From: Chariot Customer 

TITLE:       Shades of Blue
AUTHOR:      Claire
RATING:      PG-13  (suffer )
PAIRING:     Ashton / Santini (sort of…)
SPOILERS:    None
CHRONOLOGY:  Er… Early to mid 1998
SERIES:      Possibly… This may be a direct off-
             shoot to a series that is currently
             unfortunately only in my head
             You have been warned.
DISCLAIMERS: Somewhat fortunately for them ,
             the characters belong to Thames
             Television / Pearson (whatever…).
             I merely play with them occasionally.
FEEDBACK:    Yeah, why not?  I’m stronger than
             Luke, I can take it.

THANKS: To Kel for the beta and everything. 
All other errors are the property of me and me
alone.

SHADES OF BLUE

Luke Ashton was beginning to curse his bladder.   If he hadn’t had to go to the toilet he wouldn’t
now be stuck on the wrong side of the pulsating dance floor.  Crossing the dance floor in the
first instance had been easy.  It was as if the DJ had cleared it for Luke by playing something by a
group called Bros.  All, bar those who were stoned and could probably only hear the wind whistling
between their ears, had immediately cleared off in the direction of the bar.

Luke did not have a clue who Bros were.  In fact, in the two hours that he’d been at the Dog and Gun
he could count the number of songs he’d recognised on one hand.  He knew he was in the minority
though.  Everyone else seemed to be having a fine time.  Polly Page had chosen the pub’s Eighties
night to celebrate her birthday and a good number of Sun Hill officers were there to congratulate
her on turning another year older.

It was all right for them, Luke thought somewhat petulantly, they were all old enough to remember
the music.  He’d been at primary school for the better part of the Eighties and more interested in
his Matchbox cars and hand-held Nintendo games than Top of the Pops.

Sighing, Luke surveyed the throbbing dance floor and decided to remain a while longer near the
cigarette machine.  He had no desire to fight his way through all the dancers and hoped that when
the, ‘Three- In-A-Row-Cure-Fest, ’ was over a good number of them would leave the dance floor.  Luke
wondered what was so exciting about the music of this particular band as it certainly wasn’t doing
much for him.  ‘Let’s Go To Bed,’ indeed.  Why couldn’t they just play something by The Verve or
Primal Scream.  At least they were good and he recognised them.  Not that Luke felt any sort of
urge to share his views with anyone.  He had a feeling that he was about the only one that felt
that way.  Even the bunch of androgynous-looking Goths had left their blackcurrant-and-ciders and
were shuffling around the dance floor, waving their arms and swaying to the music.  From the
blank expressions on their deathly white powdered faces, Luke couldn’t decide if they were enjoying
themselves or not.  He also wondered what it was that made people want to dress in all black all of
the time.  It made them look so dreary and depressed.  As if there wasn’t enough misery in
the world already.

Tearing his attention away from the Goths, Luke was able to see the table he ’d left where his
friends were sitting.  Tony Stamp and Dave Quinnan looked bored out of their minds, which probably
meant that Reg Hollis was sharing yet another anecdote with them.  Luke stifled a giggle as Tony
met his gaze and dramatically rolled his eyes.

He smiled at Tony before continuing to peruse the scene around him.  There were George Garfield and
Gary McCann propping up the bar.  Not far away from them was Matthew Boyden, who appeared to be
attempting to chat up a peroxide blonde in a red leather micro-mini.  Not very successfully by the
looks of things.  The blonde looked about as impressed as Tony and Dave.  The birthday girl,
Polly, was in the middle of the dance floor, shaking her stuff with Sam Harker.  Luke couldn’t
locate any of the others.

For a moment, Luke considered making a dash for it.  Listening to Reg drone on would have to be
preferable to propping up a cigarette machine just outside the men’s room.  Quickly offering a prayer
to the great unknown, he made a tentative move towards the dance floor.  As he stepped away from
the vending machine his eyes were drawn to a young man dancing by himself a little to the side of the
main throng of dancers.

He wasn’t what would be called classically handsome.  He wasn’t even overly attractive.  Just
a young man, average height, average-looking and wearing an unoriginal outfit of green shirt, blue
jeans and black trainers.  Nothing special.

What stopped Luke in his tracks was the fact that he appeared to be totally lost in the music, in
the sensation the music provided.  Dancing alone, his expression was one of blissful calm, as though
nothing mattered but the music.  Not the crowd, not the smoke-heavy air.  Almost as if life did
not exist outside of the music.

