hello everyone! thank you for your patience and for reading this fic! I am always overwhelmed by your responses and the positivity all of you share! here is another chapter for you, my longest one yet somehow! As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!
"Are you sure about this?"
"I am," she says, though unsure.
He nods from the seat beside her.
The pair are sitting in one of the meeting rooms. Steve takes hold of the remote, pointing it at the screen in front of them.
He presses play.
Liz takes a deep breath.
She closes her eyes as it begins to play.
"In last night's interview of DS Arnott, you produced a piece of evidence, item reference MRC2," Liz can hear Kate's voice say through the speakers, "Namely the golf tee in the envelope found at Danny Waldron's flat."
Hastings speaks next, "Wonder if you could explain in a little bit more detail how you came by this piece of evidence?"
She holds her breath as she waits for him to speak.
Her eyes snap open as he does.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're driving at, sir."
Tears flood as soon as she sees his face.
Right there, emotive, arrogant - alive.
The interview plays, Liz struggling to concentrate on what is being said as she drowns in a self-inflicted tempest of thoughts and emotions and regrets and blame.
Steve hears her whimper, grinding the palms of her hands into her eyes as the recording continues. He sighs, wanting to stop the video and comfort her but knowing she would refuse, possibly even shout, insisting she needs to know.
Maybe she just needs space. Steve had stayed at her apartment again the night before, too ashamed to face Sam and too scared to leave Lizzie. They had come to the office early that morning, Liz going to her own office to collect some files she needed to catch up on and Steve having an unnecessary reconciliation briefing with Hastings before receiving a briefing on where they were to go now. He had work to do.
He stands from his chair, concerned eyes never leaving her timid form as she winces at the screen.
"I'll be just outside if you need me," he offers, waiting for her to nod before reluctantly leaving the room, still keeping an eye on her until the door is closed.
He lets out a breath as he stands outside the room for a moment, before heading into the office to his desk.
Steve had already seen the tape, coming into the office for a few hours yesterday while Liz slept. He needed answers.
As he walks through the crowd of coworkers, a strange twisting in his stomach at the cruel quietness of them all, he is caught by the older Superintendent who looks uneasily over to the meeting room with Lizzie inside.
"Is she in there?" Ted asks as his eyes flick back to the other man who nods.
He had not been able to see his goddaughter yet, her ignoring all his calls for the past few days. After speaking with Kate, it seemed he was not the only one to receive such a cold-shoulder.
Ted had thought to drop by her flat, see how she was doing. But the last two days had been hectic to say the least. Meeting after meeting, report after report, file after file. It was a nightmare. He could not blame her for wanting a break and time to herself, away from it all.
He thought his old heart had finally given up on him when Kate had called in that that man had grabbed her, putting her in all sorts of danger. Worse than the time she had been caught up in that crash with Denton and the ambushers. This time, after seeing the officer shot down in front of his very eyes and having a gun aimed at his own self, he could only imagine what could have happened to her. His Beth. His little girl.
The events of that day had been traumatic enough for him and anyone else in that office, let alone her, what with the apparent close relationship they had shared and the ordeal she suffered through in the chase and shooting. He had not listened to her recorded witness interview yet, admittedly a little apprehensive to do so. But it was entirely understandable she had not come to him yet. The young woman needed time to process and recover before showing her face here again. She would come to him when she was ready.
It seemed the woman only wanted the company of one person after everything that had happened. And he respects that.
Turning to the man in question, he asks, "So how is she doing?"
Steve sighs, the sound twisting Hastings' heart as he fears the wellbeing of his goddaughter, "Just trying to understand it all. As we all are."
Hastings nods, unsure what else to say until he has some time with her himself.
"Listen, son," Ted begins with his hands on his hips, Steve's mouth twists as he irritatedly anticipates what is coming, "We really are sorry-"
"Please, sir," he laments, "I just want to move on from it. Besides, Lizzie has apologised enough on behalf of all of you."
The older man lets out an incredulous yet believing huff, "Poor girl."
Steve refuses to let a frown cut across his face. The last thing Lizzie needs is pity. But he knows the older man is only concerned for her, him caring deeply for the young woman but unsure what to say or do to make things better. Just as with himself.
And the last thing Steve needs now is to hold bitterness against any of them, especially over something so petty in the grand scheme of things. He said he wants to move on. And so he will.
"When she's done, let her know I am off for a meeting until around 13:00. Still have much to clear up. I fear we will for a long time yet," Hastings explains, his arms now folding across his chest as he once again glances concernedly to the room in which his goddaughter is inside, "I'll take her for lunch. You are welcome to join too, of course."
Steve blanches at the invitation, his eyes finally tearing themselves away from where he had rather distractedly been glaring at the meeting room, as if trying to sense whether Lizzie needed him to go back in.
