Fandom: Crossover The Bill/Ultraviolet.
“Casting a Shadow”

Written: September 2001

Author: Beverly Hills
Pairing: Michael Colefield / DS John Bolton,
Rating: NC17 m/m, angst

Archive: At Britslash Yes please

 Feedback: Yes please to

Summary: Michael Colefield is an ex London policeman and now a member of a secret Vatican sponsored squad dedicated to fighting “Code Vs”, thoroughly modern vampires, who have created a worldwide organisation. He becomes reacquainted with Detective Sergeant John Bolton a hard nosed London cop who is investigating the suspicious death of the daughter of a prominent politician. Colefield and Bolton have to deal with their history and feelings for each other while at the same time navigating the dark and dangerous world of the “Code Vs”.

Disclaimer: Neither the characters or concepts associated with “Ultraviolet” and “The Bill” belongs to me. They remain the sole property of their respective production companies and no infringement of copyright is intended. No financial gain is derived from this story.

Many thanks to my excellent Beta reader and grammar guru Ali, a real inspiration. 


Casting a Shadow


by Beverly Hills


The target moved quickly across the room and tapped out a code on the transport’s keypad. Jets of coolant vapour hissed from the hi-tech casket heralding the immanent emergence of its occupant. From behind a stack of crates Michael Colefield raised his pistol and looked at the attached optical screen.


“Oh Christ,” Michael murmured under his breath as he watched the young woman standing in front of the coffin. Regardless of the fact that she wasn’t a leech she would probably still be eliminated as part of the operation. His policeman’s soul rebelled at the total disregard for the process of law or the value of a human life that seemed central to the Squad’s effective operation.


The stream of vapour had ceased, the digital timer on the units control panel had counted down to zero.


Several things happened at once. As the lid opened with a hiss, a tall male figure appeared next to the young, blond woman. Vaughan Rice crouching next to Michael yelled “go, go, go” into the microphone of his headset at the same time aiming his pistol and blasting a hole in the leech’s chest. Six members of the squad wearing fatigues and balaclavas crashed through the double wooden doors of the workshop space, weapons at the ready.


“Down,” Vaughan screamed, Michael and the other men of the squad dropping immediately. The girl stood staring at the figure next to her, her mouth opened to scream. She didn’t get the chance, the vampire’s body detonated with such force that the girl was blown backwards through the glass of a window and out of the building.


As the smoke and particles cleared Michael raised himself from the floor. Rice was already up gesturing to two of the squad members.


 “You two get downstairs and check her status,” he ordered. “You,” he added nodding to a third man, “get onto clean-up.”

“Well that worked out neatly,” Vaughan observed with the ghost of a grin, fixing Michael with his dark eyes.

“Yea,” Michael said wondering if he would ever allow himself to become that callous.



The ultraviolet light moved slowly over the corpse’s throat.

“No sign at all on the throat of surface tissue damage or sub dermal trauma, quite remarkable really when you consider the state of the rest of the body,” Dr Angie Marsh commented dryly over her shoulder to her superior.


“So we can assume she was uninfected?” Pearse Harman asked, his voice as neutral as if he was inquiring as to the soup of the day at his favourite restaurant.


“Well I still need to do the tests but yes I think we can assume that she was uninfected. Do we know her identity?” she asked pulling the zip closed on the plastic body bag and removing her latex gloves.


Harman took a file from under his arm and handed it to her.

“ Francesca Keevers, twenty years old, student at LSE,” she read aloud then paused a frown appearing on her face. She looked at the priest whose countenance betrayed nothing. She continued, “The youngest child of the Right Honourable Anthony Keevers, Minister for Health.”



Harman paced the length of the meeting room. “The body will be placed in a derelict warehouse in the Sun Hill area. An explosive device will be set”. He stopped and closing his eyes kneaded his temples. Becoming aware of the squad again he continued. “Certain controlled substances have been introduced into the body and will be found scattered around the scene of the explosion, suggesting an illegal drug manufacturing operation.”    


Vaughan Rice looked across the table at Angie’s impassive face. “ Oh dear, the Minister is in for a spot of bother,” he said in what he believed was a peer’s inflections.


