a new LoM fic for you! :)
Title: A good Copper
Author: SYLVY (space_oddity_75)
Rating: White Cortina
Characters: Chris, Ray
Word Count: 1024
Beta-reader: m31andy
Disclaimer: LoM belongs to the BBC and Kudos, no infringement intended
Notes: missing scene for 2.08 (little spoilers)
Summary: just some Chris/Ray buddy talk, originally written for my friend dorcas_gustine
It was a quiet evening at The Railway Arms, the regulars from CID chatting away and drinking as usual, only ready to call it a night when Nelson would throw them out at closing time.
Approaching the counter to order the umpteenth pint, Ray sat down lazily on one of the stools and eyed his colleague Chris, who'd been staring into his drink for the past hour, lost in deep thought and oblivious to his surroundings.
'Oi mate, what's wrong with ya?' he asked casually.
The younger man grimaced at the sight of the gauze sling holding up his friend's wounded arm, courtesy of a close encounter with a bunch of armed train robbers earlier that day.
'It’s nothin'...' he shrugged, trying not to think of his own aching shoulder.
'C'mon, you can't fool me. I'm sure there’s something nasty gnawing at your bollocks, it’s written all over your face. So, what's it then? Spit it out. Did your skirt leave you for another soddin’ git?' He lit a fag and left it to dangle from the corner of his mouth. 'Well, too bad for her, I say. Always was a stuck-up little tart, that one, anyway. You deserve better. Maybe one with bigger tits, next time, though. Yeah, that'd be nice: big tits and a well-rounded arse!' he grinned appreciatively.
Chris shook his head and wet his lips with the amber liquid before putting it down again.
'Nope, 's not that.’
'Wait, no skirt involved? What's your big problem, then?', his friend enquired in amazement, taking a mighty swig of the bitter Nelson had set down in front of him a minute before.
'Well, it’s just... I think I don't wanna be a copper anymore'.
Ray almost choked on his drink, his face flushed with the effort to regain his breath without spluttering beer everywhere.
'You what? And I thought that Sam-bloody-Tyler was the only nutter around here! You sure you haven’t banged your head like him?'
'Look, I know it sounds stupid, but... the thing is, I'm sick an’ tired of feeling so damn useless in my job all the time! A good copper shouldn't be scared in front of danger: he should put on a brave face and get on with his duty, no matter what. You and the Guv do it, even the Boss and Annie do it... and she’s a girl! So why can't I?'
'Chris, don't be a div. You don’t have to behave like a bloody heartless robot in order to be a good copper! Feelings sometimes can get in the way, that’s true, but they don’t prevent you from doing your job properly. You just learn how to control them and that’s what keeps you going.'
'But I almost shit meself in that goddamn train today! I saw you and the Guv get shot in the back by those bastards, heard Annie shout, felt the bullets zip a few inches from me head... an’ I couldn’t do nothing! There was so much blood, so much pain... and all I did was run away and cower in that tunnel like a stupid girl! A damn great copper I am!’
Gripping the glass tightly, he lowered his head in shame, the long fringe mercifully hiding his pain-stricken mismatched eyes.
‘I’ve tried to be different, Ray... I’ve tried so hard. But somehow I don't think this is the right job for me anymore... Maybe I should just be a milkman, or a postman, dunno... or find meself some nice and quiet clerical job that wouldn't have me shaking in front of my colleagues all the time!'
The older policeman sighed and put out his cigarette butt into the nearest ashtray. Leaning towards his friend, he put a hand upon the guy’s unwounded shoulder and squeezed it gently.
'Chris, listen to me,’ he said sympathetically, ‘it's okay to be scared, from time to time... even for a copper... even for me. There’s no reason to be ashamed of what you’re feeling. A copper who’s never scared tends to take too many risks, putting himself and everybody else in unnecessary danger, and this is the last thing we want, especially in a sticky situation like today. Didn’t bloody Tyler explain that during his stupid ‘procedural seminar’ last week? Not that I was really listening to all his hour-long gabber, but I’m sure he did. And you know what? This time I even have to agree with that little arsehole!’ He shook his head, disbelievingly. ‘Hey, but don’t let it slip with him, or I’ll hunt you down and beat the shit out of you until you say you made it all up, alright?’
Chris had to smile in spite of himself. Maybe his friend was right, after all.
‘Besides, you don’t have to worry too much,’ said Ray again, suddenly looking away and lighting another fag, ‘because I’ll always be there to cover your scrawny arse, you stupid little div!’
‘Really?’
‘Really’.
None of them spoke for a while, Ray’s words lingering in the air and filtering into Chris’ mind.
‘Ray?’
‘Hmm...’
‘Thanks. I’m feeling much better now.’
‘Glad to know it. About time you bought me another pint, then!’
Chris smiled again, downed his whisky in one and ordered a second round for both.
‘You see... now that I think about it, I don’t know whether I’d have wanted to be a milkman, after all,’ he mused.
‘Good for you that you’re still a copper, then!’
The two clinked their glasses and drank again, this time with a more cheerful spirit.
As the conversation was left to drift to less serious topics, Phyllis entered the bar and sat on a stool beside them, the usual smirk on her face. Curious to hear the boys’ comments, she was always happy to join in and provide a little bit of her womanly wisdom.
'Hey Chris, nice glass of booze you have there!' she noted immediately. 'Learning to drown your problems in whisky?'
The young man put up a cheerful smile and shook his head, while Ray pretended to look away.
'No, not really. Actually, I was just teaching ‘em how to swim.'
*****
MANY THANKS to my great beta reader m31andy
X-posted.
