Richard Book is Innocent (
oxfordtweed) wrote in
tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 05:07 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Lamp Light (7/10)
Title: Lamp Light
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: Like in the film
Word Count (chapter/total): 6,100 / 47,100
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Warnings: Danny's still feeling a lot neglected, and probably has good reason.
According to the dot points I have set up, about half of this chapter was not supposed to happen, but it feels like something that should have been included in the initial outline. For a character that wasn't even supposed to be in this story, Travis has developed beyond the point of just "supporting male" and has apparently become not only an integral part of Nicholas' relationship (or lack thereof) with Janine, but is also becoming a sticking point with his relationship with Danny. I've got Nicholas' entire relationship with Travis for this story mapped out in my head, and I'm not sure how much of that I'm able to be getting across.
A lot of Janine comes out in this chapter, too, and in that reveal, it also shows how much Angel has changed over the last year. A lot has happened to this man in a short period of time, and it's beginning to take its toll on him. Danny realizes there's more to the story than he's being told, but he's not quite ready to know the whole thing, yet.
And in case you have not twigged, (now) Chief Inspector Partridge = Steve Coogan.
Nicholas wandered through the crowd, not amazed at the complete lack of Travis. He should have known to just take the tube. At least leaving at a moment's notice meant he didn't have much to pack. He pushed his way through the crowd as politely as possible, making it out to the street relatively unharmed. Sighing to himself, he started to make his way to the tube station, startled by the shrill chirp of police sirens. He turned round quickly, noticing a patrol car parked across the street, flashing its lightly quickly for good measure. Glancing back and forth quickly, Nicholas darted across the road and let himself into the passenger seat.
"I'd reprimand you about jay walking, but we are in a hurry," Travis said as he put the car into drive before Nicholas even had a chance to fasten his seat belt.
"Sorry," he said. "It was a half-hour late into the station."
Travis turned onto the road, barely taking time to check for traffic. "Sun visor," he said simply.
Frowning, Nicholas flipped down the visor, finding a white envelope full of twenty pound notes. "What's this?" he asked.
"Getting you reimbursed properly was turning out to be a pain in the arse," Travis said. "Consider it your early Christmas gift."
Nicholas laughed lightly. "Just what I've always wanted." He slid the envelope into his jacket, leaning back into his seat. "Do we need to drive so quickly? he asked. "There are speed limits for a reason."
"I can turn on the sirens if you're that worried," Travis said stiffly.
Nicholas shrugged as he wrapped his jacket around himself more tightly, hoping traffic would allow for a quick nap before getting to the station.
For once, newly instated Chief Inspector Partridge was not smiling. He sat behind his desk, his jaw clenched tightly as he sat on the telephone, listening to whoever was on the other end doing their best at verbally assaulting him. Nicholas waited stiffly, trying not to move, lest he draw attention to himself. Finally, Partridge slammed the telephone down, staring hard at Nicholas.
"Well," he said flatly.
Nicholas shrugged. "Well?" he asked. "You called me out here. You tell me."
Partridge scowled at Nicholas and slammed down a folder stuffed with papers, faxed in with Sandford's seal on top. "Is this your idea of taking this piss, Angel?" he demanded. "Not enough for you to blow the station to kingdom come, but you're minutes away from burning down the courthouse, now?"
Nicholas leaned back, wondering if maybe it was Partridge taking the piss. "No..." he said slowly. "I didn't do anything of the sort. And the officers in question have been duly disciplined for their actions."
Partridge threw open the folder, pulling out a form at random. "If this is your idea of a joke, it's certainly not the least bit funny."
Nicholas stammered for a moment. "I...didn't do the documentation on it," he said. "My doctor should have sent in LOA forms before any of it happened. Sergeant Fisher is acting inspector in my absence."
"Funny," Partridge snapped. "Because I don't see his name on here, either. I'm seeing your predecessor, who -- need I remind you -- is awaiting sentencing in Brixton!"
Nicholas leaned forward and snatched up the forms from Partridge, his jaw dropping upon finding that Partridge was right. He looked over the forms, slowly realizing that something wasn't right. In fact, it was completely wrong. The handwriting didn't match Tony's lazy scrawl. It was looping and almost childish, yet completely legible -- more than could be said for half of the station. Putting the forms down, Nicholas sighed.
"Daniel Butterman," he said. "My other sergeant. He got his stripes about three weeks ago."
Partridge glared at Nicholas from across the desk. "And why, pray tell, do you have a man who's not been promoted a month doing your job?"
"Well, for one, my doctor's deemed me not fit for work," Nicholas reminded him heavily. "As for the other sergeant, he'll be dealt with."
Partridge continued to glare across his desk. "You've just got an answer for everything, haven't you?" he asked.
Nicholas narrowed his gaze. "I can't believe you just said that," he said. He sighed deeply as he got to his feet. "Now, is there anything else that could have easily been handled with a telephone call, or can I go back home?"
"Get the hell out of my office," Partridge grumbled.
Nicholas made his way to the door, stopping once he had it open. "Maybe you should keep out of my business, and mind your own officers," he said. "One or two of them are up for promotion."
"Out," Partridge snapped.
Nicholas shoved his hands into his pockets, and left the office, finding Travis sulking around the corner, doing a very poor job at not trying to listen in. "What was that all about, then?" he asked, falling into step along side the inspector.
Nicholas sighed. "My officers are destructive, not doing their jobs, and covering up for one another behind my back," he said. "Sandford's more like London than I thought."
Travis chuckled. "I knew this would happen," he said. "We sent you out there, and now we'll never see you again."
Nicholas shook his head. "That's not entirely true, you know," he said. "Partridge will always have something to want to reprimand me about." He pushed a door open for the two of them, falling back into step next to Travis. "There's nothing stopping you from coming out to see me, you know," he added.
"I was out there," Travis said flatly. "It smelled like petrol."
"London smells like petrol," Nicholas pointed out. "Sandford smells like... swans. And the fresh air would probably do you some good."
Travis sighed, but said nothing as they walked into the cafeteria. The two walked up to a coffee machine, which Travis fed a few coins. "How are things out there, by the way?" he asked. "Professionally."
Nicholas sighed. "I need help," he said defeatedly. "I'm losing officers left and right. Even I'm not officially supposed to be working, but I'm still going in at night to take care of some things." Travis looked at Nicholas silently. Nicholas could see in his friend's eyes guilt and regret, but he chose to ignore it. "I sent Partridge a request for backup, until we can get staffing back to an adequate level."
"I'll put my name down," Travis said quietly. "You need experience; not staffing."
"Yeah," Nicholas said quietly. They made their way to a small table in the corner, which overlooked the car park. Nicholas pulled out his mobile and turned the ringer back on, leaving it on the table. He sat hunched over the table, watching as Travis quietly drank his coffee. "If they need anything out there, it's experience," he said finally. "I'm not sure what's keeping me out there more; my contempt for Partridge, or that they need a real leader, instead of just ice cream."
"What?" Travis looked up sharply.
Nicholas shook his head. "Something In--Frank did," he explained. "Danny was in trouble for driving under the influence, and Frank's response was to have him buy ice cream out of pocket."
Travis frowned. "Why can't Inspector Arsehole do that?" he asked. "I filled out a form incorrectly and was fined ten pounds from my cheque."
Nicholas laughed lightly. "I'd have just put you on speed detail."
"Thanks," Travis said flatly.
Nicholas offered a wry smile, which faded entirely too quickly. Travis turned round quickly, groaning loudly. "Don't, mate," he warned. "Not worth it."
