TITLE: All For Believing part 2
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters blah blah blah. Nor do I 
own Butterfly 9's terrific song lyrics.
RATING: M (Same kinda adult themes as in part 1…plus the usual 
language)
NOTE: This continues on from "living in ecstasy" - I changed the 
title! The series is now known as "all for believing". This part 
gets a little rushed…also the u/c storyline is almost surely 
entrapment in my opinion…*it's not real!*


*   *   *

"Sleep in, did we?" Angie's breath caught in her throat and her head 
snapped up to face the owner of the sudden voice.

"Huh?" She asked, confused. Pete smirked, tapping his watch as he 
leaned over her desk.

"You're late. Even I beat you here today." Angie smiled as she got a 
few things organised.

"Josh isn't well. I'm actually on my way back home to take him off 
mum's hands now."

"Oh, poor kid. So you'll be off the rest of day then?"

"Yeah, it looks like it. I'll see you tomorrow, probably." She 
replied, waiting until Pete turned back to his own desk before 
quickly shoving some paperwork in her bag.

Angie tapped Harris' office door, ducking her head in quickly.

"Luke?"

"Yes Angie?"

"I'm on my way back home now. Josh wasn't well this morning."

"Is he alright?" Harris sat up straighter in his chair as he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure it's nothing. He was just really unsettled and, um, 
rubbing his ears. He's probably just teething again, but I'm going 
to get him checked out just in case it's another ear infection."

"Well, I have no meetings this morning. I can take him to the doctor 
if you need?"

"Uh, no, that won't be necessary. I don't have much on today myself."

"Okay, well let me know what the doctor says."

"Will do." She smiled as she closed the door gently.

Pete watched, intrigued, from his desk as Angie took a rather odd 
detour on her way out of the office. He watched as she casually 
bypassed the electrical equipment, and he watched as she slipped 
something into her handbag, just as she'd taken the papers before. 
He waited until the elevator doors had shut before making his way 
over to the equipment, surveying it only for a moment until he 
noticed what was missing. A wire. Pete's brow furrowed, wondering 
why on earth Angie would need a wire while looking after her sick 
baby. He shook his head, realising what was going on and making his 
way into Harris' office himself.

"I'm going out for a few hours." Pete stated, not bothering to wait 
for his approval.

"And why would that be, Peter?" Harris asked condescendingly.

"I got a call from an informant. They want to talk. That okay with 
you?"

"At this rate, I'll have lost all my staff by lunchtime."

"Why?" Pete asked, playing dumb.

"Angie's taken the day off."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure you'll manage." Pete stated shortly as he left.

*   *   *

Pete's car slowed as he turned into Angie's street, parking three 
doors down from her house. He pulled the handbrake up, lifting his 
sunnies and watching as she entered her front door in her work 
clothes. Her mother's car was nowhere to be seen and Pete was 
certain that it would be at her mother's house, as would her mother, 
as would Josh. His inferences were confirmed as Angie's front door 
opened yet again, revealing Angie in very different attire. Gone 
were the dark slacks and jacket. She was now dressed in a short 
denim skirt and relatively loose-fitting black top, which Pete 
presumed was selected especially to hide the wire. She hopped back 
into her car and drove off. 

Pete couldn't help but follow.

*   *   *

Pete tapped on his steering wheel, checking his watch for what 
seemed like the umpteenth time. He'd been sitting in his car outside 
The Tower for ten minutes now, wondering what the hell Angie could 
be doing in there. After what had begun simply as curiosity, Pete 
was now growing concerned about her. Here she was, playing hookie 
from work, in a strange pub and in rather suggestive attire…what was 
Pete supposed to make of that? He slapped his hand on the wheel, 
deciding to go inside just to check out what was going on.

*   *   *

Pete found Angie sitting alone at one of the bar stools, sipping on 
orange juice. 

"Angie Pangie…" He stated cheekily as he leant on the bar next to 
her. Her eyes widened immediately.

