Dave Oswald was all smiles when he entered the restaurant, nodding at some of the waiters who recognised him and led him to a table that was situated in a quieter part of the room.

Clara had been vague, from the very beginning, whenever he asked her about her so-called boyfriend.

There was even a time he thought that 'John' doesn't exist and that it was just someone she made up just to stop Linda from bombarding questions regarding her love life.

"Would you like to order a drink first, sir?" the waitress asked.

He shook his head. "No, I'll just waiting for my daughter and her significant other," he replied before she left him alone.

A few moments later, Dave Oswald finally spotted his daughter making her way towards him and his gaze then set on the man following her.

He felt as if his heart attempted to jump out of his chest. He recognised the man as Dylan's boss.

"Hi, dad," Clara greeted as she kissed her father on the cheek.

Dave couldn't quite recover from the shock just yet, staring at John who felt even more nervous by the second.

"This is John Smith," she introduced. "John, this is my father."

The detective extended his hand and both men shook hands. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr Oswin."

Dave cleared his throat. "Likewise," he muttered before all three sat down.

There were so many questions running through his mind as he glanced at Clara. Why hadn't she mentioned such a significant detail beforehand? Why the hell is she dating someone from Scotland Yard? Of all the humans in London, why did it have to be this John Smith?

"So, John," he began, trying hard not to sound cross. "How did you and Clara meet?" he asked. "She said it was under unusual circumstances."

"Aye, we met in the men's room at her school," the detective explained. "She was looking for a student she thought was hiding in one of the stalls."

Dave forced a smile, gripping the menu with excessive force. "Unusual indeed," he commented. "Just like what happened to me and her mother, though not that unusual of a meeting."

"Clara mentioned you met her mother thanks to a leaf," John pointed out.

"Yes."

Clara, on the other hand, could feel her father's mood shifting and decided to divert the conversation. "How's work?" she inquired casually. She had told John that her father owns a courier company that operates in several countries and planning to open business in a few more, enough of an excuse to avoid suspicion as to why she doesn't see him as much.

"Same old, same old," Dave answered. "For as long people have something to ship, we deliver, which reminds me, Linda sends her regards."

"I'm sorry to hear that she's unwell."

The old man shrugged. "It happens," he said, suddenly feeling the urge to light a cigar. "So, what exactly do you do for a living John?"

John had been right with his prediction that his girlfriend's father would take an immediate dislike to him but decided to put the thought aside. "I'm a detective," he answered. "I've been one for over 25 years now."

Their conversation was interrupted when the same waitress came over to the table once more. All three placed their order and shortly after, Dave excused himself to use the men's room.

"He hates me," John said the moment Dave was out of earshot. "This is worse than I imagined."

"He doesn't hate you, well, he might hate you a tiny bit, but I'm sure he'll like you once he gets to know you a bit better," Clara comforted, rubbing his back soothingly.

"It's likely due to the age-gap."

She sighed. Her father would have reacted the same way regardless of whether John was significantly older than her or not. "I know this is going to sound a bit strange, but he doesn't quite see people in the police force in a good light."

The detective frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, eyes full of curiosity.

Just like that, she lost her confidence to tell the truth again. "He… doesn't trust the police… thinks they're not doing their job properly."

Clara wished the ground would swallow her then and there. She knew what held her back. She couldn't bear the thought of their relationship ending. If John knew the truth, he would see it as a conflict of interest and do the right thing.

"How do I prove to him that I'm not bent?"

"I honestly do not know," she confessed since that wasn't even the issue.

Dave Oswald sighed defeatedly as he looked down at the sink before slowly glancing up to look in the mirror. The relationship between his daughter and the detective is a dangerous one.

If that boyfriend of hers finds out who he really is, then all hell would break loose. He didn't want to see his only child suffering another heartbreak again.

As much as he didn't like John, he thought it was best to give him a chance. All he had to do was avoid topics relating to crime and his associates.

Why a detective? He would have been happy if the man was a bloody clown but no, it just had to be someone who was likely chasing after him.

"I suppose I'm safe with Dylan around," he muttered to himself.

