The first time Peter met Camilla she had knocked him off his feet. Quite literally.
...
He wondered later on when he had started to fall in love with her.
Was it already then?
When he had recovered from the first shock at finding himself on his back on the street he had turned around and seen her lying there, face down. He had feared that she had hurt herself, happy to see her move her head and look at him, surprised at how much he cared about her.
And surprised of how little annoyed he was with her. He could have turned her in for assaulting a policeman. Another officer might have been angry enough to do that.
But Peter knew the difference between doing things on purpose and by mistake.
When she turned to him and he had patted her shoulder, he had been surprised at how soft she was. He had heard tales about the tall midwife who couldn't even ride a bike, and he had laughed along with the others about that. But this first meeting with her was something entirely different and he could feel his wish to touch her more, already then.
But no, he hadn't really fallen in love with her then. Just started to care about her.
Which was, of course, a version of love.
...
The next time they met had been later that same day.
She had come to the station, asking for him at the desk.
"I hope you are alright", she had said, obviously very embarassed about the whole thing. "I'm frightfully sorry."
"I'm okey. No harm done. Just a few bruises."
Then she had handed him a bottle, wrapped in brown paper.
"I do hope you accept this as an apology", she said, looking very nervous.
"I couldn't possibly... It was just an accident...Those things happen..."
But then he saw how upset his refusal made her, so he just took the gift and thanked her very much for it. Then she smiled for the first time since coming into the station, and he noticed what a lovely smile she had.
"I know it isn't Glenlivet, but the seller said this is pretty decent stuff", she said. Then she turned around and left.
"Glenlivet!" he had thought with a smile after she left. He had heard of that whisky, but he definitely hadn't tasted it. Not ever. She did come from a different world from the one he had grown up in.
It wasn't then he had fallen in love with her either, although he had enjoyed the whisky very much.
...
No, it wasn't until the next time they met. Or rather - the next time he saw her. Because they hadn't exactly met.
It was early one morning, he was just about to get back to the station after a nightshift, when he saw her on her bicycle going up Leyland street. She looked absolutely exhausted.
She hadn't noticed him and he knew better than to call out. He would probably have made her fall off her bike, it was obvious she wasn't used to the vehicle yet.
But his heart had skipped a beat the moment he saw her.
She looked so vulnerable. And she was doing something useful with her life. She came from a part of society where women weren't supposed to do much more than change clothes and find a husband. Still she was here, trying to help people, wearing herself out for others. He admired that.
"I love her", he had thought, walking back to his empty flat to get some breakfast and catch a days sleep. "I really do. I am falling in love with her, and I don't know at all what to do about it."
AN: Thank you for reading! I would be very happy if you took the time to leave a comment.
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I couldn't help writing another Chummy/Peter story. I think they are the sweetest couple ever seen on television.