It was stupid he knew it; to be in the archives on your day off, but here he was anyway surrounded by dust and ring stains from ancient coffee cups riffling through pages of reports. The only person who knew he was there was Innocent and that was only because she had signed off on his day off. Then she had signed off on his want for an extended stay in the archives on said day off. He would never tell Lewis, ever. Mainly because what he was doing broke their silent, but strict code of 'don't speak about the past, we don't look into the past and we certainly don't do either behind the other ones back'. James was toeing the unmarked line. He was being a rebel in the sense that he was going to anger Lewis if he ever found out; not in the sense that he was invariably at work on his paid vacation.
He glanced at another report and decided to take a break meaning that once again he began to idly think about his Detective Inspector. As far as Lewis knew James was at home being melancholy and twanging his guitar strings as he drank whatever was lying around the house. Which if he was honest it is the way he had intended to spend his day off. He had wanted a day off to do nothing, to think about nothing and certainly see nothing. That had been his plan all along right up until the last minute; he was going to play his guitar and walk through Christchurch meadow or maybe even skull for a little bit as the weather had been perfect for it since the arctic winter had passed, the Oxford summer was turning in to a balmy affair. These perfect if not a little naive plans had changed at the mention of one name in the middle of a case two days before his vacation.
The name was Morse.
James had thought that after five years of working together that maybe just maybe the age of Morse was over and people could just let sleeping dogs lie. This apparently was not the case. Not in the slightest.
James had never thought of himself as a jealous man, and in retrospect he had to admit that not many people do; not until they catch themselves in that state. He hadn't been brought up that way, he was the kind, skinny boy with blonde hair that all the mothers wished their sons were like. However he was finding it difficult to always have to compete with the dead. The mentions of Valerie Lewis he could handle, it made sense that no matter how much time passed that his boss was still in love with his wife. He didn't mind competing with her for Lewis' affections because he loved Val, but James was now the closest friend he had and the pair had a bond so different from that of a married couple that the two really couldn't be compared. Except that is in strength and in that respect James had to admit that they must be on equal footing, there were not many friendships he had where testing them to destruction actually made them stronger.
It was the mentions of Morse that made him see red. This was mainly because after eleven years Lewis still didn't know how to react to the questions that people raised about his superior.
At the last mention of Morse James decided that enough was enough and that if you can't beat them, you should definitely join them. So since Lewis was never going to tell him about his mentor James was going to find it out on his own.
So here he was in the stuffy archives on his day off like an idiot reading every report with Morse's name on it spanning his time at all the stations he worked at in the Oxford area from the beginning at Oxford City police in 1965 when he was a lowly detective constable on loan to the cop shop until Detective Inspector Fred Thursday took him under his wing as his detective sergeant to his time at Thames Valley police until his death in the summer of 2000 where he was Chief Inspector before it changed again just before James joined in 2005.
Most of the files hadn't had a chance to be put to microfiche due to the budget or even scanned so James could feel the history between his fingers. He wondered if he should feel disgusted with himself for walking all over Morse's police graveyard, but jealousy and curiosity had gotten the better of him. He looked back to the files again rubbing his jaw before he started to read again realising it was the first case with Lewis' name on it from the start of 1987.
His mentor's first case with the Chief "Oh Morse was such a nice man" Inspector. He could just imagine it the soft spoken Northern boy being a total fish out water in the hallowed land of academics; where everything means something in Latin and everyone acts like they are a million times smarter than you. Not that it was very hard James had to admit since little had changed since then even if Oxford was his home now. He could imagine the meeting of the world weary and bad tempered old man that had barged his way on to the case with his rank and the sweet and naive married younger officer. In his mind it was as awkward as their first meeting had been except in a much smaller environment; Lewis trying to be the overly nice subordinate who was between two commanding officers and Morse the overbearing cantankerous old man.
The case he was reading like most of the ones he had been involved in since coming back to Oxford was a bizarre affair with twists and turns and more red herrings than there were fish in the Cherwell. As always there was an edge of academia to it as Oedipus Rex reared his ugly head for what he knew was most likely not the first time and what would certainly not be the last time. The more of the reports that he read (typed in Lewis' own hand no less) the more he became sure that peoples "superior" intellect was always their downfall, because there could be little other reason for smart people to be so stupid.
As he continued through the files he noticed that as time went on lines of investigation that he knew Lewis would have raised were being further explored next to Morse's initial views; which from experience he knew meant that the pairing was becoming more of a partnership.