Harmon frowned at Vaughan’s attempt at humour. He took a seat at the head of the table, “Yes, it is very unfortunate. I have not made this decision lightly or without consultation. The girl cannot just disappear, the ensuing search would be too great a risk to the security of our operation.”


“Yea, the last thing we want is the Minister of Health finding out that there is a major threat to the public health,” Michael observed flatly.


The three others stared at him with a pained forbearance. Michael had grown used to that look since he had been on probation for reviving his now code V ex-partner. Angie and Harmon seemed undecided but he sensed that Rice was convinced that he would betray them again.    


Harmon closed the file and rose. “Very well, Vaughan. You and Michael oversee the operation. Only get involved if it seems that the police aren’t coming up with the answers we want them to. Angie may I have a word.”


“Of course” Angie replied. She rose giving Michael an ambiguous look as she turned and left the room.



Detective Sergeant John Bolten and Detective Constable Kerri Holmes approached the young uniformed officer. “What have we got Nick?” Bolton asked.


The Constable flipped open his note pad “Drug factory that’s gone up by the looks of it. The Fire boys found a body, from what we can tell it’s an IC one, female, not pretty, looks like she took the full brunt of the blast.” Holding up a plastic evidence bag containing a small battered handbag he said. “According to the ID she’s one Francesca Keevers, student.”


“Right,” Bolton replied taking the bag, examining it and then passing it to Holmes, “Kerri organise the lab work will you and run a PNC on Francesca Keevers, Cheers.” Bolton was already moving towards the warehouse entrance when with a pained expression Kerri replied “Right Sarge.”


As he stepped over the crime scene tape and prepared to enter the guttered warehouse Bolton noticed two men sitting in a dark car a short distance down the street. Flicking open his mobile phone he pressed the speed dial number for the Sun Hill Station. “Polly, John Bolton I want you to run a license check for me.”



“He’s spotted us” Michael observed flatly before taking a sip from his coffee “and he’s running a make on the car right now.”

“How do you know?” Rice asked seemingly unperturbed.

“Because I’m a copper remember, and I know him, he’s good. His name’s John Bolton. Jack and I worked with him on a money laundering case a couple of years ago. He’s not going to be easy to put one over.”


“Well then maybe it would be wise to have a word with his boss.” Vaughan flipped the pages of his note pad. “ Chief Superintendent Brownlow.”


As they pulled away neither of them noticed the car with dark tinted glass windows   parked in the shadow of a factory.



Michael and Vaughan left Chief Superintendent Brownlow’s office and headed for the stairs.


“What do you think?” asked Michael.

“He’s shitting himself, he’ll behave” Vaughan replied, “ You were in the Met. he didn’t get where he is by showing initiative did he.”

The smile died on Michael’s face as John Bolton appeared in front of them coming up the stairs.


Bolton froze when he looked up and saw Michael standing above him.

After several seconds Michael found his voice.

“Hullo John” he said and then could not think of a single thing more to say. When it became apparent that Bolton was not going to reply Vaughan took Michael’s elbow and moved the other man past Bolton and down the stairs.   


As they left the Station Vaughan was still holding Michael’s arm, he stopped and spun the other man around.


“So what is it with you and your old mate, he didn’t exactly looked chuffed to see you. In fact I’ve seen bodies with all the blood sucked out of them that looked better than he did when he clapped eyes on you.” Vaughan’s face was inches from Michael’s his voice low and hard. “Is there something I need to know Michael?”   


Michael turned away pulling his arm from the other man’s grasp. He ran a hand through his dark hair pushing the fringe from his forehead.


“We didn’t see eye to eye about things, the case we were working on, he hates my guts”.



John Bolton’s head was pounding as he moved across the CID office to the windows overlooking the car-park. He could see Michael Colefield and the large, black guy talking and then they walked to a car and got in. Bolton didn’t have to look at the license plate, he new it was the same car he had seen at the crime scene that morning.


As the car drove off he turned from the window and slumped into a chair.


Kerri Holmes entered the office, seeing Bolton she said, “Are you alright Sarge, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?” He looked up at her in time to see Chief Superintendent Brownlow standing behind her.

“John can I see you in my office.”   




