For Whom the Bell Tolls

by neela

DISCONTINUED. All fates are interconnected, what affects one also affects others. When Tessa is threatened on her life before a trial and has to go into protection, it will change more than one life. StingersMC xover.

2. Chapter 2

Summary: All fates are interconnected, what affects one also affects others. When Tessa is threatened on her life before a trial and has to go into protection, it will change more than one life.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Don't own the books about Tessa Vance, which includes the characters. They all belong to Jennifer Rowe. Also, I do not own Stingers and its characters either – they belong to Channel 9 Network and Beyond Simpson Le Mesuire.

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For Whom the Bell Tolls

- The fates of all human beings are interconnected - whatever affects one of us affects us all.

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CHAPTER TWO

The houses all looked the same to Angie as the car sped lazily down the street, turning here and there in an effort to shake off any suspicious tail. Usually this dodging around would become boring in the long run, but with the man and woman in the back seat, Angie was following the environment around the car attentively. As Mac has said, there was no room for mistakes in this case. One mission and that was to keep the target alive and well until the judge's verdict resounded within the court house.

Whatever happens afterwards is their business, had lingered in Angie's mind after Mac's statement. The thought both infuriated her and made her acquiescent. In her opinion, the system of government needed a change, an update to fit today's society. It was ridiculous to only take responsibility of someone's life until they had done their part of the deal, like testifying, and then leave them to whatever wolves remaining on the outside.

Like marionettes. Or pawns. Easy to sacrifice, easy to juggle around, do their bid's will. These were one of the things Angie hated about her job, or more precisely the top of departments, the representatives in Parliament handling law enforcement. Like during the First World War. Generals sat nice and comfy behind the lines, ordering men several hundred miles away to stand up and run across barb wire, mines and under heavy enemy fire from trench to trench. Suicide attacks. Mass murders.

To Tessa Vance, meeting the wolves meant facing the wrath of John Gisbourne, which would probably be doubled now that she had escaped his talons at the air port. Angie was unsure whether he would be caught and tried for this attempted kidnapping case or not. She doubted any of the minions down at the station were spilling the beans. Probably didn't even know who their boss was.

She glanced over at Oscar who sat behind the wheel, eyes jumping from the road to the rear and side mirrors and back to the car's surroundings. His hands were grasping the wheel a little tight, making his knuckles whiten slightly. Neither of them enjoyed safe house duty. It involved even more uncertainty than being out in the field. No control of the situation, only resorting themselves to wait until something or nothing happened.

They had been given their brief only hours ago by their dark-haired boss who had just come back from a meeting with the Sydney detectives. The necessary information had been provided for them, updating them on the latest news, as to who were going to be in the cars, what equipment and items were available in the safe house, and the fact that their main target was pregnant and while she had a specific diet to follow setting standards to the meals, she would require escort to the doctor should problems arise.

The list of groceries had been attained from the woman's partner while she sat with the DA—everyone had wryly agreed normal safe house meals consisted of such things a pregnant woman should avoid—and the undercover constables had dropped by a shop before picking up the detectives at the station. Angie had to confess she had become more concerned now that there was a third party in the picture. If something happened to Tessa, it would have consequences for her child, an innocent bystander in this screwed-up case.

For a moment, she wondered how the father of the baby was taking all this, and if he too was in town. But Mac had not mentioned it, so Angie assumed the Sydney detective had not said anything either, or that the man had probably stayed at home. It also seemed her partner mostly did the talking for her.

Talk about knowing one another.

Angie threw a look at Oscar again before returning to stare at the houses streaming past in a blur. It reminded her of herself and Oscar, really. They knew one another so well they might as well finish each other's sentences.

Yet not doing anything about it.

Deciding not to tread on that particular subject today, Angie pushed it away from the front of her mind and concentrated on what lay ahead. When they came to the safe house she would check it out, making sure some suit back at the station had not gone bad on them and started a chain of events that would mess up this case. Mac had shared her assumptions and suspicions with them, explicitly telling them that she trusted no one beside the two of them (and the rest of the undercover unit), and that they better do so too. Not trust anyone that is, including Tessa Vance's partner, Steve Hayden. At least until he could prove them wrong. One never knew which one could have had a switch of loyalties.

"Don't take risks; don't trust anyone, especially the guards on the outside as they're easier to be influenced by someone on the outside of the house. Otherwise you can end up on the other end of a gun barrel."

Mac's exact words filtered back to her, reminding her of the heavy risk they were running with this operation. Gary Gisbourne's case was high-profile – if anything should happen in his favour, then it would be a swift, stealthy and massive attack against the safe house with a minimum or maximum of manslaughter.Angie saw Oscar too was marked by Mac's words, and though she wanted to throw the worst case scenarios off her shoulders in a shudder, she didn't allow herself to. She was a cop; she had to keep all possible situations open to keep the surprise from overwhelming her when or if they happened.

As the car took another turn, Angie drew herself out of her thoughts, tilting her head towards Oscar. "Anyone tailing us?" she asked seriously.

"I believe I've shook off any shadow many turns ago," he replied, checking the rear mirror again. He shook his head. "There's not a soul behind us."

Angie only let her muscles unclench slightly, but not fully. Even if there was no one there visibly, it didn't necessarily mean there was not someone there. They could be concealed from view but still following them, and Oscar knew this as much as her. He was trying to downplay the situation in front of the detectives, or more specifically the female.

While Tessa Vance had seemed like woman in control of her emotions and a bit hard on the outside after exposure to murders for years, she had seemed jumpy and scared whenever someone raised a finger. Not to say she was completely up-and-down emotionally—the woman had been like steel when down at the station and during the first half-hour in the car—but once the silence stretched on and her thoughts were given free way to roam she became distant and at the same time held on to her partner like if he was her life line. In this town, he probably was.

Angie put it off as being because of this whole situation; this was probably not a common picnic trip. Hell, this was unusual even to Angie, and she was in an unusual line of work. But she didn't hold anything against the woman. Quite the opposite actually, if Tessa had been an ice queen and not the least worried about her life and that of her child's, Angie would have been seriously worried. Showing distress was not something bad, it was a part of the human element and completely normal.

In comparison to heartless, murdering bastards who prey on other people's despair and death whenever there's something in it for them.

"We're closing in on the street now," Oscar informed loudly, including all four occupants of the car. Angie threw a furtive look across her shoulder to see Tessa had closed her eyes and laid her head on Steve's shoulders. His arm was around her shoulders protectively.

---

The car rolled onto the asphalted driveway, the artistic iron gate already pushed open, and Oscar shut the engine. He shifted in his seat to look at the couple in the back seat.

"You all right?" he asked while removing the seat belt. Angie did the same. In the back, Tessa's eyes were fluttering open and she smiled sheepishly when she realised all eyes were on her and the car stood still.

"Fine, thank you." Her voice was strong, her face resuming the professional mask she had attained at the station. All traces of distress and fear vanished from her features. Steve withdrew his arm as she moved to unbuckle her seat belt and got out of the car. The rest of them followed her example, stretching their legs after being seated for nearly an hour. It had been quite a few detours in order to rid themselves of any shadow.

Angie went first towards the door, gesturing for them to wait while she checked the house. She found her gun as she stepped up to the front door. Avoid risks, take no chances.

Already in the entryway she saw the signs of high security, with the several padlocks and strong bolts on the doorframe. From the entryway she came directly into the spacious living room, fully equipped with a sofa group and table with a TV set standing near the wall. A dining table for four stood farthest away, near the open doorway into a sufficiently up-to-date kitchen.

To her left as she entered was a stairway leading up to what she assumed were the bedrooms. Straight forward was a small hallway holding a small toilet, laundry room and a back door with equal security measures as the front door. She made sure it was locked and secure before ascending the stairs and searching through the medium-sized bathroom and three bedrooms, one master and two smaller.

Returning to the front door, she gave them the green light. Tessa came first, looking a little put off as her partner had just told her firmly he would take the suitcase. Angie's eyes widened a little as the woman passed her, and she stared out to the car where Steve was unloading a single suitcase from the boot.

Just one suitcase? What about him?

Angie took a second look as Oscar returned from closing the gate. Sure enough, only one suitcase trailed behind the dark-haired Sydney detective with the country accent. He gave her an easy smile as he entered, soon followed by Oscar carrying his and Angie's overnight bags and the shopping nets.

