My Reason

Dennis was stunned, bewildered and confused. And worse still it was obvious that his father, sat opposite him across the small table, quietly delighted in knowing as much. Dennis kept his back straight and his lips thin, wishing that the writhing of his stomach would settle and he could stop making himself so obvious. How was it that Dennis Rickman was a man that had only survived this long on his ability to lie - but he couldn't seem to lie to Den?

Maybe it was that he didn't want to. Maybe it was that he needed to let him know that there was nothing that was going make him let go of Sharon. Nothing in the world. Not his softly spoken words, designed to unsettle him. Not these heaving sighs, designed only to make him flinch with guilt. And though his mouth was dry of the words to even begin to make Den see, there was nothing that could make Dennis contemplate leaving Sharon anywhere that he could not be too. Because it was with her, and not with his father as he had hoped so much when he was young, that he knew he belonged.

And as much as he had longed for it, Dennis knew that, now especially, his father was never to accept him, never even caring to know of or recognise his existence. All Dennis was to be known for now was messing with Den's precious Princess, but as long as Sharon could believe in what he felt for her, Dennis dared to claim the moral high ground.

His nerves had begun to writhe the moment Den had strode so steadily into the Vic, having come from the house and saying God knows what to Sharon. Dennis' stomach had dropped uneasily at the mere contemplation, but beneath the sheen of vodka, he could still taste her kiss on his lips and hear her soft words ringing in his ears. "I love you, and nothing and no-one is going to change that - not even my dad."

Not even my dad.

Sharon had spoken those words, Sharon who had longed for Den to walk back into her life, to forgive her for her last bitter words, to hold her and protect her like she might still have been his little girl, had somehow found the strength to believe in Dennis - tell him that he was the one. No matter what Den had tried to say. Dennis would not doubt her. Or himself. As long as he still had her, he'd be OK.

So he and Den had sat, never-empty glasses in front of them and Den had been the one to do all the talking. Dennis had taken it all in, still and quiet, only repeating that he loved Sharon and despite the shock of it to all those around, he intended to carry on loving her - it hadn't been a plan and despite what Den thought now, he'd didn't have designs to ever hurt Vicki, Sharon and maybe even Den himself.

The worst thing was that Den had remained so still, his eyes so sharp, his voice so low. No explosion of anger - oh, Dennis could have dealt with that so much more easily. But it didn't come. He knew that the calm was designed to make him break, it was a clever stance, but he didn't want to let it work. He wanted to get up, escape the beady looks from all those on this Square failing to appear interested in their G&T's and stilted conversations about the weather and where they intended to take their holidays this year. After all, Sharon & Dennis' relationship was still very much hot gossip, especially now that Den was back to disapprove. This time, this piece did not become old news overnight as everything else might have done - there seemed to be a lot of mileage left yet. But their voices remained so low, even the likes of Mo Harris did not pick up a word that passed between reluctant father and son.

"You don't have to accept it." Dennis informed Den stiffly, taking a sip of his rather tepid tasting drink. "But Sharon an' me ain't looking for your blessing."

Den nodded. "Just as well - cos you're never gonna get it."

Dennis just lifted his chin defiantly, wordlessly beckoning the rest of Den's words.

"You oughta try looking at it from my point of view boy."

"Why? I ain't interested."

"So I see. And neither's Sharon right now. Got her well trained haven't ya?"

"She's not a puppy Den."

"I beg to differ. Right now son, that's exactly what she is. Do you think you make her happy?"

"I know I do." Dennis returned immediately, quite proud of how the words had been ready, no flickerings of doubt within.

"No, no. You've gotta listen properly. Do you think you make her happy?"

His stony eyes glittered coldly and it happened. Dennis admitted his weakness, his inability to be one step ahead of his father.

"What d'you mean?"

Den smirked, glad of this unwitting revealation. "Well, to be blunt Dennis, black and white... my daughter's found love with a man, you say..."

"Yeah..."

"And Sharon... well Sharon thinks that man's you..."

"Thinks." Dennis scoffed, rolling his eyes and sweeping up his glass again to drain it. "It is. It's me and her Den... that's it."

"Alright. So you love her? Want to spend your life with her? Share in everything?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

Den's smile was tight and cruel as he pointedly raised his eyebrow and pressed; "Secrets? Lies?"

The door swang open, distracting Dennis' attention and he hated that he did not know if the sight of Sharon & Vicki spilling into the bar was welcome at this moment or not. He watched as Sharon gaze found himself and Den, evidently looking far from the picture of cosy in the corner. He inwardly winced at how painful the large breath she released from her chest appeared to be. 

Vicki, too would never have admitted her fear, her unease - in fact Sharon and Dennis were the last two people in the world she would have chosen to voice anything to anymore, but there was nothing she could do to stop her siblings being able to read her obviousness in this way - was ashen, a frightful sweat glistening across her pale face as she followed Sharon's gaze, her palm shivering as Sharon blindly forced a five pound note into it and nudged her towards the bar. 

Dennis bit into the cushion of his lip as he clawed them back, glancing anxiously around the pub, just to take his eyes from Sharon when he was well aware hers were not going to leave him through nothing but fear, and possibly relief too that there was yet to be a brawl going on between the men in her life. His next breath was a lot more shallow. He knew Den's game, it was unmistakable - and seemingly a lot more enjoyable on Den's part now that he had seen his Princess made up their audience. But the trouble was, Dennis had no idea how to play. His stomach was writhing so much and so tight inside, he felt sick, as if the roof had caved in and the walls were leaping in, intent on crushing him.

Bloody hell Rickman, will you calm down?

Bluffing. He's bluffing.

"Out with it Den." he hissed, his hand wrapped so tight around his smeared glass, his knuckles were white and he was in mind of shattering the glass with the pressure, his gaze continually flickering anxiously back to Sharon, who had decided against coming towards them and shrinking back a step, her hand still upon the door handle. She dared to smile and Dennis loved her for her attempt, but he could not be settled. There was not a breath in his body that trusted this man, however much he might once have wanted to.

But with Den's words, he was reminded that once at least, he had been that foolish. Because Den turned slowly, glanced at Sharon, which seemed to take her aback. Then Den faced his son again, leant in and whispered, his smile still very much in place; "She has absolutely no idea who you really are does she Dennis? Who you are.... the things you've done-" The smile widened. "But I do, don't I? So... I'm giving you a chance here boy, to save yourself and live your life with your family."

But Dennis' eyes were still upon Sharon's anxious face. And though he despised the unease it was obvious these moments were causing her, he could not look at her and see his sister as Vicki and now Den were demanding. He saw the woman he loved with everything he had within him. He saw the woman that had defied everything she had ever known to love him just as much, just as fiercely. How could they ever be anything less?

It seemed Den was the man that knew exactly how. And Dennis had privately been fearing as much for far too long.

"What if I refuse?"

Den nodded, spreading his palms out on the smooth surface of the small table and appeared to spend a moment admiring his knuckles. And he gave out the smallest, quietest, cruellest whisper of laughter.

"One day Dennis. And that's me feeling generous. One day for you to finish with Sharon, for you to do the sensible thing and realise that all this is wrong, to give her her life back, give Vicki her sister back."

"Or what?"

"Oh, I think you know what son. Either you put an end to this sick little game, or I will. I'll go to the Old Bill and tell 'em all about what 'appened to poor old Jack."

Dennis reeled in repulsion, because he could read the promise, the determination in the old man's face. And he hated him; a pure, unadulterated loathing beating painfully in his tightened chest. He would never let the thought occur that he shivered too in fear. Den Watts was not about to get the better of him - or Sharon.

Slowly, he rose. "Good luck with that one Den - after all, it's thanks to Jack they've still got you on file as a dead man."

Den shrugged, giving out a small protruding sigh. It was of course, entirely up to the boy whether or not he saw himself as beaten. He only needed to know that he most definitely was.

Vicki turned back from the bar, with a drink in each hand, just in time to witness Dennis stepping up to Sharon, with her at last allowing so freedom in the ridges of her spine and stretching up to brush his lips, defying every busybody with bulging eyes and held breath as she kissed him, leaving him with little more than the taste of her relief that he had returned to her unscathed.

"What are you doing here?" he murmured, rubbing the pads of his thumbs across her knuckles as held her hands in his, amazed by their look, their warmth.

"I was going crazy over there." she confessed in a whisper. "I had to know you were OK."

"Well I am."

"Right OK. Well, I'll- go get you a drink then, I bet you could use one..."

Drained, Dennis was not about to disagree, but as Sharon moved around him, he turned too and realised Den had risen too, and was stood beside Vicki at the bar. The waves of nausea returned with such an intensity, Dennis wasn't entirely sure he was still upright. The threat... it was there, he knew it. And despite appearances, he was not blasé - he was actually afraid. He knew it'd make Den's day to know as much. But it was not about self-preservation for Dennis - it was about Sharon, the idea of losing her... ever. "Sharon, no. I'll-"

"Stay there." she finished firmly, squeezing his hand before she released it and pointedly stood beside her father, leaning a little way across the bar and gently requesting a "Vodka, no ice." from Tracey.

"Princess." Den noted with a nod of greeting that Sharon rebuffed just out the corner of her eye, continuing to watch Tracey with unwelcome scrutiny as she prepared the drink. Sharon was apologetic, but oh, just to have something other than her father's meticulous interference to concentrate on.

"Mind games not work with Dennis either then Dad? Gosh, that's such a pity isn't it? Well, I suppose it's just going to be and him from now on then isn't it? Together."

Den raised his glass to his lips. "We'll see."

"You bet we will."

But as Sharon came back, reaching down and squeezing his hand as she placed the glass in front of him, he tremored and shook his head.

"I have to go."

He pushed himself up, edging out of the booth before Sharon could reach him. She got up too, tracking Dennis' uneasy gaze and realising he was looking straight at Den. Nausea made her stomach lurch, but her defiance forced it away. She was not about to let this happen. If there was a breath inside Dennis that wanted to doubt her, she was not gonna let it exist because of her father's malice.

"Dennis..." she said softly, curling her hand around his forearm and drawing his attention.

And his glance, her heart broke.He was trying to be strong, she knew that. He'd walked away from Den and come back to her, but whatever had passed between the two of them had frightened him beyond Sharon's understanding. And however much she wanted to plead with him to open up to her, she knew it was so much more than unwise to force him. Besides, a part of her didn't want to know - she just wanted to keep Dennis close.

She raised her hand and gently stroked his cheek, murmuring; "I love you."

He bit into the cushion of his lip immediately, like he was holding back a sob, but Sharon did not dare to think on that probability either. Why were all these people so determined to cause the two of them so much pain? What exactly was it that they had done wrong?

Without saying a word, Dennis' arms surrounded Sharon and he held her close with the kind of desperation that was known only to her. Her next breath was tight in her chest, but she readily surrendered it, just to know that in this one moment, she could feel his heartbeat against hers and be assured that he was there. Letting her fingertips dance through his messed hair, she spoke against his earlobe, declaring; "We'll be OK darlin', I promise you. Just you and me... we'll be OK."

"Yeah." Dennis returned weakly as he stepped back. "Yeah."

Leaning back into the booth, Sharon picked up her bag and swung it onto her shoulder.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm coming with you aren't I?"

"No!"

Flinching in surprise at the note of panic held in his refusal, Sharon smiled anxiously and enquired; "Well, why not?"

"Because you just can't OK? You can't. I have to do this on my own!"

"Alright." she nodded, lips softening into a smile as she registered his look of relief, gratitude and surprise, mixed so painfully together. "Baby, you don't have to look so surprised. I trust you..."

It was those words that drove Dennis wordlessly from the pub. He was silently choking on the crushing guilt.

Sharon, of course, was not to know this and though she naturally worried for him, she turned back to the rest of the pub with a smile, demanding; "What?"

Eyes dropped to drinks and the buzz of mindless chatter promptly started up again. Sharon dropped her bag back into the booth and swept up Dennis' untouched drink, tilting it to her own lips as she made her way back to the bar. 

Den hunched forward and pulled at his finger, barely looking up as he asked; "Where's laughing boy off then?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you "don't know"?"

"I mean I don't know. He's still his own person, I don't have to keep tabs on his every move."

"Maybe you should start."

"Sorry?" she hissed demandingly.

"Well, you don't know what he's doing do you?"

"Oh, I expect he's picking up a call girl on the corner... dealing crack to the kids on the precinct, stuff like that right Dad? God, you're pathetic."

~*~

Dennis meanwhile, made his way across the Square, straight towards the bookies. This was probably the first time he'd ever walked in here and not placed a bet, but strangely enough, he had more pressing matters weighing down his mind right now. He strode right in, beating away the bead curtain and heading towards the office door. He opened it with a lot more force than was intended and it crashed into the inside wall, which he supposed was one way of announcing his rather desperate arrival.

A rather burly looking man in a dark suit with a fat lip and wide shiny forehead, leapt up from the squashy chair in the corner of the room next to the filing cabinet and adopted a stance that Dennis guessed was supposed to be menancing, but was not passed off very well thanks to his wide shoulders and consequent hunchback. Dennis was almost glad not to know the bloke, but if he knew Andy at all, there wasn't much to know about his new generation of "back-up" because they didn't have two brain cells to rub together.

"Don't strain yourself." Dennis said steadily. "I want to see the organ grinder, not the monkey."

"That's witty that one Dennis." came Andy's voice as the door creaked again and the boss slid in, leafing through the latest book of betting slips. "You should write that one down Casper."

"Boss." Casper returned, with a solemn nod.

"Well go on then." Andy pressed, sinking down into the large chair behind the desk and nodding his head towards the door. "Pens... little thin things kept in pots out there for the punters, they've got ink in them... we intelligent folk write with them."

Dennis was almost amused to see that Casper stood there, stock-still as anything, head held high and took such mocking. There's no way Dennis woulda done, and he knew Andy would have respected him a lot more for biting back. But maybe it was easier to keep dimwits such as this lot living in fear. Actually, right now, Dennis could empathise with that, even if he did have to ward off a dark look that came his way.

"S'alright." Andy assured him. "Dennis here was one of ours."

"Was." Dennis echoed pointedly and Andy nodded in understanding as he waved Casper from the room.

"Close the door behind you!" he called.

Click.

Satisfied, Andy clasped his hands together and leant a little way forward across the desk. "Well, well, well. Daddy's back and you're still in one piece, I am impressed Dennis. How's Sharon?"

"Like you care about Sharon."

"Do you?"

The scowl that met those words showed Andy what a stupid question it was and he accepted that with a defeated smile.

"You know I do."

"Then I do an' all. Is she alright?"

"For now."

Noticing the way Dennis' hands shook as he pressed them against the desk, Andy silently got up and fixed two very large drinks from his trusty hoarde assembled in the small cabinet. He forced the tumbler into Dennis' feverish palm and sat with his hip against the edge of the desk, giving out a despairing sigh and asking; "What's going on Dennis?"

"I'm in for it." he muttered after spending what seemed like an age swirling the liquid round in the glass before he dared to take a sip.

"Well, that much is obvious my friend, you're knocking off your old man's daughter."

And though Dennis instinctively glared up at his friend, he was without the words or the nerve to protest, his every strength and emotion swallowed up in his roaring anxiety. "Not for much longer."

"Eh?" Andy asked, pulling his glass back from his lips mid-tilt, so intense was his confusion. "I thought it was all hearts and flowers with you an' her? Well, not quite, obviously, but I thought you wanted to make a go of it. What's all this been about if-"

"I do, Andy." Dennis cut in. "But I can't. Den's seen to that. And I- I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"

"What's 'e done?"

"Told me I've gotta finish with her." 

He slammed the glass down and Andy took it to refill it, topping up his own too, even though in comparison, he'd managed no more than a sip. 

"What and you're just gonna roll over are ya? I thought you had more bottle than that mate, I mean, how else did all this start up in the first place?"

"He knows Andy."

"Know what?" But as he registered the dangerous look of telling upon Dennis' face, Andy felt the colour drain from his own. "Oh... Oh bloody hell! You are joking?"

"Wish I was." Dennis informed him bitterly, draining his glass again. "This was before I'd read the code of practice for father-son bonding. Turns out when it comes to Den, it's got DON'T BOTHER written in big fat letters."

"Jesus. How the bloody hell did you manage to figure telling Daddykins you did Jack in was gonna endear you Dennis, I mean... have you got a screw loose or summat?"

"Several, I imagine. I'm knocking off my sister after all."

"Oh c'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that. I ain't like that. If Sharon makes you happy then... you should go for it."

"But I can't, can I? Cos if I do, Den's gonna have me up for murder faster than you can say "life imprisonment"."

"Ah. That's how he's playing it is it? That's dirty, even by my standards."

"Just tell me what I'm supposed to do Andy, please." Dennis made no effort to hide the way he was pleading, or how his eyes were shimmering with a mixture of tears and desperation.

"Wow." Andy breathed quietly, rocking his glass in his hands. "Listen Dennis, you covered your tracks right?"

A pain shooting up from the base of his neck and making him wince, Dennis nodded heavily. "Trashed the CCTV tape... binned my clothes... chucked the gun to the bottom of the canal. I'm covered. But that don't change nothing. If Den tells her, she'll believe it and I've lost her. And I can't lose her Andy, I can't. I love her for Christ's sake and I know you understand that much."

Andy threw back a doubtful look, his eyebrow raised, and Dennis regretted he'd have to hurt the only man left willing to understand his situation.

"Kat." he said slowly.

"Below the belt, Rickman." Andy noted, with an accusing thrust of his finger as he took in another hefty sip from his glass.

"I know. I know and I'm sorry. But that's it - that's how I feel about Sharon."

"You love her?"

"Yeah."

"Does she love you?"

The realisation hit Dennis hard, finally understanding the menance, the truth of Den's words.

"She... She loves what I've made her think I am. Whole load of fuckin' lies, but I can't... if she knew... oh God, please Andy, just get me out of here."

"What, just you? No. I'll 'elp ya Dennis, don't get me wrong. But I ain't letting you go anywhere unless Sharon goes with you."

"Oh what?" Dennis spat savagely, eyes narrowed as he tried to force out the cruel reality of his surroundings. "Life on the run when she doesn't know what she's running from? Get real, Andy."

"No, pal." he returned sharply. "You get real. Be the bigger man here. It don't matter what you do, she's gonna find out. Cos if you give in to your bastard father now, then Sharon won't ever leave off. Because you won't be able to make her understand why you left her, when you made such a huge deal of being with her in the first place. She'll want - and I hasten to add - she deserves to know the truth."

"But if I tell her the truth, she'll never forgive me."

Andy nodded slowly, hunching his shoulders. "That's a risk you're gonna have to take. Cos it's either that or you let Den pull the two of you apart. And if you and Sharon mean that much to each other, you'll get through it. OK, so maybe you won't be together anymore, but if you prove to her you've got the guts to tell her the truth, then maybe you won't lose her. If you sit back and let Den wade in there, then... then she's already gone and we both know that ain't what you want. I mean it, I'll help the two of you in any way you want, but you have to tell her."

Dennis slumped back, hating that he inwardly knew that Andy was right. It was through nothing but his own foolish actions that he was here, left without any choices.

"Alright." he sighed miserably, wincing as he straightened his reluctant back. "So I'll tell her. But after that, I want out."

Andy laced his hands together and leant back, calmly studying his friend, everything about him. His words, his tone, the way he was holding himself at that moment, the way his desperation and pain were all too obvious. Andy could readily admit that, after himself, Dennis Rickman was undoubtedly the last person he'd expected to find so ridiculously affected by the poison that was love. But he was, and in having it stolen away so callously, he had been left to feel that there was nothing left for him in the world beyond Sharon's love; the disgust and hatred he was so certain would come at his revealation.

Andy knew exactly what Dennis was asking and he understood exactly why. But Dennis was a friend, one of few men that had tried to understand his complexities without judging him. This was not a road he was prepared to see him go down. But to say as much amounted to forcing him away when he'd had the guts to come out and admit that he wanted help. In some quiet way, Andy respected that.

He leant down and pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk, rifling and placing two items on the desk. A gun and a very large bottle of pills.

"Take your pick. It's alright-" He rattled the bottle. "-they're prescription."

Dennis offered a slight smile that was obviously not meant, then covered his face with his his hands, groaning. "Can't believe I've been reduced to this."

Andy just nudged the gun forward with his knuckles and Dennis froze as it scraped across the table.

"Is it loaded?"

"Course it is." he replied, rolling his eyes. "What use is it to anyone if it ain't?"

"Shut up." Dennis instructed curtly. "Or I'll do it right here."

"Don't think so mate. It's impossible to get this paper anymore."

Dennis forced his laughter out through his nose, afraid otherwise he was about to choke on it. "Get you, all domesticated."

"Yeah well, that's more than you are right now."

"Cheers Andy." he bit back tersely, sighing as he realised his glass was once again empty and this time getting up to refill it himself.

Swivelling in his chair, Andy laid down his offer. "I'll go with you."

"What? To watch me do myself in?"

"That's what you're planning on isn't it?"

Growling in irritation as he felt himself get wound up so painfully on the inside, Dennis whirled round, staring hard into his glass as he swirled the liquid round.

"She won't want me. Not after this. She'll never want me to go near Vicki ever again and Sharon... she's just, never even gonna look at me."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

"What can I do about it? I've got no fucking choice! I ain't just gonna lose her Andy, I'm gonna destroy her. It's alright for you, you've never had to be the one with the gun in your hand, the blood all over your clothes! I set her up that night, Sharon. She's my alibi and she doesn't even know it. How twisted am I? Telling her I love her when she's spending every day covering up for a killer? She can't love someone like that!"

