A/N: Hello all! My exams are over in a few days and my writing bug is very definitely back and raring to go, so expect to see a lot of fics coming your way over the next few weeks! I was thinking about writing this for a while but then I saw Beth's challenge to write a fic involving a selfie and decided to get it written. Hope you enjoy it, as always feel free to drop me a review. Eden xxx
Disclaimer: I don't own New Tricks.
Selfie Shenanigans
"What's a selfie?" Brian asked suddenly, from his immaculately set out desk in the corner of the large office space.
"It's where you take a picture of yourself on your phone, all the kids are doing it these days." Gerry replied.
"How do you know?" Jack peered over his glasses, his eyes narrowed in mock suspicion.
"Caitlin took one with me the other Sunday and put it on Facebook or whatever it's called, I looked bloody awful." The younger man cringed at the thought of a photograph of him on Facebook, with a tea towel around his shoulders no less. Plus he had been bright red from a combination of the heat of the pans in the kitchen and the copious amount of beer he had already consumed that afternoon.
"Ooh lovely, bet that was a sight for sore eyes," Jack smirked. "Why'd you ask, anyway, Brian?"
The two men exchanged a glance as the other member of the trio didn't reply, too absorbed in whatever was on his laptop screen to hear the question put to him.
"Brian!" Jack shouted suddenly, making the man in question jump, inches away from spilling his tea all over his treasured computer.
"What?!"
"Why were you asking about selfies anyway?"
"Oh, that. I thought it was something serious. Erm, I got an email about a selfie competition or something like that the other week, it doesn't matter. Just curious."
"What, here? Bloody hell, something fun occurring within the Met building, who'd have thought it? What do you have to do?" The younger man asked, intrigued at the prospect of something to break up the tedium of the day.
"I don't know, it was on the office computer, I didn't even read it properly anyway. Haven't you got it?"
"Alright, alright, keep your hair on, I'll have a look." Gerry rolled his eyes, firing up his desktop.
"Aha! There it is," he exclaimed triumphantly five minutes later, after scrolling through the 271 unread emails in his inbox. "Here we go. The Met selfie competition. A prize of £100 worth of drinks at a pub or wine bar of your choice will go to whoever manages to take a selfie with the highest-ranking police officer possible. In the event of a tie, the prize will go to the most creative selfie. Only one rule: the high-ranking officer in question cannot be your friend or partner. Happy selfie taking. Hey, this sounds like a laugh actually, lads."
"Just one problem- how are we going to find an excuse to talk to the highest ranking officers to get a chance to take a selfie? The highest ranking person we have any reason to speak to is Strickland." Jack pointed out, a sceptical eyebrow raised.
"Yeah, and he may pretend he's the top dog, but upstairs he ain't." Gerry added, whilst Brian merely looked on in confusion.
"You aren't actually think of doing this, are you?" he questioned hesitantly whilst his colleagues thought deeply.
"I bloody am, for a hundred quid's worth of drinks. We could always ask Sandra to do it," he suggested.
Jack snorted ironically. "Yeah, I can really imagine Sandra taking an impromptu selfie in the middle of a meeting with the Commissioner, Gerry."
"No, I mean she could introduce us to people, you wally. Mindst you," he lowered his voice secretively, furtively glancing at the woman in question, "she's probably shagged half of 'em before now, a quick selfie wouldn't be too much to ask, would it?"
Jack also glanced at Sandra, yet more out of fear that she had heard Gerry's comment. Thankfully, she was still on the phone making inquiries, and even with her bat-like hearing, it was unlikely that she'd picked up his whispered remark.
"I doubt it, she gave that up years ago when she started getting promoted on her own merit."
Unbeknownst to the trio of men, their boss had been left on hold whilst calling the border agency, in the hope of tracking down a rather elusive relative of their current suspect. So, in her left ear, there was some soft jazz, but the right was perfectly attuned to the conversation ensuing in the main office in front of her. Hence, she was plotting the double murder of Gerry and Jack for those comments, the bastards. And she'd make damn sure she got away with it too.
