Everyday there's a New Age in someone's life

'I'd be back as soon as I can.' Craig assured him with a deep sigh, feeling at himself his burning gaze as he kept putting his things to the suitcase. They'd had discussed it a few times already, but it looked like his lover hadn't agree with him at some conditions and was still angry at him. 'John Paul…' He added warningly as the man huffed behind his back and if he hadn't known he had a big hangover over the last night and they were just after the argue, he'd already slap him on the head. 'I'm not doing this to piss you off, alright?' He slowly turned around and settled his eyes at his annoyed lover. 'It's my job.'

'You're not supposed to be seen at the station till they don't catch the guy who sent you that bloody pack!' He snapped, his voice sounded a bit higher than usual.

'John Paul, we have a serial killer on the run and you're saying me to hide in the house?!' He barked, finally losing his patience. 'I'm a policeman. A Superintendent for God's Sake!'

'You think it'd change anything if they find you dead one day?' His crystal blue eyes gazed at him with anger, the firsts tears shone in the corners of eyes.

'You know the risk, John.' He replied softer and carefully approached his boyfriend, didn't want to startle him. 'There's always going to be someone who would wish me dead and maybe one day try to fulfill it.' He gently laid his hand on John Paul's shoulder and squeezed it. 'Both of us are constantly in danger, but does it mean we're hiding?' His eyes became more watery and Craig was sure he was close to cry. 'It's only one stupid meeting with Cole and then I'd be back. In one piece.' He stretched his arms out with a wide smile.

'You'd stay for a night in town. Alone.' John Paul didn't give up, eyeing him up intently. His lovely blue eyes got the deep gray shade, reminding Craig the sea just before the upcoming storm.

'I'd be there with Chubby. I want to check if he's alright.' He replied with another soft smile. 'You know Mrs. Harvard, she's not used to have around such a well-behaved cat, and she doesn't has any clue how to take care about his fur. Her all strays are looking like they just left the cesspool.' He wished he could leave Chubby in better hands, but John Paul would never agree to lose half of his salary for the animal hotel, and he wouldn't have a heart to leave him under Myra's care as his boyfriend suggested. He'd pay thousands for pills to get rid of his trauma.

'We should be thankful she decided to take care of him. This cat hardly accepts anyone... Just like his owner.' He snorted, but finally relaxed a bit. 'Why I can't go there with you? I'm working on that case, too.'

'Because someone needs to keep an eye at my family and Darren, when I'm not around.' He explained him slowly. 'Whoever is stalking me, already found out I'm here, and I don't want anyone to be hurt…And besides there was not else invited for the meeting except me. I guess only superiors have been asked to come down.'

'You can ask Cole to send someone.' But he insisted, reminding Craig that his boyfriend is a true blood McQueen and doesn't know word "no".

'I rather deal with it on my own.' John Paul glanced at him heavily and pushed his hand from his shoulder, like a moody kid who just doesn't get what's he want.

'Call me when you'd be on the place.' He said gloomily and sat down on the armchair with crossed arms against his chest, from where he kept watching his boyfriend.

'Of course.' Craig smiled slightly, enjoying his small victory. 'But don't get mad when I don't pick up my phone during the meeting.' He warned him. Knowing John Paul he'd call him every five minutes, checking if he's still alive.

'Maybe you should take a train?' He suddenly suggested and shifted on the armchair.

'Why would I do that, if I have a car with myself?' He cocked an eyebrow at him and threw a toothpaste on the top of two shirts he has decided to take in case if he'd pour something on the one he's wearing (or would be smear with his own blood, as his omnivorous boyfriend said).

'It's just safer. There's a lot of people around and it's less likely there would be any accident.' He shrugged off, without daring to look into Craig's chocolate eyes.

'No one sabotaged my car, John. Just take a deep breath and stop bother. Before you realize I'd be back for the wedding. Just keep an eye at my mum and Steph, and that's all I'm asking you about. I'd inform you, if I get any news about the cases.'

'Just be careful.' Craig tilted above his worried boyfriend and kissed the top of his head, knowing how much it costs him to let him go. 'And come back as quickly you can.'

'I will.' He promised and stepped back as there was a soft knock on the door and moment later his mother came in. 'Well, I'm almost off.' He informed her with a slight smile and turned toward the bed to close his suitcase.

'Are you sure you manage to come back for the wedding?' She asked worried.

'I'm sure, mum.' He nodded and took a hold of his baggage. 'I wouldn't miss that.' He smirked and kissed her on the cheek.

'John Paul's not going with you?' She asked surprised as she looked down at the other man still sitting on the armchair with gloomy face.

'He can't.' Craig replied shortly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, so he could manipulate her body toward the door. 'If you insist you can lead me to the car. I'm a bit late, mum.'

'So your other colleagues staying in here, too?' She asked with resigned face. 'I don't want to complain all the time…'

'But you're exactly doing that, mum.' He finished for her with a smirk, ignoring her hard stare.

'Firstly someone ruined my garden and your bedroom, and now the ginger one broke my favorite plates and ate the cake I made for tomorrow.'

'I'm sorry, mum. I'd talk with them about that, but as you see I'm a bit busy at the moment.' He lifted his suitcase and significantly shook it in his hand in front of her face. 'Talk with Darren. They're his guests, so he's responsible for every damage they'd do in your house…Besides they should be off in hour. They're supposed to work today.'

'Well, that's the problem, because I didn't see your brother from yesterday morning.' His mother said with a stern face. 'I thought maybe you know where he is.'

'Maybe he's at Hannah?' He suggested with a frown. 'To be honest I didn't see him since the last night…But I'm sure Jake knows where he is. They both spent most of the night together.'

'But, he doesn't has any clue. He said he has passed about midnight.' She hardly stopped herself from comment her oldest son's confession.

'Oh.' Craig stopped at the track and looked worried at his upset mother. 'Well, I'm sure he's around. We didn't see Hannah too, so I'm sure they have to be together.'

'I'm sure Susan would tell me if he was in her house. You know he's not supposed to see with her before the wedding day.'

'Oh, really? And where's write that?' Craig asked with a snort. 'I thought Susan knows we live in twenty-one century.'