Nicholas looked pained at Travis for a brief moment before getting to his feet, slowly walking across the cafeteria.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Janine demanded before Nicholas even got to her table. "Nicholas, we're done."
"When are you going to want to talk?" he asked.
"With you?" Janine asked. "Never."
"We can't just keep ignoring things!" Nicholas insisted. He heard his mobile go off behind him, but ignored it. Travis picked it up, mashing the answer button by accident, aiming for the command to ignore the call.
"Shit," he hissed, bringing it to his ear. "Nick's mobile. He's busy right now being yelled at by his ex." He hung it up as he jumped to his feet, rushing over to Nicholas. He grabbed the inspector by the shoulders, trying to pull him away. When Nicholas refused to move, Travis turned to face Janine. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "I understand you're upset, but you've just been a bitch for no reason."
Janine got to her feet, stepping close to the men. Travis could feel Nicholas finally giving in, taking a step back, but Travis held his ground, keeping a tight hold on Nicholas' shoulders. "Travis, this is none of your goddamn business," she hissed.
"It is!" Travis snapped back. "I've known him a hell of a lot longer than you have, so I'd like to think I've got an invested interest in his well being." Nicholas tried to duck away, but Travis tightened his hold. "It hurt all of us; not just you."
"I didn't even want you in the family," Janine spat. "You were only named godfather because your dick was so far up his arse --"
"Never!" Nicholas barked, trying to lunge forward. It was a fair wrestle, but Travis managed to keep his hold on Nicholas, keeping he and Janine a safe distance.
"He never touched me when he was with you," Travis said. "And not since, like it even matters at this point." He and Janine stared heatedly at one another before Travis finally gave Nicholas a nudge toward the door. "S'go home, Nick," he said. Nicholas resisted a few moments before letting himself be led away. Travis glared across the room, making sure anyone who wasn't pretending their their muffins were the most interesting things in the world at that moment knew to keep their mouths shut long enough for them to leave.
With no possible way of knowing such a promise would be broken in less than six month's time, Nicholas swore to never again sleep in any chair made of formica. His neck felt as though it was seconds away from bursting into flames and then exploding, but everything in his brain told him to keep his damn mouth shut. He sat forward, cringing as every bone in his back and neck snapped violently. He reached over, lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from Janine's forehead. He was startled, jumping slightly, when a nurse let herself in.
"Oh," she said, seeming surprised to see Nicholas awake. She smiled warmly, going back to her business. "How's dad?" she asked.
Nicholas smiled, saying nothing. He was afraid that if he did say anything, he'd betray how completely and utterly terrified of life he had suddenly become. He could barely take care of himself some days, and at least Janine was equally self-sustaining, but now he was expected to care for himself, Janine, and now a brand new life.
"You two decide on a name, yet?" the nurse asked, tidying up bits around the room that didn't really need tidying up.
"Patrick," Nicholas answered.
"Jacob," Janine said over him. Nicholas jumped slightly, not aware that Janine had woken up.
"I thought we decided on Patrick," Nicholas said.
"You decided on Patrick," Janine said. "I was just in labour seven hours. We're naming him after my father."
Nicholas tried to frown, but he really couldn't find it in himself to argue with that logic. "Jacob Patrick," he offered.
Janine sighed. "Jacob Patrick?" she asked. "Yeah, I guess it has a nice ring."
"Angel," Nicholas said. "My parents are liable to kill me, otherwise.
Janine narrowed her gaze. "What makes you so certain I'm going to give him your name?" she asked.
"Because you really don't want to meet the fury of my parents," he said simply. "All Church of England, here. You wouldn't understand."
The nurse finished her tidying as quickly as possible, and rushed out of the room, silently cursing herself for having known better than to ask such a stupid question.
Janine tried to glare at him a few moments more, but broke into a light laughter. "Of course I'm naming him Angel, you idiot," she said. "I might have... told my parents that we're married, already."
"What?" Nicholas demanded.
"A private ceremony," Janine continued. "In Wells."
It was Nicholas' turn to try to stare her down. "Are you taking the piss?"
"You wore a white tux, but there are no photos, because the camera got wet."
Nicholas let his jaw go slack, as he laughed ironically. "Nice to know this now," he said. "A bit of advance warning, next time?"
Janine cringed. "About that," she said.
Nicholas lie face down in Travis' bed, listening to the soft sounds of the telly in the other room. He could hear his mobile chirping happily, and barely make out words as Travis answered it.
"I think he's asleep," Travis said, getting closer to the bedroom. "I'll check for you, though."
Nicholas held his hand out from under the duvet, clumsily accepting the mobile as he shifted to hold it to his ear.
"Angel," he said dryly.
"What was all that about earlier today, then?" Danny practically demanded from the other end.
Nicholas sighed. "Danny, I'm sorry," he said. "There was an...altercation."
"Yeah," Danny said heavily. "With your other ex, I know. And what happened with staying with your parents?"
"They're on holiday," Nicholas answered simply. "Didn't know I'd be coming in today." Danny remained silent for a few moments. "If it upsets you, I'll go to a hotel," Nicholas offered.
"No," Danny said, audibly deflating. "No sense in spendin' money you don't have. I'm just nervous, yeah?"
"I've only a few more trips out here, before things start going back to normal--"
"Things were shit when they were normal," Danny pointed out.
"Okay," Nicholas conceded. "Before things start being what will become the new normal. Then I'll be out in Sandford permanently."
"You gonna stop obsessering over your ex, then?" Danny asked.
Nicholas stuck on that point, going silent. "Hopefully," he said.
Maybe it was because he didn't actually pay for the ticket out of pocket, or -- a concept that had frightened him -- he'd taken the trip so many times, Nicholas found the train ride into Maxwell's station almost enjoyable. The rain wasn't splattering quite as hard on the windows, and what few children there were on the train were amazingly quiet. Nicholas finished the magazine given to him by the attendant, and had taken to just lying back with his headphones playing the assorted random nothing that Danny had taken upon himself to load onto the music player. He'd told Nicholas it would help him concentrate and relax. Of course, the first go round, the music choice had been iffy at best, but Danny seemed to have found a hidden cache from somewhere, of music Nicholas actually had heard. Nothing too hard or too mellow, but a good assortment of in-between.
He was startled out of his trance by the attendant as she reached down to pick up his magazine. He jumped sharply, pulling his headphones off.
"Sorry," Nicholas said with a light chuckle as he handed the motoring publication up to her. "Think I might have drifted away for a bit."
She smiled lightly. "S'all right," she said. Her smile seemed to fade as she looked down at Nicholas. "You're that copper, aren't you?" she asked. "The one from the telly."
Nicholas nodded lightly. "Yeah," he said.
The attendant frowned at him sympathetically. "I been wonderin' why I thought you looked so familiar," she said. "You're a very brave man. No tellin' what might've happened to all them folks if you hadn't come round."
"It was just timing," he assured her, though not entirely convinced, himself. "It was bound to be discovered by someone."
"All them people," the attendant continued. "You're a very good man for stickin' round after all that to help out."
Nicholas smiled at her again as she continued on her way, wondering exactly what was being written about him in the papers.
"Night out'll be good for you," Danny insisted, leading Nicholas down the cobblestone street. "You're either cooped up in your house, or working in Lon-don."
Nicholas shrugged. "I like the solitude," he reasoned.
Danny shook his head. "All that up in your head keepin' you comp'ny can't be healthy," he said.