.
Author: SYLVY (space_oddity_75)
Rating: White Cortina
Characters: Chris, Ray
Word Count: 1024
Beta-reader: m31andy
Disclaimer: LoM belongs to the BBC and Kudos, no infringement intended
Notes: missing scene for 2.08 (little spoilers)
Summary: just some Chris/Ray buddy talk, originally written for my friend dorcas_gustine
It was a quiet evening at The Railway Arms, the regulars from CID chatting away and drinking as usual, only ready to call it a night when Nelson would throw them out at closing time.
Approaching the counter to order the umpteenth pint, Ray sat down lazily on one of the stools and eyed his colleague Chris, who'd been staring into his drink for the past hour, lost in deep thought and oblivious to his surroundings.
'Oi mate, what's wrong with ya?' he asked casually.
The younger man grimaced at the sight of the gauze sling holding up his friend's wounded arm, courtesy of a close encounter with a bunch of armed train robbers earlier that day.
'It’s nothin'...' he shrugged, trying not to think of his own aching shoulder.
'C'mon, you can't fool me. I'm sure there’s something nasty gnawing at your bollocks, it’s written all over your face. So, what's it then? Spit it out. Did your skirt leave you for another soddin’ git?' He lit a fag and left it to dangle from the corner of his mouth. 'Well, too bad for her, I say. Always was a stuck-up little tart, that one, anyway. You deserve better. Maybe one with bigger tits, next time, though. Yeah, that'd be nice: big tits and a well-rounded arse!' he grinned appreciatively.
Chris shook his head and wet his lips with the amber liquid before putting it down again.
'Nope, 's not that.’
'Wait, no skirt involved? What's your big problem, then?', his friend enquired in amazement, taking a mighty swig of the bitter Nelson had set down in front of him a minute before.
'Well, it’s just... I think I don't wanna be a copper anymore'.
Ray almost choked on his drink, his face flushed with the effort to regain his breath without spluttering beer everywhere.
'You what? And I thought that Sam-bloody-Tyler was the only nutter around here! You sure you haven’t banged your head like him?'
'Look, I know it sounds stupid, but... the thing is, I'm sick an’ tired of feeling so damn useless in my job all the time! A good copper shouldn't be scared in front of danger: he should put on a brave face and get on with his duty, no matter what. You and the Guv do it, even the Boss and Annie do it... and she’s a girl! So why can't I?'
'Chris, don't be a div. You don’t have to behave like a bloody heartless robot in order to be a good copper! Feelings sometimes can get in the way, that’s true, but they don’t prevent you from doing your job properly. You just learn how to control them and that’s what keeps you going.'
'But I almost shit meself in that goddamn train today! I saw you and the Guv get shot in the back by those bastards, heard Annie shout, felt the bullets zip a few inches from me head... an’ I couldn’t do nothing! There was so much blood, so much pain... and all I did was run away and cower in that tunnel like a stupid girl! A damn great copper I am!’
Gripping the glass tightly, he lowered his head in shame, the long fringe mercifully hiding his pain-stricken mismatched eyes.
‘I’ve tried to be different, Ray... I’ve tried so hard. But somehow I don't think this is the right job for me anymore... Maybe I should just be a milkman, or a postman, dunno... or find meself some nice and quiet clerical job that wouldn't have me shaking in front of my colleagues all the time!'
The older policeman sighed and put out his cigarette butt into the nearest ashtray. Leaning towards his friend, he put a hand upon the guy’s unwounded shoulder and squeezed it gently.
'Chris, listen to me,’ he said sympathetically, ‘it's okay to be scared, from time to time... even for a copper... even for me. There’s no reason to be ashamed of what you’re feeling. A copper who’s never scared tends to take too many risks, putting himself and everybody else in unnecessary danger, and this is the last thing we want, especially in a sticky situation like today. Didn’t bloody Tyler explain that during his stupid ‘procedural seminar’ last week? Not that I was really listening to all his hour-long gabber, but I’m sure he did. And you know what? This time I even have to agree with that little arsehole!’ He shook his head, disbelievingly. ‘Hey, but don’t let it slip with him, or I’ll hunt you down and beat the shit out of you until you say you made it all up, alright?’
Chris had to smile in spite of himself. Maybe his friend was right, after all.
‘Besides, you don’t have to worry too much,’ said Ray again, suddenly looking away and lighting another fag, ‘because I’ll always be there to cover your scrawny arse, you stupid little div!’
‘Really?’
‘Really’.
None of them spoke for a while, Ray’s words lingering in the air and filtering into Chris’ mind.
‘Ray?’
‘Hmm...’
‘Thanks. I’m feeling much better now.’
‘Glad to know it. About time you bought me another pint, then!’
Chris smiled again, downed his whisky in one and ordered a second round for both.
‘You see... now that I think about it, I don’t know whether I’d have wanted to be a milkman, after all,’ he mused.
‘Good for you that you’re still a copper, then!’
The two clinked their glasses and drank again, this time with a more cheerful spirit.
As the conversation was left to drift to less serious topics, Phyllis entered the bar and sat on a stool beside them, the usual smirk on her face. Curious to hear the boys’ comments, she was always happy to join in and provide a little bit of her womanly wisdom.
'Hey Chris, nice glass of booze you have there!' she noted immediately. 'Learning to drown your problems in whisky?'
The young man put up a cheerful smile and shook his head, while Ray pretended to look away.
'No, not really. Actually, I was just teaching ‘em how to swim.'
*****
MANY THANKS to my great beta reader m31andy
X-posted.
.