Happy Hump Day! We're on the downward slope to weekend again already after today which in my book can only be a good thing! Thank you, as always to those reading and especially to the lovely people who regularly review this story: A for Antechinus, Sez01 and iheartsergeantsmith. Your words feed my muse so in return I send cyber-cookie mountains :)
Disclaimer: Yeah, nothing changed since last chapter. I still don't own any part of The Bill or its characters, nor do I claim to. I'm just giving them a little much needed exercise since their owners packed them away into storage crates.
"She's all yours Mr Turner, ready and waiting to be broken in but by all means, feel free not to do so gently," the bulky, sturdy-framed man advised a confused Stuart.
"When you said about getting my hands dirty, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he stalled, having no desire to do as he was instructed.
"If you're disappointed she's not a little boy, I suggest you turn her over and do it from behind. Or do we have a bigger problem here, Mr Turner? Do we need to question your loyalty and commitment to the cause?" Stuart's eyes widened as he understood what was being asked of him.
"No… no, it's just, I've never… on film… or with one so… young," he stammered.
"Then you're in for a real treat." Turning away from the reluctant younger man, Stuart's companion barked orders at his lackeys who were hovering nearby. "Suit him up, make sure he's not going to be recognised. This film needs to be ready to air by midnight."
"DNA is back on our two bodies," Kezia informed Sam and Phil as soon as they emerged from the DI's office. Her expression was grim, leading Sam to fear the worst.
"Do we have identification of them then now?" the DI asked sombrely.
"We do. It's as you first suspected; Zofia and Izabella Podowska. Which technically makes this part of the same case DI Manson is investigating, doesn't it?" Kezia asked nervously, not sure what their next move needed to be.
"Not necessarily. We have no proof that Katie Hart's disappearance is linked to the Podowski boy's abduction but we do know that his mother and sister have been brutally murdered and that once again Dawid is nowhere to be found. Let me take this to DCI Meadows and see what he says. I have a feeling he might like to liaise with the people who were supposed to be keeping this family safe," Sam advised, not wanting to glibly distract Neil and the team from their search for Katie unless it was absolutely necessary.
"And by liaise, what DI Nixon really means is tear them a new one!" Phil quipped. Angie fixed him with a disdainful glare making no attempt to hide her feelings about his distasteful humour.
"What do you want us to do in the meantime, Guv?" Angie asked, blatantly ignoring the interloper even as Kezia smirked along with him.
"Go back to the estate where they were found – take uniform for back up – canvas the neighbours and see if they remember seeing a little boy in the area on the day Izzy and Zofia were killed. Our priority, beyond finding their murderer, is making sure no further harm comes to that child. He's already seen too much suffering, too many deaths in his short life." Turning to her tactless temporary sergeant, she ordered, "Kezia, do we have the pathologist's report on cause of death yet?" Sam frowned as she received a shake of the head, frustrated but knowing that nothing would speed up the process. "I'd like you to concentrate on the Marks' robbery then for now. Go over phone records, chase Eddie for fingerprints, anything that can narrow down suspects. Phil, I want you to go with Angie and if I hear that you so much as think about making another tasteless remark like that, the only one getting a new one torn will be you. Are we clear?"
"Crystal, Guv," Phil replied, quirking an eyebrow in Kezia's direction as Sam turned her back and headed for the DCI's office.
Lorna strolled around the supermarket, picking out various items from the list she had scrawled whilst going through her cupboards at home. Certain other products found their way into her trolley as she moved on autopilot, products which her daughter insisted she buy whenever Lorna stocked up on groceries. It was only when she was reaching for Katie's favourite pizza in the frozen aisle that she consciously became aware of what she was doing. Her heart clenched in her chest and she felt tears prick at her eyes. Her hand jerked back as though it had been scalded but then with a steely determination of a true-born Scot, she grasped the pizza and tossed it onto the top of the rest of her shopping. Katie was coming home, she affirmed in her mind, and when she did, she would want her favourite food for dinner. Lorna swiped any offending lingering moisture from her eyes and continued on her meandering exploration of the supermarket, pointedly ignoring the impolite stares from those who had seen her violent reaction to the pizza.
Stuart groaned as he tried to straighten up, his stomach still roiling. He couldn't believe he'd let himself get into this position. No matter what he did, he was screwed. If he went through with what they were asking of him, he lowered himself to their level and there was no going back. If he refused, he had no doubt that they would dispose of him for what they viewed as a betrayal – trust was not a commodity in ready supply.
"Never pegged you as someone who'd get performance anxiety," one of the lackey's smirked, clapping Stuart on the back. "Always happens to the cocky ones first time on film but don't worry, we'll make sure no one knows it's you. Suck it up, boss man's getting antsy down there and I'm sure you know he's not one to be kept waiting."
Stuart reluctantly followed the hulking figure sent to fetch him, furtively glancing around as though help would appear out of thin air. Resigned to his fate, he trudged into the sound-proofed cellar like a condemned man approaching the gallows. His hands trembled and his heart raced as the black leather hood was fitted over his head and fastened tightly. Small holes were cut into the unforgiving fabric for his eyes with three slits lining up with his mouth and nose to enable him to breathe and see sufficiently to navigate the room where his unsuspecting victim sat playing with toys in a mocked up bedroom. There were camera hidden at various angles within the room, enabling a full 360 degree view. Once he was inside, there would be no hiding his actions, no mimicking the acts he was expected to perform on a little girl who looked to be no older than seven or eight years of age. He had to make his choice, he had to decide if his life was worth ruining the innocence of another and time was running out for him to make that decision.
"I swear to God, he is the most ignorant, chauvinistic, irritating imbecile I have ever had to work with!" Angie fumed as she marched into DI Nixon's office, not bothering to request entry beforehand.
"DC Walker?" Sam queried, startled by the sudden entrance and the vehemence in the dark-skinned woman's statement.
"DS Hunter, Guv. He's a…"
Sam cut her off before she could say something she might live to regret, "…a senior officer and anything you say to me has to go on record so I suggest you pick your words carefully."
"He has spent all afternoon openly and actively trying to get me to agree to go on a date with him, even though I told him I was married and committed to my husband. I'm sorry Guv, I appreciate that I'm new here and that you're all used to working with him, but if he insists on continuing, I'll have no choice but to report him. I won't tolerate that kind of behaviour just because I'm a woman." The DI groaned and dropped her head to the desk in exasperation. She had hoped that Phil would have grown up during his time away from Sun Hill but it appeared that he had instead regressed to an earlier, less pleasant version of himself.
"Leave him to me, Angie. I'm sorry you've had such a bad first impression of him, honestly he isn't always like that. His humour can be crude and tactless and he has always had an eye for the ladies but he is a good copper. We're lucky to have him filling in for Stuart and once I've laid the law down to him, hopefully you'll have chance to see that side of him too. If not, I'm not above saddling him with the grunt work and keeping him out of your hair until he learns to behave himself. Phillip is a bit like a puppy – when he first meets someone new, he's over-exuberant and attention seeking." Sam waited for the DC to visibly calm herself before enquiring if they had found any pertinent information from the neighbours on the estate, mentally already strangling Hunter for his less than graceful arrival at Sun Hill. Less than a day in and already, the ranks were threatening mutiny. That had to be a record, even for him.
Phil knocked on the office door, waiting to be invited in before entering. "You summoned me, Guv?"
"Take a seat," Sam instructed, her tone brusque belying their usual friendship.
"I take it DC Walker has been to see you," Phil guessed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "Seriously, Sam, you know me. I might like to flirt a bit and have a bit of banter with the ladies but only once I know how the land lies. I'm not an idiot."
"And yet you seem to know why she came to see me," Sam posed, levelling an icy glare at the wayward sergeant.
"Of course I do, she told me precisely what she was planning on saying to you to discredit me. Don't ask me why but she has her knickers in a twist about me being here, started in as soon as we were in the car on the way to the estate. Pitching into me about how she had heard of me, my reputation, that I used to be your right hand man but that things were different now. She said she'd do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say to keep me on the fringe of investigations. You ask me, she's a few sandwiches short of a picnic that one! Where'd she crawl out of anyway?"
Sam's fears were pricked once again, the nature of the investigation which had triggered the need for additional cover forcing her to view everyone with suspicion. "Never mind that, that's not important. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't repeatedly try to chat her up, not even in a joking manner."
"Sam, I swear to God, I wouldn't, not with her… she wasn't my type even before she opened her mouth! I mean, really, that hair? It's just not right." Sam's stony expression forestalled any further jesting. "I never said one word to her that could be classed as inappropriate, I barely spoke to her at all beyond giving her directions to the estate. I couldn't get a word in, she was doing all the talking. Ask Beth and Leon, they were with us the whole time."