Luke envied the young man’s ability to let himself go like that.  He wished he could allow himself
the same freedom -- to not to have to worry about what people think of you.  To belong.  Even if it
was just to the music. For as long as Luke could remember all he had wanted was to feel as though
he belonged.  That was why he had joined the police force, in order to obtain that desperately
needed sense of belonging.  And, so far, he thought that he might have found it.  Most of the
officers at Sun Hill had been very kind to him.

Still, the sense of utter freedom that seemed to emanate from the young man was something else
entirely.  Luke didn’t want to meet him or talk to him. He just wanted to watch him and imagine the
same freedom.

"Checking him out are you, Sprog?"

"What?"

Reluctantly looking away from the dancer, Luke sought out the source of the voice that had
interrupted his trance-like state.  To his dismay he realised that it was Eddie Santini.

"Oh… Oh, I’m sorry, Eddie.  I didn’t mean to snap.  How long have you been standing there?"

Luke hoped that Eddie had just got there and that he would now leave.  He didn’t know what to make
of the latest PC to arrive at Sun Hill and tried to ignore his instincts.  Instincts which told him
that the tall Italian was trouble.

Ignoring Luke’s question, Eddie looked intently at the dancer for a minute before turning his
attention fully to Luke.

"Not bad…  But I reckon even you could do better."

"I was only watching him dance."

"Yeah, sure."  Eddie casually shrugged his shoulders and leant closer to Luke.  "I didn’t
know you liked boys, Luke…"

"What?"

This time he didn’t apologise for his abruptness.  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  This was
not a conversation he wanted to be part of. Particularly not with Eddie.

"You never struck me as the type, but hey!, it takes all sorts.  Watching you watching him, I
could tell that you wanted him…"

"Rubbish."

Luke was beginning to feel flustered and could feel his cheeks burning. Eddie, on the other hand
looked cool, calm and collected.  As usual.  He looked like he was enjoying Luke’s discomfort.

"Come on. Admit it.  You fancy him."

"I don’t."  Luke realised that he sounded a little whiny but couldn’t help it.  "I just thought he
was a good dancer.  That’s all."  He tried again to extricate himself from the unpleasant
conversation and glanced around him, casually looking for an escape route.

Eddie caught Luke’s furtive glance and sneered at him.  Without even seeming to move, he reached out
and grabbed Luke by the wrist,  closing his fingers around the soft fabric of Luke’s long-
sleeved t-shirt and holding tight, effectively stopping any form of escape.

Luke stared in disbelief at the hand trapping him, and, wishing that he was home safely in bed, could
hardly make out what Eddie was saying.

"Why don’t you just admit it?"

Luke shook his head, struck dumb by the unreality of the situation.  Eddie’s expression seemed to
soften slightly and Luke assumed that it must be some peculiar attempt to appear older and more
knowledgeable to him.  To further emphasise his change in character he loosened his grip slightly
and continued in a conciliatory tone.

"There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.  Nothing wrong with fancying blokes.  In fact," he
leant in close enough for Luke to be able to smell the lager on his breath, "Even I’m not immune to
their charms…"  This was accompanied by the sort of smile most usually seen in court after the
undoubtedly guilty criminal somehow manages to still get off.  Luke watched in disbelief as Eddie
reiterated his point by slowly raking his eyes over him.

Although, due to the fog settling in his brain, it took a little longer than it should, it finally
dawned on Luke what Eddie was really saying.  He was coming on to him!  Luke was horrified.  His
eyes widened and his mouth hung open.  From the way his expression changed it would have been
obvious to all bar the stoned and the drunk that whatever he had just heard was the equivalent of
his team being relegated, if not wiped out in a freak accident.

As far as Luke was concerned, this had to be a bad joke.  The others must have dared Eddie to do
this.  Making a supreme effort, he pulled himself sufficiently together to glance desperately over
to his table. He expected them to raise their pints at him and cheer.  A joke.  That’s all.  It
had to be.  The disappointment Luke felt when he saw that no-one was looking his way was
momentarily overwhelming.

He was about to start jabbering inanely in an attempt to gloss over the suggestion when a
drunken dancer suddenly lurched between them, causing Eddie to relinquish his grip on Luke’s
wrist.  He seized the opportunity to execute a quick getaway.