"I am sure she will be grateful for that, sir," he nods, "but I need to get on with some of the new leads. Get back on track with it all."
His heart clenches at the idea of letting Liz go without him, but beats it down by assuring himself she will be fine. It is her godfather after all.
But he is worrying for her. Not having left her side since.
And, admittedly, he needs her there. To keep him upright. He is struggling too. Trying desperately to recuperate. To 'get back on track with it all'. It all feels like a dream. A cruel, taunting nightmare. One he cannot quite accept as reality just yet. But Lizzie is the only thing that has kept him grounded so far. He does not know how he will cope without her. It is selfish. It is irrational. It scares him.
But she will appreciate the time alone with her guardian. Steve knows they have not yet had the chance to catch up and there is much they need to discuss. Hastings is not the most emotionally-available of men, something he knows both from experience and from Lizzie's tales of her childhood. But he is clearly making the attempt to reach out here, wanting to be there for her.
Hastings nods disappointedly but understanding. The young man had always had a tendency to need to prove himself and he has no doubt Steve, after all their doubt, is feeling the compulsion now more than ever.
"Thank you, Steve," he says, as sincerely as he can muster through his concern.
Steve just nods, assuming the man means for more than just passing on a message - for being there for her.
He doesn't want thanks.
He just wants her to be alright.
Steve lets out another short sigh as the Superintendent walks out of the office with his coat and cap. He turns to finally reach his desk, pulling out the chair before hesitating.
He looks over his shoulder at the interview room. The glass panels missing from where they were shattered by bullets. The bleached patch of carpet after a shoddy attempt to clean where the helpless officer bled to his death. He then glazes his eyes across the room, scanning each weary face of his coworkers. Remorseful, he notes. Things will not be the same here for a long time. If ever again.
Something catches his eye. An empty desk. Dot's.
Steve sits down, almost falling into the seat, a hand coming to rub at his aching forehead.
How?
HOW?!
He almost wants to hit something if he had not already caused so much chaos around here.
He is distracted by someone approaching his desk.
"Kate," he greets, relieved to see his friend again. She sends him a small smile, her eyes then travelling warily to the meeting room in a silent question, just as Hastings' had.
"She's in there, yeah," Steve says quietly before she even has to ask, Kate nodding sadly in response.
The woman looks around for a spare chair, hesitating bitterly before pulling up the one from the empty desk.
"You alright?" Steve asks. Kate bites back a disbelieving laugh as if she should be the one asking him.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah."
The pair leave it at that.
"Lizzie said to thank you for signing off the tape, allowing her to watch it," Steve says.
"Least I could do. She deserves answers," Kate shrugs.
There is a moment's pause, the air suddenly thickening around them as Kate prepares to speak. Steve tenses.
"I listened to her statement," Kate explains, fiddling with her hands in her lap.
Steve closes his eyes briefly, breathing in through his nose before turning to her.
Kate is chewing at her lip. Steve knows it must be difficult for her, just as much of the rest of them. She too had grown to see him as a friend and had trusted him. For it to be someone so close… And Steve can only imagine, now knowing what actually happened that day with the chase and shooting, the way it is plaguing her mind too.
The woman clears her throat, "Liz and Dot."
Steve tenses.
"I didn't know they…" Kate trails off, her voice low.
Kissed, Steve finishes for her in his head, the ache there growing immensely.
"Me neither," he shrugs.
It is Kate's turn to sigh now, "Poor girl."
Steve feels his blood momentarily boil again. Not Kate too.
But he reminds himself of what he had earlier with Hastings: it is only because they care.
What else can they do? If any of them knew how to best deal with this, that is what they would do.
Kate does not know. She feels just as helpless as the rest of them.
All that time she spent out on the job. Undercover. Investigating others.
She should have just looked to someone who was beside her the whole time.
It is devastating.
The things she has lost. The time she has lost - mostly with Josh.
For what?
And now, with those closest to her struggling and not knowing what to do or how to help because she doesn't even know how to help herself - the headache just won't go away.
It isn't fair. None of it.
But they need to get to the bottom of it all.
And the only way they can do that is by working together, supporting each-other.
Some of them are angry, like Hastings. Some of them are confused, like Steve. Some of them are grieving, like herself.
But Liz?
Liz is likely going through it all. That's what she does. That's how she works. Over-thinking, over-feeling. Anger, confusion, grief - but also doubt and guilt. Doubt in herself and guilt she did not do things differently. Like she could have changed things, somehow, despite having no idea what was happening, just like the rest of them.
But she had the least to regret out of all of them. All she did, all she has ever done, was try to help. Steve, Kate, Hastings, Denton, Waldron, Dot too. If it were not for her keeping an open mind and trusting her own judgements, they would have never even considered looking into the possibility Steve was not to blame despite the stacks of evidence towering over him. If it were not for her, things would be fucked. More fucked than they are.
