Fanfiction
Infactuation
Part I
By Kate B (Webmaster)
Check Bolder case, call Manien, call back DI Pitchford. Check Boulder case, call Manien, call back DI Pitchford. Check Boulder case…
He lifted his head to the door, slipping back into the ‘Superintendent’
persona. “Come in.”
“Sir.”
Curly blonde hair, sharp features, always a second agenda. “Debbie, what
can I do for you?”
She stopped short of his desk. “DI Pitchford from the National Crime Squad
called, wanted an update on the money laundering operation.”
“Have you asked DI Cullen about it?”
“Duncan says he’s out Sir, I checked his office but he seems to
not be there.”
“Right,” He searched for an alternative, “Well we’ve
gotta move fast on this, why don’t you suggest to DCI Meadows to assign
another officer to the case to keep things moving?”
“Already has, Sir. We’ve got Spears on it as well, but I’m
flat out so I can’t update her.”
He smiled at the idea but only on the inside- the Superintendent, after all,
couldn’t be seen to be favouring officers, but nevertheless… “Debbie,
why don’t you send her here, I’ll bring her up to speed as I’ve
had a close eye on the case.”
“Sure Sir, thankyou Sir.”
He rubbed his eyebrow, trying to get the details straight in his
head. So okay, maybe a ‘close eye’ wasn’t as accurate-er description
as his knowledge warranted, but still, other than to physically go to CID, having
her sent to him was an opportunity he never turned down.
He was waken from thought by the knock at the door, “Ah, come in.”
“Sir?”
He couldn’t help smiling at her, if not only to have her smile back at
the very least. Maybe DC Kate Spears wasn’t built like Claudia Schiffer,
but she was extremely cute; petite too, he towered over her- always a good thing.
Her almost black hair hung loosely over her shoulders and shone even more under
the harsh office light, big brown eyes and soft lips smiling back at him.
The sofa in this situation seemed the clever option- to be that far away from
her it was either there, or standing up. “Kate, come in, take a seat.”
He noticed where she settled- in the middle of the left cushion,
his hopes jumping a little, and he leaned forward, just. “So, Debbie tells
me you haven’t had the basics on this case yet, but why don’t you
tell me what you do know.”
“Okay, Sir. George Baretta owns warehouses here and across…”
His brain tuned out to her talking when he inhaled her perfume- it wasn’t
anything new from her regular scent but still made his heart leap a little.
He nodded in a knowing fashion, pretending to comprehend whatever the heck she
was going on about. “Mm.”
“…meaning his suppliers aren’t interested in foreign trading
with multi-nationals like other firms, but he still has a lead on the rest of
the market.”
Her ‘explanation’ had gone long enough, he decided, it was time
to explain everything he knew about the case whether she’d just said it
to him or not. “Okay, I’m going to have to stop you there, given
what you know, I think the simplest thing is to just go from the top.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay, Sir.”
He liked many things about this young detective. One of the things he liked
the most was her willingness to please him. He knew from her CV she’d
gone far for the twenty-something…alright, maybe thirty-something DC that
she was, however she’d managed to get that high in such a short time possibly
was because she was eager to please. Or perhaps it was because her prior bosses
had gone ‘further’ with her than he had…so far. In any case,
if that were the case, what on earth was he doing just sitting opposite her…yet,
he didn’t dare move too quickly, in case she was untouched by prior authority,
still a one of the few ‘flowers’ of the perpetually dyke Met. He
snapped from his trail of thought to the considerably shorter trail of the impeding
case. Right…at the centre is…”
Petunias. Or maybe wildflowers. Somewhere between there, he decided, she smelt
like. Through the bar-like blinds on his office window, he watched her open
the door to her hatchback, preparing to climb in when she stopped and turned-
Mickey Webb. She closed the door and started talking to him. He couldn’t
contain the pangs of jealousy stabbing him in his stomach, eyes forming slits
as Mickey rubbed her forearm.
“Sir?”
He hated when he would just walk in there like he owned the place, just because
on the odd occasion he would call him ‘Tom’.
“Would you knock before you come in!?”
“Sorry, Sir- I did, you didn’t answer.”
His eyes drooped, irritated by allowing himself to get preoccupied with watching
a junior officer. “Okay, what’s the problem.”
It was only now he saw Alex’s eyes wearing into him like the bore of a
drill. “You let the DCI assign an officer to my case.”
“And?”
“You didn’t even bother to inform me.”
“You were busy.”
“You knew exactly where I was.”
He knew he was in the wrong. Besides, he couldn’t handle that icy glare
anymore.
“What pisses me off, Sir, is that I know exactly why you did it.”
“Well then, Alex, we both know each other’s secrets- whose going
to fire first, if anyone.” He settled at his desk.
Alex neared the desk, standing at the risqué edge rather than the more
conservative step-back. “It’s not a matter of fire, you’re
the Superintendent. You can’t afford to get away with it.”
It was easier to deny PC Becket and DC Jarrat than answer that- he laughed.
“I’m not kidding, Tom. This station has been in recent disarray.
You can’t just chase battering eyelids and a cute behinds because you
felt like it.”
“Well maybe I don’t just ‘feel like it’…”
He mumbled so softly he wasn’t sure he’d uttered the words, let
alone their implications, “It may be your CID but it’s my station.”
“We’re gonna have a queued-up orgy, personalised service, ‘one-on-one’.”
Alex was really pissed off…so maybe DC Jarrat did botch collection of
the butcher’s knife at the scene because of their ‘fling’,
but it turned out to be irrelevant evidence anyway. He stood up, hands in the
air for emphasis. “Now hold on…”
“I know you, Tom. I know stuff about you that your newest thing may not
want to know. I’m not saying she’s gonna find out if you don’t
let go of it, but I know she isn’t worth a cent more than the others you’ve
had hook, line and sinker in the past. Do what you want, just not on my relief.”
He was relieved when he’d slammed the door behind him- meant he was gone.
Besides, how would he know or not she’s worth more than the rest. How
would he indeed.
Last Updated: Tuesday, 13 July, 2004 1:51 PM