The toilets were closer than the sanctuary of his colleagues and as all Luke wanted to do was to put
some distance between himself and Eddie as quickly as possible, he took off towards them,  muttering
a cursory, "Just gotta go to the loo."

Pushing through the heavy doors and blinking in the harsh fluorescent light, Luke realised that
Eddie was close behind him.  In the bright light the Italian looked drunk and bristling with evil
intent.

Shit, Luke thought, will this ever end?

Whatever his thoughts on homosexuality were, (and they were… muddled) they did not, and had never,
included a predatory Eddie Santini.

Gritting his teeth, Luke had just decided that he had nothing to lose by confronting Eddie when he
found himself being unceremoniously propelled into an empty cubicle.  Eddie had the door shut and
locked behind them before Luke’s mind had caught up with his body.

"That wasn’t very nice, taking off on me like that."

Eddie’s whispered voice carried a thinly veiled undertone of menace to it.

"I’m sorry, Eddie but…  Look, I think you may have had a little too much to drink and…"

Luke couldn’t think of anything else to say as he fought back rising panic, all his training flying
out the window and leaving him defenceless.  They never said anything at Hendon about having a drunk
fellow officer pin you to the wall whilst simultaneously groping you against your will.  The
weight of Eddie’s body pushed him flat against the wall, his hand moving all over Luke ’s body.

"Eddie…  Please…"

Silent tears slid down Luke’s cheek and he made no attempt to disguise them or brush them away.  He
no longer cared whether he looked pathetic or not. A desire to belong shouldn’t have to go hand in
hand with being molested in a pub toilet.  He even wondered if he had done anything to lead Eddie on.
He didn’t want this, yet realised that he was helpless to stop it.

"What?  You don’t like this, Sprog?"

Eddie squeezed Luke’s groin hard to reinforce the question, shaking him with equal amounts of pain
and shame.

Luke shook his head miserably and nearly wailed in anguish when he felt Eddie’s hands move to his
shoulders and push him to his knees.  He landed on the cold, wet tiles with a dull thud.

"Tease."

Being on eye-level with the straining crotch of Eddie’s jeans was almost enough to push Luke over
the edge.  Damn the consequences.  Damn belonging  -- if this was what it involved, being forced to
give a head job in a stinking toilet, then they could stuff it.  He was about to start begging,
pleading - - *anything*, when the main door to the toilets was opened and the sound of incoming
footsteps echoed through the room.

Eddie froze at the sound of the intruder and angrily yanked up his fly. He glared at Luke, who
was holding his breath in hopeful anticipation of being saved, and motioned for him to be silent.
The exact moment it was clear that the other man had shut himself in the next cubicle, Eddie spun
on his heels, swiftly unlocked and opened the door, and stalked out.  He didn’t need to say
anything.  The fierce expression on his face clearly told Luke to keep this all to himself or
suffer the consequences.

Not that Luke had any intention of telling anyone of his encounter. It wasn’ t something *he* wanted
to know about let alone share.  In time he knew that it would be nothing but a bad memory.

Luke watched Eddie’s retreating figure until he disappeared through the main door.  When he felt
confident enough to move without shaking he dragged himself off the floor and quickly shut the
door and locked it.  Fighting back waves of nausea, Luke lowered the toilet lid, sat down on
it, resting his head on the graffiti covered wall.

He tried to combat the all pervading sense of disgust and worthlessness threatening to overwhelm
him.  He couldn’t believe what had nearly happened. What did happen was bad enough.  He’d
always tried not to judge people, to believe the best of them.  He hadn’t listened to station
gossip about Eddie, he’d wanted to make up his own mind.  This experience made him wonder why he ’d
bothered.  It also made him question his own judgement.

The sound of the outer door being opened again shook Luke a little out of his misery, bringing
him back to reality.  He stared blankly at the graffiti and wondered what to do.  He could hardly
stay sitting on the toilet all night.  Besides, by the sound of the shuffling feet outside the door
it appeared that his unknown rescuer was still firmly ensconced in the only other cubicle.

Taking a deep breath, Luke wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his top, got off the toilet, flushed it
for appearances sake and unlocked the door.  He didn’ t take any notice of the man waiting as he
was too intent on heading to the basin and splashing cold water on his face.  Subsequently he
nearly jumped out of his skin when the man addressed him.

