A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far, they are much appreciated! They also give me a little inspiration for future chapters!

"Sam."

"Mm-hm."

Sam was seated at the kitchen table chewing the end of a pen as she read all the newspaper cuttings on the murder case Jo had saved for her. Jo had previously been seated opposite the blonde, but had become increasingly restless and had now taken to pacing the short length of the kitchen, much to Sam's annoyance. The blonde admitted to herself that Jo was frustrating her by striding back and forth, but given her situation she could understand her nerves, so chose not to mention it.

"Will you visit me?"

Sam moved her hand up to he mouth, removing her pen before giving Jo a puzzled look, "What?" Sam's eyes briefly hazed over before she blinked rapidly, regaining her focus.

"If they send me to prison. Will you visit me?" her voice was shaky, her strong façade finally beginning to slip, allowing Sam to momentarily see the frightened woman she truly was.

"They won't Jo. I won't let them send you to prison." Sam tried to keep her voice even, knowing she was giving Jo a promise she didn't know if she could keep.

"Please, Sam. Tell me you'll visit me if I do. I need to know you will." Her tone was desperate; the mask finally slipping as she showed Sam the fear she held so tightly, that she'd be alone.

"Of course I would Jo. If you were being sent to prison. But you're not." She tried to reassure the brunette without making her conscious of the fact that Sam could see her terror, knowing Jo wouldn't appreciate anything that could be considered sympathy or pity.

"But you will, if I do?"

"Yeah, of course I would." Sam gave her a brief supportive smile before returning to the article in front of her. She skimmed over the information once again, sighing as she found nothing new. Her thoughts returned briefly to Jo's anxiety. What if she really did get sent to prison? What if Sam couldn't prove her innocence and lost one of her closest friends because of it? The thought was too hard to bear, Jo's life lay in her hands now, and she couldn't find the information she needed to help.

The blonde wasn't aware that she'd began to cry until a tear hit the newspaper, startling her slightly. Pressing her sleeve onto the paper to remove the majority of the tearstain, she leant closer to the table, studying the photo she was attempting to dry. The picture showed Jo being led out the house by two officers, in the background she could just make out a figure she was certain she recognised. Not being able to see the photo clearly enough she resolved, deciding it couldn't be whom she thought it was.

Jo stopped briefly to fill the kettle before restarting her steady rhythm she'd worked her way into, pacing backwards and forwards, fitting the same number of steps into each length of the kitchen. Her gaze flicked to Sam for a second, taking her time to admire the blonde. She was seated very lazily at the table. One hand loosely clutching a coffee cup that was rested on the surface of the table, the other holding the middle of a pen, one end gripped between her front teeth. Her hair was pulled back into a scruffy ponytail, opening up her face, accentuating her features. As Jo's vision concentrated on the entire person, she noticed she was examining a photo on the paper.

"What is it? What have you found?"

"Oh, nothing." Sam sighed, not wanting to get Jo's hopes up when she couldn't be certain.

Jo gave in; knowing Sam was holding something back but not having the energy to argue with the one person willing to help her. She thought back to a few of the times that Sam had kept information from her before, and the ensuing rows. As much as she hated not knowing, she preferred that to falling out with the only person standing by her, knowing Sam would tell her if it were anything important. She caught Sam's eyes briefly, the brunette blushing slightly at being caught; Sam gave her another friendly smile before returning to the papers in front of her.

Sam thought back to her break in Paris. She could empathise slightly with Jo because of it. Obviously it was on a much smaller scale, but her own brush with the law gave her a small insight into how Jo was feeling, the nerves that must be overtaking every cell in her body. Feeling restless she got up from the table, instantly attracting the attention of Jo, the brunette's head spinning around suddenly.

"I think I might go down the police station, see if they've got anything new." She wasn't actually intending on going into the station, she just needed some time away from Jo for a bit. She couldn't bear to be in her company for too long, hating the fact she had to constantly lie in her reassurances.

Jo was quick off the mark, instantly picking up on this. "I thought they said they'd call if they had anything?"

"Yeah, but you know how it is. We didn't always call straight away if we were snowed under. I find you get the best results in person."

Jo wasn't entirely convinced, but wasn't about to openly challenge the blonde. Though she could put her to the test without Sam even knowing it if she was clever. "Yeah, you're right. Why don't I come with you?"

"Oh…um…I…um…no" Sam concluded, her mouth not connecting with her brain quick enough to formulate a believable reply.

