Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Bill' or any characters in this piece.
My house, my rules…
"It's almost like the simple concept of picking up towels hasn't come pre-programmed." Her voice came from the upstairs bathroom, her sing-song tone making him frown.
"Stop cleaning up."
"I'm not cleaning up, I'm re-organising what looks like it's never been touched by human hands before." She remarked, her tone barely hiding her cheeky grin.
"Fine, then stop re-organising."
"… what has never been touched by human hands before." She finished as she trudged downstairs, taking in the figure at the table as he sat sideways on a chair with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth as he scanned the paper. "And you give the impression of such class at work." She picked up her phone and snapped a picture. "If this picture got around the station…" she threatened.
He looked up. "You wouldn't."
She raised an eyebrow, daring him to question her, but his frown made her put the phone down. "Don't worry, I won't hurt your credibility." His eyes followed her as she headed for the fridge. "Maybe just your peanut butter." She frowned into the fridge then turned to him with her own stereotypical frown. "Don't tell me you don't have peanut butter."
"Top cupboard, left hand side." He motioned with the toast in his right hand.
"Who keeps peanut butter in the cupboard?" She withdrew it and dropped it to the bench with a thud, knowing his eyes were on her the whole time. She helped herself to the toaster, rolled the lid off the peanut butter jar with two fingers, pulled out a butter knife, flicked back her fringe with one finger then turned on him, frowning right back at him. "Yes?" She folded her arms across her chest, keeping eye contact. For a minute they kept the stare-off going, then he motioned to her with the toast.
"That's one of my t-shirts." He gave a small smirk.
She pulled her own shirt lower over the bottom of the stolen t-shirt and dropped her eyes from his. "No it isn't." She turned away, busying herself with the toast.
He gave a soft laugh. "Yes, yes it is." She heard him scrape the chair back and then he was behind her, pushing her hair out of the way and making for the tag on the shirt. "Ha, I knew it. It is one of mine."
She slid from his grasp. "Hold on, are you telling me that you mark your shirt tags?" He gave her a blank look. "My mother stopped doing that to my belongings when I turned 12." She smothered a giggle at his forced blank expression. "I'm sorry, that's sweet, very cute…" she bit back a small snort. "You know, in case the DI tries to steal your stuff." She put her hand to her mouth and turned away, letting herself shake with silent laughter.
"For that I'm going to make sure all your cases for the next week involve working with DS Turner."
"Oooh scary. I bet DS Turner doesn't mark his tags." She watched him walk away. "Awww, where are you going?" She picked up her own piece of toast and leant against the counter, watching him leave the kitchen.
"To find out the damage you've done to my house." He stepped back into the room and gave her a smile. "And see how many of my shirts you've stolen." Her laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as she turned back to the toaster, grabbing the second piece of toast and lathering it in peanut butter before taking her toast to the kitchen table and turning the paper towards her.
"PC Brown?" She glanced up at the sound of her name and found herself face to face with the figure from her morning escapades. However there were a few differences. She wasn't in a kitchen but the station canteen. She wasn't sporting a stolen blue t-shirt and jeans but her uniform and he wasn't smiling, instead giving her his crease-between-the-eyes frown and the earliest hint of his usual smug smirk. "Millie, you in there?"
She smiled. "Yes sarge, what is it?"
He thumbed to the door. "Just wondering if you could watch a girl in the soft interview room for me. I'll give you the details on the way, assuming you're awake enough."
She pouted at him. "Very funny sarge." She pushed back her chair and grabbed her toast.
"Good daydream?" He taunted, holding open the canteen doors for her.
"Been better." She bit her toast then frowned, remembering something. "Sarge?" He murmured a reply. "Peanut butter – fridge or cupboard?"
DS Max Carter actually stopped walking, taken aback by the random question. "What?" She shrugged. "Cupboard, why?"
Millie shook her head. "No reason." She smiled and he started up again, frowning at the PC. "So, this girl, who is she?"
With a wary glance in her direction, Max told Millie all the details about the girl. He didn't notice her smother the smallest of giggles before popping the last piece of peanut butter toast in her mouth.
A/N: There's nothing like waking to a little bit of fluff on a Sunday morning. Hope it gets you refreshed for the week ahead. Lol. Now off to eat my peanut butter toast and daydream about Max…
This is for Charlie_Alice. I hope you enjoyed it!