was very excited to write this chapter, and absolutely cannot wait to see your reactions! please do comment/review, I would love to hear your feedback on where this has gone, how it is going and where you think it is going or should go!
"Dot," she says, quietly, as they drive home together in his car.
The man in the driver's seat glances at her, taking in the sight of the young woman tucked into his passenger seat, looking concernedly up at him. It breaks his heart.
"Is everything alright?"
She watches as he looks back at the road, his chest enlarging as he takes in a breath.
Who was she kidding? Of course everything was not alright.
But the man had been particularly stressed since leaving Steve's interview. The way he had looked when he left the toilets earlier had, honestly, scared her, having never seen the man anything but composed.
His eyes were bloodshot, his tinged cheeks contrasting harshly with the now pale grey of his complexion. His jaw was clenched tight, his fists at his side shaking uncontrollably.
Something was bothering him. And it was more than just stress over the case and Steve's arrest. She still did not have an answer for why he had turned up on her doorstep the other night in such a frenzy, but she could only assume it was the same thing eating at him.
At his hesitation, she tries again, leaning forward slightly in her seat as to try and capture his attention.
"You can talk to me," she pleads, "You can trust me."
That seemed to be the right thing to say, as the man turns to look at her, his eyes softening and a small smile brightening his face a little.
"I know," he says, sincerely, gazing into her eyes so she knows he means it.
Liz blushes thankfully at that, though still sits eagerly awaiting a response to her question. He remains quiet, still driving.
She sits back in her seat, also facing the road. Liz does not want to push. Dot will talk to her if and when he wants to.
Though, she does feel impatiently desperate for someone to press their problems on her so she doesn't have to confront hers right now.
The rest of the drive is quiet. The pair lost in their own minds.
Pulling up outside her apartment building, Dot turns to her with a small smile.
She returns it, the best she can, despite the deep sadness she feels - the image of Steve looking at her, betrayed, as he was led away in handcuffs burned behind her eyelids.
"Thank you," she says, though hesitates opening the car door and stepping out, admittedly enjoying the company and curious as to what is on his mind.
Liz turns back to the man who raises a brow at her, "Would you like to come in?"
He exhales, the small smile spreading, "Yeah. Yeah, I really would."
"Tea? Coffee?"
"I can make the drinks, if you want," he offers, though Liz waves him off and heads over to the kettle.
"It's really fine. Feel free to chuck your jacket anywhere," she says, Dot turning to place his folded jacket on the sofa where she had thrown hers when they walked in.
"In that case, tea, please."
"Black with one sugar, right?"
"That's it, yeah."
As she makes the drinks, Dot moves slowly over to the kitchen, leaning his hip against the counter with his hands in his pockets. Liz looks over to him as she reaches for the teabags from the cupboard, taking in his deflated posture. His slumped shoulders prompting her to ask again, "You ok?"
He huffs, amused at her insistence, "Much better now I am out of that office. Forget there's a world beyond it sometimes."
She hums, agreeing, as she pours the boiling water into the two mugs.
"How about yourself?"
Liz looks over at him, a brow raised.
Dot looks at her, pointedly, urging her to answer his question, "You doing alright?"
She nods, timidly, unsure herself how exactly she is feeling, "Fine. I think."
Liz hears him sigh, watching as he leans fully against the counter and rubs his hands tiredly over his face, resting them against his jaw for a moment before composing himself again, sniffing.
"Liz," he says, taking a step closer now, "I really am sorry."
"It's not your fault," she attempts to reassure, assuming he means for everything happening with Steve and The Caddy.
The man turns his mouth downward in disbelief, clearly believing himself to somehow still be to blame.
She puts down the milk and moves over to him, leaning against the counter herself and folding her arms, adamantly, "Dot. None of this is your fault."
He just huffs.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," she tries again, concerned at how insistent he seemed to feel that he was the reason she was upset.
"I do," he says, sadly.
Liz notices him press on the old wound on his jaw with two fingers, as if purposely eliciting pain there. It still looked sore, though it should have healed a while ago. Her stomach jolts. He was using it to beat himself. To hurt himself. To punish himself. For what?
"Please, Dot-"
"This is all my fault," his breathing begins to pick up, his eyes almost defocusing as they dart away from her and around the room, his fingers still pressed deeply into his jaw.
She reaches out, taking both of his hands into hers and pulling them away. She holds them between their bodies, stroking her thumbs over the backs of his hands. Dot watches her, curious, though his eyes remain wild. His breathing evens out almost immediately at their contact. The coolness of her hands calming him.
Liz's mouth twists, realising if he is going to open up to her, she needs to open up to him.
"Steve has done this to himself," she sighs, watching their hands as Dot seems to grip her tighter at her confession, "He's let us all down, and himself. If it wasn't for you, who knows what more he could have destroyed."
Dot huffs heavily out his nose, taking a step closer and shaking his head. His hands grip hers tighter.
Liz sniffs, feeling terrible at her honesty but also relieved to be letting go, "I thought I knew him. I hoped I did. But...I just don't know anymore."
Dot lets go of one of her hands to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Liz does not hold back, moulding into his arms and resting her head against his chest, their other hands still clasped between them.
She feels his breath brush her hair as he speaks, wincing at the way his voice breaks, "I really am… sorry. It shouldn't be like this."
Liz sighs, closing her eyes, frustrated he does not seem to be understanding her point. How can it be his fault? He was just doing his job. And while she has her own doubts, she understands how suspicious Steve has made himself look.
She turns her head to look up at him, taking a small step back, "Come on, let's sit down."
He nods, not quite catching her eyes, gaze hung on the floor. Liz slips his hand into hers, leading him over to the sofa.
As they sit down, she scoots a little closer to him so their knees touch. Keeping his hand in hers, she ducks her head to catch his still lowered gaze.
The man looks up at her, his usual cocksure composure completely deflated, with his shoulders drooped and eyes dull. Her heart shatters, but she refuses to show it, determining her face.
"Talk to me."
He guffaws, the first hint of a smile on his face - but only briefly. Dot looks her in the eye, a glint of endearment in them at her use of her 'work voice'; the one he often teases her for and forbids her from using.
The glint then disappears, suddenly, diminishing Liz's hope she was getting somewhere with him. She just wants to get to the bottom of whatever is bothering him. Whatever it is he is hiding from her.
His mouth drops open slightly, but no words come out. It is as if the thought of vocalising whatever was on his mind is what silences him.
"I'm... scared."
Liz shudders at his shaky tone, as if the admittance pains him. Her breath hitches, not ever expecting to hear the man, usually so confident and assured, sound so broken.
"I don't want you hurt," Dot quietly admits, his eyes still looking away from her to the floor.
Liz can only stare at him, bewildered at the confession. What does he mean? He's only doing his job, as well as looking out for her.
Why does he feel so guilty for her being upset? Like she has insisted time and time again, it is not his fault.
How could he hurt her? He has been kind and considerate and supportive since the moment he stepped into the AC-12 office all that time ago.
She's grown to care for him - a lot. He was not as close as Steve, and they did not know each other as well. But Dot had proved himself to be a good friend. Unlike the other man, as harsh as it may seem to admit, he had not let her down at almost every turn.
She wasn't there to stroke his ego. She wasn't there to have her insight and advice ignored. And she wasn't invisible as soon as another woman entered the room.
He has not hurt her. He won't. He couldn't.
"I am here for you," she insists, "Just as you have been for me."
His eyes flick to hers, softening for the briefest moment before hardening again. He shakes his head slightly, disbelieving, his gaze once again defeatedly dropping to his feet.
Liz sighs.
Unsure what to say, and feeling guilty for it despite him finally seeming to open up, Liz allows herself to smile slightly, "Do you remember our first appointment? Just before we went into the room, Morton said something violently misogynistic that I don't have the energy to waste remembering. You laughed. Who would have thought then we would be here now?"
