Authors note: Okay kids, it's definitely been a while, but the DVDs
have inspired me to pick up my long-lost pen and continue to dabble in
the lives of our favourite undercover unit! This fic is set after the
final episode of season 1 "Dead Man's Throw". It's
actually a series of fics set out like episodes; parts 2 & 3 are
two-parters. As per usual, my writing is *very* Mac and Peter based! I
should also point out that all fics are named after the song lyrics used
in them, just in case you think they're a bit random.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own these characters
`yady-yada-yady-yada-ya...' (don't own that quote either!).
Also, the title of the fic is from the song "Fair" by Remy Zero
and all lyrics used are theirs to claim also.

Rating: M/MA…whatever Stingers is I suppose. Usual adult themes,
language etc all present.

*

Part 1: Fair

*

"Yeah, mate. Okay, we'll see you in an hour," Oscar hung up
his mobile phone and looked up into four expectant faces. "It's
on!"

"Okay, Oscar, Angie, get wired up. Mac and Church, set up the van,
you'll be taking that. I'll ride with the drug squad boys.
Let's get moving," Bernie stated quickly, moving into his office
to inform Drug Squad, who had probably been waiting by the phone all day
for this call.

*

Almost an hour later, an inconspicuous Budget Removals van sat in Grey
Street, adjacent to Darren Harvey's modest St Kilda apartment.
Church sat beside Mac, tapping his pen absently and staring at a blank
pad of paper. Mac shifted awkwardly in her seat, immediately knowing
what – or rather whom – he was thinking about, but not knowing
what to do or say.

It had been a month since the shooting death of Christina Rossi and
Peter had thrown himself back into work for reasons Mac had thought she
understood, but of recent months, Peter had proven himself as anything
but readable and predictable. For all they had shared, Mac knew she
should be the one to reach out to him, but then again, all that they had
shared complicated things further. She sighed lightly, a noise so slight
that Peter didn't at all notice it, and stared down at her hands.

"How are you going, Peter?" Mac's voice was gentle, so that
only one who knew her very well could detect her nervousness as she said
his name.

~

Hey, are you lonely?
Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground and that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
Where'd you go?

To me?

~

Peter grunted, shrugging his shoulders as he tossed the pen onto the
paper in front of him. His eyes remained low, not noticing the brief
moment when Mac risked a glance his way before concentrating on the
monitor before them. They watched Oscar and Angie pull up in a bomb of a
car that backfired more efficiently than it accelerated. It was,
however, worth a great deal more than it looked – namely because of
the bag of cash in the boot. Pete smirked lightly, grateful for the
distraction they provided from his guilty psyche.

"What a pretty couple," He stated flatly, referring to his
fellow operatives, to which Mac smiled. Acid wash denim, flannelette,
dirty unkempt hair – they certainly looked the part of low profile
heroin dealers, recently relocated to Melbourne.

Harvey welcomed them at the door, looking every bit stuck in the
80's as he had every other meeting. His faded brown mullet
complemented high waisted jeans so fitted, he had difficulty walking
just to the front door and back. He and Stone had built up such a
rapport over past months that he had even been introduced to his
`girlfriend', who seemed to hasten the deals purely because of
Harvey's keen desire to impress her.

"Mick, Kim, how are yous?" He greeted them, leading them through
to the living room.

"Good mate, good. How are you going?" Stone enquired, making
himself comfortable on the familiar couch, Angie beside him.

"Can't complain," He flashed them a toothy grin.
"How's the house hunting goin'?"

"Yeah, so-so Daz," Angie replied, nestling under Stone's
inviting shoulder. "We'll have a bit more dough to work with
after today."

He smiled proudly, practically batting his eyelashes.

"Glad to be of assistance, sweetheart."

"So is the stuff here, mate?" Oscar asked, waiting for his
suspicions to be confirmed. For months they had been vying for
Harvey's supplier, but hadn't been given the opportunity to meet
with them yet. God knows they had pushed for it.

"Nah, mate. Still waiting on a call to get it. Sit tight,
shouldn't be too long."

*

"Better bloody not be," Peter added, leaning back in his chair
in the van.

