Date began: May 29, 2006
Date finished:
Dedication: For the cast, and the crew, of the show we love so much
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to the writer. They remain property of Channel 7 and Southern Star.
Song Credits: Mental As Anything, Missy Higgins
Note: Hey fellas! I decided to take the plunge and attempt a Tom fic. Not often done is it? Anyways, this fic is a look back at Blue Heelers as a whole, through the eyes of the Boss. It most likely won't have any new storylines…just a look back at the old ones, and at the characters. So if anything sounds familiar it's because you've seen it in an ep! I get the feeling it could turn out to be very long, as we do have 13 seasons to cover here, and so perhaps I will post it in season by season chapters! Anyways, enjoy…and leave feedback please!
© Riss 2006/2007
Bui Doi – The Dust of Life
I wanted this posting so much, I think I built up my expectations higher than I should have. Because when we first settled back here, Nell and I, and Mt Thomas was officially my home base, it didn't feel as good as I thought it would. I had a fine bunch of colleagues, a great sergeant, and it was always smooth sailing. But maybe that was the problem. So it wasn't until 1990, by which time I was a sergeant, that I finally felt settled in the job. I had Nick and I had Wayne, and they were both good blokes. I could rely on them.
Then we got PJ. Suddenly my little Mt Thomas was expanding. I was surprised, but not afraid. If we needed a CI, then we needed a CI. And PJ seemed like a good enough sort of a bloke. Bit high and mighty – you get that when they've come from the city, and all us country folk have a good chuckle at them their first week in town. Then they settle in. I admit, it took PJ a bit more than a week to settle in, but I forgave him. He had that drive that we all have, except he wasn't content to let it fester inside him in private. He made sure we all knew that he wanted to be macho man detective. Over the years, he settled down, and we grew to have a fantastic friendship. He grew into one of the most respected and admired detectives in the business. Everyone should learn how to be a detective from PJ.
So for almost six years it was a boys club. Nick, Wayne, PJ and I. We got things done, and every night congratulated ourselves with a beer at the bar. Never did we think our testosterone levels would be beat down by one little blonde constable, like all the others, fresh from the hustle and bustle of the city. But she walked into this town and changed it forever. At first I used to think it wasn't for the better. But now she's gone, I know it was.
PJ told me he pulled her over for no other reason than she was the lucky one that day. Nick tells a very different story. It wouldn't surprise me if he knew from that very first day that Maggie and PJ would end up having the relationship that they did. He's good like that – knows what you're thinking before you do. In typical PJ style, he pulled her over, tried to act the suave debonaire fella and looked down at her through his aviators. She responded just as spritely and half promised to allow him to buy her a drink that night at the pub. And the rest, as they say, is history. She spat vodka all over him, and there was the beginning of a match made in heaven (and sometimes hell!).
I am Mr Natural
You can call me Mr Natural
But before all that happened, she came to see me. I'd just got off the phone to Henry Roberts wife, who told me her husband was about to shoot Ted Clarkson's bull. Henry and Ted had never gotten on, for as long as I'd known them, so it wasn't the best idea to have them as neighbours. But that they were, and when they had their rifles out everyone should've taken cover. So for this little blonde thing to come knocking on the door of my station when I was needed out there to stop these two mad farmers, I was not in the best of moods, and did not have much patience to deal with her.
"What can I do for you girlie?" as soon as I'd said it I wanted to take it back because I could hear Nell's voice in the back of my head telling me how derogatory it felt to be called girlie. But Maggie Doyle didn't bat an eyelid. I had to laugh when she told me she was most certainly not a girlie, and that she was my new constable. I have to admit – I was hoping for another bloke. Then the boys and I could continue our fine traditions with someone who understood us.
Then she broke the really bad news. Pat Doyle's daughter. I should've known that old dinosaur would get revenge on me one day. I was just hoping it wouldn't be that day. But there she was, standing in front of me, looking all of about 15, with her strawberry blonde hair and her red parka eager to leap into the world of crime. Oh she had a lot to learn, and not just about the police force.
And I plonked her right in it. Her first day I nearly had a coronary when she admitted she'd shot four nice big holes in the four wheel drive. Could she have done anything worse? It ticked me off that Wayne stood up for her so much, but I suppose I should've expected it. He always stood up for his mates. One of the best attributes he had. Still, I was wary of Maggie, no matter how much Wayne tried to talk her up, and no matter how much I knew anything made by Pat Doyle would be good. As I leant back in my chair and rubbed at my eyes that day Doherty's dog met a terrible death, I forced myself to give her a chance. I had to, or else this would never work. So I let it go. I didn't blow my top at the both of them. I had to let them show me what else they were made of.
Wayne showed me what he was made of time and time again every time he put on that uniform. I didn't realise how much of a bond I'd formed with my little crew until one of them was in danger. The day Wayne was shot knocked some sense into me. These kids were my flock. They were like my own. And I had to take better care of them. I even extended my wing to shelter Mrs. Patterson too – she was as much a part of the team as my Nell was. It was probably about then that I started to neglect Nell though. But when Wayne was shot, I am ashamed to say the last person I was thinking about was Nell.
Over my years in this job I've come to realise what a secret society we are. Well, maybe not secret…more of a little religion. We're one of a kind. We look out for our own. And because we all do the same thing day in, day out, we know how each other thinks. We can anticipate reactions. We can read minds during a pursuit. We can jump in at just the right moment and save a colleague from a bullet. So when one of us is hurt, we all feel it. I tried to explain it to Roz once upon a time – Wayne's teetering with the dangerous side of police work and football time and time again – when he was shot we all felt vulnerable. It could just as easily have been one of us. She couldn't understand, the way no police wife or girlfriend or daughter or son can understand our dedication to our jobs, despite the danger they entail, but I tried, with everything I had, to convince her that he knew what he was getting into everyday when he came to work, and I admired him that courage. We all did.