A Case Thing (1/1)
Title: A Case Thing (1/1)
Author: jlrpuck
Rating: K
Characters: Peter Carlisle, Elias McCoy
Disclaimer: Characters from Blackpool are the property of BBC, are are used with the greatest of love and respect; no profit is intended from the writing or sharing of this story.
Summary: Peter and Elias get sent on their first case together in London.
Notes: Written for
kholly, who won my services through a generous donation to the September Support Stacie auction. Her prompt was pretty much what it says in the story summary, with the lovely addition of “I was just poking through Year Two to see how much of Elias we get and it seems like mostly he's in the background of stories about Peter and Rose learning to live with each other. Now you know me, I love Peter and Rose, so that's not a complaint, just an observation. But I really like young, rough around the edges Peter, and Elias turned into such a great friend so a story where we see a bit of that happening would be very fun.”
Many thanks to
earlgreytea68 and
chicklet73 for their beta and feedback on this. Any errors in the story, though, are mine and mine alone.
A Case Thing
“A burglary?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well…I’d thought…” Peter trailed off, shaking his head.
“What?” Elias glanced over before returning his attention to piloting the speeding car through the narrow city streets.
“Bit…mundane. A burglary.”
Elias snorted. “You did hear the call-out, didn’t you? Not just any burglary. A burglary of one of the more esteemed residences in London, with the woman of the house braying for blood and the Met’s finest.”
“She’ll be a bit disappointed then, don’t you think?”
“Speak for yourself, Carlisle.” Elias preened even as he jerked the steering wheel first one way, then back the other. He didn’t bat an eye as the car which had been about to run the red light and crash into them skidded to a halt.
“I suppose I should count us lucky to be alive to investigate the thing.”
“Are you calling into question my superior reflexes and brilliant driving skills?”
Peter braced a hand on the dash as he replied, the word, “No,” just audible through his gritted teeth. Elias, noting the car Peter had seen turning in front of them, slammed on the brakes.
“I’m going to go gray,” Peter muttered, adrenaline coursing through him. He knew he wasn’t exactly the tamest of drivers, but Elias appeared to be an utter madman.
“You already are.” The engine revved as Elias gunned it, peeling across the now-open intersection. “Carlisle, you do realize that we work the small cases as well as the large down here? That they’re not all big, flashy deals that go to trial in the Old Bailey and get media coverage across a variety of outlets?”
Elias’s eyes were serious when he stole another glance over to where Peter sat.
“Aye. Just…” He shook his head, laughing ruefully at himself. “I suppose I’d thought it would be all flash and excitement. Which-don’t get me wrong, riding with you is far more excitement than I’ve had in months, most likely since we both almost got ourselves dead-”
“You almost got us dead,” Elias interjected. “And I’ve ridden with you-you’ve no room to criticize.”
“Oi!”
“Are you going to be able to cope with such a lowly first case, Detective Inspector?” There was a note of humour to Elias’s question-but also a note of steel. It was a joking question, but Elias wasn’t joking at all.
“Aye.” Peter nodded firmly. “Assuming of course, that we make it there in one piece.”
They did, arriving a few moments later to find the tony address marked by discreetly placed crime scene tape. Elias pulled up onto the pavement, shutting the car off as he jerked up on the parking brake, and the two of them emerged to the bright flashes of the zanzare who always lurked outside the house.
“Carlisle! Over here!”
“Inspector! Here!”
Peter pursed his lips, a wave of fury washing through him at the omnipresence of the annoying photographers. He was sure Elias would be furious, having to deal with them; that they’d return to the station, and Elias would go into Cunningham’s office to complain about how untenable it was to work with a man who created such distraction, and he’d be sent packing or sloughed off to some sub-basement office where he’d never see the light of day. He felt his shoulders sag, and prepared to elbow his way through the throng. Maybe if he could just come up with a brilliant question for the victim, or the witnesses; or if he could get inside and find something useful, Elias wouldn’t-
“Listen!” Elias’s voice boomed over the clamour of the photographers, effectively shutting them up. “You been here long?”
“All mornin’,” chirped one voice.
