It was a familiar scene on a Friday night at Crowley Police Station in Oxford. Detective Inspector Endeavour Morse sat hunched over her desk with case files covering the top. Under the warm glow of a metal desk lamp, slim limbs casting bony shadows like tree branches across the wall to Thursday's office. She was all angles, mid-twenties, with short, wavy strawberry blonde hair in a boyish cropped cut with bangs. Morse wore limited makeup to work, just some light mascara and powder. With her youthful, fair, lightly freckled complexion, this was all she needed.
Due to societal standards, business professional dress still meant skirts and pantyhose for women instead of the suits and overcoats that were her colleagues wore. Morse typically wore a suit skirt, at an acceptable knee length, similar to what the WPC's wore, opaque or nude pantyhose, sensible flat, leather, lace-up type dress shoes, (for the running that was inevitably involved in detective work) and button up dress shirts, in white or light blue. She also frequently wore a matching suit jacket, because a.) she was almost always cold and b.) it helped her shoulders look less stooped, giving her a more imposing image.
Strange would mentally describe her as thin and waif like, she had a dainty, childlike, angular face, and sea foam blue eyes. Not unlike the storybook fairies that he saw in picture books as a child. Obviously underweight, her thin waist was visible only when she removed her suit jacket. And this was usually when she had been at the station for more than 14 hours. Only then would he see her without a jacket, sleeves rolled up to her elbows revealing a silver tone women's watch with black leather band, freckly arms, and an additional button of her dress shirt undone. Always accompanied by a perplexed look and hands on her hips staring at the evidence window, releasing an exasperated sigh, scratching the nape of her neck, as she was in the habit of doing.
Morse also owned one khaki rain coat that was very plain for a woman. It was very similar to a bloke's trench coat, in fact, he wouldn't be surprised if it was indeed a men's overcoat for it fit slightly large on her with the sleeves rolled up, hands always shoved awkwardly in the pockets. Her goal was never to give any doubt to being less capable or abiding by different rules than the men. The last thing she needed was for someone to second guess her abilities, and dressing in a conservative, non-attention seeking way was how. She blended in with her colleagues, sans tie and trousers.
First one in, last one out was just how the young DI operated. Only through long hours of toil, was she able to come up with her seemingly effortless breakthroughs on the most challenging cases. Leaving Thursday impressed and everyone else filled with spite because they had been bested by a woman. Inspector Thursday, DS Jakes, and had already left, it was nearly 8 o'clock on a Friday night. They had no major case and the station was empty aside from a couple of constables left on duty.
"Finishing up matey?" Constable Strange said as he rose to leave. Strange had gotten into the habit of calling her matey to add casualness and emphasize equality to their relationship, despite the gender gap, and he was grateful she had never objected or seemed to notice. It must have been hard being the only woman in the station; other than one other WPC and WPC Trewlove. Not only that, but the only woman detective in most of England, he knew she had hard shoes to fill. To add insult to injury, Morse wasn't conventionally attractive in the standard, big up top, with legs for miles way, that turned most blokes heads. And couple that with the somewhat aloof personality, she needed all the friends she could get.
"You know what they say…" Strange added.
"No, what do they say?" Morse replied dully, without looking up from the files.
"All work no play makes Jack a dull boy."
Morse didn't reply and continued to read the files unphased.
"I was heading to the White Horse, wanna come?"
"No, thank you", replied Morse, finally looking up.
"Some other time." Morse said with a flash of a brief, closed lip, smile that warmed her eyes.
That was the only kind of smile Morse seemed to have, closed lip. It wasn't often that he was honored with it's presence, but when he was, he cherished it. Strange turned and began to walk out.
"Alright matey, I was just gonna review some of my book for the sergeant's exam." Strange said, slowly continuing to walk out.
Morse let out a sigh, "In that case," Morse said quickly and in a louder tone.
Strange stopped dead in his tracks smirked to himself and then turned to face the DI with a curious look.
"In that case, I'll come," said Morse, stated mater of factly, repeating herself in a softer tone so the constables in the other room wouldn't hear.
"But only after I've finished reading these case files." She added quickly looking down at the page.
"I'll see you around 9." she said still looking down.
"Good." Strange said with a grin and left.
AUTHOR NOTE:
*How I imagine (female) Morse? Like Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby