A/N: Quick idea that popped into my head while writing an exam. I had lots of fun writing it. Enjoy.

Published: 9 November 2015

-DI SHITFACE-

As per tradition, Hardy started poking at the radio when they started driving. And again, on cue, Miller snapped that if he never found anything he liked, why even bothered. His crossed his arms and his dark eyes looked straight at the road. Miller suppressed a grin. He knew she was right.

The drive wasn't completely silent. He explained some of the Sandbrook case on the way down to his old hometown. She had to really drag the stories out of him. He didn't like speaking about Sandbrook. Nevertheless, she was surprised to learn all the different theories he had about what happened to Lisa and Pippa. When he was halfway through explaining the nightmare story of how he found Pippa in the river, her phone rung.

She answered it on speakerphone, and the raucous voice of Bob Daniels, a fellow Broadchruch PC, blurts through the car.

"Hello Ellie."

"Bob! How's it going?"

"Good, good. Wife's good. Kids – well that's why I'm calling."

"How are the little girls? I saw Caitlin the other day on her roller-skates."

"Oh yes. She loves those things - insisted I got her and Lily pick ones. Had to buy them online. Cost an arm and a leg."

Miller gave one of her artificial giggles. "Anything for your little girls."

Hardy looked drenched in boredom as Bob continued with the small talk. Miller had this amazing way of being interested in everyone's lives – a talent he's never had.

"Anyway Ellie, I'm just calling to say Tom's over at my place." He said.

Miller's mood changed. "Tom? Why on earth? He's supposed to be at his aunt's…"

"I know, and he told me that. I would have told your sister but I don't have her number. He, Lily and a few other kids from school are all watching a movie."

Ellie gave a slight frown. She through of the last time she and Tom spoke about girls. His nose crunched up at he suddenly changed the subject to him and Danny's soccer game. And now her little boy was going to a girl – mind girls' – houses. Ellie guessed so much had changed with Tom since Danny died.

"I just thought I'd let you know." Bob said.

"Thanks, Bob. Greatly appreciated. Please send him home after the movie ends. He's supposed to be helping Lucy with Fred."

"Okay. Will do. So what are your plans this weekend?"

"I'm driving Hardy up to Sandbrook."

"DI Hardy! Shame you poor thing, Ellie. I would hate nothing more-"

"Bob, you're on -" Ellie said quickly, glancing at Hardy beside her. He stiffened up. But Bob wasn't listening.

"Do you have to spend the whole weekend with him? No really, I feel your agony-"

"Bob…" Ellie protested.

"The whole weekend? Breakfast, lunch and dinner… Wait does he actually eat? You know what James said when he left? Well I guess we all said it: 'Now that Shitface left for medical, people can put food back in the fridge'." Bob said, sounding amused with himself. "Shame, poor bloke. Is he still in town? Wait, why would you know? You're too good to be spending your days with DI Shitface."

Ellie's eyes were as round as saucepans. She muttered something to Bob quickly, and he said: "Okay. See you Monday, Ellie. Bye."

"Bye then."

"Best of luck with Shitface."

He hung up.

Very slowly, she cooked her head in Hardy's direction. He was looking at her with what could only be described as extreme exasperation. Ellie felt like she was just caught stealing cookies from the jar.

"Is that what they call me? Shitface?" he said it bitterly.

Ellie beamed. "Very creative, right."

He did not look impressed.

"Relax. Only some of the uniforms said it, a few PC's, only the idiots really."

"Brilliant." He sighed, closing his eyes.

"They're uniforms. They still green. They get up to all sort of jazz. You should hear what they call Jenkinson."

"Stop trying to sugarcoat everything, Miller! I know they all hated me."

"Bob didn't hate you. Neither do I, for that matter."

"You're sugarcoating, Miller..."

She left it there, at least for a few minutes. She turned on the radio on one of the upbeat stations. She wanted to hear someone that wasn't drenched in their own misery. But the radio was too happy. Too positive. Songs of falling in love and parties and dancing… It overwhelmed her. It was like eating teaspoons of sugar after something very salty.

Maybe that was her problem – she was too positive. After all, she did have a tenancy to make everything sound fine, when maybe it wasn't. Maybe Bob Daniels wasn't Hardy's biggest fan after all. Maybe Hardy didn't have a biggest fan. She peered at the man beside her. He leaned with his forehead against the glass, like he was so desperate to not be here. To be away from everything. To be anything but himself.

"Do you really think I'd agree to being your personal taxi if I hated you, Hardy?"

He looked at her, alarmed. She jerked the radio off again.

"I don't hate you." Ellie said. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"Thanks, Miller."

"Stop being so sarcastic." She scorned. Hardy looked over at her. Mad curly hair inching over her face, eyes focused on the road - clearly pissed off.

Hardy couldn't think what her problem was. He was sarcastic all the bloody time. Maybe he pushed her too far. He did that with Tess too. Unlike Tess, Miller had a way of making him want to keep the peace.

"Shitface." He repeated. "You're right. Not very creative. Is that the best they could come up with? There is so much more they could have used."

Miller smiled a small smile. "I know. They pick you bloody beard, of all things. They could have used the fact that you're a Scot and you don't eat Fish and Chips. Or that you were born in a suit. Oh, and that you're skinnier than Slenderman."

"Or the fact that I'm a wanker."

"Exactly!" Ellie said.

"Who's Slenderman?" he asked.

"Wanker" Ellie said. She laughed. He grinned.

A few minutes later, they flicked on the radio again.