For those who are still following, thank you very much for your patience and for your encouraging words. Sorry it took me a while again.

Chapter 20 : A Brave Referee

Harry took the exit, and steered the car skilfully into the busy London traffic. "So, at which of your girlfriends shall I drop you off?" She asked, referring to Spikings' words.

"My one and only." Dempsey said with a mysterious smile.

"What's her address?"

"Camberwell Grove. You know where that is?"

"I believe I do." Harry answered thoughtfully. "She knows you're planning to stay with her?"

"Nope. It's a surprise."

"Oh dear. You think she'll be happy with it?"

"Yeah, I'm sure she will. She loves having me around."

"I bet she does. Question is, what will Spikings think of it?"

"He doesn't have to know."

She frowned. "What are you going to tell him about where he can reach you?"

"Nuthin'. Just that you know where to reach me. My private life is none of his business." His face twisted in pain after a bump on the road. "By the way, I saw you talking to Hargreaves. She said anything 'bout us?"

"No."

"See, I told you she didn't hear anything."

"I'm not sure." Harry had her doubts. "I had the feeling she wanted to tell me something, but she stopped when she saw you coming our way."

"Nah. If she heard something, she would've told Watson. He didn't mention anything to me. I think we're in the clear."

"Home sweet home!" Harry put her keys on the hallway table as she entered her house, Dempsey following her closely. Immediately, she threw open some windows to ventilate the place. "Why don't you take some rest while I make us something to eat?"

"No need to put yourself out. I'm not that hungry anyway." Dempsey answered tiredly. He shrugged off his jacket, and dropped it on one of chairs in the living room. He heard her rummage through some cabinets in the kitchen.

"I'm afraid there's not much choice. I'll cook us some pasta. Fortunately, I always have some pasta sauce in the freezer. It won't take long."

"Whatever, babe. It's all fine by me." He joined her in the kitchen. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, you could lie down on the couch. You look terrible." Harry took a glass and filled it with water.

"Gee, thanks. You sure know how to make a guy feel better."

She handed him the glass and a painkiller, which he accepted without objection. Shaking her head, she watched him make his way back to the living room. Right, now the pasta.

As promised, the meal was ready in no time. Dempsey felt much better after eating something. Only then he realised he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. After all, everyone had expected the case to be resolved by noon. No one could've predicted the planned ambush would turn into a kidnapping and hostage situation.

After a quick shower, Dempsey installed himself in front of the television. Harry, on the other hand, chose to take a long, relaxing bath. From experience he knew it helped her to get over the emotions of the day. After more than an hour, just when he was about to go look for her, she made her appearance in the living room.

"Woow!" he whistled between his teeth, while his eyes wandered appraisingly up and down her body. Her dressing gown was rather short, its thin fabric following the curves of her slim figure. She looked so beautiful it took his breath away. It would be their first night in her home as a real couple, and he didn't want to fail her. If only those damn ribs didn't hurt so much. Maybe a couple of painkillers would do the trick?

Ignoring his gaze, she walked past him to pour them a glass of wine. It wasn't until she handed him his glass, that he noticed the troubled look in her eyes. Without a word, she nestled into his arm, carefully not to touch his sore ribs.

"Enjoyed your bath?" he asked.

"Yes, it was very nice, thank you."

His hand stroked her hair. "What's wrong, princess?"

Her head against his shoulder, she stared straight ahead. "Every time I close my eyes, I relive everything that's happened today."

"I can imagine it must've been scary, being in the hands of that creep." He pulled her closer and placed a kiss on her damp hair. "Don't worry, you're safe now."

"That wasn't the worst part." Her voice merely a whisper.

He was fully alert now. His muscles tensed at the thought of what that creep might have done to her. "Did he hurt you?"

It was as if she hadn't heard him. As if in a trance, she continued. "I heard the shots and saw you fall to the ground. I thought you were dead! And Chas held me back…"

"Good thing he stopped you!" Dempsey rubbed her arm. "I had to convince those gunmen. Sorry I scared you."

"I know that and I don't blame you. It's just, I can't shake off that image. Like with Crazy Joe." She shook her head. "I don't want to see you die, James. And not just because it ain't a pleasant sight." She quoted him.

Sighing, he remembered his blunt reply. "I admit, that was a stupid thing to say. What can I tell you? I'm a moron. Are you ever gonna let me live that down?"

She let out a weak chuckle. "Maybe… one day." Everything in her behaviour betrayed she already had, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to remind him occasionally.

They were silent for a while, both absorbed in their own thoughts. In the background the sounds of a fake gunfight, but neither of them paid any attention to what was happening on the screen. Then Dempsey's deep voice, softer than she was used to. "I was terrified when you were in the hands of that lunatic. All I could think about, was how to get you outta there. Good thing Spikings was there to stop me, or I would've gotten us both killed." To lighten the mood, he added. "Ya know, I underestimated the ol' man. He still has a lot of strength for his age."

