S2 E8 – The Offer

The young man, a boy really, jitters nervously in front of her. She cocks her head and listens with half an ear. She has a lot on her mind and quite a 'to do' list to get through. Richard will be waiting for her report and she needs to check on the other officers and… What is this kid wittering on about?

"Can I take you for a drink?" the boy blurts out.

Her head comes up with a jerk… what? What?!

He rushes on, "I know this wicked beach bar!"

She looks at him in dismay. What on EARTH does this kid think I'm doing - hanging around with cops because I'm bored? A traitorous thought surfaces, Yeah, bored. Is THAT what I'm feeling? She squashes the thought. HARD. She can't afford to let this little internal voice talk while she's on the job. It always veers off into forbidden territory and THAT always led to trouble! Her habitual training takes over. She refuses nicely and turns away.

But the kid comes right back at her, eager, puppy-dog, grinning, "Got a boyfriend?"

She can't help but smile at THAT. Yeah, right. Boyfriend! Had HE ever been just a boy? Even when he WAS just a boy? She has a sudden vision of introducing him to people. Hi, I'm Camille Bordey and THIS is my BOYFRIEND. Say Hi to the nice people, Richard! She shudders to think what awful thing would come out of his mouth, something insulting or pedantic. Maybe an explanation of how he is NOT a boy and MOST definitely not her friend! Yeah, I can see THAT date going well, she scoffs.

She explains the facts of life to the young man and he STILL chases after her, hopeful of hooking up later! She chuffs a scoffing laugh. She has to give him credit. With his long silky hair, ready smile, easy ways, and green green eyes (sigh), he probably hasn't had too many failures with women.

Young women.

Girls.

But this time he is reaching wwwaaaaay above himself.

Camille Bordey is no longer interested in ordinary men.

Oh, kid, she sighs as she finally leaves him behind, you don't know what you're trying to get yourself into with me! Romance isn't just drinks and dancing and kisses in the moonlight! Maybe it is when you're young. REAL young. Maybe it is before Life kicks the s#!^ out of your heart a few times, before things get complicated beyond all understanding, tangled in knots, and totally the dark side of the moon.

Nevertheless, the mere thought of the boy's offer makes her smile and puts a little extra bounce in her step. She's almost forgotten how wonderful it feels to have such power over men, to have a nice man (even one so young) show such interest. It's been a LONG time. Rather a drought, really. It feels good. She smiles once more, putting a little strut in her walk.

As she approaches Fidel at the truck, she scoffs to herself, And whatever you do, do NOT fall in love with someone so impossible and wonderful and infuriating and alluring and… but that's as far as she gets before the job takes over and she is a DS again. She gets through the day as best she can.

It is later that night when her feet are up and she is indulging in some chilled white wine that she lets herself think it over. Something about this case bothers her. A woman loves a man then finds out he isn't the man she thought he was. He keeps secrets. He does bad things... even crazy things! And the woman has to deal with the fallout. It's so unfair! She wonders about Richard. Hah! She is ALWAYS wondering about Richard! No, but seriously, she wonders about Richard.

Could she co-exist with him for even a day… let alone a week… a month… a year? Sometimes he is SO damn aggravating that it is all she can do to hold in the hot torrents of French invective! Those are the times she excuses herself and escapes out into the normal world, to ordinary people with ordinary lives in ordinary homes.

That's what she needs as an antidote to Richard Poole. And would it always work or would the day come when she just has to throttle him in self defense? She can see herself now, standing before the Court and telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…Yes, yer Honour! I just HAD to kill him! It was the only way to keep my sanity but now I'll go insane without him! Someone, please shoot me and put me out of my misery!

She shifts in her chair, thinking hard. Maybe if we live apart? Some couples do. Sort of a life-long date? That might work. Would he agree to it? Would he even notice? And I would want to be exclusive. Oh, yes! No sharing! Her Poole and no one else's! For THAT, I'd have to keep a very close eye on him. Not that I'm jealous. No, never that. Nor insecure! It's just that… just that… Well, OK! I don't trust him to know the difference between 'drinks' and 'DRINKS'! Nudge nudge wink wink say no more say no more!

She shakes her head, comes out of her funk, sets down her empty glass, and gets ready for bed. THIS is why she can't think about things like this on the job. Next thing she knows she is channeling British comedians and spouting complete gibberish! Oh, Richard, I'm losing my mind over you, she scoffs then sighs, and it feels SO good!

It is the next day, when she is helping to load not one, not two, but THREE perps in the back of the Defender that she finds herself saying, "I shoulda taken him up on his offer of drinks when I had the chance." She is VERY gratified to see Richard's head snap around. She gives him an innocent look.

"What's that, Sergeant?" he says through stiff lips.

She shrugs, lifts her eyebrows, "Oh, nothing. It's just that he asked me out for drinks yesterday and…"

His frosty glare baffles her, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Why? Why!" He is swelling inside his suit like a toad in a microwave oven, "Because protocol is VERY explicit about interaction with suspects, witnesses, and sundry! How DARE you even enter-TAIN the idea of meeting that young man for drinks!"

Fidel and Dwayne step smartly away from the truck, out of range and earshot. They roll their eyes to one another. God! Do they have to fight EVERY day?

Richard catches her by the elbow… and none too gently either… and marches her away from the truck with barely a modicum of manners. He looks madder than she's ever seen him.

