Many thanks to Joodiff for support and the beta.

The Visit.

The moment Eve Lockhart raises her hand to knock on the door, a worrying thought hits her, making her hesitate and lower her arm again.

This might be a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

Staring at the bright blue painted front door she reflects on the situation. She doesn't fear for her life... after all, it's not Boyd's private sphere she's about to invade, but she could easily be sent away with a serious flea in her ear following an angry speech about minding her own business.

And truth be told, what's happened has nothing to do with her and her interference might not be appreciated. It is not her fight, but someone has to intercede soon, or things will get out of hand and this whole miserable affair will turn into a disaster. Not just for these two foolish people but for everyone in the whole bloody unit.

So – risk or not – this is the right thing to do. If they can't see their problem, somebody has to enlighten them and clearly, as nobody else seems keen to do anything, she's drawn the short straw. It's her, or nothing will happen.

Biting down on her lip she takes a few steadying breaths. Come on, Eve, she scolds herself. Now or never. Do it or walk away like a bloody coward.

Again, she raises her hand, but before her knuckles hit the wood, the door opens and she doesn't hit the owner of the house on the nose only thanks to her fast reflexes.

Caught on the wrong foot, all Eve manages is a nonchalant, "Hi, Grace."

"Eve?" Grace's face is strangely blank. Only a quirked eyebrow is evidence of any emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Not the friendly welcome she hoped for, Eve ponders, but not as bad as she'd feared. Seeing her colleague is good, though, and she seems to be doing okay. She doesn't appear quite as stylish as normal though, with hair lightly tousled and clothing rather more causual than usual. But then, who dresses up for a day at home, eh? Grace's attire – leggings and an oversized t-shirt – seems to suit well her, though.

"I was in the neighbourhood. Just thought I'd pop in and say hi..."

"Mm," Grace looking slightly amused. "Of course you were." Without moving, she studies her visitor in silence before she, with a little sigh and a strained smile, steps back. "You better come in then..."

Stepping forward and sneaking an arm around Grace's shoulders for a hug, Eve extends her other hand, holding out a bottle. "I brought wine."

"You just happened to have a bottle of wine stored in your car when you coincidentally happened to be in Finchley. How convenient." The laughter, following the words, as she closes the door behind them, doesn't hold the slightest trace of real joy though. "A bit early, isn't it? I'll make us a cup of tea instead."

Grace accepts the bottle with a little smile and a thank you, and then goes on, "Make yourself at home. You know the way." Indicating the direction with her head, she turns on her heel and disappears into the kitchen.

Entering the living room, Eve immediately feels a comforting tranquillity embracing her whole being. The room is a little untidy; messy and cosy at the same time in a very Grace-ish sort of way. Books everywhere, green plants on the windowsill, and of course, all the usual knick-knacks that clearly are a part of Grace's personality are scattered around. A green couch, inhabited by several cushions and a loosely draped rug, is pushed up against the wall. Close to it is a large, comfortable-looking armchair with a pouffe, where an open laptop is placed.

Judging by the state of the room, Eve assumes Grace has been seated on the chair working on something that her arrival interrupted, and she therefore heads for the couch. Pushing the rug away, she discovers a notebook folded over a pen.

Peeking is wrong. She is fully aware of that, but it's too tempting. She can't help it. The curiosity is simply too strong and she's desperate to find out what's going on here and what Grace is planning to do.

Notebook in hand, her index finger automatically searches and finds the page the pen provides; she opens the book, her gaze quickly scanning the pages.

It's not easy. Grace's scrawls are hard to decipher. Could be a to-do list, a list of names and phone numbers. Some are ticked off, and others crossed out, indicating that her friend has been making some systematic calls.

A faint noise from the door tells her hostess is on her way, makes her hurriedly sit down on the couch, leaving the notebook on the seat beside her. A sense of guilt makes her fold her hands in her lap while she tries hard to look completely innocent.

A steaming mug in each hand, Grace walks into the room. After handing Eve a mug, she settles down on the chair, taking good time to make herself comfortable. Scrutinizing her guest in silence, she curls her legs up and wraps her fingers around the other mug before she finally inquires. "Why are you here?"