Don't speculate. Friends can share, right?
I haven't heard of many who have…
Leave it. Get the groceries. Put your mind on something else.

"I'll take those," Angie offered and took the shopping nets from Oscar, ignoring the questioned stare when he discovered her frown, and walked purposely into the kitchen. Unaware of someone following her, Angie startled a little when Tessa suddenly stood beside her.

"Need help?" Tessa gazed around the room which would be part of her home for the next week or so, one hand lying surreptitiously above the swell of her abdomen. "I'm not allowed to carry anything, so I might as well find some other light task to do." She smiled wryly, putting Angie at ease.

"Sure, no problem," Angie replied with a smile, pushing all assumptions and suspicions to the back of her mind. "You can start with those." She pointed at the nets standing close to the fridge. Tessa nodded, setting to the task meticulously. The nets were filled with vegetables, meat, bread and all other edible things appropriate for a mother-to-be. Not that the other three would take any damage for eating healthy. God knew Angie was a faithful customer at take-away shops.

The women worked in silence for a while until Angie spoke up. "So how's life as Homicide detective in Sydney? Busy, I'd say, at least according to the latest rates."

"You'd believe right," Tessa answered, smiling slightly. She looked more in control when the subject concerned her work; a workaholic perhaps? "We've had our hands full for quite a while now, at least up until the Gisbourne case." She quietened at the mention, almost looking like she was trapped in old memories until she shrugged it off and hunched her shoulders. Angie didn't press, knowing that if they were going to spend a while together, she should try and gain the woman's trust. She could tell Tessa was still wary of her and Oscar. Perhaps Mac's warning had come to her as well.

So instead of asking what presently lay at the front of her mind, Angie switched subjects. "Are you hungry? It's probably a bit early, but I could make dinner or something lighter if you'd like."

You sound like a nurse in a nursery home. 'Time for your pills, Mr Peterson. Be a dear and eat them all this time.'

Tessa had finished unloading the nets, now stuffing the plastic together in small balls and pushing it into the cupboard beneath the sink. "I don't know, can't say my appetite's been very great lately."

Angie nodded in understanding, leaning against the bench. "I've been there myself, threatened on my life before a trial, I mean. Not the best of experiences… But you should eat something, at least for the baby's sake." If Tessa was surprised Angie knew she didn't show it. Her face had only taken on a look of distance again as she stood and leaned on the doorframe.

Separating herself from the events of real life. Running away.
She's not running away from the problems. She's trying to cope.

Angie opened her mouth to say something again, if nothing else than to tell Tessa how she knew about the pregnancy and apologise for being so straight-forward, but Steve appeared in the doorway and saved her from covering the awkward silence.

He had removed his jacket, now only wearing a blue sweater over a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to show strong, slightly tanned underarms. His hand came up to rest comfortingly on Tessa's lower back. In response, she turned towards him, a small smile grazing her lips at his immediate concern.

Just like you and Oscar.
Not like me and Oscar. We don't touch like that.
You wish for it, though.

"Heard something about food, you hungry?" Steve asked. "It's been a few hours since that sandwich on the plane, and it wasn't big anyway. You could do with some food." If Tessa had any qualms about eating before, it had diminished as soon as her partner gave her a look which said as much that if she didn't eat, he would force-feed her. Angie smiled a little at the indignant frown Tessa put on her face.

"Okay," she agreed with a sigh, though glaring a little at the smug smile coming on Steve's face. "But nothing big or I won't be able to eat it all. Gods, by this process I'll look as big as a house before I've gotten to the seventh month."

"And you'll still look smashing," Steve retorted without batting an eye, earning a sceptical eyebrow before it all dissolved into a chuckle. Somehow, Angie felt this conversation had been played out before. There was a continuation in their voices, their motions.

Good old chaps, huh?
You've gotta find out where his loyalties lie. Perhaps ask her about it later, or let Oscar do the digging.

She smiled earnestly at the playful innuendo, despite the growing suspicion in the depth of her stomach. Feeling like the fifth wheel and wanting to air her uncertainties, she decided to leave them to it.

"I'll just go and see what Oscar's up to." They nodded to her, Tessa looking a little guilty. Maybe she felt Angie had been driven out of the kitchen by them and felt bad about it. Angie continued. "You go ahead and make yourself something to eat. I'll be back in a bit."

As she left them, the thought from earlier when watching the single suitcase trail by, came back to her. She turned half-way around to see Steve lead Tessa further into the kitchen, his hand still protectively on her lower back. They were chattering lowly, too low to be heard. But the air felt comfortable. Her brow furrowed.

If he's taking money from Gisbourne, he's a good actor.
For her sake, I hope he's not. They're so close. He's her anchor.
Take no risks. Get to the bottom of it before it's too late. No surprises.

Angie shook the thoughts out of her head and went in the general direction of her own partner.

---

After the light luncheon, Steve remained to wash the dishes while Tessa, persuaded by her partner, went upstairs for a short nap. Angie watched her go from her seat in the armchair where she was talking to Oscar. He sat opposite of her, also following the woman who excused herself with a weak smile and ascended the stairs with his eyes. Sharing a look, Angie stood up moments later and followed Tessa upstairs.

She had managed to corner Oscar earlier with her suspicions, and they had agreed on talking to Tessa about them for her opinion. And the sooner the better, even if it meant disrupting her nap.

The floorboards creaked slightly under her weight as she trod on soft rug down the small hall and stopped outside the master bedroom door. It was where Steve had brought the suitcase, Oscar said, so Angie assumed this was where Tessa was. She knocked lightly on the door.

"Tessa?" Angie asked softly through the closed door. "It's Angie—Constable Piper—can I come in?" There was a muffled reply from the other side, and she took it as an invitation and twisted the door knob.

Inside, the curtains had been drawn close, only a thin beam of light streaming through a gap and onto the fair-haired detective who had laid down on the double bed, eyes shut and one hand settled comfortingly on the now visible swell of her stomach. The knitted cardigan lay discarded on the end of the bed. It was slightly stuffy inside the room, but the window had been opened ajar to let in fresh air. Angie entered, closing the door carefully behind her.

Tessa's eyes opened half-way, her whole stature expressing her tiredness. Angie was almost sorry to breach the topic and probably upset her, but the longer she put it off the worse things would get if her suspicions were right. She stepped closer to the bed.

"Sorry to disturb you—I'd have done this later if I could—it's just that there's a few pressing matters I need to ask you about." Angie tried to give her best apologetic smile, surprising herself when she found she didn't need to fraud anything. It was a strange feeling to be honest about something…

Tessa nodded, looking a little gloomy before getting in control of her emotions and propping herself up against the headboard. "I'm guessing this has got something to do with what happened today?" Despite the obvious exhaustion, Tessa shook the pre-sleep fogginess off and peeked curiously at her.

"Sort of," said Angie, walking over to where Tessa had scooted over and given her room on the end of the bed. She sat down, meeting Tessa's eyes. "I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that. I gather you picked up on the warning from Detective Senior Sergeant Mackenzie during the meeting?"

How strange to refer to Mac that way.

A look of grim understanding crossed Tessa's features. She huddled together furtively, her mind straying off, probably to the mentioned scene, before looking up at Angie. "Yes, I did. Caught me a little off-guard. Didn't quite expect it, I'll admit." She held in whatever other words she wanted to utter.

Angie bobbed her head sympathetically. "It makes things more real. You're always aware that there are bad cops, but you never think twice about them before you're thrown into the mess yourself." Tessa didn't reply, just nodding distantly. Angie cleared her throat, dampening the ominous feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach when thinking of dirty cops.

"Well, the reason I came in here to talk, is that I need your view on something." She met Tessa's gaze again, suddenly nervous of her reaction to the suspicion Angie was about to bring fourth. "We both know there's not always a good telling on who's dirty and not. Sometimes they stick out like a fox in the hen yard, then other times they're like shadows at night. They're great disguisers and can be practically anyone. Your boss…someone in another division…a constable…the receptionist … It could even be your best pal," Angie ended, her voice drifting off in uneasy silence.

"You're thinking Steve's backstabbing me?" A touch of anger entered Tessa's voice, and her eyes bore into Angie's. It was not a surprise—Angie had expected something like this.

