Hi everyone. Well, that was a long wait again. My inspiration left me for a moment. Thanks to the people, and Guests that reviewed! I'm glad someone is still reading this. I hope you'll still enjoy.

SWEEPEASPATCH thanks for being my BETA!

Orphanage

Afternoon

Camille stood frozen to the ground. She stared at the tall building in front of her. Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. She felt exhausted after visiting Hollis and the fake fight between Richard and Nick. She had been glad for an hour or so alone, before Richard needed her for the stake out.

She didn't know what had possessed her to come here all of a sudden. It was a feeling. She rubbed her clammy hands on her short dark blue trousers as she straightened her deep purple tank top. The heat was stinging at her skin but she didn't mind. She didn't feel it. She closed her eyes shortly. She didn't know what to do anymore. She felt so powerless. Where are you Kris? And what is happening? Mon Dieu, this was horror. Fidel and Dwayne were still looking at Hollis's background; checking all of his properties. A dull ache made its way into her stomach as she crossed the street towards the Orphanage.

"Detective Sergeant Bordey?" Sister Mary Ann uttered surprised as she recognized Camille in the door opening. Her eyes swooped over the young woman's face as she opened the door wider. "Please, come in. We don't have an appointment do we?" She asked.

Camille shook her head. Even talking seemed too much of an effort right now.

Sister Mary Ann studied the Detective Sergeant's tired form worriedly. "Do you want some lemonade? You don't look so good if you don't mind me saying so." She said as she guided Camille towards a bench in the shade.

Camille nodded faintly. "Merci." She answered as she sat down and just stared in front of her. She wasn't even sure why she'd come here. Maybe to feel closer to Kris? Maybe to take a step back, and see the case from another point of view?

She saw herself back at the Police Station again, Richard behind his desk and Kris walked in. Her face had been so radiant; she was smiling and she seemed happy. Was that all a ruse? Why didn't you tell me Kris? Why didn't you let me help?! Anger spread through her. Camille breathed in deeply and let go slowly as she leaned further into the wooden bench and noticed the green yard in front of her for the first time. She smiled slightly when she saw a little girl resting on her knees, playing with a small bucket. What had Kris said? Something about a girl. Kris had pointed outside and talked about the orphanage. Kris had felt sad for the girl. What had she told them? Camille tried to focus. So many emotions had been going through her that moment. She couldn't remember it vividly. Something about the beach. The orphanage.

"Here you go." Sister Mary Ann said as she held out a big glass of lemonade.

'A little girl, crying on the beach.' Kris's voice came. She remembered. Camille looked up at the Sister. "The beach, a girl was crying at the beach." She blurted out as she took the lemonade gratefully.

"I'm sorry?" The nun asked confused as she frowned.

"Detective Milano, she told me about a little girl. She found the girl on the beach, she'd been crying. Who was that?"

"Ahhh Kris." Sister Mary Ann said with a smile on her face as she lowered herself next to Camille. "Is there any news about her? Fidel and Dwayne asked us questions about her only last week."

Camille nodded. They'd made a time line, to find out where Kris had been and what she'd been doing. "Do you know her?" There were many nuns working here.

"She came here lots of times. To read to the children. They really loved it. She's so good at doing all these different voices."

Camille nodded faintly. Yes, Kris could do funny voices like the best. It wasn't important now.

"Who was the girl on the beach?" Camille asked again as she took a sip of the cold lemonade in her hand.

"Lena? It was Lena." The nun got a sad look on her face. "I remember that day, yes. Lena runs away many times. And this time, Kris brought her back. That's how we got to know her."

"I'd like to meet her." Camille said.

The nun shook her head. "I'm afraid you can't speak to her now."

"Why not?" Camille asked surprised as she put the now empty glass down next to her.

Sister Mary Ann swallowed deep. "She doesn't talk anymore."

"What do you mean?" Camille asked confused.

Sister Mary Ann shrugged and got a worried look on her face. "She came back days ago. She was covered in dirt and blood. She didn't want to talk. We've been trying to get her to talk but she just sits in her room, far away in the farthest corner. And she screams at night. We just can't find out what has happened. We already asked for a psychologist but they're so hard to find around here. You know how it goes. It might take weeks before someone is available to help her."