His remark brought about a faint smile on her lips. "Don't let Spikings hear you call him 'old'." To become serious again the moment after. "I guess that's how it's going to be from now on, isn't it?"

"What d'you mean?"

"The fear that one of us might get hurt." She clarified. "Maybe we ought to consider making a career change."

Shocked, he looked at her. Shit, there he had that déjà vu feeling again. He remembered having had a similar discussion a few years ago. Only he hadn't expected it this time. Not with Harry!

"I'm a cop, Harry. This ain't just a job for me, it's what I am! It's the only thing I'm good at. You, of all people, should know that. I mean, can you imagine me, sitting behind a desk all day? I'd go nuts!"

"I know…" She acknowledged, thinking back to his -often successful- attempts to get away from doing desk work, and of the numerous times Spikings made him rewrite his reports.

For a moment, Dempsey hesitated. "Look, I know I asked you to come back to SI10, but on closer inspection, those dinosaurs in the museum look pretty harmless. Maybe you should…"

She searched his eyes to see if he was joking. "You're unbelievable, you know that! First you beg me to come back to SI10, and now you want me to keep working at the museum? I don't think so, James! Either we both leave, or we both stay! Who else would be looking after you, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It's not the same as with you, but I got along pretty well with Watson during your absence…"

"Ha, I've heard all about it! Tell me, was he supposed to stop you from taking unnecessary risks, or to encourage you even more?" It was a rhetorical question. "You know, it really scares me to see you in action sometimes, but I've experienced that not knowing what you're doing, is far worse. For my own peace of mind, I think it's better for me to stay at your side."

"Harry…"

Her forefinger on his lips silenced him. "I guess that's settled then. Let's go to bed now. I'm exhausted, and you look like you could use some sleep too." Leaving him no room for further discussion, she rose from the couch and offered him her hand to help him get up. "Oh, and no funny business! Not with those bruised ribs."

"Aw, Harry. My lips aren't bruised, ya know." He pouted.

She glared at him. "Yet."

Harry focused on finding the right words as her forefingers hit the keys on the typewriter. She tried hard to stick to the facts and leave her emotions aside. To no avail. Her thoughts constantly wandered off to that one moment. That one moment, when she felt the earth slip from under her feet.

"Damn!" She hit the wrong key again. For the umpteenth time that morning! She yanked the sheet of paper out of the typewriter, crumpled it into a small ball, and threw it into the paper basket. A new sheet of paper, a new attempt. She only had a few hours left, and there was barely anything on paper yet. Never before had it taken her so long to write a bloody report!

Alright, here we go again. She was glad it was quiet in the office, as most of the detectives were out working on cases. At least, it was quiet... until the door opened and she heard a familiar voice greeting the few remaining colleagues, in his usual exuberant way. Looking up from the typewriter, she saw Dempsey coming in her direction. She rolled her eyes. Bye bye, concentration!

"What are you doing here?" she asked when he passed her on the way to his desk. "Shouldn't you be at home, resting?"

"Resting, resting. I ain't sick, Harry. I'll get enough rest when I'm…" The horrified look on her face stopped him from finishing his sentence. "Never mind."

"How did you get here?"

"By bus, since I ain't got a new car yet," he sulked. "It would've been a lot easier if you picked me up this morning."

Harry raised her eyebrows at the accusatory tone. "I beg your pardon? It would have been a lot easier if you stayed at your girlfriend's place, like you were supposed to!"

He shrugged. "Yeah well, she was due back at work. And I wanted to hear if you guys had any news."

"Ever heard of a phone, Dempsey? One of the greatest inventions of the past century. All you have to do is pick up the receiver and dial my number. There was really no need for you to come all the way here."

"Maybe I wanted to see your cute face," he quipped.

At that moment, the door of Spiking's office flew open. Standing in the doorway, the boss let his gaze wander through the office. Until his eyes rested on Dempsey. "Lieutenant, I thought I recognized your voice. Couldn't stay away, could you?" the Chief smirked. "In my office, please. You too, Sergeant."

"What's up, boss?" Dempsey asked as soon as he set foot in the boss's office, curious to hear what they'd found out.

Spikings motioned him towards a seat and handed him a folder. "Information we received from the NYPD about the sniper, based on his fingerprints. He turns out to be quite a catch." The Chief informed proudly. "William R. Slater, age 46, nickname 'The Ghost', as he always operates from long distance. Military background, excellent sniper. He served in Vietnam, but came back severely traumatized. Left the army, and started working on commission. He's wanted on suspicion of various murders all over the US. Never got caught so far."

The boss saw Dempsey browse the folder, searching for something. "Different time and platoon as yours, so it is unlikely you met him back there."

Surprised, Dempsey looked up. "You checked me out?" The idea that his boss had been snooping around in his past behind his back, made him feel ill at ease.

"I had you screened the day I heard you were to join my team, Leftenant." The Chief answered without any scruples. "I requested a complete background check of this Mr. Slater, to see if there was a link with you." Studying his subordinate's reaction, he continued. "There's none, as far as I was able to verify. "

"And the other guy? What did you found out 'bout him?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid. Strangely, our overseas colleagues haven't been able to find a match on his fingerprints in their database."

