Some of the dialogue in this chapter comes from the episode 'Corkscrew.' I don't own anything you might recognise.

"Look, we've been through all this…"

"I'm sorry Frank," Brownlow said, "but we need to establish what went wrong with Middleman!"

"I know what went wrong with Middleman!" Frank retorted. "That slag Stoller did a number on me only you won't let me get to him so I can clear it up!"

Derek stepped forwards. "Listen Frank…"

"Gordon Wray walks in here, having pulled God knows what strokes with the Drugs Squad, we don't know him from Adam, he gets the run of the manor!"

"Inspector Burnside, we wouldn't need to talk to you again if you cooperated with us in the first place!" Brownlow exclaimed.

"I've got nothing to hide."

"You didn't make it clear earlier on that your information from Stoller was an entirely private arrangement between you and him!" Derek said.

"That's the way I do business with snouts, no secret."

"The way you described it earlier the information came from an interview that you and Greig conducted with him!"

"It came as a result of the interview, what's the difference?"

"The difference is that prior to the briefing you were the only officer who knew where the raid would be!" Brownlow said.

"Stoller knew!"

"Stoller's contact, Mark Duggan, wasn't warned of the raid."

Frank felt his patience crack. "So far, I've put up with this. Now if I'm under investigation I want a Form 163 laying out the charges against me."

"Look Frank, we were rather hoping we could deal with this informally."

"No Form 163? No comment." Turning his back, he strode towards the door of the portacabin, throwing it open and almost crashing into Christina in the process. "And where are you going?" he demanded. "You been summoned to give them your opinion on me?"

"No," she blinked, holding up a folder. "I've got the report for Conway on the crime figures and after what you said I thought I'd better…"

"Oh, good for you!" he snapped, pushing past her. "Make sure you suck up good and proper!"

"Frank!"

"Forget it, I'm not interested." He barrelled on, ignoring her until he reached his car, climbed in and slammed the door shut. This couldn't be happening, not now, not after everything he had done and everything he had given to the job, to Sun Hill. The fact that Brownlow and Conway were so eager to believe that he was responsible, the fact that they seemed to have no idea what he was about, even after the time that he'd been there…it pissed him off. What else did he have in this life other than his job? What else did he have to pour his energies into if it wasn't nicking villains and trying to make the streets of his ground safer for the people who lived there? There was no comely wife and adoring kids waiting at home for him. The job was who he was, and he'd be damned if he was going to let a snivelling weasel like Kenny Stoller take that away from him.

XXXX

"Yes, what it is?" Derek snapped as Christina knocked on the portacabin door and pushed it open. "WDC Lewis?"

"Yes sir, apologies, have I come at a bad time?" It was rather a stupid question given the way Frank had stormed out moments earlier, but she felt it prudent to ask in any event.

"No, it's fine," he sighed. "What is it you need?"

"It was just to give you the crime figures report the DI asked me to compile for you," she replied, setting the folder down on the desk. "Everything should be there, and it should hopefully be clear, but you can let me know if you need me to do anything else."

"Right, thank you," Derek replied, lifting it and tossing down beside his desk. He looked over at her as she continued to hover. "Was there something else?"

"Well…" she paused, weighing up the wisdom of putting forwards her opinion and how it might be perceived. "It was just…"

"What is it Constable?" Brownlow asked, a note of impatience creeping into his tone.

"Mr Burnside."

"What about him?"

"Well, I couldn't help overhearing raised voices a moment ago and…"

"That's a private matter," Derek interrupted. "It's nothing that you need concern yourself with."

"I appreciate that sir, and I know I wasn't part of Operation Middleman but, well, I'd be remiss if I didn't say that any suggestion the DI had anything to do with what happened is, quite frankly, ridiculous." Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as she spoke. Giving a forthright opinion to senior officers had never really been something she had ever done before and yet, something spurred her on. "He's the most dedicated officer at Sun Hill, no disrespect intended, and he was a great advocate for the operation, so it makes no sense to suggest…"

"I appreciate your views WDC Lewis," Brownlow interrupted her. "But as Chief Inspector Conway said, this is a private matter between us and Inspector Burnside."

"I know that sir, but…"

"No buts!" Derek said. "Now, if that's everything…"

"It would be a great loss to Sun Hill if he left," she said quickly. "That's all I wanted to say, sir, thank you."

Brownlow looked at her for a long moment and she felt herself shift under his gaze. "Thank you for your input. I'm sure DI Burnside would be gladdened by your loyalty."

