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Chapter Text

part i

You are cordially invited to the wedding of DI Eileen Montgomery and Dr James Edwards.

Predictably, Kate is late. It's only partially her fault; if the taxi had come straight away when she remembered that she had forgotten to pre-book one, she would absolutely have made it before they started playing the music. However, there's football on today, which the driver seems to have forgotten and he takes the most ridiculous route out of the city, and so she's stuck slipping into the back row, trying to ignore the dirty looks she's getting and to make as little noise as possible with her clacking heels. Her seat, while far back, isn't a bad one; the woman in front of her is relatively short and has thankfully forgone a hat in favour of an elaborate up-do, and so Kate can see and hear reasonably well.

She mostly manages to keep it together during the ceremony, although when James starts crying during the vows she doubts there's a dry eye in the house. It's beautiful, to see how in love they still are after all this time, their two daughters who are the flower girls jubilantly chucking petals at each other in front of the altar. She tries very hard not to remember what it was like to stand there herself, to feel so sure that this was going to be forever, and even worse that later she will be going home to her new flat alone.

Maybe you'll pull! Steve had tried to cheer her up. She'd asked him if he fancied coming, once it became clear that Mark wouldn't, that it was finally, entirely over between them, but he's at a gig this weekend and she knows better than to come between him and music.

She really hopes there aren't any sleazy, recently divorced men that Eileen has felt the need to place at her table, because it's one thing to be going through a divorce; it's another thing to be humiliatingly set up at a wedding.

As she walks into the reception, she reaches the the table plan at the same time as the lady with the nice hair, and Kate's a little taken aback at how completely stunning she is, in a beautifully fitted boat neck navy dress with delicate white flowers up one side. Kate awkwardly looks down at herself, at the bought-in-the-sale dress she's worn to at least two other weddings in the last three years, and the shoes that don't really go, and self consciously runs her hands through her hair.

"God, it's hard to see, isn't it?" the woman says in a soft Scottish accent, leaning closer to the plan. "Should've brought my glasses."

Kate smiles back. "Doesn't help that it's an absolutely massive wedding. Twelve tables? I think I had about three at my wedding."

The woman laughs. "What's your name? I'll keep a look out."

"Kate. Kate Fleming." She's about to ask the woman her name, when she lets out a triumphant noise.

"Aha! Kate Fleming." She points at table seven, at the edge of the plan. Then she tilts her head. "Oh dear."

"What?" For a stupid, irrational minute, Kate imagines that Eileen has forgotten to take Mark off the plan and she's going to be stuck with a humiliating space beside her that screams "I've just been dumped!" to everyone around her. But then she remembers that this lady doesn't know her, or her pathetic life, and maybe she just needs to calm the fuck down.

"I'm afraid you're going to be stuck with me." The woman points to the name next to Kate's. Joanne Davidson.

Kate smiles at her. "Nice to meet you, Joanne."

"It's Jo." They shake hands, and Kate subtly looks around, but Jo seems to be on her own as well. Perfect. Suddenly, the idea of coming alone isn't as terrible anymore. She's met someone she seems to be able to speak to fairly easily, she's not the only one without a date, and Eileen has managed to resist the urge to set her up like she was threatening to do. Things are looking up.

***
Jo, it turns out, is very funny, and Kate finds herself speaking to her for most of the night. James' second cousin is on her other side, and he keeps telling her extremely boring stories about his job as a tax adviser, but when Jo returns from the bathroom between courses and catches the end of one of these thrilling tales, she rolls her eyes at Kate and draws her into conversation which they keep up all the way through the main course and dessert.

Unexpectedly, Kate is having a fabulous time. She finds herself opening up about her impending divorce, but weirdly she doesn't feel the normal gloom coming over her. Jo is wry and dry and Kate hasn't laughed like this in a really long time.

Jo mentions she's in the police as well but neither of them linger on that topic; there's nothing worse than a bunch of coppers getting together and just talking about work the whole time, plus Kate doesn't want to ruin the night by revealing that she's anti-corruption. But it's easy to make conversation anyway, the wine and the food and Jo's pretty, low laugh make the evening fly.

After dessert, the central tables are pushed to the side to make room for the dance floor, but Kate's not nearly drunk enough for that yet. To her pleasant surprise, Jo shows absolutely no inclination to strut her stuff either, and instead seems content to stay at the table with Kate, sipping the bottle of white they liberated from one of the other tables where everyone seems to be on spirits instead.

"I'd forgotten what she's like after a few drinks," Kate grins, pointing to Eileen who is dragging her poor husband around the dance floor. "She was always a menace on a night out."

Jo laughs. "Probably a good thing I resisted most of the team nights out back then, they sound dangerous."

Kate looks over at her curiously. Jo's not really disclosed much about her personal life, but she did say that her and Eileen were posted together when Eileen was fresh out of the academy and Jo was a newly minted DC. She finds herself burning with curiosity about this funny, smart, beautiful woman, who is so charming and at the same time so closed off. Why is she here alone? She's heard all about Kate's disaster of a life but she hasn't mentioned a boyfriend or a husband, or an ex, and suddenly Kate's struck with the awkward thought that she might be cramping Jo's style.

She's just about to say something like I won't be offended if you want to go dance, to stop herself from saying something more stupid like so how come you're here all by yourself?, when Eileen staggers over to them, beaming. "I'm so glad you two are getting on. I just knew it." She sways a little and Kate jumps up quickly and steadies her, laughing. "I told James I should set you up with Jo and not one of his mates."

"Thank god for that!" She distinctly remembers the last time her and Mark split, before their reconciliation, when Eileen was setting her up with a what felt like never ending series of the worst of James' friends from medical school.

Eileen nods her head so enthusiastically that one of the petals from the flowers in her hair falls into Kate's mostly-empty wine glass. "I did the table plan and POW!" She makes a big gesture with her hand and Kate grins as Jo has to jump up and to the side off her chair to avoid the champagne flying out of Eileen's glass. "I knew you two were meant to be."

"Wow," she mouths at Jo, who smiles back, but it doesn't seem to reach her eyes.

"Excuse me," she says softly, putting her glass down and heading to the door of the ballroom. Kate watches her go, slightly concerned at the change in her new friend, but then Eileen sways and she's distracted again.

"You might want to slow down, mate," she tells the bride, holding her up in a half hug.

Eileen kisses her cheek. "I am so happy you are here, Fleming. And that you've hit it off with Jo. You two would make such a cute couple."

Kate freezes as it dawns on her what Eileen was actually doing. She's told Eileen for years that that one night out when they were going through Ryton was a fluke, that she's straight, and she thought Eileen got that. And now she's bloody made Jo feel so uncomfortable she's fled.

Possibly seeing Kate's stricken expression, James comes up to them, a fresh glass of champagne in his hand for Eileen, and Kate gratefully hands her off and hurries outside. Jo still hasn't come back.

She checks the ladies room but Jo's nowhere to be seen, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she heads back into the reception area, wondering what to do now. And then she catches sight of a petite frame, lit up by the moonlight, standing out on the patio.

She's suddenly, inexplicably nervous. Still, she's not one for letting things fester. Better to clear the air straight away. "Hey," she announces herself, picking her way across the gravel to the grass where Jo is standing, looking over the grounds of the estate. She's glad Jo only half turns her head, because Kate is not used to heels and she doesn't exactly look very elegant right now. "You ok?"

Jo turns to her then with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Sure. Just wanted some air."

Kate nods. She wishes she had pockets to slip her hands into, and instead crosses her arms and looks down at the carefully manicured lawn under her strappy sandals. "Look, I'm sorry if Eileen made you uncomfortable in there. I'm not... I mean...." She doesn't really know how to put it and awkwardly trails off.

Jo stares at her and Kate realises that she probably has no idea what she's on about. She tries again, tries to make her tone light and joking. "I mean, you know what it's like in the force. People make assumptions about female officers all the time, especially if you're single." She goes for a grin but is sure it's probably more of a grimace. "All it takes is a short haircut."

Jo goes very still and then takes the smallest step back, and although her face hardly moves, Kate sees something flash across it that makes her stomach bottom out. Oh shit.

"It's fine, Kate," she says in the flattest tone Kate has heard from her all day.

"Shit, I'm sorry." If the suspicion that has just occurred to her is right, Kate has just really put her foot in it. "I didn't mean it like-"

"It's fine." Jo lets out a little huff of a laugh that sounds anything but fine. "But if it makes you feel any better, it wasn't you she was making assumptions about."

Kate is mortified. She blames too many years working with Steve and all the stupid banter that goes along with that. She feels awful. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"Seriously, Kate, it's fine." Jo gives her a weak smile. "Let's just go back in."

Without really thinking about it, Kate reaches out and softly touches Jo's arm, stopping her. "No, please, I'm sorry." She swallows hard; she's never really spoken about this before with anyone, certainly not relatively sober, but she owes it to Jo. "I only said that because I was worried it had made you uncomfortable." Jo doesn't look at her, but she hasn't walked away either so Kate continues. "Truth is, one time, during a night out at Ryton, we went to this gay bar because we didn't want to get hit on and I ended up getting with someone. Another woman." Jo turns to look at her then, her eyes wide with surprise. "It never happened again and I told everyone it was a fluke, that I was really drunk. But Eileen never believed me, and I think she thought maybe we would hit it off."

This time, Jo's smile reaches her eyes, and Kate sags in relief. "Thank you for telling me. Sorry for being stroppy."

"You weren't-"

"I'm not really out, at work." Jo looks down, embarrassed, and Kate strokes the hand that's still resting on her arm up and down the soft, warm skin of her arm. "It's hard enough being a woman, but being a lesbian as well..."

"I think you're really brave, telling me." Jo scoffs but Kate steps right in front of her, forcing eye contact. "Thank you."

For a moment, Jo's bottom lip wobbles and Kate is worried she's going to cry, but then Jo takes a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and smiles again. "Do you want to go back in? Maybe dance a bit?"

Kate winces. "I'm not really that good at dancing, especially in heels."

"No excuses, Fleming." It's like a cloud has lifted from Jo; she tugs Kate by the hand back towards the house, and Kate grins and lets her. "Just take your shoes off if you have to."

***

Is it Jo dragging her onto the dancefloor as the macarena starts that does it? The tequila shots Kate gets them from the bar afterwards? The way Jo in her heels is almost as tall as Kate in her bare feet and insists that she should therefore lead during a slow dance in which she tries and fails to teach Kate how to waltz, and they collapse laughing into two chairs at the side?

All Kate knows is that the evening is starting to take on that fuzzy, golden blur when time stops existing and you can't remember specific conversations but you definitely know you're having a great time, and so when the lights switch on and everyone starts gathering up their things, she's pretty gutted. It's the most fun she's had in months and months.

"Share a taxi?" she asks Jo, wincing as she sees the queue at the reception desk.

Jo hesitates. "I actually have a room here."

And Kate shouldn't feel so disappointed, but she's is. Of course Jo has a room here; she's sensible and plans ahead. And if she's from out of town that makes total sense. "No worries."

"Kate." Jo hesitates and then takes her hand. "There's no point in you hanging around here waiting for a taxi for an hour. Want to come up and wait in my room? They gave all the wedding guests complementary fizz?"

Kate thinks she probably shouldn't have any more, because her heart seems to be thumping pretty hard and the world is soft and a little fuzzy round the edges, but she can't think of a single thing that she would like more than continuing the evening, and so she nods and they fall into the lift, laughing at the way Kate trips on the open straps of her heels, laughing all the way to Jo's room.

The minute they enter, Kate slips back out of her shoes, sighing as she feels the soft, expensive carpet on her feet. "Shoes that uncomfortable should be illegal."

Jo laughs, stepping neatly out of her own and heading over to the table where the complimentary bottle and two glasses stand. "But they look so good!"

Kate doesn't know what gives her the confidence to say it; probably the vast quantities of alcohol they have consumed in the last hour. "That your type, then? Women in heels?"

Jo lets out a laugh, but it's a cute little hiccup, not like the cold brittle laugh from earlier, outside, when Kate had been an ass. "Not really."

Kate drops onto the small sofa, taking the flute of prosecco from Jo's hand. "I wonder if my love life would be less fucked up if I was into women."

"That is such a straight woman thing to say!" Jo's own voice has lost some of it's definition, the alcohol softening her syllables and blending them together. "Two women is twice the drama."

"Hmm." Kate thinks back to Mark and his pettiness. He's the single most passive aggressive person she's ever met. "I don't know, in my experience, men are a lot of drama too."

Jo sits down next to her, her legs crossed, pulling up her tight dress and exposing some ridiculously toned thighs. "Maybe you should give it a go, then. I mean, you did say you got kissed a woman once?"

Jo's tone is light, but there's something in it, or maybe it's something in Kate, that suddenly makes her palms sweaty. Because suddenly all she can think is why the hell not? And what a ridiculous thing to think, just because Jo is gay doesn't mean she automatically has to fancy Kate, except... except she invited Kate up to her room, and spent all night with her, and when Kate looks up at her Jo is smiling; a small, soft, tentatively hopeful smile that Kate suddenly has the almost irresistible urge to kiss.

Alcohol has always made her brave. Or stupid. Maybe both.

She places her flute down on the small table and turns to face Jo, reaching out and placing her hand very slowly, very gently, on Jo's knee. "Maybe I should."

"We don't know each other," Jo says, and it sounds like she means it as a positive, rather than anything they should be concerned about. "It doesn't have to be.... We're just two women who-"

"-who like each other," Kate finishes her sentence, sliding closer like drawn in by a magnet. Jo's eyes are on her mouth, and fuck, this is actually happening. "We're both single, just letting off some steam..."

"Exactly." Jo's voice is barely a whisper. It dances across Kate's mouth, and then they both lean in and kiss and it's soft and warm and any hesitation Kate may have felt is out of the window. They kiss slowly, and Kate gets the distinct impression that Jo is trying to be considerate, but she wants more, wants it now, and tugs at Jo to slide over into her lap. Jo gasps in surprise, opening her mouth, and suddenly their tongues are sliding together and it's no longer soft; it's firm and demanding and Kate is so ready for this.

Almost without permission her hands start sliding up Jo's thighs, pushing up her dress, and Jo is gasping and kissing her neck and Jesus Christ, she's wearing suspenders.

Jo gets to her feet, lipstick smeared a little, holding out her hand. "Take it off me?" she asks, gesturing to the zip at the back of her dress, and Kate eagerly helps her, feels her mouth go dry at the sight of the black bra and pants and the suspender belt above them. "Still ok?"

In response, Kate reaches round her own dress and undoes the zip in one smooth motion, letting it fall to the floor. Jo's eyes go wide and dark, and then they come together again, a jumble of hands and mouths and sighs as they stumble to the bed. They land in a heap, laughing into their kiss, plucking at their underwear and at the pins holding up Jo's bun.

It's fun. Kate forgot, for a while, that sex could be fun. That it could be something more than a desperate attempt to cling to intimacy, to feel something, some closeness with another person. That it can be about more than scratching an itch.

Because yeah, she's worked up - Jo is an excellent kisser and Kate hasn't had sex in a couple of months now - but she's also genuinely just enjoying it, the freedom of doing this with someone who she trusts but doesn't know, who she likes but will never see again.

It's somehow not as awkward as it can sometimes be, to roll between the sheets with a stranger. "Ok?" Jo asks her, before she slips her fingers inside and swirls Kate's clit with her thumb. "Alright?" she asks Jo in return when she slips her own hand down into Jo's wetness, and Jo bites her shoulder gently as she sighs. It's easy, somehow, to learn about what she likes when Jo is so vocal, so happy to nudge her hand slightly over or gasp harder, faster while she claws at Kate's back.

Sometime after the second time Jo makes Kate's toes curl, they take a break. Jo offers her a makeup wipe out of her neatly packed cosmetic bag and they stand next to each other in the unflattering hotel bathroom light, wiping the remains of mascara and each other's lipstick off their faces, making slightly sheepish eye contact in the mirror. At Kate's suggestion, they then share the squashed piece of wedding cake wrapped from her handbag, laying it on a napkin between them as they perch on the bed.

"So, as first experiences go," Jo asks, breaking off a piece of cake from the icing to eat it first, "how would you say this is going?" She's smirking as she says it, probably because the scratches down her back give a pretty clear indication of how much Kate has been enjoying herself.

"Yeah, it's alright," Kate says, faux casually, grinning widely at the mock outraged look on Jo's face, and snagging another piece of cake from between them on the bed.

There's a comfortable silence for a minute, as Kate revels in how good she feels and wonders if Jo might be up for another round.

"I don't do this a lot," Jo suddenly says, and her tone isn't jokey anymore. "I'm not good with relationships and, well, I don't have to explain to you how hard it is to meet people in our job..." She looks away, clearly embarrassed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Kate reaches across the bed and covers Jo's hand with her own. "Sometimes it's easier to tell a stranger? I mean," she huffs out a breath, heart suddenly thudding, "I've never told anyone that I might...that I sometimes like women too, and yet here we are."

Jo squeezes Kate's hand back. "I don't mean to tell you what to do, but personally I think it would be a waste if you never did that again. You're pretty good at that."

Embarrassed and pleased, Kate leans over and kisses her. They both taste like icing and jam and it's ridiculous and somehow just right. "You should too, you know. Give someone a chance."

"I'm a hard woman to love." Jo says it lightly, gathering up the napkin, but it makes Kate's heart ache.

"You're smart and funny and you can waltz! You're a catch!"

"You don't even know me." Still, Jo looks a little happier. Pleased, Kate stretches, and the blanket she's wrapped around herself slips, and suddenly Jo's eyes darken, and Kate raises her eyebrow and they're kissing again, oblivious to the cake crumbs and the way the sheets are starting to curl away from the mattress.

Kate's not usually the type for half-drunk, fucking-all-through-the-night-until-they-pass-out one night stands, but after everything she's been through, she decides that she has earned this. A night of uncomplicated, no consequences fun.

After all, it’s not like they’re going to see each other again.

