hope you enjoy this one! I love writing for Denton, so am glad season three gives me another chance. please do let me know what you think, you comments make me so incredibly happy!

"Is Sam going to be there?" Liz asks, curious and also a little wary.

"Yeah, I just hoped you would be too," Steve's voice says down the phone.

Liz, not needing to ask for his reasons when she hears the pleading tone to his voice, admits, "I was thinking of going anyway, after everything."

Lindsay Denton's retrial.

Steve had recently applied for the court to make an exemption so that he would not have to testify. He and the lawyer assigned by Gill argued the disclosure of covert tactics may undermine current and future operations. Unfortunately, the Judge declared that it is based on this evidence that the defendant had a successful appeal to be retried for her original convictions. The application was denied.

Today, Steve has to face Lindsay again and testify. Liz has no doubt Steve is nervous. No case or suspect had affected the team in the way Denton had.

"I have an appointment but I will be there straight after," Liz affirms, "I might not get to see you beforehand so… good luck."

"Thanks, Lizzie," he says before hanging up.

A few hours later, Liz is sitting beside Sam in the pews. In front of her sits Gill, with Ted beside the woman.

She had tried to appear confident when she arrived with Ted and met the others in the foyer. Liz attempted to ignore the apprehensive twisting of her gut as they were called into their seats. Sam quite clearly doing her best to avoid any attempt Liz made at conversation did not make matters better.

Liz had looked down as she entered the courtroom, unfortunately anxious to meet eyes with that woman again. She could sense where Denton was sitting, behind a stall on the other side of the room. She wondered, on her way over, what Lindsay would think to see her there today. When Liz learned she had been granted a retrial, Liz knew she had something up her sleeve. If not to get herself free but to get revenge on them for locking her away. She dreaded to think what.

Steve walks up to the bar. Her stomach jolts again. She can feel Sam shift in her seat beside her, nervous too. Yet, Sam did not know Denton. Of course, Steve must have talked about her. But, unlike Liz and her friends, she had not come under fire to know how much of a threat this woman posed. Denton was a difficult woman to explain and an even more difficult woman to understand.

"Please state your name for the court," the Judge demands.

Liz watches as Steve swallows, folding his hands together, "Detective Sergeant Steven Arnott."

Ebele Falana, a lawyer Liz had met a few times in the past, who would be representing the prosecution, stands, "Detective Sergeant Arnott, could you please tell the court how you came to be involved in the investigation surrounding the defendant?"

Steve takes in a deep breath, eyes flicking to Denton before snapping back to the attorney and jury, "I was and still am a serving detective in AC-12. On September 5th 2013, there was an attempt on the life of a protected witness; John Thomas Hunter. A police convoy was ambushed causing the deaths of three police officers. AC-12 was assigned to investigate the possibility of police complicity in the conspiracy to assassinate Hunter. And our inquiry focussed on the officer who led the convoy and was the sole survivor."

"And this officer was the defendant?"

"Yes, former Detective Inspector Lindsay Denton."

Liz looks over to Denton for the first time, then. The woman, looking almost shabby and weary in her suit, is glaring at Steve. To anyone else, certainly the jury, this look would seem inconsequential. No doubt, Lindsay does not want to risk alienating them by appearing threatening. But they know her better. They have seen that look before. Liz lets out a small, shaky breath.

They had thought this was over, Liz laments as she hears Steve re-explain the case as he had done to her so long ago. Lindsay had been behind bars for over a year, now. They were moving on.

But, of course, Denton could not allow that.

"Detective Sergeant Arnott, did you give evidence at the defendant's original trial?" the defense attorney asks.

"Yes, I did."

"Was there any significant evidence discovered at the defendant's home?"

"A hidden sum of cash was found."

"Found where exactly?"

"In some items belonging to the defendant's late mother."

"Specifically, the overnight case," the defense directs to the jury before turning back to Steve, "how did that make its way to the defendant's bedroom?"

"I carried it up for her."

"Why?"

