James T. Kirk Causeway and Into the Island; Wednesday Afternoon [10/22 ]
Daisy had say at her desk, and wanted to sigh, but she didn't. Sighing, she felt, usually gave people the wrong impression, even if there were no people in her office at that time besides herself. The chief had just left, having told her the jolly good news of her transfer, using his words and certainly not hers. "Lovely place, Detective Constable, lovely!" He was not a man to use the word 'lovely' often; this did not bode well.
"Nice quiet town in the States; you'll love it."
Needless to say, Daisy was doubtful, since she loved very few things that could be considered quiet, especially when it came to her job.
Again, she wanted to sigh, but, instead, she looked around her office. Technically, it was hers until five, so she picked up the phone. She called up her flatmate; she called up her landlord; she called up the airport. Everything had been rather neatly taken care of. "Bless, they were thorough," she remarked to her desk. She wasn't in the habit of talking to inanimate objections, but the London PD had knever been known to her to be thorough, either, so it balanced out.
She sat at her desk and she made some calls, and it was still not five, so she turned to her computer and worked until then, doing what she could, dutifully, before she left. Any signs of suspicious activity went toward someone she hoped would handle it, but knew better.
She did what she could and then there was a plane, which gave her the chance for at least a nap, because picking up and switching spots wasn't something anyone should do without a bit of rest. Especially when there would be considerable jet-lag to combat.
And then she was there, stepping out of a cab and walking beyond a causeway. Smaller island, smaller job, smaller everything.
This time, Daisy did sigh, and that, too, was small.
[[ and there she is; open, naturally ]]
"Nice quiet town in the States; you'll love it."
Needless to say, Daisy was doubtful, since she loved very few things that could be considered quiet, especially when it came to her job.
Again, she wanted to sigh, but, instead, she looked around her office. Technically, it was hers until five, so she picked up the phone. She called up her flatmate; she called up her landlord; she called up the airport. Everything had been rather neatly taken care of. "Bless, they were thorough," she remarked to her desk. She wasn't in the habit of talking to inanimate objections, but the London PD had knever been known to her to be thorough, either, so it balanced out.
She sat at her desk and she made some calls, and it was still not five, so she turned to her computer and worked until then, doing what she could, dutifully, before she left. Any signs of suspicious activity went toward someone she hoped would handle it, but knew better.
She did what she could and then there was a plane, which gave her the chance for at least a nap, because picking up and switching spots wasn't something anyone should do without a bit of rest. Especially when there would be considerable jet-lag to combat.
And then she was there, stepping out of a cab and walking beyond a causeway. Smaller island, smaller job, smaller everything.
This time, Daisy did sigh, and that, too, was small.
[[ and there she is; open, naturally ]]