"We have to check out all possibilities," she heard herself reply automatically, in the same professional, emotionless tone one would use to someone in the interviewing room. She looked over to see Tessa stare pointedly into the air, aggravation and disbelief shooting out of her eyes. A desperate sigh wanted to push out past Angie's lips. "I need an answer, Tessa."

"He's not corrupt," Tessa insisted shortly, struggling to get her feelings in check. Her hand was clutching her stomach protectively again.

Against you. You're threatening her stability, her life line.

"Are you sure?" Angie pressed, needing to be absolutely and fully convinced, with no doubt whatsoever in her heart that her suspicions were unwarranted for. Take no risks. No hotshots.

"Of course I'm sure! Would I've defended him if I questioned his loyalties myself?" Tessa's grip tightened, her body starting to tremble ever so slightly in reigned-in irritation. A shot of some emotion swept over her, but Angie felt something was missing and continued to lay pressure on the topic.

"He hasn't been acting out-of-character lately, funny phone calls in secret, anything?"

Tessa shook her head, though not in reply to her question. "I can't believe this…"

Angie held back her sigh. "Look, Tessa, in order to protect you, we need to get the facts on the table. There's not room for uncertainty in cases like this. We're trying to keep you ali—"

"I know what you're trying to do!" Tessa interjected sharply. "And I'm grateful for it, I really am, but to be honest, of all the people in this city I only trust one person, and that's the very man you're accusing of corruptness!" Tessa stood up, seething with anger. "I trust Steve with my life, okay? He's saved my back I don't know how many times in the past five years, and I've looked out for him just as much. He'd never see me hurt. Never!"

Angie broke into her tirade. "And he'd never accept a bribe if it meant ensuring your life?" Tessa paced back and forth, one hand running through her hair, the other on her stomach. She reminded Angie of a caged animal, which made her feel even worse. She hated the thought of animals in captivity.

"Steve wouldn't even think twice about rejecting such a despicable offer!" The voice was strong, even a little harsh. Angie was taken aback by the fierceness. Tessa swung round on her, her fists clenching. "He's the straightest man I know. God, he wouldn't even have tried to wear different socks in case it was against regulations. And if he had taken a bribe to ensure my life, why would he now help a man see me dead, not to mention the same man's in the same league as those he works 24-7 to put behind bars?"

If Angie had doubts before, she had none now. The fierce protection and dedication to her partner did perhaps cloud Tessa's objectivity, but there was such honesty in what she said, so utterly strong belief, that Angie couldn't do anything but trust her words. She had been fishy about Steve herself, not quite making the picture match with the man she saw and heard, but there had been that little seed of doubt, fed by time and then having to be brought up for discussion.

She realised she needed to apologise, but Tessa was still ranting and wouldn't leave Angie room for jumping into it. "—can't believe it," she repeated, shaking her head and pacing over the floor. "The very idea of him being corrupt is ridiculous! And why would he want me dead, when in the last five years he's even bled to keep me alive? Jumped in front of the bullet that was originally meant for me? I've nearly lost him several times over, and it has killed a part of me each time he lay in that hospital bed, struggling for his life." Tessa suddenly hiccupped, breaking off her outburst, and turned her back to Angie.

It took a moment for her to realise that the other woman was trembling with silent sobs, but once it did, guilt filled her and she wrenched her eyes away.

You're an unfeeling bastard, Angela.
It's my job.
Bullshit. Stop hiding behind your job. Even you know it's a lame excuse.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. The door opened as she stood, streams of light shining from the hallway, and Steve entered. He had an expressionless look upon his face, though his brow furrowed slightly when he saw the immovable but trembling frame of his partner in the shadows.

Angie shifted uncomfortably on her feet, forcing herself to meet his gaze full on. He didn't say anything, only held her gaze for a moment before moving swiftly across the floor and laid a gentle hand on Tessa's shoulder. The trembles grew stronger, Angie noticed.

The door was left open.

He's telling you to leave.
I should apologise.
Later. You're not wanted at the moment.

Not a word had been uttered since Steve came in, and Angie didn't say anything as she went out the door and closed it behind her, feeling totally, outright awful. This had not turned out like she pictured it. It was quite the opposite, really. Of course, she had expected some amount of protectiveness, but not something of such calibre.

The thought of the two people now left inside the master bedroom perhaps being involved, returned to the front of her mind, and almost discarded immediately. It was not something screaming 'lovers' from them, nothing they said or did that convinced her something was going on, and she was usually perceptive about hidden truths. There was an intimacy between them, yes, but Angie couldn't put her finger on the exact significance and depth of it.

She said they'd known each other for five years. Being partners for five years in the centre of Australia's largest city, filled with all sorts of crimes ranking on top of the rating list, kind of brings you close together. And she mentioned they'd bled for each other. Remember Oscar being shot…

Angie wanted to throw away the thought as soon as it had appeared, but the image of the brown-haired, witty and smart, man lying immobile in the sterile hospital bed attached to a number of machines and wires, didn't want to abandon her mind. As she descended the stairs, the picture stayed with her, and she was not surprised when the familiar lump returned to her throat. It always did that.

If there was one thing she didn't want to go through again, then it would be watching Oscar get shot and balancing on a scale between life and death in the wee hours of night. Besides acting as Oscar's suddenly-there and worried girlfriend Michelle, she had as Angie inwardly prayed to whoever listened to spare his life. It had been one of the most horrible moments of her life.

Snap out of it. It serves no good thinking about it. You just get sappy.

Shaking her head, Angie stepped down onto the rug beneath the staircase, looking around the living/dining room which so far bore no immediate traces of the place being occupied. As she went over to sit down on the couch, Oscar emerged from the kitchen, munching contently on an apple.

"Good thing with all this pregnancy stuff," he said lightly, taking a seat beside her, not noticing she scooted cautiously away. "No take-away or suspicious-looking pizza, just things good for our health."

"Remember to save something for the mother-to-be," Angie reminded him distantly, with just a touch of humour. "She's the one needing all those vitamins the most." Elbows resting on her knees, she leaned her head forward into her hands. This time she couldn't hold back the sigh pushing out of her chest. Tessa's words replayed behind closed eyelids.

"What's the matter?" Oscar asked through the darkness of her mind, his warm hand laid upon her back. She forced herself not to flinch or crumble at the gesture as she slowly opened her eyes and stared at the blank wall at the other side of the room. "Ange, is this about what happened upstairs?"

"You heard, huh?" Her voice sounded derisive. The blank whiteness of the wall, looking worn and old, filled her vision. She focused on it, still consciously aware of the shivers running down her spine from Oscar's ever-present hand.

"Hard not to," he replied easily, but his tone indicated a hint of worry. "Steve seemed to take it cool, but I could tell he wanted to go up there faster than he did."

Steve worries about Tessa, Oscar about you. You're a nice foursome; perhaps you'd do a double date sometime?
Shut up. Tessa's having someone else's baby. Besides, there's nothing to it.
Why are you so touchy about it then?

"Well," Angie started, glancing over her shoulder at Oscar, who was sitting alertly beside her, before returning to stare at the wall. "I asked her about him, what she thought and such. Told me pretty much what I'd already guessed, but I still pushed her. She got really upset." And I feel so bad about it, her drifting voice ended in silence.

"Hey, don't beat yourself over it." Oscar edged closer, his hand rubbing her back gently. "You know the question needed to be asked, it couldn't be helped; you only did your job." Angie couldn't keep the grim expression off her face.

'You only did your job.' Hah!

"Besides," her colleague continued softly, "I'm sure Tessa didn't mean anything bad by it, she's just had a rough day and needed to let out some steam. Granted, it's not fair to let it out on you, but hey, wouldn't you have done the same in her situation?" The hand snuggled around her side, gently urging her closer. Relinquishing control, Angie let herself be drawn into a one-arm hug, secretly relishing the warmth and comfort his presence offered.

"That's just it," Angie said near-whisperingly, closing her eyes as she leant on Oscar's shoulder. "She's been through a lot of stress today, with the near-kidnapping and all. Considering her pregnancy, I should've been more low-key, tried to avoid aggravating her further. But instead I go attacking the only friend she's got in this town, rattling her foundation. And by hurting her, I've probably earned Steve's distrust as well, even if he happens to be as dirty as the sewer."

"Oh come on, Ange, you know that's not true," Oscar objected lightly. "Takes more than bandying with words to make you distrust someone. Not to mention that your body unconsciously exudes trustworthiness all over the place. Tessa's bound to have caught up on that, but right now she's not thinking straight."