"I was carrying out an undercover operation to investigate the defendant."

The defense counsel smirks, "And who authorised this undercover operation?"

"My commanding officer, Superintendent Hastings," Steve says with a gesture of his head to where Ted sat in the front row.

Ted nods back, assuringly.

"When?"

"The operation was authorised retroactively," Steve explains.

"After you carried the case belonging to the defendant's late mother up to the bedroom, what did you do?"

"I offered my sympathies, then turned the conversation to the conspiracy to murder Tommy Hunter," Steve says, visibly starting to become irritated by the line of questioning. Liz wonders where this is going.

"Did you ever spend a night at the defendant's house?"

"No, I did not," Steve bites.

"Part of a night?"

He sighs, "Yes."

Liz feels Sam shift again beside her. Her stomach jolts. Oh.

"Until what time?" The defense unrelents.

"Three, four in the morning."

"If you are unsure of the exact time, Detective Sergeant, you may refer to your pocketbook."

Steve stands there, awkwardly silent.

"You did record in your pocketbook every time you stayed with the defendant," the defense patronises, "Didn't you?"

Liz sees Hastings' shoulders sag slightly in front of her.

"No, I was undercover," Steve argues, "If she sneaked a look at it, she would have found out what I was up to."

"What were you doing with the defendant until three or four in the morning?" the defense counsel says, suggestively.

Liz shakes her head slightly, dropping her gaze to her entwined fingers in her lap.

"Talking. My operation was designed to win the defendant's trust," Steve defends.

"You were endeavouring to create a close, personal relationship with the defendant?" the lawyer twists.

"No," Steve denies, eyes glancing over to where Liz sits as if directing it to her - and Sam, of course. Neither woman is looking back at him; Sam is looking to her feet and Liz is watching Denton, "Only to create the appearance of a close relationship. I was working."

"Are there any specific operational rules associated with an undercover operation with respect to the closeness of such a relationship?"

Steve scratches his head, "Yes."

"Would a sexual relationship be acceptable during an undercover operation?"

Liz feels her cheeks heat, embarrassed for Steve. And also, perhaps, a little infuriated with him.

"Under current guidelines, no," Steve almost shouts.

"Was that the reason you didn't seek authorisation for your undercover operation-"

"My lady," Ebele interjects to the Judge, "we've already established that the operation was authorised retrospectively."

"Move on, Miss Hepburn," the Judge demands of the defense.

The defense counsel nods, looking down to her notes before turning back to Steve, "How many times were you alone with the defendant in her home?"

"About a dozen."

"At this time, was the case against the defendant going well?"

"It was work in progress," Steve drawls.

Liz resists the sudden, impulsive urge to let out an incredulous laugh as she recalls the difficulty of the case.

"But you needed a key piece of evidence to crack the case."

"My job is to find any and all evidence," Steve contends.

The defense pauses, gesturing to the small crowd behind her, "Would you please remind the court… Who found the cash?"

"A forensic search team."

"Led by whom?"

Steve hesitates, "Me."

Gill rubs the back of her neck as Hastings shakes his head. Sam sucks in a quick, deep breath beside Liz.

Liz has her eyes on Denton. The woman stares, blankly. But Liz knows she is pleased. There is a familiar, disturbingly satisfied glint in her eye as she watches Steve squirm. She has planned this.

Not only was the retrial bringing up past frustrations with the case, but Denton was making it personal again. She knows there was tension about Steve going undercover. She knows planting evidence is hot gossip. She knows sexual misconduct by male police officers swelters in the press. And Liz knows Denton is clever enough to use that against them.

But she also knows what Steve is like - or used to be. Liz herself has berated him for his… endeavours with women… more times than she wishes to remember. He has Sam now, and they are happy. But a year ago, at the time of this case, had he not indulged in inappropriate relations with not only another colleague but a witness? Liz knows Steve. And it hurts her heart to admit that means she knows there is a possibility these suggested accusations are true.