Nicholas sighed as he let Danny lead him into the newly-reopened Crown, cleaned up slightly, but still charmingly rustic. Nicholas wandered off and found a secluded table while Danny made his way to the bar, picking up a couple of lagers. He found Nicholas quickly enough, setting the pints down on the table without managing to slosh their drinks about. "Anythin' you want to talk to me about?" he asked almost sharply.
Nicholas shrugged. "No?" he said, confused. "Something... you want to talk about?"
Danny shrugged. "I'd like to know what's been goin' on, is all," he said. "You'll tell that one bloke everything, and I don't even know when your damn birthday is."
"August," Nicholas answered. "But it's not a big deal."
"It is, though," Danny insisted. "Apparently, I missed it, and you never even told me."
Nicholas sighed. "It's really not a big deal," he said. "And you were in hospital, anyway. No sense in fretting about it when there were more pressing matters at hand."
Danny frowned at him. "That Sergeant Travis bloke knows all about you, and I don't know nothin'," he said.
Nicholas shook his head. "I've known him a long time," he said. "He's someone I've always held very closely."
Danny looked away, trying very hard not to make a scene. "You ought to learn to pick your words a bit better," he said. "Specially when I know you're sleepin' in his bed when you're in Lon-don."
Sighing, Nicholas looked down at the table. "I haven't done anything with him," he insisted. “I’m not completely sure what I need to say to get you to believe that.”
"Start talking to me!" Danny said, struggling to keep his voice at a proper indoor level. "You're not supposed to keep talking to your exes when you start goin' with somebody else."
Nicholas sighed again. "He's not my ex," he said rationally. "That would imply that there was a break-up of some sort."
Danny chewed his lip and looked away, drinking half of his lager. "That why she hates you, then?" he asked. "You fucked off with 'im, then?"
"We never technically dated," Nicholas said. "Travis and I, that is. We used to mess around, but that stopped when we were both still PC's."
"So it weren't nothin', then?" Danny asked, almost hopefully.
Nicholas hung his head slightly. "I do care about him," he admitted. "But not in that way. We've known one another since grammar school."
"Not much of a friend, do go shippin' you off to some village what no one ever heard of," Danny pointed out.
"He was told to do that," Nicholas said simply. "By an inspector who was in turn told to do it by the chief inspector."
Danny laughed bitterly. "Just passin' it down the line, eh?"
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Basically, yes."
Danny finished off his lager, slamming the pint glass down on the table. "Still don't like 'im," he said. "He's a cunt."
"And that's your entitled opinion," Nicholas said, picking up his glass and taking a drink. "But he's still my friend, and I'm not about to stop keeping contact with him unless there's a good reason to."
"Thought being your ignored boyfriend would be reason enough," Danny muttered. Sighing, Nicholas hung his head again.
By Danny's fourth pint, and after Nicholas had finished off a basket of chips, Danny was finally smiling. Nicholas had barely touched his first pint, but Danny hardly noticed. He was out of the house, and not at work, and that was what mattered. Danny was happy to see Nicholas not being a policeman officer, and switched off, and Nicholas was happy just to see Danny happy. Still trying to piece together words to say to Danny, when an all too familiar cackle cut over the dull noise of the pub. Nicholas turned his head sharply, surprised to see Doris up at the bar, though what she was laughing at, Nicholas really couldn't tell. She appeared to be alone.
Frowning, he got to his feet and made his way to the constable, trying not to sneak up on her with her back turned. "Doris?" he asked cautiously.
Doris turned sharply round, her eyes seeming to light up. "Evenin', Chief," she said. "Wot you doin' 'ere so late?"
Nicholas shrugged. "Just enjoying a quiet evening," he said. "Are you alone? You can join us if you like."
Doris gazed across the pub, flashing Nicholas a sly look. "Korrr, don't want to interrupt you lot," she said, cackling madly again. "I'll probably just be nipping off, 'ere, anyway." She stepped down from the tall barstool, misjudging the height and falling forward. Nicholas lunged forward, grabbing her tightly by the waist.
"All right, Doris?" he asked.
Doris cackled in his ear. This close to her, he could smell the bitter on her breath.
"I think we ought to walk you home," Nicholas said.
"No, Chief," Doris said, trying to step away from him. "'M fine." Nicholas let her stand on her own, backing away slowly. When she tried to walk again, she stumbled, and again, Nicholas caught her.
"No, I'm walking you home," he said. "It's my responsibility."
Doris cackled again, spilling what was left of her bitter on Nicholas. "Kor, Chief. You coming on to me?" Nicholas rolled his eyes, looking across the pub at Danny. After a few moments, Danny finished his pint and rushed over to help Nicholas hold Doris up. "Danny, love!" Doris practically shouted. "You and the Chief getting some quality time, eh?"
Nicholas' face turned bright red as he looked away, his jaw clenched tightly.
"Just out for drinks," Danny said. "Gettin' 'im out of the house like his doctor wants."
"I've been in London for two days," Nicholas pointed out, wrapping his arm around Doris' waist. "How much more 'out of the house' can I get?" Doris shook with laughter as Danny took her pint glass away. She finally accepted their help, leaning on Nicholas more than was probably necessary. "Ready, Doris?" Nicholas asked.
"You lot coming home with me?" she asked. She awkwardly pounded Nicholas on the shoulder. "I'unno, Chief. Might be gettin' more 'an I bargained for with you."
"We're taking you home," Nicholas said simply, certain that his face could not possibly get any redder. "Now." He turned round, finding the bartender watching them idly. "Hers and ours on the station tab," he instructed. "I'll come by this week and take care of it."
The bartender nodded, watching as Danny helped Nicholas escort Doris out of the pub, barely able to keep a straight line.
Nicholas pounded on the door, ready to break it down if he had to. He knew he was probably waking the neighbours, but it was nothing they weren't already used to. Nicholas was just about to try to dig his mobile from his pockets when the door finally swung open.
"Nick, what the fuck?" Andrew asked, stepping outside to collect Doris from Nicholas and Danny. "What'd you do to her?"
"Brought her home." Nicholas said simply. "I don't think she's even conscious right now."
Andrew looked down at Doris, completely failing at keeping her on her feet. He dragged her inside, doing his best at lying her on the sofa. "How much she had to drink?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure," Nicholas said, inviting himself in. "We found her like that. I think we lost her crossing Norris."
"Jesus Christ," Andrew muttered. He rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at the woman on his sofa. "She said she was going out, not trying to fucking kill herself."
"What?" Nicholas asked, stepping forward nervously.
Andrew shook his head. "Nothin' like that," he said. "She's just been drinking more 'an usual, lately. If Dad knew, he'd kill me."
Nicholas shifted nervously. "Well, you'll all be getting a proper break soon," he said. "I know you've all been working hard, and it's appreciated. You deserve some time off."
Danny frowned, still fidgeting near the front door. "How you gonna manage that?" he asked accusingly. "Can't take care of the whole buggerin' station on your own."
Nicholas sighed. "Nothing's in stone yet, but you're all getting a proper break. That's my word as your inspector."
Andrew nodded. "Right," he said. "I need to make sure your arseholes didn't wake Michael. Let yourselves out." He walked away slowly, leaving Danny and Nicholas in the front room. Nicholas and Danny stood silently, looking down at Doris, mumbling at nothing as she lay on the sofa. Nicholas sighed, turning back toward the door.
"Let's go, Danny," he said unevenly.
Nicholas stalked around the empty aisles, unable to decide on anything from the selection. For everything else Sandford lacked, somehow its library had become almost over-stocked. No doubt the NWA’s doing; some sort of plot to make the local youth seem well-rounded and properly educated. Couldn’t have the lot in Bufford Abbey, or any other neighbouring town stead, thinking that Sandford’s youth were all just a lot of graffiti-painting, hoodie-wearing, spitting brats up to general no good.
