Rebecca stretched out languidly, pushing her her hair away from her face, sleepily. It was the one day of the week that her shop was closed, so she could afford to lounge in bed for a little while. During the night sometime she must have thrown the covers off because they lay in a tangled pile at the end of her bed. The room was still warm, even though she was clad only in a tank top and panties. An early morning breeze danced through the open window, bringing with it the scent of distant waves; briny and fresh. She rubbed her eyes. She had slept deeply, peacefully. And she had dreamed again.

Another one of those dreams.

She smiled indulgently.

It had been five days since she had seen Alec. Five days since their date. Five days since that kiss. That amazingly mind-blowing kiss. Although they had spoken briefly on the phone every night since then, they hadn't been able to see each other. Which was okay. She understood the incredible strain he was under with the murder investigation. The small fissures in the underlying social structure of the town were beginning to spread wider and deeper the longer the murderer roamed free. Family members and neighbors alike had caught the beginnings of paranoia; everyone suspected everyone of things they would normally never do. Just yesterday it had come out about the affair Becca Fisher had been carrying on with Mark Latimer. She couldn't even imagine what poor Beth must be going through. She could see how a tragedy like the murder of a beloved young boy could turn a town around on its head, make people question things they had normally taken for granted.

The lead that had called Alec away from her side that night had ended up being a dead end. He couldn't say much to her during their phone conversations, but she could tell he was tired and very frustrated with the way things had been going with the case. The longer the investigation dragged on the worse Alec's health became. She could hear it in his voice. She had the feeling that she was one of the only people that cared about him, which just about broke her heart. So yesterday she had stopped by the station and left him some packets of her herbal tea. He hadn't been there, but Ellie was, and she spoke with her briefly, trying to keep things light despite the tense atmosphere in the station. On a whim she left a sticky note on Alec's computer, with a small doodle of a heart in the center. She knew it would irk him, but she was also hoping it would bring a smile, albeit grudgingly, to his face. Look what fools love makes of us, she thought. He'll be gruff and probably give me grief over it, but maybe just maybe it will make him smile. It was important to her, for him to smile. To be happy. Her thoughts paused for a moment, feeling warmth suddenly pour into her heart, for she hadn't before used that word in reference to Alec. Love, she said again to herself; and yes, there was the feeling, the word was like a swallow of brandy. This was heat, like a flame with a jewel held at its heart. And the jewel was a word; love. She laughed out loud. Love. It was nice to be in love.

Her smile faltered at the realization. How had this happened? They barely knew each other. How could she have such strong feelings for him already? They had a connection, a strong one, despite the small amount of time they had been acquainted. It should have scared the hell out of her, logically she knew it should. But it didn't. She should be running for the hills because of the intensity of her feelings. But she wouldn't. All she felt was exhilaration and the wild, promise of hope. It was ridiculous. What future did this relationship have? As soon as the case was solved he was going to leave Broadchurch, more likely than not. But even thoughts like that couldn't bring her down. She had met someone special. She felt alive for the first time in what felt like forever. And love, she was in love. She pressed her hand to her chest and the steady pulse of her heart made her giddy, almost breathless with happiness.

Her phone rang on the dresser next to the desk. Thinking it was Alec she answred without even glancing at the screen. "A very very good morning to you," she said with her eyes closed, a grin still plastered across her face.

"My, my," said a voice that was definately not Alec's, "someone is awfully chipper this morning. Care to enlighten me on the reason why?"

"Ollie!" Rebecca exclaimed. He was the last person she would have expected to hear from this early in the morning. Her and the young newspaper man had struck up a fast friendship when she had first moved to Broadchurch. They spent time together occasionally, going to see movies and to go to festivals and such, but it was rare for him to call her outright. He usually just stopped by to see her in the store. "No reason," she hedged playfully. "Just having a good morning, that's all."

"Uh-huh," he said, obviously not believing her. "Well I know you're friends with Jack Marshall, and I just wanted to let you you might want to steer clear of him for a few days."