Chapter Text

part ii

Together with their families, Christopher Lomax and Olive Gregory invite you to their wedding.

"There's no obligation or anything," Chris tells her as he hands her the envelope. "I know you've only just joined the team and stuff, and that not being able to bring your partner might be weird, but I just wanted to ask."

Kate is touched, actually. She's pretty sure most of the team are starting to get over that she's ex-AC-12, but Chris is difficult to read; he banters with everyone but it's hard when she's used to working with Steve, who she's known for close to a decade, to build up a new relationship from scratch. "No, seriously Chris, I'd be happy to come. And don't worry, I'm actually recently divorced so I'd be a sad single anyway."

He seems genuinely pleased at her acceptance. "That's great!" He leans closer, an air of conspiracy about them. "Between you and me, Olive's mother keeps giving me these really pitying looks because I've got about half the amount of people coming they do, they think I have no mates."

Kate laughs. She knows the feeling - after a few years of being in the force it started to feel like her only friends were actually Mark's friends, other than the ones on her team. "Well, you might have fewer but you know what cops are like with a free bar, we'll probably be the nosiest of the bunch."

Chris grimaces. "God, don't remind me."

"Briefing in five minutes, please," a voice calls next to Kate, and she jumps a little. She's normally very good at knowing where Jo is, at sensing her presence, which makes her sudden appearance beside her all the more startling. She looks up at her boss, trying to catch her eye, but as usual, Jo's glance moves right over her. And then they freeze on the open envelope with the invitation sticking out of it on her desk. Something in her cheek twitches for a second and then she's gone.

Kate leans back in her chair and sighs. She really, really has to do something about this.

***
That first morning on the Hill, after she'd spent ten minutes in her car giving herself a pep talk that leaving AC-12 was the right choice and MIT was going to be a good career move, things had gone downhill very quickly. She'd known, the minute she stepped in and realised that the DSU was Buckells, that she had perhaps made a mistake.

He'd glared at her, and then made thinly veiled comments about her being undercover, which she'd tried to deflect with good grace, but Jesus. And then, of course, he'd walked her into the bull pen, telling her he was going to introduce her to the new SIO in charge of MIT, and he'd barged into the office and Kate had been so surprised she froze in the doorway, and only remembered herself when a shocked looking Jo got to her feet and held out her hand and introduced herself as DCI Davidson.

What were the bloody chances?

The first day was both long and awkward. Buckells announced to everyone that she was ex AC-12, which immediately created an air of hostility, and to make matters worse, Jo absolutely refused to so much as look in her direction. During the team briefing in the morning, she stared over the top of Kate's head while bringing her up to speed, and studiously avoided her eyes even when she slipped into her seat across from Kate at the table.

Kate had hung back at the end of the day, trying to catch Jo before she left. But when she stepped into Jo's office, a shutter came down over her new boss's face. "Sorry, Kate," she told her, grabbing her coat. "I'm in a hurry. Can this wait?"

It couldn't really, but what was Kate going to say to that? She went home, resolved to come in early to try and clear the air.

But as if anticipating her move, Jo didn't come in until bang on her start time the next day, and spent her whole day in a rush of calls and meetings and was somehow never alone when Kate was free to speak to her.

The next day was the same story.

It was incredibly frustrating. Kate had spent so long gearing herself up to leaving AC-12, had agonised over the decision and only really decided to make the move because this role in MIT came up, and now this.

It's especially gutting because she's pretty sure that her and Jo would work together really well. It's clear in group meetings that they're often on the same wavelength. At least half a dozen times now, it's happened that they've both started saying the same thing, and in that brief moment when they make eye contract and Jo's eyebrows quirk a little, Kate is sure that this can work.

But then the meeting is over and Jo will be off out of her chair like a shot, and Kate is left wondering whether she imagined it all.

She needs to find a way to break the ice, to fix this. She just has no idea where to start.

***
Chris's wedding is only a couple of months after she starts and she's really grateful now that he's asked her. Most of the team are starting to warm to her, probably because she's been putting in a lot of effort, buying biscuits for their team meetings and rounds at the pub, but she knows that trust and rapport needs to be earned and this kind of informal setting is best for that.

Plus, if she's completely honest, she hopes that she might have a chance to speak to Jo outside the office. Since she's been in the team, Jo hasn't come to any of the nights out the team has been on, and Kate is starting to lose patience. She feels like she uses up a good third of energy during the day keeping track of Jo; following her with her eyes or listening for the soft clicks of her boots on the linoleum.

They have got to figure this out.

In the interests of making a good impression, and given that at least one person at this wedding will have already seen her normal go-to dress, she decides it's probably time for something new. Still, she doesn't plan to spend almost two hundred quid on a dress. She's never dropped that kind of money on a piece of clothing before, but the shop assistant had gushed about how good it looked on her and how it brought out her cheekbones, and Kate, who has since Eileen's wedding been unable to stop noticing attractive women, had blushed, and somehow she found herself handing over her credit card and receiving back the receipt, with the assistant's phone number scrawled on the side.

She hasn't called her yet, though. She doesn't really know what's stopping her, or what has held her back from responding to one of the women who messaged her on the dating app she signed up for a few weeks ago, impulsively clicking that she was interested in both men and women.

Maybe it's because she's so focused on trying to do well in her new job, and living up to her new Deputy SIO title. She's putting in a lot of hours trying to get up to date on all of the investigations the team is involved in, trying to prove herself to her new colleagues and especially her new boss. She hopes that maybe if she does a good job, if she proves her worth, the wall of awkwardness between her and Jo might crack.

Or maybe it's that somehow, her realisation about women is inexplicably linked to Jo in her mind, and the fact that the two of them are hardly speaking weighs on her heavily. It’s like a mental block she can’t get past, like an obstacle she needs to tackle before she can take that next step.

Shame Jo doesn’t seem to feel the same way. Sometimes, Kate catches her glancing in her direction, an inscrutable expression on her face, but when Kate looks up Jo turns away, and it’s over so quickly Kate’s not even sure it happened at all.

***
On the day of the wedding, Kate arrives at the venue on time for once, sitting with Craig from forensics, who also supports Nottingham Forest and therefore commiserates about their abysmal performance the night before, and sticks with him and his wife as the coaches transport them from the church to the hotel where the reception will take place.

She tries very, very hard not to openly stare at Jo during the ceremony and instead focus on what's happening in front of her, but it's hard. Jo's dark green today, and the colour looks so good on her that Kate is suddenly transported back to a long night of touches and sighs and legs twisting together.

And that right there is the whole fucking problem. This is the reason Jo doesn't want to make eye contact with her. She's probably worried Kate is desperate for a repeat performance. And while Kate does recall that night fondly, and probably more often than she really should now she sees Jo on a daily basis, she knows it was a one off. Now all she needs to do is to let Jo know that she has nothing to worry about.

***
She ends up two seats up from Jo during the food, between Craig's wife and the new probationer. She's been there just long enough to understand some of the inside jokes and banter, and she tries to join in when she can.

It’s a fun group, easy to talk to, and the food is pretty good as well. Kate had set herself a goal to eat better now she’s out of AC-12, but most nights she still grabs a ready meal over trying to cook something proper.

Jo’s relatively quiet. Kate gets the impression that she isn’t big on socialising with the team, and while she’s a good boss, she draws professional boundaries clearly. Maybe that’s why what happened between them is making it so hard.

And then, during the break between mains and desserts, Erin the probationer pops to the loo, and suddenly the closest person to Kate is Jo.

Jo seems to realise too, because she looks about hastily and then seems to realise that if she gets up now it's a little too rude to be casual.

Kate gives her a small smile but doesn't try to initiate conversation; she doesn't want Jo to bolt again. This seems to be the right approach, because Jo lets out a little sigh, and then slips into the seat beside her. "Wonder what's for dessert?" she says, tone deliberately light.

The relief that floods Kate is enormous. Maybe, maybe, this is the thaw she's been waiting for. "I think Chris mentioned something about frangipane."

Jo's eyes light up, and Kate can't help but laugh. "That's right, you're a marzipan fiend, aren't you?" And then regret washes over her, because the reason she knows that is from that-night-she-isn't-thinking-about, and what if this is her one chance to get Jo to speak to her like they're normal colleagues, what if-

"Don't go spreading all my secrets around now, Kate," Jo grins tentatively.

Kate hesitates and then looks Jo straight in the eye. "Of course not, boss." The double meaning clearly isn't lost on Jo; her eyes widen slightly and then her cheeks go a little pink, but she gives Kate a small smile that she recognises from all those months ago, that genuine, I'm-pleased Jo smile that she hardly ever has at work.

"Out of the office, forget boss."

Kate nods, some of the heaviness in her chest loosening a little. She reaches out to grab the wine bottle. "Top up?"

"Oh god, please." The ice has broken between them, somehow, and Jo stays in the seat next to her even when their table companions come back, switching with Erin. "Have you ever spoken to Chris's friend Dave from vice, the best man? Trust me when I say you'll need a full glass for his speech."

Laughing, Kate fills Jo's glass all the way to the top.

***
Jo's warning turns out to be an understatement if anything; the best man speech is the single most innuendo-laden, inappropriate thing Kate has ever heard at a wedding. Poor Chris goes redder and redder, glancing at his new mother-in-law who sits with a pinched expression at the other side of his bride who has buried her head in her hands.

At first, her and Jo exchange glances every time he says something particularly offensive, but by the end, Kate can't even watch anymore. She does enjoy Jo's under-her-breath commentary, ending with whispering "What a wanker!" to Kate as they finally get to the toast at the end.

This is the Jo that Kate remembers from the summer, dry and hilarious. Less uptight than at work. Not that Kate blames her for having a work personality; she knows first hand how hard it can be to get respect as a female officer, especially one who is in a leadership position, and if that stoical, no-nonsense mask is what Jo needs to get the respect she deserves, good for her. Still, seeing the small crack in it now makes something warm spread through Kate's stomach.

Speeches finally over, they start migrating through to the ballroom for the dancing. Kate loses Jo in the crowd but does end up next to Chris, who looks slightly sheepish. "Don't think Olive was overly impressed with Dave's speech," he winces, draining his glass of fizz. "Think I might be in trouble."

"It wasn't that bad," Kate lies, patting his arm. "Your one made up for it."

He looks at her gratefully. "Thanks Kate." Then his face falls. "Oh dear."

Kate turns around to see what he's looking at. It's Jo, standing at the door to the hall they had eaten in, talking to another woman that looks vaguely familiar to Kate.

"I knew inviting Farida was a bad idea."

That's it. Farida Jatri. Kate remembers her from the Roz Huntley investigation. "What's the problem?"

Chris hesitates. "Just...Farida recently left our team and it wasn't on the best of terms, I hear."

Something about the awkward way he says it makes Kate pause, and a suspicion rises in her. She watches as the conversation looks to get a little heated, and then Jo glances around and gestures to the door to the outside, and Farida stomps past her. Jo sighs, looking defeated, and follows her.

"I should go check on them," Chris says, sounding very reluctant.

"Hey," Kate shakes her head. "No, it's your wedding. Go have your first dance! I'll deal with this."

He hesitates. "You sure?"

"Trust me." She tries to look reassuring. "I'll make sure they're ok."

"Cheers, Kate." He gives her a pat on the arm and hurries away, and Kate heads to the door, stopping at the cloakroom to grab her coat and the long, black one she saw Jo arrive in earlier.

Initially, she's worried that she might not be able to find them; the hotel has a golf course attached to it which spans a huge area and it's almost pitch black, but then she hears a raised voice round the corner.

"...always lying to me!"

Kate steps closer.

"How often do I have to tell you that I never cheated on you?" Jo sounds exasperated. "We have had this conversation over and over, Farida."

Kate hesitates. This isn't really the kind of thing your boss normally wants you to witness, but it sounds like maybe someone needs to step in and defuse things.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I've moved on. To someone who actually knows how to be in a relationship. Who doesn't constantly lie to my face."

Alright. Kate's decided that that's enough. It's a wedding, after all. Not the time or place. She heads around the corner, making as much noise as possible. "Jo?" she calls, as if she doesn't know exactly where she is. "They're about to cut the cake!" She stops in fake surprise as she comes upon them. Jo's got her arms crossed, looking so defeated it's like a punch to Kate's chest. Farida looks close to tears. "Oh, sorry," she says, not sounding sorry at all. "Am I interrupting?"

Farida looks at her, and at Jo's coat she's carrying, and then turns and leaves without a word. Jo turns away, wiping at her cheek, and Kate pretends to be looking at something on her shoe until Jo has composed herself.

"You ok?"

Jo turns and nods. Her work mask is back over her face. "Fine, thanks".

Kate holds out her coat. "Brought you this, if you want to stay out here for a bit?"

Jo gives her a small smile, taking the coat and slipping it on. Their fingers graze; Jo's are freezing. "Thanks, Kate. That's very considerate." She turns and walks the six or seven steps to the bench by the wall, sagging onto it. She doesn't show any inclination of going back in, but she also hasn't asked Kate to leave, so Kate takes the chance to sit down beside her.

The sounds of the party inside filter through the door round the corner, muffled and distorted like they're hearing it through a really bad radio. The golf course in front of them is empty and still. There's something kind of spooky about the manicured lawn, the neatness of everything in the darkness.

Kate chances a sideways glance. Jo’s eyes no longer glisten but her face is a little pale. The distorted light from the small window behind them lights her up, making her softly curled hair glow. Even when she’s sad, she’s immaculate, Kate thinks.

"Are you sure you're ok?" she decides to push a little. "Chris mentioned that Farida hadn't left on the best of terms."

Jo lets out a wet little sigh. “I didn’t realise anyone…”

“I don’t know that he does,” Kate says quickly. “He maybe suspects, but I’ve certainly not heard any chat about it.” She remembers Jo’s words very clearly, that she’s not out at work.

“That’s the last thing I need,” Jo sighs, her head falling backwards. "Everyone getting off on that little scenario."

"I honestly don’t think anyone knows. I think he's just worried about you." Kate tries to sound reassuring. She’s new to this, of course, but no one on their team has struck her as particularly bigoted. Certainly not Chris. "And even if they did, no one will think less of you-"

"I was her boss." Jo's voice is harsh. "And it was a total shit show from start to finish." She pauses but Kate waits, giving her a chance to decide if she wants to share more. "We didn’t date very long but she was always jealous," Jo continues after a moment, voice quiet and soft now. "Every time I came home a little bit late. Every time I was anywhere without her. She shredded my clothes. She followed me around. I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Jesus, Jo!" Kate turns to her, alarmed. This sounds more like a stalker than a girlfriend.

"It's ok. It's fine. It's sorted, it's over." She's quiet for another moment. "This is all your fault, you know."

"What?" Confused, Kate turns her whole upper body round on the bench. "What did I do?"

Jo leans her head back, and Kate can see that she is smiling sardonically. "You should try dating! You're a catch!" she says in a terrible impression of Kate's accent.

It's the first time Jo has said anything since Kate started in MIT to acknowledge what happened between them all those months ago, and for a moment Kate is so shocked she doesn't say anything. But then she sees Jo's face clouding over and she nudges Jo in what she hopes is a playful manner with her shoulder. "I stand by that. I don't remember guaranteeing that the first person you tried with was going to be the one, though. God knows we all have to kiss a few frogs first."

Jo sighs. "Sometimes the frogs are really good kissers. It's just everything else that's wrong."

An evening of firsts, then. Kate hasn't heard Jo say anything more personal than mentioning she has a Tesco delivery coming since she started. Maybe now is the moment she's been waiting for.

"I've been meaning to have a word, Jo," she says softly, trying to keep any hint of accusation or hostility out of her voice. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been quite distant with me since I started-"

"I'm your senior officer," Jo says, in a tone that's clearly supposed to shut down this discussion, but there's no real bite in it. "I'm supposed to be distant."

"I wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable." Kate's trying to keep her voice calm but she's been desperate to have this conversation for two months. "I really like working in MIT. I like working with you. And I know it's a bit awkward, but obviously neither of us could have anticipated this would happen and I don't want it to jeopardise our working relationship."

Jo opens her mouth as if to say something and Kate quickly cuts across it.

"I don't know if you've been worried that I might have got the wrong impression but I know it was a one time thing and that's fine. I just thought we got on well, when we met before. As friends, I mean. I think we could be friends, if we can put that other thing behind us."

For a second, Jo looks startled, and Kate is suddenly worried that she's made it worse. But then a small smile appears on Jo's face, lit up by the soft light from the window behind them. "I'm sorry, Kate. When you came into the Hill that day I was taken aback. I'd just ended things with Farida and Buckells said you were anti-corruption and I guess I just overreacted."

"I like to think I'm better at covert ops than just announcing I'm from anti-corruption," she jokes. "And I was ready to move on from catching bent coppers. I want to catch real criminals."

Jo nods. "You're right." She gives Kate a sideways smile. "We did get on well, didn't we?"

Kate nods. Jo tilts her head back, looking up at the sky, and Kate has a sudden, vivid flashback of leaning against the headboard of the hotel bed, Jo between her legs with her back pressed to Kate's chest, her neck exposed just like that while Kate worked her hand between her legs.

She looks away quickly, hoping Jo hasn't noticed. What the fuck is wrong with her? They're finally clearing the air and now she can't stop being horny?

"Let's start with a clean slate." Jo turns to her, smiling widely, and fuck, she's beautiful. Kate swallows hard. "I'm Jo Davidson." She holds out her hand.

"Kate Fleming," she chokes out, hoping Jo can't feel her thundering pulse as they shake hands. Jo’s skin as just as soft as Kate remembers.

"Fresh start," Jo nods to herself. Her curls bob and she tucks one behind her ear and Kate catches herself thinking she has really nice earlobes and fuck.

This is going to be a problem.

Chapter Text

part iii

Mark Alistair Fleming and Louise Jennifer Cameron request your presence at their wedding.

