Notes & Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Armed with a fresh glass of champagne for herself and another for Boyd, Grace began to make her way across the room towards him. She smiled as she noted the light in his eyes on her approach, the group of young women surrounding him beginning to disperse as she reached his side, wordlessly handing him a champagne flute.

"Apparently I'm your knight in shining armour..." She said after several moments, warmth filling her chest at the flicker of a smile playing across his lips.

"Thanks." Amusement coloured his deep baritone as he took a sip from his drink. "I think."

"Always assuming you needed rescuing from beautiful girls fawning over you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Fawning over me?"

She shrugged, careful to keep her tone light, her eyes focussed far across the room. "You know what some young girls are like with attractive older men..."

His smile broadened at her casual use of the complimentary adjective. "Don't tell me. It's some bloody Freudian thing or other."

"Actually, no. I was just going to say they probably thought you were loaded."

"Ouch, Grace."

She turned towards him, a crooked smile spreading across her face. "Sorry. Did I burst your bubble there?"

"Yeah, you did a bit."

"Cramped your style?"

"And any other clichés you can think of."

"You're welcome, Boyd." She paused momentarily to sip her champagne, enjoying the warming sensation in her chest as the liquid bubbled down her throat. "Where've you been, anyway? Stella was starting to think you weren't coming."

His expression immediately darkened, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown and Grace felt her stomach tense in response, the light-hearted atmosphere between them suddenly evaporating. "I had some things to do."

"Right..." He was silent then, elaboration not forthcoming, and Grace knew better than to push the subject further, despite the ache in her chest. She forced a smile to her lips. "Fancy something other than champagne? Spence and Eve are on pints but we could always get a bottle of red, if you like."

He gave a tired smile that reached nowhere near his eyes. "Sounds fine."

They walked back towards the bar then, Spence and Eve smiling broadly as they approached, Grace desperately hoping that their buoyant mood would permeate Boyd's perpetually depressive one. She grinned as the forensic scientist slid unsteadily from her bar stool and stretched up to kiss him loudly on the cheek before standing back to appraise his appearance.

"Nice." She said simply, her dark eyes slightly unfocussed, a vague slur to her voice. "Very nice. No wonder the French girls were all over you."

Boyd raised his eyebrows at Spence. "How much has she had to drink?" He asked, accepting a glass of red wine from Grace with a nod of thanks.

"She has had just enough to be happily tipsy, thank you very much." Eve replied grinning, moving to perch back on the stool, her fingers closing once again about her pint glass. "No more, no less."

"Yeah, and enough for her tongue to be even looser than normal." Spence added, earning him a playful slap on the arm from the scientist and a gasp from her lips.

"Spence, how can you say that? You have no idea about my tongue and what it's capable of!"

The group dissolved into fits of raucous laughter at her innuendo and Grace felt a wave of relief wash over her as she noted Boyd's apparently genuine amusement, his head thrown back as he laughed, his hand moving to clap Spence's shoulder heartily.

"She's got you there, Spence, you have to admit." He said as their mirth began to gradually subside.

Spence shrugged his broad shoulders in concession. "Yeah, yeah, all right."

"What's all the laughter about?" Stella asked, as she appeared next to Eve. "I can hear you lot from halfway across the room."

Eve draped an arm about her friend's shoulder and leaned close to her ear. "Well..." She began, her tone conspiratorial.

"Apparently, it's national make-Spence-feel-like-an-idiot day." Spence grumbled, interrupting Eve as she started to speak.

Stella fixed her expression into one of innocence. "I thought that was every day, Spence?"

"It's starting to bloody well feel like it." He said, attempting a tone of gravity but unable to stop himself smiling as Stella began to grin.

"Anyway, I'm trying to round people up for dancing." She said, hazel eyes shining as she turned towards Boyd. "I take it you're all up for it?"

Grace stifled a laugh as Boyd gave a low growl. "Just because it's your birthday, Stella, doesn't give you the right to take the piss."

Her smile widened. "As if I would..."

"I don't dance. As well you know."

"Well, I most certainly do." Eve announced, sliding from her stool and slipping her arm through Stella's. She held out her other hand towards Spence. "DI Jordan? Can we tempt you?"

