TITLE; -STILL LOOKING FOR ONE, ACTUALLY.

FANDOM; MOSTLY "THE BILL"

AUTHOR; KANDY

RATING; NC-17 (Americanisation is everywhere, for the rest of us, this 18 yrs old and above, THIS IS MATURE ADULT STUFF, I.E., SEX, SEX BETWEEN TWO MEN, AND MEN BEING IN LOVE WITH OTHER MEN, IF YOU CAN’T HACK IT, GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN ...

DISCLAIMER: "THE BILL" AND ITS CHARACTERS BELONG TO THAMES TELEVISION AND WHATEVER OR WHOEVER ... I’M NOT TRYING TO INFRINGE ON THEIR COPYRIGHT, I JUST HAVE A WILDLY OVER-ACTIVE IMAGINATION.

SUMMARY; I WOULD CATEGORISE THIS AS "PRE-SLASH". ORIGINALLY STARTED IN RESPONSE TO Liz’s "sorta challenge", BUT, AS WITH SO MANY THINGS IN LIFE, IT GREW BEYOND ITS RESTRICTIONS, AND QUITE FRANKLY, HAS TAKEN ON ITS OWN, COMPLETELY NEW, DNA STRAND.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The first entry in this series ( series ? who said series ?!!) went out with barely a warning. I want to be sure you know what you’re reading. This story is slash, that is, sex and a loving relationship between two (gorgeous) men.

Nick impatiently slammed the alarm clock and turned over, "Now, where was I ? Oh, yes." He cuddled the pillow to him and settled into it, "About to be ravished by the goblin king ..."

"Whaump," "Whaump", "Rise an’ shine, kid !"

This wasn’t happening.

"Go away !", Nick clutched the pillow tighter.

"Hands off cocks, and get on socks !" the voice outside was getting breezier by the second.

Even in the sanctuary of his own room, Nick still managed to blush to his ears. Throwing pillows and sheets to the side he grabbed his dressing gown and swept open the door.

"Tony ! I’m awake !, I’m functioning ! Enough, with the Marine Core impression !, Okay ?!"

Tony Stamp grinned at the probationer, "We aim to please !"

"Yeah," growled Nick, "Go aim some place else."

"|Tut, tut" smiled Tony, "You have twenty minutes to get to the station, and you’re still in your jim-jams. Monroe will be chuffed to bits."

"Stuff Monroe !" snorted Nick.

Stamp only grinned.

***

"Well ..., Thank God that’s over." Nick sighed deeply and leant against the door until he heard the lock click.

Today was not a good day to be a policeman.

Kathy Marshall was dead.

She was supposed to be doing a charity walk at the weekend. She was supposed to be going to the pub for a quick half after her shift, she was supposed to be alive ...!

Nick sank to the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, - it wasn’t meant to be his fault, but it was.

Unconsciously, Nick rubbed his ribs, still sore from the punch of the toerag they’d been chasing.

***

He and Kathy had split up, chasing their suspects through the myriad of back streets around the docks. His radio was open and he could hear Kathy relaying her position to control.

Nick rounded the corner of a fence, reaching for his own radio, and then there was pain. The guy didn’t even need to swing, Nick ran straight into the punch. He was on the ground. He had no chance to evade. A swift, hard kick to his side, followed by a hard blow on his head and Nick knew nothing more until he opened his eyes to Steve Loxton slapping his face.

"Where’s Kathy ?"

"We were hoping you could tell us." Stamp’s voice was cold.

Nick struggled upright, supported by Loxton’s arm.

"They split up," he stammered, "I took the tall one, Kathy followed the other, She radioed, he was heading for," Nick frowned, trying to remember, "Bishop’s Quay, that’s ..." he looked around, disoriented, "Where is it ? Where am I ?"

Steve Loxton glanced up at Stamp, concerned. Stamp nodded, it was obvious the probationer had no further information for them. The last information Slater had was the same as Marshall had called in, and besides the probationer looked like he’d taken a pounding.

Stamp gestured to Loxton. Steve helped Nick fully to his feet.

"We’ll keep looking." said Stamp. He nodded towards Slater, "Get him checked over."

"C’mon, Nick, let’s get you outta here."

"But, Kathy !" Nick protested.

"We’ll find her." Steve promised.

***

Yeah, they’d found her alright. Floating in the Thames. Blow to the head, rendering her unconscious, could have been a blunt instrument, could have been the side of the boat if she’d missed her footing, no proof, one way or the other.

Nick pulled himself tighter. It should have been him ! Why wasn’t it him ?!

"Rat-at-at !"

Nick jerked as he felt the door rattle under the knock.

"Who is it ?"

"Loxton."

Nick took a deep breath and rose to his feet. Slowly he opened the door.

They stood for a moment, regarding each other.

"What’s the matter, Steve ?." said Nick, his voice dripping with self-loathing, "Never seen a murderer in uniform before ?"

"You’re no murderer, Nick." declared Loxton.

Nick snorted. "Yeah, right."

Steve’s eyes narrowed. "Quit being so melodramatic." Loxton stepped forward purposefully, forcing Slater back into the room. Steve deliberately shut and locked the door behind him.

"Marshall is dead," he ignored Nick’s sharp intake of breath. "Jones is in custody, facing charges of conspiracy; namely aiding and abetting a known criminal to escape to a non-extradition country."

"And Kathy ?," interrupted Nick.

"There’s nothing," sighed Steve. "It could have happened exactly as Jones said it did. She came onto his boat at high speed, chasing "some other geezer", slipped on the wet deck and went over board."

"And he didn’t try to catch her ?"

"He says he tried."

"That’ll be right." Nick sank onto the bed, his head in his hands.

Steve settled down beside him and draped an arm around his shoulders. Gently he pulled Nick close.

"It’ll be okay," he soothed, "Everything will be alright."

***

Slater couldn’t stand it. Another human being was dead, - because of him ! He didn’t want to be comforted. Roughly, he pushed Steve away. But Steve refused to go.

Loxton simply tightened his grip. "Let it out, Nick, let it all go."

And, eventually, Slater did. At first just hitching breaths, then long, whooping wails. He clutched at Loxton as if drowning, " My fault, my fault !" The sobs wracked his body.

Through it all Steve managed to retain a grip on Nick, patting his hair, smoothing his back, trying desperately to offer comfort through touch alone.

Of all people, Steve knew that this could have been anyone of the relief, why did it have to be Nick Slater ? Barely out of Henley, the Police Academy, hell, barely out of college.

He lightly stroked Nick’s spine. Nick was apparently oblivious to his ministrations, consumed with guilt, all he could think of was the officer he had failed.

"You didn’t fail her."

Nick jerked upright. For a brief second as he looked at Steve Loxton all he thought he saw was understanding, then his own interpretation superseded it.

"How can you say that ?"

"Because, it’s true. Circumstances outwith your control, Nick. I know, the whole relief knows that, a) you wouldn’t leave your partner unless you had to and b) shit happens."

Nick blinked. "Christ, I hope you didn’t pay anyone for those pearls of wisdom."

Steve shrugged. "They were a bargain." He reached out and again caught Slater’s shoulders, pulling the shorter man until Nick rested against his chest. Carefully, he stroked the dark hair.

"Relax," murmured Steve, "God only knows what’ll happen next."

***

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