Title: Honeymoon Period

Rating: T

Category: AU (Death in London) – Sequel to "An Ocean Apart", which you will need to have read!

Summary: Did a husband murder his new bride to inherit her riches? If so, that's one hell of a short honeymoon period. And will Richard and Camille be able to solve the case before they kill each other?

A/N: I am working on this pretty heavily, but I thought I'd post the "teaser" before I finish the rest. To reiterate things will not always be the same as in episodes, because they won't always translate. The important thing really is the character development – and also coincidently the most fun bit!

He'd been checking his watch all morning, occasionally pulling out his phone and comparing the time on the two devices. Camille could see him in his office, clearly impatient for it to be time for something and she had to admit she was curious. It was the third day of her new assignment, she'd spent the first two away on decidedly dull courses intended to educate her on how things were done at The Met. However, at least on those courses she'd been away from him. Camille had hoped he might be a little calmer on her return, but judging by his behaviour today he was as tense as ever. He seemed to make a decision, leapt to his feet and walked through the bullpen without making eye contact with anyone. Camille decided since she didn't have any real detective work to do at the moment, perhaps she'd go find out what her new boss was up to.

Unfortunately the mystery was rapidly solved when he went down the corridor and knocked on the Superintendent's door. It would seem he was impatiently awaiting a meeting with her. Perhaps he was hoping to get rid of Camille after all, well good luck to him because at this point she'd probably jump at the chance. Oh well perhaps she'd stick her head inside the door of the Case Progression Unit and see Juliet, she had a question about Impact Nominal Index anyway – namely, what the hell is the Impact Nominal Index?

"Selina, you have to be winding me up, just let one of the other detectives look after her."

The use of her first name made it very clear to Selina that Richard was attempting to get a favour from her based on their past experiences together, as opposed to asking his superior officer. This amused her slightly, as if Richard had any professional reason for not wanting to be partnered to Camille Bordey than he would be approaching this the official way.

"Ok, you saved me a lot of hassle back when we were constables Richard, and yes you did even manage to save my life once, so I do owe you one. However I am not letting you call in that favour for something as, well, trivial as this."

"It is not trivial," he snapped, a little disrespectfully for Selina's liking. She gave him the raised eyebrow she'd perfected long ago, and he shifted and muttered an apology. "What I mean, Ma'am, is that I believe there will be frequent, um, intense clashes between us due to differences in…investigative style that the rest of the team may find, well, distracting."

He'd phrased that almost tactfully, which was a relief for her as Richard's blunt nature meant she was rather afraid he might not be suited to running a CID unit. "Look, the two of you will probably have a period of…I don't know, like the opposite of a honeymoon period. You'll fight all the time, but then eventually you'll get to know each other's rhythms and you'll settle down and work well as a team." He didn't reply to that, just gave her a look that clearly indicated his disbelief.

"It isn't going to happen Richard. Go on, Juliet is about to go on her break," she said dismissing him. She got quite a bit of satisfaction from the look of surprise on his face at her last comment, he really didn't understand the extent of her abilities to keep tabs on her staff.

"Yes, ma'am," he made to leave, then paused and turned. "Ma'am, I realise Juliet couldn't stay in CID because of her being my niece, but the Case Progression Unit does seem a little below her abilities."

"Uh," Nightingale didn't think she'd hesitated in giving a reply since her probationary days. "Well actually Richard, Juliet came to that decision with the HR department."

"She chose to go to the CPU?" Nightingale could understand his disbelief, it was not the life most officers would pick.

"She might be your niece but I can't discuss personnel meetings with you, come on you know better."

"Right, Ma'am."

Camille chatted amicably to Juliet about various databases for about ten minutes. She thought the young officer probably appreciated the interruption. She was sure Juliet must have had a reason to transfer to Case Progression Unit, and that was her business, but Camille still wished Juliet had something a little more entertaining to do. She left when Juliet said she had to go on break which she was spending in the basement canteen. Camille wasn't exactly due one and even if she was talking to Juliet probably counted. Maybe she'd go see if Eric had anything to do or if Arthur needed help with his reports. Just as she was thinking about him Arthur came bounding down the stairs happily, heading off in the direction of the Canteen as well. Camille should have known really. Arthur was so intent on getting to his destination he breezed right past her.

Before climbing back up to CID something caught her eye - she saw the Chief Inspector in the lobby glancing over his shoulder and heading out of the station. He looked nervous, like he was worried somebody was going to catch him, and curiosity got the better of her so she decided to follow. He turned off towards the park, winding through the crowds. Camille briefly got waylaid at the entrance to the tube when it spat out a bunch of commuters. This kept happening to her, she didn't understand how she could make her way through the central market in Honore with ease –even when various vendors were calling her name and procuring their goods directly under her nose. Perhaps that was it though – in the market on Saint Marie people were actually acknowledging your presence. In London, when people came out of the tube, they seemed all seemed to concentrating on staring at their phones, iPods or if they lacked either device the pavement, perhaps trying to grab a copy of one of those free newspapers, all whilst very intently avoiding any sort of eye contact. She couldn't understand it.

