I don't own New Tricks or any of the I did though.
Journeys.
Bliss.4 hours in a car with Strickland. My idea of heaven. I don't know why he picked me to go to the conference with him, he knew I wouldn't be interested. Idiot. And why it's in Birmingham, I have no idea. London's the capital city, for god's sake, it's common sense that they should hold it there. Idiots.
I'm driving. It's better than just being sat there, staring out the window, listening to him drone on about procedures and all that crap. So here I am, doing 80 on the motorway, with Strickland glancing at the speedometer every two seconds, looking a bit frightened. Never mind.
2 hours later…
"Bloody traffic!!" There's about a mile of traffic in front of us, not really moving anywhere. Yippee, more quality time with Strickland.
"We're going to be late" he sighs "The Commissioner will kill us"
"I'll kill you" I mutter.
"What?"
"Nothing, sir" I smile, fake sweetly.