Part 2 of 2

Dwayne nods, "Yes! I mean YOU! These guys take one look at you shinin' so bright an' they just can't help they selves! They gotta come over an' try t' cut in an' the Chief has t' speak up an' then they insult 'im an' you get mad an' next thing we know we're escortin' another drunk buncha bully-boys out onta the street! Oh, we kin almost set our watches by it!"

Camille laughs uproariously at this, Fidel nods, and the Chief looks completely exonerated.

As her laughter dies down and everyone settles in for a quieter evening, Richard suddenly speaks up, "You know, there WAS a time when bullies used to bother me quite a bit." Eyes harden and turn to him in umbrage. He sees this and nods, "Yes, indeed, at my local pub, The White Hart. Sometimes I'd be just sitting here, in my snug, a pint in my hand, watching the sleet spat against the window pane in front of me and for no reason some pumped-up drunk would start insulting me."

Now he hears low growls but continues, "It was usually one of my so-called colleagues but not always. Sometimes it was a former school bully passing through, sometimes a complete stranger. Ah, me, my life was such a misery." He sighs and slumps and hears louder growls.

Fidel thumps a fist onto the tabletop, "But that's all over and done with, sir! You're here now, with us! No one gets to bother you anymore. Isn't that right, Dwayne? Camille?"

Camille slides a hand back over Richard's, "Oh, sure, no one." Her eyes gleam and meet Richard's lightning glance. Except ME, her eyes say, only just ME!

Richard nods, "Yes, that's true, Fidel, things have certainly changed for me, and for the better! I can't think why I wanted to go back to England, it's a cold place, in more ways than one. Besides, here I have a different reason for being picked on… and I don't mind in the least."

He smiles at Camille and she smiles back. The officers see this and smile in turn. Yes, the Chief gets picked on for completely different reasons now, doesn't he?

Richard sits back, "I remember being threatened by Patrick Knight. Do YOU remember me being threatened by Patrick Knight, Camille?" She nods, eyes flashing, and he adds, "Yes, I remember him telling me I was up against a bigger man than myself." He jinks an eye to Camille and asks, "And what was my answer? Do you remember that too?"

"I do," she intones. "You said 'You could intimidate me in a bar, but not here.' At the time I thought you meant you were protected by us, your team, but now I know you meant something else."

"Did I?" His face is at peace, his voice soft.

"Yes," she whispers back, gesturing to the other two attentive men, "You DO have our protection. No one lays a finger on you. NO one! But I think you also meant that since coming here, you've changed, grown, found yourself. You're no longer the loner trying to survive on your own. You are the Chief of Police with the full weight of the law on your side, with your team's unyielding support, and you will see justice done no matter the consequences."

He smiles, "Well, as a wise man once said to me, 'There's more to Life than Life.'" He chuffs at Fidel's pleased look before continuing, "And you're right, I'm not one person alone anymore. I'm part of something bigger, something better, and the threat of a beating won't stop me."

Dwayne sniffs, "Hey, I've always wondered… you ever been in a real fight, Chief?"

Richard shakes his head sadly, "Other than scuffles at school, no. I've often lamented that fact. I don't think a man can truly know his limits until he's been in a real knock-down drag-out fistfight! I've never even suffered a broken bone. I was a VERY careful child."

Camille groans and reaches across the table to tap the bridge of his nose and this time he doesn't pull away, "Oh, gosh, no! Please don't EVER damage this gorgeous Roman nose! It would break my heart!" She props herself up on both elbows, frowns, "I guess that's why I do it, to save that nose."

The men laugh quietly. Women! Who can fathom them? Dwayne leaves to fetch another round of drinks and Fidel steps away to make a quick phone call home. During this lull, Richard leans forward for a private word with Camille, "I know why you do it, you know," he mutters.

She blinks innocent eyes at him then looks down to where his hand taps on hers, to where her wedding band is noticeably missing. She looks back up, waiting to see if he's correct or not.

"When you're in a particularly 'aggressive' sexual mood, you leave your ring at home in the little cup by the sink, don't you? You leave your ring so men will think you're single and hit on you. They hit on you, you go postal to get your blood pumping and then you take me home. Am I right?"

Her eyes are hot and fierce. She nods once, her hand cinching around his wrist like a manacle.

He nods back, "I thought so. Well, maybe it's time you take me home and get it out of your system." He leans in again, "Or should I say… get me INTO your system."

Her eyes flare madly and she murmurs, "Oh, Richard, you just earned yourself a world of hurt."

He sips his tea, eyes glowing cat's-eye green in the half-light, "Do you promise?"

Moments later Dwayne comes back with the new drinks and Fidel finishes his call. Both men pause. Their table is noticeably missing two bodies. Dwayne sets down the drinks, pushing two towards Fidel and taking two for himself, "Well, that's THEM done fer the evenin'."

Fidel snorts, "I'm surprised she held out at long as she did."

They raise a glass to absent friends and finish this Friday evening in their usual manner.

As do their absent friends.

END