I know it's been a very long time since I've updated *looks ashamed* In my (weak) defence, I've been working on a private project! I actually had to check back over the previous chapters to refresh my memory, so I'm sure nobody reading this can remember anything;)

Renewed thanks to anyone who reads my stories despite my laziness, anyway. Reviews would be really appreciated!x

Chapter Five | Scars

"How are you doing?"

"You want the namby-pamby 'I'm fine' answer I've been giving everyone?" Gill asked, "Or the truth?"

She and Julie were sitting in the station canteen. Gill's colleagues had finally convinced her to take a break and get something to eat, and Julie had sweet-talked one of the chefs into whipping up some tomato and basil soup, Gill's favourite. She wasn't eating it.

"The truth."

"I'm doing shit."

Julie nodded. Gill picked up a chunk of thickly cut white bread, rolling a bit of the dough into a ball and dropping it into the soup so that it floated like a swan might on a pond.

The television in the corner was broadcasting a shaky version of the news. The headline flickered below the picture, as though mocking them.

ENQUIRY INTO MANCHESTER MET'S MURDERED OFFICER ONGOING. POLICE DENY HAVING NO LEADS.

"What good will denying it do?"

"It doesn't normally go down with the press very well when you admit you don't know something. To be honest, nothing normally goes down well with the press," Julie smiled weakly, "This isn't your fault, Gill. It absolutely is not."

OFFICER HAS BEEN NAMED AS CHRISTOPHER LATHAM. COLLEAGUES PAID THEIR RESPECTS YESTERDAY.

"It's true; we have no leads. We have nothing," Gill threw her spoon down in the soup, and a little tidal wave of scarlet washed over the side of the bowl and splattered across her hand, "Of course I'm going to blame myself. I was supposed to be his girlfriend – oh, all this toyboy stuff, it was so funny at the time, wasn't it?"

"You shouldn't be on this case."

"What do you want me to do? Go home and sit in front of the TV with some hot chocolate, thinking about how little I knew about him?"

"Gill," Julie reached a hand across the table tentatively, and linked her fingers with her best friend's.

Gill's hands were cold. She had little lines beside her eyes, as though she'd like nothing more than to close them, and never see the world again. Perhaps she wanted to go and lie down beside Chris's grave, and die. Julie couldn't really understand how that felt.

"Hello, DCI Lumb," Julie said, privately glad he was interrupting the frightened silence that had grown up between her and Gill like a wall.

"DCI Dodson, Ma'am."

She smiled and pulled out the chair beside her with her spare hand. He sank down nervously, like a child who feared rabbits might shrink away from a cage of the little furry creatures.

"It's okay, Kev," Gill said gently, pushing the soup away, "I'm not going to eat you. I'm not really hungry at the moment."

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, his earnest eyes flickering between them, "Like, coffee, or donuts? I don't mind."

She shook her head, talking to Julie: "Kevin lit a candle for– for Chris, at– at the funeral. He's been really kind. Really helped me."

"That's good," Julie said. Wow, he'd come on a long way since she'd left his syndicate. She'd tease him about it later, when things were a little more normal. It felt wrong to think about laughter when Chris was dead.

Kevin leant back in his chair and buried a hand into his pocket. Both DCIs watched him with the sort of expression he'd grown used to over the years: what the hell are you doing, you idiot? Some things never changed.

"Ma'am, can I give you something?"

"Depends what it is," Gill said.

"Yeah, but– just don't get upset, okay? Or Janet will tell me off. And then Rachel might get a little bit pissed off too, and I'm really trying to avoid that, because she–"

"Not interested in your woeful love life, darling."

Kevin rolled his eyes at Julie and lifted his hand to Gill's, dropping something from between his thumb and finger into the palm of her hand.

It was a delicate bracelet, each little silver link curved into another, with two charms hanging down on opposite sides. One was a pair of handcuffs, crafted beautifully despite how tiny it was, and the other was a heart.

"We were–" he paused, worried she was going to start crying again but unsure how to distract her, "We wanted to give it to you for your birthday, but then we thought it might be better for this week. Just so you know we're all thinking of you, and all that. You know?"

The bracelet dropped suddenly from Gill's hand, making a soft ping as it hit the table.

Thank God she'd moved the soup, Julie thought, reaching out and scooping it up deftly. Poor Kevin; he really did care about her, and yet the things he did to show that always seemed to have the wrong result.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he said, "I thought–"

"It's okay," she said, raising her head so that he could see her eyes were dry. I keep my promises. "Put it on my wrist, will you?"

She shook her hand slightly once Julie had locked the clasps together, and the charms danced against her thin wrist.

"Thank you, Kevin. It's beautiful."

"It's alright, Ma'am."

"Can I– if this isn't a bit absurd, can I have a hug?"

Kevin smiled and stood up, and Gill fell in against his chest and let him rock her gently backwards and forwards.

"I loved him," she said.

"I know. And he loved you too, Ma'am. And all this stuff about his family; I'm sure there's a reason why he didn't tell you. We will get whoever did it."

"Yeah. We will."

Julie had been a police officer for longer than she cared to remember, and nothing had been as strange as this scene, as two people who normally pretended to hate one another clung on for dear life. On the other hand, nothing had ever been as touching as this scene either.

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