Camille stood up. "I need to see her."

Lena's room

"And you have no idea what happened to her?" Camille asked as they looked through the half glass door and saw a little girl huddled away in a corner.

"No, we didn't want to involve the police yet. Because she runs away so often we didn't think it was very bad. But we grew more worried every time. What does this have to do with Kris?"

"Non, nothing. Maybe nothing." Camille said sadly. Maybe this was something else totally. "I would like to talk to her."

Sister Mary Ann nodded and let her in the room. However kind the detective would be, nothing would come of it, she pondered. She saw how Lena ducked away, buried her face in her arms.

Hours later

A borrowed car, in front of Nick's hotel.

"It was your idea to sit here." Richard reminded an annoyed Camille.

"I only said that my back hurts. We've been sitting here for hours."

"One hour, to be exact."

"It feels like hours." Camille complained as she put her hand on her lower back and wriggled in her seat.

Richard's eyes wandered towards the cleavage the purple top allowed him to see. He looked away quickly.

"What?" Camille asked. She had seen the look on his face. What was wrong now?

"Nothing." Richard muttered.

Camille rolled her eyes. She knew that tone all too well. "Spit it out already. Your face is an open book to me."

He gave her an annoyed glare and his eyes travelled involuntarily back towards her cleavage. He quickly looked up and away from her. "Did you have to wear something so..." His voice drifted away into nothingness it seemed.

"-So what?" Camille asked impatiently as she looked down at her top. What was wrong with my top? That man could find issue in everything, it seemed. Stuck up, English-

"Naked." Richard answered.

Camille rose an eyebrow and gave him an amused look. "You call this naked?" She started to laugh. "O, Richard, really." She looked out of the car window. "Sometimes I wonder if you even know what naked is?" She swallowed as she noted that that wasn't a very nice remark. But merde! The man slept in long pajamas in this heat! She looked at him and pursed her lips together. "Do you want people to suspect that we're cops?" She looked at his shirt, she'd had a hell of a time to convince him to take off his jacket so if anyone saw them sitting in this car they wouldn't think they were staking out. He had tried on Fidel's shirt but had refused to show it to her. And finally he'd come in one of his own neat shirts.

"You don't look like a cop on a daily basis either." Richard mumbled grumpily as he looked at his empty sandwich wrapper.

"Non, you do." Camille bickered as her eyes flew over his upper body sarcastically. "Cop from Antarctica."

His nostrils flared slightly as he straightened himself immediately. "I don't believe I have to explain the importance of proper clothing in your daily job. It gives of professionalism that-"

"-Here we go." Camille muttered impatiently as she looked away from Richard and slumped in her seat. She wasn't going to listen to that rant again.

"Then don't listen if you don't want to learn." Richard stated in a belligerent tone.

"Learn?" Camille asked as she looked at him. "You want me to learn from you, about clothes?" Her eyes fluttered. She couldn't believe it.

He frowned impatiently at her. Didn't she understand? "About presentation Camille. This is not proper presentation." He said as he pointed at her top.

"Then what is proper presentation on this stake out?"

"Something that covers your-" He froze. And swallowed. His throat had become dry. He just didn't want to think of- Didn't want to say- Didn't want to visualize that... Part...Of her. "-You, better." He finished lamely, hoping she wouldn't notice. But of course she would, it was Camille Bordey sitting next to him. The bane of his existence, so it seemed. Nothing seemed to get by her anymore now that she knew him better. Sometimes he really thought that she could read him like a book. Since when had she gotten so close to him? Since when had anyone ever even noticed things about him, he wondered? In a way, it was a compliment.

"Breasts Richard, they call them breasts." She rolled her eyes. Such a prude. Were all British men like that?

"I know the English word, thank you." He mumbled stiffly.

"You do?" She asked in an astonished, mocking tone as she studied him. She shook her head again and looked away. She had to admit that they were both a bit bored and she was extremely tense. They'd been sitting here for hours, and nothing had happened. They had switched places with Fidel and Dwayne who were busying themselves further with Hollis's properties and background. She thought of Lena. The little girl had been so scared. She hadn't spoken. She'd made sure a psychologist would come for her quickly. Who knew what the girl had gone through?