Where do they even begin to help her believe that? She never would. As much as they may want to try.
Kate will try, for Liz's sake. After all that woman has done for her, the least she can do is be there.
She owes her that. They all do.
Kate's head snaps suddenly to Steve, the man raising a brow at her.
"She never gave up on you, you know," she stresses, despite having done so many times before.
Steve nods, his gaze flitting unworthily to the desk in front of him, "I know."
"Promise me," Kate says, Steve looking at her again, confused, "Promise you won't give up on her."
Steve's face contorts into something Kate can only recognise as offence. As if the notion is something so ridiculous to him that he physically recoils from the suggestion.
"Never. I promise."
Kate lets out a quiet breath, not quite relieved but assured, knowing that would be his answer but grateful to hear him say it with such conviction.
"I want to be better. I have to be," Steve continues, sincerely, "I won't let her down again. Any of you."
He means it. He really does. He has not been this sure of something in a very long time.
There was little else to do in that cell but think about it all. Where he went wrong. What he would do differently if he had the chance. And this is his chance.
"Good," Kate shrugs, a small smile creeping onto her face, "Because if you do…"
"I can imagine, yeah," Steve chuckles.
Kate leans back in her seat, comforted by the way Steve's face sets determinedly as it turns back to glance at the meeting room within which their friend sits.
If anyone can help Liz, it is Steve. And if anyone can help him, it is her. Kate smiles, glad they have each other.
"Steve told me you came to the office to collect some files," Hastings begins as he sits across from the young woman at the restaurant table, "Does that mean you're working again?"
He had meant it innocently, merely attempting to make conversation. But the way she rolls her eyes and leans further back in her seat, as if defensively retreating further into herself, tells him he has said something wrong.
She groans quietly, assuming the older man is about to berate her for not wanting any more time off. To have the distraction of work to keep her from her thoughts and to stop her replaying everything over and over and over and over again until it drives her insane.
Hastings sighs at her lack of response. She had not said a word since they met at the restaurant other than the quiet mumble of her food order - that she has barely touched.
Ted takes another bite of his fish, clearing his throat before trying again, "How is Saoirse doing? I should visit soon, pay that little thing a visit. Bring some treats. 'Dreamies' are her favourite, right?"
Liz feels as though she might vomit, unable to even look at her plate of food now as she is reminded of other troubles she had yet to process, pushed down by more recent events. She swallows, looking to her lap.
Hastings puts down his cutlery, placing his elbow on the table and linking his fingers together. It seemed there was nothing else to talk about. So he would get right to it.
"I listened to your statement," he announces, Liz feeling her heart leap to her throat.
Realising she will not respond yet, Ted continues, hesitantly, "I didn't realise… I didn't realise the two of you were so… close."
Liz's eyes squeeze shut briefly, her hands coming to grip on the sides of her chair as her face heats.
Hastings lowers his hands, reaching one hand out to her. She takes it, willing her hand to stop shaking.
"I am sorry, Beth," her godfather pleads, giving her hand a squeeze, "I am so, so sorry. If there is anything I can do."
You can stop talking, Liz says so aloud in her own head she is unsure whether she has actually said it out loud.
She regrets the thought immediately, knowing he is only trying to help. To care.
But this is what she feared.
Pity.
She slowly lets go of his hand, faking a small smile for his benefit.
Ted sends her a warm smile back, though his eyes remain sad and - she shudders - pitiful.
"So," he takes another bite of his food, "How is Steve doing?"
Liz snaps her eyes to meet his, heart jumping at the mention of her friend.
She clears her throat, quietly, squeaking out, "As good as can be expected."
Hastings falters as he swallows another mouthful, not expecting her to respond after being silent all afternoon. He isn't surprised that line of conversation worked. All the man had seemed to want to talk about that morning had been her.
He nods, "We talked. Things seem to be on the mend."
"He understands. I think he just wants to get back to work," Liz explains, leaning forward to finally pick up her fork and eat a few salad leaves.
Ted has a small smile at that.
Liz can feel herself beginning to come alive again, with the food settling in her stomach. She had not exactly been hungry the last few days, only eating when Steve would encourage her.
She thinks over what she said. Steve really did understand. More than she thought he would. It seemed he understood why they did what they did, why they thought what they thought. That he forgave them. And so quickly too.
Steve was right, she supposes, when he said that their successful attempt to get him freed balanced it out. But forgiveness only comes with understanding. Something he clearly had taken the time to do.
And the way he had been with her since. The relief she finds in his kindness is almost unbearable. Like she does not deserve it.
