Camille turned up early. Of course she turned up early, catching him in his pyjamas seemed like her mission in life sometimes. When he had been back in the UK, he briefly considered buying her a pair as a joke. He didn't, because he was afraid something more might be implied by the gift. Richard sent her out on to the veranda with a cup of coffee whilst he went to shower and dress.
He ran into a slight issue in the dressing department when he opened a draw to find all of his ties goes. Every single one of them. Since nothing else in the whole place was missing, there was really only one explanation. He doubted any normal thief would have such selective taste.
"Camille!" He said, storming onto the porch where she sat attempting to look innocent. "Did you steal and hide all of my ties?"
To her credit, she didn't bother trying to deny it, "I would prefer to refer to it as an intervention. I am concerned you may have developed some sort of addition."
"I am NOT addicted to wearing ties! That is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said and a poor excuse for your, quite frankly, childish behaviour!" He spluttered. "Besides, who says I was even going to wear a tie?" He hadn't 100% decided he would.
"Well, if you weren't, what were you doing in your tie draw, hmm?"
He'd painted himself into a corner there. "Sometimes I keep socks in there," he told her – though that was only true if he opened the wrong draw and didn't notice he was putting his socks away in the wrong place. "Look, this is not the point, give me the ties back!"
She put her mug of coffee down and stood to face him, "Oh come on, Richard, I thought we agreed we were going to be tourists today, and have some fun! Wearing a tie is hardly conducive to that!"
"Actually, what I agreed was to go on an informative boat trip concerning the local marine biodiversity." He told her and then continued before she could roll her eyes at him, "Which, by the way, I do think is fun!"
She gave a small sigh, "Fine, well, is it really necessary for you to wear a tie on our informative marine…something boat trip?"
"Biodiversity." He corrected, and then conceded, "And no, technically it isn't, but-"
"Excellent!" She cried, cutting him off. "Shall we go?" She pulled on his arm, but he stood his ground. "I will give you your ties back at the end of the day," she promised, albeit with a small huff. It was the only victory he was likely to get, so he grabbed his jacket (ignoring the eye roll from Camille) and followed her.
It was a constant source of amazement to Camille, the amount of information Richard Poole had stored up in his brain. She assumed it arose from the fact he was very well read, had an excellent memory and did not get out enough. But the sheer diversity of things he knew about: history, chemistry, law (obviously) and, apparently, marine biology. It was unbelievable he could know all this, yet he lacked knowledge about basic psychology, belief systems and human interactions.
Camille had long ago stopped trying to follow the conversation going on between Richard and the PhD student who was currently helping out the marine reserve staff in return for being allowed to carry out his project there. She would much rather listen to the talk being given by the professional guide, which was full of interesting facts and referred to species by the more accessible common names rather than the Latin that Richard the boy – Keenan she thought his name was – were utilising. However Richard had insisted she stay and listen to the more in depth guidance to the creatures Keenan was providing and she hadn't wanted to dampen his enthusiasm. She therefore just nodded and attempted to look interested whenever a comment was made in her direction, whilst subtly trying to overhear the other guide's talk.
When Keenan excused himself to go fetch some water – and a copy of his draft paper on…something to do with sea creatures – Richard turned to her and asked excitedly, "Isn't it a strange coincidence he is working on the Atlantic species of Amphioctopus for his thesis? They have, of course, been recorded using bivalve shells and coconuts as shelters, but I rather think Amphioctopus burryi might be too small to steal a camera. Mind we never did get that description!"
"OH it's an octopus!" She cried, now she knew that, most of the previous conversation actually made sense.
"Yes…" He said slowly, giving her a curious look. She supposed she should just confess.
"I'm afraid I don't keep abreast of the binomial names of Octopoda," She hoped he would be a little impressed by her use of 'binomial name' and 'Octopoda'. She remembered one from school and the other she had looked up on the internet a few days before.
He smiled softly and then said apologetically, "Sorry, I suppose we did get a bit…science-y?"
"A bit," she agreed, but smiled back at him. "But hey, it's nice to see you having, ah, fun."
"It is really interesting!" He enthused, and then added with a small cringe, "But you should be having fun as well. Do you want to, um, go look at the pretty fish through the glass thing?"
"Don't you want to discuss Keenan's paper on, um…?"
"Tool use in Atlantic Amphioctopus species?" Richard supplied.
"Yes, that."
He looked a little wistful for a moment, and then a look of resolve crossed his features. "I'll just ask him if I can take a copy home," he told her, before crossing the boat to talk to Keenan who was just coming back.
For Richard Poole, it was practically a grand romantic gesture.
For the rest of the journey, Camille could practically sense Richard resisting the urge to roll his eyes and quite possible correct the guide. But resist he did, and Camille was feeling really quite pleased with him. As they got off the boat, she was trying to think of a way to ask if he maybe wanted to get an afternoon drink and then, if things continued to go well, perhaps she would even suggest dinner. She was worried he would baulk and realise the day had been, well, rather date like – so she knew she had to pick her words carefully. But then Keenan sidled up and politely enquired if he would like to see the lagoon recently incorporated into the marine reserve, where he was carrying out most of his studies.
"It's rather rocky around it, so you won't ruin, um, your shoes," Keenan told them. Richard glanced at her, and Camille gave him an encouraging smile. Yes, she had had other plans, but the lagoon was rather nice and she'd enjoy just sitting by it whilst those two discussed things in more detail. Maybe she could convince him to hang around for a little while after Keenan was gone…
At the lagoon, she did indeed settle herself down on a rock whilst Keenan pointed out various species of limpet. She simply gazed down into the shallow water, watching little fish dash about. Then she spotted something that would be interesting to both men. "Look, there's an octopus!"