A long pause stretched out between them.

"Do you think they love each other?" Camille asked when she turned towards him.

"Excuse me?" Richard asked flabbergasted. The way her mind worked, he'd never understand.

"You heard me." She said cheekily as she took a sip of her drink.

"Camille really, what a question to ask. Who?"

"Who do you think?" She shot back. Was he really that dense? Her eyes grew big as she read his features. Or was he just trying to avoid a topic that might be too intimate for him? Well, I don't care about his intimacy problems right now. I'm too high strung at the moment, so he just had to suffer.

Richard sighed out loud. He noted how she pointed at Nick's door with her eyes. He stared at the door for a moment. She must mean Nick and Kris? "Love? After she molested Nick and tricked him like that?"

"I meant before that." Camille mentioned somewhat sadly as she swallowed and stared at the parking lot again. Her eyes scanning the environment professionally.

"I don't know." Richard shrugged. He missed his trusted jacket. This felt so... Naked...He thought of Camille's words just now. Maybe he really didn't know what naked was. He took a sip of his tea. It was cold. And he blamed the French nosy, stubborn piece of work next to him for that.

"Well?" Camille prodded in that compulsory tone she could have.

Sometimes he wondered ; no one else in England would ever talk to me like that, not to a Senior Officer. This was a strange Island. He heard the rustle of her dark curls and he didn't need to look up to know that she was looking at him impatiently. Better answer before things got worse. 'I... This really is none of my business. And it isn't yours either." He reminded her sternly. "And it's woman talk." He commented irritated.

Camille raised her eyebrow. "Why is it woman talk?" She studied him.

He didn't answer.

As usual when the subject was about feelings or other deep things. Camille thought. "You don't do love, Richard Poole?" She asked as she put her drink between her feet on the ground. This was getting interesting after all. Her eyes were on Nick's front door again.

"Camille-" Richard warned as he looked up at her.

"Oh, come on!" Camille blurted out impatiently. She was enjoying herself from the inside. It took her mind off all the worrying she did; she needed the break. Just for a moment. And teasing Richard, prodding at him, pushing him was her new favourite thing to do. Who knew she'd ever grow to like bickering with the stiff know-it-all Brit.

"You're making this very unbearable." Richard mentioned as he wanted to loosen his tie but when his hands went to his neck he noticed that he wasn't wearing one. Naked again. Without his tie. Yes, he felt naked without his jacket and Camille apparently didn't feel naked in her naked top! How weird the world could be!

"Don't be such a party popper. You must have your thoughts on the subject. You've got eyes in your head. I'm interested," she shrugged nonchalantly. Hiding her extreme curiosity easily.

"Pooper." Richard mumbled annoyed.

"What?"

"Never mind." Richard sighed. He didn't see the use of learning her the correct translation for words he didn't like and didn't want to have used against him in the future. "We should watch Nick's door for activity, remember?"

Camille nodded. "Oui, Detective Inspector Poole. I remember. I can do two things at once."

Richard breathed out as he looked away from her. Fleeing was futile...He should probably try to humor her. He'd be here with her for hours maybe. He shrugged. "I don't know really. I'm not so keen on emotions as you might remember."

"Come on Richard." Camille urged. "Give it a try."

He couldn't get out of this, it seemed. "You're being bossy again." He reminded her as he took a sip of his tea.

Camille studied his face. "I'm interested in your inner world. That's something else then being bossy," She countered easily.

That made him look up at her and freeze. He'd never had someone so interested in his inner world. It seemed like a big compliment. Suddenly he felt shy. "Well, err.. I... Let's see... Yes, I did notice something. Between them."

"What?"

"It seems that Nick is fond of her, but I'm not sure. And then it seems that Kris is fond of him before, you know, everything happened. Well, I only concluded this because you mentioned it, I wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. And then they fought a lot. Which makes it complicated for me. I don't know... And it doesn't interest me to be honest."

"They were pushing each other away." Camille clarified as she eyed him and took a sip of her drink lazily.

"But they do like each other it seems...' Richard wondered out loud.