Vaughan pulled the car up outside Michael’s house.

“Michael if there’s something else about Bolton I need to know you better tell me now.”


Michael opened the car door “There’s nothing, I told you we disagreed about the case we were working on”.


Vaughan softened his tone “Michael look at me.” Michael settled back in his seat and turned to face his colleague.

“I hope that’s the truth, because as far as the Squads concerned you’re still on probation since the incident on the bridge.”


“Oh Yea, I’d forgotten, thanks for the reminder,” Michael replied grimly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Climbing out of the car he walked to his front door opened it and entered without looking back.


 Vaughan sat looking at the door for a few minutes then took out his phone and dialled. “I think we have a problem.”




Michael poured himself a drink, kicked his shoes off and collapsed onto the leather sofa. Taking a deep sip of the scotch he laid back and closed his eyes. He tried to blank his mind but within seconds he was thinking of the last time he had seen John Bolton.


He saw the pale, golden freckled skin of John’s back as he lay sleeping beside him. He had reached out and traced his finger down the curved ravine formed by the sleeping man’s spine trailing away into the cleft between the firm pale globes of his arse. John had moved in response to Michael’s touch but had remained asleep.


Michael had thought he wanted to stay there that way forever. Their sex had been frantic and hard till they had reached some sort of unidentified moment where tenderness could exist. They had then proceeded with calmer attempts to give one another pleasure mixed with a tentative reassurance. That this hard, driven man could shed his armour and reveal his need to give and receive gentleness had surprised Michael, but his own response had amazed him more. As they lay there he felt tears coming to his eyes and then he had thought of Jack.


Michael found it difficult to recall a time when Jack hadn’t been in his life. When they were young and had both just joined the Met. When they had been assigned as partners to the same squad had been the most contented Michael had ever felt. Even Jack’s many women and the fact that he would never feel about Michael the way that Michael felt about him didn’t matter. Sex didn’t matter, being close did. But now there was John.


Since the three of them had begun working on the money laundering case together and despite the fact that Jack and John couldn’t stand each other, Michael had found himself fascinated by the “hard as nails” detective. In the end Jack was glad to leave all of the liaison with John to Michael and that’s how the two of them came to be sharing a drink at John’s flat after a successful obo.


Michael recalled how John had let his fingers pause on Michael’s hand as he passed him a drink and how he had looked Michael in the eyes for what seemed like hours before moving forward to place his lips on Michael’s.


And then here he was lying next to John and all he could think about was Jack. In a thoughtless panic he got off the bed, dressed and fled the flat.


For the duration of the case he got Jack to work with John as much as possible and when he had to have contact he made sure they were never alone. At first John had given him baffled almost pleading looks but within a few days his face had become a rigid, ivory mask. If Jack had noticed the change between the two men he never commented.



Michael knew he had fucked it all up. Not long after, Jack met Kirsty and later became engaged. Michael liked this attractive young woman and envied Jack the intimacy that they shared, an intimacy he knew he might have had with John Bolton but now never would.   




Michael awoke with a start spilling the drink that had been resting on his chest. The room was dark save for a faint, amber glow from the streetlight shining through the bare living room window.


“Drinking alone Mikey, that’s not a good sign,” a familiar voice said from the doorway.


Michael sprung to his feet toppling the glass to the floor. “What are you doing here?” he said looking around the room to make sure Jack was alone and searching in the gloom for his gun, which was across the room on his jacket lying on a chair.


“Relax Michael, can’t your oldest and dearest friend drop in to see how you are? I told you the last time we met I’d keep in touch,” Jack Beresford said moving towards Michael.    


Michael ran his hand through his hair pushing back the fringe from his eyes. “Jack this won’t do either of us any good, I don’t imagine your new friends are keen on you keeping up with your old friend and I know mine certainly aren’t. Jack I could be being watched” he added quietly “you could be in danger.”


“But not from you Michael” Jack said moving the gun and coat off the chair and sitting down opposite his former partner.


“No Jack, not from me” Michael practically whispered sitting back down onto the sofa.