"There you are Sprog.  We were wondering where you had got to."

Without thinking about what he must look like, Luke turned his tear- stained face towards the
source of the voice.  To his relief it was Dave Quinnan. He offered a weak smile in response.

"Hey Luke, are you okay?  You look a little…"

Dave looked closely at Luke and made to walk over to him before grimacing and heading back to the
cubicle.  He mouthed the word ‘wait’ at him.  Luke nodded his agreement and Dave shut the door behind
him.

Ignoring the fag ends stuck to the basin, Luke turned on the cold tap and cupped his hands under
the flowing water.  Without once glancing at his expression in the cracked mirror above the basin,
he scooped the water up and splashed it on his face and hair.  As the water dripped down his neck
and onto his t-shirt he found himself beginning to feel a bit better.

Of all the people he could have encountered after his run-in with Eddie he was kind of glad that it
was Dave.  Luke liked Dave.  All the practical jokes and good humour aside, he felt as though he
was someone he could trust.  He’d never felt uncomfortable with him, like he had with Eddie.
Thinking back, Luke realised that he had felt uneasy around Eddie from the time the Italian had
first arrived at Sun Hill.  He’d put it down to his own inexperience.  In hindsight, Luke decided
that it may be wise to trust his instincts.  Bugger the benefit of the doubt, he thought, it
only causes more trouble.

Luke turned the tap off and was drying his face on his top when he heard the toilet flush.
Straightening up, he watched Dave reappear with a greatly relieved expression on his face.  Briefly,
Luke wondered about the inhabitant of the other cubicle.  It was almost as though he’d passed out
in there.  He contemplated mentioning this to Dave when a familiar scent assailed his nostrils.  Ah,
that explains it, his unknown saviour was enjoying a quick spliff.  Luke was thankful that the
potential moral dilemma was diverted by his being off duty.  He didn’t exactly feel in the mood to
arrest someone who, in all honesty, he felt like thanking.

Dave sniffed the air as he walked over to the basins near Luke and shook his head.  Turning the
taps on, he washed his hands and looked at Luke’s reflection in the mirror.  Luke noticed this
scrutiny and decided to pre-empt the obvious question.

"I…  I was feeling a bit sick.  Must have been something I ate."  He tried to sound more
confident than he felt.

"Uh-huh."  Dave turned the taps off and wiped his wet hands on his jeans. "Feeling better?"

Luke forced a bright smile and nodded, "Yeah.
Much.  Thanks."

"You don’t look it, but I can’t argue with you.  Come on.  Come back and sit with us.  Unless you
are planning to go after Eddie, of course…"

"Ed… Eddie?"  Luke managed to get the name out.  What did Dave know?  For some reason, either
because of the tone of his voice or the way he was looking at him, Luke began to suspect that Dave
knew everything.

"Yeah, Eddie.  I saw the two of you over near the cigarette machine and I was nearly bowled over by
him as I walked over here.  Then I find you in here looking like death warmed up and I just
wondered what the two of you were up to."

"Nothing.  We were doing nothing."

Dave widened his eyes a little at Luke’s breathless outburst.  "Hey, I was just curious.
No need to get so het up about it."  Patting him on the shoulder, he opened the door and ushered
Luke out of the toilets.  "Let’s go.  We’ll be high if we stand around in here much longer."

"I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to…"

"Just forget it."  Dave interrupted him in a gentle tone that, whether it was meant
intentionally or not, managed to reassure Luke.

"Okay."

There was no help for it, Luke was sure that Dave was aware of more than he was letting on.  Instead
of worrying about this or feeling embarrassed by it, he found the thought oddly comforting.

The pair of them walked back out into the bustle of the dance floor.  If anything there were now
even more people shaking their stuff than before. By unspoken agreement they begun to inch their way
round the outskirts of the dancers.  It seemed easier than attempting to take a direct path
through the middle.  Their progress was made slower by the overhead lights occasionally
flashing ultraviolet in time to the music.  When this occurred all Luke could make out were the
flashes of white that some of the dancers were wearing, the most obvious of these white flashes
being the white soles of the trainers that most had on their feet.  Luke found the sight vaguely
amusing.

Gradually, because they seemed to be getting nowhere fast, the words of yet another unknown
song began to impress on Luke.  He was taken by their aptness.