James could only think that his happened because Morse realised the same thing he had after meeting him; that no matter how much academics hide behind pretty words and ancient lexicons that they are people, normal average people that elevated themselves to the heady heights they got to and that Lewis was very good at reading and understanding other people. Especially strangers.
James paused for a moment again taking a sip of his rapidly depleting water bottle as his eyes roved over the top sheet of a new case report which at a first glance was a routine missing person's but as he read more it was as always something far more sinister. From the tone of the reports Morse and Lewis did not agree with the others ideas on the case and he wasn't surprised. Morse had gone for the man that had come forward willingly to tell the police that he had seen the missing seventeen year old and Lewis had chosen to investigate the school teacher with wandering hands. At the end of the day Lewis was proven right, but from the way in which his final report was written he was not proud of his actions since he had reported Morse to the Superintendant citing a conflict of interest as Morse was being more misogynistic towards the missing girl than he usually was. It made him think for a second, never in all the time he had known him had Lewis ever treated him as an annoyance; well except when they fought or James was being stupid. Lewis had always valued his input even if it was way off base he had also on more than one occasion shown to everyone that he had his young sergeants back. Lewis had always been willing (even if it took a pint to get there) to follow James' line of enquiry alongside his own even if he knew it was fruitless as he had noticed something valuable that James had missed. He also realised that he did the exact same thing for Lewis on the cases where Lewis missed something of inordinate importance. Lewis had never once professionally pitied his junior officer, even if he did James didn't realise the pity remarks at the time.
He realised that no matter how impersonal they had become towards each other whether it be because of secrets or half baked truths Lewis always tried to make James feel included in his job, which was one of the largest parts of his life. He had always wanted James to feel like a full member of the partnership; this made him almost smile and also made him want to carry on.
He spent hours and hours searching the files for a hints or clues as to why people connected to Morse however tenuously thought he was so bloody perfect, but the more he read the less he believed that it was true. He was a good detective that was for sure, but he was far from the perfection that some people remembered him by. The more he read the more he realised that he had mentor envy; which made him feel sheepish, because in the end it wasn't that envied the fact that Lewis had Morse for a mentor it was something else that he didn't want to name.
Before he had noticed the clock had ticked its way to four o'clock and when he looked up he decided that maybe it was time to leave. He stood uncurling his back and feeling all the muscles scream at him for sitting in the same position for eight hours. He put the files away and hid the notes he had made about Morse and the cases he and Lewis had worked on in his bag because his observations on Morse were for no one's eyes, but his.
As he reached the door he switched off the unhelpful fan and the lights plunging the windowless and airless room in to humid darkness. He glanced back to make sure he had left nothing and then turned the door handle opening the door and received the fright of his life.
"Did ya find what you were looking for?" Lewis asked coolly as he leaned against the wall, his whole demeanour made James feel as if he'd had a bucket of ice tipped over his head for having his hand in the cookie jar. As he shut the door behind him it took all of his strength not to let his discomfort show.
"How did you know I was here Sir?" he asked trying unsuccessfully to avoid Lewis' question.
"Innocent," Lewis replied his normally gentle tone harsh and clipped. "Did ya think our fearless leader wouldn't come to ask me why you needed to go to the archives, on your day off of all days?" James stiffened; he hadn't thought of that, but of course she bloody well would the nosey woman. "So once again I will ask ya, did ya find what you were looking fer in there?" He asked again his accent becoming thicker changing his vowels and making James more nervous. Sice Lewis' vowels changing meant that there was likely an argument on the horizon, but what did he expect?
Lewis passed his sergeant an ice tea and began to make his way out of the corridor with James keeping pace beside him shrugging his shoulders slightly.
"Honestly Sir, I don't know."
"Morse was it?" Lewis asked smiling a little and James couldn't decide if it was ironic or not and once again he felt his whole body freeze. "Thought so," Lewis finished stopping abruptly and letting James pass him by. "I saw how you reacted the other day Jim and contrary to popular belief I'm not as stupid as I look. I have quite a few Dons that will attest to that." James scoffed a little, but said nothing else because once again Lewis' self deprecating, back handed compliment had made him smile. Mainly because Lewis had more knowledge about life and the wider world in his little finger than any of the academics Lewis had mentioned ever would in their entire bodies.
As they walked up the stairs to the lobby the pair fell in to an almost companionable silence which lasted until they reached the front doors of the station and Lewis turned on his heel and broke it.
