Hello everyone! So I haven't updated this story for the best part of six years. In that time, I met the man of my dreams, got married, bought a house and a puppy! Over the festive period, I introduced my husband to LOM and A2A and watching it gave my muse a good old prodding. I love this story and I always wanted to finish it. So, I dusted my brain down and here is the next chapter. I hope you'll read and review and thanks for all your support!

When I walk back into CID, I feel as though I am walking a bit taller than before. I feel proud of myself for having done it. For flushing the drugs away...for making that choice...for realising that I don't need brown powder. I can live. I can be. Perhaps this won't end up being such a bad trip after all. Perhaps I can be strong. If I can just prevent what I know is destined to happen in two days time...that must be why I'm here.

CID is empty. Mum hasn't returned from her trip to the prison and there is no sign of Ray, Shaz or Chris, but at the far end of the room I can see Dad on the phone in his office, feet up on the desk and, for the first time, I notice the snakeskin boots. He never went anywhere without them and I remember running my fingers over them, marvelling at how they looked and felt. They always seemed so huge to me when I was younger, when I would sit at his feet, when I would worship him...

It is just us...alone...perhaps...perhaps I should say something...anything...I walk over to his office door and stand, watching him through the glass. He sees me, meets my gaze, but doesn't give me any sign, any signal, so I push open the door and step inside, closing it carefully behind me. If I am going to say anything, he should be the only one to hear it.

"Yeah," he's saying to whoever is on the other end of the phone. "Yeah that sounds fine. Yeah, great. No, her mother doesn't know yet." I raise my eyebrows. "Well it'll be too late by then, won't it? Right, thanks a lot." He hangs up and I look at him questioningly.

"Puppy," he says.

"Puppy?"

"Yeah, for our Lucy's birthday next month. Alex doesn't know yet but, oh well."

My breath catches in my throat. My birthday. December 8th. A day that hasn't held any meaning for me for such a long time. I can't remember the last time I celebrated and I often find myself having to think how old I am. Shaz and Chris used to try to make it an occasion, but it was never the same. I want to weep and feel tears spring into my eyes. I remember the conversation, at the dinner table, from all those years ago. I remember it as though it were yesterday... "You were going to buy me a puppy..."

Dad frowns, "What?"

"N...nothing," I stammer. "I'm sure...I'm sure Lucy, your Lucy, will love it."

"She bloody better, cost of the damn things," Dad swings his legs down from the desk and eyes me critically. "I want you to go with Ray and Chris to meet Al James at the Finchley Arms. See what you can learn about today."

"But..." I glance at my watch. "Ray said eleven o'clock."

"So?"

"So it's almost eleven now."

"You'd better get going then, hadn't you?" Dad says, his eyes never leaving mine. "Important meeting after all."

I hold his gaze for a long moment, thinking back over what he had said earlier about protecting me. It was if...as if he knew what I was thinking, what I was all about, why I was here. Maybe I should tell him...maybe he would understand..."You...know?" I ask tentatively.

"Know what?" he asks softly.

"That I..." I pause. How am I supposed to say it? How am I supposed to make the ridiculous seem plausible? I'm your daughter, your Lucy, from fifteen years in the future...you're going to die and I'm here to save you...It is so tempting, because once I tell him the truth, he'll definitely understand and he'll take me in his arms and cuddle me the way he used to and tell me it's going to be all right and...

"Have you got something to say or are you just going to stand there looking like a spaz?" he says loudly and gruffly, instantly pulling me back to the present moment and the task I've been assigned.

"Uh...no," I reply. Now isn't the time. "I'd better..." I gesture to the door.

"Yes," he says, leaning back in his chair. "I rather think you'd better." I turn to leave. "Lucy?"

I turn back, "Yes?"

"Good luck."

XXXX

"Right Lucy-cakes," Daddy says, looking at me across the dinner table. "Birthday next month. What you fancying?" I am so busy stuffing fish fingers in my mouth that my words come out all funny. Daddy cups his hand around his ear. "What was that?"

"Don't speak with your mouth full," Mummy says, putting my drink down in front of me.

I swallow quickly and then take a big slurp of orange juice from my sparkly glass. "Puppy."

"Oh, a puppy," Daddy says, "What do you think about that, Mummy?"