He only asked questions when she was ready. Would not push when he could tell she was not ready. He both understood that while they should work on moving on and getting back to 'normal', they also needed time to process and recover. While Liz found herself torn between the two, he seemed to reassure her that there was a necessary balance. That they could not expect this to heal without time and effort.
Over the past two days, it had seemed he were counselling her. That he, despite her owing him to apologise and make up for all that had happened, was going out of his way to look after her and rekindle their friendship.
He has never pitied her.
And she is beyond grateful for that.
"He is a good man," Hastings declares, somewhat proudly.
Liz feels her face heat, for some reason, her fork pausing before taking another bite.
"He is."
"I am pleased you have someone like him to look out for you," Hastings continues to praise, "A very good man indeed."
Liz can feel her cheeks burn as her throat suddenly dries, unable to swallow another bite.
She recognises that tone. She is familiar with that small smile currently etched on the man's face.
She knows it from all those times she sat through his appraisal speeches of the men he has (unsuccessfully) tried to set her up with. Confident in his judge of character.
The suggestiveness of his comment makes her stomach sink, the food churning.
"I really do need to thank you, Beth, for all those times you assured me I made the right choice hiring him all those years ago," Hastings grins, Liz cringing at the forcibly casual way her godfather continues to eat his own meal.
Ted Hastings was not a subtle man.
"How is Roisin?" she hears herself ask, once again finding the courage to pick up her fork despite the uneasy way her gut is twisting at whatever insinuation Ted was trying to make. Her head is too hazy to even bother considering it.
Liz knows it is cruel to have brought the woman up when Ted was only trying to make conversation, but what concerns her most in this moment is the way she can hear her heart drumming in her ears as it pounds fiercely against her chest.
She lets out a breath in an attempt to catch it again while she waits for the man to respond.
Hastings avoids her eye, "She sends her love."
Liz raises a curious, disbelieving brow at his lack of enthusiastic response. She knows he is deflecting, that she should push him for more of an explanation as to whatever is going. Between all the lies and deception and misunderstandings she is currently trying to work herself around, the last thing she needs is the added stress of her own godfather being disingenuous and hiding something from her.
But before she can, admittedly also being too tired to, a waiter arrives at the table, placing something in front of her.
Thanking the waiter, she turns down to the small plate, her bitterness sweetening at the small dessert that she has been served.
Her gaze snaps back up to Hastings who is grinning happily at her, sending her a pleased wink.
She feels herself smile - a proper toothy smile - for the first time in days. Her dry lips crack and her sore cheeks ache. But it warms her heart nonetheless, revelling in the feeling.
There was little that could not be cured by a bit of toff-boff!
"Oh, Steve, hey."
"Hey," he smiles sheepishly, his hands in his jacket pockets as he stands on her doorstep, "Sorry to just show up like this, I didn't know where else to go."
Lizzie sends him a smile, genuinely happy to see him, opening the door wider for him to come in, "What's going on?"
He steps into her familiar flat, Liz closing the door behind him before raising a curious brow, though the smile remains plastered to her face. Steve relaxes at the sight, glad to see some colour back in her cheeks.
"Sam is moving her stuff out of the flat," he explains, looking at his shoes as he shifts his weight, dejectedly.
Liz takes a step closer to him, now concerned, "You broke up?"
Steve winces at her tone, slightly louder than he had anticipated as he nods.
Liz scoffs, gesturing for him to join her on the sofa. Steve removes his jacket, collapsing into the seat as Lizzie sits beside him, one arm resting on the back of it as she tucks a leg under her other, eagerly awaiting more information.
"Why didn't you say anything?" she asks, voice softer at the dampened look on his face.
He shrugs, "There was so much else going on. Didn't need to unload that on you too."
Liz sighs, reaching a hand out to place it on his arm. He immediately relaxes into the comforting touch, melting back into the sofa with an exhale.
"I am so sorry, Steve," Liz says, kindly, knowing how good the relationship had been for him, "When did this happen?"
It had almost been a week since the incident and he had been freed from that cell.
"The day before you showed up," he admits, suddenly feeling guilty for not telling her sooner, already cringing as he waits for her to react.
Liz removes her hand from his arm as it settles, "As in… She broke up with you while you were in there?"
He only nods.
He hears her scoff, shifting on the sofa uncomfortably. He can almost feel the heat begin to radiate off her as the anger rises.
"Bitch," she bites, Steve's eyes widening in surprise.
"Lizzie-"
"No, she can't just do that! She can't just do that to you while you're suffering like that! How dare she-"
"Lizzie, please. It's fine."
"How is that fine? That's just cruel! She is -was - your girlfriend. You weren't even on trial yet. She's supposed to stand by you, after all that time together-"
"Lizzie!"
She turns to him then, biting her tongue. He can see the animosity dissolve in her eyes as she takes in his composure. He was sad, of course. A little betrayed too.