*

Harvey sat of the edge of his couch, tapping his foot nervously on the
carpet. Oscar and Angie glanced at each other quickly, noting how on
edge he was. Probably due for a fix, they silently concluded, for this
guy was pushing about $300 a day up his arm. They had no doubt he was
skimming money from his role as a go-between amid them and the suppliers
– they were virtually feeding his habit. That's why they had to
get this buy-bust over with. For good.

He leapt up as the phone rang, scrambling to the kitchen to answer it.
They strained to hear what was said, but only made out the occasional
"yep" from their end. So the suppliers were calling the shots.

"Let's rock and roll kids. Mick, we can take your Mazda,
yeah?"

"Hang on, where are we going?"

"Out, mate."

"Can't we do it here?" Angie piped in.

"Sorry Kimbo, what Frank says, goes," Stone frowned in
frustration. The whole apartment had been fitted out with listening
devices and cameras in Harvey's absence. Who knew where the hell
they were going to go? And who the hell was Frank? The supplier? At
least they were wearing wires.

"Well, where does Frank say we go?"

"I'll tell you on the way. Come on!"

*

"All units be advised, the target is on the move. Destination
unknown as yet, follow at a discreet distance," Mac said into the
radio, leaning back into her chair. She glanced over at Peter, who
seemed to be doodling on the paper in front of him, clearly distracted.
Mac sighed to herself, knowing she would have to talk to him about
things sooner rather than later.

"Target vehicle heading north along St Kilda Road," The radio
cackled before them.

"Okay, maintain surveillance but don't let yourselves be seen.
The target seems jumpy enough as it is."

"Copy that."

*

"What are they doing?" Mac frowned at the GPS screen, watching
as the dot slowed.

"They're in the bloody Botanical Gardens parking lane!" Pete
noted. They looked at each other, each knowing just how difficult this
bust was going to be to orchestrate.

*

"Okay Mickey-boy, here's fine," Oscar parked the car,
yanking up the hand break angrily.

"Daz, what is this? How the hell are we going to do this deal with
all these bloody tourists and school kids hangin' around?" Oscar
demanded.

"Look, he's just a cautious bastard. Likes wide open spaces, you
know. Come on, get out."

"I don't like this. Kim, wait in the car with the cash,"
Angie nodded, watching as they headed through the gate and into the
gardens.

"Guys we're outside Gate 6 of the Botanical Gardens. Stone and
Harvey are meeting the supplier who has been referred to only as Frank
in there. I'm waiting in the Mazda," She said, seemingly to
herself, but in reality keeping the others informed. In the rear view
mirror, she swore she saw Bernie's vehicle parked a few cars behind.

*

"Here'll do mate," Harvey stopped beside a tree.

"Now what, Daz?"

"Now we wait," Harvey resumed the foot tapping that he had
continued throughout the entire car trip, his fingernails compulsively
scratching the skin on his exposed arm. He looked pale.

"You right, Daz?"

"Oh mate, you know. Hey I was thinkin', maybe I could test the
stuff out for you when we get back to the car?" Stone shook his head
immediately. It was a request he often got from Daz, especially when he
was in a state like this. Stone just didn't understand why people
did shit like this to themselves.

"Come off it, mate. Me and Kim already have testing equipment back
home."

"Just a little bit, I'll pay ya for it and everythin'…"

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see, alright?" Stone answered vaguely,
knowing they'd never actually get back to the car with the heroin.
He'd give the signal before money even changed hands, if possible.
Less messy.

Within minutes, two well built men in dark jeans and poorly fitted
t-shirts approached.

"Daz," The slightly bigger one – Frank? – stated
gruffly. "Who's ya mate?"

"This is Mick."

"You got the money, Mick?" He spat out his name as if it tasted
horrible.

"Yeah mate. 50 grand, as promised."

"Let's see it then."

*

After showing them the bag of money in the boot of the car, the big guys
proceeded to lead Stone over to another car parked maybe five along from
where Angie, Daz and the Mazda remained at the suppliers'
insistence.

"So where's the gear?" Oscar pushed once they reached the
car. The smaller big guy flashed him a dirty look, opening the boot and
threw him a brown paper bag. Stone opened it quickly, peering inside and
smirking.

"The real McCoy, ey?"