"But she does."

"She won't!" he protested desperately, voice cracking tellingly as the force of his pent-up emotion exploded from the cramped cavity of his chest. "I know what she'll think. She'll think if I can lie about that then I lied about it all - that I don't care, that I never did - that it only ever came down to sex! And I ain't like that - not anymore!"

"S'not me you've gotta convince."

"You think I don't know that?" he raged. "You've got it right though. I would rather be dead. No matter what Sharon thinks of me after this, I'm not letting Den being the one that gets to say they can lock me up and throw away the key." Dennis bowed his head and released several quiet manic-sounding bursts of laughter. "Cos he'll have to find me first won't he? Every... bloody... bit of me!"

A cruel smile of contentment twisted Dennis' lips, shimmering with the sheen of whiskey there. He slammed the glass down and turned away from the office without another word and though Andy's stomach did undoubtedly lurch in fear for the man, he knew there was absolutely no point in trying to call him back. If he was not willing to save himself then he was not about to let others do it.

Sighing heavily, Andy reached over and gathered the gun and pills bottle into his hands, sending them crashing into the drawer as he released them. He knew there was little he could do now but wait and hope that Dennis had been left with the sense to call on him again when he needed help. 

Dennis left the bookies as quickly and as quietly as he had come, which gained him more attention from all of those around; thanks to the speed he went, making no effort to so much as glance at the screens and Dennis Rickman was not known to ignore a race. But he kept on going, almost stumbling backwards as the cool afternoon breeze rushed forward and licked at his feverish skin.

His hand shook as he burrowed it into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, scrolling down through the phone book, spluttering miserably on his next breath as he pressed the Call button and lifted the handset to his ear. And he knew he spluttered on it because of his reluctance to breathe it. Because to breathe it meant he was wishing what he knew was to become nothing less than the worst moment of his existence. And Sharon had been the only one to make that worthwhile in itself. Right now, he despised Den, maybe even Andy for not letting him run from this, but above everything, he hated himself.

As the call connected and the ringing tone gave out, Dennis willed it to last forever. But no-one, not even these higher powers that Dot believed so implicitly in, was prepared to listen to him at that moment. And Dennis berated himself that he thought they might because after all, Dot was a woman that believed in him too, and how horribly misplaced was that faith?

"Hello?"

Just to hear her voice, so damn soft and stupidly caring, Dennis' mouth ran dry. "I...It's me."

"I know darlin'. Are you alright?"

He avoided that question for all he was worth. Which in all honesty, wasn't all that much. "Where are you?"

"The Vic. Warding off the evils."

"You don't have to take that Sharon." he informed her tiredly. "Not for me."

"No I know." she returned gently and Dennis hated that he could just picture the soft smile that was sat upon her lips right now. "But I've worked it out anyway, so it's OK isn't it?"

Dennis' stomach lurched unfavourably. "Worked what out?" he pressed anxiously.
 
"They're all jealous. Even Dad. That's what it is. Cos through all of this, I've still got you haven't I? And they can't make me let you go." She took in one long soft-sounding breath that only served to torture Dennis. 

Guilty tears burnt painfully in his eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to disperse them as he wondered shakily towards the Square. 

"Where d'you want me to be Dennis? Where are you?"

He stopped short of pleading with Sharon to stop, to stop believing in him, loving him in such a way. Because he deserved nothing so daring. He couldn't bear to hear her words and hoped that the way his voice quivered was not obvious.

"Just... walking."

"Well... OK..." she said slowly, taking the information in as it came. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

Dennis was silent for a long while, because it was all he wanted to keep her at such a length and just believe for a while longer that she might still love him. But he knew also that he simply could not say no.

"Yeah." he stammered. "Have you got your keys?"

"You want me to meet you at home?"

"No. Just... come to the club yeah?"

"OK. So I'll... see you in a second yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And Dennis?"

"Mmm?" he coaxed, a painful lump rising in his throat.

"I love you."

He tore the phone from his ear, stabbing blindly at the keypad to end the call to keep her words away. How could she be so sincere? Didn't she realise he was a monster? The guilty tears no longer burnt, they fell, and Dennis could not make them stop. He rammed his phone back into his pocket and found that it hurt to walk. He instead pushed himself out into a desperate run, without knowing why. The last thing he wanted was to know this moment any quicker, but without such speeds, he could feel the tears trickling down his face and this was a sensation he was unfamiliar with and could not stand. He wanted to pretend it was not there.

But all too soon he found himself looking at the club. He shrank back, hiding like the coward he could no longer deny he was, feeling so intensely sick, he had to bite down into his lip to stop himself succumbing to the overwhelming desire to retch. As he watched Sharon draw nearer, sighing gently as she looked around, undoubtedly for him, and open the door, pushing against it to admit herself, Dennis found that the retching pulses tearing through him were now soundless sobs, his vision blurred by tears. He bowed his head and tried desperately to wipe them away, but as he did so, he realised that Sharon had left her keys in the lock.

He took in some extremely deep breaths that made him feel sick and did nothing to calm his tremoring. But still he knew he had no choice but to go forward, slipping into the darkened club and tugging the keys from the door as he force it shut after himself.

"C'mon Dennis." he willed himself viciously, almost welcoming the way the keys cut uncomfortably into his hands as he clasped the jangling bunch. "You're nothing more than a lying, cheating, murdering bastard. You know she's worth more than you. Get on with it."

He tried not to cough on the breath he forced out. His eyes were pretty much closed as he went forward, footsteps pounding on the stairs, until he heard the click of the smooth tiles underfoot. He opened his eyes frightfully, only to be greeted by a totally still bar, even though Sharon was curled up in one of the squashy chairs surrounding a little table. She'd kicked off her shoes, they lay in a messy heap on the floor in front of her. She lazily wiggled her toes, that were apparantly grateful of the freedom of movement. She had her head cocked to the side, resting on her palm, her elbow pressing into the arm of the chair. 

She made no effort to move or speak, or in fact, do anything to recognise Dennis' presence - except smile. Softly, that beautifully innocent kind of smile that to Dennis amounted to a slap in the face. That was what he deserved. 

Slowly, she got up, swinging her legs gently down and padding across the floor. "Hey." she murmured when she reached him, stretching up to brush his mouth.

He didn't deserve her smiles, her kisses, her love. But he just didn't want to let it go.

"You shouldn't do that." he told her sadly. But her smile refused to falter as she looked up at him.

"What, kiss you? What else am I supposed to do darlin' huh?"

"Sharon... don't-"

She drew back, a little stung and Dennis knew in a glance it was beyond his control from here on in. It'd begun.

"I mean, you shouldn't leave your keys in the lock. Anyone could walk in!"

"But they didn't did they... whoever "they" are. You did. And that was the only way I was gonna know it." Obediently, she laid out a palm and let Dennis weigh it down by passing her the keys. She turned and put them on the side. Stepping back into his arms, she lifted her hand, idly caressing his cheek and murmured; "You gonna tell me where you got to?"

Gulping down his unease, he shook his head.

"No, well... OK. Then I'll just... get you a drink... yeah?"

And without waiting for Dennis' preference, she padded round to the other side of the bar and prepared him a large drink anyway, leaving it on the bar in front of him and moving round again to pull herself up onto the stool beside him, leaning over and dropping her hand cautiously against his arm.

"Look at me darlin', please."

It took Dennis a good ten seconds to even turn his head to grant her request, and hearing the way she gasped so frightfully, he immediately wished he hadn't at all. Because with every second that passed, this was only getting harder and all the more painful to so much as contemplate.

"You've been crying."

It was surprisingly easy for Dennis to scoff at her observation without hesitation. "Me? I don't think so."

"Well, I do. Dennis, tell me, what is it?"

"It isn't anything."

Sharon sighed and allowed him a few moments to brood. But she didn't give up. "It's Dad isn't it?"

"No." he growled. "I just told you... it isn't-"

"And you're lying!" she snapped, guilt swamping her immediately as she realised she had unintentionally raised her voice with the anger. "I know what he's like darlin', believe me I know. And if he tried with you half as hard as he did with me then-"

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing that changes anything. I stood my ground, just like you did. He's just gonna have to realise there's nothing that's gonna stop me wanting to be with you."

Dennis blanched his lip. "Do you... D'you mean that? Nothing?"

Sharon reached over and tugged the glass from his hand, lifting it up and setting it down again on her other side, far from Dennis' reach. A smile curving her glossy lips, she scooted closer and assured him in a warm caress of a whisper; "Absolutely nothing."

And though he was still painfully aware it was the last thing he deserved, he did not know how to refuse the comfort in her lips as she pressed them lovingly to his neglected own, her kiss harder and fuller. Dennis could almost taste her sincerity and it was the last thing he wanted to force them away, tell her she was wrong. Because until the truth was out, her emotions, her meanings were for him. That was how she wanted it. 

So, selfishly, he held her as close as he could, savouring her warmth and her kiss, her taste, just willing her to somehow believe what it was he returned. Because he knew that as soon as he stopped kissing her, trying to prove to her that he loved her, he was left only with the option. Shattering her with his truth.

Sharon's hand snaked down Dennis' arm and settled happily in his hand, his fingers locked through hers. Then she straightened up, withholding her kisses as she slid back down to the floor as she pulled Dennis up too, stepping back on the balls of her bare feet to lead him towards the office. But he remained still, sure he understood her; his guilt transforming into reluctance she foolishly believed she could fathom. Smiling gently, she stepped level with him, reaching up and casing his jaw with her palms and kissing him again. He hated that for every moment she worked his mouth, he was weakened, needing to kiss her back because he honestly didn't know if he ever would again.

He knew Sharon. He did. She'd never been anything more than painfully honest, which was more than she could say about Dennis, and he hated himself for that. He hated that he knew what she was asking of him, he hated that he wasn't a strong enough person to refuse her, to save her. Because he was well aware she was bound to hate him, and he... oh God, he loved her so much. And he just needed her to know it.

But still, guilt forced him to murmur weakly against her lips; "Are you sure?"

Sharon gave out the softest laugh, her warm breath dancing across his face. Such fierce love was beating inside her at that moment, she couldn't help but offer another kiss to his lips. "I don't need to be sure... I'm with you."

And for the first time the day as they moved into the privacy of the office, Dennis dared to tell her; "I love you. I mean it, I love you so much."

Caressing his face, Sharon giggled quietly. "So prove it."

Twisting his hip against her, he held her close as she sank back against the sofa, missing the pressure of his body against her, covering her so deliciously, for the mere second they weren't in contact.

Feverish hands moving slowly up and down, down and up, slowly undressed the other, covering every inch of flesh to be exposed in the softest of kisses, barely like a whisper upon skin. With every sensation, Sharon could feel herself falling the tiniest bit harder in love whereas Dennis was fighting to keep the most treacherous of tears from forming in his eyes. Because, as he proved his lack of will and more painfully still, lack of respect for this incredible woman in making love to her, he knew he never would again. And that, was his best excuse and he just hoped she'd know how to forgive him. Because he did not know how would ever forgive himself. But he loved her, that was never going to change.

And holding her in his arms afterwards, he burrowed into her shoulder, kissing the crook of her neck and allowing himself to become so blissfully intoxicated by her sugary scent. She was nestled so contently into him too, her shape molded perfectly around his own, the two of them tangled so innocently together. He didn't want to let her go, how was he supposed to bear it?

Realising Sharon had in fact fallen into the most peaceful looking sleep, Dennis forced himself to climb up and leave her, pulling on his clothes and taking the edge of the throw from the back of the sofa and dropping it over Sharon's naked form. She murmured appreciatively of this shield of warmth and Dennis' stomach tightened frightfully. But thankfully, she did not stir, simply writhing sleepily beneath this cover until she was comfortable.

Dennis couldn't bring his eyes away from her. She was so perfect. The way her hair lay awry against the armrest, the way her smooth lips flickered as she murmured to herself. And he just... didn't know what he had done. In his one last action, it was as though he had stolen her very last shred of dignity. And it was going to be up to him to let her know it. He was evil.

Tearfully, he crouched down, stroking her hair back from her beautiful face. Seeing that she slept soundly on, he bowed his head and kissed her bronzd shoulder, savouring her warmth against his sorrowful lips.

"I'm sorry. It- It was never supposed to be like this. I'm so sorry."

He was shamed as his tears poured down. He leant forward and buried his face in Sharon's hair, kissing her crown before he moved away, welcoming just how very much that hurt.

Gathering a new bottle of vodka from the new stock still not in the fridges and instead piled in their boxes under the bar, and a very large glass, Dennis sniffled back his tears and forced himself to go back into the office. He sat down in the chair behind the desk, tore off the cap from the bottle and tossed it carelessly away. Then he filled the glass right up. What the hell was the point of pouring measures when he was gonna drain the bottle anyway?

But he took such a large sip and it tasted so foul, he began to choke on it. He couldn't seem to reclaim him his breath and he hoped that he might just pass out, maybe even choke to death. It was fitting at the very least and then at least he might break Sharon's heart and still have her think some good of him.

"Mmmm... Dennis?"

Upon hearing Sharon's sleepy address, Dennis found there was nothing to breathe anyway.

"Sorry." he managed, his breaths painfully sharp in his chest as he forced them in. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She smiled weakly and inched over onto her hip, snuggling down beneath the throw. But by now, her eyes were wide open, sparkling and fixed upon Dennis. "What's wrong?"

"Drinking too much." he told her, lifting the brimming glass. He set it down again without raising it to his lips and pushed himself, standing above Sharon as she pulled herself up, her back exposed but straight against the armrest.

She smiled again, this time more in confusion as she looked about the room, but she shook it away and instead raked her hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face. She moved back and Dennis obediently perched on the edge of the sofa cushions.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Just... couldn't remember what I was doing here for a second-" Her lips flickered flirtatiously as she leant forward, her hair tickling Dennis' shoulder as she worked up the slope of his neck, peppering it with kisses. "-but I remember now."

And Dennis flinched, shrugging her away with it. "Sharon, don't- please!"

"Dennis!" she began soothingly, giving him a questioning look as he leapt up again. "It's alright, it's me!"

"I know." he replied, voice cracking and forcing him to stare at the ceiling as he tried in vain to blink his tears back. "And you're just making this so fuckin' hard!"

Confused, Sharon swung her legs to the floor, wrapping the throw all the way around her bare body. She didn't even know what to say. Because she saw now - unmistakably so - that she had been right. Dennis had been crying. Because he was doing so now and he didn't know even how to try and hide it.

He crouched down and stared at her hands as he held them. "I swear to you, I never meant to hurt you, I never wanted-"

"Shhh! No-one's hurt darlin' OK? It's fine. We're fine."

"No." he protested, shaking his head. "No, we're not. You... You think you know me, you think you know the worst things about me and you think you're over them. But you don't know anything!"

"I know all I need to." she said firmly, denouncing the way Dennis began shaking his head all the more furiously, apparantly unable to hear her words. "Yes. Whatever he said to you Dennis, whatever Dad said to you... it doesn't matter. Because I love you..."

"You can't!" he cried desperately, getting up and turning away in a whirl, needing to escape these declarations. "You don't know me Sharon, you don't know the things I've done!"

"I never asked for details."

"But you're gonna have to hear 'em, y'know that? Cos if I don't tell you, he will and then... then he's won! You're gonna spend the rest of your life hating me and he's gonna feed off that! I can't let that happen, you have to know why... I never wanted... I never-"

Sharon's facial muscles twisted unfavourably in confusion as she mulled over his words. "...spend the rest of my life hating you...? Dennis, are you on something? I love you and my dad is the last person in the world that can make me stop!"

"Well, you're gonna have to aren't you?"

"Yeah?" she challenged irritably. "And just how are you gonna make me?"

"Like this." he returned bluntly, sinking down into a crouch again and cupping her face so her gaze would not leave his face. 

She wasn't sure she could have looked away anyway, so full of fright for what she might hear. What in God's name had Den said? Why was there suddenly so much doubt, why was Dennis so panicked?

"I - killed - Jack - Dalton. So now tell me you love me."

There was silence. Sharon couldn't move, or speak. She could barely breathe. And then, her animation returned, as though she'd only just realised that Dennis' hands were still against her face. She writhed childishly to throw him off and he understood her attempt immediately, pushing himself up without a word and leaving the office without so much as a backward glance.

Realising he'd left his drink on the desk, Dennis kicked furiously at the bar and then, forcing in a sharp breath he never really wanted to breathe, went to the other side and fixed himself another drink, knocking it back before the taste even had time to hit his tongue, which in some ways he was grateful for, it was foul tasting stuff anyway. He didn't know why he bothered - it was only force of habit that kept him coming back.

"Tell me you're lying."

Dennis hadn't even heard the creaking of the office door, it was the last thing he had expected to hear Sharon, her voice hoarse with such reluctance, raising any sort of words from behind him. In fact, he was only assured that she had because the glass he held slid from his hand and promptly shattered all over the floor. He sighed, biting into his lip to stop himself cursing as he stared at the mess. Then he lifted his head and found the courage to turn on his heel, taking in the sight of Sharon, her arms folded protectively around herself, her clothes thrown on just to cover the body Dennis was gonna spend the rest of his life trying to forget. It was the smallest comfort to know that however long "the rest of his life" was to be was entirely up to him. At least he still had some control.

"And why would I make something like that up eh?"

Sharon faltered, but she could not remain silent. She couldn't let it seem that she believed him - she'd never believe it. "Because... Because you're scared." she managed weakly. "You're panicking, you're getting cold feet, you're-"

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do.

"I'm telling you the truth." he told her stiffly, crouching down to begin picking up the shards of glass from the floor, reaching up with each one and leaving them on the bartop.

"You... killed Jack?"

"Yes."

"Why... Why would you do that?"

"Guess I was bored that night."

"Dennis!"

But he refused to turn and look at her, wincing instead as one of the smaller, more troublesome shards nicked at his finger. "Ah!"

He almost welcomed to sight of his blood, bubbling up to cover the site of the stinging wound. He admitted defeat however and got up, rifling for tissues behind the till. "I had no choice."

Sharon scoffed. "Oh, well, how many times have I heard that one eh?"

"Your ex left me with no choice! C'mon Sharon, tell me, you ever had someone wave a gun at you, knowing they're gonna have to use it?"

"Who are you talking about?"

He gave her a tight smile as he tossed the scrunched up, bloodied tissues away. "Phil Mitchell."

"He... threatened you?"

A hint of laughter escaped Dennis at Sharon's naive offering. "Not exactly. In fact, I think it was the last thing he wanted to kill me, even if we do adore each other. Cos he knew what it'd do to you and Vicki to lose your... er, brother. Except, he owed Jack a favour, and Jack wasn't into giving people choices." He nodded towards Sharon. "Your dad knows that, don't he eh?"

"I... I don't understand."

Dennis shook his head steadily. "Never expected you to. But the truth is... Jack sent Phil to kill me."

"No. You're lying."

"Nah. Still telling you the truth. He was supposed to kill me. Least that's what he was sent here for, but he just... didn't have the bottle-"

"What, and you did? Oh, you must be so proud!"

Dennis scowled. "Oh shut up, you stupid... do you think I wanted to kill him? You do don't you? You think I wanted to go shouting it from the rooftops, letting The whole Firm know what a big man I was! I was in pieces Sharon, don't you remember that?"

"Of course I do." she snapped back, thrusting her finger accusingly at him as the pieces started to fall horribly into place. "I remember it because you had me there, thinking you were grieving... giving you my symapthy, and I... I felt sorry for you!"

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered should you?"

"I thought you'd lost somebody, somebody that mattered."

"Jack Dalton?" Dennis scoffed, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a crumpled cigarette packet, and lighting up, needing to draw in lungfuls of the comforting poisons. "Matter? I don't think so."

"Well obviously not - you shot him!"

"That's right. And I'd do it again."

Sharon reeled. "How can you stand there and say that?"

"Because it's true. He was scum Sharon, I knew that from the second I met him. I weren't hardly sixteen, he thought he had sussed and yeah, he could play me, but I always knew that one day I'd have to kill him, just to be rid of him! And now I've done it, he's gone and that's it!"

"No!" Sharon whimpered, shaking her head as her tears began to take hold. "No, that's not it! Dennis, these things, they never end. They go on, and on and I can't stand it. How could you do that? How?"

"Cos at the time, I didn't wanna be dead Sharon!"

"At the time?"

"Well, there's nothing anymore is there? This... This is everything Den wanted. And I still haven't got a choice! C'mon Sharon, you really think I wanna be here telling you this?"

"No." she conceded. "No I don't. I think you just wanted to keep on lying to me. Cos hey, as long as you were getting some, why rock the boat?"

Dennis looked up sharply, pulling the smouldering cigarette back from his lips. "You callous bitch."

Sharon shrugged her shoulders. "So what? You've got me beat haven't ya darlin'? Cos what you are tops me each and every time. I... oh God... I was gonna give up everything for you. I thought... what did I think? C'mon Dennis, tell me; what the hell was I thinking?"

"If I knew... I'd tell ya."

"I just... I don't know you at all do I?"

"I guess not. Cos killing someone, it tips the balance. Whatever else I could be, I'll always be that second and this first. But somehow, I've still gotta be a person... normal."

At those words, Sharon stared at the floor and directed her gentle bursts of uncharacteristically cold laughter downwards. "So you start sleeping with your sister. Wow, your logic is incredible Dennis, really."

He closed his eyes, wanted to block out the true malice of her words. Because he knew she was right and he hated himself. "And yet you're probably the only thing in my whole life that I'll never regret."