"What?" she asked, completely perplexed. "Why?"

He hesitated a moment before continuing. "Look, you're my friend, so I wanted to tell you myself before you find out from someone else. I'm really not supposed to be saying anything at all."

"What is it, Ollie?" she asked, her heart pounding fearfully. "Is Jack alright? Did something happen to him?"

"Not exactly," he hedged.

She waited in silence for him to continue.

"He might be a prime suspect, Becks," he said softly. "It's come out that he...had an affair with one of his students. He used to be a teacher."

Rebecca sat riveted with shock. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't. Not Jack. "It can't be..." she whispered.

She heard Ollie sight on the other end of the phone. "No one has said that he's actually been the one to kill Danny, but that's going to be everyone's next assumption, I can gaurentee you that."

Rebecca spoke with him a few more minutes before hanging up. Suddenly chilly, she pulled the blankets back up around her and looked out the window. She knew realistically that someone from the town had most likely been the one to kill Danny. But she couldn't make herself believe that it was Jack. Despite Ollie's reccomendation that she stay away from Jack for a few days, she knew she had to go and speak with him. Pushing the covers aside she got out of bed and quickly began to get dressed.

...

After driving past the store and finding it closed she took the initiative and drove to hi small house. She had to knock three or four times to get him to answer the door and when he did she had to school herself not to react to his appearance. His hair was scraggly and unkempt and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't.

"What do you want?" he rasped wearily. "Come to poke fun of me? Say dirty things about me?"

Her heart went out to him. He looked like an old weathered bird, cornered by a predator. "Jack," she said softly. "I would never do that, I'm you're friend, remember?"

He looked at her for a moment before grunting his assent and opening the door all the way and letting her in. She had been in his house just once before, when she had first moved to town, and had to convince him she wasn't out to steal his customers when she opened her shop. She hoped she would be able to provide him with a sense of comfort once more.

He sat on his couch, staring ahead without saying anything.

"I'll make us some tea," she said feebly before heading to the small kitchen. When she came back he had his head in his hands. She carefully poured out two cups and set them on the coffee table. She sat in the chair across from him, and waited for him to speak.

When he finally did his voice was full of frustration and defeat. "It's not true. What they're saying about me. It's not true."

"I know it's not, Jack," Rebecca replied. "No one in their right mind would think that you could be responsible for Danny's death." Alec, she thought suddenly. I should have called Alec right away, before doing anything else. He would believe me.

"It's not just about that," he said quietly. "I'm sure you heard about the...rest of it too."

She shifted on the chair awkwardly. "Well..." she hedged.

"Well they've twisted it," he spat out angrily. "They twisted the facts and made their own version of it, which isn't true and it taints everything like an oil spill."

Startled by his vehemence, she replied, "Why don't you tell me what really happened, Jack?"

He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Everyone wants to think the worst of people, no matter what." Jack sighed. "Yes, I went to prison for sexual intercourse with a minor. But we were dating, she was one month away from turning sixteen. And when I got out of prison a year later, we got married. I...I loved her."

Rebecca smiled. "That's beautiful Jack," she said. "It really is."

He continued on as if he hadn't heard her. "We had a son. Everything was perfect. And then he died in a car crash when he was still a boy." He looked up at her, fresh anguish in his eyes. "So if I hug the boys in the Sea Brigade, it isn't because I'm a pervert. I just miss my son. I miss my little boy. I could no sooner harm a child than harm myself."

Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh god, Jack...I'm so...I'm so very sorry." She got up and walked around the coffee table, sitting next to him on the couch. She put her hand on his. "We can tell the police," she said reassuringly. "We can tell them the truth and then they'll leave you alone." She thought of Alec, of his warm and reassuring presence. "The police, they're good people. They'll listen to you Jack."

"It's not the police I'm worried about," he said grimly.

There was a sound of gravel crunching and slamming, like numerous car doors opening and closing.

"What on earth is that?" Rebecca asked, looking out the window.

"It's what I've been expecting," Jack said morosely. "They've come for me."

~*~ To be continued