Steve is waiting for them in the foyer when they leave the courtroom. He is stressed, Liz can see that in the way his hands are rubbing against his thighs and the way he has loosened his tie a little. His eye widen as he sees them approach, taking a hurried step closer to meet with them.

"I never-"

He deflates as Sam storms past him, out of the building. Steve watches her go for a moment before turning back to Lizzie who remains standing, also watching the woman quite rightfully need a moment to herself.

"Lizzie, I never-"

"Steve," Liz cuts off his desperate pleading, her stomach twisting more ruthlessly at his strained expression, "I am not the one you need to explain yourself to."

Steve sighs, frustrated, as she avoids his eye, continuing to look in the direction his girlfriend disappeared in.

She was annoyed with him, he can see that. He can hear it in her restrained voice. Lizzie was never so closed off. But her words send a flicker of hope through his heart that she was trying to understand. She knew what Denton was like. And she knew what he was like, too. Surely Lizzie could see what was happening here-

Steve stops himself before his mouth opens again. Despite every fibre of his being telling him to stay and ask for her understanding, he knows Lizzie is right. Sam deserves an explanation.

He huffs, fixing Lizzie one last desperate glance before jogging in the direction Sam had left.

Liz watches him go, saddened. Her mind is blank, unsure what to think or how to feel. Of course she was thinking of his girlfriend, not wanting Steve's stubbornness to ruin what they had. But, admittedly, part of her just wanted him to leave her alone. To give her time to process it all. It was bad enough having to recollect the actual Denton case once again, let alone all this added suspicion of him-

She can't even think about it. She doesn't want to.

Liz hears Ted speaking to Gill somewhere behind her in the foyer. Moving over to join them once Steve is out of sight, Ted is shaking his head, "I can guarantee 110-percent that none of my people would plant evidence. They know I would throw the book at them, and then the whole bookshelf."

"I know you would, Ted," Gill sighs, pulling out her phone, "I need to make a few calls."

Ted curses under his breath as the woman walks away, "That lad will be the death of me."

She remains quiet, for once unsure hope to defend him like she usually would jump at the chance to. Ted notices, dreading that even Liz was unable to deny the chances of such a damning accusation.

"Beth?" Ted prompts, almost pleading her to give her own insight instead of standing there, timidly void of, well, anything.

Liz looks up at her godfather, settling on something to say despite the onslaught of thoughts running through her head, "I will be here again tomorrow to hear Denton's testimony."

Ted nods, perturbed by her impassivity.

She had ignored his calls last night. She needed time to think, to consider everything over and over.

Even now, as she sits watching Denton take her place at the stand, Liz struggles to determine any sort of feeling. On one hand, she believes Denton to be more than capable of playing another of her cruel games. Doing as she has done before, using something so personal to get back at them for convicting her. Then again, she believes it possible Steve had made that mistake. It would be naive and biased of her to deny the likeliness of the chance.

Liz knows Denton, she was her counsellor; and Liz knows Steve, she is his friend.

"I do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and confirm that the evidence I shall give will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth," Liz hears Denton say from the stand.

It feels strange, Liz thinks, hearing the woman's voice. She had hoped to never have to hear that bothersome performative tone again.

"Miss Denton, last year you were convicted in the court because ten out of twelve jurors were sure you'd conspired in the murder of a protected witness, John Thomas Hunter," the defense explains, "Would you tell this jury if you were guilty of this crime?"

"No," Denton declares, "I had nothing to do with the murder of Tommy Hunter."

Liz can hear Ted frustratedly mutter something in front of her.

"We have heard from Detective Sergeant Arnott that one important item of evidence against you was a sum of approximately £50,000 in cash found in your home. To the best of your knowledge, how was that evidence found?"

Denton nods, "I have full knowledge of how it was found as I was present at that time. Detective Constable Kate Fleming led me upstairs where a team of forensic scene investigators led by Detective Sergeant Arnott were in the process of searching my bedroom. Detective Sergeant Arnott remarked upon the fact I'd shown peculiar interest in my mum's personal belongings."

