"Evening" she pulled the door open on a particularly chilly Friday. "Do you have time for a drink?"

"Definitely" he smiled and stepped inside.

"Tea or…" he looked at her as if the answer was obvious enough. "Right" she stepped into the living room and headed to a drinks cabinet in the corner. Eddie slowly followed and took in the room, one he hadn't been in before. He assessed it quickly, before she could notice, eyes catching on books with broken spines and photo frames filled with her smiles. "Here" she handed him the glass. "Eddie!" She said suddenly, spotting the bruising across his knuckles.

"Relax" he said confidently in a way that made a sort of primal exhilaration shoot through her. "He had it coming" he smiled.

"I can't disagree with that" she handed him the glass. "I'm not sure I've said thank you" she looked away from him.

"For decking the prick?"

"No, well, I can't say I didn't enjoy it" she laughed. "For… helping me" she bit her lower lip unconsciously.

"Of course. We're a team right?" he said simply. Something meaningful flashed across her face and he could see she liked his words. She covered it with a smile then gestured to the sofa. "How many deputies have you had?" He watched her lick her lips.

"I haven't counted. A handful" she said

"Mostly men?"

"Yes. The male condition I suppose, positions of power" she smirked.

"Have you had accusations like that before?" She looked confused for a second. "That you and I…"

"You mean sleeping with my deputies?" She said casually and he felt tongue tied. "Yes, but maybe not as bold as that".

"Hmm, pretty bold" he muttered. Their gazes caught and both were silent for a moment. He was sure she was blushing, but he probably was too.

"But it's nothing revolutionary" she broke the silence. "First stop for the basic misogynist". He nodded in agreement. "And given your spirited defense of me, and the context, I guess it's… a pretty easy target" she was instantly uncomfortable.

"And I suppose, we've got good chemistry" he mused before he could stop the words leaving his mouth. She looked at him for a moment, assessing where that observation came from.

"You think?" She didn't give anything away.

"I… just mean-" he stopped as her fingers moved to his bruised hand, currently resting on the back of the sofa. She touched his knuckles gently. Electricity shot up his arm and for a moment he felt like an eighteen year old again, teetering on the edge of self control. Something in him screamed at him to move, to intertwine his fingers with hers, to push whatever this was just a little further.

"I know what you mean" she confirmed and he was surprised for a second then utterly relieved at the implication that maybe she felt something too. He was sure something mischievous appeared in her eyes. Almost as quickly as it had happened, her hand was gone.

"Right" he nodded and looked away.

"Hmm" was her only reply as she looked away too.

"Should've hit him harder" he allowed his voice to stay deep.

"Not sure that would've changed his mind" she smirked.

"The other schools you've worked at, they're all pretty rough?"

"Yes"

"The way you fought for Sameen. The way you fight for all of them" he stared as her expression immediately became sad. "If you'd… had that, would you have-" she looked away. "Is that why you do it? You could've gone anywhere, and you chose Waterloo Road… You give them what you wish you'd had?" Her eyes slid closed and for a second he could admire her.

"That or I'm a pathological control freak with a savior complex" she said so flatly it took him a second to register her sarcasm.

"Yeah, could be that" he knocked his glass against hers, hoping they both might be more honest with time.