"Yes sir." Turning, she made her way back across the portacabin, letting out a long breath as she emerged back into the mild air. Perhaps she should have said nothing. Perhaps aligning herself with Frank was a mistake. If he was somehow involved…she shook her head angrily, knowing deep within that he wasn't. If he was right, and there were others in the department who no longer had faith in him, she knew that she needed to stay steadfast. He needed her and, somewhat inappropriately, that made her feel good.

XXXX

It was late in the afternoon and with little information trickling down to him about what was happening, Frank had found himself sitting in the CID portacabin unsure what to do. Gordon Wray had seemingly taken over, been given carte blanche to do as he liked, and the wall of silence was starting to get to him. He didn't like being kept out of the loop, never had done, and when events behind the scenes could have a serious impact on him, it made it ten times worse. After speaking with Brownlow and Conway he had taken himself to the pub for some lunch and a quick half, returning only when he felt he had possibly calmed down enough to have a rational conversation with someone.

Across the structure, Christina was sitting going over some statements for a robbery case that she was investigating. They had engaged in little conversation but, somehow, just her very presence made him feel better. He knew she was an ally and probably his only one. At some point, an idea had struck him, and he had scrolled through his address book looking for the number of an old friend, Peter Bailey. Bailey was a DCI with the Fraud Squad and had on more than one occasion over a drink, extolled the virtues of working there. Whilst the idea of chasing dodgy money transactions had never really appealed to him, he had to admit that a move might be better than being slung out. So, he had called Peter and, after exchanging niceties, decided to get down to the nub of his call.

"You know you told me to give you a bell if I was ever thinking about making a major career move?" Christina's head shot up and she looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, well that would be fine. Maybe we could meet for a drink."

At that point, the portacabin door opened and Tosh appeared. Their gazes locked briefly before the other man made to exit again through the back door. "Great, well maybe you can get your secretary to give me a bell. Oi, Tosh! Sorry about that," he said as Tosh paused and turned back around. "Listen, I'll get back to you or you get back to me. Nice talking to you. Bye." He put the phone down and faced his officer. "Well?"

"Guv?"

"What's Wray been up to?"

Tosh paused, clearly unwilling to divulge details. "He's been putting himself about a bit."

"What did he get out of Stoller?"

"You'd best ask him that yourself, hadn't you?" he replied, turning once more for the door.

"Tosh, you want to make up your mind whether you're on my firm or not!" Frank said, leaping to his feet.

"I wasn't there when he talked to Stoller, was I? I only picked him up afterwards."

Frank paused. "What else?"

"He interviewed Mark Duggan."

"And?"

Tosh shook his head with apparent contempt. "Nothing."

"You start bullshitting me Lines and you'll live to regret it!" Frank exclaimed. "They haven't got the skids under me yet you know!"

"All right, I'll tell you something, shall I and see how you like it," Tosh snapped. "This whole deal smells like bent coppers and I'm watching my back! Because when a diarrhoea bomb like that goes off, everybody gets splattered!" He turned and, glancing quickly at Christina, left by the back door, slamming it behind him.

For a moment, neither of them said anything and Frank found himself almost speechless. "Well…" he said when he finally found his voice. "I guess we all know where Tosh stands." He made his way back over to his desk. "You agree with him?"

"That there seems to be a bad smell surrounding Middleman, yes," she replied. "That it's got anything to do with you, no."

"So, if it wasn't me, then who was it?"

"It has to be Stoller, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, that's my thinking."

"Guv…that phone call…"

"What phone call?"

"The one you just had there before Tosh came in."

"What about it?"

"You weren't serious, were you? About making a move somewhere else?"

He shifted in his seat. "Maybe. Maybe I've been on division too long. Maybe I should be looking for something else, a new challenge. If I'm not trusted here, what's the point?"

"I'd miss you if you went."

"Would you?" he met her gaze. "You'd get used to whoever took my place. You got used to me after Roy Galloway, didn't you?"

"I suppose so, but then you're not like Roy Galloway, are you?"

"No? In what sense?"

She paused and then looked away, "Well, you're just different, that's all. And besides, it took long enough to get used to you. I don't really fancy going through the whole process again so soon."

He smiled, "No, I don't really fancy having to go through the whole process of getting to know a new team either. Maybe I should just let them kick me out."

"You're not going to get kicked out," she said, getting to her feet and crossing the space towards him. "I think a few of us might have something to say about that. I told Brownlow and Conway…"

"You told them what?" he interrupted sharply, getting to his feet again. "What did you say?"