"Oui, I think so too. You can cut the sexual tension between them with a knife."

Richard scraped his throat uncomfortably. "I don't know their reasons and motivations-"

"-Kris had all these walls put up, filled with fear." She remembered how Kris had tried to couple her with Richard, prodding at her feelings all the time. "And then to think she kept on pushing me together with-" She stopped talking quickly. Biting her tongue. "What Nick does, I don't know. I don't know him that well yet." She quickly finished as she took a sip of her coffee. She'd almost said too much. She hoped he wouldn't pick up on it.

"Why would she do that?" Richard asked.

He seemed totally oblivious to her slip up, Camille thought relieved. "I think she's afraid." She looked at him now. "Of rejection. Of repercussions."

Was she still talking about Kris and Nick? He suddenly had the feeling it was about something else. "What repercussions?" Richard asked carefully.

"About their jobs. Their professionality. I don't know how they look upon relationships in England, but they don't really care about it on Saint Marie." She eyed him meaningfully as she hid her mouth behind her teacup. "The Commissioner wouldn't care very much, only if the job isn't done very well."

He didn't react. So she had to pry, it seemed. "What would you do when you were in Nick's shoes?"

"What do you mean?" Richard sighed audibly. "If I was Richard, I would want to drink my tea in peace." He hinted sternly. "When it's still warm." He added ruefully.

"Do you think he likes her?" Camille asked, ignoring him.

"Camille." Richard warned. "You already asked that!"

"Oh come on Richard! You can sit in silence with your cup of tea for the rest of your life! Just humor me for five minutes."

"Good Lord. The things I must go through!" He mumbled chagrined. "Yes, Camille. I think that there is a possibility that detective McGarrett likes his partner. They'll probably marry and have lots of children and you'll get to be their Bridesmaid and you'll have a wonderful time in England for the wedding. That's it. Not possibly in that order."

"So what would you do?"

"Do?" He asked confused as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"To woo her?"

"I don't woo women." He answered quickly with a frown. Stupid word.

"You're in Nick's shoes." She reminded him as she rolled her eyes.

Richard shrugged as he thought about that. "Well... I... I think I would try to make her notice that I care..."

"How? Would you ask her out?" Camille asked interested and a little too eagerly.

"No, that would be... Too straightforward."

"So you don't ask a woman out that you're interested in?" Camille asked confused.

"No, I... I.. Haven't really been in that situation." He was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Not with this Sasha?"

"We were in school, we already hung out together many times." His cheeks began to burn now.

"Just like we do."

"No, that's not the same. Well, maybe...Well, yes in a way...Just... Like we do... Yes." Richard said. He was beginning to feel very stressed now. *haha, good girl, grill him hard!*

"So how do you ever get to a woman?" Camille asked.

Richard shrugged. "I guess, it never came up really." His hands began to feel clammy.

"You never liked a woman besides Sasha?"

He shrugged. "I... I was busy with work and... Well, I'm... I don't go out a lot and... In the job.. Well, there wasn't anyone nice... I guess... Until I came here."

"There's someone nice now?" Camille asked hopefully.

"No!" He quickly denied. Horror and fear spreading through him. " I- I meant... It didn't come up until now." His eyelids were beginning to flutter nervously.

"It didn't?" She asked.

He swallowed. "Not like that." He answered carefully.

Her heart sunk as she stirred her drink. "So if a woman would like you... what would you want?"

Want? "How do you mean?"

Camille put a piece of chocolate in her mouth as she studied him. "I'm just trying to understand you Richard. What would be ideal for you?"

"Oh I... I haven't been in that situation really... I haven't... You know." He shrugged.

"Just imagine."

"I'm not that good with imagining." His irritation began to grow. She was prying again.

She raised an eyebrow. "Think of one of the woman you ogled-"

"I do not ogle!" That again! Richard snapped.

'The blond one, who was in her bikini, with the big breasts and-"

"-I did not ogle her! And her br- They weren't- I didn't see-" Yes, she'd had big breasts. And he'd wondered how it would feel to put his hands around them. How their weight would feel if he'd squeezed, and if a woman would like that. And he'd fantasized about that same thing with Camille. He pushed that thought away immediately.