"I think that maybe a puppy isn't a great idea right now," Mummy says. Her voice sounds the way it does when she tells Daddy off sometimes, but she's smiling at me as she talks.

"But I want one," I say.

"I want doesn't always get," Mummy sits down beside me, but she's not eating any dinner. She glances at my plate and looks as though she's about to be sick.

"But..."

"Now now Lucy-cakes," Daddy says, winking at me across the table. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

I giggle and stuff chips into my mouth.

"Yes," Mummy says, looking at Daddy. "I suppose we will."

I look at Daddy again and he smiles at me.

Daddy is going to buy me a puppy.

XXXX

The Finchley Arms is the exact opposite of Luigi's. It's like an old man's pub, thick with smoke and smelling like a toilet. I have to hold my breath when I walk in at first and it takes a moment for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dark and gloomy interior. It took me over half an hour to find the place and that was after having to ask a number of random strangers who looked at me as though I was asking the way to Hell. Funnily enough, I can't help but think they were right.

There are only a few other customers, huddled together at tables, and I am struck by how quiet it is. No background noise, no music, nothing. Eventually, I catch sight of Chris and Ray sitting at a table in the far corner, another man with them, his back to me. They are deep in conversation but, as I approach, Chris nudges Ray and he suddenly stops talking, gets to his feet and hurries towards me.

"What the bloody 'ell are you doing 'ere?" he asks, stopping me in my tracks.

"Dad...the Guv...sent me," I reply. "He told me that I should see what I could learn."

"Did 'e now?" Ray says, in a somewhat disbelieving tone, but showing no sign of having picked up on my slip of the tongue. "Well, we're managing fine on our own, thanks very much so you can do one."

"Hang on," I say, as he turns to walk back to the table. "DCI Hunt told me to come here."

"Well 'e shouldn't 'ave!" Ray turned back. "What in Christ's name was 'e thinking?"

I start to feel annoyed at his tone, particularly when he's talking about Dad, so I thrust my hands onto my hips and get into his face. "I don't know, but he told me to come here to meet Mr James and that's what I'm going to do!" I make to move past him, but he blocks my way. "What are you doing?"

"Look...I don't know what the Guv was thinking of sending you 'ere, but you should go back to the station."

I glare at him. I always liked Ray as a child, but now, as an adult, he is starting to piss me off. How dare he question what Dad had said! I'm tempted to shove him, like I would do with anyone who usually pissed me off. Violence may usually be heralded as the last resort but I've found it quite helpful in the past. "Get out of my way!" I declare loudly, before knocking past him and striding over to the table. Chris gets to his feet and looks at me, wide-eyed, before looking back at the man he's sitting with. "Al James, I presume!" I declare, turning to look at him.

Al James doesn't look the least bit surprised to see me, but when I look at him, I feel a sudden rush of shock and I am transported back to another time, another memory, to probably the only time I have ever see Dad upset. I stare at him and he stares at me, before looking to Chris and then back to me again. I want to scream, I want to hug him, I want to... "Uncle Sam..."

"Sorry," Ray is at my back, "I couldn't bloody well stop her."

He hasn't changed. Not one bit. Not from the last time I remember seeing him, only a few months before my parents were killed. We were at his house, his and Aunt Annie's. They had just had twins...two boys...I remember playing with them...we were all laughing and then...then he was gone...

"This is DC Lucy Hunt," I hear Chris saying and Sam looks me up and down.

"No relation," Ray chips in automatically. "Look," he grabs my arm, "you shouldn't bloody be 'ere!"

I wrench it out of his grip and glare at him. "He told me to come here! I don't know how many times I need to bloody well say it but if you make me say it again I'm going to smack you in the mouth!"

"Who did?" Sam asks, drawing my attention back to him.

I want to say 'Dad.' I want to tell him who I am. If there was anyone I could tell about who I really was, surely it would be him. I want to...so badly... "The Guv," I reply. "He...he told me to come." I sit down slowly in a vacant chair beside him. "You're..."

"How do you know my name?"

"Because I know you," I say, "but you're..." I trail off. This isn't right. He died months before they did. How could he be here now? In this place? At this time? "I don't...I don't understand..."

"How can you know him?" Chris asks. "You weren't 'ere then. How can you...?"