When he releases her she wheels on him in fury, "How dare you accuse ME of misconduct? Might I remind you of a certain blue-eyed damsel in distress that totally turned YOUR head a year ago? Do I need to remind you of a more recent certain yellow bikini? Hmm?"

He went white as a sheet, his lips thinned down to a line, "Don't you DARE…"

She puts her hands on her hips and throws her head up and laughs, "Oh, YES? You can dish it out but you can't take it, hey? A nice young man… well, an accessory to murder but I didn't know that at the time, did I… a nice young man asks me out and I'M the bad guy?"

His eyes are blazing, "Yes, you ARE! You know better! You ARE better! You can't just…"

"I can't just what?" Her arms are crossed and she is thrumming with anger.

His anger seems to dissipate suddenly, "You can't just squander yourself on the undeserving. He's MUCH too young for you… and an idiot. The only thing he has going for him is…" His rapidly quietening voice peters out and she can't hear the rest of his words.

"His what? Speak up!"

Richard jerks and says low, "His… his… vitality."

She nods hugely and scoffs, "Oh, his vitality. You mean his sexual vitality, don't you?"

Now he looks ambushed, "No! Well, maybe, I don't know. How did we get onto THIS topic? I only wanted to remind you of your professional mien."

"My 'mien' is ALWAYS professional. I don't need YOU to tell me anything! And he's only 7 years younger than me! That's almost the same age difference between me and YOU. If those ten years don't bother me…" her anger snuffs out, "… why do they bother you?" she whispers.

His head snaps up, "What? What did you say?"

They lock eyes once more. He begins to take a step back but she catches his wrist and holds him, "All I'm saying is that age doesn't enter into it if two people are perfectly matched in manner and outlook and all the other ways we are so well suited."

He licks his lips, "Well suited? You think we… we are well suited?"

She nods, "Yes, I do. Don't you?" She lets his hand go.

He looks down at his wrist as if expecting to see a brand on his skin, "Well… I… I never really…" He takes a deep breath and looks back up to her, determined to be stoic in the face of threatening danger, "I never let myself think about such things. It's not allowed and so I must never…"

She crosses her arms and says quietly, "Not allowed by whom? It happens all the time. Cops can't mix easily with ordinary people. You know that. We ALL know that. Cops need other cops. Fidel has Juliet but there will be problems down the road for them, most likely." She steps closer and lowers her voice, "And, in the meantime, we each try to snatch whatever joy we can find, even if it's with an adolescent beach-bum with green eyes to die for."

HIS green eyes leap to her face in silent question. She smiles small, "Mmm-hmm, the green eyes are a real draw but I'm sure I'd be bored to tears within minutes unless he's hiding a scholar's mind somewhere under all that hair." Before he can think of a reply she leans in once more, "A big brain is SO sexy, don't you think?"

This time he does have something to say, "Not as sexy as being a dangerous beast and French and totally unpredictable!" He stutters in anger that somehow sounds like relief… and a question.

She regards him in surprise, "Oh? And who might THAT be?"

He actually stamps a foot, "YOU! You, Camille! How can you be so cruel? Dangling that boy in front of me as a threat then stabbing me through the heart so unexpectedly? I'm not trained to cope with this! I only know how to catch killers and solve puzzles and…"

She lays a hand on his trembling arm, "… and you are a VERY smart man! You can figure it out. You can learn and adapt and be the man I know you can be. If you try. If you want to, that is. "

Now they merely stand and look at one another, seeing each other in perhaps a different light. She isn't sure he will rise to her challenge… but she forgets who she is dealing with.

His lips part, "I do want to," he breathes before marching past her and going back to the truck.

She is left to whirl around and watch him walk away.

He climbs into the passenger's seat and simply sits and looks out the front window screen at her. He seems to be thinking furiously about something but he never takes his eyes off her.

She cocks her head to one side, looks back, and waits.

Finally, he beckons to her and smiles slightly.

Good enough for her! She goes to the truck. She leans on the open truck window beside him and whispers, "Are we gonna talk about this?"

His eyes flash to the mirror and he checks on the prisoners before looking back up to her, "Not now and perhaps not for many hours to come… but we WILL talk."

Very low, she purrs, "Promise?"

Very low, he growls, "Promise."

She stands up with alacrity, spins and strides to the driver's side of the truck, clapping her hands and calling to Dwayne and Fidel, "Come on, officers! Chop chop! Daylight's a'wasting and we have work to do!" She leaps behind the wheel and revs the engine hard, earning her a thoughtful look from the suit.

The men grin in relief and come on the run to pile into the middle seats. As they roll down the driveway, Dwayne leans forward over the Chief's seat back and says low, "So today's fight is over, is it?"

"Yes, Dwayne, it's over," the Chief assures him quietly. "We've reached a temporary truce and all will be well. All manner of things will be well."

"That's Shakespeare, isn't it?" Fidel asks, always alert to whatever his boss says.

The Chief shakes his head once, looking out his window, "Nope, Julian of Norwich, paraphrased, but The Bard had many other interesting sayings that could cover this situation as well."

"Oh?" Camille can't help saying, "Did he have anything to say about star-crossed lovers?"

Richard finally looks right at her, "Oh, indeed. Perhaps later, I'll recite some things for you."

She looks back out her window, concentrating on the road, and shivers. Somehow, she never thought she would ever look forward to a poetry recital. Looking back at him, catching his eye, seeing the sharp curl of lip exposing one canine, she is suddenly VERY eager to hear whatever he has to say.

Very eager indeed.

END