Angie groaned, seeing his point, and let her face fall back into her hands again. "I know, I know. It's just… My mind's going off in all kinds of directions. I don't know up and down anymore."

"Sounds like the argument shook you up pretty bad," Oscar said gently, then tried to turn up the mood again, "But hey, it'll be all right." He slipped his arm round her shoulders again, massaging the tense muscles in her neck. She kept the groan of pleasure to herself, not trusting his reaction to it. "Tessa'll come round eventually. You'll see it's all going to work out in the end." Oscar's hand travelled down her spine, prodding comfortingly at the muscles.

"In the meantime," he continued, "about Steve… I think he's clean. Got him talking about the royal commission last week up in Sydney, remember that? Well, I got the impression he's very much by the book, not the kind who'd forget about rules as soon as something turned up that could boost one's pay check. He spoke very firmly about justice through legal procedures—convinced me at least.

"I also think that he cares too much about Tessa to want her dead. He seems very protective of her, and it was probably boosted after her pregnancy was revealed. I mean, who wouldn't be? It's a dangerous line of work being a cop, and you always look after your partner, right?" Angie nodded, silently beginning to accept what they had been given of impressions and information through the conversations, and thought back on the incident upstairs.

"Tessa said something similar," she said, opening her eyes. "That Steve wouldn't even wear different socks if it'd been against regulations." Her lips twitched slightly in humour at the interesting choice of example by the older woman.

"So are we convinced?" Oscar asked. "Will we let the matter be at rest?"

Angie moved her gaze from the blanch wall opposite of her and to Oscar's face, still acutely aware of the hand kneading her back oh so good. "I think so," she said evenly. "But I still feel there's something missing, you know? Something that distorts the picture just enough to make me suspicious, but I can't put my finger on it. All I know is that there's something strange about him, about them."

Oscar sighed, removing his hand and leaning back in the seat. "Then leave it for now," he told her firmly, giving her a look which told her in no circumstances was she allowed to do otherwise. "Get your mind straight and clear, then afterwards you can get back to it with a fresh start. If you still feel the need to," he added, clearly believing this to be a subject ready to be closed and moved down on the priority list.

But Angie couldn't give up on the thoughts just yet. She returned to thinking about the two detectives who had an air of intimacy around them that seemed to have evolved past partners and onto another field. A field where the feelings had grown deeper and more meaningful, where they had the choice between going further or stay were they were: apart and miserable.

Only that they weren't miserable. They seemed happy with each other. And this made Angie think they had taken the final step and gotten together in a way that wasn't typical of partners and was usually what forced them to split up and go into different divisions.

However, she quickly chided herself on the matter.

Just because you aren't allowed to be together intimately doesn't mean you have to go around and be miserable about it. There are other ways of being together that can be just as meaningful. They're obviously best friends. Who're you to say they must be lovers because they're happy? Just because you and Oscar—

Hold it right there. Don't go down that road again, Angela. You know it yourself, it's no use. Nothing ever comes out of it. Besides, what about the suitcase?

The lone, single suitcase, most likely containing clothes and items from both persons, which had bugged Angie's mind earlier and now, came back to her. In her experience, she hadn't met many friends or partners who'd shared baggage room. In fact, she'd met none. It was a very peculiar and strange thing to do. The relationship between said persons would have to be equally strange and peculiar, or at least way different than other people's relationships. Unless the shared suitcase was for practical measures, to relieve the persons off of multiple luggage.

Except the fact the couple-in-question did seem much more comfortable with each other than a couple of best friends and partners. This ruled out the shared suitcase being for practical reasons, at least to a lesser degree. And then again there was no outwardly sign that the two actually were an item.

Angie felt she was going round herself. It was frustrating not having all the facts in black and white, even though she was used to being in situations like that.

She rubbed her face, suddenly feeling very tired. It hadn't been a restful night for her. The last case she'd been on had her locked in an upheaval of remaining fright and edginess. Not that she wanted to dwell on it anymore…

In typical and automatic fashion, Angie pushed the memories to the back of her mind and turned her head to look at Oscar who still sat quietly in the seat beside her on the couch. He met her gaze levelly, not saying a word. They stared at each other in silence.

You and Oscar are also at that point where you either go forth or back or keep at stand-still. And what a happy bunch you are, her mind added sarcastically. Angie hated the little voice at the back of her head, but could do little to stop it from stating the obvious, the things she tried to avoid or run away from.

Feel the electricity? the little voice asked as she felt herself fall deeper into the pools of Oscar's eyes. They were so enchanting, so…

The stairs creaked suddenly, and Angie broke away as if burned, scooting to the other side of the couch. Ignoring the stab of disappointment, her eyes sought the origin of the sound and spotted a pair of feet on their way down the stairs. Moments later, Steve stepped down on the landing. His face was free of any emotions Angie had expected to see, but he didn't seem angry.

"How is she?" Oscar asked, breaking the momentary silence. Steve sat down in the armchair opposite of them, his voice calm and a little weary as he spoke. Angie forced her emotions under control and schooled her features, quiet.

"Asleep. She'll probably be out of it for a while. Didn't get much sleep last night." A hint of satisfaction crossed his features, like he knew something they didn't, and it added to the reawakened suspicion in Angie's mind. But it was quickly replaced by the usual, easy-going expression. He leaned forward on his elbows, clasping his hands together while surveying them through honest eyes.

"Look," Steve began seriously, "I just want to say that I can understand your view of things." He gave them each a look, letting the silence work for him before continuing. "If I'd been the one safe-keeping a star witness with a mole lurking in the background somewhere, I'd probably be wary of everyone as well, especially an outsider."

He gave a ghost of a smile, eyes hardening a little as his jaw set. The same fierce protectiveness Angie had seen in Tessa's eyes flashed from Steve's. "But I want you to know, I would never hurt Tessa, or the baby. Never. I'd rather die than lose her again…" He turned his head, his voice drifting off, giving the lingering knowledge of something that seemed to lie far back in the past, or maybe not so far.

Angie felt her heart warm on his behalf, thinking back on the time when Oscar had been shot. Glancing at Oscar told her he was in pretty much the same state. The air was filled with remembrance, of remorse and sorrow. She hunched her shoulders, wanting to get rid of the uncomfortable silence that ensued.

"So what do you say to a game of Scrabble?"

The proposition was so sudden, so seemingly absurd in the present situation that they all broke out in a liberating chuckle. She had also meant it as a sort of peace offering, even if Steve didn't immediately catch up on it. However, he seemed to have done so.

Oscar winked an eye at her. "Fine by me, what do you say, Steve? Up to the challenge, or would it be too tough a challenge for a Sydney detective to deal with two Melbourne constables?" The dark-haired man shook his head in humour and grinned, shooting back something equally bantering. Angie stood up and found the box stored in a cupboard by the dining table, feeling silly but glad the ice had been broken somewhat.

However, one thought remained gloomily in her mind. Now there's only one more frontier to break.

---

The game of Scrabble ended close to an hour later, all three seemingly very creative when it came to words and both men showed an ambitious and competitive side to them that Angie couldn't quite keep up with. Not that she didn't try, quite the opposite really. Right up until Oscar managed to spell 'icosahedrons' (which is seemingly a solid figure with twenty faces), then the men had seen nothing but her bum as she raced ahead on the score list. Then they had worked against her in unison and managed to place her down on the bottom of the list, before proceeding to compete between themselves. Angie had just shaken her head at them, thinking: Men.

Putting the pieces and card board back in the colourful box named 'Scrabble', Oscar went to put it back in the cupboard where she'd found it earlier. Steve stood up and excused himself to the bathroom. Angie was left sitting on the couch, a sense of easy comradeship filling the air. At least until the silence and lack of company made her think of Tessa again.

During the game, Angie had been attentive to the conversation flowing easily between the two men, noting how his tone of voice changed depending on what subject Steve was encouraged to talk about. And she had noticed he grew rather soft when the conversation brushed past things like family, the bush, and his partner. Oscar had tried to make a subtle pass on whether Steve was involved with anyone, but if the Sydney detective had caught up on it, he sure didn't show it. However, it was like his mouth clamped shut in old automatic response when the certain topic of relationship was brought up.