"Oh. Okay, well, it was just a thought. I'll see you later then, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be back within the hour."

"Alright."

"Okay. See you later then." Sam terminated awkwardly, exiting the room at double speed. Throwing a smile back over her shoulder as she left.

"I need you to fax me a copy of a death certificate." Sam informed the woman on the other end of the phone. She sounded young to Sam, probably hadn't been working there that long.

"Is it a relative?" the receptionist asked, following the procedure she'd been taught the previous day, today only her second day of working there.

"No."

"Oh, I'm afraid you need to be a relative to view a death certificate."

Sam sighed, "I'm DI Nixon. I need to see a death certificate."

"Oh, um, yeah sure, who's certificate did you need?" the young woman wasn't sure if she was meant to allow police officers to see files, but she didn't want to get in trouble for not allowing her to.

Sam had returned to tapping her shoe on the ground, having been stood at the phone box for the past ten minutes while the receptionist had gone to find the certificate.

"I'm sorry, I can't find it. Are you certain he passed away?" the woman replied to the receiver, gaining a sigh from the woman on the other end.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"Well, you might need to check, because we hold copies of every death certificate dating back to the 1900s, so if he's dead, it should be here."

"Oh, okay, yeah I'll look into it. Thanks for your help." She ended the phone call, finally thinking she had something useful to help Jo with.

"Jo."

"Yeah."

"I've got to go back to London for a day or two."

"Oh, okay. Sure."

"I'm really sorry. Sun Hill obviously can't cope without me."

"What's happened?"

"Phil happened. He's managed to ruin a major drug investigation. It was my case so I need to go and salvage what I can of it."

"Oh right." Jo laughed slightly, "He always was hopeless."

"Yeah. He hasn't changed much since you left, don't worry!"

"No, I didn't imagine he would have."

"Yeah." Sam paused awkwardly, not sure what to say next. "Well, I should probably be getting off. Y'know, sooner I leave the sooner I get back an' all."

"Oh, you're going now?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Nah, it's not you're fault, I'll see you when you get back then."

"Yeah, course. Do you wanna borrow my car instead of getting the train?"

"Oh, I couldn't put you out like that."

"Nah, I'm not really gonna need it, am I?"

"Alright then. Thanks."

Jo slumped down into the kitchen chair as her car and Sam disappeared out of sight. She didn't quite believe that Sam was going back to London to rescue a case, but what else could she be doing? There was no other explanation; other than the fact she didn't want to be around Jo any longer.

It sounded stupid, but she'd got used to Sam being around, even though she'd only just left the house already felt empty.

She supposed she'd have to get used it though. Prison would probably be a lonely place, and that's where she was headed. As much as Sam had tried, she'd found nothing useful to clear Jo's name, she'd just have to accept it, she was going to prison.

Sam felt guilty lying to Jo. That was the last thing the brunette needed right now, but she didn't want to get her hopes up when she might be wrong.

She wasn't going back to save Phil Hunter, she'd had no contact from Sun Hill since she told them she'd be spending a few weeks with Jo. She was heading towards London for another reason, a reason she'd rather not share with Jo just yet.

Sam pulled up outside Somerset House. She'd been driving for five hours without stopping and any other day she'd return home first and have a lie down before doing anything, but this was her reason for coming back to London, and she wanted to get back to Jo as quickly as possible.

Hopping out the car, she strode into the building, stopping at the end of the queue, grateful there was only three people in front of her, she was never one for waiting long.

Sam stood lost her thoughts as she waited in the line. She wanted to find an answer to her question. why had she gone to Manchester the moment she found out about Jo? Though her attempts at solving it only seemed to bring up more questions. Now she was wondering would she have done that for someone else? Phil maybe, if he'd been the one to get in trouble? Was there any reason why she'd not even considered staying in London? Why she'd headed straight to Manchester? Was Jo just a friend? Did she fancy Jo? Whoa, that was a big leap Sam, let's not think about that one again, shall we?

"Next."

Sam snapped out of her mind, heading towards the reception desk. "DI Nixon." She said, flashing her warrant card, "I need to see a copy of a death certificate."

"Sure. Oh hang on a sec, are you the woman that phoned up yesterday evening?"

"Yes, that was me."

"You were looking for a death certificate we couldn't find. You're sure he's dead then?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay, well I'll have another look. Sorry, what was the name again?"

"George Masters."