Though, it was clear from the overall state of everything in the library, that despite being over-stocked, even if the books were ever checked out, they were never actually read. None of the spines were broken, and there wasn’t a single doodle or swear word scrawled into a single page margin.
Then, Nicholas saw it; artificially yellowed cover and genuinely yellowed pages, stuck in amongst the biography section. Though, he had to admit that by the misguided logic that seemed to pass as common knowledge in Sandford, T.H. White’s classic wasn’t entirely out of place. He took the book up to the counter, stepping in line behind a woman and her two children.
“Oh, Inspector,” the librarian behind the counter chirped. “Go on ahead. I know you’ll bring it back.
Nicholas considered this for a fleeting moment as he checked his watch. “I’d feel better having a card,” he said honestly. He hadn’t had one in his name since university, and it had bothered him ever since leaving Canterbury.
When the small family was done with their checkouts, he stepped up to the counter, glad to fill out the required forms to get a new card.
“It’s all about being a role model,” he explained. “If we start bending the rules for the little things, the rules will start to get bent for the bigger things.”
The librarian nodded slowly. “S’pose you’re right,” she said. She got Nicholas’ new card in order and after stamping and scanning the book for him, she handed everything to the Inspector. He smiled politely at her as he left, carefully sliding his card into his wallet. He walked down the streets, enjoying the stillness that came with a small village after sunset. The courthouse was already mostly locked up, except for Kyle, reading a book of his own.
“Evenin’, Inspector,” he said.
Nicholas smiled gamely, knowing he could count on the younger Turner to not tell anybody he was in when he was meant to be at home, being a private civilian. If the Turner twins could ever be counted on for anything, it was not communicating with one another, ever. Nicholas made his way back to his office, laying the library copy of The Once and Future King on the corner of his desk. He booted up his computer, waiting for the email client to load. As to be expected, everything of great importance happened all at once, when he wasn’t around to deal with it. He quickly skimmed through various reports, until finally coming to the email he’d hoped to find; a reply from Inspector Partridge, dated earlier that afternoon. He opened the attachment contained, which immediately sent itself to his printer. Picking the sheet up from the tray, Nicholas read it over and sighed deeply. A list of names had been attached to the bottom; most names Nicholas knew, and every name from that category fell squarely into the “seriously annoyed Partridge at one point in life” category, so it was fair to assume that the names he didn’t know also fell into that category, leaving Nicholas high hopes for the coming weeks. He sat back down at his desk, and picked up the telephone, dialling the only number he knew from memory.
Nicholas ignored the crowd of officers huddled in the corridor as he introduced himself to new faces, and caught up with familiar. Most everyone he’d already known from the Met were sergeants, with one exception, who – to Nicholas’ great relief – was an inspector; the new – with one exception, a sergeant – were all constables. Nicholas showed the officers around the courthouse, and tried to explain the general layout of the village, failing spectacularly due to his poor knowledge of the surrounding area. The officers seemed eager enough, out of the rush of London and the Met for up to six weeks for some of them – the time scale depending how deeply under Partridge’s skin the individual had managed to squirm.
One again thanking the officers, he opened the door, letting them on their way, and ushering in his own crew, each of them looking anywhere but at Nicholas, and not saying a word. They all shuffled in, leaning against desks or walls, dreading the news of whatever Nicholas had wanted to tell them.
Nicholas watched the officers, knowing what was on their minds, and all but praying he wouldn’t massively fuck up and say the wrong thing. Luckily, Tony did it for him.
“So, that’s it, then?” he asked, staring at his shoes. “Our replacements? That lot from Lon-don?”
Nicholas sighed. “It’s not like that,” he assured. “I know... some of you are transferring out, anyway, but this extends to every one of you, regardless of where you’re going. You’re not being placed on suspensions. Any of you.”
Andy looked up, relieved. “Just being transferred out, then?” he asked.
“No.” Nicholas looked around the room simply. “Not unless you want to, which it’s my understanding that anybody who’s expressed this wish has already put in to do so.” No one moved. “Right. No, what’s going on is a station-wide mandatory sabbatical. Anyone who wishes is free to return to duty after two weeks, but not before. If you feel you need longer, you have a full calendar month.”
Tony and Danny looked up at one another, then slowly around the room.
“So...” Tony started nervously. “That lot out there. From Lon-don... they’re just ‘ere to... fill in?”
Nicholas nodded simply. “Yes,” he said. “And for those of you transferring out, this is all the way from London. So any time remaining after you transfer out is still yours.”
“I been thinking ‘bout that, Nick,” Andrew said, almost nervously.
“Station-wide,” Nicholas reminded him. “That includes myself. If you’ve any concerns, you’ll need to take them up with Inspector Douglas.”
Andrew nodded. Looking around the small room, he opened the door, effectively ending the meeting. He walked out to what had become the inquires desk, finding... one of the Turners reading. “Kyle,” Nicholas said.
“Kevin,” the sergeant barked.
“Whatever. Go home.” Nicholas watched as Sergeant Turner the older by two and a half minutes grumpily closed his book and stood up.
“Who’s gonna watch the desk, then?” he demanded.
“They’ll draw lots,” Nicholas said. “It doesn’t matter. And tell your brother he’s not to come in, either.”
“We weren’t shootin’ at people,” Turner tried to rationalize.
“No, but I seem to recall a building blowing up with you in it,” Nicholas pointed out. “Go home.”
Kevin Turner snorted as he walked out of the courthouse, probably to go off to some dark corner somewhere to read. Which didn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.
Nicholas was stretched out on the sofa with the open book laid across his chest when the front door opened, startling him awake. He sat up abruptly, relieved to see Danny letting himself in.
“Sorry,” Danny said quietly, letting the door shut softly behind him. “Didn’t realize you was taking a nap.”
Nicholas shook his head as he marked his page and put the book down on the table. “It’s fine,” he said. “I hadn’t meant to fall asleep this early. I think it’s the new medication.”
Danny frowned. “The other stuff wasn’t workin’?” he asked.
“No, it was,” Nicholas said as he got to his feet. “But my doctor wanted to try something new. Preventative, rather than a treatment.”
Danny nodded, though not entirely understanding. “Right,” he said quietly. He leaned nervously against the desk Nicholas kept by the front door. “So, why’s he ‘ere, then?” he asked.
“Who?” Nicholas asked.
“You know who.” Danny wasn’t looking at Nicholas, doing everything in his power to look anywhere but Nicholas. “You fuck off to Lon-don every other week, then it’s just awfully convenerent that you take leave and he comes into town.
Nicholas sighed deeply. “He’s doing me a favour,” he said. “He’s doing us a favour. We all need a break round here. We’ll go away, if you want. I’m not even allowed to do any police work for as long as the rest of you. Official or otherwise.”
Danny finally looked up at Nicholas, knowing that if there was one thing the man was piss-poor bad at, it was lying. “Tell me, right now,” he said, “that you ain’t done nothin’ with him.”
Nicholas shook his head lightly. “I’ve told you,” he said honestly. “I’ve not been with him since before I started seeing Janine. He’s just a friend. That’s all.”
Danny frowned. “Sure,” he said heavily. “I don’t like feelin’ like you’re not telling me everything, is all.”
“What’s there to tell?” Nicholas asked.
Danny only shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “You won’t talk about it.” He pushed himself from the desk and opened the front door. “Let you get back to your nap. Got things to do.”
Nicholas started to follow after him. “Danny...” he watched as the door shut, leaving him alone in a very quiet cottage.