The only good thing about the invitation that's lying on Kate's doormat when she gets home on Thursday is that it distracts her from obsessing about Jo Davidson, and the very nicely tailored checked suit she was wearing today.

The fucking nerve of Mark. She's told him that she doesn't feel comfortable going to his wedding, but he keeps going on about how it's what Josh would want and how it shows that there's no hard feelings, how it reassures him that his parents are still on good terms. Personally, Kate has no idea why he even wants her there. True, they can now get through the bi- weekly handovers of Josh with relatively good grace and small talk, but if she was getting married the last person Kate would invite would be bloody Mark.

She has the very strong impulse to set the invitation on fire, but there's that much bloody glitter on it it would probably explode or something.

To resist her more destructive tendencies, she shoves it in her handbag and heads to the fridge, digging out a ready meal and the half-empty bottle of wine in the door.

Louise probably never cooks ready meals. Her and Mark probably stand in their kitchen side by side, julienning carrots and toasting each other for being the perfect fucking partner. She grabs a fork from the drying rack and pierces holes in the film of the chicken korma ("heats in three minutes") with too much gusto, so that half the plastic rips.

"What the fuck is wrong with me," she mumbles. Why is she so pathetic?

***

Her bad mood persists throughout the next day. By lunchtime she gets the distinct impression that everyone in the bullpen is avoiding her.

Good. Kate can't deal with inane chitchat today anyway.

It doesn't help, of course, that Jo and Chris are out at a scene, and so she can't even attempt to lift her mood by sneaking glances at Jo drinking her coffee and wrinkling her nose when she realises it's cold, or trying to guess what her outfit is going to be before she takes off her coat in the mornings.

She desperately needs to get a bloody life.

By the time lunch is over, during which Kate rage-googles holiday destinations for one over the weekend that Mark is getting married and then realises that she does not have several hundred pounds to spend on a revenge holiday, her dark mood has built up so much that the unfortunate tech from forensics who calls her at two thirty to tell her that unfortunately one of the samples has been corrupted by human error and they will have to resample and test the clothing again, which will take until Monday at the earliest, gets the full whack of her anger as she snaps.

She's still tearing into the tech, in fact, when Chris and Jo come in, looking startled. "Thanks for nothing," she ends the call, trying not to feel too guilty. She knows mistakes happen; god knows she's made a ton herself. But every tiny thing that goes wrong today seems overwhelming, somehow.

"DI Fleming," Jo says. "Can I see you in my office, please?"

Sighing, Kate gets to her feet. Perfect. And now Jo is going to give her a bollocking as well, deserved as it might be, and then as well as all this stupid rage in her she's going to be obsessing about how Jo thinks she's an idiot who can't control her temper.

She stalks into Jo's office, shutting the door behind her at Jo's gesture, and tries to ignore the little flutter of interest in her chest as she takes in Jo's outfit. The dark blue suit today. Burgundy polo neck underneath. Combined with the fact that the chill outside has made Jo's cheeks flushed and pink, she looks like a model from a womenswear catalogue. Despite herself, some of her mood is already dissipating just from being in the same space as Jo, and if that isn't pathetic, she doesn't know what is.

"Have a seat."

Surprised, Kate sits down. Normally when Jo gives someone a dressing down she makes them stand in front of her desk. She's never met anyone who can so effectively tell someone off while sitting down. Hastings always used to tower over you, using his size as an advantage. Jo doesn't need to do that. She's quiet and small but when she speaks, everyone snaps to attention.

Jo reaches down into one of the drawers next to her desk and pulls out a box. "Take a chocolate."

This was not what Kate was expecting. She stares at Jo, who impatiently gestures at the box of those expensive Belgian seashells that Kate sometimes used to get for her birthday from her ex-mother in law.

"Want to tell me what's wrong?" Jo asks, and although her tone is dry, Kate can hear an edge of worry. No wonder. Kate is usually pretty good at controlling herself, at keeping her cool.

"I'm sorry," Kate sighs, bending over and grabbing one of the chocolates. "I'm having a day."

Leaning forward on her elbows, Jo asks softly "Do you want to talk about it?"

Kate hesitates. "It's personal," she replies sheepishly. Jo can be funny about personal stuff at the office.

Jo leans back, and she looks almost hurt. "I don't mean to pry."

Crap. This has been happening a lot lately. Kate's been trying so hard to act normal around Jo, to hide away any hint of feelings that go beyond professional respect and friendship that she's been going too far in the other direction, putting so much distance between them that she's hurt Jo's feelings. "Are you free for a drink tonight?" falls out of her mouth before she has the good sense to shut it.

Double crap. It's not her turn to ask that. They've been going out for drinks and the occasional curry on average about once a week for months now, since Lomax's wedding, but there's this pattern to it, where they take turns asking, like one of them asking twice in a row would be overstepping. And now Kate's gone and screwed it up, because last Friday she took Jo for a wine and a pizza after Jo spent the entire afternoon in a management training seminar with HR and had come out with a throbbing headache, and it's not her turn.

Jo looks surprised, and for a second Kate's sure she's going to say no, and then she smiles. "Yeah, that would be good." She nudges the chocolates again. "Have another one. Are you going to be ok until then?"

And the sad truth is, most of her temper has already dissipated in the wake of the prospect of another night spent with Jo. "I can probably manage," she grins sheepishly, and Jo nods, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she put it in for the crime scene, shaking it out. Kate stares stupidly for a second before she realises she really has no reason to be in here anymore.

"Thanks for the pep talk and the chocolate," she mumbles, hoping she hasn't come across to idiotic.

"Anytime," Jo says, and her warm, soft voice wraps around Kate all afternoon.

***

It's probably not healthy when one person can affect your mood so much, Kate thinks. Ten minutes into their drink, her cheeks hurt from smiling and her gloom is pretty much gone. Jo's look of disgust at the glittery invitation is absolutely priceless.

"And then he called me," Kate finishes the story. "Said he wanted to make sure I could bring anyone I wanted. Really be myself." It was the most awkward call they've ever had. Kate has never regretted anything more than telling Mark that she might start seeing women. "I wouldn't be surprised if the reason he wants me there is to show everyone that it was all my fault, that I was gay all along."

Jo makes a noise of disgust, throwing the invitation down on the table. There's glitter all over her fingers and her napkin. "I just don't see why you need to do this to yourself."

Kate sighs. "Because now he's invited me, I'm going to look dead petty if I don't go." Ever since the divorce, everything has been a game between them. "Plus Josh wants me there."

Jo frowns. "Well, I think it's bollocks."

This is one of Kate's favourite versions of Jo. One bottle of wine in, slightly more relaxed, but still the sharpest tongue Kate's ever met. She's so pretty in the candle light that it takes physical effort not to mention it.

"I should show up there with a bloody super model or something," Kate jokes, trying to distract herself from staring at Jo like a lovesick puppy. "That would serve him right."

Jo starts playing with the foot of her wineglass, a sure sign she's about to say something she's not quite sure how Kate will take. "I mean, I'm not a supermodel," she says lightly, "but I could come, as your moral support?"

And god, there they go again. Because sometimes, in some moments, Kate is so sure that she’s not the only one who feels this, who wants something more. Sometimes, Jo will touch her hand, and they'll make eye contact, and it’s like the world stops for a minute, like there’s this crackling tension between them that’s physical. Sometimes, when they’ve been out having a glass of wine and it’s late and one of them is walking the other to their car, there’ll be a moment before they say goodbye when they both lean in for a hug that goes on just a second too long, and for a second Kate will think we’re going to kiss.

And then it passes, and she’s back in that zone where she’s not sure whether she’s reading into the first female friendship she’s made in about a decade because it happens to coincide with her realisation that she’s not entirely straight.

The thing is, she really does value Jo as a friend, and she’s pretty sure Jo appreciates having someone who understands too. As far as Kate is aware, she is the only one Jo is officially out to on the team, although of course Chris clearly has his suspicions.

And Jo’s opened up about other stuff as well: after Kate told her the story about how Buckells screwed up her UCO on Rox Huntley, it was like the flood gates opened and Jo felt able to share some of her frustrations about the DSU as well.

Kate gets it. She’s worked in majority male teams her whole career. She knows the stupid jokes that get made, the ‘banter’ that goes on behind the women’s backs. Having someone to share all that with is special. And fixating on a crush, however intense it might be, is unhelpful.

Except then Jo has to go and do something like this. Has to offer to go with Kate as her date to her ex husband’s wedding. Is that a thing friends do?

“I mean, he doesn’t know I’m your boss,” Jo continues when Kate doesn’t say anything. “You could just show up there with me to make a point.”

It does sound appealing. Particularly Pamela’s face is a joy to imagine. Kate grins. “My ex mother in law would have an aneurism, which does have appeal.”

Jo laughs with her, her smile so pretty and open that Kate’s heart has a little stutter. It’s so unfair, how beautiful Jo is when she's not even trying.

She looks down quickly. “Nah, it’s nice of you to offer but it’s going to be dead awkward. Haven’t seen Mark’s family since the divorce, or most of our so-called friends, so it would probably not be a lot of fun.”

Jo raises her eyebrow, smiling slightly. “This sounds like the worst time ever. Which is why you shouldn’t go alone.”

What Kate should say is I’ll ask Steve. What she should say is that’s really not necessary.

What comes out of her mouth, however, is “yeah, ok, that sounds fun,” which is not only dumb but incredibly lame.

What the hell has she let herself in for?

***

It doesn’t occur to Kate until a couple of days before the wedding that she’s going to have to explain Jo’s presence to Josh. They’ve met a few times now and seemed to get on fine, but somehow saying that your boss is your fake date so you can one-up your son’s father at his wedding doesn’t seem quite right.

But to her surprise, when he asks about her plus one and she awkwardly mutters that she is bringing Jo, he just shrugs and said “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Cool.”

And that was that.

Not for the first time, she realises with frightening clarity that her baby boy isn’t such a baby anymore. Only a year or so ago he wouldn't have understood why she needs someone there, someone to support her. He's growing up fast.

Josh is best man, so he stays with his dad the night before. Kate resists the urge to get bitterly drunk and instead spends most of it on the phone with Jo, watching the last episodes of the Tiger King documentary they started the other week and bitching about it.

The next day, Jo insists on driving (“you’ll need to drink more than I will”). Because it’s Jo, she’s early, and Kate’s still getting ready when she arrives.

“You look lovely, Kate,” Jo smiles at her. “I meant to tell you last time, this dress is gorgeous.”

Kate’s decided that having spent all that money on it she needs to get the most out of the dress she bought for Chris’s wedding, and so she’s wearing it again, but she’s put a lot more effort into her hair and makeup today. She tells herself it’s to make a point to Mark, and of course that’s partly it, but if she’s completely honest she knows it’s mainly because she’ll be with Jo.

Jo, who has shown up in a deep blue suit, with a silky top underneath that’s so low cut Kate actually gulps when she first glimpses it, and the highest heels she’s ever seen Jo in. When Kate opened the door she tried to think of something eloquent to say but the only thing that came out of her mouth was “Wow, you look nice,” which is the biggest understatement of the century and makes Kate want to ram her face into a wall in embarrassment.

She doesn’t remember being this awkward with men. Truth be told, she never used to have a problem with crushes. The men she liked tended to have expressed an interest, and she’s not had this before, this obsession with someone where she acts ridiculous around them all the time.

Still, she’s grateful Jo’s with her when they get to the venue. The minute they arrive, she can tell that people are whispering about her. She scowls.

"Don't let them see they're getting to you," Jo whispers, smiling widely and waving at two of Mark's aunts who are clearly talking about them at the door.

Luckily, Josh comes out to say hi, which distracts Kate when she sees how grown up he looks in his three piece suit. To her embarrassment, and Josh's, her eyes actually well up.

“Don’t ruin all that lovely make-up,” Jo whispers, rubbing her back, and even through the fabric of her dress Kate feels the touch like a shock.

“Thanks for keeping Mum company,” Josh smiles at Jo, who returns the smile while Kate dabs her eye.

“It’s my pleasure.” Jo keeps her hand on Kate’s back as they walk in and a good portion of Mark’s side openly stare, and Kate has never been more grateful for her.

Jo has told her several times now that she’s not good with relationships, that she finds it hard to open up, but Kate discovers that despite all that she’s an excellent date. She sticks to Kate all day, like a sort of half accessory half guard dog, as the other guests start to circle.

Mark and Jennifer are first, and Kate begrudgingly admits that Jennifer is very gracious about everything.

“I know it’s a bit awkward,” she says, “but thank you for coming. I’m sure Josh really appreciates it.”

Mark, however, seems to be stuck on Jo; he can’t stop staring and with a stab of vicious pleasure, Kate realises she’s brought a woman to his wedding that is exactly his type.

“You must be Kate’s…” he trails off somewhat pathetically, like the word ‘girlfriend’ is stuck in his throat.

“Jo.” Kate can tell from Mark’s slight grimace that the handshake they exchange is very firm. “Thanks for having us.”

Mark shifts his weight. “You’ll need to watch out for that one,” he tells Jo, his voice clearly intended to be joking. “Bit of a workaholic, eh Kate? Hope you like spending time apart!”

The fact that it’s true doesn’t make the sting of humiliation any less, and Kate looks down at her feet, her cheeks red and angry. "Christ, Mark," she mutters, shaking her head.

"What?" He laughs, that big fake laugh that Kate hates. "Have I said anything untrue?"

“Personally I think it’s a real shame that civilians often don’t realise the amount of work and personal sacrifice that goes into keeping them safe,” Jo replies, in the same tone that she often uses with Buckells when he’s being particularly dense. “But being a DCI myself I don’t think Kate and I are going to have that problem.”

Mark’s face starts going red at that, and Jennifer quickly announces that they need to do the rounds, and they’re away.

Kate turns to Jo. “Thank you,” she smiles. She’s spent so many years with crippling guilt that she can’t be both the best at her job and the best for her family, and having someone stuck up for her is a novel experience.

Jo just smiles. “This is why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Is it? Kate wants to ask. What the hell are we doing here?

In some ways, she feels caught in a déjà vu; another wedding, another dinner next to Jo. Of course the last couple of times they’ve not been at a table with Kate’s former friends, most of whom make awkward comments that they’d meant to call and they should do lunch some time and openly stare at Jo like they’re not quite sure what to do.

Jo doesn’t seem bothered; she helps deflect many of the awkward pauses and keeps her hand on Kate’s arm between courses, grounding her. It's been a long time since she's felt like someone has had her back this way other than Steve, and it's weird but good, to know that Jo is there for her. Will stick up for her.

The most uncomfortable encounter is with Kate’s former mother in law Pamela, of course, who has always hated her and who seems to have been waiting for this all day.

“Katherine,” she smiles, her eyes positively glinting with mean-spirited delight. “How lovely you came.” She looks at Jo, her mouth curling. “And I see you’ve brought your friend. I must say I was hardly surprised when Mark told me. I’m just glad he’s finally got someone who’s really right for him. I’m sure you understand.”

“Absolutely,” Jo jumps in, a steely edge to her voice. “It’s so great that they’re both finally getting what they need. And to think if it wasn’t for your son, Kate might never have realised she was bisexual!” She gives Pamela a wide smile. “So I guess I have a lot to thank him for.”

Pamela looks affronted and hurries off quickly after that, and Kate turns to Jo, eyes wide.

“Sorry, Kate,” Jo says apologetically. “I hope I didn’t go too far. It’s just getting to me that they’re all treating you like it was all your fault.”

“Did you just imply to Pamela that Mark was so bad in bed it turned me bi?” Kate asks. She knows she should be annoyed; this is her son’s grandmother after all, but she can’t find it in herself to be anything but amused.

“I’m sorry,” Jo says contritely.

“It’s ok.” And it is. This whole day has been awkward and at times horrible, but it’s also been ok, because of Jo.

Suddenly, she realises that she doesn’t have to be there anymore. She’s shown up, she’s shown her face, let everyone know there’s no hard feelings. Let Mark’s relatives have their fun at her expense. But she’s done her penance. “Want to get out of here?” she asks Jo, feeling suddenly ten stone lighter. “Head to mine, have some wine?”

Jo looks surprised but pleased. “Yeah. If you’re sure?”

Kate nods. She quickly says goodbye to Josh, who hugs her and thanks her for coming, and then they’re heading out to Jo’s car, giggling at the memory of Pamela’s face.

“I seriously owe you after that,” Kate calls over her shoulder as she unlocks the door.

“That’s what friends are for,” Jo replies, slipping out of her shoes and coat, like she belongs there. “At least, that’s my general understanding. Not had much practice, before you.”

Pleased, Kate ducks her head down. “Me neither, to be honest. Not with other women.”

“What a waste.” Jo follows her to the kitchen, watching her pull out two wine glasses. “You’re pretty good at it.”

God, she needs to stop blushing.

“Red or white,” she manages to ask, holding them up, and then closer as Jo gestures to her. Jo actually cares, about labels and flavours and words like ‘full bodied’, and so she lets her read the labels, trying not to jerk to obviously when Jo gently turns her wrist so she can read the year on the white.

“Let’s go with the red." Then she slips her blazer off and Kate almost drops the bottle because that silky, low-cut top is just a slip of a vest, exposing Jo's pale shoulders and the freckles down her arms. "So," she says, her voice sounding deliberately light, and Kate forcibly draws her eyes away from Jo's arms and the outline of her biceps and back to her face. "How are you feeling after today?"

The question stops her in her tracks, distracting her momentarily from obsessing over the way the left strap of Jo's top is slightly twisted and whether it would be weird for her to reach over the breakfast bar and fix it for her. "Fine." And she is, surprisingly. The bitterness she's been feeling the last few weeks, ever since the invitation dropped through the door, has gone. "I think a part of me always just thought that I would be the one to move on first, you know?" She knows it sounds petty, and she's embarrassed, but it also feels good to say it out loud, like she's sucking something poisonous out. "And I know it was my own fault that our marriage collapsed, but I thought it would hurt a lot more seeing him move on."

