Strolling into the 'Interviewing room' (yep, still the Lost & Found closet - one of the few things that Sam hadn't managed to change during his time with the A Division in 1973) the DI let out a light sigh, accompanied with a sympathetic and daunting smile in the direction of one Mike Smith.

Sitting himself not so comfortably in a hard, plastic, black chair opposite the man whilst getting his tape recorder firmly into gear, placing his pens, pencils and note book in a repetitive order, the same method adopted by most of the robots from 'Hyde', Sam noticed the dark circles under Mike's eyes, the frowning lips and creased forehead, all common signs of a worried, angst ridden mind.

Sam Tyler recognised this because Sam Tyler had been there before. One too many times before.

Folding his arms in front of his chest, Sam leant back in his chair, as far as he could, alert yet trying to put his client at some much needed ease by his casual posture. Mimicking the Inspectors actions, Mike listened to Sam address the tape with details of whom was in the room.

"Is that, ummm, legal?" the voice shivered, a naked man in the North Pole.

Sam nodded before getting down to some much needed business. "Now, Mr. Smith, could you please tell me when was the last time you saw your wife, Mrs. Jillian Smith?"

Mike's eyes were clearly fixed on the table in front of him; he was unable to maintain any sort of eye contact with the thinner man. Sam, seeing the good in most people (or at least using the philosophy innocent until proven guilty, not that that method was required in this interview) put his actions down to a hazy, sleep deprived body that could really be doing without a lot of fuss and questioning whilst knowing this was a completely necessary practise. "Two days ago. I left the house early to go to work, like always. Being a van driver and all, it's essential to beat some of the traffic."

"Do you want to play cars, Sammy? Brum brum, c'mon son!"

Quivering, Sam pricked himself, pushing the similar male voice out of his mind. "Tell me, how was Jillian that morning?"

Mike's answer was secure, as if it had been repeated over and over again before now. "A little tired. She'd been up all night, treating about Aislin. Both of them were crying a lot. Jillian couldn't breast feed her properly. She was shaking when she was changing her nappy. She was angry and frustrated, saying that she didn't know why she got pregnant in the first place."

"Isn't that great, Sammy? You're going to have your first ever cousin! It'll be great, Mummy being an Aunty and you being her older cousin. You'll be so close, it'll be more like brother and sister!"

"Yes. Well, um, where was she going?" Sam retorted the mind games, images of the so called passed plaguing his line of though as he fidgeted in his seat. Mike - being a little more than just on edge - took the louder speech as a sign of annoyance by the other man.

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU!"

The stamping of feet, scraping of metal against wood and screaming of perturbed words encouraged DCI Hunt to make his presence felt; he'd be stumbling behind the selves of Lost and Found (as quietly as humanly possible for a man of his size) deciding that it would be best for his Inspector to deal with this himself.

Alas, the notion of a scuffle was too much for the nicotine stained copper to ignore.

"Mr. Smith, I suggest you si' down and answer my Detective Inspector politely when questioned or you might be finding yourself on a charge."

Almost grateful that Gene had come to his aide, Sam nodded to him. His arms still plastered to his body, he continued his inquiries once Hunt took his usual stance near the small cell window, the only thing in the room offering any sign of light whilst Mike took his seat, regaining his pose.

"Mr. Smith, where was Jillian going with Aislin?" Sam's reiterating of the question made Hunt fold his arms too, his ears pricked for any notions of deliberations.

"To visit my Mother." Mike's reply was hesitant, almost timid. Gene cocked an eyebrow as Sam decided to continue, thinking in almost naivety that it was just the situation doing this to the man; he'd already expressed his distaste for the police, in a round about fashion.

"Bloody cops - always trying to stick their noses into other folks business!"

"And you've heard absolutely nothing from her since then?"

After a long pause, Mike's response was negative, barely audible and indecisive. By this time, Mr. Hunt was becoming a little tiresome with Sam's implementation of the 'softly softly' approach. He wanted some firm answers. And right there and then.

"Smith, are you sure that no one would want to kill your wife?"

Sam growled; an Alsatian locked in a barbed wired cage, trying to reach the carcass on the other side. The past ten minutes, not to mention the half an hour from last night, of carefully chosen words and deep concern were wasted in that one sentence carelessly passed by the Governor.