Spence grinned. "Absolutely, Dr Lockhart. I'm a dancing legend."

Boyd gave a loud laugh. "Something about only black men having rhythm?"

The younger man's smile widened. "Got it in one, boss."

Stella turned towards Grace, her eyebrows raised in question. "Grace? How about you?"

Grace let her eyes flicker towards Boyd before back to the younger woman in front of her. "Oh, I don't think so, Stella. I'm afraid I've got two left feet."

"Just us youngsters, then?" She replied mischievously, smiling warmly at the psychologist before leading Spence and Eve across the room, Eve squeezing Grace's arm gently as she passed her.

Boyd reached for the bottle of wine, topping up Grace's glass along with his own. She smiled her thanks, watching the small group of her colleagues as they meandered through the crowded room towards the dance floor. She leaned her back against the bar, unexpected thrills surging through her body as she felt Boyd move to stand beside her, his arm flush against hers.

"They've really gelled well, haven't they, the three of them." She began, her eyes still following the group as they stopped to talk to some of Stella's cousins.

Boyd quirked an eyebrow. "I think Spence has the knack of 'gelling' with any women, Grace, don't you?"

She laughed. "That's true."

"But they do work well together, I'll give you that."

"Hmm. I like how Eve just slotted right in..."

"After Felix defected back to the FSS, you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Boyd."

"What?"

"You can't keep them all with you forever, you know. Sooner or later, they're going to want to move on, take promotions, gain different experience..."

He have her a sideways glance. "Anything to do with me being a pain in the arse to work for?"

Grace grinned. "Of course not."

"I'm not a pain in the arse?" His dark eyes sparkled with incredulity as she side-stepped his question.

She fixed him with her gaze, ignoring him. "My point is...at this stage in their careers, you've got to be prepared for the possibility that any one of them might choose to leave at any time."

"You're not making me feel any better, Grace. This is supposed to be a party."

"And you don't want to be concerned with empty-nest syndrome?"

A smile flickered across his features as he took another draw from his glass. "Or psychoanalysis."

She laughed and he turned slightly to face her. "I guess we'll just deal with it as and when the time comes." He said, causing Grace to raise her eyebrows.

"'We'?"

"Yeah. You're not going anywhere, are you?"

"I don't know. The man who runs my Unit is a bit of a pain in the arse..."

He laughed loudly before turning to gaze back across the room once more. "God, I asked for that, didn't I?"

"You're slipping, Boyd. That was altogether too easy."

He let the atmosphere between them settle before speaking again, somewhat sombrely. "Seriously, though..."

Grace reached a hand across her body to gently squeeze his arm before releasing it. "Stop worrying."

"That's not an answer, Grace."

"Boyd." She said, sighing, closing her eyes briefly. "I'm sure I'll be in the Squad long after all the rest of you have left for pastures new. All right?"

He frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

She shrugged. "Well...eventually...I mean...you'll probably move to the U.S, won't you?"

He sighed heavily and let the silence hang in the air, his eyes staring unfocussed in front of him as he pondered his response. "I wouldn't count on that, Grace."

"Well, I wasn't counting on it, Boyd. I just...assumed that would be your next move, that's all."

"You shouldn't make assumptions..."

"Am I wrong, then?"

He sighed again, feeling the tension tighten across his forehead as he frowned. "It's...not as straightforward as all that..."

"No?"

"I don't really want to talk about it, Grace. It's hardly appropriate for a party, is it."

She held up her free hand, her palm towards him. "All right. Whatever you want."

"I'm not being deliberately evasive..."

"What do you want to talk about, then?"

He blew out his breath, frustrated. "I don't know. We could just get drunk and not talk about anything."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "It must be serious."

He looked pained and he squeezed his eyes closed briefly. "Grace, please..."

She looked at him for a long moment, acknowledging the anguish in his expression before reaching back to the bar to retrieve the bottle of wine, emptying the last few drops of the burgundy liquid into their glasses. "Okay." She said softly. "Drinking it is."

Boyd smiled gratefully as he picked up his glass, draining its contents and turning back to the bar to order another bottle. "Shall we find a table?" He asked as he retrieved his purchase, his eyes scanning the room and locating a vacant table towards the corner.