Tony let the warm controller slip from his hands as he exhaled. Tonight, Lara Croft had failed to distract him. He closed his eyes briefly, but found he could not relax and began to pace the untidy room. As he was pacing, he rubbed a hand over his jaw, producing a slight scratching noise. A shave was long overdue, he conceded, and made his way to the bathroom hoping that shaving might clear his head a little. The gentle drag of the blade across his skin seemed to calm him slightly and he thought back to his last conversation with Carol.

They'd successfully completed another case, convicted a serial killer who'd been targeting teenage boys. But Carol hardly seemed in the mood to celebrate another victory. As Tony entered her office, she looked up from her desk and offered him a small smile.

"Well done, Tony. Once again, we wouldn't have managed without your help." Despite her smile, she seemed tired and resigned, Tony observed.

"You know, Carol, now that the case is finished you could take some time off-"

"I'd rather not," she said brusquely, becoming guarded and averting her eyes from him. She got up and pulled her coat on, but as she approached the door she was stopped by Tony's hand which rested gently, but insistently, on her arm.

"When's the funeral?" Tony gently enquired.

"Monday...I still don't know what I'm going to say. I haven't really thought about it."

"I could come with you if you want me to, Carol..."

"No, no. It's fine, really...the university think I'm monopolising you as it is."

Tony smiled, but Carol could see the concern in his eyes and felt a pang of guilt at being so abrupt with him.

"I do appreciate it you know, Tony," she said, meeting his blue-eyed gaze.

"I know," he replied.

Tony patted his face dry and, upon looking up, saw himself in the mirror.

"This is pathetic," he said to his reflection. Then, with an air of purpose about him, he strode out of the bathroom and grabbed his coat by the collar.