It strengthened her belief that something she didn't know about was going on between the two partners. Earlier, she'd experienced several moments where the air had been filled with an intimacy between them that didn't suit the picture perfect of two Homicide detectives. And it only perked her interest even more. Angie wanted to get to the bottom of this, but as painless as possible.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She startled out of her train of thought, glancing up at Oscar who stood behind the armchair Steve had vacated. He gave her an inquiring look.

"I can't get away from the feeling something's going on that I don't know about and it buggers me. I want answers. But my last attempt went to pieces. I'm not sure if I should try again."

"Ah, Ange, I'm sure Tessa's more relenting now that she's had an hour shuteye." She didn't quite believe him and he noticed, sighing. "Look, like I said before, forget about it. It's no good trying to force answers out in the light. They've got a natural way of revealing themselves. You've just got to wait."

Angie groaned, rubbing her face again. "I know. It's just hard. They're just…" She didn't finish the thought, only continuing it in her mind. They're reminding me of someone, and if I find an answer to them, I'll find an answer to some of my problems.

That was what she had worked out during Scrabble while listening to the men talk about their homes, comparing the bush in each place. It explained the strong feeling that was driving her on this merry chase of near-obsessive and unrelenting answer-seeking. But she couldn't tell Oscar that. Not in her dreams did she dare to do that.

Angie stood up abruptly, stepping around the low table and towards the kitchen. "I'm thinking dinner about five or six, what do you say to that?"

"What's on?" Oscar moved after her, mockingly uncertain of her cooking skills. "Not by any chance one of your killer roasts?"

"Oscar," she chided him teasingly. "Not with two Homicide cops in the house. They'd find me out before you could say 'icosahedrons'." He grinned back at her, obvious pleased with the jest. "No," Angie continued, "I was thinking pasta or something like that. Nice and healthy for the mother-to-be, and we wouldn't take any damage by it anyway. It'd do us good getting away from the dubious fast food orders."

"Speak for yourself," Oscar quipped. "I was looking forward to some pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and dressing on the side." She chuckled, hitting him on the arm playfully while opening the fridge door and taking the juice out.

"Moron," she rolled her eyes and popped the cork open, pouring the orange juice into a glass she'd taken from the cupboard. "You want some?" Oscar nodded yes and found his own glass, Angie filling it almost to the brim. She returned the juice in the fridge and leaned back against the kitchen table, staring opposite of her at Oscar while sipping the juice.

At that moment, Steve again chose to appear in the doorway, giving Angie a small sense of déja-vu. He had his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe.

Angie spoke up, "We were thinking dinner—pasta—about five-six, that's a couple of hours 'till. What do you say?" Steve smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Sounds as good as any time I guess. And Tessa's probably up by then. She'll be as hungry as a bear too, so you'll be sure to make a double for her." He grinned heartily, amused at the things a woman did while pregnant. Angie couldn't keep the smile off her face either and saw Oscar struggle as well.

"I'm almost glad I'm not in her position," Angie said, avoiding the glance sent her way from her undercover colleague. She did say almost. One day, not today but again not too far into the future, she wanted kids. Secretly there was only one man she wanted the mentioned kids with, but she wasn't about to let that out.

"Well, aren't we all?" Oscar retorted lowly. She realised he'd changed the subject from Tessa's pregnancy to the fact she was under heavy protection because some loony was after her blood. It darkened the mood and the room grew quiet, each one deep in thought.

Oscar was the one to break the uneasy silence, perhaps feeling guilty he'd brought up the one topic which seemed touchy. "Hey Steve, isn't there a game on tonight?" And the men were engaged in sports talk as they moved out into the living room, leaving Angie behind contemplating the situation they had landed in.

But she didn't want to let herself be wound up in just another never-ending train of thought, so Angie set the now empty glass in the sink and moved out of the room to wherever her overnight bag was. In it was a book she had brought along in case things turned quiet.

If the men are going to watch footy, I might as well find something to do.

She ascended the stairs and started moving down the hallway to the master bedroom, only catching up with her mind before she twisted the door knob. Arrangements had been such that she and Oscar had agreed to share the master bedroom and leaving the single bedrooms to either of the detectives, but Steve had taken the suitcase here and this was also where Tessa was napping…

So is one of us going to sleep on the couch or was this just a momentary solution?

Her brow furrowed immediately as she hurried to the single bedrooms, slinging the first door open. One overnight bag on the bed. Oscar's. She went to the other room. Her bag lay by the end of the bed. Oscar had only carried the bags upstairs, he said, it was Steve who put them in the rooms. But where was Steve going to sleep?

And then it hit her.

Angie stepped away from the door with a gape. It all suddenly added up. The unusual intimacy, the shared suitcase, Steve knowing Tessa's diet by heart, Tessa's fierce protection, the odd comments, the satisfied expressions, the touching…

Tessa and Steve was a couple.

Not quite believing the new assumption in her head, Angie racked her brain for the events of the last hours since she'd met the detectives. Every memory was replayed and scrutinized. And she did find the evidence to support her hypothesis, albeit she needed to look closely for them, and many of the things could be interpreted two ways.

Angie shook her head in disbelief, leaning against the doorframe into the smaller bedroom. She had only strayed past the subject earlier in her thought process, not lingered by it because it seemed so far-fetched. Partners weren't usually still partners if they became intimate with each other; many had to switch partner, or even division.

How can you know one of them haven't filed for a transfer and is just waiting for the system to do its job?
It doesn't feel like it. They're so… it's like they're still partners and expecting to be so in the future as well.

She thought back on the possible interpretations in her memories, those that indicated nothing was going on between Tessa and Steve. She could be wrong of course. That her own situation had influenced her choice of interpretations and therefore had the detectives pegged as lovers. However, there was that little seed of certainty that said she was correct.

But you're not sure, her mind finished, drifting off.

"Don't speculate," Angie muttered lowly, sighing and bumping her head backwards in the doorframe. "It's a goose chase. Stick to facts."

"Something wrong?" The voice broke through the hazy chaos of her mind, bringing Angie back to the hard core reality where the ground was firm underneath her legs. She turned her head, spotting Tessa further down the hall, just outside the door to the master bedroom. She had put on the cardigan again, effectively hiding the slight swell of her stomach from view, and had her arms crossed. She didn't look angry anymore, just well-rested. In fact, she was smiling slightly.

"Umm… No, everything's all right," Angie said slowly, not quite sure where she had the other woman, and didn't know how to react at this sudden change of heart. Tessa seemed to pick up on it, flashing an apologetic smile.

"Good to hear. I was worried me snatching your head off earlier would have you in a bit of conflicting emotions about me. I'm sorry for yelling at you, by the way."

"No, no, I'm sorry for accusing Steve like that," Angie interrupted quickly; embarrassed the woman had gotten ahead of her when she should be the one to apologize first. "He must mean so much to you, especially now when you're trapped in a city and a house with people you don't know and have to suddenly trust with your life. You were right about that. And I didn't have the right to come to you and attack the man you…" Angie didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to bring up the assumption Tessa and Steve was a couple at the moment.

Tessa looked down in the ground, seemingly a little embarrassed herself. "He does mean a lot to me." She tilted her head and met Angie's eyes. Again, the unreadable expression crossed her face. "But still, it wasn't my right to act up like that. You were within your full rights to question Steve's liability in a situation like this, and if the roles were reversed I would've done the same thing. It was just me being in a high about everything. And I won't blame this entirely on the hormones, but…" Tessa grinned suddenly, making Angie do so as well. "They can be quite annoying once in a while—no, that's a lie, they usually occur very often these days—and it causes my temper to run off. I'm sorry you had to be at the other end of that."

Angie brushed it off. "So we're both sorry, let's just leave it at that, shall we? Question is: do we get to move past it?" She stared straight into Tessa's eyes, holding her gaze levelly and hoping she gave the impression of hope and promise.

"I think we do," Tessa said finally, smiling. "I mean, what's the point in staying on uneven terms when we're going to be living under the same roof for god-knows how long? Doesn't do either of us any good."

"You're right, it doesn't. So we're cool?" she added just to reassure herself.

Tessa nodded again, letting her arms fall down to her sides. "We're cool." Angie grinned, happy and relieved things had worked out.

Just like Oscar said it would.

"Look, I know how tiring and difficult these kinds of situations can be," Angie said, referring to the whole protection thing, "And I know a man's ear can be quite deaf once in a while, so if you need a lady's ear I'm here." She smiled, comfortingly she hoped, at Tessa who returned it.