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s: Like in the film
Word Count (chapter/total): 6,100 / 47,100
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Warnings: Danny's still feeling a lot neglected, and probably has good reason.
According to the dot points I have set up, about half of this chapter was not supposed to happen, but it feels like something that should have been included in the initial outline. For a character that wasn't even supposed to be in this story, Travis has developed beyond the point of just "supporting male" and has apparently become not only an integral part of Nicholas' relationship (or lack thereof) with Janine, but is also becoming a sticking point with his relationship with Danny. I've got Nicholas' entire relationship with Travis for this story mapped out in my head, and I'm not sure how much of that I'm able to be getting across.
A lot of Janine comes out in this chapter, too, and in that reveal, it also shows how much Angel has changed over the last year. A lot has happened to this man in a short period of time, and it's beginning to take its toll on him. Danny realizes there's more to the story than he's being told, but he's not quite ready to know the whole thing, yet.
And in case you have not twigged, (now) Chief Inspector Partridge = Steve Coogan.
Nicholas wandered through the crowd, not amazed at the complete lack of Travis. He should have known to just take the tube. At least leaving at a moment's notice meant he didn't have much to pack. He pushed his way through the crowd as politely as possible, making it out to the street relatively unharmed. Sighing to himself, he started to make his way to the tube station, startled by the shrill chirp of police sirens. He turned round quickly, noticing a patrol car parked across the street, flashing its lightly quickly for good measure. Glancing back and forth quickly, Nicholas darted across the road and let himself into the passenger seat.
"I'd reprimand you about jay walking, but we are in a hurry," Travis said as he put the car into drive before Nicholas even had a chance to fasten his seat belt.
"Sorry," he said. "It was a half-hour late into the station."
Travis turned onto the road, barely taking time to check for traffic. "Sun visor," he said simply.
Frowning, Nicholas flipped down the visor, finding a white envelope full of twenty pound notes. "What's this?" he asked.
"Getting you reimbursed properly was turning out to be a pain in the arse," Travis said. "Consider it your early Christmas gift."
Nicholas laughed lightly. "Just what I've always wanted." He slid the envelope into his jacket, leaning back into his seat. "Do we need to drive so quickly? he asked. "There are speed limits for a reason."
"I can turn on the sirens if you're that worried," Travis said stiffly.
Nicholas shrugged as he wrapped his jacket around himself more tightly, hoping traffic would allow for a quick nap before getting to the station.
For once, newly instated Chief Inspector Partridge was not smiling. He sat behind his desk, his jaw clenched tightly as he sat on the telephone, listening to whoever was on the other end doing their best at verbally assaulting him. Nicholas waited stiffly, trying not to move, lest he draw attention to himself. Finally, Partridge slammed the telephone down, staring hard at Nicholas.
"Well," he said flatly.
Nicholas shrugged. "Well?" he asked. "You called me out here. You tell me."
Partridge scowled at Nicholas and slammed down a folder stuffed with papers, faxed in with Sandford's seal on top. "Is this your idea of taking this piss, Angel?" he demanded. "Not enough for you to blow the station to kingdom come, but you're minutes away from burning down the courthouse, now?"
Nicholas leaned back, wondering if maybe it was Partridge taking the piss. "No..." he said slowly. "I didn't do anything of the sort. And the officers in question have been duly disciplined for their actions."
Partridge threw open the folder, pulling out a form at random. "If this is your idea of a joke, it's certainly not the least bit funny."
Nicholas stammered for a moment. "I...didn't do the documentation on it," he said. "My doctor should have sent in LOA forms before any of it happened. Sergeant Fisher is acting inspector in my absence."
"Funny," Partridge snapped. "Because I don't see his name on here, either. I'm seeing your predecessor, who -- need I remind you -- is awaiting sentencing in Brixton!"
Nicholas leaned forward and snatched up the forms from Partridge, his jaw dropping upon finding that Partridge was right. He looked over the forms, slowly realizing that something wasn't right. In fact, it was completely wrong. The handwriting didn't match Tony's lazy scrawl. It was looping and almost childish, yet completely legible -- more than could be said for half of the station. Putting the forms down, Nicholas sighed.
"Daniel Butterman," he said. "My other sergeant. He got his stripes about three weeks ago."
Partridge glared at Nicholas from across the desk. "And why, pray tell, do you have a man who's not been promoted a month doing your job?"
"Well, for one, my doctor's deemed me not fit for work," Nicholas reminded him heavily. "As for the other sergeant, he'll be dealt with."
Partridge continued to glare across his desk. "You've just got an answer for everything, haven't you?" he asked.
Nicholas narrowed his gaze. "I can't believe you just said that," he said. He sighed deeply as he got to his feet. "Now, is there anything else that could have easily been handled with a telephone call, or can I go back home?"
"Get the hell out of my office," Partridge grumbled.
Nicholas made his way to the door, stopping once he had it open. "Maybe you should keep out of my business, and mind your own officers," he said. "One or two of them are up for promotion."
"Out," Partridge snapped.
Nicholas shoved his hands into his pockets, and left the office, finding Travis sulking around the corner, doing a very poor job at not trying to listen in. "What was that all about, then?" he asked, falling into step along side the inspector.
Nicholas sighed. "My officers are destructive, not doing their jobs, and covering up for one another behind my back," he said. "Sandford's more like London than I thought."
Travis chuckled. "I knew this would happen," he said. "We sent you out there, and now we'll never see you again."
Nicholas shook his head. "That's not entirely true, you know," he said. "Partridge will always have something to want to reprimand me about." He pushed a door open for the two of them, falling back into step next to Travis. "There's nothing stopping you from coming out to see me, you know," he added.
"I was out there," Travis said flatly. "It smelled like petrol."
"London smells like petrol," Nicholas pointed out. "Sandford smells like... swans. And the fresh air would probably do you some good."
Travis sighed, but said nothing as they walked into the cafeteria. The two walked up to a coffee machine, which Travis fed a few coins. "How are things out there, by the way?" he asked. "Professionally."
Nicholas sighed. "I need help," he said defeatedly. "I'm losing officers left and right. Even I'm not officially supposed to be working, but I'm still going in at night to take care of some things." Travis looked at Nicholas silently. Nicholas could see in his friend's eyes guilt and regret, but he chose to ignore it. "I sent Partridge a request for backup, until we can get staffing back to an adequate level."
"I'll put my name down," Travis said quietly. "You need experience; not staffing."
"Yeah," Nicholas said quietly. They made their way to a small table in the corner, which overlooked the car park. Nicholas pulled out his mobile and turned the ringer back on, leaving it on the table. He sat hunched over the table, watching as Travis quietly drank his coffee. "If they need anything out there, it's experience," he said finally. "I'm not sure what's keeping me out there more; my contempt for Partridge, or that they need a real leader, instead of just ice cream."
"What?" Travis looked up sharply.
Nicholas shook his head. "Something In--Frank did," he explained. "Danny was in trouble for driving under the influence, and Frank's response was to have him buy ice cream out of pocket."
Travis frowned. "Why can't Inspector Arsehole do that?" he asked. "I filled out a form incorrectly and was fined ten pounds from my cheque."
Nicholas laughed lightly. "I'd have just put you on speed detail."
"Thanks," Travis said flatly.
Nicholas offered a wry smile, which faded entirely too quickly. Travis turned round quickly, groaning loudly. "Don't, mate," he warned. "Not worth it."
Nicholas looked pained at Travis for a brief moment before getting to his feet, slowly walking across the cafeteria.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Janine demanded before Nicholas even got to her table. "Nicholas, we're done."