"Peter! What the hell are you doing here?" Angie hissed angrily 
under her breath. "Are you following me?" Pete frowned. This wasn't 
the reaction he was expecting.

"No…well I just-"

"Leave now." She ordered simply, her eyes flicking towards the staff 
entrance.

"Not before you tell me what's going on. I'm getting worried, Ange."

"It's none of your business. Now go." Pete exhaled loudly, slapping 
his hand angrily on the bar before exiting. He paused as he reached 
the door, glancing back at Angie, who's back remained to him. But a 
familiar face behind the bar caught Pete's gaze. Dark hair, green 
eyes, medium stature…Pete couldn't quite place him. He shrugged, 
deciding to wait in his car for Angie.

*   *   *

"You waiting for someone?" The bartender asked Angie as he dried a 
glass. Angie bit her lip in order to stop smirking. `This sounds all 
too familiar', she thought to herself as she smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm a bit early though." He smiled back; that gorgeous 
crooked smile. `Yep, this is him', Angie thought. She paused, as 
though she was thinking. "Sorry, do I know you from somewhere?" 

"No, I don't think so…" He answered before the _expression on his 
face visibly tightened. Suddenly, he *did* remember her.

"Are you sure? You just look so familiar!" Angie cocked her head to 
the side. "You weren't at Ice on Saturday night were you?" He froze.

"Uh-"

"I'll tell you, I was so trashed that night, I didn't think I'd 
remember a thing. But I swear…did we dance or something?"

"Uh, yeah, we might have. I can't really remember either."

"I thought so! God that was a fun night, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was pretty good. Do you want another drink?" He asked. 
Angie nodded.

"Yeah, sure!" She played dumb, pretending not to notice him slip 
around the other side of the bar to get the orange juice, which she 
knew was right under her nose. He took his time fixing the drink, 
and God only knew what else, only raising Angie's suspicions to a 
level she'd never even reached before. 

"What was your name again?" He asked as he handed her the glass 
which she pretended to drink from. She was ready this time.

"Catherine." Angie smiled as she extended her hand over the 
bar. "And you are?"

"Joe." He replied. `Bullshit,' Angie thought to herself. `Your 
name's not Joe…'

"So Joe, you might be able to help me out with something." Angie 
leaned up and over the bar, their faces close and her eyes 
suggestive. "On Saturday, I was chasing for some, um, fun, you know? 
You didn't by any chance help me out with that, did you?"

"I'm not following." Angie leaned closer in response, whispering.

"I was after a pill and I think I got one. I mean, it was one of the 
best highs of my life. You couldn't point me in the direction of 
some more, could you?" She asked sweetly, feeling the wire running 
hot under her top.

"I already have."

*   *   *

Pete waited impatiently in his car for Angie, flicking through radio 
stations but not paying attention to what was playing on any of 
them. He threw his head back in frustration. Who the hell was that 
guy at the pub? Did he have something to do with why Angie was so 
cold to him? Then he realised. The dark hair, the green eyes, the 
crooked smile, running down the alley and into the dark of the night 
while Angie…

"Oh shit!" Pete muttered, heading back into the pub just as he 
watched the barman leading a groggy Angie towards a deserted side 
street.

*   *   *

"You see, last time we were interrupted too soon. Out the back, 
remember?" He whispered to her as Angie's eyes remained shut. "Ah, 
you probably don't. That teeny-tiny pill was just too much for your 
system to handle, wasn't it?" 

Pete watched carefully from a distance, making sure his gun was in 
his right ankle holster if need be. He kept his focus on Angie, who 
seemed to be almost passed out. She lifted her head slightly, 
catching Pete's gaze by chance. She winked at him, letting him know 
she was conscious and getting an admission. Pete nodded in 
acknowledgement as Angie was laid on the ground behind an old shed, 
the barman still whispering to her. Pete had a thought suddenly, 
taking out his mobile and making good use of its camera. He took one 
last photo of the pair before Angie signalled to him from her 
vulnerable position beneath him that she'd gotten all she needed. 
That was enough for Pete.

