The police car pulled up alongside them just long enough for Sid to catch a glimpse of a smug Sullivan, before the tyres crunched again as he overtook them, churning up a tuft of grass as the back wheel grazed the bank.

''Such driving! And him a police officer!'' Mrs McCarthy was scandalized.

Sid chuckled. ''He's a wildcard, that one.''


Sullivan succeeded in arriving before Sid and the gang. He had just climbed out of the car and was standing adjusting his medals when the patrol marched past. The lieutenant at the back fell out, and came and stood beside him.

"They look alright to me." He said, his Scottish accent more prominent than ever.

"Well you haven't got as many, so you don't need to keep them all in check." Sullivan replied sarkily.

The lieutenant smirked. "Still as charming as ever. How you been keeping?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Similar. Been busy lately." He pointed to the military police armband.

"Suppose I can't ask what you've been up to?" Sullivan said.

"Fraid not. Who's been keeping you busy?" Graham replied.

Sullivan was slightly shocked. "You do know I can't discuss police procedures-"

"Ach no," Graham leaned against the side of the car, leaning closer to the inspector, dropping his voice slightly, "I mean, who's been at your neck?"

"Oh damn!" Sullivan pulled at his collar, covering the mark as best as he could. "He told me you couldn't see it!"

Graham was laughing.

"Well, who's the lucky boy? Give me all the details..."

"You don't want to hear them all-"

"Oh but I do!" Graham teased.

Just as Sullivan was about to come up with another excuse, the Rolls glided past, and came to a halt right in the middle of the parade ground.

Graham was outraged.

"What sort of twat-" He was matching off towards the car where Father Brown's umbrella had just emerged, and was being pursued by Lady Felicia's hat.

"Anthony-wait!" He hissed.

Graham spun on his heels. "What?"

"That's him - in the green."

"Jeez, could you not have found a bloke that could park?"

Sullivan laughed. Graham started barking at Sid, who replied with some of his usual insults. Perhaps he should intervene.

"Impressive," He smirked, as he sauntered up alongside the two bickering men, "One look at Carter and you've sized him up. Carter." He nodded at Sid. Graham tried not to laugh.

"Sullivan." Sid answered, in a voice that made Sullivan go a little bit weak at the knees.

"Christ," Graham whispered as they walked towards the clubhouse, "I wouldn't mind getting him alone around the back of the pub."

"Doubt he'd fit in that broom cupboard." Sullivan whispered back.

They hurriedly disguised their laughter as hacking coughs as they spied Father Brown and the others approaching.


At the end of the day, Sullivan was sprawled out across the sofa, cigarette in one hand and whiskey glass in the other, uniform unbuttoned and bunched around his shoulders. It was a shame the way the day had went - he didn't like falling out with people, and although he got a chance to say goodbye to Anthony and ensure that there were no hard feelings, he wasn't happy about the way they'd clashed.

And the way he'd pursued Sid was a bit annoying.

Though the way he was looking at Sid at the end of the day...

He absentmindedly gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists as images of Sid and the lieutenant together started surging through his mind.

At this point, Sid came banging through the door.

"Well, this is an interesting position."

Sullivan took another swig of whiskey.

"Been a long day." He muttered.

Sid shoved his legs out of the way, and slumped down on the sofa beside him. He was about to cross his arms when Sullivan swung his legs up into his lap.

"Hey!"

"I was here first." Sullivan bargained.

Sid shrugged. "Alright then," he looked at Sullivan again, "You alright?"

"Fine." Sullivan said, "Just a bit tired, that's all."

"You're tired?" Sid was incredulous, "Try running an assault course with a manic soldier."

Sullivan stifled a laugh. "Well, Anthony was always a bit competitive."

"Anthony!" Sid lept off the sofa as if the cushions had suddenly become a pile of hot coals. "You-you-" He pointed accusingly at Sullivan, who was... Blushing.

"You- you know him?"

"Well, our paths have crossed a few times, with-" Sullivan let out a long breath, savouring the look on Sid's face, a wonderful mix of fury and befuddlement, "work, and what have you."

Sid stared him, jaw very open.

"You what - Did you, how did you - his name's Anthony-"

"Yes," replied Sullivan, swirling the coppery liquid in his glass, "Anthony."

Sid was thinking out loud.

"If you'd have met him at work, you wouldn't know his first name. How well do you know him?"

Sullivan took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke up towards the ceiling. "Pretty well." He said quietly.

Realisation was starting to dawn. Sid let out a shocked laugh, then flopped down on to the sofa.

Right on top of Sullivan's kneecaps.

"Ow, Sid!"

"You slept with the lieutenant!"

"Ow, get off, I never said that-"

"You did, didn't you!"

Sullivan was struggling to get up, but Sid had him pinned to the sofa.

"Tell me!"

"Ouch, let me go-"

"Did you or did you not, shag that soldier!"

"Alright, alright, I admit it!"

Sid rolled off Sullivan, convulsing as though he was having a fit.

"Sid, Sid what's wrong?"

Sid turned around, tears in his eyes. Tears of laughter.

"You had sex, with him, he had sex with you-"

"What's so funny about that?" Sullivan was mildly offended.

"I don't know... Its a bit of a shock, to be honest."

"Right," Sullivan struggled up of the sofa, pulling at his tunic, "I'm going to get changed."

"Wait, you can't leave me in suspense like this!" Sid jumped up of the floor, "I need more information than that!"

"Fill in the blanks, Sid, its really not that hard." He shot upstairs, leaving the gobsmacked Sid sitting on the carpet.

He had shrugged off the tunic and was putting medals back in the box when he heard Sid thundering up the stairs.