"When are you going to want to talk?" he asked.
"With you?" Janine asked. "Never."
"We can't just keep ignoring things!" Nicholas insisted. He heard his mobile go off behind him, but ignored it. Travis picked it up, mashing the answer button by accident, aiming for the command to ignore the call.
"Shit," he hissed, bringing it to his ear. "Nick's mobile. He's busy right now being yelled at by his ex." He hung it up as he jumped to his feet, rushing over to Nicholas. He grabbed the inspector by the shoulders, trying to pull him away. When Nicholas refused to move, Travis turned to face Janine. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded. "I understand you're upset, but you've just been a bitch for no reason."
Janine got to her feet, stepping close to the men. Travis could feel Nicholas finally giving in, taking a step back, but Travis held his ground, keeping a tight hold on Nicholas' shoulders. "Travis, this is none of your goddamn business," she hissed.
"It is!" Travis snapped back. "I've known him a hell of a lot longer than you have, so I'd like to think I've got an invested interest in his well being." Nicholas tried to duck away, but Travis tightened his hold. "It hurt all of us; not just you."
"I didn't even want you in the family," Janine spat. "You were only named godfather because your dick was so far up his arse --"
"Never!" Nicholas barked, trying to lunge forward. It was a fair wrestle, but Travis managed to keep his hold on Nicholas, keeping he and Janine a safe distance.
"He never touched me when he was with you," Travis said. "And not since, like it even matters at this point." He and Janine stared heatedly at one another before Travis finally gave Nicholas a nudge toward the door. "S'go home, Nick," he said. Nicholas resisted a few moments before letting himself be led away. Travis glared across the room, making sure anyone who wasn't pretending their their muffins were the most interesting things in the world at that moment knew to keep their mouths shut long enough for them to leave.
With no possible way of knowing such a promise would be broken in less than six month's time, Nicholas swore to never again sleep in any chair made of formica. His neck felt as though it was seconds away from bursting into flames and then exploding, but everything in his brain told him to keep his damn mouth shut. He sat forward, cringing as every bone in his back and neck snapped violently. He reached over, lightly brushing a stray lock of hair from Janine's forehead. He was startled, jumping slightly, when a nurse let herself in.
"Oh," she said, seeming surprised to see Nicholas awake. She smiled warmly, going back to her business. "How's dad?" she asked.
Nicholas smiled, saying nothing. He was afraid that if he did say anything, he'd betray how completely and utterly terrified of life he had suddenly become. He could barely take care of himself some days, and at least Janine was equally self-sustaining, but now he was expected to care for himself, Janine, and now a brand new life.
"You two decide on a name, yet?" the nurse asked, tidying up bits around the room that didn't really need tidying up.
"Patrick," Nicholas answered.
"Jacob," Janine said over him. Nicholas jumped slightly, not aware that Janine had woken up.
"I thought we decided on Patrick," Nicholas said.
"You decided on Patrick," Janine said. "I was just in labour seven hours. We're naming him after my father."
Nicholas tried to frown, but he really couldn't find it in himself to argue with that logic. "Jacob Patrick," he offered.
Janine sighed. "Jacob Patrick?" she asked. "Yeah, I guess it has a nice ring."
"Angel," Nicholas said. "My parents are liable to kill me, otherwise.
Janine narrowed her gaze. "What makes you so certain I'm going to give him your name?" she asked.
"Because you really don't want to meet the fury of my parents," he said simply. "All Church of England, here. You wouldn't understand."
The nurse finished her tidying as quickly as possible, and rushed out of the room, silently cursing herself for having known better than to ask such a stupid question.
Janine tried to glare at him a few moments more, but broke into a light laughter. "Of course I'm naming him Angel, you idiot," she said. "I might have... told my parents that we're married, already."
"What?" Nicholas demanded.
"A private ceremony," Janine continued. "In Wells."
It was Nicholas' turn to try to stare her down. "Are you taking the piss?"
"You wore a white tux, but there are no photos, because the camera got wet."
Nicholas let his jaw go slack, as he laughed ironically. "Nice to know this now," he said. "A bit of advance warning, next time?"
Janine cringed. "About that," she said.
Nicholas lie face down in Travis' bed, listening to the soft sounds of the telly in the other room. He could hear his mobile chirping happily, and barely make out words as Travis answered it.
"I think he's asleep," Travis said, getting closer to the bedroom. "I'll check for you, though."
Nicholas held his hand out from under the duvet, clumsily accepting the mobile as he shifted to hold it to his ear.
"Angel," he said dryly.
"What was all that about earlier today, then?" Danny practically demanded from the other end.
Nicholas sighed. "Danny, I'm sorry," he said. "There was an...altercation."
"Yeah," Danny said heavily. "With your other ex, I know. And what happened with staying with your parents?"
"They're on holiday," Nicholas answered simply. "Didn't know I'd be coming in today." Danny remained silent for a few moments. "If it upsets you, I'll go to a hotel," Nicholas offered.
"No," Danny said, audibly deflating. "No sense in spendin' money you don't have. I'm just nervous, yeah?"
"I've only a few more trips out here, before things start going back to normal--"
"Things were shit when they were normal," Danny pointed out.
"Okay," Nicholas conceded. "Before things start being what will become the new normal. Then I'll be out in Sandford permanently."
"You gonna stop obsessering over your ex, then?" Danny asked.
Nicholas stuck on that point, going silent. "Hopefully," he said.
Maybe it was because he didn't actually pay for the ticket out of pocket, or -- a concept that had frightened him -- he'd taken the trip so many times, Nicholas found the train ride into Maxwell's station almost enjoyable. The rain wasn't splattering quite as hard on the windows, and what few children there were on the train were amazingly quiet. Nicholas finished the magazine given to him by the attendant, and had taken to just lying back with his headphones playing the assorted random nothing that Danny had taken upon himself to load onto the music player. He'd told Nicholas it would help him concentrate and relax. Of course, the first go round, the music choice had been iffy at best, but Danny seemed to have found a hidden cache from somewhere, of music Nicholas actually had heard. Nothing too hard or too mellow, but a good assortment of in-between.
He was startled out of his trance by the attendant as she reached down to pick up his magazine. He jumped sharply, pulling his headphones off.
"Sorry," Nicholas said with a light chuckle as he handed the motoring publication up to her. "Think I might have drifted away for a bit."
She smiled lightly. "S'all right," she said. Her smile seemed to fade as she looked down at Nicholas. "You're that copper, aren't you?" she asked. "The one from the telly."
Nicholas nodded lightly. "Yeah," he said.
The attendant frowned at him sympathetically. "I been wonderin' why I thought you looked so familiar," she said. "You're a very brave man. No tellin' what might've happened to all them folks if you hadn't come round."
"It was just timing," he assured her, though not entirely convinced, himself. "It was bound to be discovered by someone."
"All them people," the attendant continued. "You're a very good man for stickin' round after all that to help out."
Nicholas smiled at her again as she continued on her way, wondering exactly what was being written about him in the papers.
"Night out'll be good for you," Danny insisted, leading Nicholas down the cobblestone street. "You're either cooped up in your house, or working in Lon-don."
Nicholas shrugged. "I like the solitude," he reasoned.
Danny shook his head. "All that up in your head keepin' you comp'ny can't be healthy," he said.
Nicholas sighed as he let Danny lead him into the newly-reopened Crown, cleaned up slightly, but still charmingly rustic. Nicholas wandered off and found a secluded table while Danny made his way to the bar, picking up a couple of lagers. He found Nicholas quickly enough, setting the pints down on the table without managing to slosh their drinks about. "Anythin' you want to talk to me about?" he asked almost sharply.
