Sitting in stunned silence for a while, neither really knew what to say. Worried before, they were shit scared now. Amy sat on Evan's couch, her head in her hands as she contemplated going into work. For a few moments, to calm herself, she tried to imagine herself back in Mt Thomas.

Seemed like Evan was imagining the same thing. "This sort of stuff never happened in Mt Thomas," he sighed, looking pointedly at her. She stared back at him through the gaps in her fingers, as her hands still hiding her face away. "I don't think I ever saw more than a few grams of heroin there." He chuckled sadly to himself.

It made Amy chuckle sadly to herself as well. She nodded in agreement, no strength to actually say any words. They sat side by side on Evan's couch for several more minutes before either actually spoke.

"I called Alex," Amy whispered, confiding yet again in her old mate. She flopped back onto the couch as everything that she'd said into the phone that night came flooding back.

Evan's face suddenly softened in sympathy for her. He knew she was having a hard time with their split, and it probably being the reason she was so stressed about work. "And?" he asked, unsure if he should interfere.

She sighed sadly, trying not to let it show too much. "He didn't call back."

He reached over and patted her hand. "I'm sorry Amy."

She shrugged, perhaps finally accepting that it wasn't meant to be. She and Alex would never grow old together.

By lunchtime, Amy and Evan had managed to drag themselves into work, after avoiding it for as long as they could. Nobody had called asking them urgently to come in, so they knew they weren't missed. But as Amy walked inside she got the distinct feeling some people had noticed her absence that morning.

She and Evan hurried along the hallway to her office, which he had taken up residence in for the time being also. They sat on either sides of the desk, facing each other and fidgeting mercilessly with the objects that cluttered Amy's desk. It was all beginning to get to them.

"We need to tell somebody." It was all Evan could come up with.

"Who the hell do we tell Evan?! Who the fuck is left?!" Amy exclaimed, instantly regretting blowing her stack. She apologised immediately. "I'm sorry Jonesy," she said, closing her eyes briefly. "I just don't know what to do."

He didn't seem to have anything to say to that, and luckily hadn't been offending at her swearing at him.

Amy shrugged her shoulders for the second time that day, feeling utterly useless. "I mean…" she stuttered, flustered and worried. "I just don't know who I can trust anymore. I don't even know if I'm on the straight and narrow anymore!" her head went into her hands again.

"Of course you are Amy," Evan soothed. "But there must be someone…"

"Who is left?" she asked again, staring profusely at him, "Who is left that we can trust? How we do we even know that anyone in this building is not bent?!" She pushed her fingers into her eyes, her tiredness overwhelming her.

She leant forward, realising the need to educate Jonesy to the full potential needed. "Have you realised that we are the only two coppers in this place that live in tiny flats, on the bottom floors, with the cheapest rent?" She made him look her in the eye. "That we drive old cars, and alternate the same half dozen outfits every week?"

Evan slowly began to nod, fully realising the scale of the situation they had suddenly found themselves dumped into. Amy pressed on. "We are unique here Evan. If you and I were bent, we would have bigger houses, that's for sure."

"So what do we do?" he asked, hoping against hope that she would have an answer, as he had always known her to.

"I don't know." She stared out her office window as she replied sadly. Arrangements were still being made for Ned's funeral, despite him being shot by one of their own.