'Hannah is Susan's daughter and we should respect her rules. Especially in her house.' His mother said firmly, accenting the last words.

'And if Susan tells us to jump out the window, we should do that, too?' He asked fiercely and roughly pushed the door of the pub wide open. 'Mum, stop threatening her like some bloody Queen! Because she has money, doesn't mean we're worse than her.'

'I've never said that!'

'But you're giving us that impression, when you confess repentantly over her.' He snapped, never understand how his mother could be a friend of this witch.

'We'll discuss it later, son.' Like always she dismissed him. 'Now, calm down, you're going to drive your car for few good hours and you need to be relaxed and focus on the road.'

'Don't worry, mum, I'll be fine.' Craig rolled his eyes as she pulled him into hug and kissed on the cheek, threatening him like a boy, not an adult man. 'Mum!' He yelled, embarrassed.

'Just be careful, Craig. And phone me when you only get on the place.'

'You know I always do, mum.' He said with resigned sigh and opened the passenger's door to threw his suitcase on the seat. 'Now, excuse me but I have to go. I'm already late.' He added as he looked down at his wristwatch.

'You're always in hurry.' Frankie muttered and shook slightly when her son closed the door of the car with a loud tap. 'Call me.' She repeated, knowing how forgetful Craig can be when he has to remember about things not connected with his work.

'Bye, mum.' He said shortly, his hand gripped tighter on the steering wheel, barely stopping himself from shout at her. He lit the engineer and for the last time he looked at the first floor only to see his boyfriend standing in the window in his bedroom as he kept watching him with a hurt face. For a short moment Craig hesitated, having a second thought. He was ready to jump out off the car and run back to John Paul, to wrap his arms around him and stay with him forever… But they both knew it wasn't right, he has to do what he has been appointed to do. There was no buts, no second thoughts. If he seriously though about having a kid with John Paul, he needs to ensure an adequate standard of living for them and make sure that financially they'd be able to meet the requirements for the adoption…Not likely to say he loved his job and couldn't imagine himself to do anything else.

With heavy heart he backed up his car at the local road and with screeched sound drove down the street, hoping that the far he'd be from the home, the less he'd feel guilty.

A bouquet of four, beautiful red roses wrapped in a white paper have been placed neatly on the table, in front of him. He jerked his head up above the bowl of cornflakes he has been eating for the last few minutes, and looked quizzically at the squealing over him blonde woman.

'It's for you!' She said so excitedly, like it was her who got them as a present, and clapped her hands together. 'Aren't they beautiful?!' She twirled and sat down on the free chair, couldn't wait for the man's reaction, which never came. He just kept sitting there with unreadable face; calm and surprised.

'From who?' He put the spoon down and carefully grabbed the flowers to inspect them further.

'There's only small card with your name written on it.' She replied and moved with a chair closer to the man, so their heads almost would knock together, if he hadn't pull back in time with annoyed face. 'Aww, I wouldn't think Darren can be so romantic.' She rested a chin or her hands and looked ahead with dreamy eyes, already drowned in her own little world. Spike gently slipped the small card off her fingers, and looked at it with frown.

'It's not Darren's writing.' He stated as he looked closer at the black, unfamiliar letters written in cursive. 'He's writing it's a chaotic mess.' He smirked and threw a card on the table.

'Well, it's not either our Niall.' Then she suddenly squealed excited, her blue eyes brightened. 'You have a secret admirer!' She almost put a finger into his eye as she pointed at him with a big grin and jumped at her seat. 'Ah, I'm so happy for you!'

'You even don't know who sent them to me.' Spike grunted and looked at the roses without enthusiasm. 'And I already have someone I care for.'

'Oh, but are you sure he feels the same way?' She suddenly asked with unsure face.

'Well, he's here, with me.' He raised his eyebrows in a mocking way.

'If it's enough for you…' She muttered and looked down at her manicured nails.

'What that supposed to mean?!' His eyes darkened with anger.

'I'm sure you can find a better boyfriend, than Darren. He's, well, new to everything and I'm not so sure if he knows what's he really want.' She explained with a soft sigh and put a hand on top of Spike's. 'I'm not getting a vibe he's loving you as much as you wish he would.' She added with a soft voice, her eyes looked deeply into man's eyes with tenderness. 'I don't want to hurt you…' She moaned, when Spike violently took his hand back and rested it on his knee, so she couldn't see they were shaking with nerves. '…But you have to admit, he's messed up.'

'Thanks for your concern, Carmel, but honestly we're doing great. He changed, and…and he deserves a second chance, if I already got one.' She smiled sympathetically at him.

'You're too harsh for yourself. You can do…'

'It's better when we stop right there.' Spike said hurriedly as someone began walking down the stairs. 'I'd put the roses into vase.' He muttered and grabbed the bouquet of flowers before he walked off the kitchen.

'Is it true?' In the last moment he stopped in the track, avoiding the collision with angry Niall who has grown up in front of him in a lab coat and stethoscope swinging around his neck.

'Sorry?' Spike asked confused as he tried to read anything in the man's dark eyes, but Niall immediately looked down. His face broke into ironic smirk, a quiet snarl left his mouth as he couldn't believe his own eyes. 'Niall? Would you tell me, what…'

'Well, I see it is true. Don't bother to answer me.' The man snarled again and for a short moment Spike could see his dark eyes filled with sadness, before he tried to pass by him.

'Niall, wait!' Spike grabbed for his arm with a free hand. There was no way he'd let him go without explanations.

'For what?' Is there anything to talk about?' He still didn't understand Niall's outburst; he was confused and shocked, it's not a Niall he knows. 'You didn't learn anything past the last months. You've doing the same mistake once again.' He grabbed for the hand Spike had roses in and gave it a long look. 'Maybe some of us need to cross the river two times to learn anything.' Now, there was no doubt what exactly caused anger in John Paul's brother, although Spike couldn't understand why he would be. He has never gave him any expression that he'd be interested with him more than a friend, yet the rest of McQueen's family was doing everything to set them up. He sighed with frustration hating himself for letting them give the man a hope that they could be together. If he was more assertive, he'd never find himself in situation like this one, and Niall wouldn't get hurt.