“It’s alright I made sure the coast was clear before I dropped in. We have you and your colleagues under surveillance much more often than you might imagine. Today for example I understand you ran into an old acquaintance of ours, well an acquaintance of mine I should say, DS Bolton was a bit more than that to you wasn’t he Mike?”


Michael looked up but the chair was empty, Jack was sitting next to him on the sofa.


“What do you mean?” Michael just managed to say.


“Oh good grief Michael surely you didn’t think I was unaware of your little romance and lover’s quarrel with the redoubtable Bolton, you’re not that hard to read. I have to admit I was a bit put out, I was used to having your undivided adulation.”



Michael felt his face flush, his anger rising at Jack’s sarcasm and smug expression. At that moment he hated Jack. Getting to his feet and looking towards where the gun lay he yelled. “Get out Jack and leave me alone.”


“Michael for Christ’s sake. I know how you felt about Bolton so I just thought I’d let you know that my associates have plans for him.”


“What plans”? Michael spat grabbing Jack by his coat. Jack’s slightly mocking expression was replaced by what for him passed as sincere concern.


“Michael you must have realised by now that we are interested in anyone that you are interested in, remember Kirsty?” Jack said taking hold of Michael’s wrists and effortlessly causing him to release his grasp.        


“But I’m not interested in him anymore, he hates me.” Michael said turning away to conceal his pained expression from his former partner.


“Oh Michael, love and hate you know what they say, a double edged blade. Just look at us now.”


Michael looked into the mirror above the mantle, he saw only his own reflection as he had expected, but when he turned back he found he was truly alone. Jack had delivered his message and gone.



John Bolton scanned the photos and reports pinned to the board in front of him.


“There are several gaping holes in all of this that you could drive a fleet of vans through” he said as much to himself as to Kerri Holmes who was seated on the desk next to him.


“I know Sarge, a young girl with no prior history of drugs or anything else found dead, pumped full of speed at the site of a drug factory explosion, apparently there by herself and none of our snouts know anything about the whole operation, it doesn’t hold up” Kerri said.


“Did you get anything from her friends?” he asked.


“Not much, total shock, she was the last person they’d expected to be caught up in anything dodgy, Honours student, close to her family.”




“Nothing definite but a couple of them said she’d dropped hints that she was spending time with someone lately, but no names.”


“There’s something going on here and we’re being kept out of the game. Bronlow more or less told me to wrap up the whole investigation and file it. A Cabinet Minister’s daughter dies in suspicious circumstances and they don’t want to know about it, doesn’t make any kind of sense.”


At that point John’s phone rang.

“Bolton” John answered still studying the board in front of him.

“John it’s Michael I need to talk to you.”

Bolton didn’t respond.


“What can you have to say to me” the detectives voice was flat. Kerri was leafing through papers at her desk.

“John its about the Keever’s case.”

“What about it?”

“Not over the phone, we should meet, can you meet me now?”


“I’m outside your nick now.”


John rose and went to the window, looking down he could see Michael leaning against the now familiar car across the road from the station.


John hung up the phone. Putting on his jacket and heading for the door, without looking back he said “Kerri I’ve got to go out for a while.”


“Sarge, what do you want me to do?” Kerri asked but he was gone. Frowning she went to the window and after a moment saw John Bolton cross the street, speak to a man standing next to a car which they both then got into and drove away.         


“Great” she said with exasperation throwing the files she was holding on her desk.



As Michael nosed the car out into the evening rush hour traffic he was glad he couldn’t take his attention from the road. He was afraid to look at the man sitting next to him.


“You’ve got five minutes.” John said also keeping his gaze fixed on the road ahead.


Michael turned onto the Canley Estate and pulled into a gravel parking area next to a football field. He turned to look at John who was still staring ahead out to where a group of youths were kicking a ball.


“How have you been John?” Michael asked.


He immediately noticed the colour come to the other man’s pale skin and the muscles in his jaw clench.


“What am I doing here Michael, I can’t believe you got me here to see how I am, its not as if that’s mattered to you up till now” John spat out the words.


“Look John I know how you feel about me, about…what happened, I’m sorry you can’t know how sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing, I was confused.” Michael’s voice trailed off.


