As per usual:
Alfendi is in bold.
Lucy is in italics.
"Hello?"
"Happy birthday Prof!"
"Ah. It's you. Baker, you're way too loud for nine am in the morning."
"But it's your birthday, isn't it?"
"I'm well aware of what day it is. I don't need it to be advertised. For everyone else, it's merely Tuesday."
"Humph. You don't gotta be a Debbie Downer, Prof. It's your birthday! The big three-zero! Do you have anything planned?"
"What, pray tell, do you think I have planned in a rehab center? They won't even allow me the mercy of having visitors."
"Well, I'm sure you'll think of summat to keep ya occupied."
"Save for the book you gave me, I'm not sure what left I can occupy my time with."
"Ee..."
"No, Lucy, I'm not going to occupy myself with drugs."
"...Good."
"..."
"..."
"Lucy? Is something wrong? Normally you have something to say."
"Nothin', Prof. Nothin'. Just thinking of summat important. 'ey, I gotta go real quick."
"Why did you call if you were only going to end it so abruptly?"
"It's a surprise, Prof!"
"Like your other odd surprises?"
"Oi! They're not odd! You liked the book, didn't ya? That's just part one of my birthday gifts! You could even count that first phone call as one too."
"...Part one? You didn't even know when my birthday was prior to me regaling it to you."
"That may be true, but it still can be part one. I really have to go now, Prof."
"Go...where?"
"I'll tell you later. See you!"
"Lucy-"
Alfendi glared daggers into the wall as the familiar tone of the phone went through the other end as Lucy ended the call. He let out a low sigh, allowing the phone back into its cradle. He had to admit-this was such a dreary way to celebrate turning thirty, with only Lucy's phone call really bringing any delight, albeit brief. White walls, doctors with smiles that were as irritating as most of the wannabe smooth criminals he had locked up, focus groups that he could hardly enjoy, and the abysmal food?
It was hardly something to celebrate.
It wasn't that he enjoyed his birthdays-if anything, he could truly care less. Most of them in his childhood were brief-his father was always out and about with Luke, perhaps sending a card while he was away on some puzzle adventure that he couldn't bare to miss. Katrielle was of similar nature, but took their adopted father's long periods of absence to be a gruelling test with only the reward of seeing him again as the only incentive to sit and busy themselves with puzzles. His birthdays as an adult in university or in the Yard were hardly any better-Hilda made sure he at least spent it with someone, but another age really didn't mean anything to him. It was only until he used cocaine on his birthday did he feel alive and actually willing to celebrate it. Safe to say, he made sure he had a good amount of cocaine during those dreadful celebrations after that.
He wasn't sure how long he was standing there, burning holes into the white walls until he heard someone's voice call him. He considered ignoring it before the voice grew insistent.
"Alfendi?" The voice tried again and he snapped his head up to the voice and found warm green eyes looking back at him with an aloof expression. Sam, one of the nurses that he somewhat tolerated. It wasn't that Sam was anything particularly special-he found Alfendi's story unfortunate, but did not seek to offer pity and instead treated him normally. Besides, Sam was the one that made sure all his letters to Lucy got into the post in time. He was an ally Alfendi couldn't bare to lose.
"What?" At the sharpness of his tone, he cleared his throat and tried again, "Yes, Sam?"
"Come on, let's go. You've been starin' into that wall for way too long. You got yourself a visitor." Sam said, motioning for the door. Alfendi raised an eyebrow.
"I thought I wasn't allowed visitors?"
"Well, this visitor of yours has been very persistent. Calling everyday, trying to do anything for it. Doctor Merton gave it some thought and let you after consulting your father. It's your birthday, afterall." Sam shrugged, clasping his hand on Alfendi's shoulder and pushing him forward. Alfendi stumbled at the sudden force. "Come on. We don't want to keep her waiting."
"Her?" He already felt the excitement bubbling in his chest, but tampered it down as much as he could force it. It wouldn't do to be excited—he learned that lesson long ago. Just because it was possible it could be who he thought, it didn't mean that he should be the type to hope. It could be Florence. It could be his sister (even as uncharacteristic as that may be). It could be anyone, not necessarily the woman he wanted to see face-to-face since the fourth letter. It was one thing to put a voice to the words-it was a whole other thing to put a face to it. He had felt that it would be too forward to request a picture of a woman he only knew for a few months, so he remained in the dark of what his letter sender looked like.