"I will," the blonde replied gratefully, eyes warm. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, you wanna do something? Cards, perhaps?"

"That'd be nice," Tessa said, crossing her arms again, hugging the cardigan closer, before moving towards the stairs. Angie followed her, catching up on her just as she started to descend. She couldn't help but look down and see if she could see the pregnant bulb again, albeit surreptitiously.

"The guys decided to watch some footy," she told Tessa, "And I'm sure you're always welcome to join them if you'd like."

"Men," Tessa rolled her eyes wryly, making Angie chuckle in agreement. "No matter where you find them, they'll always be interested in cars and sports."

"My sentiments exactly," Angie grinned, throwing the two men a humorously glance before leading Tessa towards the dining table. She could feel their eyes on them as they found the deck of cards and sat down. A look in Oscar's direction told her as much that he was satisfied the women had broken the ice and a little smug. Angie couldn't keep the small indignant frown from her face. She turned her face firmly away and looked at Tessa.

"So, what shall we play?"

---

The rest of the afternoon passed with no further great crisis. Dinner had been a comfortable and easy-going affair, with all four joining in the conversation around the table, even though Tessa was a little more subdued than the others. Not that anyone badgered her about it.

Just before the sun went down, the "watch dogs", as Oscar had so humbly named them, had announced their arrival and Angie had made sure they were in place for the night. She had also turned the sensor alarm on, so if anyone went through the gate or over the fence they would know about it right away.

Really high tech when a star witness comes along. Nearly maximum security.

Right now, Angie was sitting in one of the puffy chairs reading a book she had brought along, idly listening to the easy chatter between Steve and Oscar. Upon realising they had familiar backgrounds, both coming from the country and moving into the city to pursue a life in the police, the two men had soon made fast friends across the six year gap that hung over them (Steve was nearly 36 according to Tessa, and Oscar had just had his big 30th birthday party—a wild affair when Peter Church stood for the entertainment). Angie had to smile as she heard them commenting on the highlighted moments of the earlier football game on the evening news.

"You'd think they'd never seen or want anything else but sports and cars. It's a wonder there's still humans left in this world." Angie spoke over the cover of her book, glancing at the woman seated in the matching arm chair opposite of her, reading a magazine. Tessa was rolling her eyes, amused.

"I find it hard to believe their biggest problem is procreation," she said. "Show them a woman and they'll know exactly what to do and have no qualms doing it: First point in the Man's Matter of Survival Guide." As to prove her point, Tessa patted the slight bulb underneath her cardigan, treating her to a sardonic look.

Angie laughed, marking the page she was on and laying down her book. "Well, for that reason, it is left for us women to get them whipped and housetrained."

"Exactly," Tessa accentuated with a grin. "What would men do without us to keep them on track?" The magazine was laid with the front down across her feet.

"Probably run off the walls in the frustration of unsatisfied primal lust and butt their heads together." The women chuckled in unison, receiving a few interested looks from the men which only made them laugh harder.

Angie was relieved in a way as the laughter died down. It felt she had finally gotten past the first walls between her and this woman she was sent to protect. Once the first ice was broken, Tessa seemed like an easy woman to talk to, with a good sense of humour and a positive attitude which belied Angie's first impression.

But there was still the air of distance around the other woman, who had drawn her feet up beneath her and now leaned over on the plush armrest, looking sad, almost. The humour still lingered in her features, but her eyes were blank as the silence ensued.

As when back in the car and in the kitchen, Angie got the feeling Tessa was reliving old monsters. Perhaps it was today's events or the events happening during the investigation about two weeks prior. Angie had heard from Mac that the Sydney detective had been attacked by Gary Gisbourne and pushed down the stairs somewhere when they went to apprehend him on murder charges. It would have been upsetting, with the baby and all. The baby could have died. But she had been lucky. And she must have felt extremely lucky and happy in the time afterwards. And then she came down here to Melbourne and had to face the invisible face of elder brother Gisbourne, again threatening the life of both her and the baby.

She's strong, Angie thought, a touch of admiration filling her. She won't allow it to overwhelm her, to catch her off-guard again. She cleared her throat, opening her mouth to speak only to be beaten at the goal line by the other woman.

"I'm so happy the woman ideal has changed since my grandmother grew up," Tessa said thoughtfully, gazing around the living room before settling back on Angie's face. "I don't think I could stand being a housewife; I'd rip my hair our in sheer boredom." Angie smiled.

"I know the feeling. If I didn't have my job, my life would be completely dull." She sighed slightly, closing her book and leaving it balancing on the armrest. "Though, once in a while, it can of course get a little too much action to my taste." Tessa nodded in agreement, arms encircling her frame as if cold. Angie wondered for a moment if she should offer finding a blanket, but Tessa spoke again.

"I think I'm going to miss the action once I'm on maternity leave, and I doubt even Steve's promise to come up with puzzles to feed my brain will keep me from climbing off the walls. The only other thing to do would be to actual housekeep. A fate worse than death."

As she ended the sentence, Tessa glanced over at the dark-haired man in the other side of the room, still engaged in an avid football and cricket discussion. Angie followed her gaze, her lips drawn in a smile as she too found the men with her eyes. They looked like old comrades already.

She turned back to the other woman. "When's the baby due?"

"Five months or so, end of January." Tessa said warmly, twirling the simple golden band around her ring finger lovingly. It was not the first time Angie had noticed it, but it was the first time Tessa showed any sign at all that she was either married or engaged. She had seen the ring at dinner, so simple golden and with a small, gleaming diamond perfecting it.

"You must be happy," said Angie with a smile, nodding slightly toward the ring.

Tessa smiled. "Yeah, we're both thrilled. Steve can hardly wait to see if it's a boy or girl. We decided to let it be a surprise." She leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "I'm secretly hoping for a boy, though, but don't tell Steve. He thinks I want a girl." She winked smartly, noticing the look of surprise on Angie's face. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love for a girl as well, as long as I know neither of them will end up in Homicide. I think my family's had enough of detectives."

"Steve's the father?" Angie blurted out before she could help herself, the suspicions from earlier returning. So they were a couple. I wasn't wrong in assuming so then… She watched alarmingly to see if Tessa had taken it the bad way, but the woman only shrugged nonplussed.

"Yes, he is. We're getting married as well." Tessa eyed her curiously. "You seem surprised. Don't worry; I won't hold it against you. You're not the first and will probably not be the last to react this way. We're expected to be just partners, not romantically involved. That's how things are, right? Straight, proficient, and by the book." It sounded like she was reciting someone or something, and she smiled without much humour. But she didn't otherwise look offended.

"Sorry, you're right, I was a bit surprised," Angie hurried to apologise, covering up her blunder. It felt like the final pieces were at last falling in place. So much unexplainable stood now with an answer. "As you say," she continued, "It's not very common and there are rules about this. At least here in Victoria there is."

"Like one of us having to transfer?" Tessa asked while looking half-way lost in thought at her partner who was gesturing gently as if pointing out something to Oscar. The distant expression crossed her face again, but not remaining like it had earlier.

"Yes, that kind of thing," Angie agreed, also looking over at the men, though concentrating her stare at her own colleague. A thought entered her mind. "Or are the rules different in the New South Wales police?" she asked, furtively trying to hide her uncontrollable interest. If Tessa and Steve were allowed to stay together…

"No, I think it's the same in both states," said Tessa, her brows knitted together. Angie hid her disappointment well. "But we haven't gotten round to talk too much about it—Steve only proposed yesterday—so I don't know what'll happen. We'd like to stay together, of course, but there are also other options, though not very favourable. I guess we'll just have to see how things progresses." Angie nodded, thoughtful.

"So what division are you in?" Tessa changed the subject, seemingly not particularly keen on continuing the previous conversation.

"Umm…" Angie was unsure of what to say, not certain whether it was wise or not to reveal her real unit. Not that she felt threatened by the other woman—quite the opposite actually—but she realised she had never been in a situation where she had been in an inner conflict of what to say. Usually she used a well-rehearsed cover story, yet somehow, now she felt differently. It could be the fact they were from two different states and divisions, and it could be that despite the fact she had not known Tessa for long she felt she could trust her. There was something about her that appealed to Angie, but exactly what she was not sure.

