Chris was not a man who liked being sent out of the country to hunt down men who posed threats to said country.
He liked having to work with the police in whatever country he was being sent to even less.
And if he had to pick a place to arrange a stakeout, London would definitely not be the place, and Scotland Yard would definitely not be the representatives of the police he would want to work with.
England. The British. Most of the members of the police he had worked with in that particular country in the past were arrogant and prim and proper enough to make a man want to shoot himself in the head and be done with it.
He shuddered as he remembered that incident with the brothers. It had been Brown and Brown and Black and Black, except Brown and Brown were related but Black and Black were not. That was the last time he had allowed the people he was working with to insist upon that ridiculous habit of using their last names instead of their firsts.
First names were simpler anyway. It was much easier to forget a 'Bill' than a 'Zelazny,' and yes, he had come across that name before, and a few even wilder ones. Not to mention people didn't talk about Officer Tim or Detective Jerry; no, they used last names. Names he didn't want to be able to link to people later.
Chris didn't use his last name; if pressed, he would probably have had to think for a minute before he could tell what it was nowadays. As he waited for the men he would be working with to arrive, he hoped that their superior had done his job properly and informed them of his aversion to last names.
He could hear them arriving now, and allowed himself a sigh. They were arguing. Someone had told him the London police force was a quarrelsome bunch. He had been hoping they had been wrong.
"This is your fault, L-"
Someone cut the angry accusation off. "First names only, remember?" A second voice warned the first one.
Someone else laughed. "I'm not sure that's going to do you much good, Giles."
"Altheney is probably right, you know." That first voice pointed out.
A soft sigh. Then a knock on the door.
"Come in." Chris told them. They did, and once inside, stopped to give him a thorough looking over even as he did the same to them.
"Chris?" The second voice in the hall.
"Giles." Chris replied. The man nodded. He was the smallest of the bunch, and the least uncertain. He had been here before, done that. That had been one of the reasons he had been chosen. The man had dark hair, dark eyes, and a look about him that suggested he knew more than he would admit to.
"Which one of you is Athelney?" The man in question started, and Chris couldn't suppress a chuckle. "You were arguing loudly enough in the hall, I'd be surprised if the whole block didn't know those two names by now."
Athelney was a stout fellow, and burly, with twinkling eyes and a reddish complexion. He also looked to be a bit irritated at being reproved by the member of the United States Secret Service standing before them.
The tall, blond man's eyebrows went up. "I suppose your last name would have been less memorable." He said to Athelney. "Mine too, for that matter." He was wary, but still projected an attitude of cool, casual, arrogant disinterest. It almost worked on Chris.
"Until the papers decided to stop picking on-Giles," there was only the slightest catch on the name, "and turned back to you for a bit. As far as that goes, Athelney and Tobias are still better. There aren't many places in London I could walk into and ask if anyone had seen Inspector Giles without getting blank looks." This man was more relaxed that Giles. Chris suspected that he was the laid back kind of fellow that if involved in a firefight would simply shrug and return fire, then go back to his beer. Then again, Chris had seen plenty of easygoing people lose that cool in the face of danger.
"Could you walk in anywhere and ask that without getting blank looks?" The youngest of the group wanted to know. He had a nervous, untried look about him that made Chris worry. He would have to keep an eye on that one.
Tobias snorted. "People in the Yard would probably give you blank looks if you asked that. You've seen how he signs his name."
"With a G." The easygoing fellow explained for Chris's benefit. "I'm Roger, by the way. That's Tobias," he pointed, "and the lad there is Stanley."
So Chris had Giles, Athelney, Tobias, Roger, and Stanley. He supposed it could have been worse. It looked like they might settle down and actually start on business, until Tobias answered Stanley's question.
"You could ask for Inspector Giles at his house. His wife would know who you were talking about." Chris resisted the urge to groan and beat his head against the wall.
Giles cleared his throat. "We aren't here to socialize, you know."
"I was aware of that." Tobias retorted. "You would be my last choice of someone to visit with."
"Thanks." Giles snapped. "Now shut up, so we can get this over with."