"Shut up Chris," Ray says viciously.

"I'm undercover," Sam says quietly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I 'ave been for a while now." I think back to what Dad had said to Mum about Al James. "He's closer to Donnelly than you are to your knickers." But Mum had said she didn't know who Al James was. How could she not know? "I've been gathering information on the recent influx of drugs. Trying to find a way to stop it."

"What the bloody 'ell are you telling 'er for?" Ray asks. "She could be bloody anyone for all you know!"

I open my mouth to reply, but Sam beats me to it. "No," he says, "she isn't." For a moment, we simply look at each other, his face expressionless and yet... "I have to go." He gets to his feet and drains his pint glass. "Tell 'er what I told you." Then he looks at me again, reaches out and gently touches my shoulder. "Good luck Lucy."

I watch as he leaves...my Uncle Sam...my Dad's best friend...not dead at all, but instead very much alive and, unless I had read him wrong, seemingly aware of why I am here. "Wait!" I cry out, making to pursue him, "Uncle Sam!"

I haven't taken more than a few steps after him when I feel a familiar crushing pain in my chest and pitch forward towards the floor. My vision goes...I can barely breathe...and there are voices bleeding through into my brain...

"One, two, three, four, five...one, two, three, four, five...one, two, three, four, five."

"Nothing."

"One, two, three, four, five...one, two, three, four, five..."

"Still nothing. Come on Lucy, come on! Don't do this to us!"

I twist my body wildly, flailing for something to hold on to, but finding only air. I am falling, falling towards the ground and it hits me, harder than I thought imaginable, knocking all the breath out of me.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

"Lucy?"

"One, two, three, four, five..."

"Lucy!"

I feel hands on me, grabbing at me, pulling at my clothes. I feel sick as I roll over onto my back to find misty shapes swirling above me. My head is pounding...I still can't breathe...I try to call out, but I have no air, no words. This is it...I'm going...this has to be it...

XXXX

"Lucy..." Daddy sits down on the carpet beside where I am playing with my dolls. "I need to talk to you about summat."

I look up and notice that Daddy looks sad. I don't like seeing him sad. I like him being happy and playing with me. Sometimes, he'll play with my dolls with me, but then he always pretends as if he hasn't. I thrust one of them at him, but he just takes it and puts it down on the floor.

"It's about your Uncle Sam." Mummy comes into the room and sits down on the couch. She looks sad too and I don't like it. "There was..." Daddy starts to look even sadder. "There was an accident this morning. Uncle Sam...Uncle Sam was driving..."

"Play Daddy!" I say, holding up another dolly. I really don't like Daddy being sad.

"No," he says, "I need to tell you, Lucy. I need to tell you..." he stops talking and I see that he's crying. I look at him and I don't like it.

"Daddy..." He suddenly gets to his feet and moves over to the window, turning his back on me. I look to Mummy and she gets down on the floor beside me and pulls me into her lap. "Why is Daddy sad?" I ask quietly.

"There was an accident," Mummy says, "and Uncle Sam...Uncle Sam died..."

XXXX

"Lucy!"

Suddenly, I am sitting up on the floor of the pub. Suddenly I am breathing. Suddenly I can see clearly and find Ray and Chris crouched in front of me, their expressions concerned, Chris's hand on my arm. Despite my relief, they are not the people I want to see. I need to see Uncle Sam...I need to speak to Uncle Sam...

"Just sit there a minute," Ray is saying, but I ignore him and pull myself to my feet. "Bloody 'ell...sit down!"

"No..." I gasp, my voice raw and scratchy to my ears. "I have to...I have to talk to him."

"'e's already told us everything we need to know!" He grabs my arm and pulls me back. "We've only got a few hours! We need to get back to the station!"

"But..."

"Lucy!" He grabs me by the arm, turns me to face him and shakes me. "Get a bloody grip!"

I stop, look at him and know he's right. In under three hours, Liam Muir will be making his way to his parole hearing and I need to make sure that he doesn't escape custody. It's the first step to ensuring that he won't be able to kill my parents in two days time. I have to do this...I have to save them...I have to save myself.

"Ok," I say quietly, thinking that Uncle Sam, and whatever has been going on, will have to wait. "Ok."