"As I said," Eve snickers nervously, "I was just passing... "

Wryly, Grace interrupts her, rolling her eyes. "Eve..."

She should have known. Fooling Grace is a lost cause, Eve rebukes herself. The whole situation is distressing. Every organ inside her squirms. The discomfort is massive. Almost nauseously. "This is so awkward." Embarrassed, her eyes flicker around the room before she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself. Best get it over and done with and then face the consequences. Looking directly at the older woman, she confesses, "It's a welfare check, Grace. You're my friend. I'm worried. So worried about how you're coping."

"No need, I'm doing just fine. A simple phone call would have been sufficient," Grace tartly retorts.

The look definitely belies her statement, Eve quietly reflects as she has a closer look at her friend. Her complexion is grey, and her light make-up doesn't conceal the dark circles under her eyes. She is definitely not fine.

They both sit in silence for a moment sipping their tea, not knowing what to say. Finally, Grace softly probes, "How much have you heard?"

"Nothing official. According to Boyd, you're taking some time off. No further explanation offered though. Spence and Stella each gave me a thorough summary of the incident between you and Boyd. They were both deeply shocked. They're avoiding the squad room as much as possible, spending a lot of time in the lab without disturbing me, or finding something to do elsewhere," Eve dryly snorts and rolls her eyes as she adds. "When they can't they play ostriches, they're keeping their heads down as much as possible."

Shaking her head, Grace whispers, clearly unhappy, "Don't blame them. I shouldn't have lashed out. Shouldn't have lost my temper and said those dreadful things."

Appalled by her friend's words, Eve leans forward gently placing a reassuring hand on Grace's knee. "No wonder you lashed out. Your reactions are understandable. The way Boyd has treated you lately is utterly scandalous. No-one's blaming you... "

Running a hand over her face, Grace mumbles. "Even so... "

"No, Grace, no. You shouldn't defend him. If he won't listen, then you'll have to show him."

Shaking her head, Grace looks devastated. "There's absolutely no excuse for what I said. I'm a trained psychologist. I shouldn't have lost my temper..."

"Even psychologists have feelings, and this was very personal, wasn't it?"

Grace doesn't seem to listen but continues, "... never have shouted at him. " Swallowing hard. "Those words... "

"Repressed and denial?"

A silent nod affirms her question.

"He's trying to do both his own job and yours," Eve grunts, "even asked me for an explanation."

"And?"

"I have no idea what he expects of me. Besides, what does it have to do with me? I'm a pathologist, not a bloody shrink." Realising, what she just said she raises an appologising hand. "Sorry about that."

Inclining her head with a weak smile, Grace accepts the apology without any comment, asking instead. "What did you reply?"

"What could I say? It isn't my bag." Quickly shrugging. "That's what I told him."

"Ha – I bet he didn't like that. How did he respond?"

"No idea. I left the office faster than a bat out of hell and relocated to the lab." Eve chuckles softly. "Let him stew for a while. He deserves it. Besides, he'll soon realise – if he hasn't already – how much he needs you. Wait a couple more days, maybe a week before you come back."

"I'm not coming back, Eve." Grace trails a hand around her neck, rubbing. "Why should I? There's no place for me anymore in there."

Eve's eyes widen in shock. "Of course, there is, Grace. You're the glue that keeps the whole unit together."

"He made his bed and now, he's got to lie in it as best as he can." The words are edged with bitterness.

"Please, Grace."

Leaning forward Grace places her mug on the table, then crosses her arms defensively over her chest, eyes burning with anger. "He made it perfectly clear he didn't want me. I didn't work so hard for my knowledge, title, and reputation only to be called an old woman reading tea leaves and crystal balls."

"Grace... "

"Could you work somewhere where all your professional skills are – at best – constantly questioned, or downright ignored?" Tears are visible in her eyes. "Well, I can't."

In a single gliding movement, she unfolds her legs and plants them on the floor, before she places her elbows on her knees and buries her face in her hands.