Sam took a few moments to take in Phil's earnest face, noting the way he held her stare without wavering. With a small frown and a sigh, she sat back in her chair and dismissed him, more confused than ever. She wondered if there was any way she could speak to Angie's previous colleagues, off the record, to find out more about the woman, beginning to wonder if they had been too trusting with their temporary DC.
Sam walked up to the now familiar front door, her limbs dragging wearily in her fatigued state. She wanted to be energetic and at least semi-conscious whilst spending time with Lorna but her body appeared to be staging a mutiny against any such plans. Her eyelids felt like there were lead weights attached to them and she was concerned to realise how little of the journey home she could recall, knowing that she had driven on autopilot for the majority of it. As she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open to reveal her lover, who had apparently seen her arrive and was waiting for her, literally with open arms. Never more grateful for such a welcoming sight, Sam fell into the embrace, allowing Lorna to hold her upright and manoeuvre them through into the lounge where a roaring fire burned.
"You're out on your feet. Let's just sit here for a while with the fire and you can rest your eyes," the Scot encouraged, easing Sam down into the welcoming cushions of the sofa, sinking in next to her and pulling the shorter woman's head onto her shoulder, wrapping her up once again in her arms and dropping a tender kiss on her crown before laying a cheek against the top of her head.
"I wanted so much tonight to be able to do as we suggested earlier," Sam grumbled, fighting the almost crushing need for sleep.
"Don't worry about that now, love. You just listen to what your body's telling you and get some rest. There's plenty of time for us to explore the physical side of this when we're both fully awake, alert and able to enjoy it. For now, this is perfect: I get to hold you and know that you're safe here, with me," Lorna reassured, her voice softening to a whisper as she felt Sam's weight settling against her more heavily. She hummed quietly, a meandering tune, allowing it to lull the blonde ever closer to the edge of the abyss, soothing a hand through soft strands of hair and letting her own eyes drift shut as they basked together in the glow of the warm fire. Just as she too was about to slip into a deep sleep, Lorna was aware of an arm wrapping itself across her abdomen, hugging her tightly. She lost the battle for consciousness with a slight smile tugging at her lips and a gently murmured, "I love you, Sam."
"Are you sure that covers everything? Every time he's brushed against you suggestively, every chance he's taken to insert sexual innuendos into your conversations, every instance he has made you feel uncomfortable with his behaviour or language?" Jo asked, scanning the typed page filled with examples of Lucy's boss, Derek's, harassment.
"I think so and if not everything, it certainly should be enough to build a case against him that is difficult to ignore. I'll speak to James in the morning and ask him to write a witness testimony to go with it as well." Lucy gently extracted the printed page from her lover's hands, placing it into an envelope in readiness to send to the Managing Director of her firm's parent company. She didn't seal it, intending to include a covering letter, explaining the circumstances around her current suspension as a way of introducing the remainder of the packages contents. She could only hope that Jo was right in her assertion that a higher manager would be inclined to deal with the allegations seriously and not simply pass them back to a lower level to handle.
"It'll be ok, sweetheart. Even if you don't return to work there, if you end up finding a new job somewhere, it might yet turn out to be a good move. Maybe you can get something somewhere you're actually appreciated for all the hours you put in, the extra effort you make to go above and beyond what's expected of you," Jo murmured softly, soothing a hand down the centre of her lover's back, knowing that she must be hurting and wanting to be as supportive as possible.
"I know and you're right. The world won't stop turning if I can't go back there but why should I be pushed out because of who I am? Because of who I love? Why should I be treated any differently than a straight woman or a heterosexual man simply because I won't hide the fact I'm in a relationship with a woman? I thought this was the 21st century and we were passed all this bigoted crap," Lucy ranted hotly, shoulders slumping in defeat at the acknowledgement of how much prejudice still existed despite the apparently more liberal attitudes.
"It is and this is just one person who can't hack the fact that you would rather cuddle up to me at night than him. Don't let him skew your perception of society as a whole and don't condemn the company you work for before they've had a chance to prove which side of the fence they're on." Jo winced slightly as she stretched her arm out, experiencing a tightness which caused her some discomfort, as though the skin was too tight. It didn't go unnoticed by her eagle-eyed partner.
"Listen to me whining about a stupid job to you of all people. What's the matter, babe? Are you in pain?" Lucy twisted in her seat until she was almost completely facing Jo, legs pressed tightly against the edge of the sofa, one arm propped along the back cushions as the other rested on her lover's knee.