"Oh, yeah. You know her." Sam smiled slyly, saying nothing more and leading him away. Rather than opting for the open area where most visitors and patients were put in, he led Alfendi into his doctor's office. Sam opened the door, ushering him in. Alfendi opened his mouth to protest, looking to Sam, only to have a warm body pressed against him, hugging him aggressively. He was bombarded with the warm scent of cinnamon and cupcakes and the sight of an orange cap. He let his arms remain awkwardly outward, unsure how to react. He settled for keeping them away from her body and let the woman extrude her affections, even though he was already trembling with anticipation. Sam smirked, turning around and leaving them be with the closing of the door behind him. The body that was holding him let him go, revealing who he could only assume to be the his salvation and sender of the letters—Lucy Baker.
The one person he was desperate to see, yet also ever so dreading it.
"Lucy." He breathed out, mouth agape in surprise. As she had expressed in her letters, her description was apt. A young woman with short ginger hair, red eyes that were somewhat daunting yet all he could see was the way the light made it seem like her eyes were scintillating with small stars. She wore what she had considered in her letters as her 'signature look;' a grass green coat and white pants, complemented by the Scotland Yard badge that rested on her hip. He was never one to wear his own badge in clear view, but he had to admit, it was a sight for sore eyes. Her appearance wasn't necessarily exactly what he had expected, but nevertheless she was...well, she was Lucy.
"'ey, Prof!" She winked at him, bringing him back from his examination. "Took me awhile to get this to 'appen, but here we are. I'm not that good at surprises, eh?"
"How?" He managed to utter, blinking. Lucy poked his cheek, causing an automatic scowl to grace his features. Lucy only laughed, shaking her head as she stepped away.
"A lot of pestering and a conversation with your father." She explained, grinning as though she had won the lottery. "Flo woulda been 'ere too, but ah, she had summat to do at the Yard. So it's just me, I'm afraid."
"You spoke with my father?"
"Aye. He was the picture-perfect description of gentlemanly like the last time. Didn't raise his voice at me or anything when I started making demands for ya. He doesn't hate me for that thing I said. Actually said that it made sense and er...well, I begged him to let me celebrate your birthday with ya since I feared you wouldn't 'ave anyone wit ya today." She scratched the back of her head, all the elation finally seeping out of her and leaving a deep set look of mirth with a tinge of sheepishness. "So...yeah. Is this a bit creepy? I didn't think about how you'd react. Um..."
"No, no, it's a kind gesture. I'm pleasantly surprised, given the circumstances." He cleared his throat, trying to gain a bit of repose from the rush of delight from seeing someone new that wasn't a medical professional or some other rehab patient. It wouldn't do to scare her away-not like this. Just because they had been scratching the surface of friendship towards each other in the past three or so months did not mean she had any obligation to remain in his favor. If anything, this meeting was his true first impression. Everything, much his dismay, rode on this alone. It was a mere unfortunate circumstance that he didn't have any sort of substance to save him. "Though I must say that yes, your skills in regards to making surprises could use some work."
Rather than commenting on his light jab (save for an eye roll), she took him by his dark blue jumper sleeve and led him over to the doctor's desk, which contained two big boxes that Alfendi easily recognized from the bakery he used to frequent back when he still had a title and independence from any substance.
"Jenny's." He uttered quietly, his mouth already watering at the mere prospect of being able to eat such a luxury. "You got me Jenny's."
"That's right! Part two of your surprise. Told Jenny that it was your birthday and I needed one of every cupcake she had. Safe to say, she was more than willing." Removing the ribbon, Lucy opened the box to reveal exactly what he expected: an assortment of different cupcakes, some he recognized to some degree and others he did not. Lucy opened the other with equal speed, revealing even more flavours that he had no previous knowledge of. "And no, no drugs in any of them. The folks at the front had to check and everythin'."
"The only drug within this is powdered sugar at best, Baker. One could argue that the ridiculous amount of sucrose within each cupcake could be a drug on its own." He scanned each one, trying to determine what flavours each could be. Confetti, marble cake, triple chocolate chip, blueberry and raspberry...
"Ee, Prof, you spout that info, they'll take these away from ya." Lucy sniped, carding a hand through her hair absentmindedly. "Now choose one. I've got one more surprise, if you let me."