Sharon gasped doubtfully, the threat of tears evident in the sound she couldn't help but release. "Why are you saying this now? Five minutes ago Dennis, just five fuckin' minutes ago and that might have mattered to me! But you... you just told me that the one person I thought was supposed to love me somehow forgot to mention that he murdered a gangland boss last year!"

Dennis looked guiltily down, the taste of blood swamping his mouth he bit so hard into his lip. "I do love you."

"Liar!" she spat. "How can you say you love anyone after what you've done?"

But he had no words for her, such hatred raging inside of him. He quashed his cigarette against the edge of the bar and began sifting through the shards that littered the bar-top, picking up the most ferocious looking and curling his hand around it and just waiting to feel it slice into his flesh. Sharon had been half-watching him and rushed forward with horror, leaning over and fighting to flatten out his palm.

"What are you doing?"

His facial expression did not change. Sharon wrenched the shard from his determined grasp and set it down, her gaze dropping too. The realisation of what lay in front of almost challenged her balance.

"You set me up..."

"Like I say, had no choice."

"You broke that glass, in the kitchen... I gave the police an alibi! You set me up!"

"I never expected to get pulled Sharon, I never wanted you to have to do that, you have to believe me."

"Why?" she demanded furiously. "Why have I got to believe anything you say ever again?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I see that."

"Good. So glad we've reached some sort of understanding."  

Sharon hurried back to Number 5, barely noticing the people milling around on the Square, just wanting desperately to keep herself to herself, to not be noticed, to not have to say a word to anyone. Because what in the world would she say when nothing in her head was even kind enough to make sense to her at that moment? The swirling breeze had no effect upon her feverish face, it was as if she had not stepped out into the normality of the world at all, even though as she forced the front door shut after herself, her bunch of keys jangling in her hand, everything in her supposed "home" was overly keen to appear normal also.

The TV guide still lay where it had been tossed halfway across the coffee table in disdain the previous night. Dirtied coffee mugs were littered all around the place. Growling in frustration as she threw her things down, Sharon began to gather them all, rushing round the room, not wanting to take in a single detail. Because it seemed now that this whole world was dressed up with the most shattering of lies.

But there was one small thing that refused to escape her notice as she edged around the dining table, wanting to go through the second door to toss the mugs away into the sink with the rest of the unwashed breakfast things from that morning. She shrank back however, hating what it was to have stolen her attention. She slammed the collection of mugs down onto the dining table and did not think about them again, her lips twisting unfavourably as she stepped up to the sideboard and reached out to take a photo frame into her hands.

And she was almost softened, tracing out the image of herself and Dennis, apparantly so happy within one another's company at the Valentine's Ball. Sharon felt like she was looking in on different people. This felt so impossibly long ago, and yet this moment was perhaps the one that had shown her how much she wanted to bring about her tainted romance. Because she knew the truth now. Dennis had loved her, only with his lies. His lies had caressed her skin, his lies had stolen her breath in a kiss and his lies... they had led her to bed, lain her down and made love to her.

Sharon recoiled at the realisation that this had been not fifteen minutes ago. And she felt physically sick.

Tremoring beyond her control, she howled like a wounded animal and hurled the frame across the room, her stomach lurching with satisfaction as she heard it shatter upon contact with the wall. As it hit the floor, Sharon turned away and stormed through to the kitchen, wiping the tears forcefully from her eyes even though they still formed and fell.

Crashing around in the fridge, she took out a new bottle of wine and tore the cork out with her bare hands. She winced, feeling very like she had just suffered a rope burn. But nothing was going to stop Sharon getting what she wanted. Not now. This was the very least she deserved. To get out of her head - if she'd ever been within it in the first place. How had she let this happen?

Sharon filled the glass to the brim, lifted it carefully to her needy lips and steadily drank down the lot, not even pausing for breath. She slammed down the empty glass triumphantly, but regretted the head-rush that imediately came, wincing as she fought to keep herself steady. She lifted her head straight with a flair of determination, leaving the open bottle stood on the side as she rushed up the stairs. 

Pausing outside Dennis' bedroom, Sharon drew in a deep and courageous breath before she reached down to pull down the doorhandle and open the door. When it crept treacherously open, she let out a grunt of anger and kicked forcefully at the door with the toe of her shoe, satisfied only as the door crashed in defeat against the wall, staggering into the room and realising everything here too was striving to appear normal. But it no longer needed to bother. Sharon knew she stood in the hide-out of a murderer. There were a murderer's posters on the wall, a murderer's clothes hanging in the wardrobe - Sharon herself had most probably been the one to put them there!

Oh, she was nothing but a fool, because she could see little besides what she knew of Dennis already. The things all around, they were her lover's things. Everything here screamed Dennis - but now Sharon knew she'd never known who Dennis truly was in the first place. So why could she not stop herself crawling so miserably into her lover's bed? Why did she hide like a child there beneath the heavy duvet, succumbing to her sobs, tearing through her sorely abused body only as she curled up in this falsified darkness, drowning in the scent of her lover left upon his pillows. Did it linger to comfort her, to remind her of his perfectness? Or did it linger to torture her, to remind her how very wrong she was? Because this tantalising scent belonged to a murderer.

So lost to the vicious cycle of thought, Sharon did not hear the twist of a key in the front door, she did not hear Dennis step heavily into the hall? She did not hear him call out to the occupants because... well, he didn't. He tried, but he found his voice failed him. He ducked into the empty lounge. He saw the messed up TV listings. He saw the unlit television screen. Turning around he saw the collection of coffee mugs gathered, and more likely abandoned on the dining table. And then he saw a gap on the sideboard. And he knew immediately what was missing, whirling round in frantic search.

And then he saw it, upside-down, against the wall, on the floor below the window. Carefully, he picked up the frame and the many shattered shards of glass fell out, spilling dejectedly onto the carpet.

"Oh Sharon..." he murmured miserably, tears burning as he turned away and went to the dining table, setting about releasing the photograph. He left that next to the coffee mugs and padded out to the kitchen to slide the frame into the bin. It was then he saw the open bottle of wine, the drained glass stood beside it. And then he knew.

He dropped the frame hastily into the bin and paced back into the hall, pulling himself around the banister to pound up the stairs.

"Sharon!"

He went up and down the landing, going straight to the bathroom and being relieved to find that the door opened with ease because she was not in there. He stared at his sorry reflection in the cabinet mirror and then drew open the door, revealing the many foils of tablets beyond and showing all the ones of the highest strength with the most unpronounciable names into his pockets.

"C'mon Sharon!" he called, heading to her room and beind surprised to find there was no force against the door. "I know you're here!"

But she wasn't.

And at that, Dennis slammed both his fists into the wall and turned to go into his own room, where he supposed he would stew and contemplate how long it would be before he'd crack and take a second shot at a murder - his own.

But as he wrenched the door away from the wall and slammed it so viciously shut, Dennis saw a shuddering from beneath the covers, lain a lot more haphazardly than he remembered across his bed. He reached down and pulled up the edge, and almost flinched in pained surprise.

"Sharon?"

Shuddering she was, and it was obvious why. Sobs she was trying to bite down were tearing through her as she lay there.

"Leave me alone."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm trying to remember Dennis." she murmured tearfully, not so much as moving as she spoke. "Because he was real to me. I'm trying to understand why he'd lie to me. I'm trying to understand how he became you! Now leave me alone!"

Dennis bit forcefully into his damaged lips, keeping back a sigh that felt ready to tear his chest in two. He stepped heavily back, but found that his limbs were stubborn and refused to carry him away from this moment. Because he was gazing so sadly into a devestated face, stained with tears that could not be disguised. And once again, he was in pieces. Because he was still so painfully in love with this broken woman, the woman he had had no choice but to shatter. It was all about choices, this revealation was all about the choices Dennis had never had.

He found that he had not let go of the edge of the duvet, holding it up, scrunched tight in his hand, leaving Sharon shuddering without cover. Careful to keep away from the shape of her tremoring body, he sank down into the mattress, surrendering the duvet only as Sharon went rigid, the last thing on her mind being her escape.

"I'll tell you anything you wanna know." Dennis offered bravely.

Sharon seemed stunned by his sheer nerve, even if this rise had been so timid.

She writhed beneath her heavy warmth and rolled onto her hip so that she faced him, her piercing eyes upon his guilt-stricken face for every moment her head was scooched into the pillow.

"Are you sorry?"

Dennis received her words like a punch in the gut, doubling protectively up, hunched there like a scorned child as he rocked against his knees, staring into his lap. When he next dared to look up, Sharon had pulled herself up into a sitting position, her spine against the headboard, the duvet pulled up to over her mouth. She looked as though she was trying to bury herself in the scent she found upon the material. But her eyes widened in maddened question as she found his upon her and he knew he was once again out of time.

"I'm sorry he was killed. But only because I killed him. I'm sorry I had to do it. I'm sorry for the person that had to find him, but no. I can't tell you I'm sorry he's dead Sharon. Cos I ain't."

"Make you feel good did it?"

"Oh yeah!" he bit back sarcastically. "Delirious darlin', can't ya tell?"

"Don't!" she shrieked warningly. "Don't you dare throw this back on me! Y'know, I'm not even sure you know what you've done!"

Dennis' shrill of mocking laughter bounced from the ceiling as he tilted his head back. "No? Well, I can promise ya, I know. Cos I've got every second of it up here-" He pressed two fingers to his temples. "-and it's crystal clear! But don't worry darlin', it ain't you that needs to be sure of the details is it?"

"Isn't it? So how many other alibis have you got set up Dennis?"

He looked away.

"When... When you broke the glass, when I saw you there in the kitchen... had- had you done it?"

The muscles in his neck tweaked painfully as Dennis shook his head. "No. But I- I knew I had to. I was... clock-watching."

"Biding your time?"

"Yeah, I guess." Then he saw her look of disdain and his protests burnt in his throat. "Look Sharon, this was never a plan OK? I... I didn't even know what I was saying it was all coming out so fast but that was the only thing that made Mitchell down tools. He wouldn't have minded killing me y'know, if he didn't know what I was to you."

"You're nothing to me." she spat bitterly. 

Dennis winced but bowed his head in acceptance. "Not anymore, no; but half an hour ago..."

"Don't you dare mention... I feel sick at myself for letting you..."

"Letting me what Sharon?" he demanded calmly. "Do all the things I've done everytime we've lain in this bed together? C'mon tell me, what are you doing there if that's not what you're trying to hold on to?"

Anger stormed through her every feature but it died away and pure misery overwhelmed her, waterfalls pouring from her eyes. "I can't believe I let you touch me! There's blood on your hands Dennis, there's blood all over 'em?"

His lips curved into the most insincere smile that made Sharon convulse in repulsion as he turned over his palms, innocently scanning them before asking; "Where Sharon? There's nothing here."

"You killed him! You murdered Jack Dalton and then you climbed into my bed and you made me believe-" As her words trailed off, Sharon clamped a hand over her dry mouth, gagging. Thankfully she did not retch, but the words so clear in her mind were so painful to expel she felt faint. "This is why isn't it? This is why you spent all that time... making like you wanted me! But you didn't did you? Not ever - you just wanted a cover up!"

Dennis simply blinked, having no other energy to put into warding her words off. "Do you believe that?" he questioned tiredly.

"I don't know what to believe. I believed you for Christ's sake and where's that gotten me eh?"

"I nearly didn't do it y'know." he said suddenly. "I nearly turned around and came home."

"Well, why didn't you?"

"Because..." he began in a low and dejected whisper. "Jack... he watched everyone. Didn't do much really, he sat back with his malt and made calls, but oh, he had eyes everywhere did Jack. And if he hadn't heard from Mitchell or read anywhere that I was all nailed into my box, or bodybag, he was never particularly fussy, then he'd have traced it back and y'know what I reckon?"

"I don't care." Sharon whimpered, burying her face in the duvet. But Dennis was not deterred.

"He'd have had my head on a platter, but not before he'd made me pay, made me really suffer. He could never have done that, "back in the day" y'know, when he was looking after me. I was good, nice and cold, brutal, always doing what I was told - I'd never felt anything for anyone. But he knew, he knew what having you and Vicki meant to me Sharon, and believe me, he woulda used that. Women weren't nothing to Jack, prizes for the pack. I dunno what he woulda done to you two, but I bet you the lads woulda been grateful for it."

"That's disgusting..."

Dennis gave her a piercing look and declared simply; "That was The Firm. They'll tell ya it's all about loyalty, but it ain't. Cos I've seen it happen, they love tearing up one of their own, it's a proper blood sport. And you know, they'd probably have killed me right in front of ya, no questions asked. It had to be me or him, known that for years. And for your sake, it was him."

"For my sake? Really? Are you sure you didn't just do it so you could have a crack at coming onto me a bit further down the line? I mean, you'd never killed anyone before right? But then that was done and what else was there to do?" She clicked her fingers triumphantly. "I know - I'll sleep with my sister!"

"That ain't who you are." Dennis muttered darkly but Sharon lifted her chin defiantly.

"And this isn't who you are! At least, I never thought it could be. I mean... how did you do it Dennis, how?"

"I had a gun in my hand, I pulled the trigger. End of."

"End of?" she echoed scornfully. "This'll never end, Dennis."

"Well, not now it won't."

"I want to know."

"What?" he demanded in a desperate hiss. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know how you did it."

"Slowly."

Sharon closed her eyes, beginning to gag almost immediately.

"You said you wanted to know."

She was silenced and only the chill of Dennis' recollections filled the room. "I went to The Imperial Rooms and there was... no-one outside his office. And I wondered if he knew I'd be coming. Just me and him it was. And this gun, it weighs a ton in my hand. He knows I can barely hold it. So he's calm as anything. He gets up and puts his coat on, wants to go out with a bitta class I guess. And I'm pressing it into his back to keep him moving, but Jack... he just ambles along. Starts talking, talking like we could be partners, like I want anything to do with anything he's got. He's there, talking like I'm special instead of the guy that's gotta kill him. I made him drive. I gave him directions but the truth was, I didn't know where we were going. My hand's really aching and I'm thinking "Once I pull this trigger... how do I pull it? How many times is it gonna take to kill him... to shut him up?"

"Stop!" Sharon pleaded, regret making her eyes continue to pour this diamonds of devestation. "Please, stop."

But he didn't.

"We were walking through the woods. And I was thinking "Shall I kill him here, now, get it over with? Or shall I make him keep walking just so I don't have to be that person for a bit longer?" Only... Jack got leary. He dares me to do it. I can't. Can't even get my finger to sit against the trigger, let alone pull it and make sure I kill 'im. And he laughs. Right at me. Like I ain't good enough. And he knows how that winds me up and start tryin' to work me, going on about when I was a kid, talking about my mum, but none of it mattered and he knew that. So he started on you. And I weren't havin' that."

Sharon gulped back a violent cough. "Please tell me he's still alive, please..."

Dennis nodded. "He's alive alright. Havin' one last go. I mean, he's gotta. It's just me and him in the middle of nowhere and he's starting to get scared. Of little Dennis Rickman... if he hadn't been so desperate it woulda been funny. But this train comes past, and the lights from it, I could see the sweat pouring down, the fear in his eyes. He's terrified... of me. Starts yelling... telling me that he got shot of Den... and then he told me the truth. That it had never gone his way. And all I could think about was you. Spending all those years, loving Den, feeling so fuckin' guilty, tearing yourself up when he was alive someplace, never caring about either of us. My hand stops shaking and he says; "That's gotta make a difference!" but I said "Nah, it don't." Then I shot him."

"Why? Why didn't you just come home?"

"Because Den was still alive. I used to think Jack was... some sort of God. He kept me back from the grave when I weren't even sixteen. It was like, he had the power to say who lived and who died. But I realised, if he couldn't even make sure Den was dead, he didn't have any power at all. He let me down Sharon! So I killed him!"

"No. I don't believe... you didn't want Dad to be dead. You... You wanted him here as much as I did... you wanted to know him, I know you did!"

"But that ain't what I wanted in that second Sharon. Cos right then, I hated him, and I still do, cos he's the one making me tell you this- I hated him because I was feeling stuff for you I couldn't understand, but if Den was still alive, then it... just wasn't gonna matter to you."

"But it did!" she protested tearfully, pushing her tears roughly away. "Half an hour ago Dennis, you were everything. I thought... I thought you were making love to me and then suddenly you're this... cold-blooded murderer and they can't be both be true. So, I'm begging you please... tell me which one's the lie!"

"Neither." he choked miserably at last, and Sharon prayed it was remorse she could read in his moistened eyes. "Oh God, neither."

But his words could not ring true and Sharon rebuffed them with a doubting shake of her head. "You told me you loved me..."

"And I meant it!"

"Did ya?" she demanded, cocking her head to the side in questioning. "We coulda just been a one-time thing, Dennis. Never anything after that, never anything that mattered. You could have saved me all this. How can you say you love me when you didn't care enough to save me this pain? Cos that's what it is. It's tearing me up on the inside. Because I thought I could trust you... with my life. You made me believe in you... in us. You gonna tell me I still can?"

"Is there any point?" he asked bluntly. Sharon flinched at his tone, a pain stabbing at the place she was positive she was supposed to feel her heart beating. But this had made her numb on the inside. There was nothing. "No." Dennis read of her silence. "No, this is it, this is what he's making me do. I tell you the truth, I let you go..."

"Let me go?" she echoed tearfully, barely breathing. "I thought you were stronger than this."

"Oh, but I am darlin'. Cos killing someone, it takes all the strength you're ever likely to have-"

"Stop it!" she screamed desperately. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!"

"No! You need to know who I really am Sharon, this has to be real..."

"Real? Why did you make me happy, why did you make me think that was real? Why did you do any of that, just to take it away from me?"

"Cos I-" But the words got caught in Dennis' throat as the painful realisation unravelled in his mind. "Cos I never thought I'd have to. Sharon, I swear, I thought we'd be OK."

"OK?" she scoffed, eyes narrowing in suitable contempt. "OK? Oh, that what you reckon is it darlin'?"

He ignored her. "I guess I never reckoned on the old man hating me enough to use it against me... and you."

"He... He knew?"

"My fault. I told him. Didn't know any better. S'pose I thought he might be... grateful that I made it so he could come home. To you, to Vicki, maybe even me. But he's proved me wrong ain't he eh?"

"What do you want Dennis? My gratitude? Him to be grateful that his daughter's been sleeping with his only murdering son?" She swallowed down her anger as she saw that Dennis was barely allowing her words to register, not even a flicker upon his emotionless face. "How... How could you make anything happen between us Dennis? How could you touch me like... that when you knew what you'd done?"

The corner of Dennis' lips rose up and set in that insincere smirk before he said; "I made that one loud and clear to you the first time Sharon. I just wanted to be used, didn't I?"

"No... No, I don't believe you." she returned fevrently, drumming her fingers against her cracked lips. "Once Dennis, maybe. But what is this? What's this between us now, this ain't about using."

Dennis gave her a scornful look. "Well I ain't got no other alibi have I?"

"Not like that." she said simply. "I mean us... or are you really saying that you've just been trying to keep me sweet?"

"It's a farce." he declared immediately.

"You might be right. But... this was supposed to be our... relationship. And you... you've destroyed it. Like we've destroyed Vicki, like you destroyed Jack."

Dennis nodded steadily. "Exactly like that. But remember this Sharon, I'm doing what Den wants, not what I want... not what I want for you-"

"Then why-?"

"Cos just like Mitchell-" Dennis cut in, needing to get the words out immediately, lest they should die with his courage. "-pulling that gun on me in your office, Daddy's left me with no choice. Oh, he gave them to me sure, but none of 'em were any better than this. I'm sorry."

"What... were they?" Sharon asked anxiously, faltering tellingly between the delivery of words because, and Dennis knew, she didn't really want to know the answer.

Dennis lifted his chin, concentrating on a spot on the wall way above Sharon's head so he did not have to risk catching sight of her brimming eyes as he spoke out the hateful words, still so fresh in his mind.

"He gave me one day to leave you. Like you never meant anything to me. I'd never have just left you Sharon, I couldn't have lived with myself."

"Why not? You've done worse."

"Nah. Like I say, Jack was scum. Someone was gonna bring him down one day. Didn't want it to be me. But that's the way it worked out. You know I wanted to be with you."

Sharon bit into her lip but threw back a cold look as he at last looked into her face.

"Easy sex." she nodded.

"No! Never! I love you."

Her voice swayed as a fresh wave of tears took her. "So why are you doing this to me?"

But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you

"Because... I either leave you or Den shops me. And if I hadn't told you, then I know he'd have loved being the one to do it, twisting it. But the truth is Sharon, you're the one that knows me; it's you that knows who I really am."

Sharon let out a quietly bitter laugh. "I thought so darlin', I really did. I thought you were letting me in. I thought I knew you better than anyone. But it's Dad-"

"No! Sharon, you're not listening! Didn't you hear me? I don't want... Jack to be what makes me. I'm more than that. You make me Sharon. I need you... yoy and me. And I know it's my own fault that I can't have that, that there's no us. But you... you made me everything I wanted to be. And people can say what they like about us, but we... were the most normal, perfect thing I have ever known. You were just too late." He laughed gingerly at her confused look. "Where were you when I was sixteen Sharon? Where were you to make me into the kind of person that's gonna deserve you?"

Sharon felt herself flush in shame. "Marrying Grant."

"Yeah... always known how to pick 'em haven't you? And I'll go away Sharon and you'll hate me, and then one day soon, you'll forget me. You will. And I deserve that cos you deserve better than what I am. But it don't change the fact I love you. It don't change the fact that what was between us was real. And I'm praying to God you know that too."

"Praying? The sinner repenteth eh?"

Wincing at her evident scorn, Dennis closed his eyes and nodded, releasing a breathless "Yeah. Summat like that."

