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holmesticeTitle: London, Oxford, Causton
Recipient:galadriel1010
Author:penaltywaltz
Verse: BBC Sherlock/Inspector Lewis/Midsomer Murders
Characters/Pairings: Sally Donovan, James Hathaway & Ben Jones; unrequited James Hathaway/Sally Donovan and Ben Jones/Sally Donovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: Tiny bit of language
Summary: Every year, Sally gets to see two of her favorite coppers from other cities, and this year is no different.
Authors Notes: So this is my treat for Galadriel1010 because I didn’t get to sit down and write it until after fics were due. I really hope you enjoy this little crossover between three of my (and your) favorite shows!
It was that time of year again, when coppers all over the country gathered to learn new techniques, swap stories, and commemorate those lost to the job. Sally wasn’t a particular fan of the lessons to learn, but she was a fan of the company, especially the company from Midsomer County and Oxford.
And as she waited in her favorite pub, she was glad this year they were all meeting in London. New Scotland Yard wanted to show off, and admittedly, so did she. Last year the conference had been in Oxford and Hathaway had gotten to play host. Jones always commiserated that unless they were to hold the conference in Causton he’d never get to show them where he spent his days.
But she had plans for her two mates and her tonight. They were going to have a proper night out in London town. Drinks, then a meal at her favorite Thai place, then a nice film noir movie at the theater Greg had introduced her to when they’d had that bad case last year.
James Hathaway arrived first, his height easily making him stand out in the crowd. Not that he was taller than most blokes there, but he carried himself almost regally, which served the Oxford DI right, she supposed. He was an intellect and a good man, sometimes seeming too good for a copper’s work. He should really have been an academic, but if academia had taken him, she’d had never had a good friend in him.
“Sally,” he said, and she stretched up to kiss each of his cheeks in greeting. “You look a sight for sore eyes.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said with a cheeky grin, smoothing down the front of her black dress. It wasn’t one of those little black dresses, meant to titillate and stir up emotions, but it was nicer than what she generally wore on the job. The shoulder covering jacket accented the look, but it did nothing to keep her warm, just make her look as smashing as she could while still looking mildly professional.
“Not everywhere, I’ve found,” he said. She could see his fingers flex and she knew what he wanted. They all had their vices and Hathaway’s was high tar cigs. She smiled and nodded her way to the door, and he relaxed. As soon as they were outside and a few feet away from the entrance he dug out a crisp pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, getting a lighter next and lighting up. He knew better than to offer one to her, or one to Jones whenever he arrived. This was one vice not shared equally among them. Jones's was gambling, low stakes of course, and hers was messy, no good relationships.
Speaking of, Sally looked over and saw Ben Jones getting out of a cab. He paid the driver and then flashed her a smile as he caught sight of them. He was tall, too, but more solidly compact than Hathaway was. She had to admit she fancied them both a bit, but Jones was warmth and humor and liveliness while Hathaway was coolness and intellect and sly smiles like they were both in on a secret. Push come to shove Jones was more her type, but she never pushed things farther than friendship with either of them because she didn’t want to risk things. Maybe it made her a coward, but she kept her blokes and for that, she was happy.
“Sally!” Jones said, opening up his arms for a hug. Oh, she loved being hugged by him. He always smelled so nice, like he was trying to impress, but there was also the scent of his shampoo and his aftershave and she had to admit, it was a comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and inhaled, happy to find over the last year some things hadn’t changed. He held on a bit longer than normal but when he let go he clapped Hathaway on the shoulder and Hathaway nodded back.
“I see you couldn’t wait,” Jones said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket and then leaning forward to put his weight on his toes.
“I always want a smoke before I have a drink. At least in Oxford, there are still places where I can sit outside and drink.”
“One of the downsides of London,” Sally said. “Smoking seems to have gone out of fashion, even at businesses with outdoor drinking. But we’ll let James have his cig and then we’ll have a pint or two before Thai food.”
“Thai...sounds good to me,” Jones said. “Causton could use half as many restaurants as London’s got.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to show you my favorites,” Sally said with a mock pout, and Hathaway’s grin and Jones’s chuckle washed it away almost as quickly as it settled on her face. “And besides, don’t we have things to talk late into the night about?”
“It’s a good thing this is a four-day long convention,” Hathaway said as he took another drag of his cigarette.
“Well, it might be my last,” Jones said. “At least, coming from Causton.”
“Oh?” Sally asked, genuinely surprised at the news, and slightly dismayed as well. She didn’t want to lose her yearly time with her boys. She didn’t want things to change. “What’s happened?”
“Well, you know how Tom left, and his cousin took over? John Barnaby recommended me for a position as a DI outside of Causton CID. I might have a chance.”
“Oh, that's good,” she said. “Where at?”
She swore there was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke. “Brighton. You know, where next year’s conference is supposed to be held.”
“Congratulations, you bastard,” Hathaway said with a much warmer grin, clapping Jones on the shoulder. “Next year, drinks and dinner are on you.”
“So we’ll still get to see you?” Sally asked.
“Like I would abandon the two of you to each other. I make this trio what it is, after all.” Sally smacked his arm but she was pleased. Promotions and transfers apparently wouldn’t pull the three of them asunder, it seemed. That was good. “Whenever you have enough nicotine in your system, James, then we can get a pint to celebrate. I’ll even make it my treat if dinner is still on Sally.”
