So, this fic has been on hiatus for a long time, partly because I had severe writer's block and partly because Series 5, though awesome, sort of killed my head-canon about Innocent's personal life. However, I finally resolved that I had put too much time and thought in this story to abandon it completely. So I'm trudging forward into the terrifying world of Alternate Universes.

For the purposes of this story, Jean and her husband have been married for little more than ten years, and their fully-grown son Chris does not exist.

Chapter Thirteen—Misconstrued Motives

" Inspector Lewis, do you mind if I borrow your sergeant for a moment?" Harvey Malcolm asked as he poked his head in to Lewis's office the following afternoon.

James sent a pleading look in Robbie's direction that the inspector somehow didn't catch. " I suppose not. I was going to get another cup of coffee anyway."

Lewis left the room, and Malcolm shut the door firmly behind him. Hathaway had no idea of what the older man wanted, but he knew that it couldn't be anything good.

" I just want to make one thing very clear; I don't like you, sergeant, and I get the impression the feeling's mutual."

" Then, I guess you're not a complete idiot after all. That's a relief."

" Do you really think it's wise to provoke me?"

Was that a threat? Hathaway wasn't sure, but he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances so he remained silent as Malcolm continued. " I took me awhile to figure out why you seem to hate me. Of course, there's the whole Fiona mess, but that was ages ago…"

" I can still hold a grudge—can't I? What you did to her was a bit more than 'creating a mess,' and six months is hardly 'ages ago!'"

Malcolm pretended not to hear him. " Of course, I'm not here to discuss Fiona. I'm here to ask you a few questions about John Innocent's death."

" We've told you everything we know," Hathaway protested, though it wasn't strictly the truth. They hadn't told him that they had started turning their suspicion toward Malcolm himself and had started checking out his dubious alibi of being at a pub at the time of the murder.

" Oh, I don't think so. I've been doing a bit of thinking about this new suspect you've mentioned a few times. One 'Stewart Duncan.'"

" Oh, indeed," Hathaway said, pretending to be interested but secretly panicking. Was it possible that Malcolm had somehow guessed that 'Stewart Duncan' was the code name Lewis and Hathaway had been using for him?

"'Duncan' precedes his son Malcolm as King of Scotland in Shakespeare's Macbeth. American actor James 'Stewart' played the leading role in the film Harvey. You know I'm rather disappointed in you, Mr. Hathaway. Jean and Fiona have such a high opinion of your intelligence, but that was ridiculously easy. I get the impression your heart wasn't really in it; maybe you secretly wanted me to figure it out."

" No, in all honesty, we just figured you were too much an imbecile to ever read Shakespeare and too much of a pervert to watch anything other than pornography."

Malcolm took another few steps toward the sergeant. " Do you really think so little of me?"

" Any man who makes persistent inappropriate and unwanted advances towards a woman is no man but rather a rat," Hathaway replied coolly, avoiding Malcolm's gaze.

" Am I to take it that you're including yourself in this analysis?"

" If I were that sort of rat, I would willingly acknowledge it, but fortunately, I'm not. I would never stoop so low; I have very high standards, unlike you. I consider myself much more of a man than you'll ever be."

" But not enough a man to get you what you want, James."

Hathaway stared at him blankly. " What I want? You don't have the slightest idea of what I want."

" Oh, yes, I do, James; after all, it's what I want too." Seeing that Hathaway still looked confused, Malcolm clarified. " Jean."

Hathaway's first instinct was to rush out of the room and find out who had blabbed about that stupid kiss. He managed to stifle this impulse but found himself giving into his second impulse, which was to laugh.

" You can't be serious," he said when his chuckles had finally subsided.

" I'm afraid I am. The way you're always leaping to her defense, the way you start blushing nearly every time you lock eyes with her; it's obvious what's wrong with you."

Hathaway laughed again. " Well, it can't be that obvious—or I would have been aware of it myself. Innocent and I have…have hit a bit of a rough patch in our professional relationship right now, and we're both trying very hard to move past it. For pity's sake, she's…"

" An attractive, sophisticated older woman? And you're the hopelessly smitten, impressionable younger man. Come, come, it would hardly be the first time something like this has happened."

" It would be for me! Look, I don't know if this is going to make it through to that thick skull of yours, but I don't fancy Innocent. I never have—and God help me if I ever will! This is the real world—not some bloody soap opera!"

Malcolm's dark eyes narrowed as he continued to give Hathaway a very menacing glare. " Exactly, this is the real world—and she was a married woman. So, tell me, James, did you go after her husband? Did you honestly think that if you cleared that obstacle it would get her into your bed?"

The sergeant fought the temptation to tell Malcolm that Jean Innocent had—in fact—spent the past night in Hathaway's bed—though she had been alone, and it had been in an extremely platonic sense. However, he knew that making this statement was the equivalent of signing his own death sentence. "I might as well ask you the same questions. You're the one who's been harassing her!"

