Disclaimer: I don't own The Bill

A/N: Dedicated to MissLaLa73 for being so awesome and writing the most inspirational piece about Noble Fight ever, which, if I'm being honest, left me a little overwhelmed and teary. Yes, I'm a sook… now you know. But seriously, so awesome!

The Noble Fight


Chapter Twelve;
Just Words

Lunch came and went but no one moved from his or her allocated position. Seated in front of a computer, scrolling through old voting records to allocate the new homes of Jankowski's old allies, Millie bit her lip as she again failed to find a corresponding name. She looked at the name on the list and crossed it off. Sliding her finger down it, she moved to the next one, determination etched on her face.

Of course she had the menial task of the day but she wasn't surprised. As the missing child's mother she really shouldn't have been there at all. She should be at home with an FLO making her cups of tea and telling her that it would be all right. It would be fine. Would she like another cup of tea? Like another tea would bring her son back.

Tears threatened to well again and Millie bit them back, fluttering her eyelids quickly to stop them escaping. She was currently being watched like a hawk by Roger who she'd overheard being instructed by DCI Manson that if she showed the first sign of cracking he had to take her home immediately and tuck her into bed – or something of that nature. The gist was that if she even gave a hint of a tear she was out of there, so she blinked it back. She was not going home to wallow in her own self-pity, return to where his toys and history were etched in the walls. The hallways still haunted with crayon marks, the dent in the fridge where he'd spent two whole hours banging his head when Millie had refused to give him chocolate pudding for dessert, the badly-repaired coffee table that had broken when Oscar had turned it over, mid-tantrum, with a toddler-style superhuman strength. The damn thing still wobbled if you put the phone down anywhere other than in the centre of it. Max had insisted she throw it out, but after assuring him that their current financial situation just proved that wasn't an option, he had relented and now steadied it every so often with half a deck of playing cards. If he could be bothered that is. He hadn't even fixed it when it had initially broken. She'd had to do that herself one Tuesday afternoon when Oscar was napping. Armed with wood-glue and determination, Millie had done her best and been very proud of the work – until Max came home and proclaimed it still ruined. He'd made his own dinner that night, Millie feigning a headache and going to bed grumpy.

But right now these were moments she wouldn't change for the world. Right now she'd give anything to hear Oscar screaming that he didn't like mashed potato and that he wanted pudding for dinner. Right now she begged for the burning fury of watching Max give in to the child every time he asked for anything, no matter how ridiculous it was. Like the time he'd left the house, in the rain, just to get Oscar a chocolate frog even though when Millie asked for washing powder on a sunny day he'd insist the walk wouldn't kill her.

"Hey, you looked a long way away." Millie gazed up from the list she'd been unintentionally staring at to find Roger standing beside her, concern etched across his face. "Are you okay Mills?"

Millie nodded quickly. "Yeah, just… uh…" she trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "Um, do you know where Max is Roger?"

Roger gave a single nod. "He went with DCI Manson to collect some witness statements in your mum's neighbourhood."

"Of course he gets to leave the office but I'm stuck here," Millie grumbled. Roger cracked a small smile as he heard that and Millie returned it, but it was a teary one. "I'm bored Roger, and because I'm bored I keep drifting off, keep remembering things that, right now, I don't want to remember, it just makes me feel worse."

Roger nodded. "I know; I've been watching you."

"I have to keep busy, I have to help, otherwise I'm going to go mad. So far everyone on this list has either disappeared, not voted since 2004 or has died and I'm quickly starting to suspect that the rest of the names on here will fall into the same category." She looked at him with wide eyes. "Please Roger, please let me do something real."

Roger sighed but gave in. He always gave in to Millie. He couldn't help it. He'd been watching Millie's back for a long time. She was like a little sister, maybe even a daughter, to him and he hated seeing her look so down. He motioned to his desk. "Look, I'm just e-mailing other boroughs with photos of Jankowski and descriptions, spreading the word about Jankowski and Oscar. If you want to help me with that, if you think you're up to it." She nodded. "So far it's been fruitless I'm afraid."

Millie smiled. "I have faith we'll find something." She stood and followed Roger back to his desk. "And right now faith is about all that I have."