John turned and grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt pulling him close their faces inches apart. “Didn’t know what you were doing, I bet you and that mate of yours Jack Beresford had a good old laugh about it, fucking the pathetic, love sick, idiot and then dropping him.”


Michael could feel the other man’s breath on his face, the look in his eyes causing him to feel the beginning of fear.


As if John’s energy source has suddenly been switched off he let go of Michael and slumped, he turned and opened the car door.


“Maybe you should just fuck off back to Beresford and leave me alone.” He stepped out of the car slammed the door and began walking back the way they had come.


Michael watched him walking away and then turned, closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. After several minutes he lifted his head and looked out onto the now deserted playing field. It was dusk and the youths had wandered away. Lights were coming on in the buildings surrounding the area.

“Shit!” Michael said and started the car. Leaving the car-park he scanned the road ahead for John Bolton walking back to the Sun Hill station. He wasn’t among the pedestrians Michael had passed by the time he had reached the Police station so he turned the car around and retraced his route hoping that John had gone into a pub or shop on the way back. It was completely dark before he had reached the entrance to the estate.


Pulling over Michael grabbed his phone and dialled the Sun Hill station. “DS Bolton please” he waited to be put through.


“John Bolton’s phone” a woman’s voice answered. “DC Holmes speaking.”


“Can I speak to DS Bolton please?” Michael asked already experiencing a hopeless, gnawing feeling in his gut.


“I’m sorry DS Bolton isn’t here at the moment, he was expected back but must have been held up, maybe I can help you?”


Michael was silent trying to think what he could do.


“Sir, could you give me your name please” DC Holmes brought Michael’s attention back to the phone.


“Colefield, Michael Colefield, please get John to call me as soon as he comes in, its essential he calls me straight away, alright? Straight away.”


“Yes Mr Colefield, does he have your number?” Kerri hung up and dialled John Bolton’s mobile number. His phone was switched off.


Michael drove towards home and then changed direction, heading towards John’s flat. He didn’t know if John still lived there. It didn’t matter he had to check if only to have something to do so he wouldn’t think about what Jack had told him. That the Code Vs were interested in John because of their relationship. Despite his terror he found himself laughing. “What bloody relationship?” Michael said aloud.


He drove the rest of the distance to the flat where he and John Bolton had made love what seemed a lifetime ago.


He parked the car and turned off the engine a smothering blanket of dread settling over him. He looked down at his hand still on the keys. He had only to turn the key and drive away, get his passport head for the airport and go. Go anywhere as long as it was away from the day to day terror he was living, away from the moral torture of never knowing if he was on the right side, away from the coldness and suspicion of the squad and he realised, away from Kirsty, Francis, John and mostly Jack. Anyone that was going to snare him and then twist his heart till all the love and caring was extracted. The temptation passed driven away by Michael’s innate sense of responsibility for others a sense that had only been magnified by his time as a police officer.


Placing his pistol inside his jacket he left the car and walked to the entrance of John’s building. Looking up he counted the floors to where he remembered the flat would be. He was shocked to see a light showing in what should be John’s apartment.


Michael told himself that of course John Bolton might well have moved somewhere else since he had last been here or the other possibility that he hadn’t previously considered, that John was now in a relationship with someone. Perhaps he was getting hysterical for nothing, John could have left him and come straight home and Michael was about to go and knock on the door and likely get a punch in the face for his troubles.


He hoped that the later was the case but knew that it wasn’t likely. Jack’s comments about John were too deliberate not to add up to the threat they implied. If John was by some chance safe for the moment it was Michael’s task to convince him that this wouldn’t last. He was too terrified to consider what he was going to have to do to get John back if the vampires already had him.


He climbed the stairs one hand in his jacket clutching his gun. He arrived at the third floor. John’s front door was at the end of the hallway and Michael could see that it was ajar, a faint light showing through it.


Drawing his pistol he moved towards the door stopping just outside it. He could hear breathing punctuated by soft moans. Code Vs didn’t breath Michael reasoned whoever was inside was human. Using the muzzle of his gun he slowly pushed the door open.


Moving down the short hallway Michael turned the corner to enter what he remembered was the living room.