Unable to take the idea of accusations such as them, Mike buried his head in his hands, sobbing openly for the whole world to see. Hunt sneered at this. In reality, he didn't want to offend the man, far from it; it was possible that he was the teams only lead in the whole investigation.

Yet, unbeknownst to a fatigued and logical Inspector, there was something that seemed false about Mr. Mike Smith, a little too artificial for the Gene Genie to just ignore without some hardcore questioning.

The sight and sounds of his 'Uncle' crying were too much to bear for Sam. Getting up from his seat, Tyler wrapped a comforting arm around Mike, noting the cold air that whirled around him the second their bodies connected. He shook himself, now crouched before the new Father.

"We're not trying to imply anything, Mr. Smith, but we are just concerned because of all of the women at present who are going missing before being found...ummm..."

"Dead as dodos."

The Guv's blatantly obnoxious taunts and cigarette inhaling ways had finally struck a chord with Sam. Marching with no inhabitations of intimidation what so ever, the DI put nose to nose with the slighter taller man, now on tip toes.

"When will you learn to keep your bloody mouth shut?!"

Gene cackled. It was like adding gasoline to an open fire. Slamming Detective Inspector Tyler hard, unforgiving brick work, the sound of ribs cracking could be detected. The grasps of the collar made him struggle for breath, the DCI's body so close to his he could barely move his chest as he tried to gather what ever speck of oxygen available to him. "Look 'Sammy Boy' some of us want to close this case now rather than waiting for the turn of the next Millennium!"

"I do." Sam panted, his speech barely audible; Gene really was too close for comfort.

"Well then, start acting like it!"

"I am - it's not my fault that you have to barge in here, intimidating everyone as if you're the bogeyman or something! Start showing people some re-..."

Sam groaned. "Oh my God." Mike had scampered out of the room, tape recorder in hand. That was the first indication to Sam of something very suspicious, systematically wrecking his chance of solving the case. Gene, realising where his DI's gaze lay, turned around, dropping him to the floor in a hasty and unconcerned fashion. After all, he had just yelled at him, the Gene Genie, Detective Chief Inspector of Manchester's A Division.

"Blimey! C'mon, don't just si' there - move, move, move!"

Sam, struggling for any breath to help him struggle through the day, pulled himself up as gently as possible, trying not to bang his injured midriff against the wall or any other fixtures of furniture, catching up with Gene at his normal jogging pace. They clambered down the stairs, looking everywhere; Mike Smith was not to be found easily.

"Bloody hell!" Sam cried. He dropped himself onto the concrete steps, hunched over; he was certain that it would be more by luck than judgement if he wasn't suffering from cracked ribs.

Hunt returned from his prolonged pacing, his eyes narrowed, squinting in annoyance and as a method of blocking out the strangely bright summer sun. Now sitting beside Sam, he noticed that his DI was in a great amount of pain, which he did actually truly regret inflicting on him. However, someone with pride like the Gene Genie was in no mood to apologise.

A few moments of near silence passed quickly, all that could be heard was Tyler's uncomfortable wheezing and shallow, sharp breaths. The superior officer was the first one to speak.

"Now what to we do?"

Sam chuckled wearily and sarcastically at that last inquiry. "Dunno."

The younger man's simple and rather short reply took an unsuspecting Gene Hunt by surprise. "You're meant to be the boy wonder from Hyde."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, and I was making progress before you stuck your nose in!"

"Me? Sticking me nose in? I was stopping it all before you found yourself with a black eye and a running nose!"

"I would have considered myself lucky - that's miles better than cracked ribs!"

Gene grunted at the last notion, rolling his eyes and snapping his knuckles, making the most disgusting sound that Sam had just been forced to be subjected to just moments ago. Tyler was still bent over, his rib cage giving him a severe amount of grief. "Give over - I never hit you that 'ard!"

Sam chocked back laughter...and blood. He was certainly in no mood for meaningless banter right now.

Watching the thinner man heave himself up, with a vast amount of effort and vexation, Gene joined him, surprisingly swiftly. "Where you goin' now?"

"Back inside - we've still got a case to solve, even if you have just pissed away one of the only means of help."