The selfie competition seemed interesting though, she mused, wrapping the phone cord around her hand mindlessly. She wondered who had started it. Probably someone in human resources, surely they must get bored down there. Anyway, Gerry didn't have a chance in hell of winning. She barely ever saw the Commissioner, and she'd certainly never slept with him. He was like some kind of mythical figure who rarely descended from the hazy heights of upstairs into the everyday realm, and would never dream of visiting the dark depths of the UCOS basement. No, if you wanted to see the commissioner, you had to go to him. Where the hell was his office anyway? It was probably a blessing that she'd never been summoned there, but still, she ought to know where it was at least.
She sighed, her thoughts running away with her against the backdrop of the jazz music from the receiver that was beginning to burn her ear. It had been over half an hour now, she was amazed she'd had the patience to hold on this long. Oh, bugger it, she decided, slamming the phone down. Now seemed like a good time to go burn off the dynamic duo's ears too. She was just about to stand up when an email appeared in her inbox. Strickland summoning her to a meeting tomorrow, about reducing the use of paper in the building to become more environmentally friendly.
Brilliant, she smirked bitterly as she skim read the message, her brain not registering the word 'commissioner' until she had closed the programme. She frowned, re-opening it and reading the email again. The commissioner would be there. Hmm. No. She shook her head, rising from her seat. She was not going to take a selfie with the commissioner and lose her reputation and her own self-respect just for a few rounds of drinks. No way.
But, as the rebellious side of her mind from her youth that had never quite disappeared told her, it would mean beating Gerry at something. And that was her favourite pastime. Winning. Plus she was one point down since she'd lost that bet with him in the pub last week. This would be a big win too, larger than a bet. Worth a few points at least. No, the more rational, mature side of her conscious instructed her. It isn't worth it. You'll be a laughing stock, and you've just about regained your reputation from the whole dog shooting thing. She shook the thought out of her mind as she walked into the office, dismissing it as ridiculous. Putting her Detective Superintendent act firmly in place, she coughed loudly, drawing the attention of her team, all of whom shied away from making eye contact, the grained wood of their desks suddenly becoming very interesting. An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room as she paused for the pure dramatic effect. She loved this job sometimes.
Why hadn't she just taken the stairs? She mentally berated her decision as she stood pressed against the wall of the crowded lift the following morning, which, according the small plaque in the corner, was designed to hold eighteen people, yet was currently taking over twenty for to their different destinations. Never had the phrase 'like a tin of sardines' been more appropriate, she mused as a few people hurriedly exited on the fourth floor, only to be instantly replaced with a few more, including Strickland.
"Ah, Sandra," he said as he squeezed into the claustrophobically warm space. "I was hoping to catch you before the meeting, I meant to ask how the case is coming along?"
"Slowly," she admitted. "We're having some trouble tracking down the suspect's brother, who we believe has emigrated out of the country. I called the Border Agency yesterday but they put me on hold for over half an hour so I just gave up. I'll try again today though."
"Well if you have any more trouble with them, let me know and I'll put a call in." He said, indicating for her to precede him out of the lift and on to the fifth floor, where the majority of the conference rooms were located.
"Thank you," she smiled as she stepped out, thankful for the air conditioning which blew a much-needed cool breeze onto her face.
"I'm sorry for dragging you along to this, I know you'd rather be getting on with the case, but it wasn't my choice I'm afraid. The Commissioner wanted as many people involved as possible, seeing as it's an initiative affecting the whole building."
"It's okay, like I said, we aren't making much progress with it anyway, so I'm sure the boys can handle it. Is the commissioner an Eco warrior then?"
He chuckled. "You could say that. Apparently all the other large buildings in London went almost completely electronic years ago and he's under pressure to catch up, but I've seen plans for solar panels on the roof. And a roof garden to grow vegetables for the canteen."
"Lovely," she smirked. "Have you heard about this selfie competition?"
"Yes, people keep cornering me in the corridors for photos. Why, are you thinking of entering?"
"No, definitely not." She affirmed a little too forcefully. "But the boys are."
"Well, if you'd like me to introduce you to the Commissioner for them, now is the perfect opportunity. I must admit, I was tempted by the prize, but the Commissioner isn't exactly what you'd call…good-humoured."