Michael froze pistol held out in front of him. Of all the scenarios he had imagined confronting he was not prepared for this. Across the room Jack was standing facing him, wearing his customary expensively tailored suit. Jack was staring directly at Michael a smirk on his face. Kneeling in front of him naked, with his face buried in Jack’s crotch, his head moving up and down was John Bolton.


Pushing John’s head harder onto his cock Jack said. “Come in Mike I hope you didn’t mind me starting without you.”      


Michael found his voice “Get away from him Jack.”


Jack pushed John’s head back off his penis and twisted him around so that he was kneeling facing Michael. The policeman’s face was calm his eyes staring blankly, his mouth smeared with saliva. Michael knew that if Jack had bitten him John would be open to the vampire’s influence, but judging by John’s unresponsive gaze there was something else affecting his behaviour.


Michael tried not to see but was acutely aware of Jack’s hard cock thrusting out of his open fly. Jack still smiling ran his hand over the kneeling man’s close cropped, red hair.    


“What have you done to him Jack?”


“I would think that was kind of obvious Mike” Jack said rubbing his hard-on against the side of John’s head.


“What have you given him?” Michael said.


“I’m hurt to hear that you don’t think my charm would be enough to entice the Sergeant, but you’re right I’ve given him an experimental compound developed by our lab, it creates a state of complete compliance. I’m sure you can imagine its useful applications for our organization.”


Michael was speechless as he considered the implications of this development. After a minute he asked “Why Bolton?       


“Now Mike you can’t say I never do anything for you, think of it as an early Christmas present.”


“What the fuck are you talking about?” Michael yelled still holding his gun on Jack.


“Bolton, I knew you wanted him so I got him for you and of course we wanted to field test the new drug. Unfortunately I couldn’t resist trying him out myself, you know me never one to resist a temptation. Why don’t you put the gun away Mike you know you won’t use it.”


Jack was right. Even if Michael could bring himself to empty the cartridge of carbon bullets into Jack the explosion could well kill John. He lowered the gun to his side. Faster than his eye could register it Jack had moved across the room and removed the gun from his hand.



“That’s better, now why don’t you come and enjoy your present” Jack said pushing his still hard cock against Michael’s hip. “John come here and help Michael get comfortable.”


John got to his feet and walked across the room and stood in front of Michael. He reached out and pushed Michael’s jacket back off his shoulders and then proceeded to undo Michael’s shirt.


Jack pulled Michael’s jacket and shirt down his arms and dropped them to the floor. Michael closed his eyes as John pressed his naked body against him


He jumped as he felt John’s lips cover his own, gently at first and then with more insistence, forcing his tongue between Michael’s lips and then spiralling around the soft lining of Michael’s mouth and over the surface of his tongue. Michael could still feel the pressure of Jack’s cock pressing against him. He could feel a hardness growing in his own crotch.


Just as Michael felt he was going to suffocate John removed his mouth.  He gasped in air as he felt John’s mouth close around his right nipple, gently licking it at first and then nipping it with his teeth. He was fully aroused now, his cock straining against the confines of his black jeans.


John moved his attention to the other nipple and then Michael felt John’s tongue sliding over his belly, through the light tracery of black hair down to the waistband of his jeans. His belt buckle was undone and the steel buttons of his fly were ripped open.  He felt the jeans pulled down over his hips to bunch around his thighs.


He fleetingly attempted to focus on the situation he was in but it was impossible with John licking and sucking at his engorged cock through the now straining wet pouch of his white briefs. He now felt hands sliding under the elastic waistband and clasping and kneading his buttocks. Were they John’s hands or Jack’s?


The question broke through the heated imperative of his lust and caused him to open his eyes.


“No” he shouted pushing John backwards sending him sprawling onto the floor. He turned to find himself standing alone.  Jack was gone.


He pulled his jeans up and reached down and fumbled in his jacket for his phone. Deliberately not looking at John he dialled.


 “Vaughan I need backup.”



He had told John to dress before Vaughan had arrived. They had then driven him back to headquarters. After Michael had told Angie about the drug and its effects she had taken blood samples and begun an analysis as well as treating John for the bite.