"Because he got found out?"

"Because I had no choice but to tell you."

"So... all that... back at the club... us? What was that; last guilty pleasure?"

He bit guiltily in his lip, repeating; "I love you."

"Right, so you keep lying just to get laid?"

Anger twisted his very facial muscle but Sharon was unmoved, waiting on his words.

He bowed his head and pinched hard at the bridge of his nose, willing forward some clarity that refused to come. "I asked you if you were sure-"

"And I was! But I wanted a different man, I don't know you!"

"That's what's getting you here though isn't it Sharon?" Dennis curled his hand into a fist and drove it right into his stomach. "Right here. Because you know you do. You might not understand why I've done some of the things I've done, but you know me. You made me what I am."

"No!" she snapped, fright alive in her wide eyes. "You can't blame me for what you are!"

"I don't." he assured her calmly, lazily shrugging his shoulders to dismiss her panic. "I blame Den."

"Oh that's rich. You know, you're just like him, always finding someone else to blame."

"Well if he'd just had the decency to actually be dead-" Dennis hissed coldly. "I wouldn't have had to kill anybody. I wouldn't be sat here, having to let you, the only good thing in my whole life walk away from me. And I know you will. Jesus Christ, why would you stay? But I've got nothing after that. And he'll love it. So yes, I blame him. Now please, just get out." 

But Sharon did not move. She clung defiantly onto the bedspread and gave Dennis a look that said she believed he was crazy - she wasn't going anywhere and if he thought she would-

She released a soft murmur of mocking laughter, her hair tickling her flushed cheeks as she shook her head. "What gives you the right Dennis?"

"My room, my bed..."

"I let you into mine didn't I?"

"Yeah." he agreed shakily. "Because I lied to you. It's over now."

"No it isn't." she told him bluntly.

"No? I killed Jack, Sharon. You're not gonna get over that."

She bent her knees up to her chest and lazily hooked her arms around, shrugging off the duvet. "That's because I hate it. I hate all of it. I hate what you've done but I hate even more that you had to do it." 

Dennis snapped his head round in surprise and Sharon's eyes widened, inviting him to challenge her, but his own words failed him.

"If there's one thing I do know about you Dennis it's that you'd never have wanted to do anything like that."

"I was just building up to it." he muttered. But Sharon shook her head, refusing to believe in such an offer of bitterness.

"I know you've done too many things you can't stand. You did them because of Jack. Sixteen, seventeen, you'd have thought you were the big man, but the choices weren't yours."

"No!" he demanded, following her train of thought. "Sharon, don't you dare... don't you dare go forgiving me!" He leapt up from the bed and began to pace like he was caught in the whirl of fever. Sharon's sad eyes slowly tracked him, her heart pounding that little bit more with sympathy as his breathing became tellingly ragged in his chest.

"Do you know why you're hurting me so much?"

"Where to start..."

"It's not me that needs to forgive you. It's not Jack, it's you. You can't forgive yourself."

"Why should I? This is what I am Sharon, I'm cold, I'm cruel."

"No." she said simply, bitting into her lip to hold back tears. "Because if... if The Firm were anything close to what you and Dad say... if you... hadn't done what you did... they'd only have been burying me and Vicki and God knows who else. So you're right... I might not get over this, but I understand it."

"Yeah?" Dennis asked, slowing up at last. "So you understand what it means to hold a gun in your hands, press your finger to the trigger, shaking so much you think you might squeeze it without realising? You understand what it means to take away someone's life, to watch them die in front of you, knowing that you did that?"

"No." she shivered honestly. "But I understand you."

Dennis gave her a humoured smirk. "And here's me thinking I'd blown that one out the water."

"You're more than this."

"I'm a killer, end of. You know that now and I can't deny it."

"Alright... so you had to do it, to save you... to save Phil, Lou... and unless you can look me in the eye and say you wanted to kill him, that you wanted to live your life like this, then I... I'm not going anywhere."

His silence prevailed, despite the dangerous look that came Sharon's way, and she knew that she was right. Dennis had been messed up in things he could not escape from. He had never calculated murdering Jack, whereas Jack had evidently sat back and decided he wanted Dennis out of the way, or why else would he have called on Phil?

Sharon's stomach lurched with the most intense kind of nausea she had ever known. Phil. A man she had loved once, just as she loved Dennis. Phil had walked into her club with the intention of killing Dennis. Never with the bottle to see it through of course, but the intention had driven him to Angie's Den with enough fear inside him to have the gun shaking in his hand. Sharon was shaken. What was it about her and being so certain she had once known these men? She feared what Phil must have done to have owed Jack Dalton a "favour" and she feared more the things Dennis must have grown up surrounded by to declare that life within The Firm had just been building him up to murder.

"C'mon Dennis-" she demanded of his inanimate self. "Tell me you enjoyed it. Tell me you got a kick out of it."

His facial muscles scrunched in disgust and he staggered back, turning away towards the window and admiring the sheer normality of the activity happening on the streets outside. Sharon watched him, and she caught on to the way he was shuddering, so painfully slightly beneath his clothes. Silently, she climbed off the bed and moved over to the window, gently pressing her hand into his shoulder to make her presence known behind him. And yet, so immersed in this choking misery, Dennis still jumped in surprise, his brimming eyes locking upon Sharon's as he turned around.

"Do you want me to go?"

There was such a war of emotions happening all across Dennis' face. He would have thrown himself down onto his knees and begged her to stay had he thought he deserved her. But he knew he never would again, so bit back his selfishness and whispered miserably; "You have to..."

"No." Sharon told him firmly. "That's not what I asked. Do you want me to go?"

And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

She felt his shoulders sag beneath her touch and he turned around, shaking his head as he stared downwards, wanting to hide the obviousness of his tear-stained face. "No."

Such a shuddering relief flooded through Sharon at that one word, she almost fell off-balance. But she kept her composure and reached forward, stepping close as her fingertips brushed beneath his chin and she tilted it up, forcing him to at last look her in the eye. She spoke softly, her warm breath dancing across Dennis' face as she threw out their last lifeline.

"Then I'm - not - going - anywhere. I mean it. Dad is not gonna force us apart. Not for anything. OK?"

I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be

But Dennis was still, even as Sharon stretched up, caressing his dampened cheek with her fingers and pressed the softest of kisses to his unresponsive lips. "This doesn't work like that."

"It's up to us how it works Dennis. Me and you; not Dad, not Jack - us."

"But this... this wasn't an option."

"So what?"

Dennis rested his forehead against hers, desperate to savour the warmth of her sheer closeness for just a while longer. "So your old man's gonna make sure I rot for this. And you weren't supposed to care, you were supposed to walk away!"

"Never."

In a fit of desperation, Dennis pushed her away, their connection only maintained by the savageness with which he held her wrist. "Just go!"

"No! My dad's tried, Dennis, but this doesn't change anything - I still love you!"

"What kind of love are we gonna have in twenty years Sharon? Cos it'll be twenty years of nothing! This is my love darlin'... I want you to go and I want... I want you to be happy somewhere. Cos I can't do that for you where I'm going."

Stepping back in line with his rigid form, Sharon pressed back into Dennis' shoulder, giving no thought to the dull ache that coarsed through her wrist. "You're not going anywhere... not without me." 

He bowed his head, nodding only through amusement at her sheer belief, or delusion depending on your viewpoint and Dennis would have loved anyone's but his own at that moment.

"Well, tell me, who else knows? You're not an idiot Dennis-"

The cold laugh escaped him before he realised. "I told Den I did for Jack Sharon, weren't exactly a stroke of genius was it eh?"

"No." she admitted. "But I got rid of your clothes for God's sake, you tryin' to tell me you've still got the gun stashed here somewhere?" She gestured pointedly around the room, consoled as Dennis scowled at the ridiculousness of the notion. "Right, good. So all this comes down to is who else knows what you've done."

Dennis closed his eyes shamefully as he spoke. "You... Den... Andy... that's it."

"Andy?" Sharon echoed frightfully. "Andy Hunter?"

"Yeah."

"He knows? Oh God, Dennis, what... what did he do to you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Shook my hand actually."

"What?"

"S'what I thought." Dennis said of her bewildered look. "But to him, it's not a problem. He's the one on top now ain't he? He's a mate..."

"Would he keep quiet?" Sharon pressed anxiously.

"Course. I went to him... before I came to the club. It was him that made me see I had to tell you before Den. He reckoned you'd hate me enough as it was, never mind having to hear it from Den, loving every second of it- course, he'll love going to the police just as much-"

"But... Dad going on his own... he's got nothing."

"He'll work it." Dennis assured her darkly. "Andy... he wanted to hide us away... wouldn't do it unless you came too, but I told him that I-"

A reason to start over new
And the reason is you.

Sharon's mind was buzzing as she took in all the information, her choices, the pain of every outcome. And it all came back to that one all-consuming thought. No matter what his crime, her dad was never going to seperate her from Dennis for as long as it was within them both to love the other. All she had to do was look at him, such a passionate terror alive in his beautiful face and the words were ready, cutting off his own as she announced; "I'll go. I will."

Dennis began to tremor as he held onto her, his beautiful eyes wide with such an amazed terror.

"You... can't."

"Yes I can." she told him firmly, reaching and squeezing his hand. "I'm not going to lose you."

In spite of himself, Dennis managed a half-smile, but his senses promptly attacked him and he pulled away from her, turning away and declaring; "You can't. You can't live your life like that, not for me... not after this!"

"So what's your choice Dennis?" she questioned defiantly as he turned anxiously to look back into her face. "You give into Dad, leave me?"

He bit into his quivering lip. "I have no choice!"

"Yes you do. Darlin', I love you... my Dad can't change that with any of these threats. And if... if you still feel anything for me too then you'll think about what Andy's offering us..."

"Nothing! It's nothing Sharon, it's empty, it's running away!"

"It's our chance to be together!" she argued passionately.

"No." he returned sadly, stepping up to her and casing her sparkling face in his hands. "I'd make you so miserable baby."

Sharon whimpered as the lump pressed painfully in her throat. "But I'll never be any happier without you. I don't care what you've done... I need to be with you."

Weakened, Dennis bowed his head and pressed his lips lovingly to hers, just needing to feel her response, to know and savour her sweet taste. "I can't do this to you... you deserve better than this and whatever I do, I can't give it to you. Don't make me beg you-"

"Why are you trying to throw me away Dennis; why won't you listen? I want us to go to Andy, and I wanna tell him we'll go... the two of us, anywhere, anywhere we can be together. And if you won't, then I will! I don't wanna be alone-"

Dennis shook his head as he gulped down his own sobs. "But you won't be... look at you... someone else is gonna make you happy Sharon."

"But I never fought this hard to be with you just to give up at the first test-"

He laughed in quiet mocking that proved how broken he was inside. "It ain't a test... it's murder. There's no other way to say it."

"No, there isn't." she agreed weakly, stroking the outline of his lips before she stretched up and kissed him again. "But it doesn't mean I don't want you. I know the truth now and it came from you. That means you've given me everything you've got. It's time I did the same. I'm going with you Dennis, OK?"

"I can't believe you'd do this-" he murmured, in a pained awe as he caressed her face. "-I don't deserve you..."

"Well, I'm not doing it for just you am I? I'm doing this for us. Because I know what my dad's like Dennis but I still believe in you, whatever doubts you're having about me..."

"It's not you." he insisted, shaking his head. "You're incredible and I- I'm a-"

"Shhh." Sharon soothed, her eyes locked upon his brimming own. "That doesn't matter now. All that matters is that we hold on, yeah? So c'mon-"

Tenderly, she kissed the tears away as they marked his face and then she slid her fingers into his, gripping his hand fiercely as she tried to pull him forward into a forced walk. "-we'll go and talk to Andy!" 

But Dennis resisted her attempt to move him and she shrank back, gazing questioningly into his face. "I want to go on my own." he told her quietly, a colour in his face that looked a lot like shame to Sharon. And however much she wanted to cling on and demand that she come too, that they present a united front especially in the face of these latest trials, she recognised a need in Dennis' feverish face to keep her away from that world when in her ready forgiveness, Dennis was trying so hard to escape the person it had made him be.

"Well, OK-" she managed to say, sounding doubtful in her delivery, even to her own ears. "-so I'll stay put... but call me yeah darlin'? I need to know what's happening..." And Sharon sank dutifully back onto the bed, looking up and giving Dennis' tremoring hand one last reassuring squeeze before he found the will to dislodge it and leave the room, drawing the bedroom door shut behind him with the softest, most torturing click.

Sharon's stomach promptly lurched with fear and wringing her hands anxiously in her lap, she leapt up after these few seconds and pulled back the curtain from the window, watching Dennis stride across the Square. He held himself with the kind of determination Sharon admired greatly in this kind of moment, but at the same time, she could somehow tell how all of this was weighing her broken sweetheart down. She silently willed him to have that faith as he slipped from her view, so that he might return to her love and let her be the one to hold him strong.

~*~

Dennis felt sickened as he walked. This was never the way it was meant to go, and he almost hated Sharon for having it within her to forgive his most brutal of crimes. He loved her, more implicitly than ever, but that did not change the way they would have to live their life. And Dennis knew, he knew that Sharon deserved so much more than what he was left to offering her, and for the first time, he was doubtful as to how one challenged love could remain such a saving grace to his battered soul.

An escape with Sharon meant she had to give up everything she had ever known and loved just to lie in Dennis' arms at night. And oh, if she could not, Dennis knew he would miss her until he ached, but he feared more that such intimate moments were going to be forever tainted now, no matter what Sharon declared to the contrary. Dennis just couldn't believe she could believe she was happy, her whole life centred around the truth of Dennis - living for little more than his murdering self.

He wanted to believe they could be alright, but their love apparantly had no choice but to take on a suffocating kind of intensity. In the beginning, it had all been about passion, desire and Dennis missed how seemingly innocent it had all been. Because if they did this, if they took Andy's offer of help and ran, they'd spend God knows how long avoiding the law, avoiding the lies and more painfully, the truth on which that very love had been forged, so forcefully. And Dennis wondered now too, why had he been the one to force it so? Love Sharon he might, but that was never going to change what he was, even as he whispered lovingly to her, kissed her, held her, made love to her. No sincerity remained. Dennis knew that however much he wanted to pretend his love for Sharon was pure, it was sure to destroy them both.

And yet, he somehow found himself going straight through the back of the bookies for the second time that day, perhaps only because he did not allow himself to stop moving as these thoughts whirred, otherwise he was sure to turn and run away and he was painfully aware that nothing waited for him beyond that cowardice.

He didn't so much as bother to knock on the office door, he charged straight through, fully expecting Casper to jump up from the chair with the threat of his fists so laughably ready. But the room was completely empty and still. This unnerved Dennis all the more and he licked his lips nervously as he moved further inside, charging straight over to the drinks cabinet and lifting the heaviest decanter, not even caring to look down and register the contents. He just poured himself a hefty measure and knocked it back, barely even tasting it. Then he drank another, looking desperately around as though Andy might have been hidden by the desk, having bent down to tie his shoe laces or something.

But he wasn't, and Dennis grew irate, drinking more and more as his nerves swirled like a storm inside. He was getting weaker and weaker and his mouth was becoming dryer. He slumped heavily into the vacant chair behind the desk and realised... without Andy, here and now, he was all out of choices.

~*~

Sharon had been pacing around Dennis' bedroom, everything beginning to feel smaller and smaller and robbing her of breath, for the most painful fifteen minutes of her life. It had felt like hours and she was certain, the minutes as they showed on Dennis' bedside alarm, were having a great time mocking Sharon with the way they went buy so agonisingly slow.

She'd scanned the streets from the window and there was absolutely no indication that Dennis was heading back. Sharon had left the room once, to grab her mobile from her own room, so certain in her madness that she had heard it ring. But it had been inanimate, exactly as it was now as it lay trapped in her anxious fist.

She'd been willing him to call, muttering desperately under her breath as she stared hard at the blank screen. "Please Dennis, please just call. C'mon baby... I need to know..."

But these fifteen minutes were all she could bear - there were tears ready to spring from her eyes at the sheer unfairness of this wait. She leapt up and rushed from the house, going the way she had seen Dennis go as fast as she could. She was breathless by the time she crashed into the bookies, but her will was not gone.

"You alright Sharon love?" Pat cooed, looking up from the desk as she took Patrick's latest fiver. "You look ever so flushed!"

"I'm fine." Sharon assured her, craning her neck to check whether the door behind was definitely shut or not. "Is your boss in?"

"Andy? Yes love."

"Great." Straightening her back, Sharon walked to the door with her head held high. But Pat rushed over and pulled at her elbow.

"Oh no, Sharon love, you can't go in there!"

"Watch me." And Sharon rapped on the door with her fist, her phone still within her grip. She didn't wait for an invitation to enter, she just pulled on the handle and slid into the darkened little room. 

Andy was on the phone, but as he looked round and saw Sharon was stood there, he nodded slightly and hurriedly told his caller; "I'll have to call you back... business."

As soon as the phone clicked back into the cradle, Sharon asked; "Where's Dennis?"

Andy leant forward a little, lacing his hands together. "Your guess is as good as mine Sharon." He pursed his lips in thought. "Have you... talked?"

"Yeah-" she replied, the next breath to leave her chest causing her whole body to shake. "-Yeah, we have. I know what he's done."

She moved forward, the only noise that followed being the click of her heel on the floor. Gripping the back of the chair opposite the desk, she sank into it. 

"How can you stand being a part of that Andy?"

"Hey, like I told you when your old man came back; that weren't ever the way I wanted to do things. And the same goes for Dennis, I think you know that-" He raised his eyebrow and passed her a questioning look.

"Yeah, I do-"

"But when it came down to it, Dennis had more to live for than Jack."

"I hope so." she whispered, looking doubtfully down into her lap, where she held her still phone in her face. "Has... Has Dennis told you?"

"Told me...?"

"We want your help."

"We?"

"That's what I said isn't it? My dad ain't gonna split us up like this. If you wanna hide Dennis away Andy, then you're hiding me too. I go where he goes. He came here to tell you that-"

Andy shook his head. "I haven't seen him for a good few hours now Sharon..."

Sharon was unashamedly bewildered. "But he... he was coming over here... I watched him go!"

"Hang on..." Andy picked up the phone and dialled an extension. "Pat? Can you come into the office a moment please?"

Three seconds later, knowing there was no need to knock when she was being summoned, Pat appeared at the door.

"Yes, boss?"

He gestured to Sharon, sat silently in the chair. "Sharon here wants to know... has Dennis come in recently? Within the last hour or so, to place a bet, to see me - anything?"

"Well... yes. About... twenty minutes ago now it was, he just came striding back here. I was gonna tell him you weren't in, but seeing as you said you were expecting him back, I thought I better keep out the way, let him leave you a message or something, cos it's none of my business of course."

"Exactly." Andy said, thoughtfully stroking his chin as he leant back. "What kind of mood was he in?"

"Wired. Really agitated, like he had a lot on his mind."

Sharon laughed bitterly and muttered; "Yeah, that;d be about right."

"Sharon, love is everything alright?"

Sharon forced herself to lift her head. "Everything's fine Pat, really. I just need to find Dennis."

"Hmmm, well, I don't know if this is any help, but he came out again about five minutes later, obviously didn't wanna wait for you Andy, but he gave me a message for you, said you'd understand. Told me to tell you, thanks for the way out."

Sharon flinched as Andy's whole face twisted in horror. "What?"

"I know!" Pat chuckled disbelievingly, shrugging her huge shoulders. "Didn't make much sense to me either!" Then she turned to Sharon, patted her shoulder and said; "Whatever it means, I hope you find him soon Sharon, love!"

And she left. As soon as the door clicked, Andy began muttering feverishly to himself.

"Oh no, no, Rickman, don't be an idiot. She's right here, don't do this to us..."

"Andy?" Sharon questioned, panicked as she watched him lean down, tear open the bottom drawer of his desk and begin rifling furiously, sending random objects crashing over one another in his haste.

"DAMN!" he yelled in a fury, shoving the drawer back in with such force the whole desk shook.

"What?"

"I never thought he'd be so stupid!"

"What?" Sharon repeated, pleading this time.

"Pills Sharon. And a gun. Dennis knows I had 'em both here. And he's come in here and he's taken them... They're gone!" 

Sharon swang up from her chair in an instantaneous panic, clawing her hands through her hair as she looked desperately around the darkened room, like the two of them might have missed the sight of Dennis stood waiting beside a bookcase or something.

"Well, where is he then Andy?" she demanded sharply, feeling tears of sheer terror burn in her eyes. "Where the hell is he?"

"I don't know - do you think I'd still be stood here if I did?"

"We have to find him! He's going to... oh my God... he wouldn't, would he?"

"Wouldn't what?" Andy questioned, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. "Go after your dad... blow his brains out for a bit of light relief? You know what Sharon, I hate to be the one that tells you, this, but I really reckon he might!"

"Oh well thanks for that!" she barked immediately. "What the hell are you doing hiding loaded guns in your office anyway? Are you asking for this?"

"Hey-" Andy told her darkly, raising a finger of warning. "I happen to care what happens to Rickman as well y'know so don't-"

Sharon sagged under his words, barely managing to make it back into the chair, covering her mouth anxiously with her palm. "He really does hate my dad doesn't he?"

"Why wouldn't he? Den left him with the worst choice of his life..."

"But that's not true. I love Dennis. He's told me about Jack and it doesn't matter. I still want to be with him... he knows that."

"But does he believe it?"

"What... What do you mean?"