"Hey, get off her, prick!" Pete bellowed, his loud voice proving to 
be quite a shock to the barman, sending him off balance. Pete 
grabbed him by the back of his collar, dragging him off Angie and 
throwing him against the shed. "You dirty little mongrel, can't you 
understand when a woman says no?" He slammed him even harder against 
the dirty metal.

"No, she…she was asking for it…she-" He stammered nervously.

"Bullshit she was!" Pete yelled as he punched him with all the 
strength he could muster. He fell straight to the ground and made no 
attempt to stand. "That's why you had to drug her, right?" Pete 
shook his head at this guy, lying in the foetal position and 
whimpering. "You pathetic piece of shit. You're under arrest."

*   *   *

Pete and Angie stood on the other side of the two-way mirror, 
staring into the interview room where Harris was sitting with one 
very silent barman.

"That was good work today." Pete said to Angie, still facing the 
glass. "Very brave." Angie's eyes skirted to the side and she smiled 
as Pete did his best not to turn to her.

"Thanks."

"I'm, uh, sorry for pissing you off before."

"That's okay. I'm glad you followed me now." Angie paused, still not 
making eye contact as she reached for his hand. She laughed lightly, 
hearing him wince slightly upon contact. "How are your knuckles?"

"Yeah, they'll live." Pete replied, his voice tight as he entwined 
his fingers with hers, however painful it was. The sound of Harris' 
voice broke their comfortable silence.

*Interview with Patrick Henly commencing at 1.07 pm on Wednesday the 
5th of January. Officers present: Detective Inspector Luke Harris…* 
Harris glanced up briefly at the mirror.

"That's my cue." Angie sighed. "I'll see you back at the office."

"Yeah, we've got a briefing. Ferret wants to have another crack at 
the nightclub bust." Angie laughed, shaking her head.

"Oh God… I'll see you there then." She went to leave, their grasp 
still not breaking.

"Hey!" Pete called, guiding her back to him. "Today took a lot of 
guts, you know. I'm proud of you." He said sincerely, kissing her 
forehead tenderly and looking gently into her eyes. She smiled.

"Thanks." Pete shrugged, smiling as he stated simply.

"It's the truth."

*   *   *

"So Patrick, is there any reason why we shouldn't charge you on, not 
only one, but *two* counts of both administering an illegal drug and 
attempted rape?" Harris asked smugly.

"Yeah, you've got no evidence." Patrick folded his arms across his 
chest, smirking arrogantly.

"Au contraire, Mr Henly. We have plenty." Harris stood, pacing to 
the other end of the table. "And not only will you be facing these 
*two* counts but they will also be in conjunction with offences 
against an on-duty police officer! How lucky for you!" The smirk on 
Patrick's face froze.

"What?"

"Oh, you haven't been introduced?" He paused, staring down at 
Patrick. "How rude of me." At that point, Angie entered the 
interview room. "This is Detective Senior Constable Angie Piper. I 
believe you are already quite familiar with her." 

"Patrick." Angie acknowledged, narrowing her eyes before asking, "Or 
is it `Joe'?" She smirked. He shook his head profusely.

"You've got nothing on me. It's my word against yours."

"Really? What's this, then?" Angie played the tape.

*You see, last time we were interrupted too soon. Out the back, 
remember? Ah, you probably don't. That teeny-tiny pill was just too 
much for your system to handle, wasn't it?* Patrick's face paled.

"There are also several photographs of the second assault taken by 
Senior Constable Peter Church."

"And when I send the sample of orange juice you served me today, do 
you think it's going to show just orange juice?" Angie raised her 
eyebrows in anticipation. "Or maybe something extra?"

"Shit.." Patrick mumbled into his hands after processing what was 
going to happen. Angie threw his file onto the desk, speaking 
complacently.

"Mm-hm. That's what you're in and that's what you are."

