"Doctor, I think this is your round." Inspector Robert Lewis held out his empty glass and swirled the dregs. Congenially, Dr. Laura Hobson collected it, along with the empty pint glass held out by Sergeant James Hathaway, and headed for the bar. Lewis had lost track of how many rounds they had shared, but since he had generously offered to be the group's designated driver and was quaffing mere orange juice, he was feeling no effects from the hours they had spent in the pub that Friday evening. He wasn't sure the same could be said for his two companions.
They were celebrating the successful conclusion of a tricky case. It had seemed open-and-shut at first, death caused by an accidental tumble down a steep staircase. But something had not smelled right about the case, and it was Hathaway who pushed for checking the victim's fingernails for skin fragments underneath. Dr. Hobson confirmed there was a viable DNA sample there and the sample turned out to match a record already on file. Lewis pretty much let Hathaway run the investigation and, although it had taken some time to locate the suspect, they eventually found him working in an off-license near Jericho. Lewis peppered the suspect with intense questioning, and when this was combined with Hathaway's intense silences (which the suspect felt compelled to fill with words), the excuses and alibis got tangled up until the man was hopelessly awash in his own lies. He ended up making a confession that meshed perfectly with the evidence, even the bits that had not been released to the public. It was, as their boss would say, a good result.
The upshot was that Lewis felt Hathaway should be rewarded by not having to worry about getting himself home after two or three pints. Or, wait, they were up to four now, he realized, with the return of Dr. Hobson, spilling the brimming glasses a bit as she made her way across the room. Ah. No wonder the younger two of the threesome were laughing so loudly.
It occurred to him just then that there might be more than mere ale fueling the good humor. James and Laura seemed to be sitting unusually close together, and something in their eyes hinted at a secret shared between them. Hmm. He'd better start paying a bit more attention to the nuances, he decided. He still couldn't believe he had been totally oblivious to the romance that had once flared between Hathaway and Fiona McKendrick. Hobson had put him onto that, come to think of it. She seemed to keep better track of Hathaway's unspoken communication than might be expected. Now he even found himself wondering if Laura had been completely kidding when she told Lewis she was secretly in love with Hathaway. At the time, he thought she was only flirting with him, but maybe he'd misread that?
He blinked back to the present as he realized they were holding empty glasses out toward him. He made his way to the rather crowded bar, telling himself this was definitely going to be the last round.
Halfway back across the room, he glanced up toward their table and saw James saying something into Laura's ear. She broke into a wide grin, and her reply brought a similar grin to the younger man's face. When Lewis arrived at the table, their conversation was suddenly over and they bore guilty looks. Or so he thought. Maybe he just imagined they were up to something. Not that he wouldn't be happy for them. But if there was a romance between his two best friends, it was bound to change the dynamic of the group. Assuming James engaged in romance with the same intensity he applied to his work, Lewis would become a third wheel, an interloper, and their familiar camaraderie would be lost, or at least reduced. He felt comfortable with them both, and wanted to keep them both as two of the few friends he had. In some ways, he felt as if he'd known Hathaway almost as long as he'd known Hobson. Which, come to think of it, was a pretty damned long time.
He smiled to himself as he remembered the first time he saw her, years ago at Blenheim. The very first thing she said was a smart remark to Morse, his boss at the time. Not unlike the rather prickly beginning of his own relationship with James, punctuated with cocky retorts and banter as they sorted out where they each stood. Now all it took was a glance over the top of a witness's head to confirm that he and James both had the same perspective. Yet, despite their professional familiarity, Lewis had to admit to himself he remained both uninformed and curious about Hathaway's personal life, even if it was none of his business.
"You're awfully quiet this evening, Sir." Hathaway's voice brought him back again to the pub.
"Guess I'm more tired than I thought. I'm ready to head for home. Shall we?"