Hello! It's good to be back in the UK. Got a lot of catching up to do with the new series and a lot of reading to do as it looks like everyone's been busy writing away! I'm being kept busy moving and decorating but am determined to try and keep regularly online. Here, for now, is the next part of Just This – enjoy! Jessie xx

Brian's Last Friday

"Do you have to go away?" she moaned, snuggling closer to him in the bed. It was Friday morning, Rob was due to leave straight from work for a weekend symposium in Brighton.

"It's only for two days," he laughed, stroking her hair. If he was honest, he didn't want to go either. It meant two days away from his family; despite the lengthy period of time when he had been on his own following his separation from Helen, he now found that any time away from his home-life to be an inconvenience.

"And two nights," she complained. She found herself increasingly attached to the life she had found and didn't relish not having him around for two whole empty days and nights. Not that the days would be empty, she had Bella and Mia for company; but the nights…

He laughed again. "You can manage two days and two nights without me, surely? Mia can cook."

She looked up at him. "I'm not incapable of feeding myself," she grumbled. "I didn't get by for forty-eight years without learning how to use a toaster."

He sighed and reluctantly pulled out of her hold. "Have I forgotten your birthday or something?" he asked sternly.

"What? No," she sat up in the bed, studying his face as he watched her.

"Then why is age so important? It's coming up a lot at the moment."

"No it's not," she denied.

"Last night," he corrected her. "We spent ten minutes at least discussing age and what it means. It doesn't matter. You of all people should know that."

"What because I spend my day with older men?" she laughed humourlessly. "It's pretty much how I started my career too."

He left his side of the conversation unsaid, waiting for her to fill it in for herself. They had spent the night previous discussing various things to do with the wedding, the move and the baby; and he was right, age had come up as a factor in the conversation more than once.

"No. It doesn't matter. And I do know that. No. It's just something the doctor said last week," she sighed. "He said that I should talk to my partner about continuing the pregnancy. Because of the heightened risks with being an 'elderly prima gravida.' He just made me feel old."

He shifted to sit beside her and lifted his arm. She nestled her head against his shoulder and allowed him to pull her legs over his lap. Leaning back against the headboard, he held her closely to him with one hand resting on her waist. "I think we need to find you a new doctor," he said.

"So, you're mother for the weekend then?"

"What?" Sandra flicked her head so fast that she thought for a second she'd given herself whiplash as she reacted to Gerry's insinuation. With three more weeks in which to think of how to tell the boys, she started racking her brain for the moment she'd let it slip. And if she had, she'd lost the bet that she and Rob had made; which meant she had to cook dinner for a week.

"You, looking after the family for the weekend, while Strickland's away," he elaborated as they left the office on the way to see a suspect while Steve and Brian showed Nick how to access the numerous databases that they used in their work.

"Oh, yeah, right," she murmured, looking in her bag. "Where are my keys?"

"Unless there's something you're not telling us?" he teased. "Come to think of it, your boobs do look bigger. Is there something you want to…"

"Shut up Gerry," she said flatly and led the way up the stairs.

"I only asked her!" Gerry expounded later as he whined to Brian. The UCOS office had felt rather crowded these last few days but now, watching his friend and colleague of the last ten years pack his personal belongings into a cardboard box, the weight of the reasons why were hitting hard. "And she didn't say no…"

"She didn't say yes either," Brian noted sagely. He placed his stapler deliberately next to the box of spare staples, wondering briefly when he was going to use them again. "And besides, you didn't exactly ask her did you? Just told her that her boobs looked big."

"Yeah, and?"

"In my experience, Gerry, women don't take kindly to observations on their physical appearance. Particularly observations of things getting larger."

Gerry snorted. "Yeah, s'pose so. Come to think of it, the time I told Carol that her bum did look massive in the dress she was wearing… well let's just say I can still hear the slap now!"