"Sharon-" Andy began gently, leaning back against the edge of his desk. "-when Dennis left me here earlier, the last thing he wanted to do was force you to live your life like this. I told him you weren't likely to let go of what's between you two, but he weren't buying it, not with what he had to tell ya- I think he wanted you to walk-"

Sharon was staggered. "But... he loves me... doesn't he?" And she hated that she was doubting it. But then, so was Dennis.

"More than anything." Andy assured her with a sombre nod. "And that'd be why. I mean, falling in love with your brother-" He raised his palms apologetically as the hated word left his lips. "-it's not exactly a chance to live a normal life is it? And Dennis thought... if he had to let you go, then at least you'd get a chance."

"I don't want a chance!" Sharon hissed perpetuantly. "I want Dennis."

"Hey, well don't look at me, I've always known that much. And Dennis too, til today. I guess he just thought you wouldn't be able to handle the truth..."

"It's him that can't handle it though isn't it? Otherwise what the hell's he doing running round with a loaded gun and did you say... pills in his pocket?"

Andy nodded. Immediately, as realisation hit, the colour drained from Sharon's face and she began to tremble. Andy recognised her distress and got up, fixing her another drink. He turned back and had to literally force the glass into her shaking hand.

"He's going to kill himself isn't he?"

"You don't know that."

"Oh don't I?" she spat savagely. "I can feel it... Andy, please, we have to find him!"

"Alright, alright!" Andy straightened up and moved away from the desk, pressing his hand comfortingly into Sharon's shuddering shoulders as she passed her. Sharon heard him muttering and then she heard Pat's voice, but she didn't care to take in what they were saying to one another. She was thinking only of Dennis, inwardly pleading with him to know and understand how much she loved him.

Andy returned moments later and helped Sharon up. "Think we might have some idea where he is... you gonna be OK in those shoes?" he asked doubtfully, casting his eyes down to her Stiletto heels. She dismissed him immediately.

"Never mind my bloody shoes, I need Dennis!"

"Alright darlin', I hear ya." And he paused, offering her his hand. She took it only because she was sure she wasn't going to be able to hold herself up otherwise. She felt so sick and with every passing second, it was only getting worse. Knowing that he now had her permission to guide her, Andy set their pace, a rapid one - the both of them anxious to reach Dennis before it was going to be too late.

Andy slowed up as they left the bookies, glancing pointedly towards the Vic. Awkwardly, he looked at Sharon and asked; "Do you wanna go.... check on Den?"

"You're asking if I care that he might be dead? No! He deserves it, he's been Hell bent on trying to destroy me and... oh God, Andy please... I don't care... let's just find Dennis!"

Dutifully, Andy led Sharon out of the Square without complaint. Somehow, she trusted his concern for her lover and followed his stride without question. Her breath was too tight in her chest to consider speaking anyway. It hurt just to consider where Dennis might be right now, what he might have done since he was alone, brooding and doubting the strength of Sharon's love. Regretful  tears were burning, ready to fall from Sharon's eyes. She stumbled a little against troublesome stones that were now littering her path. The air felt cooler around her, and with a sickening lurch of her stomach, she realised where she was and she could no longer keep silent.

Painfully, she turned her head and looked into the murky water, shivering in repulsion. She had been here so many times before, grieving for the man that had destroyed the one she dared to love. Dennis wouldn't be here... would he?

"Bingo."

Confused, Sharon looked up. And almost screamed through sheer relief. Her voice however, seemed to be gone and she was not noticed.

Dennis was pacing like a caged animal at the edge of the canal, almost looking tempted by the depth of the water. He was pounding the barrel of Andy's gun against his palm, obviously feverish with sweat because he was struggling to hold it. It was all Sharon wanted to do to race over, toss the hateful instrument away into the water, pull Dennis into her arms and beg him to believe in her. In fact, she decided with an air of determination, that was exactly what she was going to do.

But Andy had been watching her, second-guessing her decisions with every second and seeing her move forward, he stepped into her path, his arms encircling her to hold her back.

"No! Andy, let me go to him!"

"Don't be stupid!" he returned sternly, regretting that he had to raise his voice to make her see sense. "You go racing over there, you really think he's gonna go falling into your arms? Look at him Sharon! There's a gun in his hand... there's no-one else here... he's thinking about it. He doesn't wanna but bloody hell, he's thinking about it! Let me talk to him yeah?"

"He needs me." Sharon whimpered, hating that she said the words to convince herself, no-one else.

"But he'll let me say things he won't hear from you. He can't know you're here Sharon... it's not gonna help right now. And you wanna help him don't you?"

The tears beginning to fall, Sharon nodded jerkily. "Please Andy..."

He brushed the first droplets awa from her face. "Just trust me Sharon, OK? Trust me and you and Dennis, you'll be fine..."

Sharon heavily back on her heel as Andy turned away and steadily began walking the path towards Dennis. Sharon's legs shook as she stood so painfully still. She wondered if she might fall. Because she couldn't be noticed.

Andy didn't dare look over his shoulder. He kept his eyes fixed on Dennis', who only recognised his approach as a shimmering image on the water. He looked up, almost in accusation but Andy was unfazed, casually slowly a pace away from him.

Dennis' grip around the gun became fiercely tight as he lifted it, demanding; "What are you doing here?"

Andy managed the smallest smile in recognition of this question. He thought about turning it back on his friend but decided quickly against it, returning only; "I said I'd come with you, didn't I? Here I am." 

Dennis just about managed to laugh in Andy's face. He had been caught so off-guard by such a calm interruption. He was still, making absolutely no move to steal the gun from his increasingly unsteady hand. His eyes were like stone and for this, Dennis just about trusted him, but then of course, his every emotion was confused and misplaced these days. He staggered back, falling uncomfortably back onto the rickety bench, tossing the gun listlessly from hand to hand.

"Come to watch then?"

Andy pursed his lips thoughtfully and moved forward, settling himself beside Dennis, hunching forward as he toyed with his hands in his lap. "Don't look to me like there's much to watch mate..."

Dennis laughed again, this time with a severe bitterness. "Give me a break will ya? I'm getting there..."

"Go ahead. You've already scared the life outta me, there's nothing left. Jesus Christ though Dennis, why couldn't you have just gone and blown Den's brains out like I thought you might? This is...." Andy was thereby stuck for words.

"Better than going down for murder." Dennis told him bluntly. "Which I'd be doing either way if I went after Den. I've killed one guy and however much I hate Den, I don't wanna do it again. I couldn't do it to Sharon..." It seemed that to say her name left a painful lump in his throat. He spoke little above an emotional whisper.

Andy wanted to empathise with his friend's pain but in all honesty, he was aghast. "But you can do this? Bloody hell, do you have no faith in what that woman feels for you or what?"

"I had to tell her I killed Jack, Andy so forgive me for being a bit doubtful!"

"She loves you, you idiot! Really loves you!"

"Yeah, but that was then and this is now! Now she knows the truth and I can't... I can't make her live like that, not for me. She deserves better."

Andy nodded. "Damn right she does. She deserves better than having to bury your sorry arse, than grieving for you... whatever you think of yourself Rickman, you know she'll tear her fuckin' heart out for you - she'll blame herself and is that really what you want for her?"

"No, of course it isn't!" Dennis spat testily. "But I... I hate myself Andy, I really do. And I hate her for making me feel- for making me feel. I just want it to stop."

"So.... what then Dennis huh? Cos y'know, if all this... self-loathing or whatever goes as deep as you're making out it does, I reckon, you might just about raise the gun to your head. But it'll feel cold, your hand'll start to shake... you won't be able to hold it, just like with Jack-"

"Shut up!"

But he didn't. "You might just about get your finger round the trigger. But you'll still be shaking and praying that you don't pull it accidentally. Cos you don't really want to, I know that..."

"You don't know anything!" Dennis yelled, leaping defensively to his feet. Andy didn't even flinch. It was as if he himself had no emotion. He kept his unregistering eyes upon the gun, very aware that it was indeed weighing down Dennis' whole arm. He didn't want to hold it. 

He was scared... running scared and he saw no other way out. He didn't want to renounce Sharon's love, but it seemed as though he valued it above his own shattered life. 

"She's more than me! What the fuck does love mean anyway? She's "loved" fuck knows how many others and here's me, twenty-nine years old and it's all her. There's never been anyone else, not like this. I pulled her whole life to pieces just to have her in my bed, just once! How twisted, and cruel and selfish is that?"

"Took the words right out my mouth." Andy told him dryly.

"Shut up!" Dennis yelled again, so much more angry this time as he waved the gun threateningly. "She'll... She'll get over me, I'm nothing... I'm... murdering scum. I'll go away and she'll... she'll love someone else."

The voice that spoke next did not belong to Andy. Unmistakably. Because it wavered with a pain, so raw that Andy could never have done it justice.

"No, I won't..."

Dennis winced, like he was pained by the realisation. Guilt held the every feature in his face as he looked frightfully up into Sharon's tear-stained, captivated by her like a child. 

"Is that all you think of me?"

Suspicion took Dennis' whole body in his next miserable breath. "What are you-" But he couldn't talk directly to her. He couldn't. So he turned to Andy and demanded; "What's she doing here?"

"Same as me." Andy said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. But there was a different story to be told as his gaze strayed to and locked angrily, on Sharon. He pushed himself up, pulling her away from Dennis and hissing; "I told you to stay away."

"Well, I'm sorry alright, but I couldn't. I couldn't. Now please Andy, get out of my way..."

Sighing in defeat, Andy stepped dutifully back, revealing to Sharon the certified mess her lover now was. She took one deep breath of preperation, managing a nervous smile as she stepped forward, pushing her hair back from her face with a shaking hand.

"You weren't supposed to see this..." Dennis told her sadly, his eyes filling with tears as he was drawn unashamedly into hers, trying to ignore the presence of the gun weighing down his hand.

"And you weren't supposed to wanna do this." she returned without hesitation, concentrating on only his face, forcing the image of the gun from her mind. Her lover was not a decided killer, he wasn't. He was broken, torn apart by his guilt, guilt at causing her such pain. But she didn't care for her own. She just wanted to know that Dennis was still hers and from the words she was hearing come from his mouth, she was doubtful. "Please darlin', I'm begging now... tell me what's going on in your head."

"Everything. Nothing."

Sharon gave out a sympathetic smile that could not stay against her lips because she could not understand what it was she was fighting to sympathise with. He wasn't telling her anything.

"You don't wanna do this, I know you don't."

He laughed coldly, nodding towards her as he said; "You're sharp you, ain't ya? Don't miss much. Apart from them fourteen years that your dad weren't dead and me just... sneaking off one night to blow someone's brains out."

"Stop it. This isn't helping!"

 "Nothing's gonna help now!" he yelled scornfully. "I'm all out! Got your fuckin' dad pulling my strings, lovin' every pissin' second of it and I can't stand it anymore! I do or die! And you know what? I just ain't brave enough. Not on my own..."

Sharon shook her head safly. "You're not on your own. I haven't gone anywhere."

"Well, why not?"

"Because I love you. Because you need me."

"But I don't. I don't want you here! Isn't this-" A jerking pulse went painfully through his arm as he lifted the gun, making her flinch in terror. "-a big enough pointer for you?" He laughed again, his eyes locked upon her drawn and by now pale face. "See? You're scared aren't you? Well, not half as much as I am darlin', I can promise ya!"

Her lip quivered. It was all she could do to look at him, shaking so much she felt sick.

"You're not gonna do this..." she repeated in a brave whisper.

"Yeah?" he challenged savagely. "Don't be so sure sweetheart. Cos Daddy's waiting and I-  Do you have any idea what prison's like Sharon? Fuckin' hell, what am I saying, course you don't! It sucks the soul out of ya. Twenty years of that and I might as well be dead! So just go!"

"What? Turn around, leave you here with that-" She looked furiously down on the gun. "-and just hope they find... every limb? What use are you to me dead Dennis?"

"What use am I to you alive?" he bit back.

"I love you. And if you ever meant it when you said you loved me, you wouldn't be doing this to me!"

"Well maybe it just ain't about you anymore!" he told her angrily, hating so much that she was making him feel so much heavy guilt in so few words. "You were never supposed to be here!" He glared at Andy, who could say nothing. He had after all, tried to stop her.

"And what are you doing here darlin' huh? You were supposed to go to Andy and tell him... tell him we needed his help!"

"I woulda given it to you an' all!" Andy interjected, throwing Dennis a stern look. "You know I would. There's better ways than this!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes!" Sharon agreed desperately, summoning all her strength to hold her back straight and move steadily forward. 

Dennis watched her approach, mesmerised by her impending closeness. He didn't, however, see her grab at the gun. She wasn't trying to steal it away, no it was worse, even Andy was nervous. And both men flinched as she held defiantly, driving it hard into her chest. Her eyes didn't leave Dennis' and he was tormented by the every emotion he could read there. He watching the miserable tears brim, he was holding out for the hope, surrendering to her willing him to trust her, even if in their connection, he was endangering her like he couldn't bear. 

"You can be scared Dennis, you can hate my dad, you can hate what you did, but you can't throw me away. Whatever you do now, I still love you. I've watched people die darlin', people I love just as much as I love you and you know what it did to me. If you do this... to yourself, then I can't... I can't grieve for you too."

His voice swaying with pain and emotion, Dennis' fingers twitched painfully as he tried to pull the gun back, pleading; "Sharon... Sharon, let go..."

But she wouldn't. "You're breakin' my fuckin' heart.... you think I could stand to be here without you after everything it's taken?"

"Andy, make her let go!"

Andy moved forward immediately, feeling his own need to answer Dennis' anxious plea. "Sharon! Sharon, c'mon, this is... stupid..."

"Is it?" she demanded fiercely. "No! If he can kill himself.... he kills me first! Because I can't watch someone else I love die." Her piercing eyes danced over Dennis' feverish face. "You knew that. And I can't carry on again...."

Sharon felt sickened to feel the gun shake against her form as Dennis' hand began to shake involuntarily. He was in the midst of a terrified spasm. But Sharon lifted her head defiantly, trying to her best to hold on to strength she didn't possess. Her gaze would not move from Dennis' terrified on, his lips twisted miserably as he fought to hold back a sob.

"You won't leave me here-" Sharon told him shakily. "-not if I mean anything to you. You wouldn't do that to me, I know you wouldn't."

"But you think I could kill ya? I tell you about Jack and that's it? You think I could kill you?"

"It's not like that! You won't take the easy option! I want us to go, I need us to be together! And if you really... hate yourself that much that I can't have that in life, then I wanna go wherever you're going..."

"Hell." he told her bluntly, eyes cold. "Ain't gonna be any different than what I'm living."

"Yes it is. Cos you're gonna make sure I'll be there too..."

"Nah. See, that's the beauty of Death darlin'. I won't know what's going on with you."

"Yes you will. You know what you're doing to me Dennis, you can see it!"

"You just ain't hearing me are ya? I'm a murderer Sharon. I'm a thug... a liar, everything you said I was! And it's worse because... you were after all of that! I knew what I'd done, but I still came after you to screw your life up."

"No!" she whimpered, shaking her head desperately. "I don't care what you've done. I love you. This is it, whatever you're telling yourself. There's no... moving on... getting over you. I can't. I don't know how, cos you're everything. If you do this, if you're really so scared and so full of self-hatred that you can't see any other way, then... I can't be without you darlin', I just can't. I'd rather die, I would."

"What, and it's me that has to leave the great big bleeding hole in your chest? Me that has to watch you die? Sharon, you don't even know what you're saying!"

Sharon accepted that, but threw back her own observation immediately. "Do you?"

His lip quivered, his shimmering eyes evidently awash with the fattest, most miserable tears. And he began to cry. Desperately, not knowing how to hold it back anymore. Because she was the one that knew how to see down into and somehow understand his shredded soul.

"I'm scared."

"I know. I know you are sweetheart, I am too."

But he shook his head. He didn't believe she could fathom everything he was so terrified of. "I'm scared of the pain... I'm scared of what's afterwards. I'm scared that I won't do it. I'm scared that if I don't, Den'll win, I'll lose you, because I'll be rotting in some prison somewhere and I know that's all I deserve but... you!"

"What about me?" Sharon gulped weakly, unsure if she could really stand to hear him continue.

She jumped in terror as she felt the gun slip from her grasp as it forcefully left Dennis', who released it in repulsion, sending it clattering to the dusty ground.

"If I'm still breathing... then I still love you. I'll never stop. If I'm still breathing then I can't let you go!"

"But I don't want you to!" she protested. "Why won't you understand that?"

"Cos you're the one with the life to live. You'll move on and I can't live with knowing that'll happen, baby. I can't."

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with every day
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away

And with that, he sagged under the burden of his crippling emotion and fell like a needy child into Sharon's willing arms. She writhed anxiously as she held him, his whole devestated body tremoring so. And she purposefully kicked the gun hatefully out from within this desperateembrace, needing more than anything than to get it away from her bereft darlin', to remove the temptation. She heard it skid along the pathway and then the softest click that she recognised, with a relieved lurch of her stomach as Andy pressing his foot over it to stop it. He understood well Sharon's unspoken request and stooped to lift it, stowing it away in his pocket, even if he was not seen by the emotional lovers, wound together in a desperation to know that the other was safe against them and that, just maybe there was something salvagable left between them in this whole mess.

"I want you." Sharon whispered against Dennis' ear as he nestled into her shoulder, needing more than he could justify to know her warmth. "That's all I want. So please, please darlin', let's just take the help. Let's just go."

Dennis coughed miserably on a sob as he straightened up, studying her face, stained with as many tears as he could feel on his own. "We can do that?"

"Yes." she assured him breathlessly. "We can."

"You can do it right now." Andy called steadily. Dennis looked up, almost stunned to see Andy still stood there he had been so silent through this whole shattering exchange. "Fuck, Rickman, you had me going then."

Sharon managed the weakest offer of laughter as she clung to Dennis, smiling so gratefully at Andy as the tears shone on her face.

Andy stepped forward and extended his hand. Dennis' brow furrowed in confusion.

"Pills, Dennis, where are they?"

"Oh..." He glanced at the undisturbed waters of the canal. "...down there somewhere. Was always crap at swallowing pills."

Sharon went rigid. "How many did you manage to take?"

"About five... then I felt sick and... chucked 'em."

"Oh... thank God..." And Sharon threw her arms back around him without thought, just too damn relieved.

"I am... sorry." Dennis managed to choke. "I'm just so..."

"Shhh darlin', it's alright, I know. But we'll be OK, me and you, I swear. Just hold on..." And she kissed his anxious mouth, sinking back on her heel and turning back to Andy, unashamedly pleading; "Please Andy, please just get us away from here."

He nodded, only raising his gaze in doubt towards Dennis. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

His lips thinned in acceptance, his shoulders rising a little. "OK. Well, good.... I can get you get to the other side of London for now, then all you need to do is stick a pin in a map and I'll have you on a plane before seven, I promise..."

Another sob threatening to tear her chest in half, Sharon rushed forward, sagging against Andy in gratitude, hugging him so tight he was fighting to breathe. "Thank you." she whispered in his ear. "You don't know what this means to me."

"Oh, I think I have a fair idea darlin'." he assured her, giving her a kind smile as she drew back. "And you-" he continued, stepping cautiously up to his broken friend, pressing a hand to his shaking arm. "-you'll be alright yeah?"

Dennis' lips curved gratefully, and he threw caution to the wind, hugging his unintended saviour. "I don't think you know what you've just done mate, but I owe you... I owe you everything. I won't... I won't forget it."

Surprised by such a display Andy definitely was, but he also understood it well. Even in imagining Dennis to be the one to have hauled his one-time boss to the woods and stealing away his life, Andy was certain no-one could ever seen Dennis Rickman a man quite so desperate as he had been in the painful minutes to have just gone by. So he patted his friend reassuringly on the back with his palm and stepped back.

"Yeah well, don't go forgetting your passport either alright?"

And it seemed that since Sharon had led him so fearfully away from the canal, Dennis could not release her hand. Hours had passed them by in a blur of prepatory panic. They'd gone back to an empty house and Sharon had raced straight upstairs to begin throwing her belongings into a bag. A bag. Not a case, not like when they'd gone to Tenerife. It was all she wanted to be gone, she didn't care what she took. In fact, she took only one pencil skirt and her jacket, a few tops, night-shirts and a pair of jeans. That was it. 

Everything else was papers. Account details, whatever. Sharon was the owner of Angie's Den, there was nothing anyone, anywhere could do to stop her living off the profits with Dennis. It was her right to do with her money as she wished. She didn't need to weigh herself down with materialistic possessions. They would follow later when she and Dennis were settled again on the other side of the world. Safe, together. 

They just needed to be gone.

With that thought, Sharon grabbed her phone and her make-up bag, tossing it into her handbag on top of her savings books and cheque book.

Dennis watched her silently. He was scared, but Sharon didn't have the time to stop and register the look on his face. As she took out her passport from her beside drawer, she flapped it pointedly at him before zipping it pointedly into the half-empty bag and reaching for Dennis' hand as she led him into his own bedroom. She knew to stoop beneath his bed immediately and drag out his hold-all.

"Right... passport Dennis, where is it darlin'?"

Obediently, he edged past her and withdrew it from his top drawer. Smiling in relief, Sharon rushed over and kissed his anxiously set mouth.

"We're gonna be alright now. You know that don't you? We'll be fine."

She barely noticed his unresponsiveness, pulling herself up and kissing him again.

"You've got five minutes." she whispered tenderly. "Throw whatever you want into the bag; give me your phone and I'll call Andy..."

Dennis managed a very weak smile as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pressed his mobile into Sharon's waiting palm.

"Thank you..." 