"Oh! But you know who I'm talking about instantly! You liked her."

"I did not like her." His cheeks began to burn. He felt trapped.

"I saw you looking!'

"I did not look!" Richard countered fiercely.

"You did look! Why is it so difficult to admit?" Camille shrugged.

'Why is it so difficult for you to just leave me be!" Richard uttered frustrated. That woman! French, stupid-

"I don't want to leave you be!" Camille suddenly blurted out heatedly.

Richard's mouth fell open as he froze and stared at her. "Why not?!" He managed to utter when he'd found his voice again.

"Because I want to understand you! I want to-" Her voice left her as she stared at him. She swallowed. She felt her cheeks beginning to burn. "I just... Want to get to know you better. Is that such a crime?"

Richard looked at her. "No..." He admitted. "It's... That's... Kind of..." Sweet. "Kind." He mumbled as he looked away, not daring to make eye contact.

"So?"

"What?"

"What should a woman do to come close to you? For you to let her close?" She shrugged. "I'm just curious, nothing more."

"Oh, yes. That... Well...Er... Hypothetically..." He thought about that. "Well, I just... I can't really imagine that someone... But if someone would be interested well I guess... You know..."

"What? Some light jigsaw-puzzling together?" Camille asked.

Richard looked up at her. "No."

"Watch Fiona Bruce together with her?" She proposed.

"No. Most certainly not."

"Do a crossword together?"

"No. Well, maybe later... When we're later in the relationship."

"Not on the first date?"

"Well.. That would be... Awkward maybe." Richard pondered.

"It would." She agreed as she nodded.

"No, Camille!" He snapped impatiently. He wasn't totally clueless! Why was she acting like he was? He did know a thing or two about women. Or one. Or none... Not that much to be honest... "I would take her out to dinner I guess."

"Seafood?" She teased.

"NO! You're doing this on purpose." Richard frowned as he glared at her. It seemed like she was enjoying herself. Why was that? He just didn't understand.

Camille shrugged cheekily. "You would take her to your dreary caravan in Clacton and look at the rain together?"

"No, I … I would find out what she likes and then... Dinner... And then... Awkward silences... O god, you're right... I wouldn't be good at.. The whole dating thing." He quickly admitted.

"But she would know that."

"How would she know that?" Richard asked surprised in a high pitched voice.

"For example Kris and Nick, they know each other through and through. So they would know things like that."

"Yes, you're right. That's right." He nodded as he thought about that. Could it be possible to go on a date with a woman he felt at ease with? Could it be possible to not die a thousand deaths on a date? To actually enjoy it? To be able to speak fluently and to look at her? It didn't seem very likely... And the comparison with Kris and Nick, they were both well versed, and beautiful. He couldn't quite see them stuttering or acting clumsy.

"You'd tell her about the books you read. And give her a three hour long lecture."

"Yes, well, if she's interested and-"

"-Like you did in the weather station with me."

"I would not! Well, she wouldn't just throw my special, favorite magic marker away!" Richard accused angrily. That still hurt!

"I think she would. Every sane woman would throw something when you put them through that."

"You're wrong there. No one throws things like you do. That's a rather childish behavior, specific to you." He told her sternly.

"Maybe you need that." Camille proposed.

"Need what?"

"You need a woman like that, who throws things and interrupts your long, boring rants. Because let's face it, they can be very dragging and tedious."

"You are just an impatient woman. It's your French nature." He snapped.

"So you'd want a woman who listens to your hour long rants? Would you ever listen to her?"

"Of course!" He said shocked. "I would want to know everything about her."

"You would? Why? You don't like emotions and stuff like that." She asked surprised.

"No but I..." He looked at her... "I've come to learn that... I quite like... Having..."Richard almost choked on his own thoughts and swallowed them. Pushed them away. "...Friends around." He finished awkwardly.

"O mon Dieu. Did we crack your shell? You'd miss us when we're not there? Always grumpy when we came to your shack but secretly starting to love it?" Camille smirked contently.

"Yes." He just answered as he stared at her.

00000000000000

I already have the next chapter finished so I won't wait too long with posting this time! What did you think?