Brian laughed and looked about his former workstation. There wasn't anything left of him there now except for memories. Good memories. Happy memories. He looked back at the box on his desk, it was all in there. Systematically packed. Organised. Finished.

"Come on then," Gerry said quietly as the reality of the moment they were in began to sink in. He wasn't any good at goodbyes. "Stick your bloody bike in my car for the last time and we'll get to the pub."

"Yeah," Brian murmured with the air of a man who has something to say but with great uncertainty.

"You alright mate? What is it?"

Brian turned and looked at him. Suddenly he felt very much the older brother; this was the last time they would be alone together. As soon as they got to the pub there would be Sandra and Steve and a thousand uninterested ears all around them. This was the private last moment. He didn't have any advice to impart, any secrets left to tell; and he refused to say goodbye. Gerry would be the last man standing from the first days of UCOS. He would be Sandra's certainty now. Sandra, their boss, their sister. Sandra, the one he was thinking of as he realised what he needed to say. "You will try to get along with him, won't you?"

"Who? Nick? Yeah, he's alright innit?" Gerry said quickly before he realised what Brian was getting at. "You mean Strickland don't you?"

Brian nodded.

"Brian, you know when you asked him those things? You asked if he loved her. You never asked if she loved him," Gerry had been pondering this particular conundrum for several days. It still boggled his mind that Brian had come out with such considered and pertinent questions. It still boggled his mind that Sandra was actually seeing the DAC. Let alone that the tosser wanted to marry her. His mind had turned to wondering what treatment he would give any potential suitors to his daughters; then it had shuddered at the thought.

"Didn't need to," Brian said plainly handing Gerry the cardboard box. Sighing as his former colleague looked patiently for more elucidation he continued. "You know she does. Whatever we think of him, she loves him."

"Yeah, s'pose so," Gerry agreed. "He's alright really, isn't he?"

"For a tosser," Brian returned, deliberately emphasising the well-rehearsed view that all DACs are tossers and reminding Gerry in three words of all the times they shared the same jokes, the same humour. They were old bill at the end of the day, both of them, however different personality wise they were.

Gerry laughed softly and took the box from Brian's desk while Brian pulled his bike from it's corner. The space looked so empty now. He glanced towards his own new area by Sandra's office. He was the old boy now. He'd started out the youngest, the one that she hadn't wanted. Now he was the one who would be filling Jack's shoes. He knew it. It wasn't a case of replacing Jack; but he was going to be the one that had to hold her back at the right moments, talk her down when she needed to be, be the bad guy when the other two misbehaved. He remembered his promise to Jack; a promise that the old sod had made for him, but that he'd made himself the moment he'd read the words in Jack's letter to him. He would look after them still, whatever happened. He was the man of the office. He looked around and caught sight of the cake tin on the side. Nick had moved in now. His partner had sent him to the office that morning with a tin of home-made biscuits as a first week/Brian's last day treat. He'd gotten on alright with the newbie so far. But he'd never replace Brian. "Do you fancy going fishing Sunday?"

Brian looked at his friend curiously. "Aye, why not," he replied. He allowed himself one last survey of their office. Sandra's private area, closed off as she'd stepped out earlier for some meeting or other promising to meet them at the pub, almost tidy for her from what he could see; Jack's desk now bearing Gerry's trademark mess; Nick's desk, oddly neat; the never-that-tidy Tidy table; the kitchenette where his mug no longer sat; Steve's chair and the coffee table facing the case board. UCOS had been his saviour, his home, his purpose; but his part in that story had come to an end. He'd always been a copper. He'd always be a copper. But now he had to be a husband. If he was a proud man he'd curse that it wasn't a more auspicious ending; if he were a bitter man he'd be enraged that it was something that he couldn't even see that was causing him to leave the job he loved. But Brian 'Memory' Lane was neither of these things. It was time, as it would always have been. No longer was he now following his colleague out of the office, but his friend. And that was a chapter that would never close. "Come on then," he added lightly. "Pub."