Chapter 2

The murder case that landed on his lap the second they walked back into the station was an absolute blessing. Well, obviously not for the person who was killed or their family and friends – but it did mean that Richard had an instant distraction from Camille. For two days they didn't have time for anything but professionalism. When it suddenly became clear to him just who the killer was, he was apprehensive for two reasons. Firstly, the suspect was known to have a short fuse and had 3 assault charges to him name and secondly, he knew he was about to lose the one thing that had been keeping him sane.

Given the subject's nature, Richard decided this was probably an arrest they should make with as few people around as possible. He presented the evidence to the rest of the time, then informed them he was off to arrest Mr Clayton as he came back from his day fishing. He tried not to be offended when 3 faces looked back at him doubtfully, but it did rather pique him.

"What?" He asked, though Richard had a pretty good idea what was coming.

"Maybe you should let me and Fidel handle this one, Chief," Dwayne suggested. "I've arrested him before, know what he's like. You've done the hard work finding the evidence to prove it was him, we can do the messy part of picking him up."

"I'm perfectly capable of arresting him myself!" He snapped back. Before the trip to London, he wasn't entirely sure he would have objected so strongly to the implications of Dwayne's statement. A small voice in his head pointed out that perhaps he wanted to prove he could arrest Mr Clayton without incident because he, of all people, was trying to impress a girl. However that voice was clearly mistaken, because he had no need to impress Camille. Squashing it along with the certain amount of nerves he was feeling, he marched out of the station without a backwards glance.

Camille rolled her eyes at Richard's stubbornness. He was a brilliant detective, he didn't need to bring down men twice his size to prove that. Fidel and Dwayne were giving her almost imploring looks, clearly genuinely concerned their boss was about to get his ass kicked.

"Camille, he'll get himself killed. Should we follow him?" Fidel asked.

"No, no, I'll go with him. He won't object to me being there." Her fellow officers immediately relaxed, clearly they had no concerns about her ability to protect herself…and Richard. Actually she could sort of understand why he got a bit defensive when Dwayne suggested he took the arrest, especially when Dwayne was actually a couple of years older than him. It probably was a bit emasculating. She would have to be extra careful that he didn't think that she was coming just to protect him.

He was staring at the jeep, frowning. Because of his little strop he had completely forgotten that Camille was the one who had the keys. Perhaps he was considering breaking in and hot wiring it, given his vast scientific knowledge, it probably actually was a set of skills he had. It would certainly be less embarrassing than him having to come back into the station.

"Come on," she said, as she unlocked the Defender and climbed in the driver's seat. He looked like he was going to protest but then climbed in the passenger seat beside her.

"I don't need your help arresting him either," he grumbled, clearly still in a bad mood and suspicious of her motivations.

"I didn't say you did. But it's a long drive to the other side of the island and I thought you might like company other than Mr Clayton on the way back." Camille told him, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "I know you don't always appreciate my small talk but I hope it is preferable to a litany of abuse."

"Right, yeah, of course." He didn't look entirely convinced by her reasons for joining him, but he didn't question them either. "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome."

When they pulled up at the section of the coast where Clayton moored for the evening, the man himself could be seen unloading equipment from his boat into the back of his pickup. Camille jumped down immediately from the vehicle, but Richard paused for a moment to assess their target. It seemed that it had slipped his mind earlier that the man did have a good five inches on him. As a consequence he rummaged through the supplies in the vehicle to ensure he had everything he needed.

Camille knew Clayton was tall, but she had forgotten just how tall. She sort of wished she was armed – not because she relished shooting people, but many a man in her time had been subdued by the mere site of a weapon. Most people were smart enough to know they could not move faster than a bullet. However she'd had to learn to live without her weapon long before she moved on to the Saint Marie police force – you could hardly carry one when you were undercover – so she was still confident she could defend herself. In fact, if Mr Clayton did try to attack her, she was more worried Richard would be stupid enough to make a move to try to defend her and just end up getting hurt in the process.

Clayton had spotted them, and was glaring already. Richard finally got out of the vehicle, goodness knows what he was doing in there. He was wearing a determined look and Camille had to hide a smile. She walked just behind him as they approached their suspect.

"This is police harassment!" Clayton spat before they had said anything at all. "I've answered your questions, what else could you possibly want from me?"

"Well, we're arresting you for the murder of Susan Cash. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. If you would come along quietly, that would be most appreciated." Did Richard actually think asking nicely was going to work on this man? They should have cuffed him before he knew what was happening!

"Do you honestly think you two could subdue me if I decided I didn't want to?" Clayton sneered. "Because I am 100% sure I can take you on. So you know what, I don't think I will." He was squaring up now, sending off every single signal he intended violence they were taught to look for in training.