"Well, just that any suggestion you were involved in screwing up the operation was ridiculous. I'm sorry Guv, I know it was none of my business and I'm pretty sure they just disregarded what I'd said the moment I left but…I still wanted to say it."

He felt a rush of gratitude sweep over him even if, as she had said, her words would have had little impact. The fact that she had said them meant more to him than he knew she would ever know. "Well, I'm grateful. Thank you."

"You're welcome." She paused. "Look, Stewart's working late tonight. Why don't we grab a drink, talk about something other than work?"

He paused, weighing up the wisdom or otherwise of her suggestion, particularly in light of past comments made, and realised almost immediately that he didn't care. "Sounds great to me. How about the Rose and Crown, eight o'clock?"

She smiled, "Perfect."

XXXX

By the time evening rolled around, Christina had had enough. No-one was saying anything about Middleman or what was happening now in light of Gordon Wray's enquiries, Frank had disappeared and the atmosphere in the portacabin amongst those who were there was bordering on the unbearable. They were all meant to be working and yet very little seemed to be getting done. Any time she tried to start a generic conversation either she got a one-word response or none at all.

"Well, you lot are a barrel of laughs to work with today," she commented wryly. "You'd think there had been a death in the family."

"I suppose we're all just weighing our options," Jim replied.

"What options?"

"Our options here. Maybe being an officer at Sun Hill is going to carry a black mark from now on."

"Well, why don't you piss off to another nick then," she said acerbically. "Honestly, you're all as bad as each other and you…" she pointed at Tosh. "You were well out of order earlier."

"Oh really?" he replied, "How so?"

"You shouldn't have said what you said to the Guvnor."

"What did I say?"

"You practically accused him of being bent!"

"If the shoe fits…" Alistair muttered.

"Oh, don't you start Sarge. You clearly couldn't wait to go traipsing to Brownlow and Conway and tell them all about how the DI was alone with Stoller. If anyone dropped him in it, it was you!"

"I only answered the questions I was asked," Alistair replied. "What else was I supposed to do, lie? Cover up for him?"

"You know as well as I do that most officers see snouts on their own."

"Yeah, and that's not how it should be. There should be two handlers, if only to prevent cock-ups like this."

Christina shook her head, unable to believe the stubbornness. "You still think that having got the information from Stoller; the DI tipped off the drugs gang?"

"None of us know what to think, Chris," Mike spoke up. "Besides, you weren't there, so you don't know."

"I don't have to have been there. I trust the DI and so should you."

"So, you said earlier," Tosh commented. "Maybe you shouldn't be quite so trusting. Some people have got ulterior motives." The phone on his desk buzzed and he picked it up before she could ask him to elaborate. "Right Guv, I'll be right there." Replacing the receiver, he got to his feet. "I have to go and do some real police work now. See you all later."

Christina watched him go, his words churning over in her mind. She couldn't see how she could be too trusting of Frank. She trusted him; that was it. There was no other derivation. But then, thinking back to how she had felt before, wondering if others in the station could tell that her trust really stemmed from something else, she suddenly considered whether being so vocal was really doing Frank's case any good at all.

Glancing at her watch she saw that it was seven forty-five. By the time she had gone to the loo and then made her way to the pub it would be eight o'clock and she didn't want to be late, not if she was the only person he felt he could speak to. "Right, I'm going too. I'll see you all tomorrow when, hopefully, the mood here is significantly better." There were a few grunted replies and as she pushed the door open, she found herself despairing of them all.

XXXX

Frank tried to avoid the station as much as he could for the rest of the day. He didn't want to be sat there whilst innuendos swirled around him and especially not if others, like Tosh, intended to vent their spleens at him. The whole business had shown up exactly how some of the team really viewed him and that irked him almost more than the whole sorry mess itself. The only bright spot in the whole thing had been Christina and the fact she had stood up for him in front of Conway and Brownlow. When he thought about it, imagined the scene, it brought a smile to his face and slightly lurid thoughts to his mind. In all seriousness though, she had proved herself loyal to a fault. He wouldn't forget that.

As the hands on his watch slipped closer to eight o'clock and their planned session in the pub, he found his spirits lifting slightly. Making his way to his car, he almost felt the blanket of doom that had seemingly settled over him shift, only for Viv to stop him just as he put his key in the door.

"Guv?"