*   *   *

"Just look at him!" Pete whispered in Angie's ear as Reg positively 
steamed with anger in front of them, trying to get his drug bust 
back on track.

"I never knew ferrets could have kittens!" Angie whispered back 
before dissolving into giggles. Pete stifled a laugh, catching 
Harris' stern glare. He raised a challenging eyebrow while a 
relieved Angie calmed herself and allowed Reg to continue with his 
scolding.

"Jeez Ange, how dare you *almost compromise* his operation by almost 
getting yourself raped?" Chris commented sarcastically after Reg was 
gone. Angie smirked as she retreated to her desk.

"Yeah, how could I be so selfish?" 

"Hey," Pete began as he moved closer to where Angie stood after 
everyone else left. Nothing had happened between them since their 
brief kiss after the hospital, and she smiled at the ease and 
comfort of the way Pete's hands settled around her waist. "I still 
owe you that drink, you know."

"What drink?" Angie asked, tilting her head away from his in slight 
confusion.

"From the club."

"Oh, *that* drink…" 

"You busy tonight?" 

"I am now." Angie replied, smiling.

"Good. I'll pick you up at 8 then?"

"Sure."

*   *   *

They walked home late that night, chatting animatedly in the mild 
night air. Both Pete and Angie had had a bit to drink, sometimes 
having a little trouble placing one foot in front of the other, but 
all in all, genuinely enjoying the other's company. The dynamic 
between them had changed lately and they each knew that there was no 
going back from where they were headed. But neither of them wanted 
to go back.
      
"So how did you find the bastard?" Angie smiled as Pete's arm 
settled over her shoulder.

"Mum and Dad took Josh and I out for dinner to The Tower one night 
and I saw him serving behind the bar. I nearly died!" She exclaimed, 
leaning closer into him.

"So what'd you do? Just piss-bolt out of there?"

"No, I found out his name and looked up anything I could about him 
the next day at work!" Pete nodded

"Ah, clever girl. I would've kicked the shit out of him." Angie 
burst into giggles.

"You just did. But come on, as if *I* could have taken him on!" She 
shook her head. "You boys only ever think with your-"

"Fists?" Pete interjected. Angie laughed as they approached her 
house.

"Yes, that's it!" She paused, growing serious for a moment as they 
stopped walking. "Thanks for tonight, Pete."

"It was my pleasure."

"No, Pete, I mean it. I really appreciate the fact you've always 
been there for me whenever I needed you." Pete's face softened and 
he turned to face her, moving his hand from her shoulder to stroke 
her hair.

"Ange, I always want to be here for you. I thought you knew that." 
He told her genuinely. Angie found her lips curling at their edges 
as his fingertips traced her jaw gently and she moved closer to him. 

"I do now."

Pete's lips found hers easily, kissing so softly and tenderly that 
Angie felt her knees weaken. She wrapped her arms around his neck as 
his moved to her waist, holding her close to him as the kiss 
deepened. Their embrace lasted quite some time, before Angie pulled 
away first. She smiled as Pete brushed her hair out of her eyes and 
behind her ears.

"Night, Pete." He too smiled, leaning in and pecking her lips 
lightly.

"Night Angie-Pangie." 

*   *   *

Pete tapped his finger lightly on his steering wheel as he drove to 
work the next morning. The roads were deserted and Pete couldn't 
work out whether he was very early or very late. He smiled, not 
caring, simply content in knowing he was going to see Angie in a few 
short minutes. He'd had a good night and could tell she had as well, 
Pete thought as he approached the familiar intersection. He slowed 
as the brakelights of the shiny Alpha Romeo 147 flashed in front of 
him, lost in his thoughts momentarily. But reality came crashing 
down on him in the form of the unforgiving sound of crunching metal.

