Words Can Never Hurt Me, 9x02 "Marked Twain"
"You know, they rejected me."
George feigned surprise. "What, the Empire Club?"
"Yes," Henry huffed. "Apparently, my thievery was noted." He looked out of the corner of his eye at George. "You didn't say anything, did you, George?"
George threw his hands in the air. "All right, that's enough!" he exploded. "No, Constable First Class Henry Higgins, I did not rat you out to the Empire Club over a bottle of mouthwash!" He took a step forward, until he was nearly on top of Henry's boots. "Although to be honest, you could use a swig of it, my friend. That mouth of yours has been dripping with nothing b-but arrogance and smugness since I got out of the Don Jail!" Henry tried to take a step backwards, nearly landing on top of Worsely, who sidestepped awkwardly out of the way. A crowd was forming, but George's attention was all on Henry.
"I am well aware, Henry, that you have been promoted to Constable First Class. I do not need the constant, ever-present reminder of the fact that you now hold my position and that you outrank me! Quite frankly, I don't understand how it happened! You couldn't find your arse with both hands and a map. I-I can only conclude that the Inspector and the Detective must have had a moment of-of temporary insanity."
That statement brought Inspector Brackenreid and Detective Murdoch from their meeting. Both men stood with their mouths agape as George continued his rant.
"Does the fact that we're friends mean nothing to you?" George wondered aloud. "I sat by your bedside when I thought you were dead after that explosion, praying to God that you would pull through, because I didn't think I could stand being in this station house without you, Henry. I took great pleasure in interrogating Decker so I could serve justice for you! And what have I been given in return, in the last four years?" George shook his head. "Four years of cleaning up your mistakes. Four years of putting up with your-your conceit and your perceived self-importance and-and mediocre detective skills! All so you could take this farce of a promotion and-and shove it in my face!"
"Crabtree!" Brackenreid barked, at the same time Murdoch said "George," in a warning tone.
"He's been taking credit for my deductions this entire time!" George yelled over his shoulder. "I was the one who found the gun that was the attempted murder weapon in the bins outside the Empire Club. And I'm nearly done." George plucked Henry's newly-printed business card from his partner's breast pocket. "This friendship has been one-sided since the beginning and I take comfort in the fact," he murmured, turning the small, white card over in his hands, "that at some point in all this foolishness, your conceit and self-importance will be your undoing." He looked at Henry's slackjawed expression, and proceeded to rip his business card into several pieces. "Enjoy your promotion, Constable First Class Henry Higgins."
George blinked. Henry was staring at him. He swallowed. "Of course not," he reassured his friend. Then, he smirked. "And Henry? All they would've had to do was take a whiff of you," he added, noting the smell of rosewater on his breath.
Henry rolled his eyes and walked away. George sighed. Some things, he decided, were better left unsaid. He knew, in his heart, that Henry was excited, and desperate to prove himself, and that it wasn't meant in malice.
Sticks and stones, George thought. But words, however….
Author's Note: A prompt by Kiki again :) She wondered why George wouldn't just go off on Henry at the incessant use of "Constable First Class." Had our George had that bone in his body, I imagine this is what it might have looked like. George is a better man than I would be in that situation.