John Smith tapped his desk, feeling more and more impatient as he anticipated his colleagues' arrival.

They finally had a suspect. Aidan and Dylan were sent to his residence to bring him to the station for questioning just an hour ago and he wasn't sure if they were successful in apprehending him.

That wasn't the worst part, however, as Donna and Rena kept flashing cheeky smiles and grins at him.

His entire team had met Clara at the birthday party. It was brief, but they all shared the same idea. They knew now that he wasn't just a grumpy lonely detective that they thought he was.

"Stop it," he growled as the two women laughed in response.

"You hear wedding bells, Rena?"

"I sure do, Donna."

John shut his eyes and sighed in defeat. Where were his detectives?

"Woah, you look like you jumped out the window and landed on a patch of bush or something," Rena commented to Dylan as he and Aidan dragged the suspect in handcuffs.

John opened his eyes.

The DCI's clothes were tattered and wrinkled, and he was covered in leaves and debris from head to toe. "He jumped out a window and I chased after him."

"I drove the car towards our new friend here," Aidan stated before handing the suspect over to a constable.

"The important bit is that you managed to catch him," the DCS commented, exiting his office.

"True, but my shirt's ruined and I just had it dry-cleaned yesterday," Dylan complained.

John ignored him as he began making the necessary preparations for questioning. "Rena, you're with me."

By the time they were in the interview room, the suspect, Geoffrey Brooks, was free of his cuffs and sat in a chair with his arms crossed, determined not to utter a single syllable to them.

"Do you recognise this man, Geoffrey?" Rena questioned as she produced a photograph of the victim.

He looked away, face frowning.

"Do you recognise this chicken shop here?" she continued, producing another photograph. "You were seen talking to the victim, next to the shop, just a day before he died."

Again, no answer.

"What did you tell him because he seemed to want to leave?"

John was getting tired of not receiving any sort of response from him. "What's your favourite scene from Breaking Bad?"

His questioned not only surprised the suspect, but also his colleague.

"What?" Geoffrey said.

"You don't seem deaf to me."

"How'd you know I like that series?"

John shrugged. "You're dressed like that character."

"Jesse."

"Care to tell us a bit about Vincent Mayhew?" the DCS asked, pushing the photograph towards him.

"Asked him if he wanted something to make him happy."

Rena pursed her lips. "You know we're not idiots, right?"

Geoffrey shrugged and crossed his arms against before leaning against the chair, avoiding eye contact.

After some time, they decided to leave him and discuss with the rest of the team.

"He's not talking, which isn't great obviously, but he started talking when boss-man mentioned Breaking Bad," Rena explained. "Mind going in there since you're the geeky one?" she said to Aidan.

The man shook his head. "I'm more of a sci-fi guy, Rena, there's a difference," he explained. "I've never seen Breaking Bad before."

"What about his home?" John inquired.

"Being searched right now," Dylan replied.

"You ok?" Clara inquired, examining the man seated just across her.

He raised his eyebrows, processing her words before realising she was talking to him. "Yep, fine."

"You sure my dad didn't threaten you?"

Danny couldn't help but chuckle. "No, he hasn't called in a while now, but I'm sure he will soon."

"Not surprising since he's probably busy telling his bezzie mates he proposed to Linda," she muttered, finishing her lunch.

He had always found it amusing how much she disliked her father's girlfriend, well, future stepmother now. Then again, Linda isn't what one would call pleasant. "At least he's happy, right?"

Clara squinted her eyes. "Whose side are you on?"

Danny laughed and raised his hands as a form of surrender. "No one, but I'm just being rational here."

"Are you suggesting I'm irrational?"

The smile immediately disappeared, and panic was written all over his face. "No, what I meant... was…" he stammered.

Clara then chuckled and he relaxed.

Danny then cleared his throat and worked up the courage to move on to the very thing he had been trying to say to her. "The bowling arena in Soho just reopened," he began. "I was thinking that maybe we could unwind and forget about marking and coursework and just have fun."

Her eyes lit up. "That's a great idea," she replied. "When?"

He tried to think of a suitable time. "This Friday?"

Clara's facial expression changed. "Sorry, can't do Friday," she apologised. "What about Saturday?"

He nodded in response.

"Great, we could invite Anna and Mitch, too."