Looking up, he saw her standing on the stairs leading up to the CID portacabin. Instantly he wondered if she, or any of the others, knew where he was going or who he was meeting and, in that moment, he thought he'd better put on a bit of a show, a bit of the Frank Burnside they all expected. "Hello Viv, when are you going to come round and look at my ceiling?"

"Why, you got a leak?" She grinned, taking his comment in the spirit in which it was intended, and held out a slip of paper towards him. "Message from DI Wray, sir."

Immediately, his mood darkened again. "Oh yeah? Make his day, tell him I'm dead."

"It is urgent. He said to try your home if we didn't catch you here or round the pub."

With a sigh he took the note from her, opened it and read the words inside.

St Hughes, Ward 7, Room 14. Come alone.

The cryptic nature of if meant it had to be something to do with the operation, something that Gordon had found out and was willing to share with him. Maybe it would be bad for him, but maybe it would good. Either way, he knew that refusing would only sign his own leaving card. "Cheers Viv," he said, pocketing the note and getting into the car. As he turned out of the yard in the direction of the hospital, all thoughts of a certain flame-haired colleague and a meeting at the Rose and Crown went completely out of his head.

XXXX

By the time the clock on the wall of the pub hit nine o'clock, Christina felt as though there was nothing else to conclude but that he wasn't coming. As she drained her third coke and put the glass back down on the table, she felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment that unsettled her. It had only been a drink in the pub after all, and they had done it before on numerous occasions and yet, in a strange way, she had been looking forward to it. Perhaps it was because she knew she was the only person he could confide in at that moment, given everyone else's views, or perhaps it was something else.

Getting to her feet, she pulled on her jacket and made her way out of the door, glancing up and down the street a few times just in case he was running late. But of course, there was late and then there was being stood up. Not that she was supposed to think on it in that way. It hadn't been a date, after all, and she had a husband to be getting home to. Maybe the whole idea had been a bad one after all.

She could only hope that whatever it was that had kept Frank from meeting her, it turned out to be worth it, for his sake.

XXXX

As far as Frank was concerned, the night's events had proved a tremendous success and, if asked, would have said they had indeed been worth it. When he had reached St Hughes, Mark Duggan had coughed his guts about how Kenny Stoller had indeed been the leak but, more than that, Kenny had then told a current serving police officer at Barton Street, Terry Coles, about the operation and it had been Coles who had blown it out. Duggan had been willing to testify and, once they had apprehended Stoller, with Frank getting a few digs in for good measure, he had agreed to wear a wire to a meeting with Coles. It had been Gordon's idea to video the assignation which had proved fruitful when the cameras had caught Coles deliberately planting a knife on Stoller and assaulting him. The troops having swept in, Coles had been arrested and Frank had been vindicated, not before time. The jubilant entourage had then descended on the Black Grape for a celebratory gargle and whilst none of them had come right out and apologised to him for assumptions they had made, he could tell that they were all slightly chastened. He could work with that. It might even be fun.

It had only been once they had ordered the first round that he remembered about Christina. It was almost ten by that point, however, and he knew that she would have left the Rose and Crown long ago. A slight wave of panic had washed over him at the thought of her sitting alone waiting for him, perhaps thinking that he had deliberately decided not to meet her. But calling her at home to explain might look a bit off, especially if Stewart answered so he reassured himself that she would ultimately understand. He'd buy her a coffee tomorrow and maybe even a doughnut to make up for it. Anyway, she'd probably be pleased that it had all worked out for him in the end.

As he sat slightly apart with Gordon, watching the others laugh and joke together at the bar, he couldn't help but feel an affinity for his team, despite it all. "Great bunch of lads," he observed. "Good esprit de corps."

"Yeah, definitely the team to have behind you in a crisis."

"I'll drink to that."

"Still," Gordon said, "I like to keep out of the crisis in the first place. Not the way I like to do things normally, cutting corners, getting your chestnuts out of the fire just before they go bang."

"Yeah well, everybody's different," Frank replied. "Still, you won't have to worry about the way we do things at Sun Hill after tonight, will you?" The fact that Gordon would be leaving filled him with almost as much pleasure as the success of the operation had.

Gordon glanced around. "Can I tell you something in confidence?"

"Goes without saying, Gordon."

"I've got my promotion. DCI."

"Glad to hear it," he said charitably, despite what he really thought. "Hope I don't have to wait until I'm your age."

"I'll be moving out of the Drugs Squad and back to divisional duties."

"Oh yeah? Whereabouts?"

Gordon smiled smugly. "Sun Hill, Frank, I'm your new guvnor."