his mind, Carl Trent's overdose, Jerry Trent's complaints and his dressing down from Inspector Gold. Afterwards, in his search for Tony Stamp, he had tried to apologise to Jerry but the old man barely uttered a reply, his son remained missing even now. Tony rarely spoke to him for the rest of the day, which thankfully, passed without incident. Rob pushed the double doors open and felt like 'The Man with No Name' walking into a hostile saloon in a deserted western town like in some cowboy movie from the Fifties. Groups of his colleagues were scattered around the pub each looking at him in different ways and many of them with a whole drawer full of knives. A few of the relief came over to him, discreetly whispered their approval and promised him as many pints as he could sink for the rest of the evening. One such officer was Sergeant Boyden who had spoken with him at the end of the shift. Rob had refused the earlier pub trip but though that from now on he had better tow the line especially where the senior officers were concerned. The Inspector and the Superintendent were even propping up the other side of the bar. As he walked over he felt two large dogs brush past his legs, chasing each other all over the floor, without a care in the world.

"You're late!" said Matt when Rob appeared at the bar beside him.

"Couldn't find the place, there must be about a hundred pubs in this area," he complained.

"A good copper knows his patch inside and out. You'll have a fair few shouts in here. Mine's a pint by the way," he smirked. Rob sighed, faked a smile and tried to attract the attention of the barmaid.

"Hang on, hang on," Matt grabbed him by the arm. He dug his hand into his pocket, pulled out a £10 note and pressed it into Rob's hand.

"Get one for yourself and for misery-guts over there," Matt indicated towards Tony who was sitting by himself on the table nearest to the serving hatch. "Now, no matter what anyone else says Sun Hill is a much better place without Carl Trent and his cronies pissing all over the streets. At least you'll have the relief talking to you again now don't give them an excuse not to now I understand this is beyond your control, you haven't had the best start here, but there's no reason to make it any worse. We don't tolerate lone wolves here so anybody that doesn't fit it is out, I run a tight ship."

"I doubt I'll have time to fit in. the DPS will be back soon to investigate Jerry Trent's complaint," Rob added soberly starring across the bar trying to attract the barmaid attention.

"You might have a bit longer than that," Matt replied. " Before I left a mate of mine from Hammersmith called me up and told me that Carl had been chucked out of a pub down there earlier today for starting a fight. CAD room put in a call to Jerry and, with any luck, he'll be on the next train over."

"He'll be back at some point," he added soberly in-between ordering the drinks

"Carl's still alive and there's no definitive proof of what you even said to him. Trust me, the whole matter will be forgot about within a week. Cheer up, remember what I've said and have a good night," he smiled and moved quietly over to a table where a single, attractive blonde woman was waiting for him.

Thoughts of Cass Rickman hadn't bothered him for a day or so. It was strange when someone you know so little about can occupy so much space in your head. The barmaid, a teenager with cropped dyed blonde hair and a tight white top with the pub's logo on it, had to crush his hand with an empty pint glass to snap him out of his thoughts.

"Oi, wake up!" she said sharply.

" I bet Peggy doesn't do that in the Queen Vic!" Rob replied.

"What are you gonna do, call the cops," she replied sarcastically in a broad Essex accent.

"I could do."

"Which ones? The suits by the slot machine or the drunks starring at their hands in the corner," she smiled.

As the money and drinks exchanged hands Rob noticed a familiar figure walk up to him, Mickey, the DC from yesterday.

"Hi again," he nodded.

"Alright, you get what you wanted at the hospital?" Mickey asked.

"I thought I did," he replied soberly.

"Goes like that sometimes. I'm glad Trent's cleared off to tell you the truth," Mickey added. " The raid on that café turned up nothing, we couldn't even find the chef, whole place was cleaner than the Pope's bathroom. We're still watching the place though, for however long the guvnor allows anyway," he sipped his drink.

"I tell you what, if you need any uniform to help out give us a shout," Rob offered.

"After the overtime already are you?" Mickey laughed. "Big prices here in the big city."

"I just want to help catch whoever was responsible, first case and everything."

"You've done enough already, mate, but thanks for the offer though I'll keep it in mind when we need to nip out for a curry," he continued with a grin.

"Mickey! Are you going to play this game or what?" a tall, blonde haired man said standing in the corner with a snooker cue in his hand.

"Nice to see you again," Mickey said to Rob before moving away towards his friend. "You might as well just give me your money now, save me the trouble!" he shouted back.

Rob said goodbye and moved over to Tony's table clutching the pints, one of which started dribbling down his hand and onto the carpet. The dogs quickly raced over to lap it up.

"Evening," he said.

"Evening," Tony replied. "That for me?"

"Yeah."

"I don't want it. I've already got one," he added indignantly.

"Sergeant Boyden's money," Rob said giving a brief smile, putting the drink on the table, and sliding it over towards Tony.

"Blimey, I'll have it stuffed and mounted," he said taking a sip as if to check it was real.

"Mind if I sit down?" Rob asked gingerly sliding a stool over from the bar.

"If you like," Tony replied frostily. The two sat sipping their drinks for a minute or so as if they intended them to last all night.

"How did your interview go?" Rob asked sheepishly.

"I've had worse but don't worry I didn't drop you in it!" he replied haughtily. "I said I would keep a closer eye on you next time."

Rob looked up. "Next time?" he asked.

"Looks like we've been shackled together for the time being."

"And you'd rather we weren't?"

"Again, I've had worse," he compromised.