"How does it feel To treat me like you do
When you’ve laid your hands upon me
And told me who you are"

To Luke, the lyrics mirrored how he felt about Eddie.

Feeling as though he had to know more about the song he caught up with Dave and shouted, "Who is
this?"

"New Order, Blue Monday."

Dave’s response didn’t help much as Luke couldn’t decide which one was the band title and which one
was the song title.

After being jostled and elbowed for what felt like an eternity, they finally ended up relatively
unscathed on the other side of the dance floor.

"Come on.  I’ll buy you a pin… lemonade."

Dave looked at Luke for a second and laughed.  He walked over to the bar and gestured for Luke to
follow him.  As they waited to be served, George wandered over and pushed his way between them,
tilting his head in the direction of the dance floor and muttering, "Check it out."

Luke followed George’s gaze and saw Polly taking a swig from the alcoholic soft drink that she held.
He didn’t know what she was holding on to tighter, the bottle or Sam.  Her normally neat hair was all
messy and she could barely stay upright.

"Good job Steve ain’t still here.  Imagine what he’d have had to say…"

George smirked, then lurched off in the direction that he had come from.

Luke watched as a flash of what could only be described as pain crossed over Dave’s face.  It
was only there for the briefest of moments but he was still positive that he saw it.  He stared at
Dave a little too intently and wondered what George had meant.  Luke knew next to nothing about
this mysterious Steve other than that he had been going to be one of his puppy-walkers but had
suddenly quit before he got there.  For ages he had thought that he had to be dead, the way
everyone spoke about him in hushed tones.  Luke also vaguely recalled being told by Tony that it
was for the best if he didn’t mention Steve’s name around Dave.  He’d thought nothing of it at the
time.

"You can stop staring at me now, Luke.  I’m fine and if you want to know what that pillock meant
then just ask.  It’s better that you do that than go on wondering about it and I would prefer it if
you asked me…"

"Oh…  I’m sorry…"  Luke was mortified that he had been caught staring.  "You don’t have to tell me
anything.  I just wondered what George meant, that’s all.  It doesn’t matter.  It’s not
important"

"It’s all right.  Don’t worry, Luke, and don’t apologise all the time.  You don’t have to.  What
George meant by that was that Steve was rather well known for his strong views on women drinking.
Actually," Dave paused and smiled briefly at Luke, "He had views that he didn’t mind sharing on next
to everything."

"You sound as though you liked him.  Did you know him well?"

"Yeah.  I thought I did.  Hang on a moment."  The barman finally came over to serve them.  "I’ll
have a pint and a…"

"Lemonade," Luke finished for him with a smile.

Dave nodded at the barman and turned his attention back to Luke.  "Now, where was I?  Did I know
Steve well?  You could say that.  Or more to the point, I knew him as well as anyone could know
him."

Luke couldn’t ignore the look of sadness on Dave’s face as he spoke.  "You sound like you miss him…"

"I’ll let you in on a secret, Luke, as long as you promise not to tell anyone. Especially not Tony,
he thinks that I’m all over it…"

Luke nodded as Dave dug around in his pocket and paid the barman.  "I promise."

"I still miss him, and what is more, I will probably always miss him."

The meaning of Dave’s statement was clear to Luke and he realised that he had a strong ally.  He
decided not to ask any further questions which seemed to relieve Dave.

Picking up the drinks from the counter, Dave started to walk over to the table.  "Come on.  If
we’re really unlucky Reg will still be entertaining everyone with his fascinating tales
of horticulture and trains."

Luke laughed.  "We can but hope."

As they neared the table, Tony jumped up and got another chair to replace Luke’s that was now being
taken up by Gary.  "Hey!  Where’s mine?" he asked, smiling, as they reached the table.  Dave ignored
him, and, settling the drinks on the table, sat down.

"I’ll get you one if you like, Tone."

"No you won’t."  Dave grabbed at Luke’s top and pulled him towards the empty chair.  "If he wants
one so badly he can get up and get it himself.  Now, sit."

Tony grumbled momentarily but Luke could see that he didn’t mean it.  He was just having a joke.
Sitting down, Luke felt himself being immediately lulled into a sense of contentment.  Everyone at
the table seemed pleased to see him and the conversation flowed freely.  It didn’t take long
for him to begin to forget about Eddie’s actions.  Not only that, but as Luke sat surrounded by his
friends, he felt as though he just might belong there after all.

~end~