Nicholas shrugged. "No?" he said, confused. "Something... you want to talk about?"
Danny shrugged. "I'd like to know what's been goin' on, is all," he said. "You'll tell that one bloke everything, and I don't even know when your damn birthday is."
"August," Nicholas answered. "But it's not a big deal."
"It is, though," Danny insisted. "Apparently, I missed it, and you never even told me."
Nicholas sighed. "It's really not a big deal," he said. "And you were in hospital, anyway. No sense in fretting about it when there were more pressing matters at hand."
Danny frowned at him. "That Sergeant Travis bloke knows all about you, and I don't know nothin'," he said.
Nicholas shook his head. "I've known him a long time," he said. "He's someone I've always held very closely."
Danny looked away, trying very hard not to make a scene. "You ought to learn to pick your words a bit better," he said. "Specially when I know you're sleepin' in his bed when you're in Lon-don."
Sighing, Nicholas looked down at the table. "I haven't done anything with him," he insisted. “I’m not completely sure what I need to say to get you to believe that.”
"Start talking to me!" Danny said, struggling to keep his voice at a proper indoor level. "You're not supposed to keep talking to your exes when you start goin' with somebody else."
Nicholas sighed again. "He's not my ex," he said rationally. "That would imply that there was a break-up of some sort."
Danny chewed his lip and looked away, drinking half of his lager. "That why she hates you, then?" he asked. "You fucked off with 'im, then?"
"We never technically dated," Nicholas said. "Travis and I, that is. We used to mess around, but that stopped when we were both still PC's."
"So it weren't nothin', then?" Danny asked, almost hopefully.
Nicholas hung his head slightly. "I do care about him," he admitted. "But not in that way. We've known one another since grammar school."
"Not much of a friend, do go shippin' you off to some village what no one ever heard of," Danny pointed out.
"He was told to do that," Nicholas said simply. "By an inspector who was in turn told to do it by the chief inspector."
Danny laughed bitterly. "Just passin' it down the line, eh?"
Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Basically, yes."
Danny finished off his lager, slamming the pint glass down on the table. "Still don't like 'im," he said. "He's a cunt."
"And that's your entitled opinion," Nicholas said, picking up his glass and taking a drink. "But he's still my friend, and I'm not about to stop keeping contact with him unless there's a good reason to."
"Thought being your ignored boyfriend would be reason enough," Danny muttered. Sighing, Nicholas hung his head again.
By Danny's fourth pint, and after Nicholas had finished off a basket of chips, Danny was finally smiling. Nicholas had barely touched his first pint, but Danny hardly noticed. He was out of the house, and not at work, and that was what mattered. Danny was happy to see Nicholas not being a policeman officer, and switched off, and Nicholas was happy just to see Danny happy. Still trying to piece together words to say to Danny, when an all too familiar cackle cut over the dull noise of the pub. Nicholas turned his head sharply, surprised to see Doris up at the bar, though what she was laughing at, Nicholas really couldn't tell. She appeared to be alone.
Frowning, he got to his feet and made his way to the constable, trying not to sneak up on her with her back turned. "Doris?" he asked cautiously.
Doris turned sharply round, her eyes seeming to light up. "Evenin', Chief," she said. "Wot you doin' 'ere so late?"
Nicholas shrugged. "Just enjoying a quiet evening," he said. "Are you alone? You can join us if you like."
Doris gazed across the pub, flashing Nicholas a sly look. "Korrr, don't want to interrupt you lot," she said, cackling madly again. "I'll probably just be nipping off, 'ere, anyway." She stepped down from the tall barstool, misjudging the height and falling forward. Nicholas lunged forward, grabbing her tightly by the waist.
"All right, Doris?" he asked.
Doris cackled in his ear. This close to her, he could smell the bitter on her breath.
"I think we ought to walk you home," Nicholas said.
"No, Chief," Doris said, trying to step away from him. "'M fine." Nicholas let her stand on her own, backing away slowly. When she tried to walk again, she stumbled, and again, Nicholas caught her.
"No, I'm walking you home," he said. "It's my responsibility."
Doris cackled again, spilling what was left of her bitter on Nicholas. "Kor, Chief. You coming on to me?" Nicholas rolled his eyes, looking across the pub at Danny. After a few moments, Danny finished his pint and rushed over to help Nicholas hold Doris up. "Danny, love!" Doris practically shouted. "You and the Chief getting some quality time, eh?"
Nicholas' face turned bright red as he looked away, his jaw clenched tightly.
"Just out for drinks," Danny said. "Gettin' 'im out of the house like his doctor wants."
"I've been in London for two days," Nicholas pointed out, wrapping his arm around Doris' waist. "How much more 'out of the house' can I get?" Doris shook with laughter as Danny took her pint glass away. She finally accepted their help, leaning on Nicholas more than was probably necessary. "Ready, Doris?" Nicholas asked.
"You lot coming home with me?" she asked. She awkwardly pounded Nicholas on the shoulder. "I'unno, Chief. Might be gettin' more 'an I bargained for with you."
"We're taking you home," Nicholas said simply, certain that his face could not possibly get any redder. "Now." He turned round, finding the bartender watching them idly. "Hers and ours on the station tab," he instructed. "I'll come by this week and take care of it."
The bartender nodded, watching as Danny helped Nicholas escort Doris out of the pub, barely able to keep a straight line.
Nicholas pounded on the door, ready to break it down if he had to. He knew he was probably waking the neighbours, but it was nothing they weren't already used to. Nicholas was just about to try to dig his mobile from his pockets when the door finally swung open.
"Nick, what the fuck?" Andrew asked, stepping outside to collect Doris from Nicholas and Danny. "What'd you do to her?"
"Brought her home." Nicholas said simply. "I don't think she's even conscious right now."
Andrew looked down at Doris, completely failing at keeping her on her feet. He dragged her inside, doing his best at lying her on the sofa. "How much she had to drink?" he demanded.
"I'm not sure," Nicholas said, inviting himself in. "We found her like that. I think we lost her crossing Norris."
"Jesus Christ," Andrew muttered. He rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at the woman on his sofa. "She said she was going out, not trying to fucking kill herself."
"What?" Nicholas asked, stepping forward nervously.
Andrew shook his head. "Nothin' like that," he said. "She's just been drinking more 'an usual, lately. If Dad knew, he'd kill me."
Nicholas shifted nervously. "Well, you'll all be getting a proper break soon," he said. "I know you've all been working hard, and it's appreciated. You deserve some time off."
Danny frowned, still fidgeting near the front door. "How you gonna manage that?" he asked accusingly. "Can't take care of the whole buggerin' station on your own."
Nicholas sighed. "Nothing's in stone yet, but you're all getting a proper break. That's my word as your inspector."
Andrew nodded. "Right," he said. "I need to make sure your arseholes didn't wake Michael. Let yourselves out." He walked away slowly, leaving Danny and Nicholas in the front room. Nicholas and Danny stood silently, looking down at Doris, mumbling at nothing as she lay on the sofa. Nicholas sighed, turning back toward the door.
"Let's go, Danny," he said unevenly.
Nicholas stalked around the empty aisles, unable to decide on anything from the selection. For everything else Sandford lacked, somehow its library had become almost over-stocked. No doubt the NWA’s doing; some sort of plot to make the local youth seem well-rounded and properly educated. Couldn’t have the lot in Bufford Abbey, or any other neighbouring town stead, thinking that Sandford’s youth were all just a lot of graffiti-painting, hoodie-wearing, spitting brats up to general no good.