Dot brightens, only slightly, chuckling when he notices her apparent amusement at the memory, "We really were awful to you, weren't we?"
Liz hums, nodding, though her smile widens at his new brightness, "Yeah, you could be."
"I am sorry, really I am," he laments, again, "You didn't deserve any of that."
She huffs, though still amused, "Well, you did apologise to me for whatever Morton said as soon as the door closed behind us. That's when I knew you were different."
He raises a curious brow, urging her to continue.
"Well, you were a pain in my arse and only encouraged his behaviour," Liz humours, "but compared to him and the rest, you were polite enough to know when to stop. You could see when it bothered me. And you'd make a point of apologising."
Dot just looks at her, intrigued with a hint of astonishment.
She continues, "You're a good man."
His eyes widen at that, gaze snapping away to the floor. He pulls his hands away from hers, leaning his elbows on his knees to rub them fiercely against his face.
Liz frowns, concerned at his apparent dismissal of that claim.
She leans forward, urging, "Why can't you see that?"
"Because I'm not!" he almost shouts, leaning back harshly to glare at her, hands outstretched like a plea.
Liz blanches, confused, noting the way his eyes have glossed over again.
"I'm not," his voice breaks, helplessly, as he lowers his arms onto his lap and wrings his hands together. Dot looks away from her once more, clearly embarrassed at his outburst.
She sighs, leaning forward to reach out for his hands. He flinches again as she takes them, but immediately responds to her touch, turning his palms to enclose them around hers.
"There's so much I want to tell you," he almost whispers, shaking his head as he does, "But I can't. I just can't."
She allows them to sit in silence for a moment. Dot is breathing heavily, though his breaths slow with every moment that passes between them, matching the slow strokes of her thumb against the inside of his wrists.
"I'm going to shower," she announces, softly, deciding he needs some time alone to think through whatever is running around in his head, causing havoc. Maybe that will help him open up to her - he just needs to make sense of it himself first, not having had a break to recuperate for weeks, "Just call if you need me."
Dot nods, slowly looking up at her with large, sad eyes. He grips her hands tighter for a second before releasing them. She sends him one more small, encouraging smile before standing from the sofa and heading down the hallway.
Closing her bathroom door behind her, Liz lets out a breath. Things had been piling themselves on top of her, too. She also needed a moment, just to herself, to organise her thoughts.
Walking over to the sink, she considers herself in the mirror. Her eyes are rimmed red, her complexion almost grey. She looks tired. Very tired.
Pulling out her phone from her pocket to begin to undress, she sees an old text from Kate, prompting her to send the woman a message.
How's it going? Found anything yet? X
With any luck, her notes have assisted Kate in following another lead. She knows the woman stayed behind late in the office to look into anything that might help them prove their friend's innocence - if they could. Her hopes are low, especially this soon, but she can't stop thinking about it.
Her thoughts are on Steve himself as she steps under the hot water.
He's sitting in a cell right now. Alone, feeling betrayed.
Her gut aches thinking about it. Yet thinking about him is all she can do.
What will happen if he is proved innocent? Will he forgive her for not doing enough? What else could she even do?
Nothing. This is out of her control. Things won't ever be the same.
She almost wants to cry, but wills herself not to as she feels the scorching water hit her body.
Steeling herself with the reminder that Kate was investigating further, using her own notes, Liz finishes her shower, stepping out into the steam.
Wrapping a towel around herself, she walks over to her phone, checking it for messages. A notification has popped up. Kate has responded.
Is Cottan with you?
Liz frowns, unsure why that would be her response to her question. Maybe she has found something and needs Dot's help as a DI to look into it more. They have to keep their investigation on the low, not wanting someone like Gill stepping in and forbidding them. Even Hastings would likely advise them against it. But they could trust Dot.
Or maybe she wants to ask him a few questions, officially rule out the discrepancies Steve had accused him of in the cases.