With another defeated sigh, Dave fixed his collar before exiting the men's room, walking with more confidence this time. He made a mental note to have a chat with Clara soon.

The rest of the evening went far better than earlier, with Dave having to calm down a bit and no longer glaring at John every five seconds.

"It was nice seeing you, dad," Clara murmured as she hugged her father.

Dave beamed. "The feeling is mutual," he replied before shaking hands with John. "Stay safe, though I'm sure the detective will make sure of that."

"You too," Clara said, waving her father goodbye before hooking arms with John as they headed for the tube station nearby.

Dave silently observed the couple before a black sedan pulled over next to him. He entered the car and shut the door. "St James' Club."

"Yes, sir."

"Would you like me to tell you something about yourself?" Clara asked later that night as she climbed into bed.

John looked away from the television, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"You're audible when you think."

He flashed her a nervous smile. She was so good at reading him. "How do you know I'm not thinking about the case I'm currently working on?"

She rolled her eyes, puffing her pillow. "Please, you only brood this badly when you think something went wrong."

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it when he realised that she was right. "I don't brood."

"No, you pout," she laughed, resting her head on the pillow. "So spill it, DCS Smith."

He switched off the telly before glancing at her. "Dinner with your dad."

"Go on."

"From the looks of it, he seemed disappointed that you're dating an old-"

"Don't you dare say it."

"Well, it's true, isn't it?"

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. "We talked about this," she whispered. "The reason I wanted to introduce you to him is that I want to show him how happy I am," she continued before placing her hand on his cheek. "Besides, dad has always been a bit sceptical of people in general."

He kissed her hand. "I love you, Clara, and I just want him to approve of us."

She couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "My old-fashioned detective," she whispered. "I'm sure he'll come around at some point."

"Just want to make sure you're just as happy as I am."

Clara buried her face in his chest. "Trust me, John Smith, you have no idea," she murmured, looking up. "So stop worrying so much will you?"

As much as he wanted to forget about it, he couldn't. There was just something about Dave that seemed off to him.

He bent down and gave her a kiss. "Yes, boss."

"Did you know?" Dave asked calmly, holding the cigar to his lips with one hand while the other held the phone to his ear.

"Yes," Dylan admitted.

"How long?"

The DCI hesitated for a moment. "More or less five months," he replied, expecting his boss to blow up anytime soon.

Dave guessed that Pink knew as well but never told him because Clara had her fingers wrapped around him. At this point, he was sure everyone knew but him. "I want everything on John Smith," he demanded. "Every little detail, hell, even his school records if you find them," he said through gritted teeth.

"With all due respect, Dave, I think you're over-reacting," Dylan pointed out.

Dave tried his best to control his temper, exhaling through his nose and trying his best not to smash his phone. "Do you even realise what is at stake here?"

"Yes, but, if Clara is careful as she's been before, Smith won't find out anything you don't want him to."

"How the fuck did they end up together?" Dave snapped.

The detective maintained his composure. "I'm sure Clara has told you that."

"How do you know he's not an undercover agent using Clara to get to me?"

Dylan massaged his temple. "Everything on Smith checks out," he explained. "There isn't some sort of secret operation by Scotland Yard, Dave."

Dave took another puff of his cigar. "I want those records by tomorrow."

"Yes, boss."

Without another word, he hung up and tossed the phone aside, deep in thought. He glanced to his left and signalled one of his men to come to him. "Tell Pink to come to the club tomorrow night."

"Yes, sir."

Just as the man left, Dave's phone rang, and he lifted it slightly to check who was phoning him. Linda.

"How was dinner?"

"Fine," he sighed, knowing that she probably has something to say about Clara. "The boyfriend's a bit older than I expected."

"And that's what's upsetting you?"

Dave smiled. "Let's just say that I don't really have a good impression of him."

"Oh, please, can't be worse than that ex accidentally flashing everyone during Christmas dinner," Linda said. "Besides, it's her choice, so let her suffer the consequences if you think she's made the wrong decision."

"You know I care about my daughter," he snapped. "I would appreciate it if you could stop making stupid comments."

Linda sighed. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Dave murmured before ending the call.