Happy Birthday to me… Where's my cake?

6 years on fanfiction (dot) net = 6 updates. Here's number 5…

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Bill' or the song: 'Fighting Over Nothing' by Dash & Will – check it out on Youtube! It's sunshine funness!

A/N: Sydney's been having unseasonably warm weather for August, especially this weekend where we got a sunny 27 degrees. Oh yeah. So, mix sunshine, my iTunes full of boppy music and a good mood and this is what you get:

Everything…

Songfic
Guess The Pairing!

I've been walking miles and thinking maybe I was wrong
Then I looked around and saw that something's been going on…
All-in-all the night is young, we're gonna live it up and try and get along today…

Hey, it's just not my day…

Pushing her sunglasses higher onto her nose, PC Millie Brown slid deeper into the bench, soaking up the sunshine. It was a glorious day, the birds were out and sun baking her with a beautiful 28 degrees. Millie had relished the opportunity to join the obbo, now seated in the park in shorts and a dark green singlet, and she didn't regret it for a second. Well, she regretted one or two things: The main one being that she hadn't managed to put on any kind of sunscreen before heading out. If their target didn't arrive some time in the next twenty minutes she'd be facing a rather impressive sunburn.

The second was that her suited up sergeant was glaring at her like she had something growing on her face. She rubbed a hand over her cheek subconsciously and turned to look at him. "What?"

"Enjoying yourself?"

Millie removed her sunglasses. "I'm not telling you how this works sarge, but isn't this about looking like you belong here?" He gave her a blank look and she continued. "I look like I'm enjoying the sunshine. You look like an office manager forced outside because you've been overzealously questioning the boss." She gave a small smile and put her glasses back on.

"I'm starting to wish I had. At least then I could've bargained a different PC." She made a point of ignoring the comment. He frowned at her.

"That expression doesn't work on me sarge." She raised her eyebrows above the rims of her sunglasses, not looking at him.

"I remember when you didn't talk back."

She gave a one-sided smile. "There's no point living in the past DS Carter. That was before."

He looked away, turning his attention back to the main entrance to the park. "I think I liked you better before." He didn't notice her glance at him with a warm smile.

*

"His name is Gregory Anderson. We've picked him up a few times on suspicion of handling stolen goods, but without luck. He knows the law and how to get out of it. So, we need to actually catch him accepting the goods, ones we and he know are stolen."

Neil, who stood at the front of the Briefing Room, motioned to a picture of the young man that now sat in custody under charges of break and enter. "This is Mitchell Scuglia. He's admitted to breaking into flat 46, block 23 on the Jasmine Allen and taking a laptop and £5,000 of jewellery. He's also given us Anderson as his on-seller."

He looked around at the group in front of him. Max Carter sat at the front of the room, arms folded and listening with a sour look on his face. Neil had grown used to that look. Beside him sat Grace Dasari, her eyes skimming the information on the board despite knowing it back to front. She was thorough like that. The three PCs they'd pulled into help sat behind the detectives. Millie Brown sat hunched a little, her thumb pressed to her front teeth as she listened. Leon Taylor was leaning back in his chair, arms folded loosely across his chest. Sally Armstrong had her legs crossed, her hands folded on her lap. But all were listening to every word Neil said, determination written across their faces.

"Mitchell has agreed to help us catch him in the act. He's already been in contact with Anderson and he's agreed on a meeting with the teen on the fields at the back of the Whitegate." He glanced at Leon who'd talked the teen into the operation. Mitchell had taken to Leon at first meeting and since then Leon had been able to talk him around to just about anything. But the PC didn't recognise his good work and just continued as if he hadn't done anything special. "Okay, so Leon, you're with Mitchell just in case Anderson tries anything." Leon nodded. "Grace, you and I are at the main entrance to the park on Waterman Road." Grace didn't move an inch. "Sally. I need you at the Whitegate Entrance." The Whitegate Entrance was little more than a small wrought-iron gate. Sally could man it alone. Plus, if Anderson tried anything, it was just close enough to Waterman Road for back-up to arrive quickly. "And Max, Millie." Millie glanced at him, removing her thumb from her lips. "In the park by the waste grounds. The last thing we need is to lose him in there." Max didn't even blink. Millie gave a nod and glanced at the back of DS Carter's head. He didn't register he was being watched. "Okay, that's it everyone. Good luck." Then, with a scrape of chairs and a few murmurs, the team moved off.

Is it work or are we fighting over nothing?
Could you be more or are you too caught up in something?
Because I adore everything that you were
Yeah I adore everything that you were before…

It had been Sally's idea. That helped because it meant if it didn't work then she could blame her friend. But that comment as they sat waiting seemed to prove Sally knew her stuff.