She bowed her head, already scrolling through Dennis' phone book. She turned away, but as she went, caught Dennis' eye as he edged back to the waiting holdall on the bed and she mouthed; "Love you..."

Dennis looked down, trying to force down the uprising surge of guilt as he began pulling upon his drawers.

"Andy, hi. It's Sharon. All but ready to go darlin'. Oh... as far away as possible. No, I know, we lie low for a couple of hours I know, but... I just want us to get out of here. Thank you, you just... I don't know how I can ever... yeah, passports are in the bag. Alright, bye."

Sighing with relief as she clicked the phone shut and offered it back to Dennis, she told him; "He's gonna wait for us outside his place. D'you... want some help with this lot?"

Dennis shook his head wordlessly and carried on folding his clothes and placing them in the hold-all, not even looking at Sharon, which unnerved her.

"Darlin'...?"

"Why are you doing this, Sharon?"

"What do you mean "why"?" she questioned, stepping up to him with a nervous smile. "Cos I love you. And no-one has got the right to ask me to stop, whatever you've done."

"Well, what about Vicki? What's she ever done that- he'll tell her y'know."

"Why? What's he got to gain from that? If he's gonna learn anything from this, it's that if I lose you, he loses me. If he wants to hurt Vicki like that, then I'll get him right back. I'm gonna protect you Dennis, I swear. Whatever it takes."

"But you can't say that." he protested weakly. "We both know what Den's like Sharon, the things he'll do to stop us. What if you're not strong enough?" 

Casing his jaw and gazing with a fierce determination into his frightful eyes, she declared firmly; "You make me strong enough. Let him try, Dennis. He'll never find us after this."

"But I... I don't deserve you. You shouldn't do this, not for me."

Sharon stepped back and watched as Dennis shrank guiltily away, packing away the last of his things, wondering whether he should bother at all. 

As he straightened up, the bag zipped, Sharon thinned her lips and murmured; "Do you love me?"

"You know I do, but that's... not the point."

"It's the whole point!" Sharon argued. "It's everything. So please... let's go yeah?"

Dennis managed to raise a smile that sat stronger upon his lips this time as he hoisted the bag to his already weighed down shoulders. Sharon reached over, offering him her hand and he took it readily, without strength to be without her. Collecting her own bags from her room, Sharon lifted them over her shoulder without surrendering Dennis' hand, even as they moved with a hopeful glance down the stairs.

Sharon almost flinched as Dennis pulled shut the door of Number 5 behind them. To him, however, it was more like a release, closing the door on the horrors of this quite unexpected chapter of his life. And Sharon felt his strength in the way he held on to her hand and so she too found the will to lead him down the stairwell and across the Square, empty of eyes to see and to judge them.

"Andy..." she smiled, stepping up onto the kerb outside the Vicarage. Andy was leant against the roof of his car, watching their approach.

"Right. You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Rickman?" Andy pressed, noting Dennis' silence.

"As I'll ever be."

Andy shrugged. "S'good enough for me." And he moved round, opening the boot and taking Sharon & Dennis' bags as they in turn inched them off their shoulders and passed them over. The two of them climbed into the backseat, Sharon sagging with relief against Dennis' shoulders as they rejoined their tremoring hands.

"Anyone see you?" Andy asked, glancing at them via the rear-view mirror as he settled in the driver's seat once again and yanked out a length of seatbelt.

Sharon shook her head, nestling closer into Dennis. "No..."

"Good... Good." As he pulled out from the kerb, he looked up again. "I've got a place in Kensington..."

"Kensington?" Dennis echoed, almost, so very almost laughing.

"Yeah, Kensington." Andy confirmed, with a humoured nod. "Got a problem with that?"

"No." Sharon said firmly. "He hasn't."

"Not that it matters anyway-" Andy pulled at the clutch as they were forced to slow amidst the obligitary line of traffic that crawled out of Walford. Then he leant over and flicked open the glove compartment and withdrew a thin, slender and glossy wallet, tossing it at his passenger through the gap between the front seats.

"What's this?" Sharon asked, grappling to grasp it.

"What's it look like?"

"Plane tickets..."

"Australia." Dennis observed, quietly amazed.

"You'll be the other side of the world by this time tomorrow. Or at least, well on your way-" His gaze slid to the clock above the rear-view mirror. "-flight's at seven-"

"Oh Andy-" Sharon choked, fearing she was about to burst into tears. "-I dunno what to say..."

Andy laughed gently as he watched Dennis soothe her, his arms around her. "I dunno-" he shrugged. "-say you like kangaroo steaks?"

She laughed in spite of herself, composing herself with one gasping breath. "I'll pay you back, I promise."

But he shook his head. "I don't want your money Sharon. And I don't want you blubbing all over my leather seats either. Give us a smile eh?"

Sharon couldn't quite comprehend how as she readily obliged, but the man in front of her amazed her. He was saving everything that mattered to her. And why? What was her happiness to him?

It didn't matter however. Because her happiness swelled as they began to move again, picking up speed as all the familiar places slid past, behind them. Where it'd stay. Sharon looked down to her thigh where her hand lay fiercely interwined with Dennis', no longer shaking quite so much. She squeezed it hopefully. "We're gonna be alright..."

~*~

When Andy returned alone from Kensington later that afternoon, all Hell had quietly broken loose. It was with a private smile that Andy edged into the Vic and found every regular, and quite probably a crowd of strangers just come off the streets to enjoy the entertainment, stock still, mouths gaping. None of them were saying a word. All that had been left to none other than Dennis Watts.

Poor Vicki was stood behind her father, her hands placed despairingly over her face, like she had long ago given up hope of restoring anything vaguely recognisable as peace. Because, as white as a sheet with the fury, a fair temples pulsing in his head that looked fit to burst, Den was stood, seething in the face of Ian's girlfriend, Jane.

God knows what she was doing with a weasel like him. He was slumped back in the booth, paralyzed in fear under the force of Den's accusational fury, looking like the bullied school boy who stood in the corner and wet himself. No longer his hero, more his would be assasain. And yet Jane had guts, was on her feet, her pretty eyes widened with her own anger.

"I'm not going to ask you again... where is my daughter?"

"I've already told you a thousand times, I don't know where Sharon is!"

"Well, I don't believe you!"

"I'll learn to live with that somehow Den, believe me!"

"Jane!" Ian hissed, horrified.

"Oh Ian, shut up!" she snapped dismissively. "Look at him will you, he's nothing special! He's just another bully!"

"I'm warning you-" Den hissed quietly, his lips so thin they no longer existed.

"Well go on! Warn me! I still don't know where Sharon's gone. But we all know why she's gone, don't we Den? I mean, I'm assuming you can't find Dennis either right?"

Den's eyes flashed dangerously. While Ian flinched, Jane smiled knowingly. "They've run off together... that should really tell you something shouldn't it, but no! Just another pig-headed male. Such a shame Dennis won't have told anyone where they've gone eh?"

It was with those words that every eye in the place discovered Andy, whose face remained emotionless. "What?" he laughed with a false nervousness. He'd dealt with a lot worse than Den Watts in his time. In fact, he was gonna enjoy making the old bastard sweat.

Den charged forward, giving no thought to seizing Andy savagely by the collar, despite the protests of the whole pub. But Den held no regard for them, not even Vicki, not right now.

"Dad! Get off him for God's sake!"

"Not til he tells me where my bastard son's taken Sharon?"

Andy smirked, shrugged him off with ease and smoothing down his clothes. "Sorry, your what?"

"Dennis and Sharon have disappeared." Vicki mumbled.

"Oh right!" Andy said smartly, pursing his lips. "You mean Dennis. Only I didn't think you had a son-"  

"I don't." Den spat. "Not anymore. Now tell me where he is."

"Search me. No, I mean it... search me if you have to. No idea at all. Drink?"

Back in the haven that surprisingly was Kensington, Dennis himself was already on his third glass, unable to bring his sad eyes from the bottom of it. Sharon was sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, wishing she knew what to say to bring his broken gaze up to her face. But only anxious silence answered her, no contact between the two of them at all. She couldn't bear to get up and pace around the flat again. It was a beautiful flat and she almost felt safe here. After all, they only needed to hide out for a few hours until Andy could sort out everything for their "escape". But she didn't dare move because Dennis was rigid. And Sharon knew how. With self-loathing, with fear.

And as he sighed heavily with the frustration, Sharon flinched, painfully so. She watched him rise and pace to the window with the glass in his hand, shaking. He tilted it up to his lips and took in a desperate, deep and seemingly never-ending sip.

Unable to remain still, Sharon pushed herself up and stood anxiously at his side, her hand pressed tenderly into his arm. He looked down on it frightfully.

"I don't think I can do this." he murmured vaguely, perhaps not to Sharon at all. But she took upon herself to answer, needing to quash the stirrings of nerves in her stomach. She answered him honestly, but passionately.

"You probably couldn't, not on your own. But it's never gonna be like that. Never."

"Why are you still here?" he questioned, almost as if he was pleading, his eyes fixed upon her with a flare of accusation. Sharon could almost hear the lump swelling in his throat.

"Oh..." she pushed lightly against his shoulder to encourage him to face her. "...why can't you see what you are?"

He laughed bitterly, staring down into his glass again. "I know what I am, Sharon..."

Sharon pressed her hand around it and pull it from his grasp, abandoning it on the widow-sill and turned back to him.

"Stop. You can't keep answering to one mistake..."

"But it wasn't a mistake was it? I knew I'd have to do it, so I did."

Sharon shrugged carelessly. "I don't care. You are everything to me and whatever you're feeling right now, you can't change that."

"I don't want to. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't. This... it'll be forever."

Sharon smiled weakly, hunching her shoulders. "Well... it was never how I imagined it might have been, but... if it means I have you..."

Dennis looked away, mumbling; "Why would you want me? I'm nothing..."

"That's not true. You are one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Bit cagey, but... I know you don't think that you've got it in you but you... the way you are with Vicki... and Dot... you are so loving and I'm lucky to be here... with you. I won't let go, not for anything... or anyone." He blanches his lip at my wide-eyed look, and I know that the point's gone home, whether or not he'll be willing to take any notice of it. "I love you."

His lips curved in spite of themselves and he tenderly stroked hair away from her soft cheek. "But you wouldn't have done. You wouldn't..."

"But I do. Please don't throw it away. Me and you... we'll be fine, as long as we're together. Yeah?" Sharon stretched up and brushed his tremoring lips comfortingly, drinking in the taste of alcohol on his lips.

He let out an uneasy breath he would otherwise never have allowed himself to breathe, instead suffocating in his guilt. "Den's gonna be doing his nut."

"Let him. He doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is you... and me. I know you've gone through Hell my darlin', and I'm so sorry. But it's gonna get better... it is. No-one can touch us anymore. Trust me?"

"You know I do. I just... I never wanted you to know... I just wanted it to be about us..."

And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear

"And it is. That's why I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you.

Dennis smiled weakly, bowing his head to kiss her gratefully. "I'm scared." he whispered truthfully, voice swaying with the threat of emotion.

"I know, baby." she returned comfortingly, caressing his neck. "I am too. But we're gonna be OK."

"Are we? What about when I screw up again?"

"What if I beat you to it?"

"Yeah? When'd you last kill someone?"

"I won't hear this, Dennis, I won't."

"It's who I am." he answered defiantly. "You can say you can forgive it, forget it, but what happens when I hurt you... just as someone who loves you? You're not gonna forgive me, Sharon. You can't seriously give your life to this when you know as well as I do, I'm only ever gonna hurt you. It's the last thing I want, but I will."

"No." Sharon countered certainly. "Not until you don't love me anymore..."

"Then make me stop. Please. This is killing me. I can't drag you down with me."

"Down where? We're getting on a plane tonight, Dennis and we're getting away from all of this. He's not going to hurt us. He's not going to take you away from me. I don't make sense without you, don't you dare ask me to give up, cos that's gonna kill me and you wouldn't-"

His eyes, glittering manically, fixed on her, narrowed in confusion and... disappointment... aggravation and every miserable emotion. "You just don't know what you're saying do you? I've done that! I've actually killed someone Sharon. It don't matter that he deserved it. You're stood there, berating me for not doing the same to you when I love you."

"So why d'you wanna be without me?"

"Because I don't think I can make you happy. And that was all I ever wanted."

Reading the desperation in his face, Sharon pushed herself up onto her toes and wrapped her arms around Dennis' neck, rocking him gently against her own tremoring body. "Stop... please. Why can't you just have a little faith in me?"

"I do." he insisted, nestling into her and pressing his lips to the base of her neck. "I swear I do..."

"Good..."

And, pulling him back from her shoulder, Sharon tenderly peppered his lips, drawing the weakened Dennis further and further into her kiss. His hands sliding down to rest on her hips, he went with her as she strode back towards the bed. Dennis began to tremor as he lowered her down onto the duvet, as if she were a doll. He felt as if he was breaking her and yet his own selfish need won out and he sought his solace in her kiss. Even when everything was wrong in his own being, Sharon's implicit love made everything seem like it might be OK, and for a while, his hands working tentatively at her clothes, he was lost to her reassurances, just wanting her to know the sincerity of his damaged love.

But his comfort was shattered when there came the trilling of Sharon's phone from deep within her bag, they both recognised the tone. Sharon gasped and stiffened. But it was Dennis' terror that was more evident and she could bear the idea of his unease. She cupped his feverish face and willed him to look nowhere other than in her eyes. She shook her head slowly and murmured; "Nothing else matters anymore..." before kissing him again, wanting to soothe away his nerves and self-loathing. to feel his touch again, to know that he was hers as much as she needed to be his.

It was there that they began to make love, the only action that seemed natural to both in this doubting and emotional state. And both shuddered gratefully in the arms of the other as the phone stopped ringing. Once again, it was just them...

~*~

Sighing, Den pulled the phone back from his ear. He didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. After all, his own daughter was so brainwashed, she'd run off with her own good-for-nothing brother just to have him as a lover. The very idea made Den's stomach churn with nausea and the most irrepressible rage. Although, had Sharon answered his call, he would of course, have tried his very best to control it. He'd have said anything he needed to to find out where she was hiding, what the Hell she thought she was doing. He'd have brought her home and that scumbag.... well he could rot.

Den did not believe that that Andy Hunter knew nothing. He'd seen that kind of smug and deceiving look in too many faces. But, however much he would have liked to smash it right off, it would have done him no good. Den knew well he was an old man now, physicality was not his friend, and up against Andy Hunter's brainless monkeys? Oh, it made a cruel smile curve his cracked lips as he realised that that was what Dennis had been reduced to. He was no better than that.

And now Den was going to make sure he was never going to be anything ever again.

Oh no, Den Watts did not make empty threats. Not ever.

So he took a deep breath and ascended the steps, pulling open the door and sauntering up to the front desk, a sombre look upon his face as he thinned his lips, waiting for the attention of the pubescent in a uniform behind the desk.

"Afternoon sir. How can I help?"

Den released a mocking little sigh as he laced his hands together and rested them on the desk. "I need to speak to whoever's in charge of the Jack Dalton case. I know who killed him. I need to speak to your Guv'nor about my son..."

"Oh Andy... Den was in here a second ago love, said you were expecting him?"

Andy stopped level with the serving desk, throwing Pat an odd look. "Den?" he echoed. "Den Watts?"

Pat nodded, laughing nervously. "Unless you know any others. I know it's none of my business boss, but what's going on? You've had the whole family through the door of that office today, apart from young Vicki and well, none of them looked best pleased did they?"

Andy sighed heavily. Usually, he'd have just snapped and reminded her; "You know what, Pat, you're right. It is none of your business so keep your beak out yeah?" but for some reason he had never quite fathomed, he respected her more than he had any other woman since his mother. And he knew that she cared for Sharon.

"Sharon..."

Pat hunched her shoulders as she waited for more, obviously not quite yet understanding. "What about her?"

"Run off with Dennis, hasn't she?"

Pat gasped. "No!"

"Yep. Guess they felt they couldn't stick around with Den being the way he was."

"Well... you can't really blame him, they're his kids, the pair of them.

"Nope." Andy said simply, with one firm shake of his head. "You'd only get away with using that line if he'd ever treated Rickman like his son. I mean, let's face it, it's hardly Dennis' fault he was born into this is it?"

Able to do nothing but agree in a reluctant mumble, Pat blinked. Andy almost sounded compassionate.

"OK... so what's it gotta do with you?"

Andy pursed his lips, shrugging. "Me & Dennis used to be close. Guess Den thinks I know summat... which I don't." he added firmly as Pat raised her eyebrow in questioning. "But Rickman's a different man now. He's got Sharon and he's got his obstinance. He ain't about to let her go just cos Daddy's had a temper tantrum."

"I'd like to hear you tell him that." Pat laughed omniously. But Andy waved his hamd, motioning for her to follow as he went over to the door of the office.

"C'mon then..."

"Oh no, Andy, he ain't there. No, he went through, said he'd wait. And seeing as he said you were expecting him, well, I didn't think anything of it, carried on serving the punters... sorry."

Andy shook his head, needing to get to the more important bits a little quicker. "Don't worry. When did he leave?"

"After about ten minutes I'd say. Looked even more angry... Den never did like to be kept waiting."

"My heart bleeds..."

He turned away, opening the door. He slid inside and clicked it shut. And as he turned round to take in the surroundings, he heard a groan. He looked down and saw Casper, sprawled against the filing cabinet, blood oozing from everywhere he could have been struck.

And Andy laughed, mocking the man in his agony. "Don't tell me... Den Watts flattened you."

Casper simply coughed miserably, unable to move he was so dazed... and he was pretty sure he'd had a couple of ribs broken an' all.

"Well, well... this was a perfect little temper tantrum wasn't it? Look at you, you're pathetic. I pay you to hold your own! The man's old enough to be your dad! What's up, can't take out the grandads anymore?"

"Boss..."

"Still... as long as you've kept that swollen mouth of yours shut, we should be fine. Yeah, I'd get some ice on that if I were you..."

"Boss!"

"What?" he demanded savagely, turning on his heel and kicking Casper in the shin as he went. He was undecided as to whether he might have meant to do it or not. "You did keep schtum didn't you?" His eyes narrowed dangerously and Casper's next whimper wasn't necessarily one of pain. "Didn't you?"

"I thought he was gonna kill me..."

"Yeah? Well, that's nothing compared what I'm gonna do to you..."

This time very deliberately kicking him as he stepped over Casper to get to the desk, Andy was frantic. He fell down into his chair, his hand already closed around the phone. He ripped it out of the cradle and stabbed at the keys, dialling a number as he remembered it.

"I'd get out of here while you can still walk..." he advised Casper menacingly.

Had Andy cared for his pain, it would have been agonising to watch Casper drag himself up.from the floor, limping the half a pace to the door. But he didn't, all he wanted was for the ringing tone in his ear to give out and connect to someone on the other end...

~*~

Sharon could have happily stayed wound in Dennis' arms until they needed to get up and leave the horrors of this day, this life behind. She knew she was right, because just to be here, like this, things in her otherwise abused mind made perfect sense. She was no angel, she couldn't judge Dennis for this one mistake. She knew he disagreed with her there, but it was a mistake. He'd never have truly wanted to kill anyone. She knew what was true in his nature. 

He loved her, having spent his whole life too afraid to love anyone. Jack Dalton was everything that had ever been wrong in Dennis' life. It was better that he was gone, and better still that Sharon & Dennis together were escaping Den. Sharon was not about to allow him to become the second terrible influence on her lover. She was going to protect Dennis and she was going to spend her life loving him, even now certain that what was between them was pure.

Just for a second as she had lain in his arms, everything had felt normal. Like they were just two people in love. There were no dark clouds hanging over them.

But almost instantly, they reappeared and the warmth of their bodies wound together was not enough to comfort either of them. So, Dennis kissed Sharon's crown and they both rose to dress, not saying a word, somehow not needing to, even in this unease.

They both flinched as Dennis' phone began to trill, shuddering desperately on the window-sill next to the drained glass. It took them both a few seconds to realise that it was Dennis' phone, Sharon already up and one and a half paces across the room. But Dennis caught her elbow and drew her back. She smiled gently and let him go and pick it up, just... watching him. She wasn't sure how she felt as she did so, but... everything was OK wasn't it?

She didn't know, because Dennis said nothing as he held the phone to his ear. He seemed too still. He pulled back the phone without pressing any keys so as to terminate the call. He just turned to face Sharon, his face ashen, and lips thin.

"He's done it. Den's done it."

"What?" Sharon shook her head desperately, completely unwilling to comprehend any of it. "No! No!"

But Dennis had nothing else left to give. So Sharon stepped up and took the phone from his shuddering palm, recognising with a quick glance at the screen that the call was connected to Andy.

"Andy?"

"Sharon? Darlin', listen to me, you and Rickman, you've gotta get out now, you understand? Now. I'm sorry..."

"But... Dad has nothing... nothing."

Andy sighed. "He knows where you are."

"What?"

"I'm sorry!" he repeated sincerely. "Your old man decided to get physical with one of my monkeys and damnit, monkeys squeal. I should have known I couldn't trust him. He'll be paying one Hell of a price for this I can assure you, but you and Dennis, you have to get gone before the Old Bill arrive."

"Has he... actually gone to the police?" 

"That's what he threatened i'n't it? And if he knows where to send 'em...?"

"Oh my God..."

"Just go, OK, anywhere. I will get you on that flight, I swear..."

"OK, OK..." she gabbled breathlessly, shaking as she ended the call, not quite sure what she was supposed to do with the phone now. She rammed it carelessly into her bag, zipping that up and throwing it onto the rumpled bed. She rushed over and tried to drag Dennis away from the window. But he was heavy, so rooted to the spot. "Dennis, darlin', c'mon..."