Walking back into CID shoulder to shoulder, at least an illusion that they were both on the same page, Sam's pain etched face attracted the attention of someone who was to take a great deal of trepidation over the matter.

Annie came over to them, lacing a hand against Sam's shoulder, clutching a couple of files with the other. "Are you ok?" she bent down a little, to force her boyfriend to look into her eyes as a non verbal sign to tell her that he was ok.

He grimaced, trying to stand a little straighter. She helped, guessing that the man beside her, still cracking his knuckled, had something to do with it; she and the rest of the gaggle at the station had heard the commotion coming out from Lost and Found, wondering what it all meant.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he breathed inwardly, a certain sense of relief brought to the brunettes worried complexion.

Gene groaned, annoyed to be hearing all of the 'lovey dovey shit' within an ear shot. "Have you got anything relevant to the case Cartwright other than how big the DI's dick is?"

Sam tutted at the last remark, Annie doing her best to ignore it as she revealed what she knew to the DCI. "Ok, well, it's probably nothing b-but..."

The deliberations coming from the Plonk quickly exasperated Gene; he could tell that she was anxious, her hand was shaking a little, as if she was intimidated by him and the revelations she had behind her lips acting as a solid wall. "C'mon, spit it out!"

Thrusting the papers into the more understanding of the two's grasps seemed like the wiser thing to do to Cartwright. Sam's eyes tapered, much like Gene's had done moments before. "Oh my God." his response was slight but deliberate, the focus taken off the pain in his chest and onto the scribbles before him. His mouth gaping, his head discouraged with the contents.

Yet, it brought the Detective a great sense of positive energy; if what he was reading was true, real (as real as life could ever be), it may have been a major advancement in the case.

"Guv?" his voice was uneven, like a rocky roadside, unsure if the hard man would find this at all relevant, or even want to hear it.

Hunt returned from his smoke ridden, yellow tinged office, Cortina keys and a rather large bacon butty (which Sam would later find out he'd stolen from an unsuspecting Chris) on his person, Gene looked ready for business...especially with the dribble of ketchup and butter down his dimpled chin.

"Explain in the car." Gene's gruff voice replied, tapping the younger man on the arm as a notion to go to his beloved motor as if he really did have a sixth sense.

Smiling sincerely to his girl before heading off to find the Guv, stumbling because of the ache still attached to his stomach as if he was dragging the bloody Test Card Girl everywhere he went (the sight of her made him feel sick), he pulled himself into the vehicle, Gene glaring at him.

"Well?"

Tyler handed him the paper, now being the one awaiting an answer.

"So?"

Gene wasn't very good at reading. Some days Sam swore he was dyslexic...or just very, very unobservant. "So, whoever's doing this, is aiming his target at the sixth house in alphabetical order by street names in Manchester. Guv, Mr. Smith and his family, I know, live at number six Gretna Road. I suggest I go down there, talk to Mike - alone - and then we have a little look around his property, to see what's happening."

A prolonged and baited breath silence for Sam forced him to inhale quickly, Gene still deliberating how to answer the last statement. "Why just you going to speak to 'im?"

'Must be tactful'. Sam mused, clamping his eyes together lightly and lazily whilst the sun danced amongst his lashes; for that moment, he felt more at peace then he had done for ages, at least in the past couple of days. And he had no idea why. 'Perhaps another drug.'

"Oi, Gladys's." Gene's loud speech interrupted his DI's deserted deliberations as he snapped his fingers dangerously close to his face. Sam shook, awaking once again.

"What?"

"Why just you goin' to speak to 'im?"

Sam smirked a little, knowing that his next sentence would piss his boss off big time. "Coz I know a little more about, ummm, diplomatic conversations than you."

His eyes on stalks as if he'd seen the biggest pair of tits the world had to offer, Gene slammed on the pedals, the Cortina almost leaving tyre marks on the road as he sped down the road at the speed of light, ignoring DI Tyler's last poignant remark.

But would Sam - or Gene - be able to get any joy from Mike Smith and his residence?

Check back for more, soon!

Hey! Just want to say a major thank you to JudasFM, crazytellyaddict, Futuristic-dudette, bigmelinafan, xX-Silver-and-cold-Xx, Mindless Image and losttimelady who all took the time to read and review the last chapter - hope ya'll like this update!

Ele