"I left you an explanation."

"Oh, you mean this?" he held up a piece of crumpled paper that she recognised as her note, hastily written and discarded on the kitchen table. "'Working undercover tonight. Back in the morning.' You call that an explanation?"

"Please Stewart…" she sighed, moving past him into the kitchen. "It's been a really long day and I'm shattered."

"You should have called me!"

"I did! I called your office and Harry said that you weren't there. I was hardly going to give him chapter and verse about what I was doing, was I?"

"Then you should have waited for me!"

"What, phoned every hour on the off-chance you might be back? There wasn't time for that."

"Well, you should have made time. I'm your husband," he followed her. "I care about what happens to you. What do you think I thought when I read that?"

She shrugged. "That I was doing my job?"

"Anything could have happened to you! It's not fair to keep me in the dark like that!"

"Keeping you in the dark would have meant not leaving you any note at all and just not coming home. Besides, nine months ago you bit my head off when I called you to say I was working late one night. Who's to say you wouldn't have done the same thing this time around?" She filled a glass with water from the sink and gulped it down, hoping he would give up and let her go to bed.

"So, what exactly were you doing anyway?" he asked. "Not that I can't guess from what you're wearing."

She turned around to look at him. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Come on, you look like a slag."

Anger flared inside her, but she knew that it wasn't the right time or place to debate a woman's right to dress as she pleased. "You know I can't tell you anything about the job."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

"I see…" he looked her up and down. "Well, I suppose you don't really have to. I already know it's something for the Vice Squad."

She paused, "How do you know that?"

"It's not exactly hard to guess," he gestured to her. "But in any event, Burnside told me."

"Burnside? You…talked to Frank?"

"Oh, it's Frank now, is it?" he sneered at her. "Of course I spoke to him. After I came home and found your pathetic excuse for a note, I went straight round to Sun Hill!"

She slammed the glass down onto the counter. "You did what?"

"Ran into your boss in the carpark. He told me that you were working for the Vice Squad, that you were a good officer, that you'd been noticed…slimy git. I told him, I told him that I bet he'd had his rocks off seeing you all dressed up like a tart."

"How dare you!" She exclaimed, stepping towards him. "You had absolutely no right going to Sun Hill and even less right speaking to my boss like that!"

"I had every right!" he glared at her. "If something were to happen to you, if you hadn't come home tonight, who would have reported you missing, eh? Me!"

"If something had happened and I hadn't come home then everyone involved in the operation would have known about it! I can't believe you could be so arrogant as to…to…"

"To what? Show that I care? Let that arsehole boss of yours know that there's someone at home who cares about what happens to you? More than he's got for a start."

His faux level of concern irritated her. If she were a betting person, she would guess that mouthing off to Frank had been less about a concern for her safety and more about trying to prove some sort of point. She could only imagine what her boss had thought about it all. It was embarrassing, more than anything else. Nobody else in CID would have had their wife or girlfriend behave like that. "Well, thanks very much."

"Don't take that tone with me, Chris."

"I'll take any tone with you I bloody well like! I can't believe you did that! I can't believe you would be so…" she trailed off, unable to even find a word to adequately express how she felt. "I hope you know I'll be the talk of the steamie because of this!"

"He'll not say anything," Stewart waved his hand dismissively. "I told him that I knew about the way he treated you. Yeah…" he nodded. "Maybe it's time your glorious leader heard a few home truths. Like the fact that you're not going to allow him to treat you like shit."

She closed her eyes, feeling a pressure starting in her head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm going to bed."

"Hang on," he took hold of her arm as she made to move past him. "We're not finished."

"Yes, we are," she replied, pulling out of his grip. "Thanks a lot, darling. Thanks a bloody lot." Luckily he made no move to follow her as she left the kitchen and slowly climbed the stairs to bed. Standing in front of the mirror, scrubbing her face free of makeup, she couldn't help but replay her husband's words over in her head. If things had been bad before, they would be worse now. Frank wouldn't have taken kindly to being spoken to like that, not after what had happened before. If Stewart had been wanting to make things easier for her, he had failed miserably. "Except he didn't, did he?" she muttered to herself. "He didn't want to make things easier for you at all."

