A Rite of Passage

Genre: Family, Humour, FUTURE FIC

Pairings: Greg and Molly, John and Josie, background

Main characters: Greg, Adult Greer

DCI Greg Lestrade stormed into the A&E, warrant card in hand.

"Detective Chief Inspector Greg Lestrade," he said, identifying himself and flashing his warrant card. "I believe you have a patient here who not only falls under my authority with the Met, but is also my daughter," he said, curtly.

The nurse at the nursing station hardly blinked. This stormy DCI was hardly the first boss she'd had come in when an incident had brought a young copper in for emergency treatment.

It was rare, however, that the boss was also a parent of the patient.

"Right," she said calmly. "Chief Inspector Lestrade, your girl is this way. Be warned," she said knowingly, "she's protesting quite colourfully to hell and back that it's only a flesh wound and we're being ridiculous sodding dolts for keeping her here."

Greg suppressed a smile at the seasoned nurse. "Her words?"

The nurse met Greg's eyes briefly and rose an eyebrow. "Mine. Softened quite a lot. Hers are a bit more..."

This time, Greg did let a snort through. "A bit more Greer. She suffers no fool gladly, it's what makes her a capital copper, and a right huge pain in the ass on duty, and my daughter through and through."

"Well then," the nurse said with a crooked grin. "Remind me never to piss either of you off should either of you wind up under my watch again. She's right in here," she said, opening a door and gesturing with her arm.

"Thank you, Nurse…" Greg said, checking her uniform pin, "Vertue."

Greg stopped, giving her an amused look.

"Really?"

Nurse Vertue merely smiled. "Really. It's an irony I must live with every single day, I'm afraid. I'll not tell you what my first name is," she said.

"It's bloody PATIENCE," Greer shouted, clearly pissed off. "Which I have precious little of left, thank you very sodding MUCH!"

"Tell me that's pain medication talking?" Greg asked, hopefully.

"Nope," Nurse Vertue said. "Patience Vertue. That's my name. My parents ought to have been tarred and feathered for that," she said bitterly, as she left father and daughter by themselves, her parting words a simple, "your girl stoutly refused pain meds. That's her in the raw. Good luck Chief Inspector, though I suspect by the looks of you, she takes after you so you won't be needing it."

Greg smiled after the departing nurse, only briefly reaching out to grasp her arm in acknowleged gratitude, before slowly turning his gaze upon his daughter.

"So, you've been stabbed in the line of duty, I'm told."

"Ruined my favourite work blouse too, the minky feckin' bastard," Greer pouted angrily. "At least he's been arrested and charged."

Greg checked his texts. "Yes. Arrested for aggravated assault of a peace officer, after, it seems, he was tackled by a Detective Constable with a massive grudge resulting from a deep stab wound."

"The son of a bitch had it coming," Greer said, wincing. "Might I speak freely, Sir?"

"Well I'm fairly certain you have already, Little Love, but I'm not here as your superior just now. I'm here as your Dad," Greg said quietly.

"It's really not that bad, Daddy," Greer said, sighing. "Honestly, it's just superficial. I'm just disappointed in myself, is all. I know I'm only a Detective Constable, but I've still come a bloody long way in a shorter time than average."

"Greer, Little Love, there is NO such thing as ONLY a Detective Constable. That rank holds a lot of accomplishment and hard work behind it. It also means you've been judged to have exceptional investigative skills and you've proven it by passing the courses to achieve it. It's nothing to brush off just because you're pissed off that a suspect had the upper hand only JUST long enough to wound you."

"It isn't just that, Dad. It's that… well not only did I let myself get wounded, but I lost control. I tackled the feckin' wanker and it was pure adrenaline. I'm not a rookie uniform anymore, I'm better than that, I bloody well KNOW it."

Greg let a few silent moments pass by, before finally speaking.

"Do you remember when you were around 12 years old, and we went on vacation to Canada?"

"Yeah," Greer said. "Saskatchewan, it was. Still can hardly pronounce it but oh, Daddy, it was gorgeous. More trees in that northern half of the province than the whole of England even knows, I'm sure. What did they call it, Dad?"

"Lake and bush country, I believe was the local phrasing. The southern edge of the Boreal region, forests, and lakes, and wide open spaces, and we were there just in time to see those glorious sunflower yellow fields of canola in full bloom that your mum fell in love with the sight of."

"Yeah," she said, wistfully. "She called it earthbound sunshine. I'd love to go back again someday. Maybe when Sam and I are on honeymoon."

Greg paused at this, wincing at the idea of his little girl a married woman. Quickly, he brushed it off.

"Anyway, Little Love," Greg said, "we were at that lake resort… what was it called?"

"Moonlight Bay, I believe, Dad," Greer said, thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that was it. Moonlight Bay. Anyway, you noticed a scar on my side at the beach and you questioned it. And that's when I told you that sometimes a copper faces peril on the job, and that was from a day when I faced it, and survived it. Believe me, I was just as pissy as you are now when that happened. I was all adrenaline and ego and attitude that day."

Greer pouted momentarily. "And I'm all adrenaline and ego and attitude right now?"

"Well," Greg said casually, "I'm not in your head so I'm not to judge where you're coming from, Greer. But I'd say, that's a closely accurate assessment."

"Hurts like a bitch, Daddy," Greer said, as Greg wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him for comfort.

"Yeah, I've no doubt it does, Little Love. The important thing is, you need to realize that we might have worked our asses off to get to where we are, we may have achieved ranks that not every average copper is cut out for, but we are still human, with human failings, and human tempers."

"And human frailties. I understand Daddy. I'll be better next time, won't I," she said, not really asking.

"Don't rightly know. I hope so, but time will tell."

"Yeah, I guess it will," Greer said. "So, it's Saturday. Mum has dinner handled?"

"If you've appetite for it, yeah. I believe John will have Josie there as well."

Greer smiled at this. "About bloody time he had that girl over for dinner," she said, before she winced with pain. "Oh sod it Daddy…" she muttered as her breath was taken away. "Seems my adrenaline is wearing off, oh this bloody hurts."

Greg said nothing, knowing this was merely a rite of passage for his daughter. He'd endured it. So had Kieran, and Julian, and now it was Greer's turn.

"You're alright, my girl," Greg whispered reassuringly. "Give yourself a few days and you'll be back to yourself. God help us all," he said.

Greer frowned, then gave her dad a sharp elbow to the ribs.

"Smartass," she muttered, even as she smiled. "With all due respect Daddy Sir, of course."

"Of course," Greg grinned.