'Look, Niall, I know you're worrying about me and I'm thankful for everything you have done for me, but it's my life and I'm the one who makes a choices. If I want to give Darren another chance, I'll do that, even if I know I can end hurt again.'

'And you will.' Niall snarled. The confidence in his voice, hurt him, but he hadn't let himself show that.

'But it's mine decision.' Spike said firmly and pat his chest to emphasize his words. 'And I know I'd regret later if I didn't give Darren a chance.' The other man was doing everything to not look into his eyes. 'I love him.'

'Right.' Niall muttered with suppressed voice and violently pushed past Spike, couldn't listen to him anymore. It was too much for him. 'You'd regret it.' The younger man didn't say nothing back, only moved toward the stairs, wishing he could lock himself up in the room and wake up when everything would be over.

Missy JJ was getting under her skin more with each step she's taking down the street. She was acting like a bloody queen, like she was owning the whole place, while it was Marie who has been here first. She should know better to not start a fight with her. It's only matter of time, before she'd put Missy JJ on her properly place.

Stupid cow.

'With your swinging moods, you wouldn't get anyone tonight, sweetheart!' Missy JJ cooed from the other side of the street, flashing her crooked teeth in the light of the street lamp.

'Men love hot-blooded women like me!' She yelled back. 'But what you might know about that, eh? Dead body has more charisma than you.' She smiled triumphal as she wiped her bloody smirk off the face. 'Ah, did I touch the nerve?'

'You wish!'

They kept arguing for a few good minutes, ready to jump to each other's throat when each of them have stopped at the corner; only few steps of dark asphalt between them. Marie was thinking about the good strategy how to attack Missy JJ, so she wouldn't have a chance to fight back, when loud, thrilling scream resounded on the street, effectively cooling their aggression.

'What was that?' Missy JJ asked and looked quizzically at her.

'What, you're deaf, stupid cow?!' She snapped back like always playing cool, although she could feel the cold sweat running down her back and her body seemed to frozen on the spot. 'Someone scream.' She added calmer while her companion didn't even blink. Another scream echoed on the street, making them almost cry with horror. Without second thought they almost ran at each other, and stood arm to arm as they kept looking around the street.

'I think it comes out from there.' Missy JJ stated and pointed out of the narrow alley between two tenement houses. 'Oy, where are you going?!' She cried when Marie just simple began walking down the street at the direction she has shown moment earlier.

'To check what's going on there. It was woman's voice. Maybe one of us got a rough client and need our help.'

'Or maybe that's the serial killer they're talking about.' She whispered and quickly covered her mouth like she was afraid that he might hear her. 'Don't go there!'

'Maybe you're right…' Marie stopped on the track and wrapped arms around herself. 'But we need to do something! Maybe we should call police?'

'Are you stone?!' Missy JJ squealed helplessly and grabbed for her arms. She shook her violently with hope she'd help her get her sense back. 'Before they show up, the guy would be already gone, and instead they'd arrest us.' She knew she had a point, but when she heard another cry for help, she couldn't just stand there. She pushed Missy JJ back and continued ran down the street. 'You're insane!'

'I didn't tell you to follow me.' Marie said as she heard the rhythmical taps of high-heels behind herself. 'You could stay.'

'We should better stick together, in case if it's the killer.' Missy JJ said in whisper. 'He'll not be able to fight us both down.' Her self-assurance tone of voice, calmed Marie a bit and she felt more confident, when she turned into the alley. She barely made a few steps, when she suddenly frozen to the spot.

A young man with a hood over his head and shawl wrapped tightly around his face was standing above the sobbing, curled into embryo woman. He stubbed her with one of his foot, something silver flashed in the darkness, making the woman whimper and beg him helplessly to let her go. Marie couldn't move or speak. She was petrified, already knowing what would come next.

'Police! Police!' She almost get heart attack when Missy JJ cried behind her like a hurt animal, her long nails colored in red, painfully buried in her shoulders. The man jumped back from his victim and in one swing move turned around and began run away, toward the other end of the alley. 'Stop!' Without second thought Marie ran after the man and kept yelling at the whole neighborhood with hope that someone would help her.

The man was quick and slim and Marie's chances to catch him decreased with his each step, until the high wall of metal fence blocked his way. She smirked under her nose, sensing a chance. The guy jumped at the garbage pails and tried to climb on the other side of the fence, when Marie got him. She grabbed for his shawl and with furious pulled back for it with hope he'd fall back. But he was stronger than she has given him credit for, and before she realized he was on the other side of the alley, and she has been left with a shawl in her hand and Missy JJ screaming behind her back. She swore under her breath and kicked the fence, when the man disappeared in the darkness.

'Police!' She rolled her eyes and sighed frustrated as Missy JJ kept yelling like a broken record, ready to wake up the whole town. She pushed the shawl into the pocket of her leather jacket and jogged back to her companion to shut her up.

'Instead of yelling at the whole street, use your bloody phone and call help, you idiot!' Marie snapped at her and walked over to the crying woman who was now sitting at the cold asphalt and was hiding her head in arms. 'Are you okay?' She asked softly and tilted over her. 'He's gone, love.'

'I was going home when this man…' The rest of the words turned into loud sob. 'I was so scared…'

'It's okay, you're safe now.' Marie wrapped arms around her and rocked her slightly. 'Did you call them?' She asked sharply, while she darted her eyes toward Missy JJ.

'Yes! They're on their way.' She snapped back, feeling sick; the last thing she was dreaming about today its spend a night in arrest.

'Did you see his face?' Marie asked softly hidden in her arms woman. 'Anything what could help police find him?'

'I don't know…It was dark, he was dark, everything was dark!' She muffled into her top before start cry again and shake uncontrollably. 'He wanted to take my wallet and phone.'

'Then you should give it to him. You didn't have any chances with him.' She said firmly, a bit of coolness in her words.

'I couldn't move! I was scared!' She cried, new flow of tears rolled down her cheeks.

'The ambulance and police are coming.' Missy JJ announced as she noticed a familiar lights at the end of the street and the sound of sirens resounded around. 'Marie leave her, we need to go before they come here.'