XXXX

"Guv, I really think you might be overreacting here."

"Overreacting?" Frank glared at Jim. "Overreacting? Well, I'm sorry Jim, but a woman shows up at the nick, shouting and bawling about how upset she is over you dumping her and causing a scene and you think I'm…overreacting?"

"Well…" Jim shifted uncomfortably in front of him.

"Explain to me how you think I should be reacting."

"Not like this anyway,"

"I see."

"Oh, come on Guv. I bet you've dumped a few ladies in your time."

Frank raised his eyebrows, "Of course I have James, but I don't pick complete loonies to go out with for a start, nor do I dump them in a way that's going to ensure that they come to my workplace and embarrass me! Half the relief witnessed her behaviour! You think that's appropriately professional, do you?"

"No…"

"Right then. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Jim eyed him, "What do you think I should do about it?"

The naivety of the younger man sometimes astounded him. "Talk to her, for Christ's sake! Explain your reasoning to her calmly and with a bit of sensitivity and if that doesn't work, nick her!"

"But I already tried that! She won't listen to reason!"

"Well try again!" The phone on his desk suddenly rang and he reached for the receiver. "You're supposed to be a police officer. What if there had been members of the public there when she kicked off? It doesn't look good on any of us, does it? And Conway wants answers from me about it. Burnside?"

"It's me."

The sound of her voice instantly drove Jim and his romantic predicaments from his mind. "Out!"

"But…"

"Out!" he snapped. Once the door had closed behind the other officer, he sat down behind his desk. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Where are you?"

"At home. I just woke up. I forgot how much working nights can play havoc with your system and it's only been one so far."

He glanced at his watch and saw that it was past four o'clock. "So, there's nothing wrong, nothing's happened?"

"No, not really."

"Not really? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means…" she paused. "It means that Stewart was waiting for me when I got home earlier. He's not too pleased about the operation and, well, he told me that he had spoken to you."

"Oh yeah, he did that all right."

She sighed heavily. "I wanted to apologise. He had no business talking to you the way he did. I'm sure he gave me the sanitised version but, well, I can imagine some of the things he might have said."

He toyed with saying nothing, then thought better of it. Perhaps she needed to know. "You mean about me apparently loving the idea of seeing you dressed like a tart and going home to think about you?" There was a momentary silence at the other end of the phone. "Forget it."

"I…wow I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't realise…"

"I said, forget it. So long as you're all right. How was it anyway?"

"Fine."

"What's he like, Patterson?"

"Creepy," she replied. "I saw some of the girls, but I didn't really get a chance to talk to any of them. For a brand-new club, it's a pretty popular place. I don't think I stopped serving all night." She paused. "Anyway, I just wanted to say sorry, for Stewart."

"What he does isn't down to you, we both know that."

"No, I suppose not." She paused again. "Well, I'd better go and grab something to eat and get ready for round two. Ritchie will be here to pick me up before I know it so…I'll see you tomorrow night, at the briefing?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. Can't have Driscoll thinking he's solely in charge."

"Ok then. Bye."

"Bye." He replaced the receiver and sat looking at it for a long moment, thinking about how much he'd like to shake Stewart Church until his teeth rattled. The fact that Christina felt she needed to apologise at all for her husband's actions irritated him more than he would have thought, not to mention the fact that he still had misgivings over Billy Driscoll's motives for using her at all. He couldn't help but wonder what Driscoll's connection with Stewart really was, beyond that of someone he considered to be an annoyance. It seemed quite a leap to go from being annoyed at someone to using their spouse for a potentially risky undercover job. He only hoped that, whatever the reason, it didn't end up with someone getting hurt.

