When Duty Isn't Enough
Author: Firebird
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.
**
Up, juice, jog, glance at Lily's curtains (open), shower, breakfast, work. Cartwright and Wainwright were conspicuous by their absence – Turner grunted something about their investigating a break-in up at Twin Hills Farm – and Fisher was out on patrol, but Doris and Danny were there, grinning like a pair of idiots as they loitered by the door to his office.
"We got you something," Danny told him brightly. "Well, Doris got it, but I think it's a great idea."
Nick was careful to keep his expression neutral as Doris pulled an A4 envelope out from behind her back. "Ta-da!"
"It's... an envelope."
"Open it."
Inside there was a calendar. Pink, with photographs of flowers.
"Well, it's very nice. What is it for?"
"It's your Lily calendar," Doris told him.
Nick thought about this for a moment. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not following."
"Flowers? Lilies are a type of flower?" she tried.
"Still not with you."
"Well," Danny explained, "you know how you once told me that you kept missing important events when you were going out with Janine?"
"Yes."
"So, you keep this in your office and you put all of your important events onto it. Like Lily's birthday, your anniversaries, dates. All the stuff you need to remember."
"And then what?"
"Then you make sure you don't miss any of the dates."
"Yeah, one good thing about being the boss is you can delegate."
They were still grinning, clearly pleased with themselves, and Nick felt a sudden warm glow at their friendship. "That's very kind of you, thank you."
"So, do you know when her birthday is, then?" Doris asked.
"Uh," he reached for his trusty note-pad. "She mentioned it, yes."
"Isn't that note-pad for official police business only?" Danny teased as Doris reached over to her desk and grabbed a red biro.
"Well..."
"It's colour-coded," she explained. "Red means you can't afford to miss it. Blue means you might get away with it."
"Birthdays are red-letter days?"
"Along with your one-month, six-month, and one-year anniversaries, and Valentine's Day."
"One year? You do know I only met her three days ago?"
"Well, no harm in being prepared, is there?" Doris passed the calendar back to him and picked up her hat. "Got to go, Chief, we're on patrol."
"See ya later, mate. Put that calendar up, okay?"
And with that they were gone. Nick turned the calendar over in his hands. It sounded crazy, but then so had single-handedly taking on the NWA with an arsenal of impounded weapons and no back-up , and he'd managed that, so maybe it was worth a shot. He found a tack and pinned the calendar up on the wall of his office, then turned his attention to the files of the applicants for the two Police Constable's positions he needed to fill.
With everyone out on patrol the station was almost eerily quiet. Day-shift Turner was far less garrulous than his night-shift twin, and Nick was undisturbed as he considered the applications in front of him. He had never bothered to recruit a new P.C. when Danny had made sergeant, preferring to focus on up-skilling his existing team rather than breaking in new members, but with Walker's departure he felt the time was right to start looking. He was hoping, as he began reading applications, that he would be able to expand the diversity of the Sandford service, either with an officer from an ethnic minority, or with another female officer, or both, but he was realistic enough to accept that he needed the best officers he could get and, given the make-up of the British police service as a whole, that might very well mean accepting two more white males.
He soon found one promising candidate, a young Afro-Caribbean P.C. from Birmingham. She had a good record and what appeared to be a promising career-path open to her up there, though, and he made a note to look into her motives for applying for a position somewhere as out-of-the-way as Sandford. As he had feared, the remaining candidates were mainly second-string, and the rest of his aptly-named short-list consisted of white males. He smiled slightly to himself at the irony that the demographic responsible for the majority of crime also furnished the majority of law enforcement officers, but irony was no substitute for suitable candidates.
He glanced around his office with a sigh, his eyes coming to rest on his new calendar. He recalled something Danny had said about dates, and it occurred to him suddenly that he had not as yet made any actual plans to take Lily anywhere. Reflecting that he was overdue for his Union-mandated break anyway, he determined to rectify the situation forthwith. A glance at his regular planner confirmed several free evenings in the near future, and he reached into his breast pocket for his note-pad.
Flicking it open to the page headed 'Lily' he found listed, along with details such as her full name, date of birth, and the way she liked her tea, her mobile number. Mobiles were still somewhat of a novelty in Sandford, reception having been touch-and-go, heavy on the 'go', for a long time, and the first local tower had only been constructed in the wake of the storm of finger-pointing and if-onlys that the Sandford Conspiracy had raised. Reception was still patchy, particularly in the outlying areas, but sales had been high as almost every resident sought the security of having assistance and the ability to check on their loved ones only a phonecall away at any given moment.
Lily's phone rang three times before she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Lily, it's Nick."
"Nick?" she sounded surprised. "I thought you were at work."
"Yeah, I am. Tea-break. Just a quick phonecall to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me over in Buford Abbey this Tuesday?" He crossed his fingers but needn't have worried.
"Yeah, that sounds great."
"Okay, great. I'll get back to you with the details, but pick you up around six?"
"Sounds great. I'll be ready." He was about to say goodbye when she cut him off. "Ah, Nick, you do remember what I said about being habitually late, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, if you're a little adrift of six I really won't mind."
He wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated, so settled for the former. "A little after six; got it." Movement in the doorway brought his head up, to see Sergeant Tony Fisher staring at him with an expression of poorly-concealed disbelief on his face. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Later."
Silence on the other end of the line confirmed that she had hung up, and Nick replaced the receiver in the cradle and directed his gaze at Tony. "Did you want something, Sergeant?" he prompted after a moment of silence had passed.
"Yeah, no, erm-" Tony was clearly trying to gather his thoughts after catching his Inspector in the act of making a personal call during working hours. "Who was that?"
"Probably better if you ask Doris," Nick replied, deciding that she would enjoy filling Tony in far more than he would. "You wanted...?"
"Oh, yeah. Just to let you know that I've brought in Thomas Driver. Caught him loiterin' outside old Mrs. Weaver's front window, and given half the village knows she's back in hospital I thought it might have something to do with the recent break-ins. So I'm runnin' his prints while he cools his heels in holding."
Nick nodded. "Good work, Sergeant. Keep me posted."
Fisher nodded. "Will do." With a last curious glance at the telephone he left, no doubt in search of Doris. Nick watched him go, then reached for a blue pen.