Rob looked up and smiled briefly.

"I never did show you a picture of Cass, I found one the other night while sorting out some old stuff, if you still want to see," Tony asked.

"Sure."

Tony reached into his pocket and carefully took out a well-preserved photograph of three women in evening dress: two brunettes and a blonde. Rob looked at it for a minute or so.

"I know her," he said pointing to the blonde. " She's over there," he indicated towards a table over to the left. "Penny?"

Tony chuckled. "Nope, Polly, Polly Page. This was taken about three years ago at Dave Quinnan's wedding, he was a PC here, joined SO10 last year. This is Cass here," he pointed to a smiling curly haired woman in a black dress who was standing over at the far left of the picture holding a glass of red wine.

"She's beautiful, was beautiful," Rob replied quietly.

"Chatty too, could talk the hind legs off a donkey and had an accent you could slice through," Tony added wistfully.

"Who's the woman in the middle?"

"That's Vicky Hagen, another PC, she transferred out your way nearly 18 months ago."

"Passage of time twists us all down a few alleys doesn't it," he pointed to the picture, "died, transferred and…didn't she try and kill herself"

"The marriage didn't last long either, Dave's I mean."

"Well every nick has a few stories," Rob added, trying to lighten the mood.

"In our case it more like the 'Tales from the Cryptkeeper'," Tony deadpanned back. He picked the photo back up and put it back into his inside pocket. "Still want to stay here?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Everyone has a choice."

"I'm no Cass," Rob locked eyes with Tony.

"I don't know, a bit of lipstick and shave your legs," the two laughed together. Rob felt guilty about it but it was nothing compared to what was going on behind Tony's eyes. Thoughts of the past, memories of Cass, Dave and several other Sun Hill officers, his indecision over the Carl Trent case plus a reluctant re-acceptance of his new colleague. Rob could tell he was on thin ice with the only friend he had managed to make so far.

"Evening gents!" a smiling Reg Hollis joined them at the table.

"Rob, have you met Reg? A legend in his own lunchtime," Tony said cheekily.

"Yeah, we met before, evening mate," Rob replied. A thought could clearly be seen entering Tony's head and his eyes moved upwards briefly.

"Perhaps you can show Rob your party piece, Reginald," he said.

"What's this?" asked Rob.

"That man sitting opposite you is an encyclopaedia of knowledge, most of it totally useless I grant you, but within those buzzing hives of grey matter there lies an elephantine memory containing a directory of every Officer that is currently serving, or has served, in the Metropolitan Police since…well, bloody ages ago," explained Tony like he was narrating a documentary.

"Oh…yes," Reg cottoned on. "Well pre-1960 I get a bit hazy but other than that I'm pretty proficient, yes. Why? You got mates down here?"

"Let's start with an example, say, er, Armstrong," Tony interrupted as Rob sat up with interest.

"Okay, Armstrong," Reg's mind could be seen physically calculating his response. "Five officers, 3 PC's, one DS and…um," he closed his eyes.

"A DI on the moon," Rob joked.

"No Uxbridge actually, he was made up to DCI last year I believe," Reg said straight-faced.

"Give us one of the PC's," asked Tony, arms folded, enjoying the scene.

"PC Jane Armstrong, graduated 1995 and currently serving in Lambeth and, funnily enough, she went to Hendon with DS Tom Armstrong who's with MIT presently."

"See what I told you, amazing. The eighth wonder of the world is our Reg," beamed Tony.

"You should be on TV, the amazing Reg, the memory man," Rob agreed.

Reg smiled looking a little embarrassed. "Well I did try to get on 'You Bet' once but they already had some bloke on the week before, see, who claimed he could remember every name in the phone book. He did it, too, it was very impressive."

"What about Weston?" Tony asked bluntly. Rob looked a little startled.

"Not sure, I think there might be a Toby Weston in Ruislip, I know there was one who went up north. He's the only one I know of," Reg replied.

"Oh…right," Rob looked indifferent at hearing the answer.

" She must be using her maiden name then," Tony said to Rob.

"What's this all about anyway?" inquired Reg.

"Looking for Rob's estranged wife, transferred down here about a year or so ago," Tony replied. "What was her name?"

"Don't remember," he stalled.

"You must do! Not a thing you're likely to forget is it," Tony sounded like he really wanted to help.

"The thing is…I…I'm not sure I want to know yet…not sure I'm ready," rob replied sounding worried.

"I thought that's what you came down here for," Tony asked haughtily.

"Perhaps I'd better just settle in a bit more first and then worry about finding her," he added quietly. Faced with the reality of actually finding Amanda he didn't feel he was ready to face her again just yet.

"Suit yourself," Tony finished his drink and got up. "Time for another I think," he rubbed his hands together. "Reg, now PC Weston here, earlier today, expressed an interest in model trains. His granddad had quite a collection apparently," he said patting Rob on the shoulders.

"What?" Rob looked puzzled.

"Really? We must have a chat," Reg sat up.

"You two chat, there's a bit of a queue so I may be some time," Tony smiled and walked off.

Reg's words and descriptions of various locomotives blended into background noise as Rob looked around the pub. He knew nothing about trains but allowed Tony a little victory, he stayed at the bar talking to Gary Best for another half an hour, shooting Rob a grin whenever their eyes met. If this were his price to pay for his new friend's respect then he would gladly take the lumps. It was the first time he felt settled at his new home, despite the various issues and proceedings hanging over his head, this fresh start might just be the best thing for him after all.

The End