Title: Home ground Advantage
Rating: T
Summary: In which Camille persuades Richard that London and Cambridge would be more fun than Clacton
A/N: I'm writing this because I'm certain Richard's family love him, and it would be interesting to see what they'd make of Camille. I also chose Cambridge as a cheat because a) I live there so I know it and b) Ben Miller went to Cambridge so I decided Richard did. Thanks to Roz just Roz for the beta.
Camille never imagined she'd have to deal with a slightly giddy Richard Poole, but giddy was probably the most accurate way of describing his mood after he heard the news they had to go to London for a conference. He made it very clear, very quickly he had every intention of seeking revenge for Camille's insistence that he learn more about island culture by dragging her to everywhere he loved in London, and presumed she would despise.
"Aren't we going to be stuck in meetings all week? You know, long, boring meetings with barely any relevance to our job that actually prevents us from having any fun?" She'd finally asked in the middle of his monologue about different kinds of ale.
"Ha! So you might think, but actually we only have to attend the first two days – the rest is voluntary but the commissioner gave us the week anyway," Was his inordinately pleased reply.
"Are you, Detective Inspector Richard Poole, seriously suggesting you'd rather play tour guide than attend such fascinating seminars such as…" Camille shuffled through the program. "'Ensuring integration of Western African and Caribbean religion practices into policing procedure'. That you would rather skip 'Current assessments of the impact of climate change into policing in the British Overseas Territories' to go have fun. And if you are, are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"Well, actually it's very important I see my Aunt but after that it's Clacton whether you like it or not."
Camille was going to have to think fast if she was going to get out of the caravan trip, she'd done a little research after the original jokey offer and it did not appeal. However there was no way Richard would believe she wanted to attend the seminars more.
"Where does your Aunt live?"
"RAF Wyton, it's near Cambridge. My Uncle is in the service and they live on base."
"Cambridge! Didn't you go to University there? I mean, couldn't we go there; I hear it's very pretty and, uh, historic? I'll entertain myself when you see your family," She quickly volunteered.
"Well, I suppose it is quite cultural."
"Think of all the stuff from your history degree you can prattle on about," Richard glared at her and she grinned. "I mean all the knowledge you can impart."
He shook his head and walked away, and Camille knew she had won. Now this was a trip she was quite looking forward too.
It was May, and it should be nice in May. The British had Bank Holidays in May, to celebrate the spring and enjoy the lovely weather. Camille wasn't stupid; she'd checked the average temperatures for the time of year on Wikipedia and packed accordingly. However, somebody didn't like her, and the UK decided to be unseasonably cold – a balmy 9°C that had her shivering as soon as she was outside.
The Inspector had found her discomfort amusing and admonished her for not dressing appropriately. This had brought out her stubborn side, and she'd continued to wear the same clothes and tried not to stare too longingly at jumpers in shop windows.
The three days they were in London she tried to cram in as much touristy stuff as possible. She mostly let Richard have his way with where they went. The day they landed it was straight to the Natural History Museum, but she'd wondered off when he was explaining some trilobite fossils to her and he'd located her in the vault staring at shiny things.
"You don't even where that much jewellery," he'd complained when he'd located her.
"All women like diamonds," she'd said playfully, and turned back to admiring the collection. When she glanced up he was taking notes. "What are you doing?"
"Just noting down anything you take a particular interest in, you know so if it goes missing in the near future…"
Richard had dragged her to evensong at St Paul's Cathedral and she was rather reluctant, but had come to a dead stop once she stepped in the door to stare up at the ceilings. Later she'd got her way with China town for dinner. When she crossed in front of a car stuck in a queue of traffic the driver had revved his engine in annoyance and Camille had stopped directly in front to start to have a go at him. Richard had rapidly taken her by the arm, dragged her across the street and told her she should ignore London drivers unless she wanted to be run over. Richard had stubbornly refused to even try chopsticks at the restaurant, but she was too pleased with him actually coming to nag him too much.
Wednesday morning she may have had to give her presentation slightly hung over after trying a few too many different ales at the White Hart. Her boss had been moody as quite a lot of the men in the bar had volunteered to buy her halves that evening, and yes she spoke to them it was only polite, but it was him she sat with all evening. To try to make up for it at Breakfast the next day she'd asked a question about the history of Westminster Abbey and listened as attentively as she could whilst drinking bucket loads of coffee and praying her head would stop hurting,
Now they were on a rather depressing looking train to Cambridge where she hoped it would be a few degrees warmer.