Liz wipes her wet hands on the towel before typing:
Yeah, at mine. Why? X
She continues to change, towel-drying her hair and combing it through. Her eyes are often drawn to her phone, eager for Kate to reply.
Liz had hoped she would feel better after her shower. That some of her stresses would be washed away and she could relax, even if only slightly. Unfortunately, her head still aches furiously, her shoulders and back tight from tension.
Rolling her shoulders back to try and relieve the aching, Liz strains to hear her phone make the text alert - but Kate does not respond.
Wrapping her dressing gown around her and throwing on some joggers, Liz sighs, taking one last despairing look at herself in the now-fogged mirror. Grabbing her phone off the side, she walks back out to her living room where Dot stands in her kitchen.
His tie has been removed, strewn across her sofa. His jacket too has been placed beside it in a pile. He looks far more relaxed, after having a moment to himself, clearly having been embarrassed at acting so vulnerable in front of her. She wishes he knew how little she cared, that she appreciated his attempt at openness in front of her.
Dot turns around at her arrival, two mugs full of hot tea in his hands. He sends her a small smile as he places them on the counter, Liz approaching with a smile of her own.
"Thank you," she says, glad to see he has enlivened, even if only by a little.
"No problem," he says, taking in the sight of her in the dressing gown before looking away again, quickly and bashfully, "I used up the last of your milk, hope that's alright."
"Of course," she says, taking a sip of the hot drink, "It's lovely, thank you."
He nods, taking a sip himself.
Another moment of silence passes between them, both stood beside each other, holding onto their mugs.
"I always wanted to ask," Liz says, hesitantly, looking up at him. He looks curiously down at her, "You once told me I was part of the team. In fact, made a point of asking me to help with investigations, looking at evidence. And then when I volunteered to go undercover on the Hurrell case in Hastings' office, you didn't think twice to back me up. Why?"
The man puts a hand in his pocket as he takes another sip of his tea with the other, "You've got a good head on your shoulders. You know right from wrong. You can see things, about situations and about people, that others don't."
"Not quite the investigator that you are, though," Liz dismisses, smirking.
He shakes his head, "You empathise. That's special. Some of us don't have the luxury."
Liz blushes, her cheeks heating at his appraisal. She holds his gaze when it reaches her, taken back by the sincerity there.
Encouraged by her surprise, he continues, looking her in the eye with his voice low, "You keep me straight, fix my head on right. Not sure how I would get through it all without you."
It is her turn to shake her head, bashfully, placing her mug down before she drops it in shock.
Dot swallows, following her lead and placing his mug down shakily, "Truthfully? I need you there. Beside me."
Her insides are on fire, nerves twisting as he looks at her so intensely, "And I will be. As long as you need me."
That's all he needs to hear.
Dot leans in, their faces almost touching, his breath brushing her cheeks -
Liz takes a slight step back, bewildered. Since when have they been stood so close? Did he just try to-? What is he-?
Before her mind can comprehend or deny it, she takes a step forward, balancing on her tiptoes, and crashes her lips against his.
He responds immediately, closing the remaining space between their bodies and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. His other hand finds its way through her damp hair and behind her neck as both of hers fling themselves around his shoulders.
Their lips meld together, heat melting away the gap between them.
Her hand slides its way around the side of his neck up to his jaw, gently caressing the mark where his bruise was as their lips continue to connect. Encouraged, his hand slips up into her hair, tugging at it slightly as their kiss begins to deepen.
Liz feels a quiet groan roll its way up her throat, feeling the rumble of his chuckle at the sound through her chest pressed against him.
She wants to forget it all, trying to lose herself in the kiss. AC-12, The Caddy, Kate's investigation, Steve's arrest, all of it.
Steve…
Liz shudders in Dot's arms as she thinks of him. Her gut begins to twist, anxiously, almost begging her to reconsider what she is doing. What is she doing? She should be helping him-
No. Not now.