"When, where, why-" He shouted.

"It was ages ago," Sullivan waved him off. "It really doesn't matter."

"Is that why he didn't like me? Does he know about us?" Sid asked.

"What us?" Sullivan asked bluntly. Sid felt a sudden pain in his chest.

"The fact that we... Sleep together. A lot, on a regular basis." He said eventually.

That's all it is, Sid reassured himself.

Sullivan finally finished arranging his medals in their little box, and snapped it shut.

"He does," He said quietly, "But I know he won't tell anyone. And he doesn't dislike you."

Sullivan looked at Sid, who was perched on the end of the bed, emerald uniform unbuttoned.

"How do you know that?"

Sullivan gritted his teeth again. Why were these simple questions making him so angry?

"Because he told me. As a matter of fact, he said you were handsome."

Sid burst out laughing. "Oh you're joking, you have to be joking -"

"Oh leave it will you!" Sullivan snarled, angrily fumbling with his tie.

"So was he checking me out? That kind of makes sense now..." Sid trailed off when he saw Sullivan's face.

The last time he'd seen him look as cross as he looked right now, he'd been roaring at Father Brown after he trampled over another crime scene. He wrestled his tie off and hurled it onto the floor frustratedly.

"Ed..."

Sullivan sniffed crossly and stared at Sid, hands on his hips. Looking extraordinarily pretty.

"What." He snapped.

"You're jealous." Sid whispered, smile creeping across his features.

"No, I'm not!" Sullivan lied, already feeling his cheekbones burn. Damn, that all makes sense now.

"Yes you are!" Sid sang, looking as smug as Sullivan usually did.

Sullivan kicked the foot of the bed in frustration and then sat down on the bed with his back to Sid.

He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before, he'd never had something like this, something he was scared of losing.

But Sid wasn't his - like he'd said, no strings.

There is no 'us', it's just sex. I don't matter to him. It's just sex.

His lip trembled, and he dug his nails into the mattress as he fought off a sudden urge to cry.

From somewhere in the background, Sid was talking.

"Well, he could have said something. Still, he's not my type." Sid laid back on the bed, and reached for Sullivan's hand.

"Give me a copper any day," He said sincerely, "I can't stand soldiers."

Sullivan turned around, looking pale and drawn.

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely." Sid reassured him, rubbing circles on Sullivan's palm with his thumb.

Sullivan smiled sadly.

"So," Sid started, ruining the moment, "Tell me about that fling with Lieutenant Anthony."

"Oh for-I thought we'd moved on from that!" Sullivan whined.

"You have to tell me everything, I insist. Or I will wind you up for the rest of your life."

Sullivan considered his options.

"And if I do tell you, do you promise to shut up about it?" He asked.

Sid nodded sincerely. Well, as sincerely as Sid could nod.

Sullivan buried his face in his hands. "You'll never let me forget about this."

"Well do you want me to go first?" Sid offered, "I've loads of embarrassing stories concerning exes."

"Err...No. No, I don't. I think I'll just resist that temptation," Sullivan stared at the wall.

"I'm sitting comfortably," Sid chortled, "Please begin."

"I met him one night at the Red Lion and we got chatting and that... That was it, really." Sullivan admitted somewhat lamely.

Sid rubbed his hand along the bedspread.

"To think you entertained him here..."

He looked at Sullivan, who had started blushing again.

"You didn't do it here, did you?" He gasped.

"Did you sneak into the barracks?"

"Not exactly." Sullivan choked.

"Then..." Sid furrowed his eyebrows, "Where did you do it?"

Sullivan was magenta.

"You didn't do it on the sofa-"

"No-"

"In the-"

"Once in the car," Sullivan blurted out, "Once in the broom cupboard round the back of the Red Lion."

"No way!" Sid shrieked. "I don't believe it!"

The bed was shaking as Sid roared with laughter.

"It's really not that funny-" Sullivan protested.

"In the broom cupboard-" Sid hyperventilated, "And in a police car-"

"No!" Sullivan was affronted, "His car! I wasn't going to shag someone in my car!"

"What does it matter who's car it was!" Sid wheezed, wiping a tear of mirth out of his eye, " I didn't think you'd be the kind of man to shag someone in any car."

"Well it had been a long week, and we were both quite drunk-"

"Quite drunk?"

Sullivan rolled back into the bed beside the spluttering Sid, still in his shirt and trousers, and started fiddling at his shoe laces.

"Am I gonna get the silent treatment now?" Sid laughed.

Sullivan ignored him, pulling off his polished shoe and chucking it into the corner.

The room was quiet apart from Sid's giggling, and he started pulling at his other shoelace.

"You told me you couldn't see that bite on my neck," He said suddenly.

"I didn't think you could," Sid said, poking at the offending mark, "Why? Did the amorous Anthony see it?"

He laughed and ducked away as Sullivan swatted at him with his brogue.

"You said you wouldn't say anything, you promised-" Sullivan whined, slapping at Sid with the shoe.

"I won't, I won't!" Sid chuckled, wriggling away from the weaponised footwear.

"That's the teasing done, I promise."

"It better be, or I'll throw you out." Sullivan warned.

"You wouldn't." Sid said in disbelief.

"I would." Sullivan threatened.

"I will throw you out and you can sleep in the car. Or on the sofa-"

"Oh, you know you won't," Sid teased, grabbing hold of Sullivan's arm and tugging him towards him, "Cause you'd miss me."

"No I wouldn't-"

"Yes you would!" Sid said in a sing song voice, pecking Sullivan on the cheek as the two of them lay on the bed, fully clothed in a tangle of arms and legs and laughter.