'We can't leave her! We're the only witnesses! Besides you called them, so there won't be any problem to chase you down as they have your number in system.' Marie informed with a smirk and encouraged woman to stand up.

'Oh, thanks! Shame you hadn't told me that earlier!' Missy JJ yelled frustrated. 'You bloody cow!' If not the situation they both had found themselves in, she'd amazing, knowing that cow gets what she has been asking for.

'Better give me your hand, will you?' She wrapped an arm around shaking woman and was trying to steady her, but her violently shaking legs hadn't cooperate. 'JJ!'

'Alright! I'm coming!' She rolled eyes and with one hand took a hold of woman's right arm before she rested it on her own shoulders, while the second gripped firmly around her waist. 'Thank God, she's not fat.'

'Thank God you have a bit of pity in yourself.' Marie said back annoyed and maneuvered the woman out of the street at the same time as the ambulance stopped at the pavement. 'Now, they'd take care of you.' She said to the crying girl, when paramedics left the car and ran toward them.

'Yea, while them would take care of us.' Missy JJ muttered unhappy and turned her head toward two policemen walking over them with a pair of handcuffs in hands. 'You heard me?' She looked at the woman over her shoulder. 'Marie?' But she didn't answer, only darted her eyes at the part of shawl poking out of the pocket of her jacket, in the light of the nearest street lamp.

When he stepped inside the small, cozy room at the attic and looked around, he felt that something wasn't alright. He wasn't sure at first what gave him that impression, but the more he was studying the bedroom, the more he understands what hit him.

It doesn't look like a typical room belonging to the bride.

On the middle of the bed was lying neatly folded pile of clothes, just next to the big, pink suitcase on wheels- now almost packed. There was no perfumes or cosmetics on the dressing table, and a white dress Hannah and their mother have been searching for weeks was untouched hanging lonely on the door of the wardrobe.

He needed explanation, no he demand it! But there was no sign of the young bride in the room; the only person who could put a light on the whole situation.

'Well, she's not there…' He almost forgot he dragged with himself Jake who was standing behind his back now.

'I already noticed that!' He spat back and irate looked at his friend above the shoulder. 'And still it doesn't explain this!' He stretched his arm out toward the bed, while his eyes kept staring back at Jake's face like he was hoping he'd answer for bothering him questions. Tell him it doesn't look like he thinks it is. But Jake stayed silent, and was darting his eyes around the room with hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, like he was trying to avoid his intensive stare.

'Do you think she's already packing up for honeymoon?' He tried once again with a chocked chuckle, but the idea of turning everything into joke, doesn't seem to work at all. At least not for him, as he thought about it for longer.

'Well, you know women.' Jake tried to grin, but his face turned more into painful grimace than smile. 'They always get insane when they have to do something, and they're always want to tie everything up the sooner they can. ' They shared a silly smiles and nod of heads, although they both knew it doesn't has anything to do with the situation, here. But any of them dare to say it loud. It was just…unbelievable. His mind couldn't accept it, not after the weeks of feverish preparations for the wedding day. Not after seeing them being so happy for the last months.

'So, where they're going to spend their honeymoon?' It was a safe question, the one you can talk about even when the awkward silent again slipped between you, and any of you is sure what to do with that.

'Don't have any idea.' Jake replied with a shrug, unconsciously bringing back the anxiety his friend felt, since he stepped inside the small room.

'He's your brother…' He prompted, a big gulp formed in his throat.

'And she's your sister.' Jake said back, and nervously shifted on his feet, didn't like the way the conversation was going on. 'You're closer than me and Darren.'

'Fair point.' He nodded, feeling even more worse. If indeed they were so close, Hannah would already has told him about this. Told him she'd has problems.

He felt guiltiness overwhelm his mind, while the familiar warmness washed over his body, when Jake rested his hand on his shoulder, with worried face.

'Look, I'm sure there has to be some simple explanation…'

'Yea, right!' He snorted, couldn't believe he hadn't notice anything. They were living in the same bloody house! Jake's hand gripped tighter on the shoulder when he ran hands over his hair. 'She's getting married tomorrow! Why the hell she'd like to pack up, if she wasn't…' He shot hands in the air and growl frustrated, couldn't let the rest of words flow from his mouth.

'Maybe she is…' A soft steps coming up from the hallway interrupted them. They exchange the looks and took a step back from the door, as they decided to await for the upcoming member of the house.

'Hannah…' He said quietly as the woman appeared on the doorstep with a blue towel wrapped around her head and beautician in the right hand. Her eyes grew up with surprise, lips trembled a bit. 'Would you explain me this?' He spread his arms and turned around.

'I don't have any choice, do I?' She smiled faintly and closed the door behind herself with a soft tap.

'So, that's how you see that, huh?' He felt angry and hurt. 'I thought we can talk about everything what bother us, that we trust each other…I'm your brother!' He yelled, having enough of her calm and quiet feature. 'Go on, tell something!' He demanded, frustrated.

'It's not so easy to talk about some things…especially with your brother.' Hannah sighed and sat down on the bed, behind her pink suitcase. 'Whatever I say, you wouldn't understand my motives, Rhys.'

'I always try to understand you and be on your side, Hannah.'

'I'm leaving.' He blinked.

'What?!' A small gasp left his mouth, his eyes widened in disbelief. 'You can't be serious.'

'But I am.' He laughed shortly, taking everything as a joke. 'Rhys, I'm leaving.' She repeated, just simply as she has said moment earlier, and walked toward the wardrobe to remove the rest of her clothes.

'Tomorrow is your wedding!' He shouted, having enough of her peaceful feature. 'With Darren. Darren Osborne!' He wanted to shake her. 'You do remember him, right?' A ghostly smile appeared on her face as she looked at him above the shoulder.

'It's our joint decision.' She replied shortly and threw the rest of clothes on the bed. 'We talked last night.'

'But what about wedding? Do you know what mum would feel when she finds out you run away?' He felt like in some cheap comedy, just wait until Darren jumps out from the closet.

'I'd contact with her for few days. I just need to get away.' She muttered.