"Oh, Grace," Eve pushes herself forward down onto the floor, circling her arms around Grace, trying to comfort her. "From the moment I became a part of the unit, I felt that two of you had a special connection," she murmurs. "You may bicker and quarrel loud and fervently... Sometimes it sounds exactly like a marital, but you two are able to communicate with each other without words in a way I've never seen anybody else do. Not even my parents. The air between you is loaded with a special energy, and you always have each other's back. Always shoulder by shoulder against any force threatening one or both of you."

"Once maybe," Grace mutters in a broken voice, and sniffs before she lifts her head, a glint of defiance in her gaze. Using her sleeve, she dries her eyes and states, "Once yes, but not anymore. Remember the Keane case? The all boys club of his with Spence and that damn Irish police officer? Wouldn't listen to any of us girls, would he? I can't compete with that. More precisely, I won't even try. The last few days, I've made some phone calls to find out what my options are. I'll probably go back to Broadmoor, or maybe I'll try do research. Maybe write a book or two. Who knows..." She throws her arms out in a resigned movement.

"But you can't leave." The mere thought repulses Eve. "He needs you. We need you, Grace."

"Nobody is indispensable. He... you'll all just have to learn to manage. Give it a week or two, and you'll have forgotten all about me."

"That's definitely not going to happen, Grace. Never." A shake of her head underlines her words. "Boyd knows the value of your expertise and the input you can give to an investigation. Sometimes in the evening, he sneaks into your office when the rest of us have left work to study your books."

"How could you possibly know that?" Looking lost and confused.

"Sometimes, when I get in before everybody else, I've seen open books left on your desk side by side with a tumbler. Not to mention the notepad with notes clearly written by Boyd." Eve laughs triumphantly. "And later, passing through the squad room after Boyd has arrived, all evidence of late activity has magically disappeared, and the room looks untouched."

Arching an eyebrow, Grace tuts. "That's very interesting... "

"You see, he needs you and he is very much aware of that fact."

"Even so - "

A buzzing from a phone disrupts her and a confused Grace looks around to locate the sound. Finally, reaching behind her in the chair, she fishes up the phone. Stella's name is visible on the display.

"Oh." Eve smirks, "Good girl, Stella." Indicating with a nod. "Come on, Grace, answer."

Hesitatantly, Grace replies with a short, "Stella..." and then listens attentively. "Just a minute..." Gesturing she begs Eve to hand her the notebook lying the couch. Placing it on her knees, she picks up the pen and starts to write. "Doctor Caroline Ritter... heard the name before. Can't recall in what context... Escaped from where...? Which drugs is he on?" Pausing, clearly listening again. "Okay, I'll look into it and get back to you, Stella. Take care. Bye-bye."

Ending the chat, she abandons the phone beside the laptop on the pouffe and turns towards her guest with a sigh but is stopped before she's able to mutter a single word.

"There you are – you definitely are needed." Eve smiles widely.

"No, it's just - "

"End of discussion, Grace!" Eve sternly cuts her short. "Forget about Boyd if you want, but don't you dare desert the rest of us. Your friends and colleagues. We miss you, and we can't or won't cope without you. And now," getting to her feet, "I better leave before somebody misses me in the lab. Think about it, Grace, please. Give it serious thought."

Halfway towards the door, she stops for a moment, turns around catching Grace's eye. "It's none of my business, but there are unsolved or unfinished issues between the two of you. You can't leave before those are settled. For your own sake if not for his. You'll never forgive yourself if you do."

"And you claim you aren't a psychologist?" Snorting, Grace gets up too.

"I'm not. Just a keen observer picking up bits and pieces from the best."

Embracing the younger woman, Grace chuckles as she follows Eve to the door. "Thank you so much for the visit. It was lovely to see you, and you certainly gave me something to contemplate. Give my regards to Spence and Stella, will you?"

"Of course, I will, Grace," Eve responds with a smile and steps out. "Take care, and just for the record, you are coming back. I won't take no for an answer."

With a wave, she turns around and walks towards her car, feeling the tension in her shoulders and back softening.

Mission successfully accomplished, Eve muses. She can't wait to get back to Spence and Stella and tell them that the current crisis at the unit might not be totally irreversible after all.