It had started one late afternoon a few days before as they sat in full uniform in a very warm canteen wishing they hadn't prayed so hard for warm weather. Sun Hill wasn't known for it's air conditioning and was cold in winter and hot in summer. And unlike the detectives, uniform had to endure layers of uniform, something that was bothering Sally the most. She was shaking her collar, trying to get cool, but it didn't seem to be working.

"Remind me that I hate summer."

Millie had just smiled. "You said you hated winter six months ago."

"Fine, I admit it, I hate everything. Happy?"

"You get snappy when you're hot." Millie had shot back with a smile. Sally had just dropped her head to the table with a soft clunk and a murmur. Millie leant in to listen and heard 'too hot, want to melt' coming through. She laughed. "You're such a drama que…" she trailed off as the canteen doors snapped open and a figure came walking through.

Sally's head rose as Millie's voice faded away and she followed her friend's eyes to where DS Carter now stood at the soft drink machine buying a can. Her eyes went back to the table as he gathered up his drink and left. "I thought the crush had worn off."

"I thought it had too, bu…" Millie looked up from her moping. "How do you know about that?"

"Millie, I'm your friend, I know these things." Millie nodded, accepting that, as Sally continued. "Plus Mel has a really big mouth!"

Millie gaped. "How many people know?"

Sally held up one hand and pretended to count names off on it, stopping at '7', and then she dropped it and grinned. "I'm kidding, just us girls. So that's me, Mel and Nate." Millie smiled despite the look of self-disgust on her face. "Okay, not Nate, but then he wouldn't know obvious if it danced in front of him wearing only a nappy." She returned to pulling at her collar. "What's the problem? You were never this disheartened about it before."

"Yeah, well, 'before' was before the Jones thing. Since then it's like I'm completely invisible." She smiled and shook her head, hissing a dry laugh. "I sound like a 16-year-old girl."

Sally shrugged. "We diminish back into that shy little 16-year-old often us women. We're pathetic like that." She tipped her head as Millie frowned at the table again. "So, embrace it."

"Embrace what?"

"Well, many things. One, the scheming 16-year-old who won't stop until she gets what wants. Two, the fact he's avoiding you. Three, those two years worth of drama lessons I know you took."

Millie smiled. "I was never that scheming 16-year-old."

"Which is where the drama lessons come in."

"Two years. I'm not exactly fit for a West End musical." Sally shrugged and Millie gave in. "Fine, what have you got planned for me."

Sally tapped her fingers together with a smile, doing a bad impersonation of Mister Burns from The Simpsons. "Listen closely. It will be excellent."

*

He'd lied. He'd never had any intention of somehow getting her removed from the operation. In fact, since everything that had happened lately, he'd been subconsciously hoping for another chance to work with her soon – a realization that surprised him more than anything had before.

In fact, it was his idea for her to man the waste grounds side with him, a chance to see how she was really doing after everything. However, the minute she'd walked into the station backyard earlier that afternoon, he knew she'd changed; he just couldn't put his finger on it.

He'd figured out what it was the minute she started to talk.

Naïve, smiley Millie had gone.

And for the last hour he'd been missing her just a little.

Not that the new Millie wasn't entertaining. The overzealous office manager jibe had been one in a small line of digs she'd been having during the course of the obbo. Strangely enough he found himself amused rather than insulted by them. They were harmless poking and gave the impression of normality between them rather than the strained few moments it had been after the whole Jones business, their last case together.

It was almost… well, he didn't use the word nice so instead he went with easy.

"If he makes a run for it, you're not going to get anywhere in those." Her voice broke his thoughts and he glanced up to find her motioning to his shoes. Leather. Italian leather. She was sporting a pair of worn-out white trainers.

He allowed himself to be baited by her, the desire to play along getting the better of him. "Oh really?" She nodded, lowering her sunnies so her hazel-coloured eyes pierced him. He shrugged. "Okay, let's test your theory. If he runs and you catch him in those… things." She frowned. "I've seen shoes in a better condition than those in skips." She tipped her head back a little, casting her eyes skyward and her sunglasses slipped back over them. "If you catch him then owe you a drink."

"Deal." They didn't shake on it. A large part of him didn't trust himself to take her hand. Instead he just nodded and turned back to watching his entrance. This time, however, he did notice Millie force back a smile. He hid one of his own.

One more breath and I'll take one more step towards the door
You make me want to leave
You drive me up the wall
And I'm so into you but I can't close the door
Yeah
I'm so into you…

"I was hoping I wouldn't hear that." Max muttered as the radio blared. Anderson had become suspicious and, after backhanding Mitchell right into Leon's path, had run off into the waste grounds. He stood, catching sight of the figure as he jumped a small fence nearby. "Fantastic." He groaned openly before picking up pace and making for the fence as well. It wasn't until he jumped over it that he realized he was alone. Millie had disappeared. Ignoring her, he kept his focus on Anderson's figure as the man seemed to notice he was being chased. "Give it up Anderson," Max yelled at him, "we've got the whole place surrounded." But Anderson didn't look at all like stopping, instead just picking up a discarded plank of wood as he moved, clearly arming himself just in case Max's warnings were true.

