A/N Just a little something to try and atone for the darkness of 'End Refrain'; hopefully this is a bit lighter though possibly a bit OOC, too.

One And One

Chapter One

She'd been trying to ignore it, she really had, but her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sentence that had just assaulted her ears. She'd never heard anyone be called that particular phrase before; in fact, she wasn't entirely sure what it meant but, given the tone it had been unleashed with, she knew that it certainly wasn't much of a compliment. Actually, given the person who'd uttered those words, and the individual at whom they'd been aimed, a compliment would be the last thing it could possibly be these days. A small, rueful smile graced her lips as a memory of better times infiltrated her thoughts, whisking her away to the not so distant past when Fenchurch East CID had been a more pleasant - as far as police stations went - place to work. She dwelt there briefly until the argument peaked again and drowned out her nostalgia. A small sigh escaping her lips, she quietly hoped that it wouldn't go on any longer and she wasn't just thinking of this latest spat; the pointless arguing over every little detail and the bitter sniping, only broken by the long cold silences, all combined to coat the office with a thick layer of tension they could all do without. Well, herself at least.

Shaz glanced around the office, searching for some kind of sign from her colleagues that they agreed with her appraisal but all she found was silence. Everyone else was ignoring the blazing row coming from the Guv's office or trying their best to, anyway. Not even Chris was willing to make eye contact with her, most likely because he knew that she'd want to do something about it and would try to enlist his help. It annoyed her, almost as much as the arguing itself, how the others were all so blase about their superior officers kicking off at the drop of a truncheon. They didn't seem to realise, or care about, where it was heading: it was becoming familiar now, evidenced by the rest of CID's responses, and if someone didn't do something soon it would gradually slide into expected, into normality.

She glared fiercely, though ineffectively, at her fiance. They had discussed the situation several times before but Chris was of the opinion that it'd all work its way out eventually and to leave well alone. He might have had a point; getting involved wasn't going to do him any favours as the Guv was still breathing down his neck over his little 'lapse', making him the last person the Guv'd listen to. And Shaz knew, deep down, that neither of their superiors was likely to listen to her or Chris, or anyone else on the team, anyway. That's why, despite her concerns, she'd kept quiet so far, too. But quietly hoping and praying wasn't working and with the wedding drawing ever nearer the frosty atmosphere that followed Hunt and Drake wherever they went had the potential to ruin her big day. 'Their' big day, she corrected herself quickly, guiltily looking away from Chris at that thought though he was far too busy ignoring her to notice.

Briefly checking the letter she was supposed to be typing she attempted to continue with the task in hand, trying not to think about what might happen on her special day or what was currently occurring. It was impossible though and she quickly descended into banging unnecessarily hard on each and every key as the argument continued and her concern - it definitely was not selfishness on her part though surely she was allowed to be in these circumstances? - rose once more. It was almost therapeutic, pounding away on the keys, but she struggled to make herself heard over the din that was still emanating from the office behind her. She glanced Chris' way once more, uncaring that she was likely to be making errors with the letter, and willed him to take notice. Eventually, after further abuse that her typewriter might never recover from, her husband to be took the hint and looked her way, her hopes rising with the action. She couldn't do anything by herself but if they all worked together, like the team they were supposed to be, maybe they could do something. Disappointingly Chris only offered her a weak smile in response.

"Sounds like they're really going for it this time," Chris said quietly, as if the subjects of his comment could somehow hear him or were even interested in anything other than themselves right then.

"No change there," Ray groused, casually turning a page of his paper over.

Her gaze lowered in silent defeat to the paper in front of her. Ray's statement wasn't strictly true, though. Yes, the last few weeks had followed much the same pattern as today but it hadn't always been that way. DI Drake and the Guv had always argued with each other, right from the moment the Inspector had transferred to Fenchurch East and had told the Guv, after barely five minutes, that he was completely wrong about the drugs bust they'd all been working on for months. But it had never been like this. In fact, things had actually improved between their DCI and DI before they'd turned sour. There'd been a kind of calm before the storm when the Guv and DI Drake had been working together in complete secrecy to expose Superintendent Macintosh and she hadn't been the only one to notice. She'd rebuked Chris and Ray at the time for their crass comments but she'd also started to wonder if there was something more going on than friendship. Sometimes, when she'd watched them in the quiet of an interview room or a dark corner of Luigi's, she'd almost believed there was. Then the gold bullion heist had driven its armoured truck between them.

The argument the night before the blag, with the two of them at odds like never before, had been the start of it and also a sign of things to come. What made it worse was that, as far as she could work out, it had all been over a misunderstanding - not that either party was particularly forthcoming on the subject. For some, still unclear, reason the Guv had thought that DI Drake had been involved in the blag so had promptly suspended her. With Chris having found himself caught up in it so easily she assumed that the Guv had just been on edge, had started seeing betrayal in every little detail, but Shaz hadn't believed it for a second. Nobody had really; to her surprise not even Ray had truly believed that DI Drake could be corrupt. Of course the Inspector hadn't been involved, had only been as intent as everyone else on stopping the blag. What should have happened on the day of the heist was a dozen or so arrests and about as many 'I told you sos' from Inspector Drake. Unfortunately what happened was the Guv shot DI Drake.

It hadn't been intentional, DI Drake had cleared up that matter as soon as she'd regained consciousness but not everything had been corrected so easily. She glanced briefly over her shoulder but could only make out two animated shadows through the shield of blinds. It was going on longer than usual and she looked over to the other side of the room again, this time searching for an explanation. The distinct lack of activity after the morning's jaunt pointed towards the source of today's argument - not that either of them really needed an excuse to disagree these days. Any little thing would do as long as it gave one of them the excuse to have a go at the other. "What happened today?" she asked, her fiance quickly glancing her way.