"Peculiar? In what way?"

"Detective Sergeant Arnott remarked that I had been anxious about mum's things not being returned to me after her death."

"Were you?"

"I was devastated… by her death," Denton's voice wobbles, expertly, "The thought of them being lost was heartbreaking. I kept them in that room and I didn't even touch them, I- I didn't even try to move them, I just-"

Liz sighs. Here we go again. So, very moving…

"As long as they were there," Denton sniffs, ridding herself of invisible tears, "somehow it felt to me that my mum was there."

"Are you okay to carry on, Miss Denton?" the defense counsel asks, the courtroom watching as Denton purses her lips in a silent sob.

Denton takes a pause for dramatic effect, "Yes. Detective Sergeant Arnott asked one of the forensic search team to open mum's overnight case."

"And what was found in the case?"

"A large number of bank notes."

"Had you ever seen these bank notes before?"

"Never."

"How did you react?"

"Astonished, devastated, confused," Denton lists.

"And how did Detective Sergeant Arnott react?"

"He didn't bat an eye."

"He didn't seem surprised? Or curious? Or triumphant?"

"No," Denton shakes her head.

Liz folds her arms, infuriated by the woman's nerve. This was who Lindsay Denton was. Manipulative, scheming and bloody good at being so. Liz would not for even a second entertain the idea that Steve would plant evidence.

"And how would you describe your relationship with Detective Sergeant Arnott until that point?"

Liz sits up a little straighter, her arms still folded defensively.

"I thought we'd become friends."

"You became close?" the defense counsel asks.

"Yeah."

"An undercover officer is forbidden from sexual relations with a perosn they are investigating-"

"My lady," Ebele once again interjects, "the investigating officer's relationship with the defendant has no bearing on the abundant and powerful evidence against her."

"My lady," the defense rebuts, "an undercover officer must abide by a code of conduct. Failure to follow that code of conduct implies there are other rules he might be prepared to break."

"I'll allow the question," the Judge determines, to Liz's dismay.

"While undercover and investigating you," the defense almost proudly asks, "did Steve Arnott engage in sexual relations with you?"

There is a pause. A tense hush falls over the room as the attendant awaits Denton's response.

Liz holds her breath.

It hitches as Lindsay turns to look at her. Directly in the eye. Singling her out in the crowd. Her gaze blank in that familiarly threatening way of hers.

Liz glares back, ignoring her shock and unwilling to relent in the suggested challenge.

"Yes," Lindsay Denton asserts.

"DS Arnott," Hastings calls as he walks past the man's desk, expecting him to follow.

All eyes are on the younger man as he walks behind the Superintendent to his office, the door slamming behind them.

"Remain standing," Hastings orders.

Steve panics for a moment. He had not been present at the trial today, after having been advised by GIll to remain as distant as he can while things were cleared up or he was called for again. Lizzie had not called him to tell him how it had gone. In fact, Lizzie had ignored all his calls over the last day and night. That concerned him.

"Did you have sexual relations with a suspect you were investigating whilst undercover?" Hastings asks, blunt.

Steve shakes his head, still offended by the insinuation and realising this means Denton had supported this claim during her testimony, "Lindsay Denton is going to say anything to con the jury."

"Did you or didn't you?" the older man growls.

"No, sir," Steve defends, "I did not."

"If that's your answer."

"It is my answer, sir," Steve bites back, infuriated at the lack of belief in him.

"She claims that when the money was found you didn't bat an eye, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Why would that be?"

Steve sighs, "The search team had established the find prior to Denton entering the premises. I ordered them to simulate making the find in front of her. To see her reaction."

Hastings rolls his eyes, "You make the find, you show her, there's your reaction. You were showboating!"

"Yes, sir," Steve snaps back.

"I'll give you 'yes, sir', the defense is using this to discredit your work and the work of this department," Hastings berates, beginning to pace to burn off some irritation, "Your team was bossing the game, you went and gave away a penalty!"

