Well, it's been a least a couple of chapters without any raunch & we can't have that, can we? For Feebee. Also, hello to Jane & Celia.

The room was lit by one side lamp and the muted television screen when Millie stepped back into the flat shortly after midnight and much earlier than she had expected to be. Her Inspector had found another officer to share her second shift of the day and she might have believed him had he not looked quite so shifty when she voiced her surprise. A conversation about all this string pulling was well overdue, but not tonight. She was tired and felt filthy from the grime of the street and her own sweat from the heated day turned sultry night. Surely this weather had to break soon. Surely the promised rain would come tomorrow.

He was laid out on the sofa wearing only his boxer shorts, one arm draped off the edge of the seat towards the open but dead laptop, almost as if he had fallen asleep in mid-type hours earlier. The other arm lay across his chest, holding his heartbeat within the palm of his hand. She stopped and listened for a moment to his gentle snoring, his head tipped back and lips parted. In bed, she'd nudge him, or kick him depending on the volume, but for now it was a most beautiful noise, peaceful. He was such a different animal when at rest. It was such a pity that no one else ever saw it. It was probably a good thing. She thought about waking him, but couldn't bring herself to do it just yet. Besides Millie was certain that she wasn't a pretty sight, or smell, right now and he might wonder if he'd slipped from tranquillity into nightmare. Instead she took herself off to shower, and maybe revive. After all, there was the little matter of her debt to settle.

When she returned it was obvious that he had woken. Hip lips were now closed, with the lower jutting out in that way she found utterly disarming, even when others saw only arrogance. It looked like there were a few more cushions behind his head, so he was rather more upright and had certainly shifted over to the back of the sofa, giving her space to sit beside him. Millie bit her lip to quash a giggle at his connivance. She'd make him wait a little longer. A couple of glasses and plates lay next to the dishwasher, she knew she wasn't alone in wondering how it was a man could take dirty things to the machine, but never actually manage to put them in there without being told to. One of life's mysteries, she'd concluded.

Having loudly stacked the dishwasher, with extra sighs to accompany the clatter, Millie decided to bring an end to her torment and made her way back to the sofa. She wore only a shirt, buttoned once at the waist. His shirt from that day, found carelessly tossed on their bed. She liked to wear his clothes, it made her feel closer to him, to be enveloped in his scent, the fabric having literally absorbed part of him. She told him this once and, deadpan, he had replied that he felt the same way in her clothes. For a moment, she had panicked at the image he brought to mind, before he had tousled her hair and with that rare grin of his, told her not to be so gullible.

Smoothly she glided down to perch by his waist, her thighs parting a little as she twisted to face him, noting the slight change in his breathing in response. His body had changed in the last few weeks, less sharply defined, a little softer, the result of it being too hot to run combined with the relative inactivity of his Inspector status. He had grumbled about it but Millie didn't mind, she loved him and it made him surprisingly cuddlier. Not that being told so had done much to improve his mood. She leant forward slightly to brush over that fleshy lower lip with the pad of her thumb, he breathed deeply, relaxing into her touch, allowing her more of him to caress. The tips of her fingers trailed down his stubbled cheek, along the jaw line and down his neck. She could feel his excitement in the quickening pulse beneath the surface of his heated skin, she didn't need to look along his body to see its outward evidence. Her own breathing reflected the fluttering in her stomach and the growing need lower still. She shifted on the sofa in an attempt to assuage the sensation and her movemnt seemed enough to slowly half open his eyes. A small grunt escaped from his throat, giving voice to his appreciation of the image above him. Millie felt the possession in his eyes reaching into her, gripping her and drawing her to him.

His nostrils flared as the light vanilla perfume on her cleansed skin mingling with her own musky scent assailed him. A primeval male response to her arousal, fuelling his own. He wondered if he could ever get enough but the sight that greeted him made him swallow, as ever the picture was an arresting mixture of innocence and seduction. The white shirt, milky skin but then that glorious, sensuous red hair, casually clipped up except for the damp tendrils which escaped and fell free of restraint. He lifted a hand to her neck and slowly, silently, slid it down inside the shirt over her collar bone, his gaze following his progress with each revealed inch delighting his senses evermore, pushing the fabric aside and widening it to a deep v that ended a little below her waistline. His palm brushed, then cupped her breast, the soft weight deliciously heavy in his hand, a thumb flicked at a nipple, back and forth, before the hand reached its first destination to deftly unfasten the button and sweep away remaining obstruction to his view.

She knew where he was heading and as much as she longed for him to get there and work his magic, it was just too soon. "I'm sorry if I woke you," she whispered, sitting back and lifting his hand to her lips to kiss each fingertip.

"I'm not," a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Good day?" she switched to his other hand.

