Thanks for reading! Jessie xx

Boys Night

"So when are you interviewing?" Steve asked as he returned to the table in their local with a tray of drinks.

"Friday, thanks," Sandra finished her glass and swapped empty for full. "Rob said next week but we figured if none of them are any good…"

"That's fair," the Scot agreed. "Well, Brian and me have looked at the forensics evidence and the daughter's right – there is enough there to re-open the case."

"Right," Sandra nodded.

They chatted about the case, Gerry returned from outside and Brian from the Gents. They talked about the four candidates that Gerry and Sandra had picked for interviewing. They fantasised about how UCOS would carry on forever. They reminisced about how it had changed. They teased Sandra about being able to convince their boss of nearly anything now. They talked about family. Sandra went to the bar to get more drinks. She looked back at her boys. They had been her only family for so long, it was only right to be open with them. A good team doesn't keep secrets, she smiled as she remembered her own words from one of their early cases. She'd had to come clean about knowing WPC Daniels. She hadn't been entirely upfront about her relationship with the eventual culprit but that was her prerogative. There were things they needed to know. One thing at a time, she thought to herself as she paid for the drinks and carried the tray to the table.

"No nuts?" Gerry asked as he looked over the collection of snacks she had added to the round.

"Did you…?" she began then stopped: he had asked for salted peanuts. Why had she forgotten? "Sorry, do you want some?"

"Nah, you're alright," he opened a packet of crisps and split the packet open so that they could share more easily.

"There's something I need to talk to you all about," she opened as she sat down. Three faces suddenly became serious as they turned their attention to her. There was a tiger in her stomach, prowling uncomfortably as she hoped they wouldn't jump to any conclusions. "DCS Dawson is retiring as head of the murder squad and I've been asked to apply for the job."

She couldn't work out whether the silence that followed her announcement was an awkward one or not. It seemed to last forever though, she was sure of that. Focusing on the glass of lemonade she was drinking (the wine hadn't been that nice again, plus she wanted to drive back to Rob's) failed to distract her from the fact that none of them had offered her a reaction. Daring to glance over the rim of the tinted glass, she realised she could read each of their thoughts, but couldn't predict what their eventual responses would be. Gerry's eyes had widened slightly and he was staring straight at her; she deliberately avoided catching his eye and deduced that he was caught between telling her to go for it and begging her to stay. If she went, he would follow suit. If she stayed, he would stay too. He didn't know what he wanted her to do. Steve's eyes flicked between the other three; he would be biting his tongue, not wanting to speak out of turn. Brian had sucked in his cheeks slightly as he watched her; wondering how long it would be before she demanded some form of feedback and questioning what the end result of this conversation was supposed to be. She didn't want to break the elongated pause; she needed their opinions, or did she just want their permission to decide?

Steve looked at each of his friends once more before deciding that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he spoke first, if only to move the evening forward. "Are you going to?"

Sandra bit her lip, "I don't know," she replied truthfully. "I wanted to talk to you all about it. Obviously your jobs are safe, Rob will find someone else to head UCOS if I went, they won't close down the unit," she resisted the need to add if you want them: partly because it would cause Rob a bigger headache if they all jumped ship simultaneously; partly because if they did decide to follow her out the door then it would feel like the last ten years of hard work were less significant than they really were; and partly because she genuinely had no idea what she wanted to do and suggesting the possibility that there was a readily open door would sound like she had. "But I don't…I don't know."

"It would be another feather," Steve chose to overlook the gargoyles either side of him. Sandra clearly needed their support, whatever decision she would make, as far as he could see. He apprehended that the very fact that she had preferred to take their views on the situation signalled her own unrest about the idea. "Detective Chief Superintendent. It has a nice ring to it. But would that be a reason to go for it?"

"No," she said quite definitely. "I … I don't think it would be. It wouldn't be for the rank. Not now. But then, what would it be for? I mean, it'd mean more pressure, more work. Cases would be more immediate, but they wouldn't be any less important than what we do. And then there's the procedures, I'd be dealing with a department that have not only read The Book but follow it!"

Her attempt to reduce the morose expressions of her two older friends failed as Gerry finally joined the discussion. "It sounds like you've already talked yourself out of it," he said in a flat and almost disgusted tone.

"You could always go for the interview and see what you think. Or ask to do a couple of days with this Dawson guy, get a feel for it," Steve shot an appalled look at Gerry. How the man had the gall to flatten her reasoning disturbed him. It also showed for the second time in recent memory just how childishly Gerry could behave.

"That's a good idea," she acknowledged Steve with a smile before turning on Gerry. "And what if I have talked myself out it already? The worth of what we do at UCOS is something that I shouldn't have to quantify for you! Things happen, bad things happen to people; it's our job to put away the people that cause them!"

