It had been 2 weeks and 3 days since Dale Smith had been promoted to Inspector.
Since then it had seemed as if every thug, drunk, and dealer had crawled out from their dirty little squats to commit yet another petty crime. To say he'd been busy was an understatement.
There had been the case with the elderly woman who'd been robbed of over £1000 worth of jewellery. They had spent the whole shift questioning neighbours about the suspects description and searching for him. He had turned out to be her druggie of a grandson who she had failed to mention had a key to her house.
There had been the incident with a 13 year old boy from the Jasmin Allen Estate bringing 10 grams of Cannabis into school. Nate and Ben had spent the morning searching for an imaginary dealer because the 10 grams turned out to be part of the Dad's homemade stash. They'd had a countless number of phone calls about drink fuelled violence and speeding drink drivers. All of which resisted arrest and protested their innocence of course. Poor Mel had even ended up with a bruised cheekbone, courtesy of a violent drunkard who had come to their attention through an armed robbery case.

He'd been to every crime scene and had completed all the paperwork for each case on time and to a good standard, even the files on Mel's assault had been finished.
He was determined to be a good Inspector, he had big shoes to fill. Both Gina's and Rachel's although he was more concerned about making Gina Gold proud. He could still remember the smile on her face when he'd told her of his promotion, in person of course. She'd been so proud and she was the only person he knew that could be so proud yet at the same time berate him for taking so long in taking up the position. But it had been the good news he'd needed after the Devlin Case disaster. He wanted to make sure she stayed proud of him.

The result of this, however, was nights like this when the station was eerily quiet, devoid of Ben and Leon arguing over something stupid, the sounds of Kirsty's frustration as she put them both back in line. She'd make a great Sergeant one day. He missed the sounds of Roger sharing his wisdom around the station, his years of experience being told through stories of 'back in the day' and most recently the sounds of Nate and Mel flirting could be heard around the station. Her laughing at whatever he said, whether it was funny or not, only encouraged him to talk more. He'd heard Ben and Leon joking about it in the locker room but Nate had refused to comment. Smithy was finding it harder and harder to separate them.
They'd all gone down to the pub over an hour ago, it was Friday night after all, yet he was still cooped up in his office, snowed under mountins of paperwork and case files.
Running a hand through his unruly hair, he picked up the next file wearily.
Another drink driver.

:)

Callum Stone wasn't stupid. Nor was he blind. He could see that Smithy was trying to hard to be the perfect Inspector and he could see the effect it was having on him, even if no-one else could. He was all smiles and banter when on duty with the rest of the team but once he was in the safety of his office the smile dropped of his face and his shoulders sagged. During Gina's reign as Inspector the office had smelt of cigarettes, during Rachel's reign it had been in instant coffee. Now that Smithy was inspector the office had a faint whiff of whiskey, his new vice. He had heavy bags under his eyes and he seemed to have lost the ability to iron a shirt. Yet he remained to be the first at the station and the last to leave.

"Ain't your shift over Smithy?" he questioned, hoping for more than the standard response which was a small grunt and a shrug of the shoulders. His wish was granted, the victory was short lived however as the update wasn't much more.
"Stuff to do"

That had been the answer last Friday, when he'd been asked down to the pub to celebrate Kirsty's birthday. The whole of the relief team have gone, heck even Callum himself had gone. Yet when they left the station he knew Smithy had retreated to his office once more and had spent the best part of the night there. Alone with his computer, case files and an endless supply of caffeine. This Friday looked to be a repeat of last.

"You should go home mate. Looks like you haven't slept in the last decade or two"
"Like i said Sergeant. I have stuff to do"

Callum had known his statement would be unappreciated so the frustration laced in Smithy's voice didn't surprise him, nor did the fact that he still hadn't looked up from the case file he was staring intently at. Callum just wished he knew who the Inspectors frustration was aimed at. Him or the Inspector himself? He had a horrible feeling it was the latter.
But Callum wasn't one to be scared off by an angry voice, even though he knew that Smithy could be headstrong and even badtempered when provoked.

"Smithy..." he began but his last ditch attempt was cut off.
"Leave it Callum. Just go home" He finally lifted his head to stare directly at Callum, his eyes imploring him to drop the subject so that's what he gave the impression of doing.
"Night Serge" he wished Smithy with a small nod of the head, he turned to leave his office. Heading straight for the entrance to the station but instead of leaving he turned into the steps that lead to CID. He was greeted by an empty office. The CID team had obviously been unable to resit the allure of Friday night at the pub and not for the first time tonight he wondered why he wasn't down there too. He cursed loudly before sweeping his gaze around the deserted room for the last time. Empty chairs and vacated desks stared back at him, taunting him with the fact that his hope hadn't been enough to help him this time.