"Oh, it might be Olympus!" Keenan said excitedly. "I popped him in there this morning after I finished my measurements."
"You name your octopuses?" Camille asked, amused.
"Yes, they all get proper study numbers as well, but I name them just for my own amusement," Keenan told her, climbing up on the rock to peer down into the water. "Certainly looks like him." Richard joined them as well, a little more cautious in his clambering, and peered curiously into the water. The unusually named Olympus was actually moving towards them. Then, to Camille's surprise, began to drag himself out of the water.
"Uh oh," said Richard, scrambling away.
"Oh don't worry," Keenan said. "They can survive out of water for some time, they often climb over land between salt water pools." Camille hadn't know that, it was interesting. But the information didn't seem to calm Richard down any.
"Yes, I did know that. I just thought, you know, it would be best to give him plenty of space." Camille didn't 100% believe that excuse. The octopus ignored her entirely, and continued to somewhat awkwardly drag itself towards Richard, who continued to back off as quickly as he could without seeming to be bolting.
Camille, largely to try and prevent herself from laughing, commented, "Olympus is an unusual name for an octopus!"
"Well, there is an interesting story behind this octopus! In fact you guys are the perfect people to tell it to, you are police officers' right?" Keenan asked and Camille nodded. The octopus appeared to have paused in its advancement towards Richard to take a breath. If octopuses could breathe outside of water. "Well, when I was out early this morning I found this little guy in his hideout with an Olympus camera, quite a fancy one actually. I think he either picked it up off the sea floor, or possibly snatched it off another diver. Has anyone reported the loss of a camera?"
Both Camille and Richard were staring at Keenan in disbelief. This gave Olympus the time to crawl a little closer to Richard, a tentacle reaching out to touch his shoe. Richard jumped back in surprise.
"Come on Richard, don't you remember what you said you wanted to do if you ever met that octopus?" Camille teased, whilst Keenan looked on in confusion.
"Yeah, well, when I said that I didn't think it would ever happen!"
"He seems to rather like you," she continued.
"I think he is just curious," Keenan added, as if he disapproved of the anthropomorphism. "Also, I really don't understand what is going on."
"Richard said he would shake the tentacle of the octopus that stole a rather…unpleasant…gentleman's camera," Camille explained. "He seems unwilling to fulfil that promise now though."
"I wouldn't want to injure it!" He protested.
"Right, I think there is more to this story but, well, you won't hurt him." He walked over and confidently picked up the octopus, holding it out towards Richard. "Here, don't grip it too firmly obviously."
Camille really wasn't sure if Richard would baulk or go through with it. Eventually, with a little reluctance, he reached out a hand and touched the octopus tentacle briefly. Keenan seemed satisfied this qualified (even if Camille wasn't sure it did) so proceeded to return Olympus to the lagoon.
"Right, well, I guess you know who to return the camera too!" Keenan said, clapping his hands together. "It's back at the reserve headquarters, being drooled over by some of the volunteers."
Camille and Richard exchanged a look. "Actually," Richard began. "The individual in question didn't leave his contact details. He was here on holiday and has probably gone home by now."
"Oh that's a shame!" Keenan said.
"Mmm, it is," Camille couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of her tone, which earned her a curious look from Keenan.
"I mean, it is a very expensive piece of kit," Keenan felt the need to point out. "We haven't got anything nearly as good. I suppose we should give it to you though, in case he does call back to enquire about it?"
Another glance shared. Technically, that probably was what Keenan should do. But she didn't feel it was the right thing in this instance. She didn't know if Richard would be in agreement with her, so she needed to let him take the lead.
"Actually," Richard began once again. "I think it might be best for the reserve staff to keep it. I mean, if you feel it would be of benefit to the marine reserve?"
"Absolutely!" Keenan cried, delighted. "The better we can document the biodiversity here, the more of a case we can continue to make for its protection. Can we really keep it?" Finally, Keenan sounded less like a serious scientist and more like the 22 year old man he was. Boys and their toys.
"Yup, I don't see why not," Richard confirmed.
"Oh wow! I can't wait to tell the others! Are you guys ready to leave?"
Richard was probably about to say yes, but Camille spoke before he could. "I think we'll stay here for a little while, Keenan, but you go ahead," she said firmly. Richard was looking a little startled by her statement, but Keenan didn't notice – he practically skipped off in the direction of the marine reserve headquarters.
Camille smiled brightly at Richard, "That was nice of you." The compliment, and possibly the smile, made him a little flustered.
"Um, well, you know, Magnusson really didn't leave any details and as you are, um, aware never contacted the Commissioner so, you know, I thought we should leave the equipment where it will do the most good."
"Well, still, it is a little against the rules," she pointed out with a small smile.
"Well I think you'll find that since we have no serial number for the device, it is rather impossible to be sure it is the same camera."
"Yes, I suppose the octopus could have stolen the exact same make and model from somebody else who didn't report the incident," she agreed, earning herself a lopsided grin from Richard. Camille no longer cared if he agreed to drinks or not. When he gave her that smile, the one she had never seen him use with anyone else, it always felt like a victory – like they were on the way to being something more than they currently were. Richard shifted, probably uncomfortable with the amount of time she had been watching him. He opened his mouth to speak, and she predicted he was about to suggest he head home.
"So, um, drinks?"
Camille was perfectly happy to be wrong.
A/N: Perhaps I'll write a sequel where Camille and Richard are brought together whilst investigating an allegation of assault…carried out by an irate cuttlefish.