But he understands.
The risk his charge posed to her career, her reputation. And the things he was charged for…
And after Dot, he gets it. How well do you really know anyone?
Lizzie seems to be the only one that always knew him.
This was a chance for Steve. To start again. To not think he is secure behind the safety net of having a stable job and a flat and a girlfriend. What does any of that mean if you are not happy in yourself anyway?
That time in that cell had him thinking even before she had ended things. But the day after, before Kate and Lizzie showed up, that's when the true reflections began to occur. The realisations. The regrets. The resolutions.
No, this would be good for him. He needs time to work on himself.
And who knows? Maybe he can find love again. Maybe there is also another chance for him and Sam.
"It's fine, really," Steve tries to reassure his friend, looking at him so sympathetically now.
She just lets out a disagreeing 'hmph!' He feels himself smirk a little at that, despite how much his chest hurts.
"I thought you liked her," he questions, turning his body to face the woman.
Lizzie's mouth drops open slightly as she works out how to best respond, "Well, when she actually bothered to talk to me she was nice enough."
"What do you mean?"
"You never noticed?" she almost laughs at his confused ignorance as he just stares at her. How could he not have seen the way she glared at me?
"I wasn't her biggest fan and she definitely wasn't mine, let's just say that," Liz settles on, seeing Steve actually have somewhat of a smirk on his face, making her feel better about being honest now that she could.
Steve just nods, his mouth turning upwards at the news.
"Does Kate know?"
"Not yet, though I am sure she will have a similar reaction," Steve chuckles quietly, causing Liz to smile wider.
She is sure that is true. The woman was not exactly subtle about who she liked and disliked, with the woman rolling her eyes practically every time Steve mentioned Sam.
"I am thinking of selling the flat," Steve then explains, wanting to move on, "Too many bad memories."
"Fair enough," Liz agrees, "Well, if you need anything just let me know. You can stay as long as you need."
She hopes that does not come across as much of a plea as it did in her head. She was still recovering, still processing everything. And she was enjoying his company, having him back in her life. But he also needs his space to recover too. He probably doesn't want to be her babysitter when there is so much he has to deal with himself. Don't overstep, that's just desperate.
Steve's chest pangs at her offer. He wants to stay, for the pair to look after each other as they have done. He is enjoying her company, having her back in his life. But she is just being polite as always. And she needs her space to recover too. She probably doesn't want to be his babysitter when there is so much she has to deal with herself .Don't overstep, that's just desperate.
Steve just smiles politely, ignoring the way his chest continues to ache disappointedly at not responding to her offer, "So, how are you?"
Liz does not allow her smile to falter, despite the way her stomach twists in disappointment at his lack of response to her offer, "Better. But being stuck here like this is driving me mad."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Ted has pretty much banned me from the office and work for the week. So it is just me and my thoughts."
"And Saoirse," he corrects.
Her eye twitches.
"And Saoirse," she repeats, voice low, hoping he does not notice the slight shake in her tone.
Why won't you just tell him the truth?
No, there is too much going on at the moment to unload that on him too.
Isn't that what he just said about Sam and the breakup? Isn't that what just irritated you?
Yes, but I was going to find out about Sam sometime. He doesn't have to know about… all that.
"You ok?"
"Yeah," she brushes off with a smile as she snaps out of her daze and continues to speak as to not arouse suspicion. Steve doesn't need another reason to be worried about her, "Anyway, yeah, so I have had nothing to do. It is driving me mad."
"Why don't you just go to the office then?"
"Didn't you hear me? Ted has banned me."
"You're twenty-seven years old, what is he going to do?" Steve guffaws, teasingly.
"I know," Liz also giggles, "But after twenty-seven years of it, it is hard to stand up to, I suppose. He knows how to get to me."
"And how did he get to you?"
"Bribed me with some toffee-banoffee pie," Liz admits, a wider smile splitting her cheeks - a sight Steve indulges in, "I couldn't say no."
Steve lets out another laugh, "Ah, yeah. Toff-boff."
Liz almost gasps, shocked, "You remember that?"
Steve thinks back to that evening all almost three years ago, when he and Liz were at that meal with Georgia and Roisin and he learned the truth about Ted as her godfather, "How could I forget?"
Liz's hands come to cover her face as her cheeks heat a little in embarrassment, but she laughs along with him anyway, glad to have a moment of cheer after such a stressful few weeks. They are both almost dizzy with it.
"I did barter though," she then reveals, the smile slowly falling from her face as her hands drop to her lap. Steve suppresses a disappointed shudder of concern as he watches her deflate, the room seeming to close in around them as he waits for her to explain herself, "No one came to claim the fees for Dot to have a funeral."