"Yes, sir," Steve repeats.

Hastings takes in a deep breath through his nose, voice darkening, "You are hurting the case. And you are hurting a lot of people here. Stop only thinking for yourself."

Steve frowns, perplexed at that. Hurting who? Him and Sam had talked, and they were fine-

A knock and the sound of the door opening interrupts the two men. Steve turns to look at whoever had just entered the room, heart pounding to see Lizzie.

She's avoiding his gaze, looking past him to Hastings, "I have some files for you."

Ted nods, reaching out for her to pass them, "Thank you, Beth."

Lizzie nods once the files are in his hand, turning on her heel and heading back out of the door without any acknowledgement of the younger man.

Steve deflates, his cockiness vanquished as he looks awkwardly to his shoes, listening to the door close cruelly behind her.

"Get out of here," Hastings mutters, waving a hand.

Steve hurries out of the door, eager to catch up to Liz before she has the chance to disappear on him again.

"Lizzie!" he calls out, seeing her approach her office.

Her heartbeat quickens, as does her step. He jogs to reach her before her office door can close.

"Lizzie," he says her name again, moving to stand in front of her and block her way through the door.

She still avoids his eye, though stops walking. He would only keep bothering her otherwise.

"You alright?" he asks, genuinely concerned by the way she had been avoiding him. He had been put through enough grief over it from Sam last night to recognise the woman was disappointed in him.

"I have work to do," Liz responds, unsure what else to say.

How can she explain to him that she believes him? Or that she doesn't believe him? Or that she doesn't know what the hell to believe? How can she explain to him she hopes he is alright and knows she is there for him as he goes through what Denton is, once again, putting them through? Or that she is furious at him for allowing Denton to be, once again, putting them through this? How can she explain the glare the woman sent her today affirmed to her this was all motivated by personal revenge? Or that, despite warning him against doing so, she is being a hypocrite and falling for it anyway? How can she explain she trusts him but is disappointed by what this means for the case, after all the team went through? Or that she is struggling to trust him and is disappointed by what this means for their friendship, after all the two of them went through?

She had warned him and he refused to listen. And here they were.

"Maybe we could get a coffee later, then?" he asks, hopeful.

She cringes, "I have a meeting."

"Oh," he says, dumbly, unable to think of a cover through the pains in his chest, "Ok."

She tries to send him a small smile, to let him know she just needs time alone to think things through. It comes out like a grimace.

Moving past him without another word, she shuts the door to her office behind her.

Steve sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. What have I done?

Liz almost runs home that evening, desperate for the comfort of her bed. She needed space; away from AC-12, away from the case, away from Steve Arnott.

Stepping through into her apartment, she almost trips over a small pile of mail on the doorstep. Picking it up and throwing it on the side counter, Liz discards her coat onto the sofa and collapses into the pillows.

"Saoirse!" she calls, eager for a cuddle with the cat. Her softly furred friend was always the best remedy for her ever-increasing headache.

Liz listens out for the tiny pitter-patter of paws on her wooden floor. When there is no such sounds, Liz calls out again. Usually, the animal would run and pince on her as soon as she stepped through the door. Perhaps she was sleeping.

Liz stands from the sofa, looking around her living room for the cat. Moving over to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Liz calls out once more.

Nothing.

Cats could be stubborn little things.

As the kettle boils, Liz picks up the pile of mail. She throws them down as she determines their sender. Bills, bills, bills-

Liz frowns at the last envelope remaining in her hand. It is a small white envelope with what feels to be something solid and small inside. Heer name, 'Elizabeth Thornton' is scrawled messily on the front, with no sign of a return address. In fact, her own address is not visible either. Whoever had sent it must have put it through her door themselves.

Curious, Liz turns over the envelope and begins to open it, tearing at the paper on one side. Once open, she peers inside.

Her stomach sinks at what she sees. She throws the envelope hastily to the ground. Tears immediately begin to fall. She gags.

A cat's paw.