She pushes herself against the man holding her harder, willing herself to forget the other man. Venting all her tension into the moment, she beats down the guilt with another groan, Dot reciprocating with a satisfied grunt as their tongues touch.
Liz moves her hand from his jaw, sliding her fingers down to grip his collar, pulling him, if possible, closer. He moves too, his hand trailing from her hair down her gown to where it sits on her chest. Her breath hitches as he begins to peel it back, hot air sticking to the water droplets still dotting her skin. His thumb presses against her bare skin first, stroking gently as he slowly continues to pull the gown over past her shoulder.
He seems to hesitate, not pulling away from the addictive taste of her mouth, yet silently asking if she wants to continue going further.
She does not think, only feels her skin prick desirably at his touch. She yanks once again at his collar, vigorously pulling him down to her, their lips never detaching for a moment. She shrugs her partly-exposed shoulder, encouraging him to continue sliding the gown away. She can feel him smile into the kiss, fingers teasingly trailing against her skin as he does so.
Her tongue darts against his lower lip hungrily as the pads of his fingers dance across her collarbone, sliding down, down, down-
A phone rings. They pull apart.
Dot stares at her, stunned. She does the same, taking in the slight bruise of his lips and the way his face had reddened due to the heat. Liz's face feels hot, too, her lips now tender from the way she had crushed theirs' together. She revels in the feeling of her blazing skin while it still lasts, the cool air around them beginning to seep in.
She grins as Dot eventually beams down at her, the pair staring at the other giddily as they catch their breath. His hands remain on her waist, hers on his chest.
He looks happy, as happy as she feels. Though, there is a slight pang running through her heart, the same as in his eyes. She can't identify it. She doesn't want to. She wants to enjoy this and not overthink it, as usual.
He clears his throat, the woozy silence surrounding the pair suddenly diminishing as they remember the sound that interrupted them. Dot takes a careful, small step back, looking at her apologetically.
Liz nods her head, throat too dry to speak, indicating it was alright. Reluctantly, they let go of each other, Dot pulling his phone out of his pocket.
His face falls. Liz watches as it drains of colour. The passionate rouge that had doused his cheeks only a moment ago dulled instantly as he looks at the caller ID.
His eyes flit to hers for a brief moment, almost nervously, before he turns his back on her and walks a few paces away. He listens for a moment, speaking back in hushed tones she cannot determine.
Liz frowns, struggling to diminish the smile that remains etched on her face at the memory of what just happened.
Wait…
What the hell just happened?!
Liz turns away from the man standing on the other side of the room, suddenly aware of her exposed shoulder. Quickly pulling her gown back up, she bites back an incredulous chuckle as she thinks of the kiss. Taking a few steps over to her mug on the counter, she distracts herself by taking another sip of the now-cold tea that remains there, waiting for Dot to finish his call.
And what happens then?
Does he leave? Does she offer for him to stay? Do they… continue?
Liz shakes her head, eyes widening as the implications of this kiss suddenly dawn on her.
What does this mean? Was this just a one-time thing they will agree to forget, if possible? Will this lead to something more? Does he even want that? Does she? What does she want?
Steve.
She berates herself for thinking of that man again, feeling her nerves extinguish as she does. Why was he on her mind again? After all that? Surely the only people who matter right now in this moment are herself and Dot? What right does he have to intrude her mind over and over? What does this have to do with him? In fact, this should be the one thing in her current situation that doesn't. She wants to roll her eyes at the audacity of that man to try and ruin this for her - even without being there. No. He cannot do this to her. Especially not after all the shit he has pulled.
Though, her stomach does drop again with guilt at the thought of him.
Why?
What, because he has put himself in a shitty position and is now having to face up to the consequences? And, despite everything against him, and the risks this has for her, she, with the help of Kate, is still doing her utmost to help? That she is living a life beyond him for just a moment? Allowing herself to be, what she hopes is, happy?
Why should she feel guilty for that?