XXXX

It was another busy night at the club and a good hour or so after she had started before Christina felt as though she had time to draw breath. Initially, she had thought it might be more of an exclusive place, limited clientele, quiet and select. On the contrary, it was, once moving, heaving with male bodies, mostly men in expensive suits with cash to flash about. As she served drinks and smiled prettily, she wondered how many of them had wives, girlfriends, even kids waiting at home for them. She wondered if any of them were police officers, or if Stewart had ever come to a place like this. It was a sobering thought, especially as she watched customer after customer disappear into the rooms at the back, accompanied by a young, apparently willing female.

"Everything all right?" Ryan asked, coming over to the bar and leaning it across it towards her.

"Yes, fine."

"Enjoying it?"

It seemed an odd question for one undercover officer to ask another, but she nodded and smiled. "I'm kept going anyway."

"Yes, you are," he smiled in return and then moved away as another flock of customers approached, looking for libation. As she watched him cross the room over to where Patterson was sitting, she couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to be deep undercover for so long. She wondered if Ryan had a family and if they had any idea where he was or what he was doing. It surely must have an effect on an officer's life and their personal relationships, not to mention the fear of what might happen if they were discovered.

"Hello…anyone home?" She was pulled back into the moment by a man on the other side of the bar waving money at her. "Can we order please?"

"Yes, of course," she replied, fixing him with a practiced winning smile. "What can I get for you?"

"A bottle of the best champagne please. We're celebrating."

"Coming right up." She turned and opened the fridge, lifting out one of the bottles and setting it onto the bar whilst she searched for an ice bucket. Moments later, as she was unwrapping the seal, she felt his eyes on her. "What's the occasion?" she asked casually.

"It's work related," he replied. "I just got a big promotion."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks." He eyed her up and down. "I'm John. How long have you been here then?"

"Not long." She procured some glasses and placed them onto a tray before ringing up the sale and passing him his change. "Enjoy your evening."

"Can you bring it over for us?" he asked, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to leave the bar," she replied, well aware that his request was less about his own ability to carry the tray and more about what else he might see.

"That's a shame," he pouted slightly. "You're too pretty to be stuck behind a bar all night."

Ryan suddenly appeared alongside him, his gaze swivelling between them. "Problem?"

"No," she replied.

"I was just asking if this beautiful creature couldn't bring our drinks to the table, but she said she's not allowed to leave the bar."

Ryan glanced around, "I'm sure the others can manage for five minutes, Tina. Do as the gentleman asks."

"Oh…ok," she said, slightly taken aback. "Not a problem." Smiling again, she made her way around the side of the bar and lifted the tray, following the group of men as they made their way over to an available table. "There you are," she said, placing it down in front of them.

"Could you pour for us, darling?" John asked.

"Absolutely." Lifting the bottle, she poured four equal sized glasses and placed them down in front of each customer.

"Won't you join us?"

"Oh no, I can't. I'm sorry," she straightened up and stepped back. "Perhaps another time."

"Yes," he looked her up and down. "Perhaps."

As she made her way back over to the bar, she felt her heart hammering in her chest. It was one thing serving behind the bar, even taking drinks to the table was fine, but she couldn't help but think that the next step, joining someone for a drink, would only inevitably lead to a request for something that was not within her undercover remit. At least…she hoped it wasn't. Every so often, however, she found herself glancing in the direction of the table and, even though there were plenty of girls willing to join the customers in question, she still felt John's eyes upon her.

When it was time for a break, just before midnight, she made her way outside through the back door, having gleaned the previous evening that many of the girls went out there to smoke and that it was probably the best place to find out anything useful. There were three other girls already there, all dressed like herself, smoking and laughing together, looking for all the world as though they were happy to be there. She made her way over to join them, smiling as she did and hoping that they would accept her. "Hiya."

"Hi," one of them replied. "Smoke?"

"Oh, thanks." She accepted a cigarette and allowed the girl to light it for her, aware that it had been almost ten years since one had graced her lips. She hoped it wouldn't be obvious. Inhaling gently, she blew out almost immediately. "Busy night."