She caught up with her superior inside the park itself, buying a cup of tea from a café. He took a table outside, despite the unseasonably cold weather, and Camille was a little confused as to why he'd look so guilty about tea. Now the tea in the station was fine (not that she had really developed a taste for the stuff yet), nobody complained about it the way they did the coffee. But hey, if he was extra fussy over tea, who cared – though it could provide an opportunity for a little teasing. Then Camille saw him get a packet out of his coat pocket and knew exactly why he was here.

As she slid into the seat opposite him she said, "Well isn't this nice, and must be lovely in the summer but a bit chilly now!" She waved over a member of staff. "Just bring me the biggest, strongest, foamiest coffee you have please!"

"What are you doing here?" He was pretty pissed.

"You've been looking at your watch all afternoon, so when you left I followed you!"

"That's very underhand!" He protested.

"Well excuse me, Sir, but I'm not the one who snuck out of work in the middle of the afternoon! Why have you anyway?" She indicated the pack of cigarette. "I thought most people just use that smoking shelter round the back of the station."

"Well I came here so I could enjoy my cigarette in peace."

"Hey, you think I'm happy about being here? The way I see it we're stuck with each other, so we might as well start getting used to it!" She glared at him, but he met her look with one of equal insolence. Her coffee arrived and she smiled at it happily. "You don't strike me as a smoker, anyway," She said, trying to get a conversation going. Surely they'd have some sort of common ground they could, well not bond over exactly…just provide a safe topic to talk about.

"I'm not really. Started as part of a trust gaining exercise when I was undercover and got addicted to the bloody things. I'm down to one a day, which you are currently ruining by the way," he complained.

She thought about this for a moment, and then the reason for his being here to smoke suddenly became clear, "You were waiting for Juliet to go on her break! You have to walk past the Case Progression Unit to leave the station! Are you afraid of your petite niece catching you lighting up, Chief Inspector?"

"She'd kill me, and I imagine you wouldn't lift a finger to try and solve that particular murder," The Chief Inspector grumbled, and she smirked in return. "The only time I can get out safely is when she goes to the canteen for her break and I know she won't spot me."

Camille stirred her coffee, which was practically bucket sized, "You know at least the coffee here is decent, I thought I might be a bit spoiled by the wonderful home grown stuff we have on Saint Marie but it appears the British can make a decent cappuccino."

"Well the British had coffee plantations in Sri Lanka, but they were wiped out by an epidemic of Hemileia vastatrix so tea was planted instead, thus the British have a history of drinking coffee as well." Camille wasn't quite sure what he'd just said, and her face must have shown her confusion because he continued, "Hemileia vastatrix, coffee rust – it's a disease."

"Right," she said, not bothering to pretend to have found that little fact interesting. "Well your colonial history may mean you know how to make good coffee, but you know what you are missing – good rum."

"There's plenty of rum in London," he protested, sounding quite put out.

"Yes, but not rhum agricole, which is by far the best kind of rum," she countered teasingly.

"I don't believe anything French in origin could possibly be the best. You know maybe you just aren't looking hard enough, you could try a little farther afield than Richmond. I hear that Nottingham has a large Caribbean population, maybe you should transfer there."

"Your grumpy today, you should have that cigarette it might improve your mood," Camille knew she was being cheeky, but she thought it might be the only way she could cope with working with this man.

He glared at her, "I am not grumpy." Strangely, he made no move to light up.

"Are you going to have that cigarette or not? You have to get back before Juliet's break is over!"

He shifted a little, "Well you don't smoke so it's a bit rude, isn't it? Passive smoking and everything."

Camille couldn't believe her ears, suggesting she transfer to a city she'd vaguely heard of – and assumed was far away from London – that wasn't rude. Nor was apparently insulting the French when she was in fact half-French and he knew it. But lighting up in front of somebody who doesn't smoke, that he considered rude?

She was about to tell him that she had no intention of ever joining him again, so being exposed to one cigarette was unlikely to kill her, when a gun shot rang out from the direction of the woodland. Camille almost leapt to her feet to run towards it, but the Chief Inspector just shook his head at her. "Its deer culling season, that was a shot gun for sure – not the usual firearm we get in murders around here. Unless you're some bleeding heart liberal who considers trying to control the deer population murder."

Then the screaming started – and this Camille did run towards it.

A/N: Thanks to katedf who gave me some helpful advice.