She became acutely aware of the interested stare from the other woman, and decided to put an end to the mental rambling. "I'm in the undercover unit." Tessa's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she nodded as if getting confirmation on a thought she had.

"You don't seem overly surprised," Angie noted, wondering if her acting skills were starting to lack. Tessa smiled sheepishly.

"Don't judge by looks," she replied, making Angie smile wryly in agreement. "I am surprised, just not one hundred percent. You're both good at hiding things, but it just didn't add up. You can say I had a hunch."

If anything, Angie thought she had located the source of Tessa's career success—intuition. Intuition, and an intelligent and experienced mind to catch up on signs seemingly insignificant, but in reality saying a lot about other persons. She wasn't sure if she wanted to give herself as much credit. Her own success was mostly based on what she'd picked up throughout her work in the field.

Angie opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the loud ringing of an insistent tune. She smiled apologetically at Tessa. "Sorry, gotta take that. The boss said she'd call for a check-up." Tessa nodded, gesturing that no apologies were necessary.

She stood up and rounded the chair towards the dining table where her cell phone lay. Bringing it with her to the kitchen, she pressed the reply button and put the phone to her ear.

"Piper. Hi, Danni. Where's Mac? Oh, okay. Wish her luck from me, then. Yep, everything's en route. No approximate alarms going off, no barks from the watchdogs… Right, I'll let him now. Okay, I'll call you if there's anything. Have a good time with Rick. Bye."

She turned the phone off with a small smile at her colleague's choice of date, twirling to find Oscar standing in the doorway, having followed her into the kitchen. He gave her a curious look.

"It was Danni," Angie explained, feeling a little warm as he stepped closer to her. That had happened a lot lately, she realised. "There haven't been any reports as to any of Gisbourne's men being on the move, so we might assume our location's still secure. But I suggest we take turns on night duty anyway. You can never be too sure."

"Sounds good," Oscar agreed, leaning against the kitchen bench. "I'll take the first round. I bet you've been up since early morn' and need your beauty sleep." The teasing look upon his face earned him a playful swat on the arm.

"You're lucky you paid me a compliment, or I'd be whipping your butt."

"What, such a lovely butt like mine? You wouldn't." Angie laughed at the puppy eyes Oscar put up for her benefit.

It's when people act silly that you realise how much they mean to you.

The thought popped into her head suddenly, sobering her up in less than a blink of an eye. She propped her arms up on the sink, leaning back on her flat palms.

"Did you know Tessa and Steve are together?" Angie asked, peering into the living room where the people in question had seated themselves on the couch, Tessa using Steve's lap as a pillow while he smoothed her hair gently. In spite of the blank expression upon Tessa's face, and look of concern from her partner, they looked adoring together. A perfect match, thought Angie.

"Together is in together with big T and glittering letters?" Oscar asked to make sure he had understood the meaning behind Angie's words.

She nodded. "They're engaged, and he's the father to her baby." Oscar's brows furrowed as he too glanced quickly back into the living room, saw the couple snuggling on the couch and turned back to Angie, looking very much like a question mark.

"But they're partners, right?"

"Yeah, they are… Though, there's no clear rule saying they can't be together. It's just that if both want to stay in the force, one of them has to transfer to a different unit or division."

She closed her eyes, unaware of the sudden stare directed at her. Though, when her skin started to prickle in anticipation, Angie was suddenly very aware of just how close Oscar was standing to her. Her first instinct was to move away, flee from the conflicting emotions inside her, but the look he gave her held back…at least for a long, lingering moment in which his warm eyes locked with hers and she felt herself drowning. Then sensibility knocked into her, dragging her back to reality and she cleared her throat.

"I think I'll check up on our watchdogs, see if they've got anything to say."

Oscar only nodded as she left the kitchen, all the while mentally berating herself on losing control for a second.

What are you thinking, Angie? You can't be together. Not now. Possibly not forever.

The key word being 'possibly', her mind retorted just as quick. Angie shook it quickly out of her head, smiling at the couple on the sofa as she found the radio and called for the guys in the cars.

It's when people act silly that you realise how much they mean to you.

Oh, how true that was.

---

Steve's heavy eyes opened, blinking at the darkness surrounding him. Right, it was still night…Something had woken him up, and he was not surprised to find worry bubbling beneath the surface of his sleep-foggy mind. It was not an unusual occurrence, but these days it was happening a lot more frequently. Ever since… He sighed inaudibly.

By habit, he rolled over from his back-lying position and on his side, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of deep night. It was eerily quiet in the whole house it seemed, with the exception of a few soft creaks downstairs as whoever of the constables on watch walked across the floor and back again. However, inside the master bedroom only he made noises.

"You should get some sleep." His voice broke through the silence quietly, tinted with unconcealed concern. Steve gazed through half-closed lids at the silent form beside him, the back turned to him. Even in the darkness, he could see, if not at least sense, the tension in her neck and shoulders.

Raising his hand like he had done so many times before, he laid it to rest upon Tessa's slender, pale and unmoving shoulder. There was no immediate response, but he waited patiently, knowing it would come in the end.

It only took three soft intakes and outtakes of breath before Tessa spoke. "I know." She sounded so weary and utterly defeated; Steve felt that if he reached lower and deeper he could touch her innermost emotions, those she rarely let past her defences.

His grip tightened before he managed to get his feelings in check. Covering up that mistake, even though his mind told him it was all right to release some of the emotions he kept behind his defences, Steve edged a little closer.

"Nervous?" he asked gently, although knowing already what the answer would be.

In the years they had known each other, and in the year since they got together, both had managed to ease the walls around their hearts down a little by little, letting the other into their guarded fortress, and thus familiarized themselves with the signs. Both had had so many secrets, so many unfinished issues that caused a lot of frustration and despair, often released unjustly upon the other rather upon themselves. And still a lot of them lay unresolved. He could think of a good many.

As predicted, Tessa nodded barely, her hand slowly climbing up her arm to wound into his fingers, seeking the comfort he offered. It always started like this. Timid, unsure—neither of them still not quite accepting what the other was offering of comfort, having been so used to distance and concealment after four years of see-but-no-touch.

Then it would gradually change until she—or him, in his low moments—was snuggled into the arms of the other, releasing whatever feelings having been carefully locked up, sometimes for a short while, sometimes for years. They had experienced a lot together and learned more about one another in the past year. Steve didn't lie when he claimed to know the signs.

Tessa continued, "Feels like I've been filled to the brim with frightened flies wanting to escape in all sorts of directions."

Her voice was so shy, just as vulnerable as the time they had sat in his car after catching the Fairview killer. Only difference was, this time he could actually do something to comfort her without being afraid of how it would affect their job. Never mind what he did now, it wouldn't have further implications on their working relationship than the twists of life had already affected it. In his opinion, it would only serve to make it stronger.

Suddenly, Tessa gave a hysterical chortle, clutching his hand almost painfully as she hunched her shoulders together, but Steve didn't mind. He never minded. For all he cared, she could have broken his wrist if it meant she would gain some sense of security and comfort from it. During their stay in Oakdale while investigating the Haven murders, he had admitted to himself that she had gotten to him. Now he could say without a trace of doubt in his heart that she had changed that point of view even further.

He loved her.

Not that he was the type of man to dwell on the topic for a long amount of time.

Steve shifted in his lying position, releasing her hand to sneak his arms around Tessa's huddled frame. She didn't resist, she never did nowadays, and only let herself be drawn close against his chest. Her soft, silky hair scraped against his stubble, smelling of sweet flowers and the personal scent that sent familiar shivers down his spine as he breathed it in, snuggling as close as he got.

Secured now in his arms, he noticed she was trembling. Not rapid, strong shivers, only the consistent, prickling, almost like a tease, tremble. He kissed the top of her head, his hands settling protectively around the small bulge of her stomach.

"It'll be all right," Steve murmured lowly into her ear, feeling the shivers running up and down her back. She was breathing slightly erratically, he noticed now, but knew with calm realisation that it had nothing to do with the closeness. Fright was trying to overcome her senses, taking control. "You've just had a long, stressful day," he continued in the same, gentle voice, "and you need to relax. It'll work itself out."