"Why?" he questioned vaguely, not even turning his head to look at her.

"Because we have to go!" she cried desperately.

Dennis simply blinked, shaking his head. "No."

"Dennis, please... we haven't got time!"

"Then we haven't got time to keep running either have we?" he snapped. He regretted it almost immediately and sagged a little as he glanced at her. "I can't do this to you. I just can't. This isn't you and I won't let you live like this. How can you... Andy be telling me to run from this crime when we all know I'm guilty. I deserve what's coming, anyone ever thought of that?"

"I don't deserve this!" 

Tears brimmed in Sharon's eyes.

"I need to be with you, not waiting twenty miserable years just to kiss you like I need to."

"But... you'd get over me. You'd have no choice. Then you could actually live some kinda life. Me & you... we'll never have that."

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you

"You said... you said you didn't wanna let me go."

"And I don't." he confirmed, lip blanched. "But what I want don't matter. Cos if I loved you at all, I'd let you have what was best for you."

"But that's you. You know that!"

He laughed coldly. "What, you mean, like Den does? Maybe he's doing you a favour here, giving you a chance to forget your crime - cos I'll be rotting for mine..."

"A favour? What d'you mean a favour? He wants to destroy us - and you're gonna let him!"

"Well, maybe I'm tired of running. Cos that's what I've been doing since the second I pulled the trigger. And I did Sharon. Maybe I just wanna be the better man and admit it."

Sharon struggled to swallow down a formed lump in her throat that otherwise threatened to choke her. "So you're gonna put your hands up, leave me and let Dad win... just to be the "better man"? For God's sake, we're talking Den Watts here, it don't take anything to be better than him! You're not gonna do this Dennis, you're not!"

"But I already have." he shrugged carelessly, pulling back the curtain to peer further out the window. "And that lot down there know it..."

And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

Sharon couldn't process that last murmur. But as Dennis moved steadily away from the window, she stepped up, and recoiled in horror at the sight of the police car to have pulled up by the kerb outside.

"Dennis!" she cried, terrified as she raced after him towards the main entrance. 

But he didn't stop. He kept walking. There was almost pride in the way he held himself, but more than that, there was relief. He moved as though he was completely unburdened, which Sharon knew he wasn't, because she was practically convulsing with the fear, but still, it must have been a nice delusion for a condemned man.

"Baby, please!"

And though Sharon's every muscle felt shredded, she pushed herself on, matching Dennis' determined stride. She sort of collided with him, rebounding as he turned, thankfully managing to catch her, steadying her in his arms while they were still free.

"It's too late, Sharon." he murmured miserably, making the threat of his own emotion all the more obvious as his voice shattered. "We're done now."

"No! No, we're not. Don't let him win, Dennis, I'm begging you, don't. I love you... doesn't that mean anything?"

"Yeah." he whispered, with a sombre nod. "It means you have to stop. Oh Sharon..." He tenderly quashed the tears that poured from her eyes and down her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "...don't cry. You know I hate seeing you cry. You just... oh darlin', you were never supposed to love me, not you. There was always better out there for you. I just... I couldn't help myself... a bit like now, really. This is it.

"It doesn't have to be..."

"But it is. Dry your eyes eh?"

She did so obediently, laughing weakly at the way he watched her so intently, a sincere little smile in the corner of his mouth. When she was done, he held her face in his hands and drank in the image of her beautiful face, never wanting to forget one perfect detail. He'd figured he had a horribly long time ahead of him to forget her and if he ever did... then... even this guilt was worthless.

He bowed his head and kissed her fiercely, drinking in the taste of her sweet lips, deeper and deeper, knowing he was never likely to kiss her again. No, he was just going to spend the rest of his miserable existence, wishing for one more when he was willing her, however much he had previously told her he couldn't live knowing it, to move on, to live her life and to love without him. 

He knew well he should have run, taken her hand and never let her go, never let her doubt how much he loved her. But the problem was, he was flawed. He was a criminal and Sharon deserved more than what he could no longer conceal. She was more than him, he had always known it. And though he knew there was no-one that could love her as fiercely as he did, he didn't doubt there were strangers out there more deserving of her reciprocation. This... This was his first and most probably last act of selflessness. He wanted her to be free to live the kind of life she deserved. Because Dennis was going to go to what he deserved with his head held high. That way, Den would never win. Not really.

"Please Sharon-" he pleaded shamelessly, fighting back to the urge to not just claim her lips again. "-Please don't watch."

But Sharon bit into her lip as tears brimmed. "I have to..."

Somehow, he understood. He hated it, but he understood. She needed it to be real. He sighed heavily and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch. Sharon leant heavily against the door-frame, feeling as though her weakened legs would not carry her any further without the threat of collapse. 

So she leant there and silently, that lump pressing dangerously in her throat, she watched. She watched Dennis move forward to the casually dressed detectives, like all he was gonna do was offer them directions or comment on the weather.

"Afternoon." he said steadily. He even smiled.

"Mr. Rickman..." she returned with a nod, sounding as if she was already finding the exchange tedious.

"It is me you're looking for isn't it?"

DI Marsden jutted her hip, resting her hand against it. "How did you guess?"

"Oh, it weren't no guess. We both know what you're here for. So c'mon..."

He laid out both his wrists side by side. Neither DI Marsden or her colleague moved, and Sharon, she was in emotional agony. She could barely watch, but she still had to. She could feel her lover slipping further and further away at his own determination and nothing had ever hurt this much before.

"Or do you want 'em behind my back?"

"Sounds to me like you've been expecting this for a very long time..."

"You could say that."

Marsden smirked and pulled out a pair of hand-cuffs. Sharon was biting so hard into her lip, she could taste blood. She couldn't bear this.

"Don't!" she cried out, rushing to the kerb. "Don't."

"Do it." Dennis demanded quietly in Marsden's direction. "Just do it now."

But Marsden stepped willingly back. "Oh no-" she said smartly. "Your sister's obviously got something she wants to say, Dennis, I think we best hear her out, don't you?" 

She was still smirking as Sharon stopped just in front of Dennis, caging his wrists in her own hands. "This isn't done. It isn't. Whatever's best for me in your opinion, Dad's opinion, it's not what I want. Me & you, Dennis, we're gonna be together, whatever it takes..."

Marsden listened with interest and here, interjected dryly; "A statement is about the size of it, Sharon."

"Then I'll make one." Sharon snapped, glaring at her.

"We already have one, thank you."

"Then I'll give you another one, fill in a few more of the details?"

Marsden smiled sarcastically. "I'd like that. But if you'll excuse me, I need to get on with the job in hand... Dennis?"

But he barely heard her. He was simply looking down on Sharon's determined, beautiful face. He was so in love with her that at that moment, he was suffering physical pain. He didn't know exactly what she meant by what she had spoken, but he knew he believed it. He was trying so hard to shake her off and yet she didn't want to let go. Because she knew as well as he did that he loved her more than anything - that it was the last thing he wanted in the world to let go. It was as though they were nothing without one another.

He lifted his hand and stroked the last of the tears off her stained face. Sharon pressed her hand fiercely over his and turned her head, kissing his fingers.

"I love you." she declared soundlessly. Then she stepped back, and turned her head away so that she did not see as Dennis once again laid out his wrists. 

She did not look up as Marsden, sounding so damn smug about it too, read Dennis his rites. 

"Dennis Rickman, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Jack Dalton. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Sharon did however manage to smile to herself as Dennis said; "I know the drill love, don't worry."

But then she flinched as she heard the sickening click of fastening cuffs. But as the tears burned, she willed herself to not look up. Even when the door slammed, the engine started and the car pulled away, her lover inside, she did not look up. Instead she walked on her same two weakned legs back into the flat and took out the first phone she came across in her bag. Dennis'.

She stabbed anxiously at the keys, the phone at her ear before she had even pressed the button to force the call to connect. Luckily it did, and was answered almost immediately. She did not give him chance to speak.

"Andy? He... He let them arrest him. He's gone. I... I need to get to the police station... I have to get him out of there..."

Andy was with Sharon as soon as was humanly (and not necessarily legally) possible. She climbed into his car before he had even fully pulled up to the kerb. She slammed the door and Andy drove away before she was even fully settled in the passenger seat. There were more pressing matters. Andy thought he might have once had some understanding of how Rickman's mind worked but apparantly not.

"I don't understand... how could he let them arrest him?"

"He... He just went down to 'em. Said he wanted to be the better man. So he went down and he just... let 'em. I begged him not to Andy, I swear. I begged him."

He nodded uneasily. "I believe ya. So... what is it you're gonna do?"

"Anything."

"OK... so... then what?"

Sharon played with Dennis' phone in her hands, seemingly reaching a decision as Andy's words sunk in and flipping it open, stabbing furiously at the keys as she told her companion; "We have a plane to catch."

She lifted the handset and waited for each treacherous ring to pass. She'd counted six when they were cut off and the call connected. Again, Sharon gave no opportunity for any words but her own.

"Well, they found us, I hope you're happy. But let me tell you something, taking Dennis away from me doesn't make me any more your daughter. He's your son and you've let him down. I'll never forgive you for that."

Before she had even fully drawn in one breath, Sharon ended the call, tossing the phone heavily back into her bag.

"What was that about?" Andy asked, glancing fleetingly over.

The corner of Sharon's pretty painted mouth rose into a smirk as she shook her hair gently from her face. "The thing about my dad, Andy, is... he likes to think he's won..."

"Has he?"

Sharon arched her eyebrow. "You think I'd let him?"

Andy smiled proudly as he drove. "Wow. Daddy definitely underestimated you."

"Oh, I haven't even started..."

~*~

As Walford Police Station loomed over them, Sharon could admit to a few stirrings of nerves. But not for what she was about to do, oh, there was no doubt there whatsoever. All she could think of was Dennis, knowing that he was here somewhere and that he was no doubt being completely grilled against whatever poison Den had fed all those willing for new leads. Marsden always had been a desperate one. Sharon was in two minds as to whether she should give the poor woman an early Christmas present and feed her beloved Phil Mitchell into her sweaty palms. Oh God, just the thought that Phil might well have killed Dennis, albeit under protest, it made her so damn angry. It would serve her right if she did do it. 

But she wasn't going to. All she cared about was Dennis' strength of mind. Were they picking, making him crumble, doubt himself, doubt his reality? Because if they managed that, then Sharon had lost him and her life was once again completely without purpose.

He did believe in her didn't he? Could he tell she was here, ready to do whatever she had to to bring him back to her?

Andy watched her face intently, the way it shone with anxiety, the way breaths left her mouth shallow and rapid. Unclipping his seatbelt, he leant over and pressed a hand over her arm in concern. Her gaze dropped to it, as if she was frightened. But she knew she had no need to be. It was going to be OK, if only she held her nerve.

"D'you want me to come in with you?"

"No." she replied quietly, smiling gratefully at the suggestion as she reached to open the door. "No, I have to do this on my own, for Dennis' sake."

"Well, alright. Go do your stuff."

Sharon nodded, somehow feeling more energised by Andy's words. Swinging her legs out so her feet met the ground, she leant back and kissed Andy's cheek.

"Thank you." she murmured. "For all your help. I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Ah, no "if's"!" Andy demanded with a smile. "Look, I said I'll sort this and I will. I'll be back here waiting as soon as, OK?"

"OK." she nodded, pulling herself up and slamming the car door as she hoisted the bag up onto her shoulder. She watched Andy drive off and then turned, blinking furiously against the weak sun and strode confidently up the steps and pulled open the door, anger beating within her chest as she wondered; How did you feel Dad? How did you feel when you walked in here and sold Dennis?

Forcing herself to smile, she walked up to the desk, not even waiting for attention, claiming it instead. "DI Marsden."

The desk sargemt looked up and blinked.

"What about her?"

"I need to see her."

"I'm afraid she's interviewing at the moment."

"I know." Sharon said sharply. "I was there when she made the bloody arrest. Now, do I get to see her or not?"

He straightened up and gave her a quizzical look, eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Sharon Watts."

"Watts.... Mr. Rickman's sister?" he asked, leafing through a record file.

Sharon bit into her lip and looked away.

"I want to add to my statement."

"Right... bear with me a second." He picked up the desk-phone and pressed an extension button, his intrusive gaze never leaving Sharon. But she held her own. She wasn't about to be intimidated. She was going to get Dennis back. "Yeah, I've got a Sharon Watts here, wants to add to her statement... will do." He replaced the phone in the cradle as a knot tightened in Sharon's stomach.

"Well?" she demanded, leaning forward a little.

He gave her a patronising smile as he laced his hands together.

"DI Marsden will be right with you."

Frustrated, Sharon rolled her eyes and turned away, to be met by DI Marsden herself, a thin file in her hand that Sharon had no doubt contained her statement. But right at that moment, she didn't care - she only wanted to know one thing.

"How is he?"

"Fine."

Liar.

"I understand you want to extend on your statement?"

"Can I see him? Please?"

Sharon hated how the woman seemed to feed off her desperation, shaking her head so smugly. "I'm afraid that's just not possible Miss Watts... now if you'd like to follow me, we can get started on this statement."

Heart sunken, Sharon went through the door Marsden held open and sat on one of the beaten chairs. Marsden slid in, closing the door with an announcing click and settled herself opposite Sharon, pulling the chair in towards the table as she pressed the file down onto the surface. Then she removed the statement, in such pristine condition, Sharon somehow doubted it had ever been read.

Her accusing eyes darting back to Sharon with every line she read, Marsden set the paper down once she was done and leant back, folding her arms across her chest, Sharon was not fazed and looked coldly back.

"This is interesting, Miss Watts. It seems to me that you are Dennis' alibi."

"That's right."

"That.... on the night in question... you couldn't sleep, that you left your bedroom when Dennis... broke a glass in the kitchen?"

"Yes."

"And you spoke. According to your statement, Mr. Rickman advised you; "Go back to bed. I'll clear this up." And you're sure it was him?"

"I'm not stupid DI Marsden, I know Dennis."

"Of course you do, I'm sorry. But the thing is, Miss Watts, you say here that you went back to bed. So while Dennis may well have been in the flat with you that night, I'm afraid he's not out of the frame just yet. How do you know, with you in your bedroom and Dennis clearing up broken glass in the kitchen that he didn't get up and leave after that?"

"Because he didn't."

"Are you sure? He might have gone out, say... to the Imperial Rooms. Bumped into his old friend Jack Dalton, bumped him off before last orders."

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Sharon leant forward and murmured; "I'd be very careful how you put things DI Marsden, you're bordering on libellous to my mind."

"My apologies." she replied, raising her palms in defeat. "It's just... you hadn't really known Dennis all that long when Jack was killed had you?"

"He didn't kill Jack, Detective."

"Wasn't exactly well-tempered upon arrival though was he, Miss Watts? I hear Dennis laid into a mutual friend of ours on his first night in Walford."

"Well, you know what they say, you shouldn't always believe what you hear."

"So that's untrue?"

"Oh no, it's perfectly true all right. But you know Phil... perhaps better than anyone... can get right up your nose sometimes. But none of this is particularly relevant and seeing as I'm not under arrest, do you mind if we just get on?"

Marsden smiled. "Of course. I'm rather hoping you'll be able to shed some light on where your brother spent this night."

"Dennis isn't my brother."

The detective guffawed in confusion, glancing again at the statement. "I'm sorry Miss Watts, I'm slightly confused. When you gave us this statement last year, you introduced yourself as Mr. Rickman's sister, Den Watts' daughter yes?"

"Yes." Sharon confirmed reluctantly, refusing to let herself blink as she looked back at Marsden. "But I'm not Dennis' sister. I... I had to say that."

"How do you mean?"

Sharon blanched her lip and glanced down at her clasped and clammy hands, summoning her strength only as she thought of Dennis. "I know Dennis didn't leave the flat that night..."

"But... you signed a statement declaring that you went back to bed."

"Mmmm, I know. And I did. I just didn't declare that Dennis came with me."

Stunned, Marsden spluttered on her words. "S-Sorry?"

"I told you earlier, DI Marsden, I'm not stupid. I know that Dennis spent a lot of time with Jack Dalton when he was younger, and I think we both know that it can't have been any good for him. Only, we're not the only two that do know that. My father does too. Den Watts, Dennis' father. And you can roll off all that rubbish about confidentiality, but I know it was him and Dennis does too. He came in here and tied a few loose ends, suggested his own son was a cold-blooded murderer, and do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because, DI Marsden, I'm not really Den's daughter at all am I? I was adopted, so that doesn't really make Dennis my brother either. And my father, he can't stand what we really are."

"And what is that Sharon? Spell it out to me, what are you and Dennis, really?"

"Lovers, Detective. Dennis was with me that night. In my bed, with me... all night."

Marsden's mouth gaped and it gave Sharon an incredible rush of power. Now she was the one with the smug look.

"Do you mean to say that, on the night of Jack Dalton's murder... you and Dennis Rickman were..."

"Making love? Yes, that's exactly what I mean to say. Now would you like details, DI Marsden or can I sign my statement?" 

And signed it she had. Marsden had gone off, a little stunned to say the least and left Sharon there apparantly calm and collected as she had the new statement drawn up and printed. She had lain it down on the table in front of Sharon and handed her a pen and it was as though she had asked Sharon for an autograph. She took the pen and signed the bottom of every page, only stopping at the last to make sure all the appropriate additions had been made. She had a smile on her face as she signed the last page, with a flourish in the stroke of her pen. She sat comfortably back and pushed the document away, pressing her hand into the table.

"When can I see him?"

Sighing, Marsden pulled herself up, the new statement in her hand. "Not until we can be sure your version of events tallies with what Mr. Rickman tells us."

"Don't worry, DI Marsden, it's not a night he'll forget in a hurry."

Though Sharon's composure did not slip, inside she felt a stabbing of guilt, because she knew her words were true - but only in the face of her lover's guilt - something she had just vehemently denied. And yet, it felt as though she had never done anything more right. She just prayed that Dennis would realise how she was trying to protect him.

"And when you do see him, tell him I'm waiting for him. Please?"

Sure she was never going to comprehend this, Marsden simply nodded. "I'd go get a coffee if I were you - you could be in for a long wait."

And she closed the door, moving along the corridors until she reached the interview rooms, more specifically, number three.

"DI Price? Can I have a word, please?"

He nodded, murmuring to the tape deck whirring at the side of the table; "Interview temporarily suspended at 16:47."

Dennis sat on the opposite side of the table, giving out a little sigh of mocking as DI Price rose. "Not leaving me again, Detective Inspectors? Wow, I'm starting to feel unloved..."

Marsden gave him a tight smile and offered; "Have a cigarette, Dennis, we won't be a minute."

"Can't wait." Dennis returned sarcastically, with a raised eyebrow as he withdrew a crumpled cigarette packet from his back pocket and dropped his lighter on top, more than ready to take Marsden up on her offer.

DI Price's eyes stayed fixed upon Dennis' while he sparked his lighter. Dennis was quietly amused, wondering if he was being expected to set the whole room alight in a temper. Nope, it was all still there so DI Price at last stepped out into the corridor, drawing the door fully closed.

"You're not gonna believe this, but I've just had Sharon Watts out front, adding to her statement. She gave Dennis an alibi when we first pulled him in over this last year. Said he must have been in the flat with her all night because he broke a glass in the kitchen..."

"That's hardly a cast-iron alibi though is it?"

"No..." Marsden mused, only relaxing her hunched shoulders as she let out a frustrated sigh. "...but I think it is now. She says that when she went back to bed, he went with her. She's claiming to be Dennis' lover."

"What?" Price cried out in disbelief. "But... this is Sharon Watts... Rickman's older sister, Sharon Watts?"

"That's her."

"Lovers?" he echoed ludicrously.

"At it all night according to Sharon."

"Is it just me that finds that completely... wrong?"

"Nope. Ten out of ten for originality though! Now we just need to get Dennis to prove to us whether she's lying..."

"Or telling the truth."

Marsden nodded, smirking at Price's grimace of disgust as she opened the door and moved back into the room. Dennis leant back as he watched them both settle themselves, taking a deep and teasing drag on the cigarette as Marsden re-started the tape.

"Interview re-commenced at 16:50. Present are Detective Inspector Marsden, Detective Inspector Price and Dennis Rickman. Now, Dennis, I have to ask, since it is your right, are you sure you don't want a solicitor present?"

"Said so didn't I? Can't stand 'em, make you look like you've got summat to hide when you haven't, bit like you lot really."

"So you have nothing to hide then Dennis?"

"Nope."

"Well, I suppose that was guessable, given that you have an alibi. Oh yes, before I get, message for you. Sharon says she'll be waiting for you. Sweet really."

But at the mention of her name, Dennis flinched, jerkily taking the cigarette from between his desperate lips. "Sharon? Sharon's here?"

Marsden leant forward, her arms folded across the table, over the statement, and nodded. Dennis absorbed this information and began to toke again.

"What's the matter Dennis?" DI Price questioned sharply. "You worried?"

"No. She just... she shouldn't be here."

"Well why not?" Marsden pressed, with a falsfied softness to her tone. "She cares about you. A lot from what I heard."

"And what did you hear, Marsden?"

"Before you were cuffed, she told you it wasn't done. Does she know something we don't Dennis?"

Trying not to make it obvious how his heart was pounding so erratically in his chest, making his breathing difficult and his mouth run dry, Dennis shrugged. "You tell me, you're the one who just spoke to... what did you say to her?"

"Oh, not a lot really. No, Sharon did most of the talking. Very interesting it was. So you tell us, what's not done?"