"I take it that you've tried every flavour here already?" He inquired, opting to pick up the middle one that had a bit of white cream cheese frosting atop it. At the sight, Lucy giggled and he stopped the cupcake's trip to his mouth, the frosting atop the confection leaving its mark on his nose. "What?"
"Out of all the ones you choose, that's the one you go for? Unbelievable." She reached up close and wiped the frosting off without a second thought, wiping her finger with a tissue. "It's a good cupcake, don't get me wrong. Just ironic given what you told me before."
"What did I tell you?" He racks his brain for any sort of indication but comes up empty.
"That you hated carrot cake." At the mere mention, he almost dropped the offending cupcake. "Blimey, Prof, it's just carrot cake. Give it a try."
"Baker, I really don't think..."
"Try it." She urged, pushing the cupcake into his open mouth before he could protest any longer. The cream cheese frosting hits his tongue first, the mild sweetness-Jenny had her own strange formula that made a normally sweet concoction light in it's saccharine nature-then the carrot flavour afterwards. His initial reaction, had it been any other carrot cake, would have been to spit it out and wash his mouth out. Rather, this carrot cake was soft, fluffy, moist, and more importantly: delicious. Before he even knew it, the entire cupcake was gone, leaving him with an immense desire for more. "Well?"
"I...It was very satisfactory." Lucy cracked a smile at that, grabbing one last box and handing it to him. It was heavier than he initially expected and set it down on the free space of the desk-well, what was left of the free space that didn't have papers or cupcake boxes. "What is this?"
"One final surprise. You're still technically employed by the Yard, even though you're not physically there or necessarily on their payroll at the moment so I thought you might enjoy solving some cases when you get bored of writing to me." Lucy explained, opening the lid. There were stacks of different cases, all in the familiar manila envelopes that they used to be in. He picked one up, flipping through it carefully. Some of these could certainly last him months on end, offering ample amusement as she had mentioned. "I had to ask the Commissioner about this one, though he didn't seem to mind. Cold cases are cold cases, after all. Maybe you'll figure somethin' out."
Silence blanketed the two, with Lucy seeking a sense of approval from him under a tight smile and all he could do was look up and stare back, all the words sucked out of his throat. A large part of him felt as though this was some drug induced dream in his rehab room, that he had somehow found more cocaine and the drug allowed him to imagine Lucy actually choosing to spend her day with him. Perhaps he overdosed again, this time having less luck than last time and was in a coma or even dead. It wouldn't be that bad if it meant having the person of his unbridled thoughts standing in front of him. He closed the box containing the case files and put it down on the floor. She watched him with the same intensity one would expect from a detective-eyes hardly faltering, analyzing every movement as though it could bring some sort of answer.
"Why are you here, Lucy?" His mouth chose to say, causing her to furrow her brow. That wasn't what he wanted to say. Inside, he panicked-she certainly could take that the wrong way. He attempted to mend it, "What I mean to say is that there are other things you could be doing. I'm sure Barton wouldn't approve you skimping off to..." 'a drug user, a fallen inspector, a failure' were among the things what he wanted to say. She raised her eyebrows expectantly and he instead opted for, "To me."
"I told you already why I'm here, Prof. I'm here to celebrate your birthday. I already talked to the Commissioner a week before this-there was no trouble at all." She responded softly, lacking any sense of malice that would have been expected from most. If anything, it was the softness of a parent telling their child a hard truth. "You deserve to celebrate your birthday with someone, regardless of where you are."
"But all this effort-"
"Is deserved, Prof." She finished for him, crossing her arms. She certainly wasn't going to let up anymore. "I read up on you, you know. You're a wonderful Detective Chief Inspector; put so many people behind bars. You just hit a bad bump-er, I didn't mean that line." To his surprise and her own, he let out a bark of laughter at that. How ridiculous this whole thing was truly struck him. One good thing finally came to him and he was doubting her sincerity and truth.
"You're not going anywhere, are you?" He finally asked after a beat had passed. The question itself was unnecessary-she had no need to prove herself. What she had done for him was enough to prove she wasn't going anywhere. Nevertheless, he felt this impulsive need to have it said in words, directly rather than in passing in some letter or phone call. She tentatively grabbed his hand into his, eying him carefully. He didn't make any effort to wrench it back, rather finding warmth in the way it felt in his, as though it belonged there.
"Aye, I'm not."