Steve holds back a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek as a bitter taste floods his mouth when she speaks of the man, especially using that damn nickname. His hands grip at his trouser on his thighs. He misses the jubilance they shared a moment ago. He knows where this is going.
"I asked Ted to sign the release form from the coroner's office," she admits, voice now shaky as she swallows sobs rising in her throat. Steve winces at her hurried tone and the way she avoids his gaze, as if trying to convince him of what she has done, pleading for his approval, "He will be cremated. And it will just be a simple plaque at the cemetery, nothing fancy or expensive. But he deserves something. To be remembered. He can't just be forgotten."
Steve almost lets out a bitter snigger. How can that man be forgotten when he has plagued his mind for the past week? He has almost failed to think of anyone else, if it weren't for the concern he has for Lizzie and her wellbeing.
He catches her eye, the tears brimming her now red eyes as she struggles to hold them back. His indignation melts away after just that glance.
He can see how important it is to her. Dot, after all, had been important to her.
This woman. She is just too kind.
And it is kind of sad, when he thinks about it. Maybe Lizzie is right. Dot didn't have anyone.
Steve shifts slightly closer to her, Liz almost instinctively resting her head against his shoulder as she sniffles away tears. He wraps an arm around her shoulder, drawing her in closer.
"Ok," he says quietly, unsure what else to say, her feeling him nod his head above hers.
That is all the approval Liz needs, her chest swelling as the man once again understands her reasoning without even having to ask. Ted had been taken back by the request too, even seemed close to refusing, but she had managed to convince him by promising to take a break.
Thinking of Ted, Lizzie is reminded of what she has wanted to ask Steve when she saw him.
"How did your meeting with Ted go anyway?"
Steve can feel her warm breath seeping through his shirt as she speaks. He moves his head so his chin rests upon the top of hers, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently as they talk.
He knows Hastings likely spoke with her about it at their lunch, but he smiles slightly at the idea she still wants to know what happened from his perspective. She always cared about that. Hearing every side, considering every feeling.
"Good, I think, yeah," he responds, "I wasn't sure how he would react to me coming back, but he was fine. Apologetic, though I told him not to be. Stressed how you were the one to thank, just as everyone has."
Steve tightens his arm around her, squeezing her close to him. Liz smiles as she remains quiet, wanting him to continue and move on from that.
"Said my job is always open to me, and he was happy to have me back. That if there was anything he could do for me to help settle back in, to let him know. Then had a quick briefing and he told me to 'get to work' like nothing had changed."
Liz chuckles slightly, "Yeah, he never was one for sentimentality. I am glad it went well."
"Me too."
"He really does believe in you, you know," she stresses, "Always stood by your side when you made, well, bad errors of judgement."
She feels Steve tense slightly around her, embarrassed.
"And he had no choice but to go ahead with the charge against you. I mean, that evidence-"
"I know," Steve stops her, almost hearing her mind as it overworks, "Come on."
Liz almost jumps when he suddenly moves, her falling from his shoulder as he reaches to the table for her laptop, opening it.
"What should we watch?" he asks, diffusing her confusion.
She smiles, knowing he is trying to distract them both, stop them from only talking about it.
Lizzie thinks for a moment before hitting her shoulder against his, "How about Midsommer Murders? Put those detective skills of yours to the real test."
Steve smirks at her teasing tone, glad to see a smile back on her face as he looks at her over his shoulder. He searches for an episode, pressing play, before leaning back and opening out his arm to invite her to lean against him. She immediately does, her head once again coming to rest just below his shoulder as her legs tuck under herself.
What are you doing? he thinks. Your girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - is literally moving her stuff out of your apartment as you sit here cuddling up to some other woman?
But this isn't just any other woman.
This is Lizzie.
So he allows himself to enjoy it. That tranquillity and peace of mind only Lizzie can offer him when everything else was so...shit.
A few hours later, and the pair are still sitting watching Midsommer Murders together on Liz's sofa, her head still perched on Steve's shoulder. He had said he would expect Sam to still be at his for a few hours yet, when in truth she had text him while he was at the office saying she would likely be gone after an hour or so, and that was this afternoon.
Liz sits up, reaching to the table to take a sip of the hot chocolate Steve had just made her using the sachets from her cupboard. She almost chokes in surprise when something comes flying through her letterbox.
She swallows, hard.
She tenses, stiff.
She refuses to look, her heart stopping.
The mug would almost be dropping to the floor if not for the way her fist has come to clench so strongly around the handle, her knuckles white.
She panics as Steve begins to rise, standing from the sofa to move towards it.
She shouts before she can stop herself.
"NO!"
The man pauses, turning to look down at her with a confused frown.
"Wait," Lizzie says as her cheeks heat under his gaze.
"What is it?" he asks, concerned, watching as she slowly sets down the mug on the table, her hand shaking as she does.