What more could it be?
Liz turns around as she hears Dot walk back over to her. She smiles, somewhat more bashful than she had been before, after a few minutes of sobriety.
His face is unreadable as he puts the phone back into his pocket. His eyes seem darker, not as jubilant as they just had been.
She panics.
Oh God. He regrets it.
Her face falls. As does her stomach.
"I need to go," he says, quietly, not quite looking her in the eye, "Something's come up."
"Oh," she chokes, taken back by his change in demeanour and unsure what else to say, "Ok."
The man seems to notice her apprehension, mouth hanging open slightly before he leans forward, swiftly capturing her lips against his again.
It is a shorter and sweeter kiss this time, though still heated. One that assures her he does not regret it. She smiles into it as she realises.
He hesitates as he pulls away, hovering his lips over hers for a moment, not wanting it to be over. She remains still, not wanting to discourage him from making another move. To her dismay, he stands and moves to grab his jacket from the sofa.
"Right," he clears his throat again as he slides his jacket over his shoulders and picks up his tie, pushing it messily into his pocket, "I'll see you soon, yeah?"
She grins, walking him to the door, "Yeah, see you soon."
He looks back at her once he has walked through her door, shoving his hands into his pockets as he braces himself for the cold night air outside.
He struggles to find something to say, Liz just smiling at him softly as she leans on her door.
Dot's heart breaks a little more, if possible.
He wills himself to turn away, his feet aching as they try to resist.
"Goodnight," he hears her say, sweetly, as he turns his back.
Before he can stop himself, he whirls back around, approaching her again in one long stride. He grips her face in his hands, pulling it towards him so their lips meet in one more, desperate kiss. Like it is the last time he will have the chance.
Before she has the chance to reciprocate - or he can get more carried away - he pulls away, turning on his heel and leaving the apartment building.
He dares not look over his shoulder at her as she stares after him. He winces at the sound of her door closing shut.
The nightly frost slaps his face as he steps outside. He takes a shuddery breath in attempt to settle his nerves, finding it futile. There is a wetness pooling under his eyes. He is crying again.
What the fuck have you done?
She leans against the door as it closes behind her, taking a breath.
What just happened?
Liz can't stop grinning. Her stomach is in knots - in a good way? She hopes so. Her head is running too fast to catch any thoughts to work it out.
Walking over to her sofa, her legs admittedly a little shaky, she flops down onto it on her back. Staring up at the ceiling, she tries to play it all over and think it all through. Her fingers play restlessly with themselves where they rest over her stomach as she replays whatever the hell just happened over and over.
What now?
She reaches into her pocket, pulling out her phone. There are still no texts from Kate.
Kate, ha! Can't wait to see her face when I tell her about this.
Does she not have any updates? Liz can only hope she is getting somewhere.
Maybe that is who called Dot? Perhaps she needed his help with something on the investigation, that's why she had asked whether he was with her?
Though, he had seemed worried. Liz hopes Kate is alright, if that's who it was.
Hopefully they would find something to help Steve.
Steve...
What would he think? And why does it matter to her so much?
Her stomach twists again. This time, she knows it is apprehension.
Would he be mad? Would he take it as another betrayal? That she has chosen a 'side'?
But how would he even know, now? Not like she can send him a text or call him like she usually would.
Speaking of phones, something catches her eye on the other end of the sofa. She sits up, reaching for it. A black phone.
Must be Dot's. It probably fell when he picked up his jacket.
She will have to give it to him tomorrow at work. Not like she can call him to come and pick it up!
Liz throws it back down, flopping back onto the seat.
Wait, hadn't he put his phone in his pocket? And wasn't the one he answered earlier silver?
She shrugs it off. Not like she was exactly thinking straight when he had picked it up.
That's where she eventually falls a sleep, emotionally and physically drained from the day. Thoughts float around her mind as her eyes close; Kate, Dot, Steve...
The last thought she has before drifting into unconsciousness is: what will happen now?