It was a day he would come to try and remember all he could about, but at the time it had not seemed like much. Another day in the office, between cases. It was bound to feel dull after the excitement of his previous work. Van slipped sideways, away from the hubbub in the corridor, and into the coffee break room, hoping for some piece. He could hear soft and somewhat genteel cursing coming from behind him as he closed the door, and when he turned, it was to see a small, red-haired woman fiddling with the coffee machine, which was responding, as usual, with gargles and clunks and precisely no coffee at all. Van had other things on his mind. What happened if they found out? Admittedly, his hands were clean. He hadn't flipped the van, not directly. Just turned a blind eye. But even so, if it came out, if it ever came out, then he was finished. As it was, if the depth of his involvement with her ever got further than the Inspector, his career was finished, at best. Van was still turning over the problem in his head when the woman in front of him gave the coffee machine one last bash, and gave up. She turned round, and almost ran straight into him. There was a moment of flustered embarrassment on her part, and then Van looked down. She was actually quite pretty, he noticed. The woman looked up.
"I'm Ford. Jenny Ford. Sorry…" The woman trailed off. Van continued looking at her.
"You're new, right?" Ford nodded. Van cracked a smile. Ford, after a pause, responded. Van slipped past her. "You have to give it a bash, really. Bit of muscle into it," he said, and smacked the coffee machine on the side. It chuntered once more, and then coffee finally poured out of the tube, and into the cup Ford had left underneath. Van offered it back to her, and she took it with a smile.
"I'm really more of a thinker. A pen pusher. I almost got a proper position in the filing branch, you know, of the main force. Almost…" Her voice trailed off. Van felt a little bad. It couldn't be nice to be stuck down here, in the oddball section, interesting as he did find it personally. Van clapped his new colleague on the back with his left hand, as his right was still swathed in bandages.
"It's okay here once you get to know it. You'll probably end up working with me, at least some of the time, but you'll get to push pens if that what you want to do. Reports and the like. Filing. Like a regular professor." Ford's smile widened. She held the coffee mug in both hands, as if warming herself with it. Van was about to offer to give her a whistle-stop tour of the facility, but as he prepared to open his mouth, a claxon rang from outside, in the corridor. Van pushed past Ford, and made a move towards the door. He turned back to Ford.
"I'll see you around. They probably need my help." Ford waved, an odd gesture. Van returned the sentiment with a raised hand of parting, and then pulled open the door and moved out into the suddenly empty corridor. Of course, when his work was to be done, he had to actively look for help. Van instinctively reached for his pistol, but the service pistol he had lost in his last big case was still missing. Van stuck his head back into the room.
"First case. Come on." Ford looked up at him.
"Me? You want me?" Van simply nodded. Ford hopped up from her seat, and moved towards him. She left the half-empty mug on the table. Van held the door for her, and the two moved towards the exit. This was going to be interesting.