"Average. Hot. Too much bickering. The usual." The words left his mouth but almost without conscious knowledge, so absorbed was he in the sight and sensation of her lips and tongue working, swirling, sucking on each of his fingers, letting each agonisingly slowly fall from her lower lip one by one, gasping with pleasure as she took both hands to place them on her breasts while she leant down to him again with a devilishly wicked smile.

"Let me take your mind off things then," she murmured into his ear before gently nipping at the lobe.

Her lips hovered above his, he could have lifted his head the merest fraction and he would have caught them, but instead he waited, his eyes all but closed in supine anticipation, nostrils flaring again as the scent of her arousal reached him once more. Millie studied him beneath her, cocking her head to one side as she rested on her forearms either side of his head. She touched the very tip of her tongue to his upper lip, lifting it once, then again, and again, daring his urgent response. He swallowed again, she was pushing him close. She dipped again to barely catch his lower lip in her teeth, pulling upwards as she gently drew back, then releasing her grip and setting him free. With a ragged breath he lifted eyelids heavy with desire for the creature above him and met her hypnotic gaze. From somewhere he found the strength in his arms to lift his hands, burrowing his fingers into hair and pulling her down to him, taking back control in a deep kiss that seemed to go on forever until finally both needed to break for air.

"As much as I enjoy making out with you on the sofa like a couple of kids," he murmured breathlessly, "why don't we don't we go to bed?" Anxious to let her continue with her seduction of him, he peeled away from under her and started to sit up on the sofa, grimacing as his back creaked painfully.

"Old man," she teased, turning to run the heel of her hand down his spine, causing him to groan in response and arch his back, eyes closing.

"Yeah, well. Still young enough to keep you satisfied."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Bed, now... ohhh, yesss, do that again."

"I'd better take this call or she'll just keep ringing."

Millie stood on the sun baked step of Beautylicious, ready to enter, and looked back at her colleague, frowning in confusion. What was Nate Roberts doing here? She didn't work with him anymore. Where was Sunil? Her brows knitted together in bewilderment but the ringing didn't stop.

"Well go on then," it was her voice, but she did feel like she was talking, only watching.

"What?"

"Answer it."

"Uh?"

"Answer it."

"Uhhhh."

The bright light of the afternoon sun darkened until all that was left were the narrow slivers of moonlight piercing the room through gaps in the wooden blinds. She blinked, slowly coming to terms with where she was and where she wasn't.

"Max, answer the phone," she groaned, prodding him sharply in the back.

"What? Ohh …" He fumbled on the bedside table for the telephone, his thumb blindly searching in the dark for the green answer button.

"Carter," he mumbled, partially into the pillow, struggling to rouse consciousness from his heavy post-coital slumber.

"Not you! I don't want you."

"Eh?" The voice was familiar, angry and perhaps panicked, but his sexually sated brain couldn't place who it was.

"Millie!" the voice snapped aggressively. "I want to talk to Millie!"

"Who are …? Oh, whatever … whatever … it's for you …" he passed the phone over his shoulder, dropping it into the narrow valley between their bodies.

"What?"

"It's for you," he mumbled into the pillow.

Millie grumbled, her legs tangled in the bed sheet and she fought to kick them free so she could sit up and find the handset, now wedged under him.

"Yes … hello?"

"She's disappeared."

"Who … who is this?"

"It's Georgie, Millie. Carly's gone missing … I don't know what to do."

"Georgie?" Still half asleep, it took Millie a moment to put together the voice and name. Max's eyes flew open. His previously fugged brain immediately back on full alert, listening intently without moving a muscle for fear of missing something. That voice, he knew he recognised that voice. "Georgie, calm down. What do you mean she's gone missing?"

"I don't know what to do, Millie!" Georgie's agitation threatened to spill over into full scale panic.

"Georgie, breathe, take it slowly. What's happened?"

"She always takes my calls. Always returns my messages. Straightaway. But I've called her at least a dozen times and she hasn't answered or got back to me and now her phone is going straight to voicemail. Something's happened to her I know it. I've called St Hugh's but they haven't got her. I …" his voice faltering weakly, "I didn't know who else to call. Millie? Help me."

"Georgie, it's …" Millie peered at the digital clock on Max's bedside table, "gone half past three in the morning. Are you sure she isn't in bed?"

"No! I'm in her flat now, she's not here!"

"Maybe she's out with friends?" Millie privately wondered if Carly had any friends, probably only those orange-hued hangers on with the same ambition of snaring a middle league football player, or similar. Some weren't so fussy. "Have you called her friends?"

"I don't have their numbers apart from one or two. No one's seen her, the girls at the salon haven't seen her since she left early either."

"She left early?"

"Yes, about four, Nadine said. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," Millie chewed her lower lip, a little guilt creeping in. Had Carly disappeared because of what she had said? "It's just that I dropped in earlier to say hello."

"How was she?" the desperation for any information clear in his tone.