" I haven't been harassing her; she just needs a little push in the right direction. Poor soul seems to have forgotten how good we were together, and I'm just hoping to remind her of old times. You, on the other hand… you disgust me. You act like her faithful lapdog, simply because you want to get in her lap. You give yourself delusions of grandeur that someday she'll look at you twice. And she never will, James; I can assure of that."

Hathaway snorted." Like I'd care if she did. Look, I'm only going to say this once more, I don't have any sort of romantic feelings toward Innocent. Just because you're so bloody hot for her that doesn't mean that the rest of us are. At the time of the murder, I was here at the station talking to Jean. And our conversation was about work, mind you, not about how I want to shag the hell out of her. Because I don't, whether you believe it or not. Now, if you don't mind, I have a few questions to ask Inspector Lewis."

Without another word, Hathaway pushed past Malcolm and exited the room. He didn't stop until he found Lewis, who was deep in conversation with Innocent just outside the break room. As soon as Jean saw James, she started slightly and bid Robbie a quick goodbye.

Hathaway wanted to call her back so that he could apologize for his behavior last night. The last thing he had ever wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

But would bringing it up only make everything more awkward between them? He wasn't really sure. It was possible that Innocent herself had started subscribing to Malcolm's ridiculous theory.

He missed the way their relationship had been before deaths and kisses and obnoxious Scotland Yard officers had complicated everything. He missed the times when he'd been able to say what was truly on his mind without having to worry about being misconstrued. And though he'd faced his share of teasing on account of it, he missed being her "Boy Wonder." He'd liked knowing that he had her respect, trust, and admiration.

He doubted that he still had them, and he found it a sobering thought, though not for the reasons that Harvey Malcolm suspected.

" So what did Malcolm want?" Lewis asked finally when Hathaway had finally stopped staring into space.

" He was trying to find a way to stitch me up as our killer, if you can believe that."

" You're joking, mate. Doesn't he know that you're alibied—not to mention the fact that you'd never even met the man you've supposedly murdered?"

The sergeant shrugged slightly." At this point, I don't believe he cares."

" So, I'm curious. What's your motive?"

" The same as his, apparently."

" You mean…" Lewis asked as Hathaway nodded. " What did you tell him?"

" That I'm not the killing type and that even if I was, my interest in Jean is purely from a professional standpoint."

" Is it, James?"

The sergeant stared at him in shock. Surely, Robbie of all people! " Sir?"

" Well, I'm only saying that I can't exactly blame Malcolm for thinking that; I've wondered the same thing myself a coupla times."

" And what exactly prompted this speculation on your part?" Hathaway asked as he crossed his arms disapprovingly.

" Well…you know…the other night when you were drunk…"

" You seem to be forgetting that I was drunk on said night! I obviously had no real idea of what I was doing, or I'd never have done it."

" Still…it makes me wonder," Lewis said, the expression on his face inscrutable. "Anyway, you're lucky Malcolm doesn't know about that night, at least I don't think he does."

" He'd better not!"

" Well, if he does, I'm afraid you'll just have to deal with it. Don't worry, James. Before you know it, the case will be solved, and he'll be out of your life for good," Lewis replied as he briefly patted Hathaway on the shoulder in a reassuring manner.

" That's about the only thing keeping me sane. So…what were you and Innocent talking about before I interrupted?"

" Well, you know the funeral's this afternoon," Robbie responded as James nodded. "The chief super wants us to be there—for moral support, though there's also the added bonus of having an opportunity to further question some of Mr. Innocent's friends and associates. I ran into Jean after I'd finished my coffee; she was waiting around, hoping to catch one of us on our own. You see, she doesn't want Malcolm finding out that we're going to the funeral and crashing it. She's told Harvey that she isn't inviting any of her colleagues in the hopes of dissuading him. If he asks where we're going at three p.m., you're to tell him that I have an urgent doctor's appointment and that you're driving me –as I'm unsure that I'll be able to operate a car after the doctor performs the 'necessary tests.'"

Hathaway raised a skeptical eyebrow. " Do you really think he'll buy it?"

" Course not, but it's worth a try at least."

" Oh, and before I forget, when you were looking through Innocent's old cases, did you come across any mention of a Richard Trout?"

Lewis shook his head." No, I don't think so. Why?"

" Jean mentioned him last night, and I got the impression that whoever he was, he'd had a major impact on her. But don't worry if you don't find anything; from what she told me, it sounds like he's dead anyway. I was…was just worried about her, I guess."

" Oh, I…I see." They started walking back to Lewis's office in silence before the inspector spoke again. "James, you do know that I was only joking about the whole you-fancying-Innocent-thing earlier?"

" Of course, I do," said Hathaway, though he didn't sound totally convinced.

So, sort of a brief random chapter, but I needed transition. Still, it's the first time that I've updated in five months so that has to count for something!