"Pay up." Roger smirked. "I told you he hates this classified stuff." Giles shot both him and Athelney a glare, and Athelney handed the coin over without uttering a word.
Chris felt it was time to regain control over the situation. "Gentlemen." He said, drawing their attention. "Let me explain to you why you're here."
Stanley opened his mouth. "Keep your mouth shut, Stanley." Tobias cut him off.
Chris was curious. He forced himself back to the whole reason they were here. "I am with the United States Secret Service." Nods all around; they already knew that. "I am here after a man who is a serious threat to the government back home. I have been assured of both your cooperation and discretion in this matter." More nods; Stanley suddenly looked alarmed.
Chris continued. "We are here because this man is supposed to be meeting with several second parties interested in what he has to offer. This meeting is taking place tonight, in the building across the street. We are to wait for that meeting to start, and put a stop to this threat."
Tobias looked thoughtful. "Just what do you mean when you say 'put a stop to'?" He asked.
Chris looked him dead in the eye. "I mean that he is not, under any circumstances, or for any reason, to get away."
"When is this meeting taking place?" Athelney wanted to know.
Chris sighed. "We don't know, exactly."
"Stakeout." Roger commented. "We'll be here all night." He didn't seem particularly worried.
Tobias groaned. "My wife is not going to be pleased." He glared at Giles. "It's not fair." Giles ignored him in favor of finally allowing himself to yawn behind his hand. "Tired?" Tobias sneered.
Giles didn't ignore that. "Of course I'm tired. I've been on my feet since yesterday morning when someone dragged me away out before breakfast with stories of a bear running loose in London."
Stanley looked sheepish. "It was a bear, and I didn't know what to do. They don't cover than in training."
"It was a bear cub." Giles pointed out. "Escaped from the circus. They were more than capable of handling the situation after you sent for them."
Roger grinned. "So you kept an eye on the bear while he went for the circus?" Giles nodded. "Why didn't you go back home after that?"
"He ran into Mr. Holmes." Stanley explained.
"And nearly got my skull knocked in by a grave robber with a shovel." Giles added. "And then-"
"Okay, okay, it was one of those days." Tobias interrupted hastily. "So put Stanley on watch, and we'll all get some shut-eye while we're waiting." He shot a look at Chris. "That is, if he doesn't have a problem with it."
Chris knew quite a few people who would have had a problem with it. Chris personally was of the opinion that it was best to sleep when you had the chance, and it was late.
Then again, he wasn't so sure about the kid taking the watch. Or the fact that the others had apparently given him little choice in the matter.
"Go ahead." He said. "But are you sure he's the best choice?"
Stanley looked alarmed. "I don't mind." He quickly assured Chris. It wasn't immensely convincing.
"It makes sense for him to do it." Athelney was saying as he looked around the room for a place to lay himself down. "Stanley doesn't sleep."
Stanley shrugged off the comment and took his post. Chris watched as the other four settled down in the floor of the mostly empty room without complaining and were shortly asleep.
Chris turned to Stanley. "You don't need to take the whole time. If our man doesn't show up within three hours, wake me up and I'll take a turn."
Stanley flushed. "You don't have to do that." He mumbled.
Chris rolled his eyes. "Wake me up in three hours. Consider that an order."
Three hours later, Stanley had reluctantly awakened him, but had shown no inclination to join the others on the floor. Chris wondered if maybe he were too nervous to consider sleeping, for the boy certainly did seem worried about the work ahead of them. He was still watching for their man, so Chris allowed himself a moment to study the lad.
Stanley turned and met his gaze evenly. "I don't sleep." He assured Chris before he went back to staring out the window. "Not much, anyway. An hour or two a night, maybe." He shrugged. "I never seemed to need much sleep, so I became the natural choice of watch on stakeouts. I don't mind, not really, depending on who I'm working with."
Chris didn't really like socializing with the people he had to work with, but he couldn't help asking anyway. "Why should a different partner make a difference to you?" He asked. "If they all sleep…"
Stanley raised an eyebrow. "You'll see." He said cryptically. The two of them went back to staring out the window.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes does not belong to me.