"It's nothing major. They warned me I might get some swelling in my arm because of the lymph nodes they had to remove during the surgery. I'll speak to the doctor about it when I'm there later in the week." Jo passed it off, hoping the subject could be dropped.
"No you won't. We'll make an appointment to see the GP in the morning. If you don't want me there with you, that's fine, I know you don't need anyone holding your hand but I will insist on you going before you start your next rounds of chemo." Lucy fixed Jo with a steely, determined glare, daring her to deny that she would have kept putting off dealing with the fluid build up causing the discomfort in her arm. "Don't make me research it online and start spouting facts at you to get you to cooperate," she warned. Jo couldn't help but grin, knowing her zealous partner would do just that if needs be to ensure she took care of herself.
"Ok, I promise, I'll phone the surgery in the morning and try to get an appointment, or at least on the triage list. And I might not need someone holding my hand, but I would very much like it if you were there with me." Jo wrapped her good arm around the younger woman, gathering her in close and dropping a sweet kiss against her temple, nudging dark, unruly curls out of the way with her nose. "You're too good to me," she murmured reverently.
"There's no such thing as too good for you, honey. You're going to be my wife, nothing will ever be too much for as long as you'll have me around." Lucy nuzzled the soft skin of Jo's neck, teasing the older woman with feather-light kisses. Jo groaned. As much as she wanted to worship Lucy's luscious body, she knew physically she didn't have it in her. Her energy reserves were vastly depleted and the ache in her arm would prevent her from bearing weight on it or utilising it in a vigorous manner.
"Lucy…" she moaned, regretfully. With a heavy sigh and a pained expression, Jo pulled herself out of the embrace which threatened to morph from comforting to uncomfortably arousing. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I can't… I don't… I want to but I just don't think I can, not tonight."
"Is it because of him?" Lucy asked, lower lip trembling as the rejection hit her hard.
"What? No! God no, not at all. Honey, you are gorgeous and I really, really wish that I could whisk you off upstairs to bed and make love to you all night long… but I'm exhausted and this arm… I wouldn't be any good for you tonight, love and I'd rather we didn't get into anything than start something that I know I can't finish." Jo willed Lucy to hear the truth in what she said and not to retreat into a world of hurt and perceived rejection.
Further discussion was interrupted as the house phone began to ring. Jo glanced at the clock, noticing the lateness of the hour and knowing that whoever was on the other end would not be calling with good news. Phone conversations that took place after 11pm were never about anything positive in her experience. Her heart clenched as she thought of Sam's predicament and she snatched the receiver from the cradle, mentally offering up a prayer to anyone listening that she wasn't about to hear her friend had come to any harm.
"Is that Jo?" a man's voice enquired.
"It is," Jo responded, tone clipped and tight in her nervousness.
"Jo, it's Saira's husband, Tony. I'm sorry to call you so late but she made me promise to let you know when she… Saira died earlier this evening. I know she really appreciated you going to see her in the hospice…" His voice trailed off, choked with the emotion of losing his wife.
"I'm so sorry," Jo gasped, feeling tears prick at her own eyes. "Your wife was an incredible and inspirational woman. I may only have known her for a few short weeks but she taught me so much about life, about myself, about grabbing the opportunities that come our way and not letting them pass us by. I know it sounds glib but really, if there's anything I can to help, any arrangements I can make to take some of the pressure off you, please just let me know." Lucy, having grasped the gist of the conversation, crossed to her lover's side from where she had retreated, wrapping an arm around Jo's waist and offering her silent support.
"Saira made a lot of the arrangements herself, she said it was one of the perks of knowing she was dying – she could make sure she got her own way even at her funeral." Tony's brief laughter was forced, an attempt at stoicism. He felt foolish for being so devastated, having known it was inevitable but still not having made his peace with losing the woman he loved.
"Would you…umm… Would you mind if I attended the service?" Jo asked, leaning against her fiancée more heavily as she absorbed the information.
"Of course not. Saira would like that, she was always good at making friends wherever she went. I'll let you know the details when I've finalised arrangements." Tony hurriedly ended the call, obviously needing to grieve and not wanting to breakdown on the phone to a woman he didn't know. Jo's whole body sagged as she put the receiver back in its cradle. She sank into the nearest chair, head dropping into her hands as her brain struggled to deal with all the emotional ramifications of Saira's death. Lucy silently perched on the chair arm, offering a gentle, soothing massage of her distraught lover's shoulders. The young brunette too was battling to contain her own emotions, fearful of adding extra pressure to Jo's burden but the news had lit a fire under her own fears for Jo's future and what that mean for them both.
