S2 E7 - Just Looking at Him

Part 2 of 2

He continues as if a woman-statue is completely normal, "Of course, you don't stare at anyone here at work, do you? That would be totally unprofessional and a waste of your talents. Am I right, sergeant?"

Her head is bobbing, "Oh, yes, sir. Totally, sir. Absolutely." He gives her a few moments to say more but her tongue is glued to the roof of her mouth and she still can't look at him.

He begins to turn away then turns back as if something has just occurred to him, "Unless… of course… the object of your attentions welcomes your attentions. That would be a completely different scenario, don't you think?" There is another long pause as he waits for her response. None comes. He sighs, "In which case, I think it would be a tragic waste of your OTHER talents." He waits again. She still isn't responding. He shrugs and turns away.

Her tongue unsticks all by itself, "My other talents? What do you mean?" She almost claps a hand over her mouth but makes do with biting her lip instead, wishing she could take back the question. This kind of discussion is SO out of his comfort-zone that she can't believe he's even attempting it!

He turns back to her, "I mean I miss your friendly manner, our shared glances and amused reactions to things we notice together. That's what Amber meant, wasn't it?" Camille nods, not daring even now to look at him. "She liked being in the room with Leo, watching him, just being with him, didn't she?"

Camille closes her eyes and nods again, dreading what is coming next. She should have known he'd figure it out. How could she have doubted him?

He almost whispers, "Well, she isn't alone in that regard. I like being in a room with you. What does that say about me?"

Silence falls in the big room.

Camille is thinking furiously. Is he saying…? Could he possibly mean…? She looks up finally. He is watching her, hands clasped in front of himself, head slightly cocked, letting her decide.

Can he be that sure of himself, she wonders? Is it possible he sees right through me? Then she sees the slight tremble in his hands, the veiled look in his eye, and realization strikes! No, he isn't sure at all! This must be a huge gamble for him to even attempt. How long has he been getting up the nerve to say something? To DO something? Oh, Richard! I see you! I see you clearly! Do you see me? Finally?

She nods solemnly and he tightens up even further. "You're right," she agrees. "Amber said all that. It struck home pretty hard. I didn't realize it but… I DO watch you, don't I? I do it so much that you noticed right away when I tried to stop, didn't you?" Now it is his turn to nod, his hands stilling, his gaze sharpening. She laughs quietly, "You're too good a detective to miss something so glaring, aren't you? I don't know why I even tried to fool you. I really don't."

He huffs a pleased laugh, "Oh, I'm not THAT good. It was the little hearts you doodled in the margins of your notes that gave me the final hint."

She jerks upright in her chair, stares at him in dismay, hand over her mouth, "I DIDN'T! Oh, please tell me I didn't! Oh, Richard."

He nods, smiling at her reaction, "Oh, but you did. Care to see?" He turns the file to face her, steps behind her chair, and reaches over her shoulder to open the folder. As she leans down to look, a gentle kiss is pressed onto the back of her neck. It shoots an electric charge down to her toes and she almost crashes into him as she throws herself back upright without thought.

He's easily dodged her startled reaction and murmurs, "Oh, dear, my mistake, there are no hearts here at all. Hmmm, perhaps the hearts are doodled on MY notes. Shall I check?" He closes the folder from behind her shoulder, picks it up. So close. She can feel his body heat sinking in.

She twists in her chair to face him and suddenly his shoulders fill her world, so wide and sturdy and right there! "No, that won't be necessary," she rasps, "Those hearts are doodled somewhere… and if they're NOT, they will be, very soon now." He glances down. She follows his gaze to see her hands are gripping her chair arms with white knuckles. Their eyes meet and they enjoy their first shared moment in over a week. It feels wonderful.

His gaze grows intent, the green deepening and beginning to whirl. "Tonight?" he whispers.

"Right here and right now, if you want," she growls.

He slowly stands up, "Now, Camille, you know VERY well such actions would contravene several sections of the Policing Manual as well as incite riots in the street, the break-up of the fabric of society, and perhaps even cause the end of the world as we know it."

"So… that's a 'no'?" is her plaintive lament.

He smiles small, "No, that's a 'not here'. Surely there's a difference?"

She perks up, "By 'not here' do you mean 'somewhere else'? And by 'tonight' do you mean...?"

"Well now, since you haven't broken the peace, my nose, or my arm… I'm taking this as a positive sign of your acceptance of my attentions to your attentions. Am I correct in this interpretation?"

"Does that translate into 'your place or mine'? 'Cause if it does then the answer is YES! Will 'drinks' be involved? Shall we be vedy vedy civilized until all hell breaks loose and we disrupt the peace all over the place?" She is purring now, enjoying the firm grip he has on her libido.

He colours slightly, holds her mad gaze, "Oh, yes, there will be riots and mayhem… but not here."

She takes a deep breath, "No. Not here. OK. Tonight. Where?"

He holds her eyes for a long moment then whispers, "I'll toss you for it."

That's when Dwayne and Fidel come in to find their superior officers locked in yet another silent battle of wills. The two men race to their desks, hoping once more that today's fight doesn't escalate to breaking crockery and strewn office implements. Boy, they think as they both hunker down, if looks could kill!

END