Cursing once more he turned on his heels, intending to head for the pub where the rest of his team were enjoying the end of a difficult shift. Instead he crashed straight into a small figure whose arms were loaded with papers, which instantly fell to the ground as she put her arms out to attempt to steady herself, or to break her fall. Instinctively his arms went to her waist to help steady her.

"Why Sergeant Stone, I didn't know you you felt that way" she grinned up at him cheekily, her voice mocking him as she shook with quiet laughter.

"Hilarious Stevie" he deadpanned, his face betraying him with a small smile as he bent down to help gather the papers that had crashed to the floor earlier. He picked up a bulky file, his curiosity got the best of him as he looked at the name inside. "Katie O'Neill. Misper?"

"Not all teenage girls are runaways y'know Callum. She was a victim in an assault this morning. Doctors think its a possible rape attack. Of course we don't know for certain because she won't talk. Not that I blame the kid. Whoever did it to her was one nasty piece of work" she explained as she took the file off him, dumping it on her desk along with the rest of the paperwork.

"Ah" Stone had hit a brick wall, figuratively. How was he meant to bring it up? "Was that the crime scene Smithy disappeared to this morning?"
The whole station knew that badmouthing Smithy to Stevie or vice versa was most likely to end up in a surprise visit to A&E. Especially after everything Smithy had done for her during the Devlin attack. Not that anyone else in the station knew about that, but they all had their hunches. How he was meant to tell her Smithy was pressuring himself too much.

"Yeah, he was there all right." she was now standing over Mickey Webb's desk, riffling through the clutter that hid wooden surface, most of it overdue paperwork knowing Mickey. "He didn't look great though. Looked...i don't know. Tired. But that's what you're here to talk to me about I'm assuming" She was still looking for whatever was hidden in the depths of that rubbish but her voice had quietened, saddened almost. That was enough to tell him he'd made the right choice.

"Nothing gets passed you ey?"
"I should look into detective work. Right?" Her voice was thick with sarcasm as she tried to recover from the tiny bit of emotion she'd allowed Callum to see but nothing got passed him either and he could see what she was covering. She looked up from Mickey's desk to grin at him again. "And here was me hoping this was a social visit" she added in her most flirtatious voice.

He could see why so many people liked her. Between the flirty smile, chatty persona and her brilliant detective skills there wasn't much room left to dislike the little blond. She'd moved back to stand behind her own desk now, still facing him, with a flimsy piece of paper clutched in her hands which she soon let drop to the table. With a soft sigh she turned the full force of her blue eyes on him.

"Your wasting your time Callum. There's nothing you or I can do to stop him self destructing"

"Just talk to him. One more try." he pleaded with her. That must have had some kind of effect on her as she closed her mouth which she'd opened to argue with him. Everyone knew how unlikely it was for him to beg for something.

"Fine. OK...I'll try. But you owe me 3 extra officers for this case if I do!"

He sighed with relief. She'd agreed, abiet unwillingly and at the cost of three of his officers but she'd agreed all the same. He watched as she stuffed the papers back into the Katie O'Neill file before shrugging her leather jacket on over her shoulders.

"Move. Before I change my mind Stone!"

He mock saluted her before he turned and headed for the door. He used one hand to open it for her and the other to flick the switch, basking the empty room in darkness.

"Inspectors office. I'll leave you to it. Night Stevie" He called as he began his descent down the stairs, taking them two at a time in his efforts to get away from the inevitable argument that was bound to follow Stevie into the office. The cool night air greeted him as he made his way out of the station doors, still able to hear Stevie cursing him loud enough to ensure he heard every word, and in the direction of the local pub where he could finally join his team in a drinking session, his spirit a little cheerier at the thought of the old Smithy returning to work in the morning. His hangover would be alot less painful without the authoritative voice shouting down his ears about drinking on the job. In fact it would help alot of the team if the old Smithy was back.

:)

Stevie Moss sighed heavily. She had been roped into talking some sense into the most stubborn man in SunHill, how she was going to do that she had no idea. She didn't even know how she'd get him to stop working long enough for her to get the chance to speak. After racking her brains for a last minute solution, which didn't come, she decided to do what she always did. Act first, think later. So, throwing caution to the wind she boldly knocked on the wooden door, pointedly ignoring the name plate that read 'Inspector Dale Smith'. It was almost as if she was blaming the plate for her situation. That and Callum Stone, who would not get away with this. She was going to make use of the hangover he'd have in the morning. She knew from first hand experience that loud voices didn't help thumping headaches. Realising she hadn't gotten a response she tentatively pushed the door open.

"Smithy?"

OK guys, i have a question. Well, I've been told i overuse comma's (,). Do i? because if i do i seriously need to fix it :)
Thanks for reading :)