"I should do that too," Jo croaked at length, her words muffled by the hands still over her face.
"What's that honey? What do you need to do?" Lucy asked softly, unable to entirely mask the fragile emotions in her voice.
"I should start to look into making arrangements…just in case I don't beat this. I don't want you to have to deal with everything once I'm gone, not from scratch. I'll make some enquiries, get something pre-planned," Jo explained, casting a brief sideways glance at her partner before rising from her seat and climbing the stairs. Lucy let her go, waiting until she heard the bathroom door click shut before she gave in to her overwhelming need to cry. She wanted to scream and shout about the injustices they faced, wondering what either of them had done in a former life to experience such cruel and unusual torture in this one. She slid into the chair Jo had recently vacated, curling herself into a ball and sobbing her heart out as events and circumstances took their toll on her.
Upstairs, in the bathroom, Jo sat on the loo, gazing into the middle distance, mind racing. She had brief flashes of thoughts to end it now, to simply spare Lucy any further pain and suffering but fortunately the more rational part of her brain tamped down on such ideas, knowing it would only cause additional anguish to those who cared for her. Instead, she focused on what Saira had said to her, about not wasting a single day waiting for the perfect opportunity to come along. She would lay out plans for what type of service she would prefer but it would be as a failsafe only, in case the worst should happen. Once that was done, she decided she would draw up another list, a list of all the things she wanted to do and see before she died as a way to keep the fight alive in her, no matter how dark the days became or how low her mood sunk. And top of that list would be marrying Lucy in a service fitting for the wonderful partner that she had proven herself to be. It suddenly seemed of utmost importance to Jo that they discuss the wedding in greater detail. She bolted upright, unlocking the door and dashing back down the stairs, skidding into the lounge and dropping to her knees in front of her distraught fiancée. Lucy's head snapped up at the sudden intrusion, her face a mask of tears and panic as she feared another blow.
"What is it?" she cried, trying to simultaneously unfurl herself and reach for the older woman.
Jo crowded in, keeping Lucy pinned in the seat in her almost foetal position and wrapping her arms around the bundled form. "I love you. I love you and I don't intend on dying or going anywhere, no matter what this wretched disease thinks. I want to give you the wedding you dream of, the wedding you deserve and I'd like to give it to you as soon as we can arrange it, not because I don't think I'll be healthy enough to do it further down the line but because I can think of nothing I want more than to show the world what you mean to me. 'Til death us do part will have to wait a very long time if I have my way. I can't lose you, that would kill me far quicker than any cancer could. So how about we get a good night's sleep and tomorrow, we sit down, together, and talk about planning a wedding? You think that would be a fair use of this impromptu time off you've been given?" The brunette cupped her young fiancée's face, stroking gentle thumbs across tear-streaked cheeks. Leaning in, she ignored her own discomfort and pressed a tender, almost chaste kiss against Lucy's lips. "I love you so much and I will be honoured to stand up in front of our family and friends to celebrate that love with you."
"Oh Jo," Lucy gasped, overcome with the whirlwind of emotions as she was swept from the depths of despair to the heights of elation in a matter of mere seconds. "I can't think of a better way to spend this time off than planning our wedding." Tears rimmed both women's eyes as they gazed at one another adoringly.
"I want to make a list of all the things I want to do and see before I die, whether it be next week, next month, next year or in forty years time. I figure it'll give me even more incentive to fight to live...although I have to say waking up next to you each morning is really the only incentive I'll ever need. I'll never have enough of you and if I ever look like I'm taking you for granted, you have my permission to smack me round the head with the nearest heavy object. The first thing I intend on ticking off my bucket list is marrying you. The second will be taking you on honeymoon, wherever you want to go, somewhere we can be together, just the two of us without any interruptions from work or anything else." Jo smiled serenely at Lucy as she imagined such a setting, of being able to devote all her time and attention to her soon-to-be-wife.
"That sounds perfect…even if the honeymoon has to wait until your fit enough to travel, I won't care. I'll wait for as long as it takes because I know when we do go, it will be the first of many amazing, memorable and special holidays we'll take together. For right now though, the only trip I really want to make with you is up the stairs to our bed so I can hold you close all night and dream of our future, a long and blissfully happy future together."