"What's it gotta do with you?" he snapped defensively. His mind was racing. What the Hell was Sharon playing at? Trying to save him from this when they both knew there was just no way anymore. Not for the two of them together. She was supposed to be living her life, not waiting for him, telling the police God knows what.

But, oh, he was missing her so much. In that moment, he'd have given anything to hold her, just for a second, to remind her that however wasted it was, he loved her. But he couldn't give his nerve. Otherwise he truly had nothing, might as well have been just as dead as Jack was.

"A fair bit if you don't wanna go down for murder, sonny."

"Oh right yeah!" Dennis laughed mockingly, turning to glare at Price. "Cos I'm the only bloke in the whole of London that's apparantly got the motive to do for Jack Dalton? God, you lot are slipping. I'm almost disappointed in you, DI Marsden. Guess this is gonna be yet another year without that promotion, i'n't it eh?"

Marsden smiled tightly. "Well Dennis, I'll level with you... I'm disappointed in you too."

"And why's that?"

"Your alibi. It doesn't exactly put you in the clear, does it? You drop a glass on the floor... Sharon sees you, you speak, very clever. But you tell her to go back to bed. Why would you do that?"

"It was the middle of the night, she was shattered."

"Bad sleeper is she? Well, that's convenient."

"I didn't kill Jack. And neither of you have got a way of proving otherwise. Don't think I don't know what you're going on. You've been talking to my old man. Never did see eye to eye, me and Den."

"Why was that?" 

"He disappeared on Sharon and Vicki for fourteen years. And in four months I knew everything about them he didn't. We were close and he couldn't stand it."

"How close?" Price demanded calmly.

Just for a second, Dennis was thrown. "What?"

"Earlier Dennis, Sharon said to you that you were going to be together "no matter what". What d'you think she meant by that?"

Dennis battled with the lies he knew he had to deliver, because they weren't true to his mind. "We're a family. We're supposed to be together. Not that I'd expect you to know that DI Marsden. You workaholic types are married to the job. It's quite sad really."

"I'll live Dennis. Unlike poor Jack of course."

"Mmmm, tragic isn't it? One less Eastend low-life for you to obsess over. How is Phil Mitchell by the way?"

"I never knew the two of you were such great mates."

"Oh we're not." Dennis assured her darkly, toking again.

"Let's get back to Sharon's statement shall we?" DI Price said firmly, pulling the document from beneath Marsden's elbow. Sharon went back to bed and you cleaned up the broken glass, yes?"

"That's right."

"And where did you go after that?"

"To bed." he replied forcefully. "I told Sharon, I was shattered."

"Hmmm, so you did."

"When you say "you went to bed" Dennis, do you mean, you slept?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

But Dennis didn't answer, instead narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "What are you getting at?"

Marsden smiled. "Are you close to your sisters Dennis?"

"Course."

"You'd do anything to protect them?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"And they'd do anything to protect you?"

"Within reason. Never claimed to be a saint did I?"

"Hmmm, very clever, Dennis." Marsden observed, straightening up. "So is... lying to the police within reason in your family then? Only... Sharon wasn't just here for a cosy little chat. She wanted to amend her statement. And I've gotta hand it to you, Dennis, you have one of the most disturbing alibis I've heard in a long time. Getting your own sister to claim you were with her all night..."

"I was..."

"...in her bed?"

Dennis stared hard, firstly at Marsden and then at the document in front of Price. His cigarette burnt steadily down, singing his fingers and making him wince as the realisation of his lover's lies hit. Oh Sharon...

I found a reason for me to change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you.

"She told you..."

"She told me a pack of lies! Or am I actually supposed to believe that you're having a sexual relationship with your own sister?"

"Look at you..." Dennis hissed. "...already trying to work out your next charge. Incest would sit pretty well wouldn't it? If she was my sister. But she ain't. So try it if it makes you feel any better... cos you ain't about to get me for murder."

Both Marsden and Price looked considerably disgruntled. Dennis relaxed a little, finally stopping shaking even in the slightest.

But then Marsden was struck with inspiration. "Alright." she said smoothly. "So let's say you didn't kill anyone. That in all this, there's just you and Sharon... lovers..."

Dennis stubbed out the smouldering remains of the cigarette, raising his gaze darkly to them both as he muttered; "That's right."

"Then why did neither of you say? If this had gone to court Dennis, both you and Sharon could have been charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice."

"But it didn't did it? And it never would because you've got nothing apart from what Den's told you. And now you know why he has. Now you know why he hates me so damn much."

"Oh I don't think he hates you Dennis. More... concerned for your state of mind. I mean, this can't be healthy can it really?"

His whole face darkened contemptously. "You don't know what you're talking about. I love her. She loves me. That's what he can't stand, that's why he didn't tell you. He just wants me out of her life."

"I'm not surprised." Marsden scoffed in a high and cold tone. "And what about your little sister, Vicki isn't it? If my brother and sister got it on, well, my flesh'd be crawling."

Dennis bit back the pain of those unanticipated blows and said only; "Don't make me a murderer though does it?"

"No. It doesn't. But what we can't understand Dennis, is why neither of you mentioned it at the time. We nearly had you booked for this back then, and, with the alibi Sharon gave us back then, well, she don't seem as bothered as a..." She looked at him, eyebrow risen in challenge. "...girlfriend might have been that her fella's about to be branded a murderer."

"Believe it or not, Detective, we weren't about to go shouting our mouths off about it."

"Why not?" Price asked coolly, shrugging. "If you love her and she loves you, then you're set. What's there to hide?"

Dennis growled in frustration, despairing of such ignorance. "They thought I was her brother. And people are vicious, really judgemental, even strangers. No-one was gonna accept what we feel."

"Then why didn't you put a stop to it?"

"Because you don't just stop loving someone. I couldn't. She couldn't. I need her."

"Yeah, you need her to cover your back!"

"I love her. So yes, I was with her that night, OK? I cleared up the glass, and she went back to bed. I knew she wouldn't fall asleep anytime soon, so when I was done, I went into her room and I climbed into her bed, lying there next to her..."

"Did you and Sharon have sex that night, Dennis, yes or no?"

Dennis blanched his lip, feeling extremely feverish in the face of the question. A battle was waging inside of him. He was trying to feel Sharon, to be certain of what she had said without knowing what was written on that statement. He knew now that her amendments were all lies, to save him, and to prove her love, to prove that whatever he did, the feeling was still there. She wanted him to go back to her. And in his own weak self, no longer able to consider what she deserved against the sheer strength of his love for her, it was all he wanted to go back, to live.

I found a reason to show a side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you.

And he knew that to say that he had slept beside her was not enough. Sharon would have to have pretended she knew in all her consciousness that he had been there with her all night. There didn't seem to be any other way, anything else she could have said.

So, Dennis released a heavy breath, knowing his entire fate was to be decided in this one blind answer.

"Yeah."

"Did Sharon leave that bed at all over the course of the night?"

Dennis could already hear the real question.

Did you stop fucking her long enough to get out of there and go and kill Jack Dalton?

"No. I'll spare your blushes, but no."

And he waited, palms drenched in sweat, breathing dangerously non-existent for some sort of reaction from either detective. It felt like forever.

But then, Price rolled his eyes and Marsden sighed, leaing across the table, finger hovering over the "Stop" button. 

"Interview terminated at 17:02."

Sharon had been sat all this time at the front of the police station, slumped on one of the battered chairs opposite the desk. She kept trying to catch the eye of the desk sargent, just needing to see in his face that she didn't have to wait any longer. But he would never look directly at her and she was kept waiting, close to tears with the anxiety. But she refused to let the droplets form, not while Dennis was away from her, having to be strong on his own.

Oh God, she was praying, praying he realised what she had tried to do to save him. That Marsden hadn't arrived too late. What if Dennis had already confessed, tried to be the better man? Sharon couldn't be too late, she couldn't. What the Hell was she supposed to do without him? Who was she without him?

Besides likely to go to prison herself? The idea terrified her, but right now she couldn't think on it. She wasn't crossing any bridges until she came to them. And she wasn't even going to any before Dennis was back by her side.

"Please!" she pleaded with the desk sargent, leaping anxiously to her feet, heart sinking after the fiftieth time the doors into the corridor swang and Dennis did not walk through them. "You must know something. Just tell me he's alright!"

"Miss Watts... I have no information for you."

"Then find it!" she demanded angrily. "All you have to do is walk in there and make sure he's OK. If you don't do it, then I will!"

She hated so much that he gave her such a patronising look. Her palms were itching to strike it off but she knew she couldn't.

"I'm afraid you can't-"

"But I will. I won't go away, not til I know!"

Reading the defiance in her stormy and frankly maddened eyes, the desk sargent sighed and obediently moved off towards the door, ready to move into the corridor and find the information required to shut this woman up - she was persistent, it had to be said.

Sharon's whole body seemed to heave with the relief and she smiled gratefully, falling back against her heel. It was only hearing the squeak of the door-handle being pushed down that she became animated, her bag sliding down her shoulder, Dennis' phone trilling from inside the lining. She fished it out anxiously.

Andy
calling...

Answer?

Yes! But Sharon's thumb was made to hover over the button as the desk sargent stepped back into the small reception room and called; "You can't use that in here, Miss Watts!"

"Alright! Alright!" she cried out, raising her palm to silence him. She looked up, the phone still ringing in her hand, somehow sounding more and more insistent the longer she left it. "I'll take it outside. Just please... make sure Dennis is OK."

He nodded and Sharon rushed out, having to force all her weight against the entrance door to make it open, having stabbed at the key and raised the phone to her ear already.

"Andy?"

"Hiya. All parked up and waiting."

"Well, what for?" she questioned, craning her neck to search for Andy's sleek car and seeing it almost immediately.

"You, obviously. Well, you & Dennis. I went back into Kensington, your bags are in the back."

"Do you... Do you really think we'll make it?"

Andy sent a gentle laugh shuddering down the line. The truth was, he was as nervous as she was - he didn't know. He simply hoped so.

"Yeah." he told her confidently. "Why not?"

Sharon sighed and pulled the phone back, ending the call as she began to walk, stepping down the kerb and crossing the road with a brief glance in both directions of the passing traffic before she pulled at Andy's passenger door and climbed skillfully down into the seat, twisting to face him and tell him exactly "why not" as she slammed the door.

"They haven't released him yet. I'm... I'm going crazy."

Andy pursed his lips, throwing over a sympathetic look. "Yeah, they like to take their time round here I've noticed."

Sharon groaned outwardly, resting her head in her hands even as she still held Dennis' phone. "I'm so scared..."

"Hey-" Andy soothed, leaning forward to level with her. "Rickman's gonna be alright."

"But what if he isn't?" she demanded desperately, looking up. "What if he's already admitted to it? Told 'em everything they've been waiting to hear? I'm... I'm screwed."

"Why?" he questioned slowly as she tilted her head back against the head-rest, staring blankly at the roof of the car as she blinked back tears she had not yet allowed to fall. "What did you say to them, Sharon?"

"I told them he was with me. And that's kind of true... I saw him in the flat before he..."

"Popped out?"

"Hmmm." She nodded uneasily, biting into her lip, before releasing a gentle sigh in the face of Andy's quizzical look. He obviously knew she wasn't done - that it was gonna take something spectacular to get Dennis off the hook as much as he knew she wanted to. "I told them about us, Andy, me and Dennis. And I... I signed a statement saying we were... together that night."

"Oh!" Andy breathed, beating his hands slowly against the steering wheel. He was impressed. "That's good Sharon, that's really good."

"But what if it's not enough? What if he doesn't realise I've-"

But Andy smiled, tilting his head forward, nodding towards an image outside the window. "I don't think you need to worry sweetheart - look."

She did. And she gasped, not quite knowing whether she believed it, however much she welcomed the sight.

Dennis had just come heavily down the stairs. He looked drained, tired, but oh thank God, he was there.

Sharon shook as she fought to open the door, not registering whether it had closed after her as she raced off the kerb.

"Dennis!"

He seemed stunned to hear her call his name. He looked up, eyes barely open for the way the weak rays of sun poured intrusively down. But he could see her, making this whole miserable day seem a little brighter. But he tremored as he watched her fly across the busy road, no thought to the traffic or how easily she could have gotten herself hurt, or worse, killed. Just for that gut-wrenching second, not knowing how to take any of it in, Dennis felt more sick than he ever had in his life. But as quick as that feeling came, so did Sharon, almost slamming into him as her desperate arms surrounded him.

"Oh..." she whispered, voice shivering as all those building tears fell gratefully. "...oh my darlin', I was so... so..." But she tried to pull herself together, for Dennis' sake. She pulled back, sniffling through the tears as her hands cupped his face and she stared, mesmerised, into his misting eyes. "Are you alright?"

He stared back at her, drinking in the every detail of her face. She looked different, every feature stronger somehow. He owed her so much.

"You told them... about us..." he replied weakly. "...but you lied."

A nervous sound escaping the corners of Sharon's glossy lips that was never quite born into a laugh as she held onto him. "What d'you want me to do? Say I'm sorry? Because I'm not. I need you, Dennis, more than your bloody conscience ever will."

He kept looking at her, his innocent face set in such confusion. "But... you don't know how to lie..."

"I didn't lie." she told him gently. "I just... brought the truth forward a couple of months."

Dennis nodded distractedly, apparantly accepting this. "So... what do I do now?"

"Come with me... please?"

She stretched up and fleetingly kissed his anxious mouth, his lips answering her kiss by nothing more than instinct because when she sank back, he looked stunned, blinking slowly and oh, she suddenly loved him so much more, clasping both his tremoring hands in hers.

"I can't leave the country Sharon, they'll think I've got something to hide."

"No." Sharon said firmly, shaking her head. "Because now they know. Me & you have got nothing to hide anymore. We're going to be together. We have to be together. So c'mon... them planes don't wait y'know."

And she turned away, still grasping one hand as she led him towards the kerb. But he pulled her back and she found herself drowning in remorseful eyes.

"Thank you." Dennis murmured before pulling her hesitantly into his arms and nestling against her shoulder. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I'd never give up on you." Sharon whispered back, more tears slipping from her eyes as she held him tight, pressing her lips reassuredly to the base of his neck, savouring his taste and more importantly, his closeness. "I love you. I always will."

Dennis was so in awe of her blazing sincerity, there was nothing he could say to match it, nothing he could do expect let her finally lead him off the kerb and across the road to Andy's car, even reluctant to drop his hand so that she could move round and clamber onto the backseat from the other side. But she did it, knowing they'd meet in the middle, each of them resting lovingly against the other, never having to let go again.

"Alright?" Andy asked Dennis sombrely, glancing at him via the rear-view mirror.

Dennis shuddered involuntarily as he settled back, only allowing himself to accept his reality in this first true breath since Marsden had so reluctantly told him he was free to go.

"Yeah." he answered, managing a half-smile. "I think so."

"Good."

And Andy did not say another word for the whole of the journey he was giving neither Rickman or his girl choice but to take. Sharon & Dennis themselves were just as quiet, their heartbeats still not right for the fear, the breaths in their lungs never being fully breathed. And yet they were still somehow content. Because they were together and maybe, just maybe, about to escape this Hell, ready to live out their love the way they had always wanted.

But Sharon, quaking still as she fiercely held Dennis' hand, she feared she could not believe it until the plane had taken off, with her and Dennis on-board. She was still so afraid something, somewhere was going to go spectacularly wrong. She felt sick.

Andy, however, had made his promises well, and was swinging Dennis & Sharon's bags out of his boot outside Heathrow by half past five. Sharon allowed herself one breath.

Dennis didn't. Because Andy reached into the lining of his jacket and withdrew a large brown envelope, quite obviously stuffed with cash and offered it to their entwined hands.

"What's that?" Sharon questioned, berating herself for doing so because it was quite obvious, she was just so damned stunned.

Andy smiled. "At last count, it was ten grand. Here..."

But Sharon. eyes shimmering wildly, could not move to either take or refuse it. So Andy moved more towards Dennis, who shook his head.

"We can't take that."

"Why not? It's legit if that's what's worrying you. From the bookies... so most of this is probably yours anyway."

He liked how Sharon couldn't help but smile, her look warm even as she softly said; "We don't need it."

Andy shrugged. "Still want you to have it though. It's not a loan if that's what you think. Call it a leaving present."

He swung it slowly between the two of them as they exchanged bewildered glances, waiting to see which one of them would take it. Dennis' was the hand that closed over it.

"Thanks Andy."

The corners of Andy's mouth rose as he let go, proudly pressing into Dennis' shouldoer. "Good man."

Dennis nodded solemnly and extended his hand. Andy gladly shook it, an unspoken respect passing deeply between the two men as they looked at one another. Andy's hand had barely fallen away when he found it was supporting Sharon, who had thrown her arms around him, murmuring against his ear; "Thank you so much!" He held her cautiously, hating how her voice was swaying, how it was obvious she was crying. But he supposed, at least it was in a good way. He just... wasn't used to a woman's genuine gratitude. It felt nice. "I dunno what I woulda done without you. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now go get on that plane before the cash goes to waste."

Sharon laughed and hastily wiped her tears away. "I won't forget this, I swear."

Andy grinned. "Just keep me on your Christmas card list yeah?"

"Always." And Dennis took her hand as she stepped back and she clasped it gratefully, hoisting her holdall on her shoulder with the other hand, she blew Andy a kiss.

He watched them go with a smile on his face. They'd been through Hell and now, now they were gonna be safe. No-one judging them. They were just gonna be them, and Andy had realised that Dennis Rickman had only ever really been himself in the last few weeks, with Sharon. He'd never believed in this type of thing, but they were meant. Cos there they were, arms round each other, just about daring to smile, to hope.

And Andy was privately very proud of Sharon because he realised, with the emotionally charged call she had deliberately made to her father on the way to the police station to exonerate her lover by any means necessary, she had let Den believe she was alone, that she'd lost Dennis. And no doubt Den was back in the miserable hole that was Walford, smugly waiting for his broken little Princess to return home to Daddy.

And instead, she had been lost to the crowds of the terminal as she tenderly kissed Dennis, in the kind of way that would make Den spit as his son and daughter headed off together into the metaphorical sunset.

Andy moved out turned away from the terminal entrance and went back to his car, feeling the strongest of all smirks curving his lips as he climbed back behind the wheel and started the engine. He couldn't wait to be the one to see just how sick the truth made that miserable old man. It had been a long while since he'd felt the need to really break a man, but oh, he was looking forward to this.

~*~

Andy pulled back into Albert Square at twenty to eight. Sharon and Dennis would by now have been airbourne for a good half an hour. And Andy really, really fancied a drink to celebrate such an innocent fact. He headed confidently towards the Vic, wondering if the atmosphere would be suitable in there or whether he'd have to turn around and head over to Angie's Den, most probably operating with the appeal of a morgue, if at all.

And Andy loved the fact that the club was Sharon's and Sharon's alone. Hers to bleed dry and to use to fund her life with Dennis. There was nothing Den could do to stop any of it. He had no control over his little Princess anymore, however much his blood boiled. Sharon had most definitely made her stand.

Andy entered The Vic exactly as he had earlier that day - practically unnoticed. He smirked privately to himself as he caught sight of a glum and quite honestly, a suppressed little Vicki slumped in a booth. And as luck would have it, her father was leant against the bar, waiting on fresh drinks.

He turned away, a pint in one hand, a tall orange juice in the other. He caught sight of Andy in the doorway and Andy was sure he saw Den's lip curl, which just made the bright smile he gave in return even more sweetly sincere. But Den appeared to have a little composure remaining and he sat in the booth beside his daughter and spoke loudly, most probably for Andy's benefit.

"Look Vicki, stop worrying! She'll be home by tomorrow, you'll see."

"Someone lost a cat?" Andy enquired with a smile as Vicki glared up at him. He felt quite sorry for her really, she'd never asked to be caught up in any of this, but the problem was, she only had her father to blame.

"He's talking about Sharon." she said hotly.

"Oh right!" Andy nodded, slipping into the booth and setting his newly purchased glass of whiskey down on the table. "Still no joy then Den?"

"I don't remember asking you to join us."

"Oh, do forgive me. But I just had to say... that was a good little message your Sharon left earlier weren't it?"

"And how would you know about that?"

"Oh, no reason really. No, I was just with her when she left it. Your daughter's good to you, Den. Told me how you always like to think you've won. She didn't wanna disappoint you."

"She did that the second she took up with..."

"With your son?" Andy finished, amused to see in Den's face how repulsive he found such words. "Oh, I don't think you can call that "taking up" anymore Den. Sharon & Dennis love each other... and you're the only idiot that can't see that!"

"And why would I?" he spat, ready to slam his fist angrily down on the surface of the table. "It's... sick, it's wrong."

"But it isn't. She's nothing to do with him... she's nothing to do with you." Den's eyes flared murderously and Andy drew in a sharp breath of mocking. "Did you feel that Den? Let's try a little lower then shall we? Your little stunt with the filth earlier-"

Vicki jolted and rounded on her father. "The police? Why have you been to the police?"

Den did not answer, he just glared coldly back. "Charged him have they?"

"Not exactly. Last I saw of him he was walking through Heathrow."

Den's face darkened. Oh, Andy was trying not to squirm with glee - this was fantastic!

"You can try beating your way around my workforce Den, but your problem is, this time, no-one knows where Dennis... or Sharon have gone!"

"Sharon went with him?"

Andy grinned, nodding. "Played a blinder she did. Made them see what a pathetic, bitter, jealous, twisted old man you really are. And now her and Dennis are halfway across the world." Draining his glass, he rose slowly, his hand pressed against the door. "And there's nothing you can do about it. But never mind eh? They might send you a post-card."

The End