Liz stays quiet, rushing to move past him to get to the offending item first. She can feels Steve begin to move behind her too, cursing under her breath that this had to happen now.
That's when she sees it. What she feared. Another envelope.
She goes to grab for it, attempting to stuff it in the drawer with the others before Steve can get a good look at it. Unfortunately, he takes a step closer, wrapping his hand around her wrist to stop her from closing it shut. She jumps, wincing.
He removes his hand, looking down to the contents in the drawer, two white envelopes, and the envelope in her hand. His gaze raises to meet her eye, brow creasing fiercely as he sees the way her eyes begin to cloud over.
"What's going on?"
Her heart almost breaks at the concern laced within his soft tone.
She has dreaded this moment. Tried to put it off. Hoped it would never have to happen, that things would pass.
Seems she has no choice now.
She tries to speak, her throat too dry for the words to push through. Her jaw just hangs open, lips parted as the sound refuses to be heard.
Steve's frown deepens, his eyes flickering from the envelope to her face then back again as he reaches out to take it from her hand. Her arm flops down to her side, Liz taking a weary step backward from the drawer, allowing him to see.
She should warn him of what is in there. But the words fail her again.
Liz watches as he feels the small object inside the envelope before opening it, the frown never leaving his face as he confusedly wonders what it is. She cringes as he tears it open, taking another step back as she watches his face fall into a look of disgust.
His eyes snap back up to hers as he struggles to find something to say.
"Lizzie.. What? What is this?"
She knows Steve knows what it is in there. What it means. But she owes him an explanation. It is long-overdue.
"I...it has been happening for the last two months," Liz manages to squeak out, forcing herself not to look at the envelope and look her friend in the eye, "Saoirse went missing. I tried looking for her. But then the first envelope arrived."
Steve's eyes fall to the open drawer, seeing the other packages. He swallows down some bile, now that he knows what they contain.
"A few weeks later another one came. I don't have the stomach to open them again," she clears her throat, her stomach queasing.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Liz recoils as he asks her that, having dreaded it. She finds some courage in the way he sounds more distressed than offended.
"I wanted to, I did try. But things were happening, and escalating, and I just- I don't know, I -"
Steve nods, putting the envelope down on the dresser, making sure the opening faces away from Lizzie so she does not have to see what is inside. He understands. The last few weeks had been mental to say the least. And the two of them were not exactly in the best place. He isn't angry with her, if anything, he is angry at himself for not being there. Being too wrapped up in himself and his arrogance. Yet again, he has let her down.
"Do you know who is behind it?" he asks, hoping to put those thoughts behind him for now and get on with helping her, his main priority. This is not the time to be wrapped up in himself again. Lizzie needs him.
She shakes her head, arms folding across her body, "No, and there has never been a note or anything. But if... for them to… to know about Saoirse, they must have either been in the flat or-"
"Or following you," he finishes for her, seeing the way her body is shaking anxiously.
"I thought someone had been following me," Liz closes her eyes, shuddering at the memory, "A few times when I would walk back from work. I thought of almost anyone it could be, but was still somehow convinced I was imagining things. Must have happened at least three times before the envelopes started arriving, when the following would stop. It was a man, I could work that out, but never saw a face or heard a voice. Didn't think much of it, not like it is uncommon for a woman to be followed like that when it is dark. I thought it was Danny to begin with-"
"Danny Waldron?"
"Yeah, after the way he had glared at me after his first interview. Thought maybe he remembered me and felt like I had been feeding you all the wrong impression of him or something, I don't know. But then he died, and the following happened again. Then the first envelope came."
"And it is just the three envelopes?"
"So far, yeah."
"Then we have another chance to catch the bastard," Steve grits his teeth, assuming there will be a fourth package.
"No, Steve, please," Liz almost shouts, "If you go after them you could get hurt-"
"And if I don't, you could get hurt. I won't allow that to happen."
Liz stays quiet, unsure how to respond to that, her heart beating wildly as it warms.
"Lizzie," Steve sighs regrettably, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, "You should have said something."
"I know, I did try. I promise. But with everything-," she holds back a wail, gaze falling to her feet as her cheeks heat again, embarrassed, "I'm so sorry."
"No, no," he pleads, shaking his head and taking a step to stand in front of her.
He carefully reaches out, placing a finger gently under her chin, chucking it softly to make her look up at him. She meets his eyes as his hand moves to rest on hr cheek.
"I am sorry," Steve whispers, "I should have been here. I should have helped."
Liz shakes her head slightly, pressing her face further into his warm palm.
He ignores her protest, looking her in the eye as his other hand also moves to cup her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks, "But I am here now. And I want to help, whatever I can do."
Liz lets out a small sound, something between a sob and a chuckle, her hands coming to cover his on her face, "Thank you, Steve."
