PHASE TWO – cliques.
Enter the fashionably late. They provide a welcome distraction for everyone who has run out of acceptable Christmas Party Topics. The brittleness fades and is replaced with strangely over-familiar body language. Time for the partners to sink or swim – socialize and run the risk of overshadowing the copper; fade into the background and hope for the best.
Smithy wants none of it.
Dan's entrance pulls a gaggle of younger uniform together. Honey's criticizing Will's hair, standing in front of him, fussing. Emma, Dan and Lewis stubbornly ignore the grooming as Emma's wallpaper boyfriend fetches her a plastic glass of something.
June's left her vigil to join the crowd at the buffet table with their uproariously funny jokes. She dodges a hand-fed mini-quiche from Roger and they both lean on one another, laughing.
Mickey and the CID boys are the cool kids – they stand one hand in a pocket, another around a drink. They watch girls, the bar, the CD player-come-jukebox. The CID girls are sitting at a table, intent on whatever conversation they're having: Jo leans over Sam to his something at Suzie, resulting in cackling to startle everyone in the room.
Gina's guard of the bar has softened from an implied ban to concession if the drinker had a Christmas crown on. Her own orange crown sit perfectly on her head and is the only thing that could tease something like a smile from Smithy's lips.
He pulls himself up and returns to the bar.
"Another drink, Smithy?" She asks holding up what he hopes is orange and vodka and not just orange. "You know the rules."
"Gina, come on…" he protests weakly. "I –"
"You better not be about to pull rank on me with that Sergeant act, have you seen Superintendent Okara?" she nods. He's wearing a blue crown, upside down.
"Why is his upside down?" Smithy frowns, hoping to distract her.
"He maintains they fall off less. So what colour can I do you for?" She fixes him with a stern look and he feels like a naughty school boy.
"I…uh…well y'see –" he starts.
"I'll take purple." A voice at his elbow states, helping himself to a drink from the tray on the corner.
"Purple, DC Nadir?" Gina questions, handing him a rolled up wedge of crepe paper.
"Mmm." He takes a sip of his drink, unravels the hat and sets it on his head. "Matches my tie."
Smithy glances across to confirm this, exhaling a little laugh.
"Now, Sergeant Smith, men who can match their clothes and their accessories are a rarity in our department." She nods at his jeans and non-descript grey jumper finished with somewhat muddy trainers. "Well done, Zain. Pick a colour for Smithy. Something to bring out his Christmas Spirit."
Zain puts his drink down and pokes through Gina's strategic stock of paper hats. He frowns as if making a complicated decision that could affect the lives of many before holding up a pink-coloured wedge.
Smithy rolls his eyes, he's so far from being in the mood for this. He snatches the hat, flicks the elastic band at Zain, scowling at him, then Gina. Mock-triumphantly, he jams the hat onto his head and their mild smiles turn to beams.
"Right. Happy?" He snaps, taking two drinks this time and stomping back to his refuge behind the bags and coats.
"He's a ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Zain glances over his shoulder at the retreating Smithy.
Gina nods mutely, wishing he would just come back and chat. Company is the best cure for loneliness.