"Hey Dick…. Oi Richard…" Owen turned to hear a colleague come up behind him, "Did you hear we've got a serial killer on the loose, says they're after Dempsey and Makepeace."

Owen shrugged, "Why would anyone want to kill them?"

His colleague shrugged, "That's the million dollar question, my friend."

Owen tried to remember the name of the man who now turned affably away to tinker with the computer that was on his desk. Andrew. Yes, Andy. He didn't like nicknames himself.

The building was indeed alive with gossip. Office staff looked haunted as if they were victims or suspects, and clusters of police staff whispered with intense expressions around corridors and in the bathrooms.

Owen passed his day in peace, apart from the odd conversation with Andrew who reported any snippets of information to him. He finished up the laptop repair by the end of the day and sat in his cubicle, his mind circling around the problem like water around a drain. He imagined that Dempsey was doing the same. It was only right that he and his partner had become involved, as they should but to know that Lloyd was in charge was unacceptable.

Owen knew already that he too was involved and he'd be a victim, there was no doubt and he welcomed this chance. But this wasn't the way it was mean to be.

He thought about his mother, how he'd felt lost without her as she sat now in a care home, the outline of a woman who had once cared for him and now they were parted as if an ocean stood between them. And his soul tainted by his father's wastrel actions. A parent who had spent his years drinking and leaving them, only to return when he needed a punchbag. This darkness tainting the light of faith and he, the son, waiting for a sign. It had never arrived, until now.

The moment he saw the tall American, Owen knew his words held commands. Owen knew that his partner was the angel who kept him whole. Like Persephone and Hades. It was so clear it was akin to a rebirth. He could see the way forward and what he needed to do.

There was only one way to redemption but so much stood in the way of his fall to Dempsey's feet.

XXXXX

David Lloyd walked forcefully down the halls of SI-10, ignoring the glances that hung off his path with a scowl. His mind was on the meeting. Bloody Dempsey, that damm lunatic and bloody Spikings too. He would solve this case and get that promotion off this shit show and up to the top floor even if it killed him.

It had take months to get himself over the case that nearly had Makepeace shot. He'd misjudged the situation entirely and got the wrong guy arrested in a warehouse. It was Dempsey who'd realised that that it wasn't the guy held by Lloyd in handcuffs but his girlfriend who had the gun, clearly aimed at Makepeace. It had taken an hour of talking to get Makepeace to safety, an hour that felt like a lifetime. Anyone who thought Dempsey was all trousers and big mouth, had to reevaluate their knowledge swiftly. Shortly after, his position was made permanent. Yet Lloyd couldn't get past the deep seated hate. The man could fall from a window and and land right side up. Imagine coming the UK on a special programme and teaming up with Makepeace. Lucky bloody bastard. He'd heard the rumours, seen the pair of them together. If eye contact was sex, she'd be pregnant and... Lloyd cursed.

He slipped through the building and down the stairs to a large filing room, intent on finding the case information from Dempsey's time at NYPD and the guy who did the crosses on the bodies. There had to be a link and it was the Yank. He needed to find it now and catch them before Dempsey and Makepeace.

He flashed his badge at the weary desk clerk who tapped at her computer to give him access.

"You can go in, it's not working… I'll write it on a card…" She gave the keyboard a light thump and then picked up the phone.

With a barely muttered thanks, Lloyd hurried around her desk and stalked down the corridor into the endless rows of box files and cabinets.

She barely noticed the young man who fixed her computer by gently suggested she turned it off and on. Relieved to be able to carry on her Tetris game, she said thanks and pursued level 3.

He said thanks with a shy smile and she turned back to the screen, managing a brief spell before the phone rung with a special request to find a file from Harriet Makepeace.

When the day ended, she watched the screen go blank, remembered the file request and noted she could do it later, there was a serial killer on the loose, there was no way she was going there on her own. It could wait until her colleague turned up. She picked up her coat, and wondered if the mini market had a Vesta curry and if the Blockbuster video had arrived. She's been dying to watch Rich and Famous for weeks, after a friend said there was a man who looked like Dempsey in it.

XXXX

24 hours later

"You were right." Makepeace sat in Spikings' office and spoke to her partner.

"About everything or something specific." Dempsey teased.

Makepeace ignored him as he would expect. "I think the killer is getting your attention. This is about you."

"Or you." He retorted and she's caught off guard by this. "That depends on if they knew we were off at the same time. Cos you'd open my mail anyway…"

"Unless it's love letters, then yes." Harry agreed with a smile, "So they either wanted to be found by you or me, is that what you mean?"

"They would need access to the holiday chart." Chas looked at the work of colour coordinated art on Spikings wall.

"All the team have been in here at some point." Spikings grumbled, "You're all taking time off. Where did you both go?"

"Freddy," Harry replied quickly and Dempsey said 'out' and they looked innocently at their boss as Chas grinned.