He nods, his own face breaking into a small smile as hers does, "We will sort this. We can report it to the branch tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok," Liz resigns, finally breathing again when he lowers his hands from her face, though moves to continue holding theirs between them, "But can we keep it lowkey? You know how protective Ted can be, and I can't handle another smothering or suspension."
Steve chuckles again, knowing she won't budge on that, "Sure."
It is as if Liz can feel the weight lifted from her shoulder immediately, relaxing with every stroke of his thumb across the back of her hand. She should have told him so long ago.
He lets go or a moment, putting the envelope in the drawer along with the other two and closing it.
"You can be so recklessly selfless sometimes," he shakes his head with an endeared smile as he takes her hand again.
"And you can be so recklessly selfish," she quips quickly, regretting it immediately, unsure where that sudden flash of anger came from.
Liz pulls her hands away from him and takes a step back, shaking her head in shame of what she has just said, "Steve, I am sorry, I didn't mean-"
"It's ok," Steve says, nodding and reaching for her hands again to prove himself, "Really, I get it."
Liz unwinds immediately, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, accepting his hands.
He understands. That things have been so overwhelmingly complex and contradictory and confusing - she doesn't know how to feel. He is just the same.
"I have been an arse, and things need to change," Steve confesses to Liz's surprise, "This is a new start, an opportunity for things to be better. And things will be, I believe that."
Liz nods, eagerly, gripping his hand tighter.
"I won't let you down again," Steve promises, "We just need to be honest with each other."
"No more secrets," Liz agrees, thinking briefly back over all the times things could have gone differently if they had just told one another what was going on.
"No more secrets," Steve repeats, smiling at her.
Liz smiles back, heart beating longingly at the idea of things improving; herself and Steve healing together and growing together.
"Let's finish that episode, hm?" Steve suggests, keeping one of his hands over hers as he begins to lead them back to the sofa, "Still convinced Mrs Figg is guilty."
"Ah," Liz teases, her smile widening at his mockingly cocky tone, "still hooked on the theory she pushed her husband onto that rake and killed him?"
"Oh, I'm certain," he laughs, pressing play on the laptop as they settle back on the sofa, Steve opening his arm out once again for her to curl up beside him, which she does without hesitation.
A little further into the episode, Liz glances up at the man beside her, so enthralled in the crappy drama on the screen.
She smiles.
This really is a new start for them. A chance to put everything behind them and move on - together.
It warms her heart to hear Steve admitting his mistakes, wanting to learn from them and better himself. And Liz wants the same. Their friendship means more to her than - well, most things.
He has been nothing but good to her. Patient and kind and warm.
A good man, Ted had said. And he really is. The best.
She isn't sure what she would do without him, especially now, when everything feels as though it has collapsed around her. Him helping her to pick up the pieces, make sense of them. Him being the only thing that she knows is true. Keeping her grounded when she could so easily be floating in the deep, dark abyss. Holding her hand, pulling her back.
For him to forgive her the way he did, not worrying about getting justice for what happened to him. Seeming to be more concerned with how she is doing than himself.
She is so used to looking out for everyone. But she needs it now, more than ever - for someone to look out for her. Especially when she is doubting herself so terribly, after such a betrayal. Needing to have someone and something she can trust.
Liz knows Steve is there. Liz knows she has him back. Liz knows she will not let him go again.
If Dot could use their relationship against them, as he had done so cruelly, anyone could. In fact, the more Liz thought about it, even Denton had tried to come between them. It all made sense now. All those moments and looks and comments, like at the funeral when Lindsay had taken Steve's hand before pointedly scowling at her, or the times she would request for her to attend the interviews where she would call Steve out for his behaviour, looking over to Liz as if to want to revel in her reaction. She knew the pair were close, and she used it to her benefit. To rip them apart, as her revenge. And Liz had been too ignorant to realise it.
But she knows now. How cruel people can be. And how much her friendship with Steve means to her.
No one will get to do that to them again.
Liz won't allow that to happen.
Her smile widens as he turns to look down at her, a smile brightening his own face. Her cheeks heat a little at being caught staring, as he raises a questioning brow at her.
She just shrugs, turning her face away from him to look at the screen. Steve chuckles slightly, confused but amused, tightening his arm around her as he also returns to the screen. She snuggles further into his side, an arm snaking over his waist to rest there. He watches as it moves, the skin almost burning under her touch, making his stomach twist (for some reason).
With his cheek pressed against her hairline, careful of the still healing stitches there, he sighs, content.
How lucky is he to have this moment of normalcy despite everything that had gone, and is going, on?
How lucky is he to have someone beside him he cares so deeply about and that acres so deeply for him too?
How lucky is he to have her?
My Lizzie.