Dempsey threw back the folder on the boss's desk. "C'mon, that's impossible. Anyone could see the guy's no rookie! He must have a criminal record!" A deep frown creased his forehead. This started to smell like a cover-up. "What 'bout the interrogation? He said anything?"

"Not a word. He's just sitting there with a smug grin, taunting us. But we're not giving up!" Spikings announced belligerently.

"Gimme twenty minutes alone with him and he'll tell us his entire life story, even the raunchy details if you like." Dempsey proposed.

"Out of the question, Dempsey." Spikings replied in an even tone. "I wouldn't want our friend to go free because he's been ill-treated during interrogation."

"C'mon, Chief, I know how far I can go. If anyone can make him talk, it's me. He failed twice to kill me. Now his accomplice's dead and he's in jail. I bet he's pissed at me. I can rub some salt in the wound, ya know, make him lose control."

"That is, if you don't lose control first." Spikings threw back, fully aware of his subordinate's temper.

"I can see to it that the Lieutenant doesn't overstep the mark, Sir." Harry jumped in to help her partner.

"You, as a referee between those two Yankee hotheads? I don't think so, Sergeant."

"I've learned to deal with one of those hotheads, Sir. I'm sure I can handle two."

Her self-assurance made the Chief Superintendent doubt. If anyone had proven to be able to handle their brash maverick, it was Sergeant Makepeace. Rubbing his chin, the boss studied the two detectives in front of him. He didn't like the idea of the frail but brave Sergeant alone in a small interrogation room with the two Yanks. However, after a whole day fruitlessly trying to interrogate the man in custody, the offer was tempting.

"Alright, you two can give it a try. Mind you, I'll be following the interrogation in the adjacent room. And remember, Lieutenant…" The boss raised his forefinger. "You only get one chance. Don't blow it!"

"You can count on me, Boss." With these words, Dempsey stood up and headed for the door, followed by Makepeace. He could hardly wait to finally face his attacker up close. Willingly or unwillingly, that man owed him some answers!

"One more thing, Dempsey." Spikings called after him, as both detectives were about to leave his office.

Dempsey turned around, door handle in his hand. "Yeah?"

"I had a phone call from your Captain O'Grady this morning. He seemed quite concerned about your safety here. I understand he made you an offer, but you turned it down?"

"I thought it was rather premature, since we're still busy interrogating our prisoner."

"Hmm." Spikings nodded thoughtfully. "Let's hope you can get some satisfying answers soon, Lieutenant. Off you go."

"What was that all about?" Harry asked her partner, on their way to the interrogation room. "What offer did you turn down?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, Princess. Let's focus on getting our friend to talk, shall we?"

"No, we won't! Not before I know what's going on here!" She grabbed his arm to stop him. "Damn it, Dempsey, stop keeping things from me! I'm your partner, I'm entitled to know the truth!"

He let out a deep sigh. He recognized that determined look in her eyes. She wouldn't let go before she knew everything. "Alright, if you really want to know. O'Grady wants to have me transferred to some other place, until after Coltrane's trial. Even though we're not sure whether Coltrane's involved, but the Captain doesn't wanna take any chances."

"Oh, God!" Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Where would he send you?"

"Dunno. Didn't ask, cause I wasn't planning to leave. Not before I had the chance to talk to this Mr. Smith, or whatever his name is."

Harry nodded. I don't want you to leave either, she wanted to cry out. But on the other hand, if his life was still in danger… "I'll help you in any way I can. I have to warn you though, we couldn't make him talk so far. He's a tough guy. Any idea how to handle this?"

"I've made some inquiries, and I may have found something to get his attention. But I'm gonna need your help."

"Sure. What do you want me to do?"

"Let me lead the interrogation, and keep everyone out of that room. No matter what happens."

"Now, hold on a minute! What are you up to? You're not going to do anything unlawful, are you?" Harry asked shocked. It wouldn't be the first time her partner crossed that line during an interrogation.

"Course not. You know me."

"Exactly!"

"Hey, thanks for the faith in me, partner. Don't worry, I'm just gonna provoke him. Ya know, make him lose control. Trust me, Harry. I know what I'm doing."

She was far from convinced. "And what if he attacks you again? He already tried to kill you twice, remember?"

"Believe me, I haven't forgotten." Grimacing, Dempsey rubbed his sore ribs. "Difference is, he ain't armed this time. I'll wipe the floor with him, if he makes one wrong move."

She rolled her eyes. "Macho!" She didn't quite know whether it was his broad smile or his reassuring wink, that convinced her. Fact is, she gave in. Again. As so many times before.

No more than two minutes later, they stood in front of the interrogation room. Dempsey turned to look at her for confirmation, as if asking 'Ready, partner?'

She responded with a single nod, albeit somewhat hesitantly. His face turned hard as he opened the door…

(TBC)