He knew he would never have a chance with Clara, but at least they were good friends.

"Mr Pink," a student called as he approached the two teachers, followed by his friend. "You can't divide by zero, right?"

Danny knitted his eyebrows. "You can't."

The student laughed and looked at his friend. "You owe me a Twix, Mikey!"

The other boy was far less jovial. "It doesn't make sense, sir."

The maths teacher rubbed the back of his neck. "I know it's a bit of a strange concept, but it does make sense… we'll talk more about this soon, yeah?"

Mikey nodded as he was dragged away by his best friend who was eager to get his reward.

"Making bets on maths, that's new," Clara commented.

Danny shrugged. "At least they're engaging in maths in one way or another."

She then rose to her feet and grabbed her tray. "See you later, Danny."

"Looking forward to defeating you in bowling!"

"Look, we've searched your house and we've found something that could incriminate you in the murder of Vincent Mayhew," Dylan explained to the suspect.

He had changed into a fresh set of clothes and couldn't have felt more relieved.

John, who was seated next to his colleague, remained silent as he waited for Geoffrey to talk.

"If the pistol matches the bullet, you'll be in deep waters, so I would suggest you start talking."

Hesitation washed over his face.

"Could you please hurry up before I hit you with my shoe?" John snapped.

Geoffrey raised both eyebrows. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Yes."

The suspect fiddled with his fingers, contemplating. "Ok, look, I was told to convince the guy to join our group, alright – he shoved me first."

"Who sent you?"

Geoffrey went silent again. He pressed his lips together. "I don't know, some guy."

Both detectives knew he was telling a lie. "Yeah, sure you don't know who your boss-man is," Dylan retorted.

"I want a lawyer."

The DCS pursed his lips. It seems that they will have to wait for the ballistic report.

Without another word, the two men left the room. Dylan went the opposite direction, off to make a phone call while John observed the suspect through the glass.

About three hours later, they were back in the interview room with a lawyer present and unfortunately for Geoffrey Brooks, the legal advisor he got was someone fresh out of uni.

Dylan smirked, producing a file. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Clara stared at the man lying next to her as he caressed her bare arm soothingly, mind completely elsewhere. She had a feeling that it likely had something to do with his work. "What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm," was all the response she received from him.

She kissed his neck to get his full attention.

"Yes, sorry," he apologised before shifting his gaze to her. Here they were laying in bed and all he can think about is the closed case.

"What were you thinking about?" she inquired gently, curious, resting her chin on his chest.

"The case," he confessed with guilt. "Sorry, won't happen again, Miss Oswald."

"Want to talk about it since it's been on your mind for quite a while now."

He opened his mouth and then closed it, racking his brain for a proper explanation. He couldn't tell her the case in detail. Geoffrey Brooks started confessing the moment he was told that the bullet matched the one that came from his pistol. It was the breakthrough his team had been looking for, but he knew there was more to it. He had said it was a meeting gone wrong, and that the victim got aggressive and tried to kill him.

John couldn't help but think about the name again. Davros. It likely had something to do with him. "We got the suspect… he confessed."

Clara listened intently.

"I know I sound as if I'm not happy, but I think there's more to it."

"What do you mean?"

"He kept dodging questions about who he works for, which isn't all that surprising, but I think there's a turf war," he continued. "It's as if there's still a missing piece."

Clara is completely shut out of her father's business, and she was glad of it since she never quite approved of what he did, but at times like this, she wished she knew a bit more.

"Though I suppose I shouldn't be thinking about it too much," he said. My team keeps telling me that I work too much and need to stop and get a hobby."

She arched an eyebrow. "I hope you weren't thinking about the case earlier."

"No, no," John replied hastily. "Not at all."

Clara chuckled. "That reminds me, no receiving text messages at five in the morning."

He shot her a sceptical look. "But what if I'm needed or a new case comes through."

"I can make exceptions, but everything else is a big no," she murmured, snuggling him. "It's the weekend tomorrow and I want you to myself."

"Didn't think you'd be this bossy," he commented, stroking her arm once more and lulling her to sleep.

"I'm not receiving any complaints."

He kissed her hair. If he dared to admit, he likes it when she bosses him around. It made her seem more attractive to him, not that he would ever tell her that. The case is closed and he can finally give his full attention to the woman lying next to him.