“Brilliant. Your film is now evidence, and you’ll all be wanted for questioning as material witnesses.” Elias whistled shrilly, pulling the attention of the PC’s at the end of the drive. “You lot! Get these men’s names and their film.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I’m not a man!”
“We’ll register a complaint!”
The protests flowed thickly, leading Elias to hook his pinkies into his mouth and whistle again, loudly. “You’re not suspects. You are witnesses. If your film contains nothing criminal, or nothing related to the case, you’ll have it returned. Upon providing witness statements-as you’re all innocent men and women-you’ll be released to go about your normal duties. I’m sure you all understand the importance of assisting the police in an investigation of a criminal nature? And I’m sure your editors will all love the perspective you’ll be able to provide on this particular story.” Elias looked over to Peter, winking, before sauntering through the crowd of zanzare.
Peter felt his shoulders slump further as he followed his colleague. Elias might not object to working with a partner the media followed, but he’d surely notice that Peter had been utterly useless…
“Carlisle.” Elias skidded to a halt on the manicured gravel of the gracefully curved driveway. They were out of view of the zanzare, now, the shrubbery blocking them from view of the street. “You alright? You aren’t carsick, are you?” Elias’s voice registered alarm at the thought.
“Your driving is many things, McCoy, but sick-inducing isn’t one of them.”
Elias peered at him, his eyes searching. “Good. Because for a moment there I was beginning to suspect that you were sinking into a Carlisle-ian funk, doubting your ability to work a case, or possibly suspecting that I might ditch you like a bad date. Neither of which are valid. Not that I think you were thinking those things.”
“Ah.”
“Ah,” Elias replied, firmly. “Now can we please go work this case and get it done? Because I really hate burglaries-they’re too boring. Murders are really more my thing.”
Peter laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and lightly punching Elias in the shoulder. “Ye twisted bastard.”
Elias beamed. “It’s the basis of my charm.”
“Heaven help us all.”
“Or heaven help those who we find. C’mon-let’s get this done.” Elias jerked his head in the direction of the entrance to the grand house, and led the way into their first investigation together in London.
~ fin ~
Author: jlrpuck
Rating: K
Characters: Peter Carlisle, Elias McCoy
Disclaimer: Characters from Blackpool are the property of BBC, are are used with the greatest of love and respect; no profit is intended from the writing or sharing of this story.
Summary: Peter and Elias get sent on their first case together in London.
Notes: Written for
kholly, who won my services through a generous donation to the September Support Stacie auction. Her prompt was pretty much what it says in the story summary, with the lovely addition of “I was just poking through Year Two to see how much of Elias we get and it seems like mostly he's in the background of stories about Peter and Rose learning to live with each other. Now you know me, I love Peter and Rose, so that's not a complaint, just an observation. But I really like young, rough around the edges Peter, and Elias turned into such a great friend so a story where we see a bit of that happening would be very fun.”
Many thanks to
earlgreytea68 and
chicklet73 for their beta and feedback on this. Any errors in the story, though, are mine and mine alone.
A Case Thing
“A burglary?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well…I’d thought…” Peter trailed off, shaking his head.
“What?” Elias glanced over before returning his attention to piloting the speeding car through the narrow city streets.
“Bit…mundane. A burglary.”
Elias snorted. “You did hear the call-out, didn’t you? Not just any burglary. A burglary of one of the more esteemed residences in London, with the woman of the house braying for blood and the Met’s finest.”
“She’ll be a bit disappointed then, don’t you think?”
“Speak for yourself, Carlisle.” Elias preened even as he jerked the steering wheel first one way, then back the other. He didn’t bat an eye as the car which had been about to run the red light and crash into them skidded to a halt.
“I suppose I should count us lucky to be alive to investigate the thing.”
“Are you calling into question my superior reflexes and brilliant driving skills?”
Peter braced a hand on the dash as he replied, the word, “No,” just audible through his gritted teeth. Elias, noting the car Peter had seen turning in front of them, slammed on the brakes.
“I’m going to go gray,” Peter muttered, adrenaline coursing through him. He knew he wasn’t exactly the tamest of drivers, but Elias appeared to be an utter madman.