She snorted as they finally arrived at the conference room, having navigated through the maze of corridors. Glancing through the sheet of glass, she saw that they were amongst the last ones to arrive. She quietly pushed open the door, crossing the room to take her seat at the long table, which was, of course, completely vacant of the usual paper, instead replaced with smartphones and tablets. The DAC sat to her left; she was seated next to a DCI who she vaguely recognised from CID. She glanced along the table, seeing who else was present at the meeting.
They were all in rank order, she realised; the DCI, her, Strickland, the Assistant Commissioner, and finally the Commissioner. Imagine if you took a selfie including the whole row, she thought. That would be a winner. Her eyes narrowed, the competitive side of her resurfacing again. Maybe they wouldn't notice if she quickly got her phone out. Of course they would, you idiot, the sensible half of her mind practically hissed. Which was true, the DCI and Strickland were each sat right next to her. But it would have been a great opportunity. She noticed the DAC glancing up and down the row, similarly to her, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. He caught her eye and they shared a look.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked hesitantly.
"If you've just noticed how we're all sat in rank order, then yes."
"But how are we going to... You know, take a selfie?"
"Right, ladies and gentlemen." The commissioner began loudly. "We're here today to discuss how we are going to transform this building into a beacon of environmental sustainability..."
"Well, it looks like we're going to have plenty of time to think about it," she whispered.
Finally, after an hour had passed in real time and an eternity in her head, the meeting was drawn to a close. They were all about to depart the room when Robert suddenly interjected.
"Wait." He said firmly, holding up his hands
"What is it, Robert?" the Assistant Commissioner questioned, his voice adopting a somewhat nervous tone.
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath whilst rapidly considering how to ask his bosses for a selfie without sounding like a complete and utter prat. "Sandra and I would like to ask if…we could take a selfie with you?"
The two men exchanged a glance, then directed their questioning gaze at Robert, looking at him as though his spaceship had just landed outside.
"A…what?" the Commissioner asked eventually.
"A selfie," she chipped in, attempting to rescue her boss. "It's where you take a photo of yourself on your phone."
"And…why do you want to take one with us?"
"There's a competition, in the station." Robert stated, having regained his voice from the sheer embarrassment that had momentarily paralysed it. "The winner has to take a selfie with the highest ranking officer. And I thought, well, we thought that seen as we're all here, and in rank order, no less, it would be a perfect opportunity…"
"Oh, I see." The Commissioner frowned. "What do we have to do?"
"You mean you'll do it?" Sandra asked in surprise.
"Yes, as long as it doesn't take too long, I've got a meeting with the mayor in ten minutes. I suppose a bit of fun is good to liven the place up somewhat, heavens knows we could use it sometimes." He smiled, as the rest of the group merely looked on in shock.
"That's great." The DAC smiled. "Um, right, well, Greg," he addressed the DCI at the end of the row. "If you wouldn't mind taking the photo seen as you're at the end, here's my phone, and if everyone could just move to the right a little bit…"
One week later…
"Ey, the winner of the selfie competition has been announced." Gerry said from his desk, attracting the attention of his two colleagues.
"What competition?" Brian asked, taking a gulp of his tea.
"That one where you had to take a selfie with a top officer, we were talking about it last week, remember?" Gerry rolled his eyes at his colleague's forgetfulness of recent events in contrast to the amazing recall of police records he possessed.
"Oh yeah, that one." He muttered, returning his focus to his laptop screen.
"Who's won it?" Jack questioned curiously.
"Hang on, let me open it. Let's see," Gerry squinted, searching the desk for his reading glasses. "The prize for best selfie goes to Detective Superintendent Pullman, with this stirling effort including not only the Commissioner, but also the AC, the DAC and DCI Hawkins as well. A truly brilliant picture and the £100 worth of drinks is well deserved. Thank you to all who took part, your selfies have been highly amusing." Comically, the three men slowly turned their heads in perfect synchronisation to their boss, who was stood in the doorway of her office.
"You? What? But how? You didn't even…how did you get them to…" Gerry questioned her in pure confusion.
"Sorry Gerald, that's confidential information. Top secret. Although," she grinned deliciously. "I do believe that's at least one point up for me, if not more."
She winked at Jack and stalked back into her office, resuming her work with a triumphant flourish. The older man simply grinned, safe in the knowledge that the lengths Sandra Pullman would go to in order to win something would never fail to amuse him.