A Kiss For Luck (A Dempsey and Makepeace fan fiction for series 4 episode 6.)
Dempsey sat at the typewriter, chewing the end of a pen whilst Makepeace hovered behind him. "That sounds fine, just finish the sentence." The impatience was obvious in her voice. He glanced back at her, eyeing her up and down and she threw him an indignant look. "Anyway, since when have you been so bothered about the fine details?"
"Makepeace, sometimes it's the fine details that make all the difference."
"Okay, fine."
"Details." She growled and her eyes moved purposely to glare at the typewriter under his fingers. "Are you going to finish that sentence or not?"
"In a hurry Makepeace?"
"Oh, for heaven sake." She leant over his shoulder to reach the keys and began to type in some text. He could feel her weight against his back and in an attempt to frustrate her typing; he reached his arms back and dug his fingers into her waist, tickling her. She yelped, putting her hands on his shoulders and pulling back. "Ah, I've found a weak spot!" He grinned over his shoulder. "What other places can I tickle I wonder?"
"Behave yourself Dempsey and finish the bloody report."
"Makepeace, you wouldn't be in a hurry to get out of here tonight would you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I am, so if it's going to be any quicker I'll finish the report myself!"
"No, no, we wouldn't want you skimping on the fine details now would we?" He swivelled in his chair to face her then, contemplating her with his arms crossed. "Big night Friday night eh, first night of freedom of the week, time to relax, let yourself go wild." She refused to take the bait and simply glared back at him. "Anybody I know?"
She made a pretence at misunderstanding his question. "I'm sure you know lots of people who let themselves 'go wild'." He had to admire her attempt to avoid the question. "Yes, but who do you go wild with Sergeant?" The question hung in the air until she moved abruptly away. "I'll tell you what, since you obviously don't need my help, you finish the report, I've got to be somewhere." She headed to her desk, clearing away files and reaching for her bag.
Fry and Chas were watching her from the other side of the office. "You got a date tonight Makepeace?" They both sat grinning at her. "Since when has my private life been a topic of conversation in here?" Dempsey looked across at Chas, shaking his head and mouthing, "So naive at times."
"How about you Dempsey? You got a girl lined up for tonight?" Fry questioned him, he shrugged. "Aint made no plans, just like to see how the night pans out… And you Fry, managed to wear a girl down yet?" He paused. "Or wear one out?" Dempsey threw a look at Chas and Fry coloured up at the comment, moving around the desk as spontaneous laughter filled the room. Makepeace used the distraction to make a hasty exit and she headed for the door. "Well I'm off now, see you all Monday." Dempsey's head shot round. "Have yourself a ball." He shouted after her. He watched her leave and sat for a few moments staring at the closed door. Then he turned, typed out the last few words and tore the page out of the typewriter.
Several hours later Makepeace found herself standing on her own doorstep in the dark, cursing herself for her mistake. She must have dropped them in her haste to get out of his car. She went through her bag for the third time in the vain hope of finding her keys there. She stood, contemplating what to do next. She could telephone him from the phone box at the corner of the street but the thought of seeing him again tonight filled her with unease. She looked at her watch, it was getting late. Then a thought began to creep into her head and, although her conscious mind was rejecting it, her subconscious mind had already decided what she wanted to do. She battled out the idea. He'll not be there now anyway. Will he? He does have my spare key. No but he'll be insufferable and I'll have to tell him something. I'll just ask him for the key, it is my key after all. With that she fished in her bag for some change to ring a taxi and headed to the corner of the street.