The silence stretched out, tightening slightly as his thoughts returned to the events of the day. At the air plane, teasing her about the baby's sex, knowing it would irritate her. Picking up the suitcase and watching her beautiful, serene face as she was lost in thought. Senses heightening as he started to realise what was really going on while the two uniformed customs officers led them away from the main part of the airport. Seeing Tessa gasping for air in the dusty office, struggling against the strong man who held her down, feeling helpless in coming to her aid. Trying to take her hand and comfort her, only to be wrenched apart by one of the men. Tessa reaching her arms towards him while he was led away with a gun in the back, watching her being ruthlessly arm-locked.

Steve never hoped to see the look of absolute fear and despair in her striking eyes again. Never. It would kill him, even more so if he was the reason for it. Whatever it took, he wanted to keep her safe and sound, happy and alive.

If Gisbourne tries at something again…
Don't think like that. Stay focussed, stay calm.

And like he always did when faced with an inner battle between head and heart, Steve chose the safe path of the head. The safe path to not loosing yourself, a path of self-preservation.

The routine had been enforced over the years as the crimes advanced in state, nearly destroying any hope of him ever admitting his feelings to Tessa. But parts of it had fallen to pieces in the same event that had sent him down on the present course in his private life. However, even if his emotional defences were gradually lowered over the past year, it was a routine hard to reverse.

And Tessa knew it. And worked diligently against it in the shadows. She would never openly admit she was trying to do so, but then again, neither was he in the same regard. Both had some personal work in front of them before everything was sun and blue skies.

"I wish I could be so easily convinced," Tessa broke through his thoughts, still on the previous subject. Steve forced his mind back on the same track as her, shaking off any lingering memory or thought.

He burrowed his nose into the scented hair wafting over his upper arm and brushing past his face across the pillow. It tickled in his nose, but Steve ignored it in favour of the drops of wetness hitting the skin of his lower arm. This time he didn't berate his feelings for coming loose when his arms tightened their grip.

Steve hated to see her vulnerable, defenceless, and had done so ever since their first case and Tessa had been faced with a ghost from the past. It was one of those things he would always hate, because it hurt her as much as it hurt him, though so much more. And at the moment, he hated it because it was unfair that she had to go through so much, especially now, with the baby and all. The doctor had warned them against stress, telling them to avoid it as much as they could. It was a risk factor that with high exposure could play part in a miscarriage.

He wished he could take her burdens away with just a snap of his fingers. To take her load and put it upon his own shoulders, like in that song "Lean on Me". But even he had to face the truth he was no Santa Claus. That and the fact that an issue was better handled when you were two instead of being just one.

Though, Tessa was deep down not a team player, and it had only been proven over and over again. However, at some point in their relationship, she had allowed him to join her in her issues, and the other way round. They were slowly adjusting to coping things together, like a married couple would. Even so, there would always be some situations they had to stand on their own feet, if not else but for the feeling of being your own person.

Steve kissed her hair, murmuring soothing words and hoping she would calm down by it. The wetness became more apparent now, but he knew there would be no point in trying to turn her round and wipe them off, so he settled for just holding her securely. Otherwise Tessa would retreat into her shell once more, the one erected for her at nights when dreams ruled the hours of sleep. She had never told him why, but she hated the nights for its dreams, ever since childhood. Steve had not asked, knowing she would tell him if she felt the need to.

"Everything'll be all right, okay?" Steve let his hand stroke across her stomach in slow, calming motions. It calmed her somewhat more when he did that. He thought it would have something to do with the baby.

"We're in what has to be the most high tech safe house the Victorian police department have to offer, there's two unmarked police cars outside keeping surveillance, and we've got two smart constables who can think on their feet inside the house. You're safe. We're safe," he added, accentuating his statement by patting the bulb underneath his palm, shielded only by the pyjama top she wore.

Tessa didn't reply at once, still shivering a little and unmoving, but her timid yet dark voice soon filtered through the darkness, "Wouldn't help me much if some sniper took a hot shot on my way into the court house."

"You'll be protected, Tess," Steve replied non-fazed and firmly. Sometimes she was very stubborn and then he needed to handle her accordingly. "You'll be protected all the while from today on and 'till you step on the plane back to Sydney. You'll get to do your testimony in six days and then see the prick go down for life." The last part had a touch of anger to it as he thought back on Gary Gisbourne's attack two weeks ago. He could've…

"I'm just so scared, Steve…" Her voice cracked, the first deeper sign of her distress, and she was soon half-choking down a sob. His own heart broke at her misery.

"Come here," Steve said gently, urging her tenderly to turn around, and drew her into his warm embrace as soon as she had done so. The slight swell of her stomach bumped into him, reminding him of the life the woman in his arms was bearing. His baby, their baby. He had to force his mind away from that topic to concentrate on what Tessa was falteringly saying as the flood was released.

She was spilling all her present fears, sobbingly trying to explain the emotions and thoughts running through her mind. Fearing for the lives of their friends and their families; how she didn't want something to happen to any of them. How she wanted to just be free of Gisbourne forever. That she hoped he would rot in hell, along with a number of other frights.

"—and then you're dragged into this, and I don't want you to be killed to silence me just because I want justice… and then we're having a baby, and… It's just too much. I can't handle it! I just can't!"

Steve ran his hand through her hair, holding her so close he could feel the rapid beating of her heart against his ribcage. He knew most of her fears at this moment had been there since Gisbourne's attack two weeks prior. Leftovers, so to speak. But now joined by the new threat from the very same man's brother.

"Yes, you can," he reassured her, not letting her drown in her own imagination's offspring. His hand ran up and down her trembling back, massaging and rubbing gently in the tense spots he could find. Steve pulled her closer. "You're the strongest person I know, Tessa. I know you can deal with this. And I'm here for you too. You're not alone."

She sniffed loudly. "But—"

Steve cut her off before she got a chance to come up with another ridiculous excuse for not believing him. "No, no arguments. I don't want you to worry about me, I'll – no we'll be all right," he stressed, kissing her forehead and crushing her to him. "We're all going to be fine, Tessa. You, me, the baby, our friends, your mother, Guy—we're not going to die."

"If it meant my silence, Gisbourne would go to such lengths," said Tessa brokenly, sniffing back her tears. Steve's grip squeezed.

"He knows he's under surveillance, and besides, don't you think HQ has done their job? Everyone's probably been given a heads up and is just sitting around and waiting for you to nail the bastard. You wouldn't disappoint them, would you?" Cramped in his arms, Tessa could only barely shake her head, but it was the affirmation Steve needed. He kissed her hair, inhaling the sweet scent. "It's all right to be scared, Tess, it's one of those things that makes us human."

"I hate being scared. I hate not knowing what's going to happen next." If he interpreted the sharp edge to her tone correct, Tessa thought she was being childish.

Always looking down on herself over the simplest things.

"I know, I know," Steve told her. "I'm scared too, of what'll happen and might happen. But there's nothing we can do about it. We just have to deal with what we've got and not think about what we haven't got. There's no point in losing our wits over this, right?"

No answer. It must have hit base. Logic seemed to be another good way to calm her down. He'd learned that through the past five years. Someone needed to keep her down on ground level, and he'd been so lucky as to get that job.

"Look, maybe we can start planning the wedding while we're here? Get our minds on something else." He brushed his lips past her ear, hugging her gently. His voice lowered softly, "And we've got a little one to look after too, remember?"

For a while it was silent, only the occasional sniff and the slowing beat of Tessa's heart against his chest breaking through the monotony. Then she replied wryly, "How can I forget?" She sniffed but sounded better, calmer. "I'm the one subjected to fat increase and morning rituals. Not to mention swollen feet."

Even with the sharp edge to her voice, Steve couldn't help but smile at her worries. "I can always massage them," he offered, with a tad bit of slyness. "Get rid of those tensions." Someone in their common past had told him that, and Tessa must've caught up on it because it drew something akin to a chuckle out of her.

Steve was pleased to hear it. It meant she was finally coming round on the optimistic path again, starting to find the fighter within her and struggle against the pessimistic trains of thought. He wasn't very fond of these low moments of hers, but he couldn't even in his wildest dreams bring himself to leave her to it alone. So once in a while, he allowed himself to be subjected to introspection, which these moments often tended to bring on.

"Maybe later," Tessa said softly, no longer trembling. "Right now I just want you to hold me and stroke my hair until I fall asleep." Steve smiled, kissing the top of her head, all too happy to oblige. Anything to see her up and smiling again.

"Deal."

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To be continued. . .

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