Harmon had seemed to accept Michael’s explanation that the Code Vs were interested in DS Bolton because of the Keever’s investigation. However Michael sensed that the Jesuit never really accepted anything on face value and that the leader of the squad would be watching him even more closely now.


Vaughan Rice was another matter altogether he was openly suspicious and had questioned Michael as to why he had been at John Bolton’s flat.  Michael had told him that John had called him after seeing him at the Sun Hill station. He was counting on the fact that as part of his treatment for the sake of squad security John would be given something by Angie to blank out all memory of recent events. 


After the debriefing with Harmon, Michael went to the infirmary to check on John. Angie was adjusting the flow of liquid from a drip bag hanging by the bed. She looked up as Michael entered and gave one of her rare half smiles.



Michael moved to the side of the bed and looked down at the unconscious man. “How is he?”


“He’s responding well, I imagine he’ll make a full recovery. The compound that he was given seems to break down naturally over time so for long term compliance the Code Vs would need to be administering regular doses. We’ll know more after the full analysis. Is he a friend of yours?”


Michael was immediately alert “We worked together some time ago, why do you ask?”


“He mentioned your name a few times when he first came in, it sounded like he knew you quite well.” She turned away and made some notes on a chart and then left the room.


How much did Angie know, would she tell the others? Michael didn’t think he could live like this much longer constantly suspicious and constantly under suspicion.


He reached down and gently stroked John’s cheek, he didn’t care if Angie was watching on the monitor. He wouldn’t allow himself to think where they might be now if he had made a different decision with John on his knees in front of him. He leant forward and kissed the sleeping man on the lips and left.



It had been a busy three weeks since the night at John Bolton’s flat. The squad had discovered high-level Code V infiltration of the Ministry of Health and the London School of Economics. The Code V that had been neutralised when Francesca Keevers was killed had been one of her former Professors who had recently been holidaying in Brazil. Anthony Keevers had been found not to have been involved however after the investigation the Prime Minister announced that the Health Minister was retiring to spend more time with his family as a result of his daughter’s tragic death.


The Sun Hill CID had closed the case. DS Bolton had returned to work after recovering from a concussion suffered through a fall in the shower, of which he had no memory.


Harmon was satisfied and the Squad would begin work on fresh investigations.


Michael had moved through the whole business in a state of emotional shut down returning to his home every night and anaesthetising himself with Scotch.   



After the final case meeting Michael left headquarters and found himself driving to John’s flat. He parked the car and walked into the park across the street from the block of flats. Finding a bench away from the glow of the streetlights he sat down and looked up at John’s window. The light was on and Michael could see the occasional blur of a shadow moving past the window.


“So are you going to pay a visit?” Jack’s voice came from behind him.

Michael tensed but didn’t turn around or reach for his gun. Jack was now sitting beside him.


After a minutes silence Michael asked without looking at Jack, his voice sounding tired and flat  “Why did you do it Jack, what was it all for. Your lot have no interest in John Bolton, you could have tested your new drug on anyone?”


“Mike I thought it was what you wanted, you’re so unhappy, so alone.” The uncharacteristic gentleness in Jack’s voice caused Michael to turn.   

Michael’s lips formed a mirthless smile “You have absolutely no idea do you, not a bloody clue?”


Jack a puzzled expression crossing his face said nothing.


“You were all I ever wanted Jack, I loved you, maybe I still do. I could never have been happy with John that way. There was a chance once but I blew it, I hurt him. Do you really think I could be with him when he has no choice in it? I don’t think you understand what love is, its not using someone to get what you want, the way you feed, draining someone and then dropping them.”    


Jack reached up and touched Michael’s face gently “I never dropped you Mike, I want you to be happy. We could be together, we could leave all this behind and go off on our own, we’d have the whole world, forever.”


Michael sat silently for a few minutes; he lent forward and kissed Jack’s lips. He pulled back and stood up “And all I‘d have to give up would be everything I believe in and to become like you? No thanks Jack there are some things that are worse than being alone.” He turned and started walking towards the car. He stopped and turned around.


The bench was empty, the park still save for a gentle breeze moving the branches of the trees and scattering the fallen leaves.


“Goodbye Jack” Michael said softly as he turned and walked into the shadows. 


The End



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