"You're right, you are behind the times," Gerry rejoined. "We don't put them away anymore. The CPS do that, or at least they do sometimes! How many cases have we solved and the bastards who've ruined peoples' lives still get away with it just because of the distance in time? It isn't right. You know what we do is get to the bottom of a case, but don't you ever feel that sometimes we're just too late? You could be there, healing the wounds after they've happened, not twenty years later!"

"Is it him?" Brian asked calmly interjecting into the conversation as if they were discussing the weather. "Strickland? Is it because of him?"

As Sandra narrowed her eyes and tried to work out what Brian was asking her, Mia closed her course book and rubbed her eyes. Bella was starting to grumble on her playmate, so she picked her up. She looked over to where her dad was almost dozing off on the sofa.

"Oh Bella," she murmured in the baby's ear. "Look at old-sleepy-pops, think we tired him out with all that shopping!"

Bella giggled as Rob opened his eyes and pointed roughly in their direction. He was quite comfortably sprawled on the middle seat of the sofa with his feet on the coffee table. And he was ridiculously exhausted after their after college shopping trip. "Sleepy-pops says shush," he grunted playfully.

"Aww," Mia got out of the chair and joined him on the sofa. "But Bella wanted to say thank-you for all her lovely new things, didn't she?"

Rob grinned as Bella reached her arms out toward him. He scrunched up his nose and smiled; the resulting sight hadn't yet failed to make his granddaughter laugh. "Come here then, you two," he sat Bella on his lap while Mia pulled her feet up and leant forward to aid Bella's play with Rob's tie. He rested his free arm around his daughter's knees and smiled happily.

"No," Sandra settled on at length. "It's not because of him."

Brian nodded, seemingly satisfied in some way that eluded her comprehension. "I think Steve's right," he said, checking any further silent interrogation of his meaning. "Go over for a day, see what you think. You're right, it's different. When Jack and me had to go over…"

Gerry snorted. "You went awol," he recalled. "I had Emily giving me ear-ache about that for months. She still brings it up every now and then!"

"What's this?" Steve asked bewildered at the turns the two men had just executed.

"A few years back, there was this case we worked. Fresh body turns up, MIT get involved, only they're short-handed so Brian and Jack they get sent up to make up numbers," Gerry explained.

"They wouldn't need to make up numbers if their bloody system wasn't so stupid. Action-led or whatever it is," Brian interjected sipping his drink.

"Yeah, anyway, my Emily was the Action Manager or whatever they call it," Gerry continued. "Next thing I know, Sandra and me are tracking this fella and I get a call. It's only Emily telling me that them two have left her a post-it note and gone awol!"

After the laughter had run its course Gerry turned to Sandra. "Listen, you need to figure out why you'd want the job if you're going to go for it. But there's nothing stopping you, never has been."

"In general, people only ask for advice that they may not follow it; or if they should follow it, that they might have somebody to blame for giving it. Alexandre Dumas, The Three Musketeers," Brian supplemented.

"So when does this stop being a mid-life crisis?"

They had changed position, Bella now on Mia's lap, resting against the girl's legs which hung over the arm of the sofa while she laid back with her head on her father's thigh.

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"You and Sandra," she said simply. "Or is it like some sort of rebound thing? I mean it's been a while since you and my mum. How many relationships have you had in that time?"

Rob could do nothing but frown in confusion. He couldn't quite figure out from their very comfortable positions whether or not his daughter was being deliberately antagonistic or whether or not he was angry at her questions.

"I bet it's not as many as she's had," Mia continued, winking at Bella whose expression she was sure matched her father's, bemusement. "Mum I mean, not Sandra. I don't know actually, she's probably been around a bit. I mean she is pretty."

"Hermione…" Rob growled.

"Smart too," Mia shifted to sit up. She looked her father directly in the eye as she settled Bella against her ready to take her and get her ready for bed. "Successful. Caring. Strong," after every word she paused to allow her dad to interrupt or correct her. "Well spoken too," she added.

"Where are you going with this?" Rob asked.

Mia studied him for a minute and permitted him to do the same. She sniffed. Rob recognised his daughter's habit; she always sniffed before getting to the point.

"She loves you?" she asked seriously

He smiled.

"You love her?"

He nodded.

"Good," Mia sniffed again. She was aware of her own daughter beginning to fall asleep against her chest. Distracted for a moment, she moved the baby to rest more comfortably against her shoulder and slipped her feet off the sofa. Turning back to her dad's concerned face; she leant forward and kissed his cheek. "Relax. You're ready. Good night."

Rob blinked. "When did you get so grown up?"

She shrugged as she got off the sofa, "Don't let this be a mid-life crisis, Dad. You mean too much to each other."