"Shit! Oh shit!" Pete exclaimed, slamming on his brakes about five 
seconds too late. The stationary Alpha in front of him had already 
stopped his car from moving. "Bloody hell!" He muttered, gritting 
his teeth as he stepped out the door to inspect the damage. The 
breath he drew in stopped short as he saw the front of his 
car. "Jesus Christ!" He cried, repeatedly slamming his hand against 
the Alpha's equally crushed boot. "It's called a Give Way sign 
sweetheart! You don't have to come to a *complete* stop!" He yelled 
out patronisingly.

"You do when it's a *Stop* sign, you moron!" An angry, yet vaguely 
familiar, voice called through the Alpha's open window. Pete 
smirked, ready to retaliate when the Stop sign before him caught his 
eye. He did a double take. He'd driven this way to work a million 
times – it had always been a Give Way sign!

"Oh crap…" He mumbled as her car door opened and she jumped out. 
They each froze.

"Oh my.." She trailed off as her eyes widened.

"Shit, Mac?" Pete asked in disbelief.

*~*~*
I am lost for words, thinking about the times that we once shared
You and I and our world, left in the memory I'd left for dead
We were closer than blood 
And now it's so strange, the distance resides where love once was
*~*~*

"Peter." She stated, stunned, folding her arms across her 
chest. "Wow."

"Yeah…how-how've you been?" Pete stammered, neither of them moving 
yet. Mac nodded lightly.

"Yeah, good. How bad's the, um, damage?" She moved closer to where 
he was standing.

"Uh, kinda bad. Body work, mainly. Expensive." He managed as she 
inspected it herself.

"Bugger…" She cursed, her eyes finally catching his. Mac managed a 
half smile, her arms still folded protectively in front of her.

"So, what are you doing with yourself these days?" Mac shrugged, 
shifting her weight awkwardly.

"I'm not in the cops anymore, if that's what you're asking." She 
stated flatly and Pete nodded lightly in response.

*~*~*
I am lost for words, thinking about the love that we once had
But so many times, I wished I could take back everything I said
I could hold onto this 
Close my eyes, dream, and picture the things I miss
*~*~*

Pete's lips mused a faint smile as they watched each other in 
silence. She looked great, he thought. It wasn't just the dark, 
straight-legged jeans, or the casual-but-classy Calvin Klein jacket, 
or the light, fresh make-up. Mac looked younger, more relaxed. 
Happy, Pete concluded as he reached his hand out to her, catching a 
lock of her almost shoulder-length hair between his fingers.

"Your hair's longer." He said with a smile, before adding, "It looks 
good."

"Thanks." Mac whispered as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. 
Embarrassed of her reaction to his touch, she reached up, removing 
the hair from his grasp and tucking it behind her ear. It was only 
then that something on her finger caught Pete's eye. Something 
glistening on her left hand's ring finger. And most probably the 
reason she looked so happy.

"You're, uh, married?"

Mac's brow creased momentarily before realising he'd seen her finger.

"Oh, um, engaged." She replied, casting her eyes down as she 
refolded her arms. Pete nodded, forcing a smile.

*~*~*
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight
Say your prayers and turn out the light
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight
Know that you'll always be alright
*~*~*

"So who's the lucky guy?" Mac smiled at his attempted happiness, 
ignoring the fact she could see straight through it.

"Um, his name's Mike, actually." Their forced enthusiasm at the 
coincidence only made the silence that followed even more 
uncomfortable, especially for Mac. "I should really get going." Pete 
nodded, not phased by her abruptness. Not yet, anyway.

"I'll give you my number and we'll work out damage costs and 
insurance stuff later."

"No, Pete it's fine. We can just pay our own way, don't worry about 
it." Mac stated, the previous warmth in her voice no longer apparent 
as she headed back to her car. Pete shook his head, following.

"No, that's not fair. I back-ended you, I'll pay for yours. Here, 
what's your number?" He insisted.

"No really, Pete. It was, um, good to see you again. Take care." 

And with that, she drove off.

"You too." Pete mumbled, his voice deflated as Mac just walked away 
all over again.

*~*~*
What am I going to do?
Tell me you'll be alright.
*~*~* 


TBC...