Rude and unpleasant, thought Millie. "Well, umm, the same as usual I suppose." They both fell silent for a moment, Millie with her fledgling remorse and Georgie with worry. "Look, she's probably just lost her phone or had it stolen and hasn't realised yet. Or maybe it's run out of battery and she can't recharge it. It's only been a few hours, give her a bit longer."

"She always calls me, she always lets me know where she is and what she is doing," he spoke with such fervour that Millie had to believe him. Carly and Georgie were always close, her mother's death had formed a bond between the two that most would find suffocating, but it suited them. Albeit to the terminal detriment of any other relationship that either ever entered into. Maybe that was it, maybe for the first time, Carly needed a bit of space. Maybe Millie's tirade had made Carly question herself, although Millie couldn't believe that even Carly would be so purposefully cruel to her father by putting him through this.

"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, I'm sure she'll turn up in the morning and be really sorry for not calling you, but if it will make you feel like you're doing something, then telephone the station and report her missing. She's likely to be assessed as low risk I'm afraid, but her details will be circulated and if she doesn't get in touch tomorrow … well … I'll call you in a few hours. If there's no news, I'll do everything I can ... and so will Max, her flat is on Sun Hill's patch." Georgie hesitated, whether it was from digesting what Millie had said or from her mention of Max she couldn't tell.

"She's my little girl. All I've got," Millie had to press the receiver to her ear to hear his quiet voice filled with despair.

"I know. I'm sure she's fine, but perhaps she wants a bit of space, I know I do sometimes. Try to get some rest, I'll call you in the morning and you know what? I bet she'll be at your place, demanding breakfast or something." She hoped that might encourage him to be positive, draw a chuckle even. As far as she knew, Carly was never up early enough for breakfast.

But, his response was flat. "Yeah, maybe. I hope so."

Millie disconnected the call and awkwardly climbed back over Max to replace the handset.

"Why did you say you need space," Max aimed for nonchalance as she flopped back beside him with a loud sigh, but it was only camouflage for the constant underlying dread that one day she would leave him.

"Doesn't everyone? I don't mean I need to go on holiday alone for two weeks, or take a break, it's just sometimes I like to maybe do the food shopping on my own, or go swimming, gives me a chance to think, that's all."

"About what?" He raised himself up onto one elbow to look down at her, his eyes straining in the darkness but needing her reassurance.

"Nothing and everything. You, me, us, Mum, Dad, Tara and now Guy," she grimaced up at him. "Shoes, whether to cut my hair short again-"

"Don't you dare."

Millie laughed softly and ran a finger lightly over his collar bone. "Okay. But just because I like to have a bit of space, doesn't mean I'm unhappy. I've never been happier." She brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead and that seemed to be enough to draw the subject to a close. He dropped down onto his back and pulled her over to rest her head on his chest.

Insecurity dealt with, he decided to tackle the other matter that had weighed heavily on his mind these past couple of days. "So, what was that all about?"

"Carly's gone missing, according to Georgie. He's in a real state, but she'll be off with friends, I'm sure …"

"You don't sound very sure."

"It's just they are so close that I can understand why he's worried, it's pretty out of character for her, but maybe she's met someone and lost track of time."

"Hmm. Is that all?"

Millie paused, she couldn't help believe that she might be responsible. "I went into the salon this afternoon to say hello but she was her usual horrible self and I said some things I wish I hadn't now."

"Like what?"

"Oh, along the lines of if she wasn't nicer then she'd end up being a sad lonely old woman who no one wanted to be with. Maybe it's my fault she's gone off the radar."

Max's laughter rumbled through his body. "That's hardly likely to tip someone like Carly over the edge, Millie. Now, calling your future fiancé cold and unpleasant while stuck in a broken lift would be a different matter." Millie gave him a hard pinch and raised her head to deliver a stern glare. "Ow!"

"I don't think you are in a position to bring up past demeanours, are you?" But she ended with a little smile and collapsed back down to his body, breathing in the scent of his skin that she loved so much.

The lovers lapsed into silence, only their breathing punctured the stillness of the room. Max knew Millie was still pondering her guilt and pulled her tighter. She clung to him despite the muggy heat of the night that would normally drive them apart. Eventually though, her exhaustion prevailed and she succumbed to sleep still draped across his chest. Max wasn't so lucky, unable to switch his mind off the Fleischmann affair, distractedly twirling a long lock of her hair round and round his fingers as he mulled over what he knew so far. Where was Carly? Had she disappeared or simply having a night on the town, oblivious to the worry she was causing? If she had disappeared, either intentionally or against her will, was she also mixed up in her father's illicit dealings? He couldn't help thinking if that were to be the case, Carly might just be the 'in' that he needed to break Georgie. But Georgie hadn't mentioned to Millie that he was in trouble and that there could be a reason for Carly's silence. Surely if he suspected his associates might be involved he would have done. Unless … unless he was too scared, too scared to think straight.