Camille was trying to make a quick decision about where it would be most effective to hit Mr Clayton first, when she saw Richard remove and engage an extendable baton parallel to his leg. She saw Clayton hesitate for a moment, the sight of the baton enough to make him question his actions. He clearly decided it wasn't a threat after all, because the next second he was lunging for Richard. The warning she opened her mouth to give was entirely unnecessary. With his left arm Richard easily blocked Clayton's arm, then struck him on side of the torso with the baton. With Clayton suitably distracted by the pain of that strike, it didn't take much effort for Richard to drive forward with the baton and knock their suspect to the ground. He then calmly retrieved his cuffs and restrained Clayton where he lay.

Camille hoped that she was not a shallow person. She always tried to look past the surface of people and really get to know them. Though many of her friends may express a desire to have a man make them feel safe, displays of physical strength or skills were not necessary for her to find a man attractive. If they were, she would not have fallen in love with somebody who she genuinely believed she could beat in a fist fight. Yet, despite all of her high and mighty views about always looking at a person as a whole, she had still just found Richard subduing the suspect incredibly sexy. If it weren't for the fact the man was still writhing on the beach in pain, she would probably throw herself at him this very moment.

"Help me get him up, will you?" Richard's voice brought her back to reality, and they each took an arm to pull Clayton to his feet and loaded him in the back of the jeep.

After they had shut the doors, she turned to him and said breathlessly, "That was very impressive." She only just managed to resist the urge to laugh lightly and toss her hair.

"Yeah well you lot seem to think I was born a DI or something. I did used to be a PC once, had to arrest plenty of people bigger than me and did my fair share of riot control and raids." His response was rather brusque, he clearly though Camille's compliment had been due to her doubting his skills in the first place. The man could really hold a grudge.

"Yes, but, what I mean is, can you teach me how to use that?" She had suddenly seen a route to being able to spend some more time with him.

"You don't know how to use an extendable baton?" He looked at her doubtfully.

"My training was in France, remember? We were armed so we didn't spend much time on other defensive techniques."

"Ah yes, sometimes I do forget you're French, though I don't know how given how often you do or say something to remind me of the fact," he said sarcastically. Camille narrowed his eyes at him, but he just smirked in response. "Well, I'm hardly overcome with concern for your safety at the revelation, you have obviously had extensive hand to hand training and I'm pretty confident you can look after yourself with or without a baton…"

"Thank you!" Camille was actually genuinely pleased with the compliment. It was always nice to hear somebody recognising your skills, especially somebody who a year ago would have never thought to do so. She had clearly trained him well.

"…But since you are interested, I will look into what courses are available. It is safer to disarm with a baton than hand to hand as well." With that he went to climb back into the vehicle. Camille frowned, this was not part of her plan.

As she climbed into the driver's seat she asked, "Why can't you just teach me?"

He looked like the answer should be obvious, "I'm not a qualified trainer, am I?"

"I'm not exactly after a certificate, Richard. As you pointed out I have several other skills in my arsenal, so some casual training would be more than enough," she argued back.

"But we haven't got any of the necessary equipment!"

"Do we have extendable batons?" She asked calmly.

"Yes…but…"

"Well what else do we need?"

"Well there are health and safety issues, so personal protective equipment should really be worn and…"

She cut him off, "I promise not to sue if you accidently bruise me or something." He didn't reply to that, but she didn't take his silence as agreement either. Richard often just dropped a subject and hoped you forgot about it, but this was a request she fully intended to pursue.

"Dwayne call Dr Johnston please, I think Mr Clayton might have cracked a rib."

The request rather amused Dwayne. He picked up the receiver as Richard escorted the prisoner to the cells. Whilst it was ringing he asked Camille, "You punch him in the ribs?"

"It wasn't me who took him down, it was the Inspector." This surprised Dwayne so much it took him a few moments to realise the phone had actually been answered. "Uh yes, Dr Johnston, could you perhaps come to the station to check a prisoner over?"

After he had sorted out the request, he checked the Chief was still talking to the prisoner in the cells, before turning to Camille and indicating she should really elaborate on her earlier statement.

"He is apparently rather skilled at using a baton. Said something about having done riot control when he was a PC," she said with a small shrug and a smile. "I believe he may have more skills than we give him credit for. I want him to give me a couple of lessons but he is refusing on health and safety grounds."

Dwayne snorted, "More like he doesn't want to lose the only method of defence he has against you."

"I would think you would know more about beating off women with a stick, Dwayne." Ah, the Chief had come back in. Oh well, what he had said was quite cheeky, but their boss had gotten a lot more relaxed about the odd bit of teasing. Besides, it was also quite possibly true.

"Yes, Chief," he said with a grin, before returning to his desk.

"Well perhaps you can teach me then, Dwayne, since the Inspector is unwilling too." Dwayne was a little surprised by the request, he was well aware that Camille could look after herself. When he looked at her, he noted she had her best "I'm so hard done by" face on, and he realised the request was not fully serious. She was up to something, but he wasn't sure what.

"I said I would send you on an official course!" Richard protested, meaning Dwayne did not actually have to provide an answer.

