Another day in paradise/ jelly babies and suchlike ;)

Richard sighed and mopped his head with a soaking hanky, for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

Saint Marie was bad at all times of the year, but it was currently the height of summer, and even locals like Camille had had to admit to the extremity of the heat.

It was Monday, and after a weekend of wearing chinos and short sleeved shirts (not that he'd ever admit to the ownership of the latter to Camille) Richard was feeling the disadvantages of his woollen suits. He could already feel the sweat pooling on the back of his neck, and it was only 10am.

"Have we fixed the fan yet Dwayne?" he asked, practically tearing his jacket off.

"Sorry sir. Guy said he'd be here on Thursday."

The older officer grimaced as Richard aggressively brought his fists down on his desk, the result being a rather loud crash that resounded throughout the station.

"And where IS Camille?" Richard was shouting in his frustration now. "She didn't pick me up this morning and I had to walk all of the bloody 2 miles to the station in this suit, and that was NOT FUN! DETECTIVE SEARGENTS CANNOT BE LATE TO WORK. DETECTIVE SEARGENTS AREN'T LATE TO WORK! IT'S ONLY ON THIS BLOODY CARIBBEAN ISLAND THAT DETECTIVE SEARGENTS CAN GET AWAY WITH BEING LATE TO WORK! THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN ENGLAND!"

His extreme rant was interrupted by the arrival of Camille.

" Hello Sir," Camille's face could barely be seen behind the pile of official-looking documents she was holding.

" Hey Searg, want some help?" Dwayne approached Camille, and helped her with the burden she was clutching - with difficulty - against her chest.

"Thanks Dwayne." Camille smiled gratefully, as the heap was plonked onto her desk.

Richard couldn't help observing at this scene with resent. Shouldn't he have offered to help? And what had she even been doing? He could've helped with that too...

"Why didn't you pick me up this morning Camille?" was all that came out of his mouth.

Camille's reaction was exactly what he'd expected - and what was reasonable: an expression of disappointment flitted across her face, before defiance resumed its usual position upon her jaw.

"I went to the library and did some extra research for our case, Sir."

This last "sir" was undoubtedly said with a little contempt. Richard picked up on her carefully veiled distress and grunted in response.

Camille glared at him through narrowed eyes.

"Do English detective seargents do extra work after hours?" Dwayne asked casually.

Richard knew he was defeated.

"Er Sir," Fidel looked up from his desk, satisfaction that was almost glee lighting up his eyes, "You might want to have a look at this."

Richard and Camille shared a glance, their argument forgotten. They went over to Fidel, Dwayne close behind them.

"Gunshot residue report. They've confirmed that Hetty did not fire the gun Sir." Fidel grinned round at the group. "And look who had traces of the stuff on their clothes..."

Camille raised her eyebrows and glanced at Richard, who was doing the same thing.

"Right. Good job Fidel, very well done," he said, moving over to the whiteboard, "Dwayne, Fidel, gather all the suspects at Hill View Manor for 11.30."

The two officers nodded, and with respective replies of "Chief" and "Sir" they headed out of the station.

"Why though. That's the question..." Richard paced around the station, mumbling inaudibly, his head in the hanky.

"When I was busy working after hours this morning, Sir," Camille glared at Richard again, before continuing, "I found these newspaper extracts. You might want to see this particular article..."

It was midday. Dwayne and Fidel had gone on their daily lunchtime check, and Richard and Camille were at the station.

Another case had been solved; more paperwork had to be completed.

Richard got up, the sound alerting Camille.

He went over to the little fridge in the corner of the station and got a bottle of chilled water.

"Want one?"

Camille shook her head, but sat back against her chair and put her legs up onto her desk.

Richard groaned.

He couldn't help it.

It was simply torture, having Camille turn up to work in shorts that were detrimental to his reputation.

Richard was adamant that nobody knew the struggles he faced when getting out of bed in the morning in preparation to work.

He tried his absolute best to ensure that his inner (totally and completely unprofessional) feelings for his Detective Seargent were hidden.

Little did he realise what a good job he did...

At the Honore police station, it took all his self control and a significant amount of restraint to keep his head down in his work, but he managed it, no matter what.

That night at the weather station, though. It had been perfect - paradise, even.

And he'd been almost convinced that his feelings were reciprocated.

She'd said that she 'quite liked' his personality, and that had to count for something, didn't it?

Richard stopped in his tracks. He was at the station, and remembering the night at the weather station - as he knew from experience - usually led to things that couldn't be thought about at work.

"Sir?" Camille sounded almost concerned.

"Er right, yes. Um.. How's that report going Camille?"

The lady in question gave Richard a look which quite clearly showed she was unconvinced by his display.

Richard, forgetting that Camille had declined the offer, placed a bottle of water on his DS's desk.

To her credit, Camille said nothing and watched as her boss sat down at his desk and pressed his own bottle to his neck.

Richard reached into the top left drawer and fumbled around for the little tin that contained a large assortment of jellybabies.

He took off the lid, only to be met with the sight of metal - he'd forgotten to restock. He groaned again. Jellybabies and the blessed fridge were the only things that got him to survive in this blasted heat.

Camille let out a snort - indicating that she knew what had happened, and found it entertaining.

He glared at her and then turned back to his computer, in a huff. She didn't understand. The French probably didn't eat jellybabies - loonies. Suddenly, he heard a peculiar sound... A rustly, crinkly noise, much like that of a packet-

"I bought you a present."

She'd somehow made her way over to his desk, and was now perched on it, smirking. Between her index finger and thumb she held a lurid purple packet, adorned with the words 'Jelly Babies', in a childishly garish font.

He had to forcibly prevent a beam from stretching across his face - she'd managed to get his favourite brand! Gah she was just perfec-

Richard's train of thought came to an abrupt halt, as he looked at Camille. She appeared to be trying to tear open the packet with her fingers, eyes almost crossed in her concentration.

"How do you open these..?" she murmured absently, bringing the jelly babies towards her mout-

"-Nu-uh-uh!" Richard hastily seized his beloved sweets from her fingertips. Reprimanding her with raised eyebrows, he bent down to rummage in one of his desk drawers, to reappear brandishing a pair of slightly battered scissors. He then proceeded to cut open the jelly baby packet. He then tipped the contents onto a sheet of paper on his desk.

"What are you doing?" Her tone was skeptical, to say the least.

"Ah, Camille, you have to see how many of each colour you have."

Camille squinted, as her boss sorted the sweets into rows ordered by colour. It was amusing when you considered it properly - a grown man, immaculately dressed (if sweating, slightly) in a dark grey suit arranging jelly babies in a police station on a Caribbean island. Camille chuckled.

"And that-" Richard paused, oblivious to her thoughts, straightening a green jelly baby "-is all of them."

"D'accord so what do we do now?"

"Nous mangez, Camille. Nous mangez."

"Tu parles Francais? Wrong verb form, but I am impressed!"

Richard merely shrugged, occupied by the sweets. "Which would you like?"

"Mmmm. That one," she pointed to the only purple sweet on the paper.

Of all the ones she could've chosen, she had to pick that one.. "I wanted that one!"

Their eyes met and clearly they both thought the same thing, for within seconds Richard found his hand on top of Camille's, who's fingers had already closed around the jelly baby.

Camille whipped her clenched fist away and placed the purple jelly baby between her teeth tauntingly.

"Give me that!" Richard said furiously.

Camille smirked and leaned in towards him, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes innocently.

She grabbed a pen and wrote on the sheet of paper where the jelly babies were laid out neatly.

Come and get it ;)