A/N: To prove that I'm working on the next WHITECHAPEL story, here's a sneak peek. Enjoy

He wished he'd never come. He wasn't the most social person at the best of times but he was Mansell's boss which made attendance mandatory. It wasn't the reception that was all that hard to cope with, he'd been to weddings before, and this was tame by previous standards. It was standing in a small pub, ten feet away from Kent, watching every bridesmaid in the room chat him up, not that he didn't blame them.

It had been four months since they called it quits, and Joe had gone out of his way to prove to the junior officer that they could continue to work together. He knew she would have accepted Kent's transfer request. It would have been the fairest thing, but he just hadn't wanted to lose him, still clinging to the hope that they could fix things.

But as the months passed, that small flame of hope was beginning to dwindle. There were times though, when he and Kent were forced to be alone together when that flame was fanned and oil was added to bring it to life again.

A lot had changed over the past four months, the commander having kept his word. They'd gained a larger office, extra staff, one such in the form of Meg Riley, her name having been put forward by Miles. They'd had a few interesting case over the months, nothing as consuming as the Ripper or the Kray's, but it was enough to have Joe considering bring Buchan on board as a researcher. - Hopefully without losing Miles in the process.

Joe was sat at a table at the end of the pub, alone with his pint. He wanted to leave, couldn't wait to leave, but he knew he had to see this through to the end. His heart clenched tight as Kent staggered towards him. He'd never been any good at holding his drink, as proven at police awards, where he'd drunkenly let slip that he loved him. That had really been the beginning of the end for them. Those three words had led to Joe making the biggest mistake of his life.

He watched Kent drop heavily into the chair beside him and sway a little. He hoped he would speak to him, but instead he lowered his head onto the table, pillowed by his arms and seemed to have passed out. He was awoken a few moments later when Mansell demanded everyone should dance. He looked over at the younger man, wishing not only that he had the courage to ask him, but also the confidence that he would say yes.

Kent sat up straight, looking around in confusion, his gaze meeting Joe's.

"You should go home, Kent."

"I'm…" he hiccupped. "…Fine."

Joe rolled his eyes and glanced over at the party.

"Come on. I'll drive you."

"I'm fine." Kent insisted once more.

Joe lent forward a little. "Em, come on. You're in no state to get yourself home."

Joe stood, shrugging into his overcoat and waited. Reluctantly Kent followed suit, slipping on his jacket and trailing after Joe, out to his car. "He'd only had two drinks and was confident he was safe to drive.

Kent climbed into the passenger seat and slouched against the window. With a warm affectionate sigh, Joe leant over and pulled the seat beat across him. Wishing he hadn't when he caught a whiff of the younger man's cologne. A scent that at one time had hung in the air of his apartment. It had faded away now, and Joe regretted that.

Pulling back, he started the car. They were back outside a familiar red door in half an hour. Joe unfastened the seatbelt and nudged Kent. "We're here."

Emerson moaned. "Hmmm?"

"You're place."

"Oh." he opened his eyes and peered up at the door. "Oh." he groaned. "Why are we here?" he asked sleepily.

"Because it's where you live." Joe smiled.

Kent sat up and shifted towards him, an all too familiar look in his dark brown eyes. "Can't we go back to yours." he brushed his hand up Joe's thigh.

Part of Joe wanted to agree, wanted to take Emerson back to his place and make-up all night, but he knew he couldn't. He knew what would happen when morning came and Kent remembered that they weren't together any more. So he wrapped his fingers around Emerson's wrist, stopping its progress. "No." he said firmly.

The younger man moaned. "Oh, come on Joe. I'm not that drunk." he whined.

"You clearly are, Kent. Or you wouldn't be propositioning me."

Emerson ignored him, shifting to bury his nose into Joe's neck, sweeping his tongue up it, before sucking on it hard. Joe's head fell back against the headrest and he moaned. Go with it. This might be him wanting to get back together. Joe's brain said over and over, as his fingers loosened on Kent's wrist, allowing the man to break free and continue up to cup him through his trousers. Joe pulled his lips through his teeth as he moaned against, his hips arching up into the younger man's hand. His own right hand tightened around the steering wheel, while his left moved to tangle his fingers deep in Emerson's dark curls.

The sound of his fly being opened; pulled him out of his daze and he pulled away. "Em…..Kent, we can't do this."

"Why?" he whined.

"Because…." he swallowed hard.

"If it's about doing it in the car, you could come up. You know Robin and Mark know about us."

"There is no us, Kent." Joe said with a shaky voice. "Remember. You called it off." he didn't look at the man, choosing instead to keep his gaze locked on the car in front.

A/N: I promise to start posting the full story soon. I'm just working out some things.