'But everything is prepared! You both are fucking immature kids! If you're not ready for marriage you should be cancelled it and inform everybody about your change of heart.' Rhys shouted, couldn't believe in what was going on. 'Hannah!' He snapped when his sister didn't bother to even look at him as she was busy placing clothes in the suitcase. 'What about your guests?!'

'I'm sorry, but I can't talk about that, right now.' She looked aside with gleaming from tears eyes. 'Just leave me, Rhys.'

'It's…Unbelievable!' He shouted and slumped down on the bed. 'What I'm supposed to say to mum and dad?' He kept moving his eyes from one face to another, but any of them said a word, only keep staring at different sides of room, each of them trying to fight with own feel of guilt.

'We could think about something…' Jake finally stuttered and shifted on his feet. 'But we'd need your dress, Hannah.' Both siblings frowned. 'I think I might have some plan.'

Few curious face turned toward him when as the last he closed the door behind himself, and with a deep sigh shuffled to the nearest chair- with his suitcase in teeth, dangling around as he kept moving, and plastic cup of already cold coffee in hand. He wished he could left it in reception, but because of his need to drink a hot coffee and splash of water on his clean shirt when he has been washing his hands, caused he was already late for the meeting, and he was forced to take a part in, even if he looks like completely idiot. He parted his lips, so the suitcase slipped off, and with a loud tap landed at the glassy table. Some woman in front of him grabbed for her plastic cup as everything rattled around, causing that few pens roll down the surface straight into carpet.

'If I see any crack, you'd pay for renovation.' Chief Inspector, Martin Cole, said irate as he landed his eyes at the disobedient subordinate from his seat at the end of the table.

'We have so much money, we don't have to invest in such a trash.' He said back, when he finally settled down at the chair and put his plastic cup next to the suitcase, ready to start the meeting. 'And if we do not have such big money as I think, we could always bought a wooden one. It should be more resistant.' He continued, seemed not notice in what mood he's superior is.

'I make sure to say a word to Commander about your advice, Craig.' He said back coldly, his fingers nervously patted the table. 'Now, if we could start the meeting I'd be grateful.'

'Don't look at me.' Craig shrugged off toward Cole, and raised his eyebrow quizzically at he noticed there was some young superintendent grinning back at him. 'Any problem?' He asked unfriendly, didn't like the attention he was giving to him.

'No problems.' The man replied with a thick Irish accent, and shrugged off with unvarnished grin.

'So why you keep looking at me?' He asked in harsh whisper, didn't want to be heard by Chief Inspector who was slowly losing his patient to him.

'I'm Noah Peterson.' He introduced himself without blink like he didn't notice a warning note in Craig's voice. 'And you have to be that famous Craig Dean.'

'Like I was fucking care who are you!' He snapped back with a snort, the same catching the attention of few other superintendents, shooting daggers at him.

'…As you all know we already have three victims, and it's very likely it is going to be mo…Craig, I see you're dying to know better our guests.' Martin Cole said sharply as he noticed that his subordinate was again more busy chatting with the guy sitting across him, instead of listening to him. 'Especially the one of them.' He added drily and clapped his hands together as his eyes moved at the other man.

'I have better things to do, Sir.' Craig replied unmoved and sent a dead glare to Irish idiot, who's constantly watching him with his steel-gray eyes.

'Yes, I can see that.' Martin Cole grunted. 'I guess I'm forced to introduce Mr. Peterson earlier than I was planning to, seeing your growing interest in him.' The Irish guy seemed to have a really good fun of the whole situation; he was grinning like Cheshire Cat, his long, slender fingers playfully rotating a pen.

'I'm sure we can pass it.'

'And I'm sure all of you would like to meet a new editor of "New Age", Mr. Noah Peterson.' He continued with wince and tapped his fingers nervously at the table. 'Mr. Peterson along with Katie Divine who I'm sure all of you already know.' He winced even more as his eyes darted toward blonde woman already keeping in hands notepad and pen. 'They have been asked to come on the meeting…'

'I though it's our internal meeting and there won't be any journalists.' One of the officers came into his word surprised.

'I've decided we should cut off the all nonsense you can hear in television and radio.' Chief Inspector huffed irate. 'People need to know there's any serial killer on the run.' Craig snorted and muttered something unappreciated under his breath, while the Irish guy wrote something down with ironic smirk.

'Three women in the row have been killed and you're saying we're not talking about serial killer?' Katie Divine glanced at the man with raised eyebrow. 'It was already settled down it's the same person.'

'We've never said anything like that!' Martin Cole protested loudly and looked for confirmation to Craig.

'Well, we don't have enough evidences to say it's the same person…' Craig replied reluctantly, deciding to continue the silly game between journalist and Cole. 'Although, we have to admit there are some similarities in the all three cases.' He added after a short pause, getting in return a satisfied grin from the woman and heavy glare from his boss.

'That's all I wanted to hear.' Katie Divine flashed them a wide smile, looking like a cat who get a cream.

'We need more patrols on the streets.' Another officer from prevention department said. 'And start to work with stations from other districts… Superintendent Dean should send his people off the streets and keep an eye at the situation, instead of sitting in the office.' He added not without cutting remark.

'If you forget, it's not the only case my department is working on.' Craig snapped, blood boiled in his veins. 'The Behari's case is still open and till we don't pull it to the end, I wouldn't send more of my subordinates on the streets. You already have three officers, there.'

'You mean these two new guys?' He asked with a snort. 'Maybe it's not my business, but I doubt…'

'And you thought good.' Craig cut him short, his hands gripped tightly at his thighs. 'You have five officers and you won't get more. My people aren't working in homicide to freeze their asses on the streets.' It was his last word and it'd be better for him if he takes a hint.

'I'm sure you can discuss it later, Craig, David.' Martin Cole looked at them heavily. 'Your argues won't help catch the killer. We must unite our forces and do everything to bring the safety back to the town.'

'How diplomatic.' Noah Peterson said mockingly, little smirk formed on his thin lips.