Jo clears her throat. "And it didn't?" she prompts gently.

Kate shakes her head, filling the wine glasses up generously. "No." It's the strange, honest truth. "I mean, sure, there were points in the day where I would have liked to punch something, but it wasn't because I was sad. I really think I've finally moved on. Got some closure, you know?"

They head to the sofa, curling up on opposite ends. Kate has to tug her dress up slightly so she can curl her feet underneath herself, and for a second she's sure she sees Jo's eyes follow her hands over her thighs.

"You know one person who won't get over this?" Kate suddenly laughs. "My mother. She loved Mark. Used to call him her favourite child."

"Oh dear." Jo laughs as well. "I must say, the whole family thing just seems very stressful. I suppose that's one upside of not having one."

She says it like she's joking, but Kate can hear the edge in her voice. It's the first time Jo's ever initiated a discussion about family. Kate knows she's an only child, because she asked her that once when she was complaining about her own brother. She knows Jo's mother is dead, because she mentioned it in passing the one time Kate came to Jo's flat to pick her up and saw the picture by the door. But that's it. Almost five months of friendship and that's all she knows.

"You never talk about your family," Kate says softly, trying not to startle her. She desperately wants Jo to feel like she can open up to her.

Jo takes a long sip of wine, a tactic Kate recognises. "Yeah. It's hard to talk about."

Immediately, Kate regrets pushing. "I'm sorry, you don't have to-"

"My mother killed herself when I was fourteen." Jo's voice is very quiet, and she's not looking at Kate. "I came home from school and found her. After that I was in a home for teenage girls until I turned eighteen."

"Jesus, Jo." Kate feels like someone is cracking her heart, looking at Jo's drawn, pale face. "I'm so sorry."

Jo looks up at her then. Her eyes are dry but her bottom lip is trembling slightly. "I've never told anyone that before."

"Never?" Not for the first time, the deep loneliness of Jo's life makes her ache. She's perhaps the most closed off person Kate has ever met, and the fact that she's still so kind, so determined to get justice for those she helps despite being so shuttered off herself is so incredible to her. Still, Kate knows her well enough to know that Jo wouldn't appreciate her mentioning it. "Thank you for telling me."

Jo gives her the smallest smile, just a quirk of her mouth, but the corners of her eyes crinkle and Kate feels like her heart might burst. "I don't know why I always want to tell you things." Her voice is so soft but Kate hears every word like she's shouting them. "You just look at me and my mouth moves on its own."

Kate's heart starts thudding so hard she's surprised she's not shaking with it. Surely, surely, Jo must mean something by that? Surely Kate isn't the only one that feels this thing between them? "You can tell me anything." She sets her wine glass down. "Anything you want."

Jo sets her glass down too. She shakes her head gently, her smile a little sad. "You make it so hard."

"What do you mean?" She reaches out, along the top of the sofa, to cover Jo's hand where it rests along the back.

"To keep a distance from you." Jo turns her hand under Kate's, so their palms are touching.

All of the alcohol Kate has drunk today seems to have left her as the hot, anxious feeling of something sitting between them floods her from head to toe. Does Jo mean...? "You don't have to keep your distance," she whispers, watching as Jo's mouth parts in a little gasp.

"Kate," she replies, and it's a question and a plea. They look at each other for a moment, Kate's heart thumping, wondering whether she should push, whether they might finally address the elephant in the room, and then Jo whispers a soft "Shit," and pushes herself forward and Kate doesn't hesitate, sliding forward on her knees and meeting her halfway.

Jo's kissing slowly, like every touch of their lips is costing her, and she's trembling.

"Hey." Kate tries to make her voice reassuring, but it comes out raspy and she winces at herself. "Jo, are you ok?"

Jo reaches up and cups Kate's face, her eyes stricken. "Kate," she whispers, and it sounds like her heart is breaking. "Please."

Kate wishes, not for the first time, that there as a window into Jo's mind, that she could just see what she's thinking for a brief moment so she can help her, be there for her.

"Tell me." She would give Jo anything at this moment. "Do you want to stop?" The idea makes Kate's heart hurt, but Jo just huffs out a little breath.

"Will you touch me?" she asks instead. "Please, Kate. I just-"

Kate doesn't hesitate. Every daydream from the last seven months she's been working with Jo, every fantasy that she's only let herself indulge in late at night, in the darkness, when she can't control her mind anymore, floods her at once, and she leans down from where she kneels above her and kisses Jo so thoroughly that she lets out a little sound of surprise at the back of her throat.

But Kate can't stop. Not now, when she knows Jo wants this. Not when she's sure that that soft touch me will be burned into her brain forever. She kisses Jo like she can make up for every time she wanted to and didn't right now, like she can make Jo feel what she feels somehow without having to say it.

And Jo lets her. She gasps and sighs and clutches at Kate, lets Kate pull her gently to the bedroom, lets her peel them out of their clothes and tumble to Kate's unmade bed.

It's different to last time, when Jo coaxed an enthusiastic Kate through the motions. This time, Kate knows what she wants. She's spent months thinking about little else, and Jo doesn't seem to mind, judging by her throaty gasps and the way she arches into Kate as she kisses down her body and drops to her knees beside the bed, tugging Jo closer to the edge.

Kate's never done this before, and she's never wanted to be good at something as much in her whole life. She starts slow, pulling one of Jo's legs over her shoulder and kissing down it, revelling in the way Jo lets out a little "oh!" as she reaches the juncture of her thighs. And then her mouth goes dry because Jo's legs spread before her and her hips arch like she's desperate for it, and there's no time for nerves, no time for anything but making Jo feel good.

It doesn't take long at all, once Kate has found a rhythm that has Jo pulling her head closer and grinding into her mouth. "Oh my god," Jo cries out, and her body goes taut, and Kate has never felt so powerful in all her life.

It's not enough, though, not after all these months of longing. She feels Jo twitch under her mouth and on impulse, slips one finger just-inside, barely there.

Jo gasps, shaking, but she doesn't tell her to stop, and Kate suddenly needs to see her. She slides up Jo's body, moving her finger ever so softly and gently, delighting in the way Jo's still fluttering around her from her last orgasm.

Jo's eyes are closed, her head back, but her right hand reaches for Kate's and grabs her left one, holding on tight like she needs an anchor. That Jo lets her see her like this, vulnerable and exposed as she is, lost in her pleasure and trusting Kate to take her there, is something that makes Kate clench between her own legs. She never wants to stop putting that expression of blissful agony on Jo's face, never wants to stop making her feel good.

All too soon, however, Jo's fingers tighten around Kate's, and her body starts to tremble, and despite the gentleness of Kate's touch between her legs, barely there on her clit, Jo comes like it might break her, breathless and back arching, heels digging into the bed.

It's incredible.

Kate's never been a massive one for post-sex cuddling, but she finds that she can't stop touching Jo, sliding her hand over her stomach and rubbing it gently, trying to ground her as she comes back down.

"Bloody hell." Jo sounds exhausted, but she's smiling, eyes still closed. "I don't think I can move."

Smug, and feeling like her chest has swollen to twice the size with happiness, Kate lies her head down next to Jo and turns to face her. "So it was ok then?" she asks innocently, like her fingers aren't still aching from where Jo held onto them for dear life.

"Fishing for compliments isn't an attractive quality, Fleming," Jo jokes back, sighing as she shifts her body and turns to face Kate as well. "I'm sorry, I'm going to need a minute before I..." she gestures to Kate.

"Take your time." Honestly, Kate is pretty sure that at this point, she'd probably come in about ten seconds, so it's probably for the best if she gets a minute to calm down.

"This was not how I was expecting today to go." Jo shakes some of her hair out of her head.

"Me neither." Kate wouldn't have allowed even her fantasises to stretch that far. Sometimes, she'll lie in the darkness and think about a moment during the day, a moment where she's felt that tension between them, and picture it all over, except this time she doesn't step back, or let Jo pass, or change the subject. In her imagine, she resets the scene, steps closer, leans down, kisses Jo, finally shows her how she feels. "I'm just so glad we finally did this again."

And then Jo blinks, and leans back a little. "You wanted this to happen again?"

Kate draws her eyebrows together. She's not exactly subtle; Steve is always telling her that. "Well, yes." She looks down at them, at the their naked bodies and their underwear strewn around on the floor. "Didn't you?" Because five minutes ago, it certainly seemed like Jo did.

Obviously realising how that sounded, Jo shakes her head. "Of course I did."

But there's something, something niggling at Kate, and the happy bubble in her chest starts to deflate slightly. Her arousal recedes like she's been plunged in cold water. "So what's the problem?" She tries to keep her voice light but she's aware she's not doing a very good job, not when it's trembling slightly. "We're both single, we get on well, we clearly have chemistry..."

Jo sits up, pulling the blanket around her, and she gives Kate such a regretful look that it hurts like a slap in the face.

Oh.

"We can't do this again, Kate," Jo says softly. "We work together, we're friends-"

Kate also sits up. Her hands are trembling and she twists them together. "I don't understand what's happening here. I thought you... I thought we..." She's mortified. Sure, she's new to having feelings for women, but she's been in relationships for most of her adult life, she likes to think she can pick up the signs when someone likes her. "I thought..." She swallows hard. "I thought you liked me."

"I do!" Jo's voice wobbles a little, but the fact that she's not totally unaffected is a small comfort to Kate, who suddenly feels very cold. "It's not that I don't want to."

"Then what is it?" Her voice sounds harsh to her own ears but she can't control it. Her eyes sting and she looks away. She's not going to bloody cry.

"I'm not good at this stuff, Kate." Jo reaches for her but Kate pulls back. She can't be touching Jo right now, not like this. "I destroy everyone I touch."

Anger comes then, and it's a welcome relief to the heartbreak and humiliation she's been feeling until now. "That's such bullshit, Jo." Her harshness makes Jo flinch and it gives Kate a horrible, vindictive sort of pleasure. "You always say that. That you're not good in relationships, at letting people in. But guess what? That's crap. You're smart and you're kind and you're a great boss, a great friend-"

"Stop," Jo chokes out. "Kate, you don't know me." She's shaking her head, and Kate tries not to notice that there's tears in Jo's eyes now. "You don't know what I am. I'm not, I'm not good."

"Jo!" And fuck, Kate can't hold the tears back anymore, she feels them rolling over her cheeks as she kneels next to her, touching her face. "I do." She rubs her thumb gently over Jo's face. "I'm not daft. I know there's stuff in your past. You told me some of it tonight, and I know there must be more. I know that. I know it's hard. But that doesn't make you bad, Jo. I know you, ok? And I think you're incredible."

For a second, Kate thinks she's won. Jo leans into her hand, sobbing quietly, her face crumpled in grief. But then she steels herself, sits back and let's Kate's hand fall away, and Kate knows her heart is going to shatter.

"I'm sorry," Jo whispers, and she looks it. "I can't."

Suddenly, the walls of her bedroom seem like they're closing in on her. She needs to get out, out of this room that smells of sex and laughter, out of this space that Jo seemed to fit into like there was a space made just for her.

"I need to go," Kate says stupidly, reaching down and pulling on the first tshirt she comes across. "I, erm. I need to get milk. Just, erm, just shut the door behind you when you leave." She stumbles as she pulls on her jeans, foot in the wrong leg at first in her panic to get out.

But when she gets to the door, she hesitates, even though she knows she'll regret it. "Why?" she asks, hating herself for how pathetic she sounds. "Why did you sleep with me if you didn't feel the same way?"

The sheets behind her rustle and she turns, against her better instincts, to see Jo kneeling on the bed, her face wet. "I'm sorry." Jo hugs her arms around herself. "I know I shouldn't have, I know, and I'm so sorry." She takes a deep breath. "It's not that I don't feel the same, Kate. I like you, I do-"

"Just not enough." And there's the rub. Not enough to take a risk on them.

"Kate," Jo whispers, but Kate just grabs two socks and hurries out the room. She can still feel the tears on her face but everything else feels like it's happening to someone else. Stumbling out of the door, laces untied. Wiping at her face and realising she has mascara streaked all over it. Trying to ignore the concerned expression on the face of the girl behind the counter at the petrol station down the road when she bangs a pint of milk and a bottle of whisky on the counter.

It's not until she's sliding her key back into her door that she feels something. Some hope that maybe, that Jo's changed her mind. That she'll be waiting for Kate, tearful and regretful, that she'll feel the same way about her.

But her flat is empty, and dark. She slides out of her shoes and sinks onto the sofa, twisting the bottle off the whisky open and tries to understand how everything went so totally wrong.

Chapter Text

part iv

Memorandum - Strictly Confidential

From: Superintendent Hastings

To: DI Arnott

Subject: Operation Goldfinch

Please note that approval has now been granted for DI Fleming to be briefed on Operation Goldfinch. In particular, her UCO in relation to the proposed surveillance and capture operation on 18 April as AFO assigned to the protection of Witness D has been approved. You are hereby authorised to release any and all relevant files to DI Fleming and brief her on Operation Goldfinch and the UCO.

Kate's good holiday mood lasts exactly an hour and fifteen minutes, the time it takes her to drive from the airport to her flat, stopping on the way at Mark and Louise's and dropping Josh off. She's looking forward to a glass of wine, and putting her feet up while she avoids unpacking for as long as possible.

Instead, she's greeted by the sight of Steve Arnott leaning against his frankly ridiculous car, waiting for her.

"Alright, mate," he grins. "Looks like you got your sunbathing on?"

Kate frowns. "Hardly. Josh's got really into his bloody hiking. I thought holidays are supposed to be restful!" Still, she'd got a few days by the pool, pretending to read all the books she'd brought with her but really half dozing, and she's got a fair tan going. "Not to be rude, mate, but you do realise I'm off until tomorrow?"

It's her first proper day back in AC-12 tomorrow. For the last five months, she's been seconded to East Midlands on a deep undercover mission, and then for the last two weeks she's been in Spain with Josh, finally relaxing and being able to see him and speak to him properly after all those months of covert calls and stolen visits at motorway rest stops half way between Northampton and his house.

He's better at understanding now, Josh, about what she does and why she does it. She remembers when he was very little, before she passed her detectives exam and still wore her uniform, he used to get so excited, pulling on her hat and pretending to arrest Mark. But the long days and longer nights away, the months of very little contact, it wore their relationship down. Surprisingly, it was the last, final split from Mark that improved their relationship immeasurably. Possibly because Mark has Louise now, possibly because they've stopped bad-mouthing each other to Josh. Or maybe it's just that he's more mature now, and understands better why she does what she does.

Reconnecting with him on this trip, after all the months of stress and being constantly on her toes was just what she needed. And she is looking forward to working with Steve again, even if she had been hoping to at least get to enjoy one final night of putting her feet up and not worrying about work.

"Sorry, mate." He does look legitimately apologetic, which is always a bad sign. "This couldn't wait."

Great.

She pops her boot and pulls out her suitcase, biting back the joke about making him carry it in. He's been getting more physio for his back, but she knows he's still not one hundred percent. "Well, come in then." She jerks her head irritably. "And put the kettle on while I change, I forgot how cold England is."

She hurries to her bedroom, dumping the case by the door and grabbing a hoodie from the pile on the chair. She sighs. Whatever this is, it's not good. She knows that Steve's been involved in a complex investigation for the last few months, but she knows none of the details and had liked it that way. Honestly, she had enough going on in her head without worrying about what he's working on as well.

But now, the holiday is well and truly over.

She comes back to the kitchen to find Steve fishing the tea bags out of the mugs. "Got you a milk," he says, and Kate's annoyance fades to fondness.

"Thanks." She takes the mug he pushes to her and pulls herself up onto a stool, watching him pull the files he's brought towards him and sit next to her. "Well, might as well get on with it then."

He nods. "Operation Goldfinch, tasked with gathering intel on human trafficking and sexual exploitation of underage girls from Eastern Europe to England. We initially got involved because the SIO had concerns about continued leaks from the team. We focused our enquiries on DI Liam Erikson, who we discovered was being blackmailed by the OCG." He pulls out a file and pushes it to her. "In the course of our investigations, Erikson cooperated and provided details of other police officers on the OCG's payroll. We were also able to identify the individual we suspect has taken over from John Thomas Hunter as the point of contact between corrupt police officers and the OCG." Steve takes out a photograph. It's grainy and clearly taken from a distance. "Darren Hunter, Tommy's son."

Kate nods to show she's keeping up.

"He has a prior for GBH, so his DNA was on file. We ran it together with some of the other suspects identified by Erikson through our database to see if we could link it to any of the open murder enquiries in relation to the OCG."

"And?" Kate's head is fully in the game now. They must have something big if it can't wait until tomorrow.

"And we found a partial match against the a control sample held on the police data base matching a serving officer."

Kate's eyes go wide. "There's a serving police officer related to Tommy and Darren Hunter?"

Steve nods. "Witness D. Witness D had been in care since she was a teenager and we weren't sure if she was even aware of the connection. She had a different surname and as far as we could tell had had no contact with Tommy before his death or Darren. So we approached her."

"That's a big risk," Kate says, raising her eyebrows. "You must have been sure she wasn't bent?"

Steve takes a deep breath. "Yeah, we were pretty sure." He pulls out the bottom folder. "Turns out the partial DNA match had an unusually high percentage match and runs of homozygosity." He looks at Kate, and his face is serious. "Tommy Hunter was both her uncle and her father."

"Jesus Christ." Kate shakes her head. "Did she know?"

"Yeah." Steve nods. "She knew. She said her mother was raped by Tommy. I think it was one of the reasons she agreed to help us."

Pushing those awful details into a compartment in her mind, Kate gestures to the files. "So what's she been doing?"

"She's made contact with her cousin, Darren's sister, who we know is still in contact with Darren. Said she wants to reconnect with her biological family. She mentioned she was in the police and as we suspected, that information has been passed on to Darren by her cousin. We strongly suspect an attempt will be made to recruit Witness D as a corrupt officer at a family event happening in Scotland next week."

Kate nods. "And presumably we'll be there instead."

Steve hesitates for the first time. "Witness D has agreed to go in wearing a wire."

Feeling her eyes go wide, Kate sets down her mug. "Jesus, that's one hell of a risk, Steve! Is she even trained for this? Who is this woman?"

There's a pause, and then Steve pulls out the final file, pushing it towards her and opening it on the first page.

A picture of Jo looks back at Kate, the one from her warrant card, where her hair is pulled back and she's got that impatient, I-have-better-things-to-do smile on her face. "No," Kate shakes her head. "No."

"Kate," Steve tries in what is clearly supposed to be an appeasing tone. "Mate, I wanted to tell you, I really did-"

"How many months have you been listening to me talk about her and not mentioned a fucking word about any of this, Steve?"

"I couldn't, you know that!"

She does, but that doesn't make it sting any less. The last couple of months Kate's been so much better. She even had a brief thing with a woman while she was in Northampton, only a few dates and a couple of nights together, but it still felt good, like cleansing the palate after a really rich meal. She'd felt positive, ready to finally move on now her transfer from MIT is official.

And now this. She tries not to think about all the awful things she's just learned about Jo's life, things that Jo almost certainly would not want her knowing. "Why are you telling me all of this?" she asks instead.

"The higher ups will only approve Davidson going in if she's accompanied by an AFO."

Kate nods. "Makes sense. She's taking a hell of a risk." The idea of someone hurting Jo makes her feel sick, even as she tells herself that that is none of her business. Then she looks at Steve and sees his expression, and shakes her head. "Oh, Christ, Steve, no. No!"

"Kate," he holds up his hands, "look, we need someone she trusts-"

"Well then you've got the wrong woman." She shocks herself at how bitter she sounds. Sure Fleming, she thinks to herself. You're clearly over it.

"She asked for you."

It stops Kate in her tracks. "What?"

"She did." He pushes the files along the breakfast bar towards her. "It needs to be a woman and someone we can trust, and she asked me if I thought you'd be willing."

Something in her chest contracts and for a worrying moment she thinks she might start crying in front of Steve, but she turns away quickly and manages to breathe through it. She's not sure whether it's because Jo still trusts her enough to have her back on this, or because she also clearly knows that Kate is still so pathetically hung up on her that she would do anything to help her.

"Hastings won't approve it." Kate's already cringing at the conversation she's going to have to have with him. "Not when he finds out..." Steve pulls a very guilty face and Kate throws her hands up. "Tell me you didn't?!"

"He couldn't understand why I was hesitating!" Steve says defensively, but she can tell he feels bad. "And it affects this enquiry."

"That's such bull-"

"Would you really have preferred to have to explain it to him yourself?" Steve asks, and Kate feels her righteous indignation simmer down.

"No, I suppose not." She's not had much experience with the whole coming out thing, and so far she's not had any bad experiences if you don't count Pamela, but she knows the gaffer has his own very particular views on these things. "Was he...did he...."

"Took him a minute to catch on," Steve grins a little. "But then he was very supportive. Wanted to know if he should have a word with you to let you know about the force's LGBTQ support network."

"Fucking Christ," Kate mumbles under her breath. She's not going to be able to look him in the eye for a week. "Right, well, anyway," she moves on, willing her cheeks to stop burning, "and you're saying he's ok with this despite what happened with me and Jo?" She almost chokes on her name, and avoids Steve's pitying look as best possible.

"He said the most important thing is that Davidson can trust whoever it is, and since we know you, you're the best option."

"Well, then," she says sarcastically, "sounds like you've all got it worked out without me, don't you."

Steve sighs. "Look, I know this is hard, but we've never been closer to taking down someone this high in the OCG."

"It's fine," she replies, even though it's not. Her heart aches at the idea of seeing Jo again, having to spend time with her, and yet a sick part of herself is excited to see her, despite everything that's happened. "Just give me the files."

Hesitating, Steve leaves his hands on them. "Look, there's some pretty grim stuff in here. About her childhood."

Kate snatches the folders and shoves them on the coffee table. "Ok." Her mind races, though. About what Jo said about her family being hard to talk about. About what she's learned about them tonight. God, no wonder she had trouble opening up. The tell-tale signs of a tension headache creep down her forehead. "Look, I'm going to run a bath and then I'll read this, yeah?"

Steve nods and grabs his jacket, recognising the dismissal. "Look, I'm really sorry I couldn't tell you."

"Yeah, me too," she says, but gives him the best smile she can manage to show there's no hard feelings, mostly.

"See you tomorrow," he calls, and she shuts the door behind him and sags against it. Christ. Why can't the world just let her move on?

***

Kate spends a pretty restless night, her relaxed post-holiday chill completely gone. She does try a bath, but the files in the living room weigh on her mind, and she only stays in long enough to scrub the airplane smell off herself, then curls up on the sofa in her fluffy dressing gown, her hair still wet.

The first file is just Jo's service record, and she only skims it; she knows a lot of this already. The next file is on Darren Hunter and his known associates, and the more Kate reads the more concerned she becomes. He's a nasty piece of work, to whom charges don't seem to stick. He's a person of interest in all sorts of unpleasant stuff - assaults, indecent exposure, extortion... The idea of this man sharing anything in common with Jo is unthinkable.

She also reads over the whole Operation Goldfinch file, which is by far the thickest of them all. When 'Witness D' starts cropping up, Kate hates herself for the way her brain just jumps to attention. She wants to know everything and nothing about what's happened to Jo in the months since she's last seen her, wants to read it all cover to cover and simultaneously call in sick tomorrow and hide.

She knows, of course, that she'll go in. Do her job. Pull this through. She can't resist a fight, can't bear hiding. Even if sometimes it would be the best thing for her.

The last file is the social work file on Jo, and she hesitates over it. It feels like a gross betrayal, even though it's literally her job, and fuck, this is why conflict of interest rules exist.

She braces herself as if for a punch, then flips open the file, breathing heavily.

It's worse than she thought. She ends up only skimming it: the birth certificate showing her mother was only fifteen when Jo was born; the reports from concerned teachers that Jo often came to school looking neglected; the three months in care when she was ten when her mother got treatment for alcoholism. When she gets to the police report on Jo finding her mother dead she can't read on. It's too hard, and she struggles to see the relevance. The idea that Jo has had to have people reading through this stuff, picking through her trauma like it's just another case, makes her feel sick. She skips forward, looking for records about why Jo ended up in a home rather than with her family, but it's not clear.

I'm not good, Jo had said. You don't know me. Had she really thought that Kate would think less of her because of this? That it would change the way she felt about her?

Wiping at her eyes, Kate shuts the file and shoves it with the others in her bag. If that's true, it just shows that Jo didn't know her at all.

***
Walking into AC-12 the next morning is distinctly weird, like she's performing a play she learned many years ago, and the lines seem seem to come to her out from no where. She parks in her old parking space. She signs in at reception. She comes out of the lift and sees her old desk is there waiting for her, a steaming mug of coffee courtesy of Steve ready and waiting. It's like she's stepped out of a time capsule.

"Miss me, did you?" she jokes, slipping off her coat.

"Just sick of doing all the work, mate," he grins back.

"DI Fleming!" comes across the bullpen, and she smiles across at a beaming Ted Hastings, framed in the door to his office.

"Sir." She walks over and he gestures for her to come in to his office. "Good to be back."

"We're delighted to have you." He steps forward and for an awkward moment she thinks he might go in for a hug, but then he just stretches his hand out and she shakes it, amused and relieved. No hard feelings, then. "Delighted. Now, Steve has brought you up to speed?"

She stands up a little taller. "Yes, sir. And I read through the papers yesterday."

"Good, good, excellent." He hesitates for a moment and Kate has a horrible feeling she knows what's coming. "Look, Kate, before we get started, I just wanted to make sure you know that I support you one hundred percent, and that I am aware that you have a prior personal relationship with Witness D-"

Kate closes her eyes briefly, hoping the ground might swallow her up. "It won't be a problem, Sir." She links her fingers behind her back, focusing just over Ted's shoulder so she doesn't have to see the awkward expression on his face. "It was nothing serious. It's over, it has been for months. It won't be a problem."

"Splendid," Hastings says loudly. "That's what I like to hear."

Wishing she could convince herself as easily as she's convinced her boss, Kate quickly changes the subject. "I know the operation is taking place at the wedding next week. What would you like me to work on in terms of prep?"

Hastings walks over to his desk, nodding. "Steve is taking point with the surveillance and Chloe is liaising with Police Scotland to ensure we're all clear there. What we need you to do is get up to speed with your cover identity." He hands her a folder and she flips it open. Kate Fitzgerald. "And of course you'll need to meet with Witness D. The details are all in there."

She's been expecting this, but it still makes her palms slightly sweaty. "Sir," she nods, before heading back to her desk.

This was not how she imagined coming back to AC-12. Finally free of MIT, of Jo for good, only to be sucked right back in again.

***

The pre-operation briefing of Jo takes place on Wednesday night, at Jo's flat. Kate's cover identity is that she's Jo's girlfriend, a triple nine dispatcher who works night shifts, and that they rarely see each other. Steve mentioned that they're pretty sure that the OCG have Jo under surveillance now, so they can't risk her arousing suspicion.

Kate feels like she's stepped back in time, pulling up outside Jo's building and trying to will herself to go in. All day, she's been a mess; she had to change into her spare shirt because she spilled coffee down herself earlier, and Steve has been watching her worriedly all day, like he thinks she might snap.

She's not made of fucking glass, she wants to tell him. Just because she's had her heart broken doesn't mean she can't do her job. She's always been good at compartmentalising, at shoving down the pain for later and worrying only about the moment, and that's all she needs to do now.

She grabs the bags she has in the back, equipment in large Tesco bags for life so it looks like she's just bringing the shopping, and heads to the door she used to spend a lot of time walking Jo to. The sign on the buzzer is the same, the small, neat J. Davidson in Jo's right handwriting.

She buzzes, and there's only a brief pause before front door hisses open in response.

Kate rolls her eyes; so much for security. She shifts the bags in her hands and heads up, trying to push down any anticipation, any emotions. She needs to focus now and just do her job.

Jo's waiting by the door. She's in jeans and a hoodie, and her hair is shorter than the last time Kate saw her. It suits her.

"You might want to check who's at the door before you bloody buzz anyone up," comes out of Kate's mouth before she can stop herself, and then Jo's carefully blank expression breaks into a small grin.

"Hello, Kate," she says in a slightly mocking tone. "Nice to see you too."

Kate huffs, but she's glad the ice is broken. She's never been good with awkward silence. "I'm serious. I could have been anyone."

Rolling her eyes, Jo steps aside, gesturing her head to the wall next to the door, and Kate looks in to see a new security system that wasn't there the last time she was here, with video.

"Fine," she huffs, stepping in and trying not to notice the traces of Jo everywhere; the mug on the coffee table next to the laptop and files she's clearly working on.

"How are you?" Jo asks, closing the door. "You look good."

Her tone is friendly, casual, like they're acquaintances who have just run into each other at the dentist, and Kate can't take it. "Look," she says tightly, clenching her jaw. "Let's not make this any harder than it has to be. Let's just get on with this, get the job done."

Jo's face tightens. "Right." She steps away from the door. "Well, I'd offer you a tea but I wouldn't want to overst-"

"What the hell is that?" Kate asks, catching sight of the inside of Jo's door, which is covered in locks bolts.

Jo shrugs. "Just some extra security."

"Extra security," she repeats flatly, stepping closer to Jo and looking her over, properly, for the first time. She's lost some weight, weight she didn't really have to lose, and she's got dark circles under her eyes. "Has anyone been in contact? Has anything happened, anyone approached you or threatened you?"

Jo shakes her head. "Nothing I haven't told DI Arnott. But they are watching. I noticed a car a few days ago, saw the same man following me to work, and there's another guy as well. They take it in turns."

Kate closes her eyes briefly. The risk Jo's taking suddenly seems completely reckless. "You don't have to do this, you know." She shakes her head. "We can get them another way..."

"No you can't," Jo shakes her head. "You know you'll never get a chance like this again." She turns her head away, looking at the bags Kate's brought. "Is this it, then?"

They move upstairs, because Jo's bedroom is harder to look into, and she closes the blinds so that from the outside it just looks like they're a couple who haven't seen each other in a while getting busy. Kate tries not to look around Jo's room too much, but it's almost impossible not to notice the impeccable neatness, the carefully folded silk pyjamas on her pillow.

"Here's the dress," Kate says quickly, pulling the carefully folded garment bag from the first of the bags. "The mic is in one of the pearls."

Jo takes the bag from her and Kate snatches back her fingers to avoid them brushing together. She doesn't look up to see if Jo noticed, and instead bends down to get out the box with the receivers.

"I'll go try it on to make sure it fits," Jo says softly, disappearing into the bathroom, and Kate closes her eyes and takes a long, deep breath.

Really, in the grand scheme of things, it's going fine. Jo seems happy to work with her, to pretend like nothing ever happened, and that's a good thing. What was Kate expecting, anyway? For Jo to fall to her knees, confess her love and beg for forgiveness?

Well, no. But if she's honest, she was expecting something. Not an apology as such, she knows she's just as much to blame as Jo, for getting her hopes up without talking to Jo first. But some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice.

"It's a bit loose but I think it will do," Jo says from the doorway, and Kate swallows hard, because Jo looks fantastic. The dress is a dusky pink, low cut and edged with pearls. It's tight as well, and although Kate knows that that's to deflect suspicion, to ensure that when Jo is patted down no one notices that one pearl isn't quite like the others, it's also almost too much for Kate who is struggling to hold onto the last of her sanity.

The dress is a little loose around her waist, and Jo looks extra thin in it. "It'll be fine." Kate forces herself to look away. "Eat a couple more almond croissants, that'll sort it out."

"You remember about the croissants?" Jo asks softly, and Kate looks up incredulously.

"Do I remember? You were obsessed!"

"I was not," Jo smiles, looking down. There's a brief pause and then she steps closer to where Kate stands next to the open box on the bed, fiddling with the receiver for her ear. "Look, I just wanted to say thank you. For agreeing to do this. I know things are a bit-"

"It's fine," Kate cuts across her. "Just doing my job."

"Right." Jo nods, crossing her arms, and Kate tries not to feel guilty and shoves the receiver in her ear.

"Go next door and say something," she directs, to push away her feeling of guilt, and Jo goes into the bathroom.

"Testing," comes through, loud and clear a moment later. "Is that ok?"

"Works fine," Kate tells her when she slips back in a minute later. "So looks like we're good to go." Kate turns away as Jo steps out to get changed again, packing up the equipment and carefully folding it back into the box. Tech have done a good job, she'll have to make a point of mentioning it to them next time she stops down there.

Jo comes back in, in that soft, casual outfit that Kate tried very hard not to stare at earlier, pulling the dress back into its garment bag. "So we'll drive up on Friday night?"

Kate nods. "I'll drive. Chloe has arranged a hotel room for us. There'll be AFOs on the same floor. And at the wedding itself, there'll be teams in the kitchen, in the conference room behind the ballroom, and surrounding the building."

Jo nods; she's been told all of this by Steve but it's worth going over. Then she seems to realise that Kate is getting ready to go. "You can't leave yet!" she says, sounding affronted. "What are they going to think? What kind of girlfriends don't see each other for a week and then spend less than an hour together?"

Kate swears softly, because Jo is right. She manages to bite back a sharp retort about how she didn't know Jo was an expert on relationships all of a sudden, and nods. "Fine. I'll stay for a bit."

***
Jo makes her a cup of tea: splash of milk, one sugar, and the fact that she remembers shouldn't mean anything but it makes her ache a little, about how things could have been if they had both just been able to resist that night that changed everything.

Kate's thought about it a lot since. If Jo didn't feel like that about her, why had she wanted to sleep with her? Sure, their sex the first time had been pretty amazing, but they also worked together, and Jo was her boss, and they were friends, and if Jo didn't want Kate the way Kate wanted her, why had she risked all that?

Yet Kate knows she's not blameless. She should have stopped, insisted they talk about it. Found out straight off the bat what Jo was after, before everything between them shattered. Losing one of her best friends overnight was one of the hardest things that's happened to her.

They never used to have awkward silences, Kate reflects, nursing her tea and trying to pretend she's not watching Jo potter about in the kitchen, putting away the milk and sugar in such an elaborate way that it's a clear device to stay in the kitchen longer.

Well, good. At least Kate isn't the only one who feels awkward.

"Did you read it?" Jo suddenly asks behind her, and Kate jumps a little, glad her mug is already half empty so it doesn't spill on Jo's expensive rug.

"Read what?"

Jo sighs. "My file." Her voice shakes a little. "Did you read it?"

Oh. Kate feels herself soften. She can't even imagine what it must be like to have your worst secrets shared around like that. "Some of it," she nods. "Only what I felt I needed to. I won't read any more."

"No, you can." Jo sits down across from her, her voice soft and steady. "That's why I was asking. I, erm, I asked for you for a reason. I trust you."

Something in Kate breaks and heals all at once. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jo nods, mind made up. "And I'd rather you read it in there and asked me than heard it later, in an interrogation or in court."

Kate can understand that. She desperately wants to know why Jo picked her, of all people. Why she trusts her, still. Why she didn't go with a stranger.

But she chickens out, and instead says "Steve mentioned it had to be a female officer. He said people know, that you're..."

"Yeah." Jo smiles a little. "I, erm, well, I've been trying to be more open. About who I am. And I'm out, now, at work. And I mentioned it to my cousin Kirsty as well, the one who's getting married, and so it kind of needed to be a woman."

"That's great, Jo." She means it too, she really does. She almost says I'm proud of you but swallows it down again.

Her phone rings, and she swipes at it, relieved, breaking the moment that's building between them. She needs to get a bloody grip before next week.