The signal. The moment when cops spring from the bushes, grab the bad
guys and give Stoney a big pat on the back for his efforts. Or when they
were supposed to, anyway.

The still silence around him made Oscar heart jump into his throat. He
had to stall.

"So this stuff's pure?" The bigger big buy, Frank they
presumed, stared at him as if Stone had just asked if he could sleep
with his mother.

"Yep."

Still no one. He had to keep pussyfooting around.

"So how many times do ya reckon I can cut this, then?" Frank
glared at him again, as if the request was for his mother and his sister
this time.

"Dunno. Twice and it'd still be better than the shit on the
street now," He was sick of this guy now. "You've got the
stuff, now let's get the money," He grunted firmly, narrowing
his eyes and fronting up against Oscar.

*

Angie watched on from the little yellow Mazda. She saw the heroin in
Oscar's hand – what was going on? Surely Stone had given the
signal – wasn't everybody supposed to be arrested already? She
tried to glance inconspicuously in the rear-view mirror without Daz
noticing, searching for Bernie and the others. Nothing. She squinted in
angst, watching the exchange between Oscar and the suppliers. God, she
prayed they weren't armed. She knew Oscar was, but if he kept
stalling, they'd snap. They already knew where the money was.
She'd never forgive herself if anything…

*

Stone swallowed nervously before hearing the familiar cries of:

"Police! Keep your hands where we can see them!"

Relief washed over Stone as he felt Bernie cuffing him loosely behind
his back, each of them pausing in disbelief. The man assumed to be Frank
was thrown onto the ground and easily cuffed, but the other guy took
off, running straight for the heavy traffic of St Kilda Road. He ducked
and weaved in and out of cars, trams and pedestrians; two of
Victoria's finest on his tail. They caught up with him on the other
side of the motorway, tripping as he misjudged the stoop of the
footpath. He survived six lanes of zooming traffic and two gun wielding
cops to trip over a gutter. A true idiot until the end.

Stone laughed unintentionally as Bernie smirked at the Gaul of the guy.
His laughter was instantly silenced upon seeing Daz with his hands
cuffed behind his back, his face awash with betrayal. Angie looked
shameful, her eyes cast down. Months and months of befriending this
pathetic junkie, and it was now plain as day he knew he'd been set
up; played for a fool.

"Shit.." Stone mumbled as he was lead into the police car and
driven away, Angie by his side.

*

Peter threw off his headset, rubbing his face in exhaustion, his heart
still thumping with adrenaline.

"Whatever happened to a straightforward buy-bust?" He asked
incredulously, spreading his arms as he spun on his chair to face Mac.
She grinned, also relieved, and even more so when she caught that
familiar glint in Peter's eye.

~

But you're alive
Well, it's only fallen frames, they told me
You stand out, it's so loud and so what if it is?
It's cold as you face into the wind
Where'd it go to?

Tonight the sun shall see its light

~

The old Peter Church was still lurking under there somewhere, Mac knew
it. It was now a matter of getting him out to stay.

*

"That was great work guys, well done," Mac congratulated Angie
and Stone upon their return to the factory.

"What the bloody hell happened? Why weren't there cops all over
us when I said the signal?" Stone asked, not appreciative of the
waiting game. Mac looked pointedly over at Bernie. He was the one in the
car with them. He sighed.

"Drug squad were a bit too cautious."

"Gee that's a change," Mac scoffed "they're usually
the over-zealous ones!"

"Yeah, charging in, guns blazing…" Angie added.

"They wanted to be sure this time," Bernie shrugged. Stone
exhaled loudly in disbelief.

"Sure? What, they wanted a corpse, did they?"

"Alright, alright. That's enough. We had a win, be happy with
that," Bernie stated before heading up into his office. Peter was
already moping around near the lockers, something which had caught
Mac's eye moments ago.

"Yeah, what a win," Angie said sarcastically, her mind still
with Darren Harvey. Oscar met her eyes sympathetically, resting a hand
on her shoulder.

"I know."

"Talk about the shitty side of undercover work, hey? Daz just looked
so…betrayed," Angie sighed, leaning up against her desk. Oscar
moved beside her.

"Poor guy," He said flatly. They stood there for moments in
silence, feeling the true pangs of guilt set in. "Hey, you wanna get
a drink? Or five?" Angie cracked a smile.