'I've hadn't invite you to listen to your comments.' He said back sharply, his face was already red of anger. 'You're supposed to inform people, that we're close to catch the guy responsible for killing three women, and straighten up some facts, you took from God's only know where!' He reached down under the desk and took out today's edition of "New Age". 'The Butcher strikes again! Is it the beginning of mass murders?' He yelled as he read the title and threw the newspaper on the desk. 'Really? That's how you're working, now? Sowing panic around?'

'Someone needs to say people the truth…' Katie Divine began, but Chief Inspector quickly silenced her.

'What truth!? That's a load of crap and nothing more!' He pointed at the newspaper. 'You don't have any idea who are we chasing! Shame you hadn't name him Jack the Ripper!'

'Better, don't give them new ideas…' Craig muttered under his nose and impatiently glanced at his wristwatch, hoping that spectacle would end pretty soon.

'I believe it'd sow the panic around.' Noah Peterson smirked and looked with challenge at the man. 'Butcher is better choice of words.'

'For what? To scare the whole town that a serial killer is lurking for their life?' Craig asked sarcastically, deciding it's his turn to put the journalists on their places. 'The all three victims were prostitutes, so it'd be very appreciate if you point that in your article. It might save someone's life, and people would know the killer is chasing for one specific group.'

'So you're saying they're people and prostitutes?' Katie Divine pointed out and bite down on the end of her pen.

'That's not what I meant!' Craig protested loudly, knowing what she was implying.

'But it sounds different for me…'

'Maybe you should focus more on the killer, than catching my people's words.' Martin Cole chimed in, to protect his subordinate. 'I didn't ask you to come in, to make a fool of us.'

'No one is making a fool of you.' Noah Peterson replied calmly with unfading smile. 'We're just trying to straight up some facts. Just as you say.' Craig held a breath, as the red lamp lit up in his head. New editor of "New Age" was arrogant and dangerous- simply a person who you'd like to have on your side, instead of starting a war with. There was something in the way he's smiling, the way his eyes were looking back at him with dangerous gleams… But Martin Cole seemed to noticed it yet, or was too confident to take the danger seriously, as he yelled back at Noah Peterson, barely stopping himself from call him names.

'Next time we'd need intercessor.' David muttered and for once Craig had to agree with him.

'… You're like a bunch of vultures! The more victims, the better for you! You're feeding with someone's misery and lie through the pages only to get more readers, instead of do something to stop the killings! I…' Energetic and loud knock on the door stopped Chief Inspector's tirade and created a few pulsating veins at the man's forehead as DCC Moore came in and with nervous look darted his eyes around the table. 'Excuse me?!' The man cried into Moore's direction, ready to explode. He couldn't believe his own eyes.

'I'm sorry, Sir, but I need talk to superintendent Dean. We have a break in the case.' The young man explained, his normally pale cheeks turned pink, along with the ends of his ears. 'We need him, Sir.' He stuttered and almost ran at Craig, when he finally target him.

'So, you caught the killer?' Noah Peterson asked with innocent face, although Craig noticed a dangerous gleam in man's eye.

'Well, we're…' Moore yelped and almost fall down on the ground, when his superior painfully and unexpectedly hit him on the chest, and violently raised up along with his chair.

'I'd take care of that, Sir!' Craig cried and grabbed the poor lad for the arm, before pulled him forward. 'I'd be back as soon I'd be able.' Noah Peterson only smirked at him and wave a hand, clearly enjoying himself. Craig felt relieved, when he could close the door behind themselves so he didn't feel a pair of bright and sharp eyes on himself anymore.

'Sir…' Moore said meekly to get Craig's attention, his one arm still wrapped around his middle. The looks of confuse and hurt on young man's face, softened him and made Craig feel guilty of his actions. He just get almost battered by his superior and he even hadn't known for what.

'If you know when to shut your mouth, Moore, I wouldn't have to do this.' It was unfair to blame for everything the unaware lad…But still it wasn't his entirely fault- Moore was known of his big mouth by the whole station. 'The man who chatted you up, its "New Age" new editor.' He added, deciding that the lad deserved some kind of explanation, and knew the reason why he has been scolded.

'Sorry, Sir, I didn't know there'd be any journalists, there. No one warned me.'

'I believe no one knew that, except Chief Inspector.' Craig sighed and patted the lad on the arm, in a friendly way. 'You're okay?'

'Sure, Sir.' He nodded, although a wince of pain was still evident on his face.

'So, what's that all about?' He asked and shoved hands into the pocket of his trousers. 'What break you meant?'

'Last night we got a call that woman has been attacked in the alley, in West Hill.'

'Is she alive?' Crag asked with hope and moved aside as the door behind his back opened, and Martin Cole joined them with a stern face.

'Yes, Sir. Two prostitutes came on her rescue in time. We've already questioned her, but she doesn't has too much to say. She's still in shock. But one of the prostitutes gave us something what belong to the attacker, and it looks like she recognized him.'

'What is it?' He asked quickly, feeling the rush of excitement going through his system.

'A shawl.' Moore replied with a smile. 'An orange shawl.'

'So we could get his fingertips and maybe set his personal data up if we're lucky.' Martin Cole's face broke into relieved smile. 'Finally we're more close to catch the killer than we've ever been.'

'I wouldn't be so sure of that, Sir.' Craig said carefully and rubbed the back of his neck. 'That suspect, Spaniard, as our witnesses keep calling him, is our suspect in Behari's case.'

'So? We kill two birds with one stone. We should be happy about that turn of events.'

'Well, I'm just saying we should be more careful and get more evidences before we tell press we're close to catch the killer… It might be a coincidence. I guess the woman in alley wasn't a prostitute?'

'Well no, Sir, she's working as a manager in the Fresh Lit Company, but that district is very famous when it comes about…err, special area work.' Craig raised his eyebrow at him. 'The woman has to stayed late at work, and she was wearing a quite short skirt, so Spaniard could take her as for one of these working women.' He blushed slightly under men harsh looks.

'I believe our killer is able to distinguish a prostitute from a yuppie. Am I right, Moore?' The lad only nodded his head with resigned face. 'And so far he doesn't attack every women who wear a skirt.' He snorted. 'Besides both cases are different. Nothing links them.'