It's just Steve, wanting an update for the gaffer, and she goes into probably way too much detail in an effort to keep the call going and avoid speaking to Jo, and by the time she comes off the call Jo has washed and tidied away their mugs and it's been long enough that Kate has a decent excuse to leave.

She's just zipping up her coat, when Jo speaks again, her voice small and hurt, a far cry from the way she's spoken to Kate all night. "Why did you leave?" she asks. "Why did you just disappear?"

Incredulous, Kate turns to face her. "Are you being serious?"

Jo crosses her arms, frowning. "I know we had our issues, but I didn't think it would stop us working together."

Kate shakes her head. "You thought we could just pretend it never happened?"

"I thought we could talk it through, like adults." Jo sounds angry now. "And not that one of us would just disappear on secondment without so much as a goodbye and then put in a remote permanent transfer request."

"Cut the crap." Kate's pissed now, too. "Don't play dumb, Jo, it doesn't suit you. You knew I had feelings for you. You must have. And you didn't feel the same way. Fine, I won't pretend it didn't hurt, but I can't blame you for that. But that doesn't mean I can just sit there, and work with you, and pretend I don't lov-" She cuts herself off as Jo's eyes go wide.

"Kate," she says softly. "I didn't-"

"I have to go," she lies. "I'll see you next week."

***
The drive up the M6 is one of the longest of Kate's life, spent in tense silence except when the traffic alert comes on, too loud in the quiet of the car, making them both jump every time.

They've not said two words to each other since Kate picked Jo up at lunch time and checked that she was ready to go, and Kate's neck is starting to ache from the way she's tensed it to resist glancing over at Jo, who has her elbow resting on the window and is staring out, lost in thought.

This is not good. Operations like this rely on communication and trust, and rationally, Kate knows they need to sort this out. This is going to be dangerous, especially for Jo, and Kate needs to know that Jo trusts her to have her back.

But every time they speak, Kate feels like someone is gripping her heart tightly, an ache she can't get rid of. She's never, never felt like this, not even with Mark, where months of being apart seem to have made absolutely no difference and all the hurt seems just as fresh as the day it happened.

How could Jo have really expected them to still work together, after what happened? The only explanation Kate can come up with is that Jo really was oblivious to the way Kate felt about her, but that doesn't explain why she slept with her in the first place, and really, Kate needs to be concentrating on the road, and the mission ahead, and not waste any more of her time trying to guess what the hell Jo Davidson was thinking at any given moment.

They're a few hours into the drive, just outside of Carlisle, when Jo suddenly breaks the silence. "I've been seeing someone," she says, and Kate almost jerks the wheel. "A therapist. I thought you should know."

Surprised, and irritated at herself at her pathetic relief, Kate glances over at Jo for the first time since they got out of the city. She's twisting her fingers together, the way she does when she's anxious. "You are?" She wonders what she should ask. Why Jo is telling her this. "Is it...I mean, do you think it's helping?"

Jo's quiet for a minute, like she's thinking it through. "It's hard," she says then, her voice soft. "It's only an hour a week but when it's over I'm so tired I just crash. But yeah. I think it is."

"When did you... I mean, why did you...." Kate trails off, not sure how to phrase what she wants to know.

Jo gives her a quick glance, before looking back down at her lap. "I wasn't in a good place, a few months ago." She sounds hesitant now, like she's worried about Kate's reaction. "I was signed off for a while, and OH wouldn't let me back unless I agreed to counselling."

Kate turns to her, looking her over quickly. "Jo." She's not sure what to say here, but the worry in her stomach overwhelms her own feelings of hurt.

"I'm fine, Kate, really." She's smiling now, a small but genuine smile. "Honestly, it was a long time coming. I just tend to push bad stuff down, never really deal with it, and then it just all caught up to me." She lets out a long breath. "But, yeah, I just wanted you to know. That I'm working on stuff."

Not quite sure what to say, Kate nods. "Ok." Then she feels like she needs to add something more. "Thanks for telling me."

It gnaws at her, though. Why has Jo told her this? The silence seems almost loaded now, like Kate's forgotten to say something. She closes her eyes briefly. Time to sort this out.

"This stuff about your family," she says inelegantly, cringing at herself, "is that why... I mean, is that what you're getting help with?"

She doesn't know if she's meant to pry here, but Jo relaxes a fraction, and with relief she realises that she's read it correctly and she was meant to push.

"That's some of it." Jo's voice is shaking a little, like she's trying not to cry. "I didn't find out, about what really happened to mum until I was eighteen. She told me she'd been raped, but she never said who it was." She swallows audibly. "The social worker told me, just before I left the home. So that I could make sensible choices about starting my own family."

A fierce, protective wave of rage rolls over Kate then. "They actually said that to you?"

"They weren't wrong though, were they?" Jo lets out a brittle little laugh, even though none of this is funny. "I mean, it's only fair to let people know what they’re in for. That I'm-"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Kate says harshly. Her leg is trembling so much it's hard to keep the accelerator steady. "What happened to your mum, where you came from, it has nothing to do with who you are."

Jo breathing is rough and shaky and with a glance to her side Kate can see there's tears on her cheeks, and fuck, why is there never a bloody rest stop when you need one.

"I was never meant to exist," she whispers. "That's the truth. That's why the family didn't want me." She clears her throat, clearly trying to pull herself together. "Tommy told everyone that it was mum that made him, and he was the golden child so they believed him."

Kate takes her left hand off the wheel and holds it out, and lets out a long breath when Jo accepts the invitation and squeezes it, her fingers cold and clammy. "What happened to your mum was awful." Kate tries to keep her voice steady, but it's so hard. All she wants is to look Jo in the eyes, to tell her that she's perfect, that nothing is wrong with her. "She didn't deserve what happened, but neither did you. None of it was your fault."

Their hands release; Kate needs to change lane, but she keeps an eye on Jo who's covered her face in her hands and seems to be breathing deeply, like she's trying to calm down. "Do you need to stop?" she asks. There's a rest stop coming up just before the border, they've passed a couple of signs for it now.

Jo shakes her head. "We're almost there now." Her voice is a little wet, but her breathing is steadier. "Sorry."

"Don't say sorry" Kate shakes her head. "Not for this."

"You see now, though, don't you?" Jo's smiling, but it's a fake, brittle smile, false and wide like she's wearing a mask, pushing the grief from her face in an instant. "Why it was better that we didn't..." She rolls her hand. "You dodged a bullet."

A cold, hard ball of lead seems to form in Kate's stomach. "Wait, what?"

"Come on, Kate." Jo's voice is deliberately calm now, matter of fact. "I'm a mess. My life's a mess. You wouldn't really have wanted-"

And then, Kate's phone rings. She swears, but the moment is broken; Jo is hunched in on herself, looking back out of the window, and Kate has to answer, pressing the button above her with excessive vigour. "Fleming!" she snaps. She's never cursed Steve's timing more.

***

The room's been swept by the Scottish police but Kate still goes over it again, checking the phone and the lights in particular for signs of bugs as Jo feels down the sides of the bedside tables and pulls them out to inspect them from the back. Jo hasn't told her family where they're staying but it's better safe than sorry.

Kate's desperate to continue their conversation from the car, but they're not alone. Chloe, dressed like she's from housekeeping, arrives two minutes after they do with towels and the gaffer on the phone, and Kate is caught up in a flurry of activity and briefings and listening to what they've dug up on Darren.

She keeps an eye on Jo, who's very quiet, listening to everything carefully but otherwise keeping out of it. She's pale, and Kate wonders whether it's the stress of the op, or their chat in the car, that has her looking so down. She longs to be alone with her, to finally get things out in the open, but it seems there's little chance of that happening. Eventually, after they've all scoffed down fish and chips, Kate chucks them all out, telling them Jo needs her rest before tomorrow. Steve gives her a look that she chooses to ignore, slamming the door in his face with probably too much satisfaction.

Jo's disappeared into the bathroom, and Kate paces anxiously. What Jo said in the car is like a weight on her chest. On the one hand, she's angry, furious, that Jo didn't even give her the chance. None of this would have changed the way Kate feels and she's almost offended that Jo didn't know that.

And then there's the more rational side of her, the side that's always ached for Jo's I-am-an-island attitude, who suspects that there's a part of Jo, the part she glimpsed in the car today, that maybe doesn't know, that maybe genuinely believes that this would have put Kate off.

Jo emerges from the bathroom, in a tshirt and long pyjama bottoms, and it's so soft on her that Kate wants to scoop her up and hold her tight.

"Everyone gone?" she asks, settling onto her bed.

Kate nods, wondering how to say this. Tact and subtly has never really been her thing. "Jo-"

"Let's not." Jo's voice is cold and distant. "Let's just focus on tomorrow, ok?"

Defeated, Kate nods. She's right, really. They shouldn't let personal stuff distract them; too much is at risk here. "I'll brush my teeth," she says quietly. By the time she comes out, Jo's turned her light off and has turned away from her, and Kate slips into her bed and lies staring at the dark ceiling, wishing she could reach out across the room and take Jo's hand.

***
She sleeps badly that night, head full of everything that might go wrong tomorrow, and of what Jo said in the car. It's not the time, and Kate knows it, knows that this is going to have to wait. She's never been as desperate to end a bloody case.

Jo looks like she hasn't slept much better; she has deep circles under her eyes. "Christ," she says when she looks in the mirror. "That's going to take a gallon of concealer."

Kate bites back the urge to tell her that she still looks beautiful and instead tries to persuade Jo to eat one of the pastries Steve drops off, but Jo's gone very white and Kate worries she might be sick. "Hey, come on," she says softly, crouching in front of her. "You're going to be fine."

Jo breathes out through her nose. "I haven't seen any of them in twenty five years." She shakes her head. "I don't know why I feel like this, why it even matters to me."

"It's natural to be nervous." God knows Kate can't imagine what she's going through. "But I'll be right there with you, ok? I won't leave you alone."

Their conversation from yesterday hangs between them, and Kate longs to say something, but they have so little time. But it seems to be enough; Jo pulls up her shoulders and nods, and doesn’t look quite so much like she might throw up. "Thanks, Kate."

To avoid saying something stupid, something about the way Kate's stomach twists every time she looks at Jo, she steps into the shower to move things along, and when she gets out, she's pleased to see Jo has managed half a pastry and some coffee, and there's some colour back in her cheeks.

Jo looks up when she sees her come back in, and then her cheeks go a little pink as they both realise at once that Kate is in just a towel. Kate quickly grabs the dressing gown and slips it on, but she can't stop herself from glancing at Jo's flushed cheeks, and the way she steals a glance at Kate and then goes even redder when she's been caught.

It feels, suddenly, like they're back in MIT, like they're friends again who flirt and look at each other too long, except Kate knows now that Jo was attracted to her. Maybe still is, if her reaction this morning is anything to go by.

Then again, that was never the problem between them.

She wishes the day was over so they can finally, finally have a long-overdue conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Jo as she brushes her hair, remembering how soft that hair feels between her fingers. And then Jo takes a small white box out of her toiletry bag and pops out a small blue pill. Kate freezes.

As she swallows, Jo looks up and meets her worried look in the mirror. "Anti-depressant," she says softly. "Nothing to worry about."

Kate begs to differ. "Are you sure you're ok?" A hot surge of protectiveness wells up in her. "If you're not up to this-"

"I'm fine," Jo says, starting to sound somewhat impatient, and it's that tone, the one that Kate is very familiar with from her time in MIT, that is more reassuring than her actual words. "Really." Jo softens her tone. "I've been on them for months, it's not because of this."

"Ok."

Jo gets up, and there's a small smile smile on her face now. "Stop worrying about me."

"I don't think that's going to happen." It slips out before she can stop it, and hangs there between them. Well. She can't take it back, and honestly, she's bloody tired of pretending like she doesn't care about Jo anymore.

Jo looks startled, like she wasn't expecting that at all, her eyes round and surprised.

"We'd better get a move on," Kate says quickly, breaking eye contact, and Jo nods.

"I'm going to..." She trails off, pointing towards the shower, and Kate turns to her outfit. She needs to focus, to get her head in the game. God knows what Steve would say if he could see her like this. She slips into her suit: navy with skinny trousers and a long blazer, to hide the concealed firearm she'll be carrying.

She's playing with the holster, trying to conceal the bulge of the gun as best possible when Jo comes out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a silky shift that leaves very little to the imagination. Kate looks away but she can feel her cheeks heating up. She needs to get a grip.

Then she looks up again, and sees Jo staring at her. "What?"

Jo bites her lip. "I like your suit," she mumbles, and hurries round the corner to get her dress.

Kate's stomach lurches. There's this stupid, ridiculous hope welling up in her, that they don't have time for, that she shouldn't be considering less than fifteen minutes before they have to go.

Jo comes back around the corner, dress on and hair up, avoiding looking at Kate. She's looking a bit peaky again, like the reality of what she's doing is finally dawning on her. Before she can stop to reconsider, Kate steps up to her and softly puts her hand on her arm. Jo jumps, her eyes wide as she looks at Kate.

"You are nothing like them," Kate says firmly. "Look at what you're doing, how brave you are."

"I'm scared," Jo says, and for the first time, Kate feels like she's looking at her friend again, like there's not months of not speaking and one terrible argument separating them.

"I know." Kate looks right back at her, trying to be reassuring. "But you're doing it anyway." And then, because she actually cannot help herself, she adds. "I'm proud of you."

Jo's bottom lip wobbles for a second, before she closes her eyes and visibly pulls herself together. "I'm ready," she says.

***
Kate's never been to a Scottish wedding before, and Jo spends a good portion of the run up to the ceremony grinning at the way Kate winces every time another man with hairy legs in a kilt walks by.

"Wait until they've been drinking and start showing you what's underneath," she jokes, and Kate tries very hard to ban that image from her head.

She's heard from Steve that they're in position at the reception venue, and there is a small team observing the chapel as well, but they're pretty sure Darren wouldn't be bold enough to make contact here. Still, Kate keeps one hand close to her gun, just in case.

Jo's tense too. Kate can tell every time she recognises someone because she digs her nails into her palm, and eventually Kate can't take it anymore and grabs Jo's hand with her free one. "You're ok," she whispers, and it seems to help.

She doesn’t see Darren until the ceremony has actually started, when Jo squeezes her hand hard and jerks her head a little. Kate looks round as subtly as she can. Darren, thankfully not in a kilt, is at the back, surrounded by guys Kate recognises from the Operation Goldfinch briefing files.

Jo’s knee starts bobbing up and down, and Kate pulls their joined hands down to her leg. “Relax,” she says quietly, squeezing her fingers. They can’t have Darren noticing how jittery she is.

Except when she touches Jo and whispers in her ear, Jo visibly shudders, and Kate can tell immediately it’s not from nerves. She recognises that flush on Jo’s neck, and she quickly leans back before she does something very stupid, like run her hand up the inside of Jo's thigh. She shakes her head; this is ridiculous. It's been months apart. How can they still be this drawn to each other?

The rest of the ceremony is a blur. Kate's not really listening, but trying to keep an eye on their surroundings. They keep their hands linked despite really not needing to, and Jo doesn’t let go when they walk out and follow the crowd down the lane to the venue.

“He’s watching,” Jo mumbles out of the corner of her eye, pretending to stumble into Kate with her heels so she can speak quietly to her.

Kate nods. Two of his guys are moving closer to them and she pretends not to see them, but still puts herself between them and Jo by letting go of her hand and slipping her arm around her waist instead.

“You’re doing great,” Kate says softly.

“Yeah, not throwing up is a real achievement,” Jo responds, and Kate rolls her eyes fondly.

“I see you still can’t take a compliment.”

Jo ducks her head, but leans into her, and although it’s probably just to maintain their cover, it makes Kate’s heart lurch how right it feels to be pressed against her like this.

And then, just before they reach the door, Jo looks right up at her, with her big brown eyes, and says “I really missed you, you know.” Then she hurries ahead inside, leaving Kate to scramble after her.

And fuck. What is Kate supposed to do with that?

***

The dinner goes reasonably smoothly. They’re sat at a table with some of the groom’s friends, no one Jo’s related to or who knows her from back when, remarkably sensitive of the bride really, and Kate feels Jo slowly relaxing next to her. Kate's seat allows her to keep an eye on the top table, where Darren is now sat down from the bride, and knowing where he is allows her to relax a fraction.

It helps to break the ice that the whole table get a good laugh out of Kate’s horror at the haggis. “It’s mainly oats, I promise,” Jo laughs, watching Kate’s apprehensive expression. Kate is not a fan, but she would gladly eat a thousand sheep stomachs to see Jo smiling at her like that again, and she’s really bloody glad that Steve only has audio of this, because she would literally never hear the end of it if he could see the way she can't keep her eyes off Jo for more than a few seconds.

Darren’s guys watch them throughout dinner, and so they’re careful to act normal. They don’t check their phones or go to the bathroom, nothing that might seem suspicious, and Kate’s makes sure to keep her jacket sitting in such a way that the bulge of her weapon is concealed.

And then, after desert, Kirsty comes to their table, and bends down between them.

“Jo,” she smiles, and gives her a hug. “It’s been so long.”

The tightness around Jo's eyes and mouth is back, but she plays along, and Kate knows that she can only tell Jo's tense because she’s spent an abnormally long amount of time watching her and getting to know her every mannerism. “Kirsty! Congratulations. Thank you so much for having us.” She turns to Kate. “This is my partner,” she says, and although Kate knows, rationally, it’s all an act, it makes her feel ten feet tall.

“Lovely to meet you," she says. "Congratulations!”

“Kate’s never been this far north,” Jo jokes. “I think she was expecting blue face paint and a pipe band.”

“I talked Seamus out of the pipe band,” Kirsty jokes back, “but the face paint’s coming later.”

Jo laughs genuinely then, and Kate realises with a pang that if it weren’t for their family, Kirsty and Jo might have been real friends.

And then she sees something out of the corner of her eye; Darren and two of his guys getting up and moving to a door at the back of the room. “Hey, Jo,” Kirsty says, and Kate realises this is it. “Some of the family wanted to say hi.”