"I'll make a list of whose been in here." Spikings said, "Chas, I want all the reports of whose been in and out of this building, Lloyd was meant to drop them off."

Harry looked sympathetically at him as she followed her partner from the room, almost colliding with Fry who carried the department mail. "Do you need a hand?"

Fry shook his head, "Most of it's for Chas, except these bits." He let the top part of the pile slide onto her desk.

Dempsey leaned over to catch them and then drag them to his side. Wathing him she smiled softly, knowing he was mindful these days. He threw two lots of junk into the bin.

"Anyone seen Lloyd?" Spikings bellowed from his doorway and she felt a jolt of concern as Dempsey's head jerked up from the yellow internal mail envelope that was in his hands, his eyes on her face.

"He's been avoiding me since that outburst three days ago and he's never sent those profiles over." Dempsey frowned at her.

Spikings marched over, "Edwards is going nuts upstairs and his team are aimless, he's missed the morning briefing."

Dempsey dropped the envelope on his desk and paced up the room, Harry now familiar with the movement of body and mind, as if he needed to release the energy as he thought over the scenario that was playing in her mind in tandem with his.

Spikings shuffled them into his office and closed the door behind him.

"It's not like Lloyd to miss a chance to lick Edward's butt." Dempsey commented finally, his face thoughtful. There was an air of wanting to escape and move to the next conclusion and she admired his restraint.

"He's in competition with you, even if you said otherwise, sir." Harry added, "He would do anything to get ahead of Dempsey."

"He'd never abandon it." Chas said as Spikings looked uncharacteristically alarmed at his team. "If you're saying what I think you're saying…"

Dempsey flopped down into a chair. "It had to be Lloyd next. If what we said this morning is right, then Lloyd was the next vic. Sturgeon, and Matthews were at the stakeout. We thought it was random, a wrong place but maybe there's a link."

"They're not professional, like a job that had to be done." Harry caught up with his thoughts, again wondering how they both got into these situations but those minds, Dempsey's predisposition worried her. "The taking of a hand and an eye are both clever, they related to what the victims were not doing. If Dempsey or I are part of this."

Dempsey eyed her, one step suddenly behind. In the past she may have enjoyed that feeling but she wanted him right beside her where she could see him. "Sturgeon didn't include you in his report, he took the credit. His hand wrote the report. Matthews didn't notice, he wasn't seeing you."

"Or us." Dempsey said gently, "You and me are a team but right now, I wish we weren't."

Harry nodded.

"But why send them to me?" Dempsey ran a hand through his hair and Harry fought the urge to flatten it.

"Because you're good at your job, despite your crazy ways, you're the best police officer in the unit." Harry offered instead.

"You wanna write that down?" He grinned but did at least look faintly embarrassed.

She blushed at his words and then turned back to their boss who was looking at them as if it was a verbal tennis match. She bought them back to the task. "Sturgeon, Matthews and Lloyd didn't share my opinion of Dempsey."

Dempsey next words were grave but certain, but Harry couldn't help the shiver at his tone. "Someone has started to kill my so-called enemies and the gifts feel like some sorta sick tribute."

She got to her feet before Dempsey could stop her and bolted out of the door. Dempsey's wide eyed horror was apparent on his face as she got to the envelope before him, causing the office to look up in surprise at the commotion. She held it out to him, suddenly horribly aware that this was for him, and if the killer was in their midst right now...she had to hand it over.

Back inside Spikings office, Dempsey picked the package lightly from her fingers. "You don't need to see this."

Harry stood firm, but she felt her blood cool as her partner poked inside the bag and his breath caught in his throat. "The killer took the tongue."

Spikings paled as he reached for his phone.

XXXX

It took a day to find the body of David Lloyd. The evidence sat in the forensic labs whilst selected teams evicted colleagues and scoured the building to find the owner.

Finally it was found in the corner of the filing units deep in the basement. Harry took charge immediately, reliving her partner of the proximity and Dempsey stood at the side, within her presence.

She was aware that in absorbing this detail, that the pinkprick of fear was still tapping on her spine and a chill settled around her, forcing her to stretch her coat around herself as the body bag was sealed up. There was the sense of being watched. That once trusted colleagues looked at each other with new eyes. Dempsey was known for being a maverick and different, but rarely wrong. She could feel his brain working, asking himself what he'd missed and if there was anything that could have prevented this, but that he too would be reactive to his association.

Harry turned to see Dempsey pinned in place, his eyes glued to the spot where Lloyd had died. Her arms ached to hold him close but she settled for a touch to his arm which he barely noticed.

"Are you all right?" she said gently.

Dempsey shook himself, like a distracted dog, then turned to look at her. "Yeah, probably."

She knew her face told him she didn't believe him for one moment, but said spoke softly, "Come on, let's go."

He nodded and followed her out.