Millie didn't see him pick up the plank, so when she appeared on the other side of a small mound of dumped rubbish, clearly having gone around to try and cut him off, she took the full force of the swinging wood as Anderson defended himself against arrest. She spun, hit in the arm, and fell unceremoniously. Max slowed to help her up but she waved him away. "Get him, I'm fine."

Max nodded and continued, grabbing his radio. "Accused headed for Wright Road, request assistance."

"40 seconds Max." Neil's voice came through the radio as Max shoved it back in his pocket. But the assistance was redundant because a second later Anderson stumbled, his ankle giving away under him. Max barely registered what was happening before Anderson fell, clutching his foot. Max just stopped, watching him as he writhed in pain.

"Are you alright?" But the question was lathered with humour.

"The bitch winged me." He groaned, rolling around like a diving footballer. Max smothered a smirk and played it straight.

"And by 'bitch' you mean my colleague?" Anderson nodded. "What's she done?"

"She tripped me after I whacked her. I think I've sprained it. Or broken it." He looked on the verge of crying and Max wasn't quite ready to see a large man cry so he put him out of his misery.

"Just sit still, a car will be here in a minute." It wasn't 10 seconds after he said it that Neil and Grace pulled up in a dark blue CID car. They glanced between Max and Mr. Anderson.

"What happened?" Neil frowned, almost accusingly.

"Wasn't me guv, it was PC Brown."

"Police brutality." Anderson called from the ground. Max fought the urge to show him what real police brutality looked like.

"He hit her with a plank of wood, she tripped him, it doesn't exactly weigh up." Max put in, glaring daggers at Anderson. He had no doubt that Anderson was hurt, he wouldn't fall down right in front of a copper otherwise, but he seemed to have gotten worse since he'd established Neil was in charge here.

"Do you see any wood here? He's lying and I've got a broken ankle to prove it. I'll get her for this. What's her name again?"

"It's PC Brown. Amelia Brown. 212." Millie's voice came from behind Max and he turned to see her walking towards them, joined by Leon and young Mitchell. She was holding her arm close to herself, keeping it in the same position. "And a badly injured elbow will easily rival a sprained ankle Mr. Anderson."

"Leon, help me get Mr. Anderson to the car." Neil and Leon pulled Gregory Anderson to his feet as Grace led Mitchell away as well. Max just glanced at the arm.

"Broken?"

Millie just shrugged. "Probably not, but let's not tell him." She smiled, still clutching the arm tight. Max didn't believe it wasn't hurting, but said nothing. "So, who caught him? I mean, I brought him down but you tied the ropes."

"I don't know. For the sake of it, let's just say that I owe you a drink."

Millie smiled. "Doesn't matter. The point is, my skip-worthy trainers outsmarted your Italian leather in the end." She walked past him with a grin and he shook his head before following her back to the others.

Yeah, are we fighting over nothing?
Could you be more or are you too caught up in something?

"So, how's PC Brown?" Grace asked, directing her question at Max.

He motioned downstairs. "She's with the FME."

Neil nodded. "Okay." It had been two hours since they'd arrested Gregory Anderson. The entire way back to the station he'd been threatening a police brutality case against 'the redheaded bitch' but he'd dropped it when his lawyer had told him in the nicest possible way, mid-interview, to shut up about it. Naturally, by the end of the interview, he'd confessed to handling stolen goods and dropped the rant. "I might suggest Sergeant Stone talk to her, it was not one of her smartest moves. It could've gone very wrong." Neil directed his look at Max across the CID Briefing Room table. "Something I'd expect from you DS Carter, not from her." He made to leave.

"Thanks guv." Max muttered under his breath, barely hiding the sarcasm.

"That wasn't a compliment sergeant." Neil left the room.

Max frowned. "How has this turned back into my fault?"

Grace just smiled. "You're her sarge, it's always your fault."

*

Millie stood outside CID as Max left. He glanced at her. "Well done today." He motioned to her elbow that was now strapped. "How is it?"

"Fine, just badly bruised. I'm going for the sympathy vote with the strapping." He shook his head, but it was almost admiringly. "Anyway, you owe me a drink."

He raised an eyebrow. "I said it never actually expecting you to take it up."

"So you're a liar DS Carter?" she teased, hiding a smile.

"No." She kept that hint of a grin up. "Fine, you win, but let it be known," she lowered an eyebrow as he continued. "I still prefer the way you were before." He shouldered his jacket on and started downstairs. With a small shake of her head and her usual, slightly nervous smile, Millie followed.

I adore everything that you were before…