'Nothing links them?' Martin Cole repeated with disbelief. 'It's very possible he brutally killed the whole Asian family, and you think he wouldn't be able to kill those women?'

'You have a point, Sir.' Craig agreed reluctantly. 'But still I insist we should wait with our revelations. Firstly we need a decent proof and find Spaniard.'

'Detective Thomson already called a searching group and from yesterday night they're checking the neighborhood, where the woman has been attacked.' Moore informed. 'So far, there's no results.'

'He's already far away.' Craig stated and looked up at Chief Inspector. 'Sir, I'm needed downstairs, so I won't be able to stay longer at your conference.'

'I understand that, Craig, and of course you can go. We need to catch this guy, before he strikes again.' The man nodded. 'You both can go, now, and I want you Craig to inform me if there'd be any break in both cases you lead.'

'And you, Sir, keep an eye at new editor. I have a feeling he's gonna be a pain on our ass, and is only watching our every step.' He warned his superior, knowing how quickly the man is losing his patience. 'We need to be careful with what we're saying.'

'I appreciate your concern, Craig, but I know what I'm doing. I'm a policeman longer than you and have bigger experience with journalists than you.' Craig only smirked at this and slightly nodded his head.

'I just felt an urge to said that.' Martin Cole kept his eyes a little longer on his subordinate like he was going to comment his little cutting mark, but on the last moment he seemed to change his mind and instead he walked back into the conference room. 'Okay, Moore, lead me to detective Thomson. I'm sure she has a lot to say.'

He swung the desk lamp's arm higher, and turned the lamp shade down so the light was falling straight at the newspaper clippings covering the whole surface of the desk. He moved his face closer and bite down on the pencil as he kept scanning the old and new photographs he has collect few hours earlier, in local library. Few black circles was already drawn at some of them, but still he was searching for a missing clue; for something that could confirm his theory.

So far, he hadn't found too much similarities between articles and somehow it was reassuring; but then still there were a few dark circles he has drawn, arousing anxiety in him. The scenes were almost the same, although spread in different parts of town. The connection between those two cases was visible, and the memories from the past returned with double power, making him feel sick and helpless; just like he had felt four years earlier, when he has been in the middle of that chaos.

The sudden steps getting closer to the bedroom, startled him. He quickly opened his notepad and threw the whole newspaper clippings between pages, before someone could see what's he doing.

'What are you doing, there?' He took a deep breath, a fake smile plastered on his face, and turned around on the chair to might look at leaning against the threshold Spike, with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His dark, sharp eyes eyed him up suspiciously, like he already knew he was hiding something from him, and to be honest that wouldn't surprise him at all; Spike seemed to read him as a book. His observant eyes never left his face as he patiently wait for his answer.

'I was checking my notes about Behari's case.' Darren replied on the one breath, hoping his voice wouldn't betray him. 'Maybe we've missed something.' He added for his defense and nervously licked lips.

'Oh, okay.' His eyebrows raised in surprise. So, that was all? Alone, oh okay, and he just dropped the theme? It wasn't the answer Darren expected to hear, nor see the man walk over the bed and simply sit on it, before he grabbed the magazine he'd left there earlier. He has to watched him a bit too long, as Spike raised up his face above the magazine and stopped his bright eyes at him. 'The bathroom is empty.' He informed him kindly.

'Right, I'd take a shower, before one of sisters close herself there for good two hours.' He chuckled shortly to relieve the tension he's feeling.

'That sounds like a good plan.' Spike agreed, small smirk played on his lips. Darren wiped hands on his jeans and with a nervous smile walked out of the bedroom. Spike turned the page and looked over some boring article, while he listened to retreating steps. He waited a little longer and when he was sure Darren wasn't anywhere on the sight, he threw the magazine back on the coverlet and quickly approached the desk. He rested one of the knees on the chair and carefully picked up the notepad.

Behari's case, eh? He thought drily as the few old paper clippings fall down on the desk and he caught a glimpse of the title from one of the newspapers. Another dead woman found in the docks. His eyebrows furrowed, the unpleasant feeling born in his system, as dawned on him what he sees. Police officer's baby killed in grizzly revenge. Who's gonna be next? Said another one, and the vision of a small baby in the crib, covered with red-white sheets appeared in front of his eyes, making him feel dizzy. The sound of sobbing behind his back and reckless left blooded kitchen knife at the middle of the child's room, became so vivid, like it was happening right there. Everything was so fresh…The smell of death and blood.

Spike closed the notepad and threw it on the desk, like it just burned his fingers. He thought he already forgot it, but the memories were still fresh and raw, taking his breath away, just like then, when he has crossed the threshold of the baby's room.

Why on Earth Darren was digging in the past? For everyone's Sake he should leave it and let forget about that. He hid the rest of clipping into notes and sat back on the bed. It was over. It has to be, he has seen him for God's Sake! He couldn't just run away again…But then why Darren would like to come back to past if he doesn't has a good reason? And what it has to do with their cases?

With each passing minute Spike had more questions, and no answers. He wasn't sure if he could, no, if he can ask Darren what's going on. First of all he hadn't feel like he was enough strong to bring everything up, and secondly he was afraid Darren would get upset with him if he tells him he was digging in his private things.

'What I'm supposed to do?' He asked quietly and with a low growl hid his head in hands. He wished he could trust his lover and not see what he has.

'Young man, about 20-25 years old, with a dark skin and short, black hair.' Craig glanced skeptically at reading a note Bridget .

'And what else?' He prompted, his right foot rhythmically tapped the floor. 'Any marks?'

'Orange shawl?' She raised an eyebrow with toothed smile.

'You mean the one we have at the station?' He replied with the same questionable tone of voice, a snort of disbelief left his mouth.

'Well, he was wearing it for the whole time…' She tried, but Craig's cool look, stopped her.

'You know that description suits to thousands people living down here?' He asked briskly, his eyes darted over the room. 'You honestly think we're going to find him that way? I thought you already have enough off useless phone calls.' Bridget crossed arms against her chest with unhappy face.

'But we don't get anything new, Sir!' Moore almost whined like a child.

'You've already gave the shawl to pathologist?' He asked sharply the lad, his all sympathy he was feeling a moment earlier, left out.

