The very professional activities of Scotland Yard's "Golden Trio." Pre-Forbodium, friendship all around, Alfendi/Hilda if you squint.

Just a drabble I found lying around in the recesses of my computer. Enjoy!

"I wasn't snooping," said Al again, more sulky than angry at this point.

Hilda glanced down at him skeptically. If Al was the sort of person who got intimidated, she would cut quite the intimidating figure; between the angle – what with him sitting in the suspects' chair and her standing at full height on the other side of the table – and the too-bright light from the lamp carefully positioned so that it wouldn't blind him, quite, but would make him squint a lot.

Justin, looming by his side in a similarly menacing manner, jabbed at the documents on the table in front of Al. "We have computer records of you hacking into my email account four separate times this week. We found bugs on both mine and Hilda's phone lines." Al just glared at the desk. Justin's voice rose from a statement to a shout. "We found your fingerprints on the underside of Hilda's desk!"

"Unforgivably sloppy work on my part," Al muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Didn't even think to wipe the underside of the desk."

"Be that as it may..." Hilda leaned towards him. "What were you hoping to discover from your invasion into our personal lives?"

"Told you I wasn't snooping," Alfendi muttered, shoulders hunched and still staring at a spot slightly above the documents on the table.

Justin smacked a palm to his forehead and groaned. "This would be much easier if you'd just admit to it!"

"Never mind that, Justin," said Hilda, still staring hard at Al. "It's obvious at this point that we have our culprit. What I want to know is why."

Alfendi's head shot up. "You know very well why!" he hissed.

Hilda and Justin exchanged glances. "No," they said in unison. "We really don't."

"Just look at the two of you!" Al sneered, placing one hand on his heart. "You're practically synchronized. How touching."

After a short pause, Hilda sighed. "Is that all?"

Justin looked at her blankly. "Is what all?"

"You're nervous about the amount of time that Justin and I have been spending together recently because of the Drewer case. You're jealous," she said matter-of-factly.

Al spluttered. "NO! I am not – no!" He gave a mocking laugh, although the effect was dampened by the wobble in his voice at the end. "What is there be jealous of? You can't possibly think I want to spend even more time than I already do having to deal with the two of you?"

Hilda put a hand on her hip and tilted her head towards him thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought so, no. At least not to this extent. But apparently I was wrong."

Justin looked baffled. "If you wanted to hang out with us, you could have just asked."

Their suspect's face was slowly growing red enough to match his hair. "I am NOT jealous!"

Somehow Hilda had dialed a number on her phone and was speaking to someone. "Yes. Yes. Reservations for three at seven o'clock please? A corner table if possible. No. Yes. Thank you." She hung up. "I expect both of you at Les Passant promptly at seven. Justin will treat."

"Hey!"

"Consider it reimbursement for all the nights you didn't buy takeout when it was your turn," she replied. "Anyway, I have a meeting in ten minutes. We'll speak about this more tonight." She turned and walked out of the interrogation room. If Al was the sort of person who paid attention to that kind of thing, he may have thought that her walk was just a bit more smug than usual.

"I am not paying for a let's-all-make-Al-feel-better fest," Justin muttered.

"And I am NOT jealous," Alfendi agreed.

There was a pause, and then two simultaneous sighs.

~End