Victory: CrabtreeMania (8x16)
George was in particularly high spirits this morning as he walked from his boarding house to Station House 4. He nodded politely to the ladies at the hat shop, whistled a jaunty tune as he nodded to McNabb and Worsely as they passed him coming off the night shift. Last night, he thought, with a grin. Last night was incredible.
Cracking The Cossack over the head with the chair, the audience erupting into cheers and applause. Edna, meeting him in the center of the ring, kissing him soundly. Her small shriek of surprise when he'd lifted her off the mat and onto his shoulders, parading around in victory. And the smile on Simon's face as he'd asked for his autograph.
Oh, if someone could bottle that feeling, they could make millions! George was still smiling as he walked into Station House 4, helmet under his arm. He didn't recall ever feeling so elated-not even when Curse of the Pharaohs had been published.
Inspector Brackenreid and Detective Murdoch were standing just inside the bullpen, near his desk. His smile faded, only slightly. He'd forgotten the reason he was there. They'd called him, asked him to come in early that morning. He didn't know why. That made him a little nervous. But he refused to let it get him down.
"Sirs. You called for me?" George announced himself to the backs of his superiors.
Inspector Brackenreid turned around. "Ah, Crabtree," he greeted him, stepping away from Murdoch to clear a path for George to stand inbetween them. He looked over George's head at Murdoch, who gave a slight nod. What's going on? "We wanted to compliment you on a fine piece of work," Brackenreid told George.
The giddy feeling returned and George felt his ears turning pink. The Inspector didn't hand out compliments lightly. "Even if your diligence did uncover that the sport of wrestling is a sham," the Inspector continued.
George chuckled, embarrassed. That's the Inspector for you, he gives and then he takes.
"Yes, I doubt fans will continue to follow it so feverishly once the truth reaches them," Murdoch added. George started to feel a little warm under his uniform. Butterflies were invading. He thought he'd done well on the Randolph case, but had he forgotten something? Was there something he'd forgotten to-to…Oh God.
"Nevertheless," Brackenreid went on, "I think it's about time you got measured for a new suit."
George looked at him, unsure if he'd heard him correctly. New suit? What? "Sir?" He had no idea where this was going, his fingers running absently over the lip of his helmet. Does he mean like a regular suit? Am I getting fired?
"Yes, George." Murdoch said with a smile of his own. "You've been serving in a constable's tunic long enough."
A constable's tunic long enough. George looked between the two of them. Did he just- "Sirs, I-" Does that mean what I think it does?
"Don't be thick, buggerlugs." There was a hint of the Inspector's usual annoyance with him in his voice. He nodded to George. "There's an opening at Station House 3 for a new detective. I've put you forward."
George's heart pounded. Had he really heard that correctly? Detective?! He opened his mouth to say something, to ask a question, but nothing came out. He caught Detective Murdoch's amused smile.
"They'd be lucky to have you, George." Murdoch clapped him on the shoulder. George's two superiors nodded to him, then left for their respective offices, leaving George still standing, stunned.
Detective! The one thing I've wanted since I came back to Toronto. The opportunity to be on equal footing with Detective Murdoch-no, never equal, but at least with the same rank. A-a dream come true, one that I've worked my whole life toward-well, maybe not my whole life, there was that stint where I wanted to be a pirate-
George somehow found his chair without missing it and sat down. New detective. They'd be lucky to have you, George. The words ran over and over his mind. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the grin that hadn't quite gone away, nor was he sure that it ever would.
Detective George Crabtree.
He glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and pumped his fist.
Detective George Crabtree, Toronto Constabulary.
He'd thought nothing could match that feeling of victory from the night before. He was wrong.
Author's Note: My challenge for myself with these is for every bummer/serious one, I do a lighthearted Crabtree moment. They abound in equal amounts in the series, and I can't bring myself to keep giving George such a hard time. :) This one was a fun one, he just looks so damned shocked in the episode when it's a promotion well-deserved!