'Yes, Sir. He's working on it.'

'Good…Bridget, don't you have anything to do?' She looked at him warily. 'And what about that witch and young Willy?'

'Willy and Charlie are searching for Spaniard, while Tiger's Eye is still interrogating two prostitutes. She hopes they'd say something useful.'

'I just hope they'd understand her.' Craig snorted and jumped down the table. 'Anyway, keep working, in the meantime I'd do more research in home.'

'You're going back to Hollyoaks?'

'No, it's already late. I'd stay for a night in my flat... Do I see you tomorrow on Darren's wedding?'

'I'll try my best to come for ceremony.' She nodded. 'But I wouldn't stay any longer. I'm needed, here, since most of us is going to be away.'

'Keep inform me, then.'

'Sure, boss.' She smiled slightly and keep watching his back, till he disappears behind the door of the common room.

The black ball of fur kept brushing over and over his legs, bringing a smile on his face. He let the fingers of his hand entangle in the fur and gently stroke the skin, in return getting guttural grunts of satisfaction.

'I was missing you too.' He said gently and with a grin shook a can with cat's food he has bought in the shop on the corner. The loud meowing was enough evidence for him, to know that his small friend appreciated the present. 'I know boy, Mrs. Harvard doesn't has such a good snacks.' He cooed and spilled the contain of the can into cat's bowl. 'Here you go.'

Craig took a long, deep breath and stretched his arms out with content smile. He has never felt anywhere so good as in his own flat. He exactly knows where everything is and there was any useless things lying across the floor as in his mother's house. John Paul could complain the flat is small, but Craig doubt there was any other place in the whole England where is so tidy and cozy.

'Maybe it's not the best place in the world, but it's mine.' He said to Chubby, who meowed loudly in unison. 'And I don't need anything more.' He stripped off of his jacket and hang it on the nearby chair, before he walked into filled in darkness bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and simply threw himself on the bed. He grabbed for the pillow and tucked it under his chest, as he suddenly felt tired and drowsy. Chubby quickly followed him and laid down on the other pillow; his pink tongue moved rapidly over his muffle as he tried to clean it up from leftovers.

Craig tried his best to asleep, but he only kept rolling over the bed, couldn't find a place for himself. He wasn't sure if it was because of the overwhelming silence or unpleasant smell of the cat food coming out from Chubby's muffle, but the sleep wasn't coming up to him. Something disturbed him. Something didn't match.

He frustrated kicked the mattress under his feet and stretched his arm out, so it rested on the other pillow. His fingers gently wrapped around the material and pulled it closer to his face. He closed the eyes and sniffed the pillow with dreamy smile. He remembered that smell, he knew to whom it belongs. He loves that smell - it makes him feel butterflies in his stomach and simply feel so good. He opened his eyes widely and darted them around the dark room, as he finally understood the odd feeling he has been felt since he crossed the treshold.

Tap. Tap. Tap. A wicked smile formed on his face, as the eyes kept watching a growing puddle of red liquid on the concrete floor. His fingers moved playfully over the blade of knife, smearing the warm droplets around. He licked off one of his fingers, his teeth flashed in deepening smile. Someone's struggled behind him, a suppressed moan resounded in darkness.

'Hush…' He whispered and moved a finger over the pale flesh. 'You have to wait a bit longer, my dear.' A small whimper made him smile, his fingers playfully moved across the neck, while a thumb scratched the stubble. 'You need to shave.' His murmur turned into wicked laugh as a muffled sound of protest reached his ears, while he put the knife to the neck. His all muscles tensed so much, that ropes on the wrists made a new raw, thin lines of blood, slowly falling down on the ground. 'Calm down, you need to be patient, boy. Otherwise the fun ends too quickly.' He patted tied to the table bruised hand and put the knife down on the metallic tray. 'Be patient.' He repeated quietly and walked off the tiny room, closing behind himself the heavy metallic doors.

The touch of cold first on his check, then on his bare chest made him squirm and woke up from his pleasant dream. Distracted he lifted his head up and almost got heart attack as he sensed someone's else being in the bedroom- exactly in his bed, just behind his back. He tensed, his breath hitched in his lungs.

'Hush…' The soft whisper in his ear and tenderly caress on his shoulder, loosened him.

'Craig, what are you doing, here?' He asked surprised and rolled onto his back so he could faced his lover. 'You were supposed to stay in town.'

'I know, but I…' Small smile formed on his lips as Craig's hand travelled to his neck so he could rub the skin. He looked so cute when he was out of words, upset with something. 'Chubby is fine.' He muttered and wrapped arms around his boyfriend, before he rested his head on the younger man's shoulder.

'Good.' John Paul nodded amused and laid his hand on the top of his boyfriend's one. 'But still you hadn't explain me what are you doing, here? You know I didn't want you to drive in the middle of night.'

'That's why I hadn't phone to you.' Craig smirked slightly and softly kissed the soft flesh. 'You'd be nervous for all night.'

'I already am.'

'John Paul, please…' The man chuckled slightly and also wrapped his arms around his stubborn boyfriend.

'Why are you, here?' He sighed heavily, when John Paul repeated the same question, definitely aren't going to give up until he gets the satisfaction him answer. 'It's not like you're changing your mind all the time.'

'I couldn't sleep.' He raised his eyebrow questioningly, didn't expect that kind of explanation.

'Well, you could drink a milk or watch the movie until you asleep on the couch.' He suggested softly and kissed the top of his head.

'It wouldn't work.' Craig muttered. 'I just didn't feel good, there.' He sighed as he caught his boyfriend's worried look. 'It's just… The place. I mean, my flat…' He licked his lips nervously. 'It's just my flat isn't the same without you. It feels empty and so… foreign.' He trembled slightly, when John Paul unceremoniously kissed softly his lips and wrapped his arms even tighter around him.

'Don't worry, babe, we're very soon coming back to our home.' He assured him, his teeth flashed in darkness as he smiled widely. 'I promise you that.'

'I know.' He muttered and pressed his face to John Paul's chest to feel the smell of his skin mixed with soap, to feel save again. 'I know.'