“You already are.” The engine revved as Elias gunned it, peeling across the now-open intersection. “Carlisle, you do realize that we work the small cases as well as the large down here? That they’re not all big, flashy deals that go to trial in the Old Bailey and get media coverage across a variety of outlets?”
Elias’s eyes were serious when he stole another glance over to where Peter sat.
“Aye. Just…” He shook his head, laughing ruefully at himself. “I suppose I’d thought it would be all flash and excitement. Which-don’t get me wrong, riding with you is far more excitement than I’ve had in months, most likely since we both almost got ourselves dead-”
“You almost got us dead,” Elias interjected. “And I’ve ridden with you-you’ve no room to criticize.”
“Oi!”
“Are you going to be able to cope with such a lowly first case, Detective Inspector?” There was a note of humour to Elias’s question-but also a note of steel. It was a joking question, but Elias wasn’t joking at all.
“Aye.” Peter nodded firmly. “Assuming of course, that we make it there in one piece.”
They did, arriving a few moments later to find the tony address marked by discreetly placed crime scene tape. Elias pulled up onto the pavement, shutting the car off as he jerked up on the parking brake, and the two of them emerged to the bright flashes of the zanzare who always lurked outside the house.
“Carlisle! Over here!”
“Inspector! Here!”
Peter pursed his lips, a wave of fury washing through him at the omnipresence of the annoying photographers. He was sure Elias would be furious, having to deal with them; that they’d return to the station, and Elias would go into Cunningham’s office to complain about how untenable it was to work with a man who created such distraction, and he’d be sent packing or sloughed off to some sub-basement office where he’d never see the light of day. He felt his shoulders sag, and prepared to elbow his way through the throng. Maybe if he could just come up with a brilliant question for the victim, or the witnesses; or if he could get inside and find something useful, Elias wouldn’t-
“Listen!” Elias’s voice boomed over the clamour of the photographers, effectively shutting them up. “You been here long?”
“All mornin’,” chirped one voice.
“Brilliant. Your film is now evidence, and you’ll all be wanted for questioning as material witnesses.” Elias whistled shrilly, pulling the attention of the PC’s at the end of the drive. “You lot! Get these men’s names and their film.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I’m not a man!”
“We’ll register a complaint!”
The protests flowed thickly, leading Elias to hook his pinkies into his mouth and whistle again, loudly. “You’re not suspects. You are witnesses. If your film contains nothing criminal, or nothing related to the case, you’ll have it returned. Upon providing witness statements-as you’re all innocent men and women-you’ll be released to go about your normal duties. I’m sure you all understand the importance of assisting the police in an investigation of a criminal nature? And I’m sure your editors will all love the perspective you’ll be able to provide on this particular story.” Elias looked over to Peter, winking, before sauntering through the crowd of zanzare.
Peter felt his shoulders slump further as he followed his colleague. Elias might not object to working with a partner the media followed, but he’d surely notice that Peter had been utterly useless…
“Carlisle.” Elias skidded to a halt on the manicured gravel of the gracefully curved driveway. They were out of view of the zanzare, now, the shrubbery blocking them from view of the street. “You alright? You aren’t carsick, are you?” Elias’s voice registered alarm at the thought.
“Your driving is many things, McCoy, but sick-inducing isn’t one of them.”
Elias peered at him, his eyes searching. “Good. Because for a moment there I was beginning to suspect that you were sinking into a Carlisle-ian funk, doubting your ability to work a case, or possibly suspecting that I might ditch you like a bad date. Neither of which are valid. Not that I think you were thinking those things.”
“Ah.”
“Ah,” Elias replied, firmly. “Now can we please go work this case and get it done? Because I really hate burglaries-they’re too boring. Murders are really more my thing.”
Peter laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and lightly punching Elias in the shoulder. “Ye twisted bastard.”
Elias beamed. “It’s the basis of my charm.”
“Heaven help us all.”
“Or heaven help those who we find. C’mon-let’s get this done.” Elias jerked his head in the direction of the entrance to the grand house, and led the way into their first investigation together in London.
~ fin ~