~

So what if you catch me, where would we land?
In somebody's life for taking his hands
Sing to me hope as she's thrown on the sand
All of your work is rated again
Where to go?

~

"We can't socialise together, remember? It's against the
rules," Oscar shrugged.

"Not if we drink them here," Angie's eyes glistened as she
looked up at him.

"Okay, you're on!"

*

Mac hung nervously in the doorway, watching Peter sitting on the bench
in the locker room, lost in his own thoughts. He knew she was there
– they both had been for some time – but he chose not to
acknowledge it. He wasn't in the mood.

"You want to talk?" She urged herself to ask, finally breaking
the silence barrier. Peter grunted, standing and pulling his car keys
from his pocket.

"Not really," He brushed past her in the doorway, and she
flinched as his hand ran unintentionally across her waist. "See ya
later."

"Yeah, see ya," Mac whispered to herself. He was already gone.

*

"I just feel so terrible. It's not like he was a big time dealer
or anything," Angie sighed, staring into her beer bottle. Bernie and
the others were long gone – only her and Stone were left.

"Just a desperate bloke who got mixed up with the wrong people,"
Oscar concluded, taking a deep sip from his bottle. He was already on
his fourth; the malaise of the afternoon beginning to slowly wear away.

"Yeah…us," She added dimly. He shook his head.

"Nah, he already had the contacts. It was only a matter of time
before he upped the anti a bit. He didn't really seem greedy, but
you know, he was skimming all that money. He was using us as much as we
were using him," Angie watched him for a moment, his brow furrowing
as thoughts rushed in and out of his head. She knew him so well, she
felt like she could see those thoughts; hear them; feel them herself.

"Justifying it still doesn't make it any easier, does it?"
She said, summing up his thoughts. She took another sip. "He trusted
us," Stone sat there for a moment, allowing himself to feel her
words simmer before speaking again, his voice animated with ponderous
passion.

"You know, you do this job. You do all the leg work, all the scummy
stuff. You get the bad guys and it feels…great," He paused, the
effects of alcohol appearing in his speech. Angie frowned, cracking open
her fourth drink.

"But that didn't happen. Daz wasn't a bad guy and I
don't feel…great about what we did. I feel pretty rotten,"
She articulated slowly. Oscar nodded mid-drink, moaning in agreement
before he'd even swallowed.

"Mm, that's what I'm saying! You have to take the good with
the bad in this job. You have a good day, a few good days, then you have
a bad day. It's all part of the…" Oscar held his hands out,
raising his hands up and then down like a scale "balance!" He
concluded, to which Angie burst into giggles.

"Balance?" She repeated through her infectious laughter, Oscar
involuntarily joining in.

"What? It's a balance!"

"I know, I know!" Angie exclaimed, chuckles ensuing for moments
before eventually dying down. "It's good to talk about these
things, you know?" Stone nodded.

~

And you were somehow the rain this thing could allow
Could try but it's all wrong, you're so strong
And this life and work and choice took far too long
Where'd it go?

~

"Yeah, you sort of forget that we all go through the same
stuff."

"Well, I like talking to you about all of it," Angie added,
sincerity evident in her voice. Oscar smiled.

"Me too," he agreed, reaching out and touching her cheek. She
smiled instantly at his touch. "We're on the same wavelength,
you and me."

"Yeah. Yeah we are."

*

Mac sat in her car, her head resting against the closed driver's
side window. It was a cold night and the windows were starting to fog
up, but she didn't care. One of the perks of living in Melbourne,
she thought dimly.

She'd come to check up on Peter but he hadn't been home. So
she'd gone back to her car and waited, thinking he'd return
soon. An hour and a half later, she was still waiting.

It was times like this she'd kill for a cigarette. Or a deck.

Mac felt silly, but it was something she knew she should do. That
man…that man meant so much to her and here he was – in pain,
struggling and sinking into a hole so deep it would eventually be near
impossible to pull him out. She owed it to him, hell she owed it to
herself, not to let that happen.

`You sound like a worried parent'. Bernie's words echoed in
her head. She smirked to herself – if only he could see her now.