"Yeah," the girl replied, glancing at the others. "I'm Ruby."

"Tina."

"This is Debbie and Molly," Ruby said, gesturing to the others and Christina smiled at them in turn. "We used to work in one of the other clubs, then Mr Patterson brought us here." She paused. "I don't recognise you though."

"No, I'm new. I only started yesterday."

"So, you haven't worked for Mr Patterson before then?"

"No." she dragged on the cigarette again. "Have you worked for him long?"

"A bit. How old are you?"

She opened her mouth to lie, then realised that there was probably little point. "Twenty-eight." The girls snickered. "What's funny about that?"

"You're a bit old," Debbie said.

"Well, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

The word came out so easily and yet it was clearly a lie. The others nodded their agreement and Christina found herself nodding along. "So, how long have you all worked for Mr Patterson then?"

"A while," Ruby replied. "We used to be over in Peckham." She paused. "Saw you talking to Ryan earlier."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You want to watch him. He's bad news."

Christina paused, "How do you mean?"

The back door opened once more and some other girls made their way out, causing Ruby to drop her cigarette on the ground and stub it out with her shoe. "Never mind. Let's go girls."

Before Christina could ask anything more, the three of them had disappeared back inside. For appearance sake, she finished the cigarette and then ventured back through the door, coming face to face with Ryan as she did so. "Oh, hi."

"You finished your break?" he asked, with no sign given that they were in any way affiliated.

"Yeah, I was just heading back."

"Good," he said. "Make sure you do."

"Yes sir," she muttered under her breath. Once back in the bar, she quickly fell back into the rigours of serving only for, moments later, John to reappear in front of her.

"Another bottle of champagne Tina darling," he said, peeling off some notes from the wad retrieved from his pocket. "And one for yourself."

"That's very kind, thank you," she replied. "I'll have one at the end of my shift."

"I do wish you'd come and sit with us," he lamented. "The other girls do."

"We have defined roles. I'm strictly drinks." It wasn't completely true she thought, after the words had left her mouth. Her job there had never really been properly defined, but there had certainly been no mention of her requiring to do anything extra.

"That's a shame," he said, "I like you."

"I like you too," she lied, handing him his change, gasping slightly as he caught her hand in his and kissed it.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, smiling at her. "Very glad to hear it."

XXXX

"Don't you have a home to go to?" Tosh asked, sticking his head around Frank's door. "It's past ten."

"I've got paperwork to finish," Frank replied. "Perk of being a DI I suppose."

"Well, if you will aspire to greatness," Tosh chuckled. "I doubt my Muriel would be happy though if it were me here late every night."

"Your Muriel's not happy about much, is she?" Frank looked up. "Besides, I would have thought with five kids to feed, she might be grateful for the extra money the privilege of rank would provide."

"You know me Guv, I'm happy where I am."

"Yeah…" he couldn't help but somewhat envy the other man for that. A happy marriage, kids, a home, even if they did seem to live hand to mouth most of the time. At least it was something. Someone to go home to at night. "Are you in court tomorrow?"

Tosh nodded, "All day I would imagine."

"Great, so I'm left with Ted, Jim and Alastair and a pile of investigations a foot high."

"Well, I'll be back on Thursday and I thought this was only a short-term job Chris was on."

"It is."

"Well then."

"Funny not having her around the place," he said, sitting back in his chair. "I suppose I've kind of got used to her annoying me."

Tosh paused, "It's only been two days."

Frank sat forwards again, conscious that the other man might read more into his comment than he intended him too. "Yeah well…I suppose that just goes to show how annoying she really is and how much you notice it when it's not there. Anyway, I'll see you on Thursday."

"Goodnight Guv," Tosh said, turning for the door. "For what it's worth, I reckon she'll be missing us too."

"Living it up undercover?" Frank scoffed. "No chance. She'll be having the time of her life."