"Why didn't you just ask?" He said laying his hand on the door handle showing James that he wouldn't be leaving until he answered the question. James stopped abruptly making his shoes skid on the floor as he turned to Lewis shock starkly outlined on his angular features.
"He and your wife are taboo subjects to raise with you." James stated plainly hands held limply at his sides. "I can't ask for fear that you will stop talking to me altogether. That fear keeps me silent." Lewis looked at the younger man puzzled,
"Why?" he asked softly the lilt on his voice making the question sympathetic this time not accusatory.
"Why you ask?" James asked in return an edge of hysteria in his blue eyes. A uniformed officer walked by the pair and gave them an odd look so Lewis opened the door and decided to take the conversation outside.
"Yes, James why?" He asked again when they started to walk across the car park his voice so very soft now as if he were talking to a broken down victim.
"Because you are my only friend," James said helplessly, "When I go home, I go home alone; not from want, but from design. I have nothing really except this job. I don't really talk to my parents. Not in the way you and Lynne do. I also have immense trouble with conversational Mandarin." He smiled bitterly. Lewis touched his arm to make his sergeant look at him his dark grey eyes endlessly warm.
"Morse was never taboo." Lewis admitted, "I just don't know how to talk about him. I saw the side that others didn't see. I saw the bitter and disillusioned man that he had become; since in his early life things hadn't gone well. I saw the naive academic that he once was hardened first by the army and a broken heart and eventually by time itself. I saw the natural born critic and selfish bachelor that he never showed to others, most people thought he was misogynistic, but really he was just too shy when it came to women. He didn't want to let himself be hurt again and he had found that he really did like being on his own. Yes he could be bad tempered and he drank more than he should, but he was a lonely man who could not solve life's big puzzle. The people he helped saw his professional facade, for victims he was compassionate and hard working, to criminals he was tough as nails and as cold hearted as they were, but all he did it for was to flip his finger up at the fates that had made him that way. It was his way of saying that they had ruined his life, so he was going to made do and mend." Lewis sighed, "You could see it when he came to dinner sometimes, and he envied the fact that I had a loving family to come home to; that I could for a few hours at least forget about the worst parts of the job. He was a brilliant detective James, but he wasn't a full person. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone. The hardest thing about it is that I never knew he cared for me so much. I just thought he put up with me all those years, but I was told that the last thing he said was 'thank Lewis for me' which were the only four words that I never expected to hear him say; such a juxtaposition to his normal demeanour. Not that I do much better mind you. " He stopped and rubbed his hand across his weary face. James was surprised; Lewis rarely opened up and even when he did he had never sustained a conversation for that amount of time. If it had come from anyone else James would have shrugged his shoulders, but from Lewis this was as close to a monologue as he was ever going to get.
"I'm sorry Sir." James said feeling more sheepish, "I didn't mean to step on toes."
"You didn't step on anyone's toes James. However had you asked me about it would have saved you a lot of sneaking around behind my back. It was your day of for pity's sake. You shouldn't have spent it in the hot and dusty archives."
"I didn't mind." James replied smiling, "It was almost fun looking back on your career."
"Now I feel more than a little self conscious." Lewis said and James' smile became a face splitting grin, so rare a sight on his face the older man was more than a little shocked. "I now feel uncomfortable, like you are now going to blackmail me with the things you have read." Lewis stated as they stopped at James' car James took out his keys and Lewis started to speak again. "Also the next time you decide to try a ninja style stealth mission I'd advise you not to come in your car. It's a little obvious." James fumbled with his key in the lock and turned a satisfying shade of red from the opening of his collar to the tips of his ears. Without being patronising Lewis had to admit to himself that embarrassment suited the younger man as did his laugh and smile when he wasn't trying to be ironic Lewis thought fondly. It was only a shame that he didn't do either of the things more often.
"Sir..." James began as he finally managed to open his car door; Lewis looked up at the younger man and nodded briefly to show that he was listening, "Would you like to go for a pint?" A smile instantaneously broke across Lewis' face and he bit down on a bark of a laugh.
"I thought you would never ask." He replied as he opened the passenger door and climbed in to James' car. James followed suit and his jealousy of a dead man that had been building up since the mention of his name a few days before melted as if it never existed. He was resigned to his fate for as long as it had him tied to Robbie Lewis.
It no longer mattered that Lewis had once been the sergeant of another Inspector because at the end of the day Lewis had only been the detective Inspector of one Sergeant. That was something for others to envy, they should be jealous of him because there was only one Robbie Lewis and he was the best boss and person James knew.