Though, it was clear from the overall state of everything in the library, that despite being over-stocked, even if the books were ever checked out, they were never actually read. None of the spines were broken, and there wasn’t a single doodle or swear word scrawled into a single page margin.
Then, Nicholas saw it; artificially yellowed cover and genuinely yellowed pages, stuck in amongst the biography section. Though, he had to admit that by the misguided logic that seemed to pass as common knowledge in Sandford, T.H. White’s classic wasn’t entirely out of place. He took the book up to the counter, stepping in line behind a woman and her two children.
“Oh, Inspector,” the librarian behind the counter chirped. “Go on ahead. I know you’ll bring it back.
Nicholas considered this for a fleeting moment as he checked his watch. “I’d feel better having a card,” he said honestly. He hadn’t had one in his name since university, and it had bothered him ever since leaving Canterbury.
When the small family was done with their checkouts, he stepped up to the counter, glad to fill out the required forms to get a new card.
“It’s all about being a role model,” he explained. “If we start bending the rules for the little things, the rules will start to get bent for the bigger things.”
The librarian nodded slowly. “S’pose you’re right,” she said. She got Nicholas’ new card in order and after stamping and scanning the book for him, she handed everything to the Inspector. He smiled politely at her as he left, carefully sliding his card into his wallet. He walked down the streets, enjoying the stillness that came with a small village after sunset. The courthouse was already mostly locked up, except for Kyle, reading a book of his own.
“Evenin’, Inspector,” he said.
Nicholas smiled gamely, knowing he could count on the younger Turner to not tell anybody he was in when he was meant to be at home, being a private civilian. If the Turner twins could ever be counted on for anything, it was not communicating with one another, ever. Nicholas made his way back to his office, laying the library copy of The Once and Future King on the corner of his desk. He booted up his computer, waiting for the email client to load. As to be expected, everything of great importance happened all at once, when he wasn’t around to deal with it. He quickly skimmed through various reports, until finally coming to the email he’d hoped to find; a reply from Inspector Partridge, dated earlier that afternoon. He opened the attachment contained, which immediately sent itself to his printer. Picking the sheet up from the tray, Nicholas read it over and sighed deeply. A list of names had been attached to the bottom; most names Nicholas knew, and every name from that category fell squarely into the “seriously annoyed Partridge at one point in life” category, so it was fair to assume that the names he didn’t know also fell into that category, leaving Nicholas high hopes for the coming weeks. He sat back down at his desk, and picked up the telephone, dialling the only number he knew from memory.
Nicholas ignored the crowd of officers huddled in the corridor as he introduced himself to new faces, and caught up with familiar. Most everyone he’d already known from the Met were sergeants, with one exception, who – to Nicholas’ great relief – was an inspector; the new – with one exception, a sergeant – were all constables. Nicholas showed the officers around the courthouse, and tried to explain the general layout of the village, failing spectacularly due to his poor knowledge of the surrounding area. The officers seemed eager enough, out of the rush of London and the Met for up to six weeks for some of them – the time scale depending how deeply under Partridge’s skin the individual had managed to squirm.
One again thanking the officers, he opened the door, letting them on their way, and ushering in his own crew, each of them looking anywhere but at Nicholas, and not saying a word. They all shuffled in, leaning against desks or walls, dreading the news of whatever Nicholas had wanted to tell them.
Nicholas watched the officers, knowing what was on their minds, and all but praying he wouldn’t massively fuck up and say the wrong thing. Luckily, Tony did it for him.
“So, that’s it, then?” he asked, staring at his shoes. “Our replacements? That lot from Lon-don?”
Nicholas sighed. “It’s not like that,” he assured. “I know... some of you are transferring out, anyway, but this extends to every one of you, regardless of where you’re going. You’re not being placed on suspensions. Any of you.”
Andy looked up, relieved. “Just being transferred out, then?” he asked.
“No.” Nicholas looked around the room simply. “Not unless you want to, which it’s my understanding that anybody who’s expressed this wish has already put in to do so.” No one moved. “Right. No, what’s going on is a station-wide mandatory sabbatical. Anyone who wishes is free to return to duty after two weeks, but not before. If you feel you need longer, you have a full calendar month.”
Tony and Danny looked up at one another, then slowly around the room.
“So...” Tony started nervously. “That lot out there. From Lon-don... they’re just ‘ere to... fill in?”
Nicholas nodded simply. “Yes,” he said. “And for those of you transferring out, this is all the way from London. So any time remaining after you transfer out is still yours.”
“I been thinking ‘bout that, Nick,” Andrew said, almost nervously.
“Station-wide,” Nicholas reminded him. “That includes myself. If you’ve any concerns, you’ll need to take them up with Inspector Douglas.”
Andrew nodded. Looking around the small room, he opened the door, effectively ending the meeting. He walked out to what had become the inquires desk, finding... one of the Turners reading. “Kyle,” Nicholas said.
“Kevin,” the sergeant barked.
“Whatever. Go home.” Nicholas watched as Sergeant Turner the older by two and a half minutes grumpily closed his book and stood up.
“Who’s gonna watch the desk, then?” he demanded.
“They’ll draw lots,” Nicholas said. “It doesn’t matter. And tell your brother he’s not to come in, either.”
“We weren’t shootin’ at people,” Turner tried to rationalize.
“No, but I seem to recall a building blowing up with you in it,” Nicholas pointed out. “Go home.”
Kevin Turner snorted as he walked out of the courthouse, probably to go off to some dark corner somewhere to read. Which didn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.
Nicholas was stretched out on the sofa with the open book laid across his chest when the front door opened, startling him awake. He sat up abruptly, relieved to see Danny letting himself in.
“Sorry,” Danny said quietly, letting the door shut softly behind him. “Didn’t realize you was taking a nap.”
Nicholas shook his head as he marked his page and put the book down on the table. “It’s fine,” he said. “I hadn’t meant to fall asleep this early. I think it’s the new medication.”
Danny frowned. “The other stuff wasn’t workin’?” he asked.
“No, it was,” Nicholas said as he got to his feet. “But my doctor wanted to try something new. Preventative, rather than a treatment.”
Danny nodded, though not entirely understanding. “Right,” he said quietly. He leaned nervously against the desk Nicholas kept by the front door. “So, why’s he ‘ere, then?” he asked.
“Who?” Nicholas asked.
“You know who.” Danny wasn’t looking at Nicholas, doing everything in his power to look anywhere but Nicholas. “You fuck off to Lon-don every other week, then it’s just awfully convenerent that you take leave and he comes into town.
Nicholas sighed deeply. “He’s doing me a favour,” he said. “He’s doing us a favour. We all need a break round here. We’ll go away, if you want. I’m not even allowed to do any police work for as long as the rest of you. Official or otherwise.”
Danny finally looked up at Nicholas, knowing that if there was one thing the man was piss-poor bad at, it was lying. “Tell me, right now,” he said, “that you ain’t done nothin’ with him.”
Nicholas shook his head lightly. “I’ve told you,” he said honestly. “I’ve not been with him since before I started seeing Janine. He’s just a friend. That’s all.”
Danny frowned. “Sure,” he said heavily. “I don’t like feelin’ like you’re not telling me everything, is all.”
“What’s there to tell?” Nicholas asked.
Danny only shrugged. “Don’t know,” he said. “You won’t talk about it.” He pushed himself from the desk and opened the front door. “Let you get back to your nap. Got things to do.”
Nicholas started to follow after him. “Danny...” he watched as the door shut, leaving him alone in a very quiet cottage.