"Nothing," Chris answered after a moment's thought. "Campbell wasn't even there."

"And that was the problem," Ray muttered without even looking up from his newspaper. "Drake was adamant he would be."

The door to the Guv's office flew open at that moment, banging into the inner wall with force. "And do you know what the worst thing is, Gene bloody Hunt?" DI Drake snarled as she paused in the doorway. "I had what I wanted and I gave it up for..." the Inspector waved her arms frantically around herself, the Guv and then the office, as if doing so could help in her search for the right words. "For this. I don't know what I was thinking!" With that she turned on her heel and walked down the centre of CID, heading for the double doors.

"That makes two of us, then," DCI Hunt hollered after her, the door to his office slamming shut with more force than it had just been opened, seemingly unable to resist the lure of going one better than his DI.

"Ma'am?" Shaz asked as she stood up, an urge to make sure that the older woman was all right shaking her out of the silence that everybody else seemed determined to embrace.

"Not now, Shaz."

She watched the Inspector storm out of the office without so much as a backwards glance before sitting back down in her chair, a small sigh escaping her mouth once more and feeling immeasurably sad for the other woman. As troubled by DI Drake's crumbling relationship with the Guv as Shaz was she knew that it was far worse for the Inspector. Accepted convention was that their Inspector was pissed off with their DCI because he'd virtually accused her of being corrupt, had unnecessarily suspended her and had then shot her. Shaz had almost believed it herself because it was a potent mixture but she'd visited the Inspector in hospital the day after she'd made her statement regarding the shooting and at that point DI Drake had seemed so confident that, although they had both said some regrettable things, she and the Guv would be able to work it all out. She hadn't been able to redress the discrepancy between that assertion and the arguing that had followed until just the other week when, over a bottle or two of wine in the privacy of DI Drake's flat, the older woman had let slip, as tears had rolled down her cheeks, that the Guv had distanced himself from her. And that he'd never once apologised for not trusting her, or for shooting her, or for some other discretion that Shaz hadn't quite understood as an inebriated and emotionally exhausted Alex Drake had passed out on the sofa halfway through.

Noticing the rude words in the middle of her letter, Shaz tore the paper out of her typewriter, crumpled it up into a ball and prepared to start again. She had wanted to tell DI Drake her own thoughts on the matter that night but hadn't dared, not that the other woman would have been sober enough to comprehend; now she just didn't dare because the Inspector was either pretending the night hadn't happened or genuinely didn't remember breaking down in front of her. It was only supposition on her part but it seemed obvious, given the way the Guv would react whenever DI Drake, usually in the middle of an argument, threw the fact that he'd shot her in his face, that it was guilt that had kept him away. He'd had the excuse of being a wanted man before the Inspector had cleared him of any wrongdoing for staying away but he hadn't went anywhere near her after that either. She'd kept hinting to him, offering not to go to the hospital if he wanted to but he'd always come up with some reason not to before giving her his patented 'end of discussion' pout. Maybe he'd intended to make amends when the Inspector had fully recovered, maybe he thought he wouldn't have to; either way, by the time DI Drake had returned to work it was too late. It seemed quite clear now that she'd taken his absence as a sign that he didn't care and had promptly laid into him at the first opportunity; his retaliation to the attack had been the only certainty after that. Now they were both too far down the road to see the signs they'd previously ignored. Both hopelessly lost.

As both parties were as stubborn as each other this uncomfortable status seemed doomed to continue which was such a shame because it seemed to her that it could be prevented from going any further with just a bit of effort and some honesty - from both of them. And she might be more hopeless romantic than new romantic lately but she still thought that there was more to their relationship than appeared; they couldn't possibly be so angry if they didn't actually care about one another. There was a fine line between love and hate - she'd heard that on the television once and she was sure it was relevant in this instance.

Chris rose slowly from his own seat and carefully walked across the office towards Shaz, so as not to incur the lion's wrath. "We could change the seating plan?" he offered - rather perceptively - as he leant over her shoulder, neglecting to mention that when he said 'we' he really meant her.

Shaz frowned at his words; she'd already changed the plan several times and its perfection had been just about reached when the Guv and DI Drake had decided not to get along. The two of them hadn't spent time together outside of work since the night the Guv had brought that woman to Luigi's and that had been a bit uncomfortable all round. Since then the Inspector had remained in her flat most nights, presumably drinking alone; she needn't have bothered as the Guv had found somewhere else to drink, too. Both resolutely avoiding the other and now she was going to seat them together for an afternoon. She had visions of food fights, her family cowering under the tables and - if Ray really wasn't winding her up - Chris' family merrily joining in. If she didn't do something the police would end up being called out to her wedding rather than being invited to it.

Originally she'd had them seated together because of that suspicion about their relationship and because neither had asked to bring a guest; she'd hung on to that plan, hoping that they would work things out before the wedding. She couldn't just uninvite them. In her head she could picture the hall, where each of the tables would be, the smiling faces of the people seated there and she tried to imagine how she could place Hunt and Drake as far away from each other as possible without upsetting the already delicate balance she'd achieved. Neither had changed their mind and asked to bring a guest which on the one hand was a good sign that she might just be right about the two of them, with the added bonus that one of them wouldn't be even more pissed off with the other on the day, but on the other hand it didn't help with the reshuffling.

She sighed for a third time because it was pointless anyway - she wouldn't be able to keep them apart the entire time. It could still blow up at some point. But it was more than that; she would be unhappy if her wedding day was marred by their behaviour but they would still be miserable, too and that would make her unhappier. Someone really needed to make them sit down and talk things out. Someone braver than her. Her frown slowly evened out. "We could change the seating plan," she agreed, an idea forming in her head.