Jo nods. “That would be great.”

Kate makes to get up too, and Kirsty winces. “Would it be ok if I just borrowed her for ten? They haven’t seen her in a long time.”

It’s expected but it still worries Kate. She turns to Jo, widening her eyes. You don’t have to do this, she tries to say.

And then Jo leans forward and presses the briefest of kisses on her mouth. Kate's heart races, and she knows it's not just the adrenaline. “Wait for me?” she says lightly, but her eyes are dark and determined.

“Of course,” Kate replies, squeezing her hand. “Of course I will.”

***
The next few hours are a blur of activity; of Kate waiting in the bathroom, anxiously listening to Jo and her meeting in one ear and the feed from the three teams and Steve in her other, as they wait for the signal; of Jo masterfully playing Darren, pretending to feel like she's owed something by the family for being abandoned as a child; of Darren suggesting she could be useful and handing her an envelope of cash; of the AFOs storming in and starting to make arrests.

That's when the carnage starts, of course. They were expecting that some of the guests would be in on it but Kate's not anticipating to have to tackle the best man when he makes a run for it or having to help arrest half the ceilidh band when they try to abscond through the kitchen.

It's a mess; Police Scotland have to call in reinforcements and while they're pretty good at letting Central police participate in questioning they're also adamant that this is their crime scene, and Hastings clearly isn't used to having to take orders from someone else.

Kate's itching to see Jo, but she's busy having her first account taken, and Kate knows that's vital. Still, by the time she's waiting outside with Steve as the last of the guests are cleared to go, she's got half a mind to go in there and see what the hell is taking so long.

And then Steve shifts his weight a little, looking over her shoulder. "Mate," he says, and Kate turns to see Jo behind her, a blanket around her shoulders, smiling tentatively. "I'll just be over....somewhere else," Steve mumbles, but Kate hardly hears him.

"Hi," Jo says, looking up from under her lashes.

"Alright?" Kate asks lamely.

Chuckling, Jo looks around at the police cars and the blue lights and the ambulance. "Somehow I don't think I'll be getting any more invites to family events in the near future."

Kate laughs. "I think you're better off that way."

Jo pulls the blanket closer around herself. "Gutted I didn't get to teach you to ceilidh dance. Was looking forward to the Gay Gordons."

"The what now?" Kate asks.

"Never mind." Jo looks down at her feet, and Kate's heart suddenly starts thumping again. "Is it true you tackled the best man trying to escape through the toilet window?"

Kate shudders. "Please don't remind me. Turns out I do now know what happens under the kilt".

Jo wrinkles her nose.

Kate tilts her head. "Is it true that you punched one of Darren's guys?" When Steve told her that, she'd felt almost ridiculously proud.

Jo holds up her right hand; the knuckles are red and swollen, and there's dried blood on two of them. "It was more instinct than anything. The AFOs came in and the guy grabbed me, I think he wanted a hostage, and I just swung at him."

"Nice one. Heard you broke his nose," Kate smirks, trying not to sound too delighted by that, but the way Jo grins at her, she can tell she's unsuccessful.

Then Jo's grin fades into something softer. "Look, Kate, I just wanted to say thank you. I couldn't have done this without knowing you were there with me."

"Yeah you could." Kate's absolutely sure of that. "You were amazing today."

Jo glances at her, then back down at her hands. She's nervous, and somehow that makes Kate feel slightly better. "It felt like something I had to do. For mum. For me."

"And we got them." Kate reaches out and puts a hand on her forearm, over the scratchy police blanket. "You got them. What you proved today is that it doesn't matter what you're born into. What matters is what you do with it."

Jo swallows hard. "I'm really sorry I pushed you away." She looks up then, right at Kate, and her dark eyes glitter in the light from the car park. "I genuinely thought I was doing the best thing for you."

Kate takes a deep breath. "I know." And she does, now. "It still hurt though." For a while, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get over it.

Jo nods. "I know. I'm so sorry." Her eyes are wide and Kate can't stop looking at the way the street lights reflect little gold specks in them. "If it makes you feel any better, it hurt me too." She clears her throat. "I really did like you a lot. That's why I wanted to spare you my mess. I just didn't quite realise just how much I liked you until you were gone."

"Jo..." She's not sure what she wants to say. How to say it. The last couple of days, it's felt like maybe there's still something there, something that can be saved, but she doesn't want to push her. It's been a hard few days and hitting on her right when she's just had her only remaining family arrested is probably bad form.

And then something crosses Jo's face, something hard and determined. "I know I've screwed this up massively, but is there a chance that if I asked you, you'd maybe want to go to dinner with me some time?" she asks, and although her tone is entirely DCI Davidson, Kate detects the slightest hint of nerves at the end of her question.

Kate looks her over, in her scratchy blanket over her fancy dress, with her bloody knuckles and her hopeful eyes, and has never loved her more. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that there's about fifty people in this car park, one of whom is Steve who is not so subtly watching them. She slides her hand up Jo's cheek and watches her eyes flutter closed, and then she leans down as Jo leans up and the kiss is soft, and chaste, and yet it seeps into every crack of her like a warm fire on a cold day.

"Is that a yes?" Jo breathes against her lips when they part, heads still close together.

Kate smiles. "How about you ask me and find out?"

Chapter Text

part v

Central Registrar Office - Notice of Marriage

Joanne Davidson, 22 April 1979 and Katherine Laura Fleming, 3 November 1985

The first time, it’s a joke, just something that slips out without thinking.

She’s in a terrible mood that night. She was supposed to get away at seven and instead she’s still stuck at her desk at nine, starving and impatient and her head is pounding, and this is the third time this week she’s had to cancel on Jo and she fucking misses her.

But then when she finally gets to her flat, Jo’s waiting in her car outside, and she’s got beef stew from her slow cooker in a Tupperware box that she heats up for Kate, and passes her two paracetamol and listens to her bitch about the DCC. And after, she sits Kate down on the bed, gently tugs off her clothes and folds them for her, and then goes down on her so slowly and tenderly that by the time Kate comes it’s like every part of her body tenses and relaxes.

“Jesus Christ,” Kate gasps when she finally stops shaking, barely able to feel her legs. “Marry me.”

Jo laughs, her eyes bright and happy. “Like that would you? Me in a wee apron, cooking you dinner?”

Kate tugs her close, and although it’s been a month now, when Jo snuggles close and leans her cheek against Kate’s shoulder it still sparks a sharp happiness in her that she didn’t know she was capable of.

“Well you did cook me dinner tonight,” Kate points out.

“Don’t get used to it,” Jo laughs, despite the fact that more often than not she does make Kate dinner when they meet up. Then she raises her head. “So, are you tired or....”

She quirks her eyebrow, and although Kate is shattered, especially after what Jo just did to her, she’s never too tired for this, and with a grin she pushes Jo back against the pillow and watches her eyes flutter closed.

***

Knowing what she does now, Kate’s trying to be better at letting Jo set the pace. She knows that this is the first serious relationship Jo’s ever let herself fall into, the only one where the person she’s with knows anything about her past.

That’s not something Kate takes lightly, even if it’s sometimes hard. Kate’s not overly emotional as a rule, but when she feels something she says it. Jo’s not like that; her feelings are in a vault, and it can sometimes take days for them to work themselves to the surface.

But she’s trying, Kate knows she is. She’s still going to therapy as well, every Tuesday, and Kate usually goes to the gym with Steve that day so she doesn’t spend all night resisting the urge to call her and ask if she got on ok. She needs to let Jo share in her own time.

But then, about a month and a half after Operation Goldfinch, Jo calls her at lunchtime on a Tuesday and asks if she can pick her up from therapy that evening. “My car’s in for its MOT,” she says, and Kate quickly scribbles down the address. She knows Jo could get a taxi easily, but the fact she’s asked, that she’d rather Kate pick her up, makes her feel stupidly funny inside.

She avoids making eye contact with Steve when she slips on her coat bang on six thirty and mumbles something about having pulled a muscle during leg day and taking a break from the gym, and makes sure she’s outside the address in good time.

Her eagerness to see Jo is dampened somewhat, however, when Jo comes out of building, pale and with red rimmed eyes, looking small and defeated.

“Are you alright?” Kate asks, reaching for her shoulder.

Jo closes her eyes at the contact, like she’s drawing strength from it. “Yes. Just tired.”

Kate’s not convinced. “Did something happen?”

Jo shakes her head. “Honestly, it’s nothing.”

It’s not, but Kate can’t force her to talk no matter how much she might wish she could, so she sighs and starts the car, hoping that if she stays quiet Jo might feel comfortable enough to say something.

Kate’s just about to get to the roundabout that leads to the exit towards Jo’s when Jo says hesitantly “Can I come to yours?”

Warmth floods Kate’s stomach. Because yes, maybe Jo isn’t ready to talk about it yet, but she still wants Kate, wants to be close to her, and that’s what matters in the end. “Course you can.” She switches lane and starts indicating right instead.

They’re quiet for a minute. Then: “I was talking about us, today,” Jo says softly.

Kate grips the steering wheel hard. She’s not sure what to make of that, of the fact that Jo’s clearly been crying after having spoken to her therapist about them. She tries not to jump straight to awful conclusions but her voice still shakes a little when she says “You were?”

“I have to tell you the truth about something,” Jo says softly, and Kate’s stomach goes cold. “I haven’t really known how to say this, but I need to tell you.”

“You can tell me anything,” Kate manages, even though her heart is in her throat. She’s relieved to be turning into her street; she’s not sure how she’s going to be able to focus on the road during this conversation.

“I know.” Jo looks at her as they park up. Neither of them make an attempt to get out of the car. “I want to tell you about what happened a few months ago, when I got signed off.”

This is not what Kate was expecting. She’d, to her embarrassment, immediately jumped to the conclusion that Jo wanted to break up with her, and her heart still pounds even as she turns to look at Jo, holding out her hand which Jo clutches without hesitation. “Tell me,” she encourages softly.

Jo’s lip trembles but she breathes in deeply, holding back the emotion. “I thought I could handle it. Being just friends with you.” She looks down at her lap. “I knew from the first day I met you that you weren’t like anyone else I’d ever liked but I didn’t think it would be a problem, I was never going to see you again.” She looks up then, a small smile on her face. “And then you were standing in my office door and for the briefest moment I caught myself thinking ‘this is meant to be’.”

Kate stares at her. They haven’t really spoken about this, about how they started, since they got back from Scotland.

“But then I remembered why I stay away from relationships. Especially with people I like.” She shakes her head. “I tried to stay away from you but I couldn’t. And then I told myself, what’s the harm in being her friend? Just friends, nothing more.”

Kate feels like she can hardly breathe. She can feel Jo’s hand shaking in her own and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

“I knew you were attracted to me and I thought... I felt so close to you that day and I was so lonely and I had never felt like that about anyone.” Jo closes her eyes, breathing in deeply, steadying her shaky breath. “I gave in. I thought I could handle it, just one night, then go back to being friends.” She looks at Kate again, and her eyes are wet. “I was an idiot.”

Kate feels her own throat tightening. “Jo...”

“Please.” Jo is so quiet she has to strain to hear her. “I have to say this. When I came in that Monday and found out you’d accepted that secondment, I felt like someone had tilted everything. I couldn’t focus, I couldn't do anything. I had to go home.” Tears are rolling down her cheeks thick and fast now. “That was when I realised that I’d been so stupid. I thought I could separate it, being your friend and being in love with you. And then in one swoop I ruined it both.”

Kate forgets how to breathe for a second. “You...you...”

“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t keep anything down.” She laughs a little but it’s humourless. “I went to the doctor and he said I had depression. Put me on the pills. But even after they kicked in, after I started being able to get up again, there was just this hole in me, constantly. I told myself you were better off without me but that didn’t make it hurt less.”

“Jo.” Kate feels her own cheeks are wet but she doesn’t care. Her chest aches.

“I know I hurt you so much. I know I’m not an easy person to be with.” Jo’s voice shakes with tears now. “But I need you to know that I always, always wanted you.”

Kate turns then, releasing herself from her seatbelt and tugging Jo towards her, and to her relief Jo clings to her, her face against Kate’s neck. “Thank you for telling me.” It hurts, to think of Jo like that, alone and unable to even get up. Kate wishes she had been there, could have helped her.

But there’s another part of her, the part that’s guiltily been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Scotland, that is horribly, pitifully relieved that her feelings weren’t all one sided.

“I’m so scared I’m going to mess this up,” Jo chokes out softly. “And my therapist just keeps saying that I need to talk to you but I just don’t know how.”

Kate pulls back a little, so she can see Jo’s face. “Sweetheart, you just did.” Her heart aches, with relief and with empathy, because honestly she’s scared too, but knowing that Jo wants this, it makes her feel like she can take on anything. “We’re going to be just fine.”

***

After that, it gets easier. Kate starts to allow herself to plan into the future, to buy them gig tickets for several months in advance, to dream about going away somewhere sunny with Jo in the summer and watch her freckles grow darker over her nose and arms.

And she knows Jo feels similarly, now. She’s stills scared, Kate knows she is, but she also wants this, wants them. The proof comes in the second time it happens, on a wet and grey Thursday afternoon.

Steve is driving, and when they get to the crime scene, a lay-by on a country road, forensics are already all over, and a team in dark suits is taking statements and coming in and out of the tent at the perimeter.

“They’ll never let us in there,” Kate groans. Their first lead in months on this one, the body is suspected of being that of the ex girlfriend of a police officer accused of abducting her but without a body there was no proof.

To her surprise, Steve grins. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Kate squints out through the rain and then her stomach jumps a bit, because there in her rain coat over her suit is Jo, hair up and clearly in charge.

“Normally I’m the one who has to pull the strings to get the info,” Steve grins. “But I’ll leave this one to you.” He leans forward. “Hey, is she wearing your shirt?”

“Fuck off,” Kate replies, because Jo is, in fact, wearing her shirt, but she gets enough ribbing from Steve as it is and doesn’t need to add more fuel to the fire.

The mud squelches under her boots as she walks towards to piece of woodland that’s been cordoned off. As she approaches the cordon, Lomax steps towards her. “What can we do for you, Ma’am?” he smirks.

“We suspect this body to be linked to an AC12 investigation,” Kate says with as much authority as she can muster. “We need access to the scene.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Lomax says, not sounding sorry at all. “I can’t do that.”

This is expected, but it still makes Kate want to role her eyes. “I need to speak to the SIO please.”

Lomax’s smirk widens as he nods and trudges towards Jo, who has noticed Kate and is already heading towards them.

As Lomax passes Jo, Kate distinctly hears him say “Your wife wants a word,” in response to which Jo slaps him with her clipboard.

She’d known that Chris and Jo have gotten closer since his promotion to DI and she’s glad, Jo needs friends and Lomax is perfect for that.

But Kate hadn’t known how much Jo had shared, so she’s a little thrown by the fact that he, and the rest of the MIT team judging by the smirks on their faces, knows about them.

“DI Fleming,” Jo says sharply, like five hours ago she wasn’t pinned up against the inside of Kate’s front door, gasping half heartedly that she was going to be late while riding Kate’s fingers to a desperate orgasm. “I understand you want access to my crime scene.”

“That’s correct, Ma’am.” She emphasises the ‘ma’am’ like she sometimes does in bed when Jo’s being particularly forceful with her instructions. Jo’s mouth twitches. “We believe this relates to one of AC12’s open investigations.”

Jo glances around at all the people pretending not to listen. “I can’t let you onto my scene, DI Fleming. Too much contamination already with all this rain.”

It’s fair enough but it’s still frustrating. She knows it’s not Jo’s fault but she still does her best to look annoyed; best not to fuel the gossip too much.

Jo steps forward and lowers her voice. “I’ll have someone email you the preliminary findings later, ok?”

Kate smiles then. She misses working with Jo, but she wouldn’t give up what they have for anything. “Thanks." She lowers her voice. "You coming round later?”

Jo’s face falls as she glances around the scene again. “I might be in late. I don’t want to keep you up.” She sounds gutted.

Kate wasn’t going to do this now, here, but Jo’s crestfallen face makes the decision for her. “Here,” she says, pulling her house key off her key ring. “I have a spare at the office. Let yourself in, ok?”

Jo’s expression doesn’t change but she swallows hard. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” And she is, especially when she sees the soft, pleased smile on Jo’s face as she pockets the key. “I want you to come by anytime.”

“Ok.” Jo smiles again, and then she sees her visibly shutter up again, go back into work mode, and knows the moment is over. “Someone will be in touch, DI Fleming.”

Kate nods, and gives a sarcastic little wave at Lomax. She can almost feel Jo’s eyes on her as she walks to the car and she already knows that no matter how late it is she’ll be awake, waiting to hear Jo let herself in.

Steve is smirking when she gets back in. “Don’t,” she says firmly but she can’t hold in a smile. “Don’t even start.”

***

Kate sees a real turning point in Jo when the CPS make the decision to agree immunity with Darren, instead of pursuing a prosecution against him.

Kate is absolutely furious. She knows they’ll get good intel out of him but she’s so sick and tired of these assholes getting away with stuff because they happen to be the ones stupid enough to get caught first.

But a weight seems to drop off Jo when she realises she won’t have to give evidence, that her family history won’t be broadcast for all the world to hear. The night they find out for sure is the first night Jo says I love you without Kate saying it first. Her eyes are soft when she says it, clear for the first time in weeks of worry and tension, and they end up having sex on the couch so enthusiastically that for the first time in fifteen years Kate completely forgets Nottingham Forest are playing that night and doesn’t remember until Steve gloats about the score the next day. Kate finds she doesn’t care, not when Jo’s scratches down her back tingle every time her shirt moves. Life is good.

***

Over the months, Kate begins to notice that when Jo has something serious she wants to discuss, she finds it easier in the afterglow, when they’re both curled up together in the darkness, breathless and sweaty. It’s like Kate has to take down her barriers first, before whatever it is Jo wants to say can get out.