Sure, she'd been angry at him of late. Furious even. When he decided
he was going to give up everything he'd worked his entire life for,
all for a woman he'd only just met, Mac couldn't believe it.
Wouldn't believe it. Was it disbelief? Or fury? Or even jealousy?
Probably a combination of all three, she thought.

When Christina died, Pete had returned to the unit within a week,
probably just to keep his mind busy; off the inevitable. But Mac could
see that his heart wasn't in it; he was just biding time; wasting
away his minutes in the hope that with them, the pain would go away. She
hated to see him like that – the usually vibrant, gregarious Peter
Church had turned into an empty, reticent person who Mac didn't even
know. They had shared so much together, and yet they'd barely shared
five words since it happened. Mac wanted so desperately to help pull him
out of this mess.

The longer she sat in that car, the more determined she was to wait it
out.

*

Mac's eyelids fluttered open as bright headlights flashed in her
eyes. Peter poured himself out of the taxi as it pulled up outside his
block of flats, stumbling backwards while he yelled inarticulate
obscenities at the driver. He was drunk – certainly not the best
case scenario for Mac's planned miracle working. She took a deep
breath, moving swiftly across the road as the taxi sped away. She
stopped short, watching Pete take staggered footsteps towards his front
door. Sighing, she composed herself before approaching him.

"Peter," He spun around, staring straight through her for a
moment before turning around again. "Peter," Mac repeated, more
insistent this time, resting her warm hand on his chilled forearm. Pete
heaved.

"What are you doing?" He whined, trying to face her by leaning
on one leg. He misplaced his weight, stumbling into the wall behind him.
Mac reached forward, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," Peter scoffed, rolling his
eyes. "I just want to help, Pete."

"Help?" He leaned in close, his voice low and his eyes fixed on
hers. He was so close she could smell the alcohol in his breath; so
close she could almost taste it. "I don't need your help,"
He said each word slowly, individually, comprehending neither their
emphasis nor their profound effect on Mac. She hid it well.

He fumbled with his keys; two failed attempts at fitting in his car key
into the lock before they slipped from his grasp. Mac surpassed him
halfway down, picking them up for him. She slid the house key into the
lock, turned it with ease and opened the door.

"Come on, Pete."

Mac guided him through the threshold and into the modest flat. She was
beginning to realise just how drunk he was and, judging by the state of
his place, how drunk he was most nights. It certainly explained his mood
swings at work, if anything. He swayed as he walked through the living
area, brushing up against the doorway to the bedroom but not letting it
alter his path. Mac watched as he flopped backwards onto his unmade bed.
Is this how he ended up most nights? She shook the thought from her
head, kneeling down by his feet and removing his shoes. He groaned at
the recognition of human touch.

"I loved her, you know?" He stated flatly, sadly, staring up at
the ceiling. "I really, really loved her," Mac stood, placing
his shoes beside one another at the foot of the bed.

"I know, Pete."

He sat suddenly, looking into her eyes but staring right through her all
the same. She unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and
removed his belt. Things she had done on a regular basis long ago –
another time, another place.

Another state of mind.

He continued to stare right through her.

~

When I was sure you'd follow through
My world was turned to blue (so thin)
When you'd hide your songs would die
So I'd hide yours with mine

~

"I never, ever loved anyone like I loved her," He mumbled again,
his eyelids beginning to droop heavily.

The words cut through Mac like a knife. Love. It was something that was
never spoken of in her relationship with Peter, but not entirely
ignored. Had she loved Peter? Of course she had, she now knew. Though at
the time she had never admitted it – not to herself or to Peter. Had
he loved her? Obviously not as much as he had loved Christina.

She tried to distract herself before the welling tears spilt over,
moving him so that his head finally reached the pillow. His eyes flashed
up towards hers, suddenly earnest.

"It was all my fault. All my fault she's gone."

The pain on his face was unbearable for Mac. She brushed a hand over his
forehead and though his hair.

"Shh," She soothed; her voice shaky and her heart beating
rapidly.

"I love her…" Pete trailed off, before becoming silent.

Present tense.

Mac let herself out of the flat expertly and waited until she was safely
locked in her car before bursting into tears.

Expertly.

~

All my words were bound to fail
But I know you won't fail

See, I can tell…

~

*