"Yes, but our resources are so limited you see, I'd hate to be a drain on them. Besides, it could be months before the next course. You mentioned it was safer to disarm with a baton than hand to hand and you know I would really prefer not to be shot for a third time."

Dwayne was really not sure why Camille was apparently desperate to get baton training from the Inspector, but what the hey - he was always willing to help out a fellow officer.

"Actually Camille I am not sure I am the best person to teach you. I was supposed to attend the refresher course over a year ago but like you said, limited resources and all that," he said apologetically.

The Inspector gave an aggressive sigh, and he watched as Camille hid a smile in response – she knew that she had won. Next time he was out on patrol with Fidel, he'd definitely be discussing this with the young sergeant. It looked to Dwayne that a week away together had had an interesting effect on his senior officers' relationship.

Richard could not believe he'd agreed to this. It was like a recently sober alcoholic saying, 'Oh sure, I'll come down the pub during happy hour and watch you lot get drunk.' He should be doing everything he could to avoid being alone with her until the memories of their time together were a little less…intense. Richard also couldn't figure out if Camille's request had been entirely innocent, was she hoping for something to happen between them again or was he being vain, assuming that she would even want that?

"Richard?" Camille prompted, a small smirk on her lips. He'd gotten distracted when she turned up on his porch in a strappy top and shorts. She was wearing a sports bra, he could see the straps, and though such a thing was hardly sexy compared so some of the lingerie he knew she owned, for some reason he found the site of it a turn on. Yup, he was definitely like a recovering addict.

"Right, ok, first off is engaging the baton…"

"Hang on, is that what you're wearing?" She indicated his shirt and dress trousers. He had actually removed the tie and rolled his sleeves up, so he wasn't sure what the problem was.

"Well I think I demonstrated yesterday you can use a baton in a suit so I hardly think it's necessary to question what I'm wearing," he grumbled.

"Ok, good point. Actually I think it's quite a good look on you. Not sure I've ever seen you with your jacket and tie off before."

"I think we both know you have." God, why did he say that? Richard liked accuracy, it was true, but now was not the moment to remind Camille she had seen him naked – especially since it reminded him he had seen her naked.

"True, but we never paused at this particular stage of the undressing." She was grinning, and Richard was well aware that he was blushing. He began to suspect his initial instinct that she was up to something had been correct.

"Anyway, as I was saying, engaging the baton…" Camille clearly thought this was something she didn't need a lesson in, flicking the baton out and upwards. Richard sighed, "And that is a good example of how we don't do it."

"What is wrong with that?" She asked, frowning.

"You don't want to engage it away from your body," he moved to stand behind her. "When you throw it up and out like that, you could very well end up hitting the person who is standing behind you." He moved her arm to replicate the motion she had done earlier, demonstrating how it would be easy to do. "Since I am often with you when we are on duty, that person may very well be me and I would prefer it if you didn't break my nose. Instead, release it so that it is parallel to your leg."

He took her through a few more standard moves. It was no surprise to him how quickly she was picking it up. He moved on to trying to integrate what she already knew from hand to hand to work with a baton. Given the heat, it wasn't long before they were both a bit breathless. After he deflected one of her attacks (he suspected she had given very deliberate signals of her intentions so that he would be able to), Camille moved back a little and gave him her very best 'come and get me' look. Richard could feel his resolve crumbling. Rather than engaging her again, he collapsed the baton back down and moved further away from her.

Camille was looking rather disappointed and like she was going to plead for some more, but he spoke before she could, "I know what you're doing."

Her face assumed a confused, innocent look that Richard didn't buy for one second. "This whole thing with the baton training - the physical contact, getting my heart rate up, endorphins flowing. It's all designed to remind me of…our time in England. I should have known you'd never stick to the agreement."

"Richard, I didn't realise you'd find the experience so…frustrating. Though I admit I may be feeling pretty similar. Which is funny, when you think about it, I always thought physical activity was supposed to be good for releasing tension…" Oh dear Lord, now she was being deliberately provocative. He bunched both his hands into fists so that he wouldn't be able to use them to grab her and kiss her.

"I think that is a pretty good reason you should leave, then."

"Richard…" She began to protest.

"Don't, Camille, just don't! Maybe you genuinely don't care what people think about you, but I do, ok? I care. So just leave."

"Alright, I'm leaving." He stared at the floor and listened to her gathering up her stuff, but apparently she wasn't quite done torturing him yet. "Could really use a shower, anyway."

Oh yes, that mental image wouldn't be keeping him up half the night.

A/N: I am pretty confident that Camille could actually beat Richard in a fist fight – a lot of people probably could! However Richard must have been a uniformed constable once, and I figured he probably would have spent ages practising with a baton in order to avoid getting the crap kicked out of him. I may have had to watch several videos intended to train people to use extendable batons on order to write this chapter. I may also have a very similar reaction to Camille if I were ever to witness Inspector Poole actually do this on the show, so perhaps I am a little shallow…