And for the last couple of days, she can tell that’s something’s been on Jo’s mind. Kate can always tell, by her furrowed brow and the way she chews her bottom lip, but she doesn’t push. Jo responds better to patience.

But on Friday night, when it’s clear Jo’s still struggling to put whatever it is into words, Kate takes matters into her own hands. She takes Jo to bed nice and early so they have plenty of time, and then works her up, ever so gently, right to the edge before pulling back. Then she slips her middle finger inside Jo’s wetness, slow and steady, and slowly builds her up again, thumb on her clit just right until she’s almost there, then stops. By the third time, Jo’s so wet the sheets below them are soaked, and she’s so desperate for it Kate’s worried she might rip a hole in the covers where she’s clutching them.

She knows Jo can’t come without at least some stimulation to her clit, so Kate makes sure not to touch it, instead fucking her so thoroughly that Jo’s face and chest flush red, and only when Jo’s breathing is high and thready, like she can’t take it anymore, does Kate let her thumb graze Jo’s clit just right, releasing all that tension in an orgasm that seems to just go on and on.

Perfect. Just what she needed. Pleased with herself, Kate lies down beside Jo and throws her arm around her.

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Jo says after a view minutes, her voice still raspy. “You think if you make me come hard enough I’ll tell you all my secrets.”

Busted. Kate kisses her shoulder sheepishly. She sometimes forgets that while she might know Jo really well, Jo knows her too. Better than Mark had, better maybe even than Steve does.

“Is it working?” she asks, gently stroking the outside of Jo’s thighs.

Jo hums contentedly. She’s more relaxed than Kate has seen her in a few days and it never stops making her glow that she can do this for Jo, pull the tension out of her this way.

“Actually, there is something,” Jo says after a minute, pulling her lip between her teeth.

Kate props herself up, giving Jo her undivided attention.

“Have you noticed I haven’t been to my flat in ages?” Jo asks, her voice a little hesitant.

“No,” Kate says honestly.

Jo’s face falls.

Realising what she’s said, Kate quickly scrambles to explain. “I mean, honestly, I kind of forgot about your place.” She feels her cheeks go pink. “I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “We never seem to go to yours, do we?”

They always seem to end up at Kate’s; it’s closer to both their works, and now that Josh officially knows about them, Jo comes round on nights he’s here as well. Kate’s started taking their dry cleaning in together and buying the fancy jam Jo likes, and she’s honestly not sure how many clothes Jo even still has at her own place.

Jo’s face relaxes a little. “Kate,” she says, in a voice like she’s breaking something hard to her. “I think I might live here.”

Huh. Kate looks past Jo to where Jo’s kindle sits on her nightstand, then behind it to the door where Jo’s dressing gown hangs next to Kate’s own. Earlier tonight, she texted Jo asking her to pick up milk on the way home. Home, where they live together.

“I think you might be right,” she replies, in the same mock-serious tone Jo used.

Jo’s eyes crinkle as she smiles. Kate knows she’s biased, but in these unguarded moments when Jo’s content and freshly-fucked and smiles at her like this, she’s sure no one more beautiful has ever existed in the world.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jo says, and Kate realises from her slightly nervous tone that they’re getting to the meat of it now, “that I might sell my flat.”

Oh. Kate frowns. “Sure, of course. No point paying a mortgage for a place you’re never in!” Plus Kate knows what council tax band that place is in and for a place Jo’s in maybe once every two months that’s a lot of money.

Jo is quiet for a minute and Kate senses there’s more to come. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me selling it,” she says slowly, like she’s considering each word carefully. “You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.” She says the last bit like she’s joking but Kate knows she’s not really.

“I think it’s pretty clear by now that the last thing I want is to get rid of you,” Kate says honestly. Jo flushes, looking pleased, and although Kate knows that Jo knows that she loves her, she’s learned how important it is to say that. It’s one important lesson she learned from her relationship with Mark: some things can’t be said implicitly. Sometimes the person you’re with needs to hear what they mean to you. “I love you,” she tells Jo, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Jo reaches out and touches Kate’s face gently. “I’ve always kept a place,” she tells her, her voice wobbling a little. “Whenever I’ve been with anyone, even if she asked me to ‘move in’, I always kept my own place. I knew it wouldn’t last.”

Kate suddenly has a lump in her throat as she realises what Jo’s trying to say. “And now you want to sell it?”

“Now I want to sell it,” Jo nods, and its all Kate can do to pull her close and hold on tight.

***

The third time, it's not really a joke anymore, not really. Hastings says it with a grin, but Kate knows for a fact that he means every word.

They're out for dinner: her and Jo, Steve and Chloe, and Hastings. They're celebrating Chloe's promotion to sergeant, and when Chloe invited Kate she had specifically mentioned bringing Jo.

Jo had taken some persuading; she's not keen on big groups and she said it sounded like a 'team thing', but when Kate said that Chloe made a point of inviting her, Jo had given in, looking pleased.

Kate's never been the most popular person; she doesn't have the personality or the patience for lots of friends. But the ones she does have she would die for. She knows she can count on Steve for anything, and the fact that Jo has never had that, never been able to trust anyone like that, makes her ache. And now, when she can, she tries to include Jo in their nights out, in their dinners. She doesn't always say yes, but she says yes more now, and Kate can always tell how pleased Jo is when they get home and Kate can genuinely tell her that they all love her.

Especially Ted, who has taken a particular shine to her after Operation Goldfinch. Which possibly explains why, after dessert, he leans across to Kate and whispers, so loudly that it is clearly audible from the other side of the table given Chloe's reaction, "So when are you going to put a ring on that wee girl's finger, Kate?"

Kate, who has just taken a large sip of white wine, chokes, and Steve gives her a slap on the back. Through her coughing, Kate glances over at Jo, who has gone very still, and her expression is hard to read. Kate wishes they were alone, so she can look right at Jo, because Jo doesn't hide from her anymore when it's just them. But in public, like this, Jo is guarded and private and her face is a mask, and even though Chloe covers for the awkward moment by telling a joke she heard from Amanda in cyber crime, the question hangs over the table until they get their coats an our later and filter to their car.

Jo insisted on driving so Kate could drink, and so Kate has nothing to do but twist at a hangnail on her pinkie and worry about how to start this conversation when they get home. But she's not counted on Jo, and her preference for having important conversations in the car.

"Is that something you want?" she asks out of nowhere, as if they're continuing a conversation. "Get married again?"

Kate wonders how honest to be here. They've never had this chat, oddly enough. They've spoken about buying a house, now that Jo's flat is sold, and about how Jo doesn't think she wants kids, but that she loves Josh, and Kate had confirmed that one was enough. They talked about a dog in the future, when they have their house. Retiring to a cottage on the coast because Jo loves the sea. But Kate doesn't know how Jo feels about marriage, and the way she's worded the question makes her a little apprehensive. She wishes she hadn't had that third glass of wine.

The thing is, and she's embarrassed to admit it, Kate loved being married. She loved the physical reminder that she had somewhere she belonged right there on her finger. Even when things were bad between her and Mark, the ring and that knowledge, that bond, had felt like something physical she could hold onto when she was undercover, or working late. And the idea of having that with Jo, of carrying a piece of her with her wherever she goes, it makes makes her smile despite herself.

Of course she hasn't forgotten, how it ended with Mark. The bitterness of the divorce, the days she swore she would never do this to herself again. But Kate has always been good at lying to herself and if she is honest, in her heart she knows she wants this.

"Yeah," she replies, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'd love to marry you." She notices the way Jo grips the steering wheel harder, and disappointment comes over her sharply. "But I don't need it," she follows up, and that's also true. She would love Jo to be her wife, but it's not a deal breaker. "If that's not something you want, then I'm ok with that too."

Jo doesn't say anything for a minute, her brows furrowed. "I just never pictured myself getting married," Jo says after a minute. "For most of my life that wasn't even an option, and I guess I always thought I'd end up alone anyway so why did it matter?"

Kate reaches out and strokes her thigh gently. Whenever Jo talks like this, about how she always thought she'd be alone forever, Kate longs to go back, meet Jo earlier. Convince her how amazing she is, convince her to take a chance on them. "Like I said," Kate says softly, "I would marry you in a heartbeat if that's what you want. But if not, I'll be ok with that too."

Jo looks at her briefly, and her eyes are full of tears. "You mean that?"

"You know I always say what I mean," Kate replies, smiling too.

"Ok." Jo turns back to the road, pulling into their street. "I'll think about it."

***

I'll think about it of course is not the romantic post almost-proposal declaration that Kate might have hoped for, but it's very Jo. Jo, who processes things endlessly before she does anything about it; Jo who researched toasters for two weeks, preparing actual pro con lists for various products based on online reviews before finally ordering them a new one. So Kate doesn't expect an answer any time soon.

But she can't stop thinking about it, not when Steve keeps bringing it up. "If you want it so badly, you should tell her!" he says, which is rich from a guy who has been into Chloe for months and has yet to do more than ask her to join him and Kate for beers on a Friday every so often.

"I don't want to push her into anything," Kate replies, annoyed. "She's worked so hard to get where she is. I don't want to pressure her into something she isn't ready for."

It doesn't come up between them again for a couple of weeks, and then one night, when Josh is at Mark's and they take advantage of the empty flat to have sex in the shower for so long that Kate's a little woozy from all the steam, that Jo pulls out a leaflet as they snuggle up on the sofa in their dressing gown's and wet hair.

Kate, who feels like she might fall asleep after her two orgasms and the way Jo is stroking her hair, is dismayed when a pamphlet saying Plan for the unthinkable is thrust in her face.

"What's this?" she mumbles, trying not to lose her content sleepiness.

"Got this from HR," Jo says, and something in her tone wakes Kate's brain up from its blissful fog. "It's about death in service benefits."

"Cheery," Kate says sarcastically. Jo isn't one for basking in the afterglow but this is a new low even for her.

"I'm serious, Kate." She has that tone now, the DCI Davidson tone that should not be such a turn on. "This is something we need to consider."

Kate leans her head back in Jo's lap so she can look up at her, raising her eyebrow. "Do we have to consider it right now? I'm half asleep!"

To her dismay, Jo's hand withdraws from her hair, and she ignores Kate's sound of protest. "Did you know that there are some death in service benefits you can only get if you're married?"

Kate sighs. It looks like the prospects of napping in Jo's lap for the duration of that stupid cop show she likes to watch are fading into nothing. "I did, actually. I think there's some sort of law suit going on about that."

"Right." Jo bites her lip. "Which means if one of us dies, the other would have practically nothing!"

Sitting up a little, because looking at Jo from this angle is making her dizzy, Kate opens the pamphlet. "Ok, firstly it's only the spousal pension we miss out on. I've put you as my next of kin along with Josh for the other benefits so you would both get a payment. Secondly, you're a DCI and I'm a DI, so it's not like the other one is going to be starving if god forbid one of us goes. And thirdly, I would quite like to live for a bit longer, preferably with you."

Jo does not look amused at her jokey tone. "Fine. If you're not bothered..." She grabs the pamphlet out of Kate's hand and throws it on the floor, and it's so petty and out of character for someone so neat, that Kate is momentarily speechless.

Then she looks closer at Jo and with dismay realises she's closer to tears. "Jo, sweetie," she says softly, "what's this really about?"

It's a sign of how far they've come, that Kate can see the words 'nothing' in Jo's mind, can almost hear her closing off and the conversation being postponed, and she almost feels her own frustration at it already and then instead, Jo lets out a long breath, a strategy Kate recognises as one of her coping mechanisms for hard conversations from her therapist, and then she reaches out for Kate's hand.

"I've been thinking," she says softly. "And I think I do want it." She looks up at Kate's blank expression and rolls her eyes a little. "To be your wife."

Throat suddenly thick, Kate swallows hard. "Yeah?" she manages to get out. "You're sure? I'm not pressuring you or-"

Jo shakes her head. "I want it. I really do."

Kate pulls her in and kisses her, and when she draws back both their cheeks are a little wet. "Please tell me this isn't just about the pension you'll get when I croak," she jokes so that she doesn't start balling, and laughs when Jo reaches down to pick up the pamphlet before whacking her gently with it, her eyes clear and happy and her face smiling.

***
Kate only manages to watch Jo struggle through one afternoon of getting quotes for wedding venues, flowers and bands and get increasingly more incredulous at the cost before putting an end to it. Jo rants about how this wedding is going to cost more than the deposit she put down on her flat, and how do people afford these things (she is not impressed when Kate mentions that Mark's parents paid for their wedding), and Kate can already see the tension in her face, the slightly cloudy look in her eyes when she gets a headache, and the idea of watching months of this, of having Jo this stressed for no reason, makes the decision easy.

She grabs the notepad from Jo's hand and writes down a list of names, around twenty of them, and hands it back to Jo. "These are the people I need there." She points at the top two, being Jo and herself. "I don't know if you have anyone to add?"

Jo looks over it, and apart from an old friend from training college, she shakes her head. "This is a little sad," Jo says, staring down at the list. "I suppose not having my family cuts things down."

"This is your family." Kate points at the list again. "And mine. Notice how most of my relatives aren't making the cut either."

Jo looks up at her, her eyes soft and hopeful. "So you don't want a big wedding?"

Kate shakes her head. "I've done that. What I want is to be married to you, not spend our house deposit on a day two years down the line."

And so it happens that only three months later they have a date at the registrar, and a table booked at Federico's for after.

In the end, only Josh and Steve and Kate's mum come in with them. Kate wasn't sure how her mum would feel about Jo, after Mark and that disaster, but somehow, Kate's mum has fallen in love with Jo just as much as Josh has, and she sits in a chair in the front row of the small room while they exchange their rings, dabbing at her eyes. Josh insisted on being Jo's best man, so Steve is Kate's, and he's been a good sport so far, bringing tissues for when Kate inevitably starts crying at Jo's quiet, heartfelt vows, and passing Jo one as well when she can hardly get through saying them.

Plus as a wedding gift he got Kate the suit she's wearing made, and with the way Jo has been looking at her since she put it on, she has a feeling she is going to get very, very lucky later. "You're welcome," he grins at her when he sees the way Jo is eyeing her up, and Kate has to shake her head at him again.

Jo, on the other hand, looks so beautiful that Kate almost started crying when she came out of the bedroom earlier. Her strappy white dress is simple, but on Jo's small frame it looks absolutely stunning, hanging just below her knee. She's in heels, something she rarely wears, and Kate tries very hard not to be distracted by the way Jo's calves look as they walk out.

They take pictures on the steps of the registrar's office and then head to the bar, Kate and Jo in their own taxi and the others following behind. Jo turns to look at her, and it's the happiest Kate has ever seen her. "We got married," she smiles, like she can't quite believe it.

"Yeah." Kate's throat feels thick with emotion. She's not always good at saying what she feels, and there's so much in her right now she can't put it into words. But Jo looks at her and Kate knows she knows, and instead they kiss softly until they get to the bar.

Kate's sure, the minute they walk in and see their closest friends and family, that they made the right choice by not having a big wedding. Instead, they sit in the middle of a long table, allowing them to see everyone they love dearest around them. Instead of speeches, they go round the table for toasts, and this time it's Jo who is reduced to tears. Steve, the cheeky shite, goes first, and congratulates Jo on improving Kate's fashion sense, at which Kate promptly flips him off to Josh's outraged gasp. Josh, in turn, has both Kate and Jo crying again when he thanks Jo for making his mum so happy and for being the best step mum he could ask for ("I hope Louise hears that," Kate whispers to Jo). When it comes round to Jo, Kate already knows she isn't going to be able to keep it together, not when Jo's eyes are swimming already.

"To my wife," Jo says, standing up. "Who taught me that someone like me can have something like this."

"To Kate!" goes around the table, and Kate watches her mum dab her eye and Josh turn away as he wipes his face, and the emotional moment isn't broken until Ted loudly blows his nose to general amusement.

Then it's Kate's turn. "To my brave, amazing wife," she starts, and watches Jo's eyes go soft, "who missed me so much she volunteered to bring down the OCG just to go on a date with me!"

"Cheeky so and so," Jo grins, getting up and kissing her, and if they kiss a little too long for a table containing Kate's mum, son and boss, well, it's her bloody wedding after all.

***

It's almost midnight when they get to their room, and true to form, Kate has already slipped off her shoes in the elevator.

The concierge had offered three times to upgrade them to a suite for free, and had been quite baffled when the refused. But now, standing in front of the room, Kate knows they made the right choice.

Jo slips the key card in and swings the door open, and it's almost exactly the same as that night at Eileen's wedding, when Kate let Jo lead her here and change her life.

"I have fond memories of this bed," Jo smiles, turning to Kate. "But I suspect that tonight is going to top them all." She's eyeing Kate's form in the suit again and Kate wonders how she's ever going to make this up to Steve.

"I think you might be right." She reaches for Jo, and that's all it takes, for open mouthed kisses and pulling at each other's clothes. In the end, Kate doesn't even get Jo's dress all the way off, instead sliding her hands up Jo's thighs as she straddles Kate on the sofa where they first kissed, and it takes hardly any time before Jo's coming, wound up from the day and the champagne.

In contrast, Jo takes her time with Kate, carefully taking off each element of the suit and hanging it up almost reverently, kissing the skin she reveals as she goes, but when she comes, Kate feels that same sense of wonder she did the first time in this bed, at this woman who had just fallen into her life and changed it all.

"I'm so happy." Jo whispers it as they slip under the covers, like she can't quite believe she's saying it. "When we first did this I never thought I could ever have this."

Kate feels that lump of emotion that been in her throat all day more keenly than ever. "Do you remember what you said to me, that first night?"

Jo frowns. "That you should sleep with more women because you're very good at it? I retract the first part of that."

Kate laughs. "Noted. But I actually meant something else."

Brow furrowed, Jo shrugs.

"You told me that you were a hard woman to love." Those words stayed have stayed with Kate all these months, trapped in her chest like she's captured them there. "But I want you to know that nothing's ever been easier for me."