“You’re on,” Hathaway said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out, then picking up the butt and slipping it into his cigarette pack. Sally knew they couldn’t be too careful with things like that; she remembered people being caught with a fingerprint of a cigarette butt in the wrong place. Nailing a cop to some crime would be a coup for some of the enemies they might have in the woodwork. She knew that by working with Greg that meant working with Sherlock, and while they were civil now, Sherlock had enemies she could only wonder about. Her association with him didn’t put her at risk as much as Greg’s did, she hoped, but she couldn’t be sure.
But melancholy thoughts were washed from her mind when Jones offered her an arm and Hathaway one as well, and she linked an arm with each of them as they headed back to the pub. Thoughts of the future could keep for the time being. For now? It was time for them to take London and give it a whirl.
Recipient:
galadriel1010Author:
penaltywaltz Verse: BBC Sherlock/Inspector Lewis/Midsomer Murders
Characters/Pairings: Sally Donovan, James Hathaway & Ben Jones; unrequited James Hathaway/Sally Donovan and Ben Jones/Sally Donovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: Tiny bit of language
Summary: Every year, Sally gets to see two of her favorite coppers from other cities, and this year is no different.
Authors Notes: So this is my treat for Galadriel1010 because I didn’t get to sit down and write it until after fics were due. I really hope you enjoy this little crossover between three of my (and your) favorite shows!
It was that time of year again, when coppers all over the country gathered to learn new techniques, swap stories, and commemorate those lost to the job. Sally wasn’t a particular fan of the lessons to learn, but she was a fan of the company, especially the company from Midsomer County and Oxford.
And as she waited in her favorite pub, she was glad this year they were all meeting in London. New Scotland Yard wanted to show off, and admittedly, so did she. Last year the conference had been in Oxford and Hathaway had gotten to play host. Jones always commiserated that unless they were to hold the conference in Causton he’d never get to show them where he spent his days.
But she had plans for her two mates and her tonight. They were going to have a proper night out in London town. Drinks, then a meal at her favorite Thai place, then a nice film noir movie at the theater Greg had introduced her to when they’d had that bad case last year.
James Hathaway arrived first, his height easily making him stand out in the crowd. Not that he was taller than most blokes there, but he carried himself almost regally, which served the Oxford DI right, she supposed. He was an intellect and a good man, sometimes seeming too good for a copper’s work. He should really have been an academic, but if academia had taken him, she’d had never had a good friend in him.
“Sally,” he said, and she stretched up to kiss each of his cheeks in greeting. “You look a sight for sore eyes.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said with a cheeky grin, smoothing down the front of her black dress. It wasn’t one of those little black dresses, meant to titillate and stir up emotions, but it was nicer than what she generally wore on the job. The shoulder covering jacket accented the look, but it did nothing to keep her warm, just make her look as smashing as she could while still looking mildly professional.
“Not everywhere, I’ve found,” he said. She could see his fingers flex and she knew what he wanted. They all had their vices and Hathaway’s was high tar cigs. She smiled and nodded her way to the door, and he relaxed. As soon as they were outside and a few feet away from the entrance he dug out a crisp pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, getting a lighter next and lighting up. He knew better than to offer one to her, or one to Jones whenever he arrived. This was one vice not shared equally among them. Jones's was gambling, low stakes of course, and hers was messy, no good relationships.
Speaking of, Sally looked over and saw Ben Jones getting out of a cab. He paid the driver and then flashed her a smile as he caught sight of them. He was tall, too, but more solidly compact than Hathaway was. She had to admit she fancied them both a bit, but Jones was warmth and humor and liveliness while Hathaway was coolness and intellect and sly smiles like they were both in on a secret. Push come to shove Jones was more her type, but she never pushed things farther than friendship with either of them because she didn’t want to risk things. Maybe it made her a coward, but she kept her blokes and for that, she was happy.
“Sally!” Jones said, opening up his arms for a hug. Oh, she loved being hugged by him. He always smelled so nice, like he was trying to impress, but there was also the scent of his shampoo and his aftershave and she had to admit, it was a comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and inhaled, happy to find over the last year some things hadn’t changed. He held on a bit longer than normal but when he let go he clapped Hathaway on the shoulder and Hathaway nodded back.
“I see you couldn’t wait,” Jones said, stuffing his hands in his jacket pocket and then leaning forward to put his weight on his toes.
“I always want a smoke before I have a drink. At least in Oxford, there are still places where I can sit outside and drink.”
“One of the downsides of London,” Sally said. “Smoking seems to have gone out of fashion, even at businesses with outdoor drinking. But we’ll let James have his cig and then we’ll have a pint or two before Thai food.”
“Thai...sounds good to me,” Jones said. “Causton could use half as many restaurants as London’s got.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to show you my favorites,” Sally said with a mock pout, and Hathaway’s grin and Jones’s chuckle washed it away almost as quickly as it settled on her face. “And besides, don’t we have things to talk late into the night about?”
“It’s a good thing this is a four-day long convention,” Hathaway said as he took another drag of his cigarette.
“Well, it might be my last,” Jones said. “At least, coming from Causton.”
“Oh?” Sally asked, genuinely surprised at the news, and slightly dismayed as well. She didn’t want to lose her yearly time with her boys. She didn’t want things to change. “What’s happened?”
“Well, you know how Tom left, and his cousin took over? John Barnaby recommended me for a position as a DI outside of Causton CID. I might have a chance.”
“Oh, that's good,” she said. “Where at?”
She swore there was a twinkle in his eye when he spoke. “Brighton. You know, where next year’s conference is supposed to be held.”
“Congratulations, you bastard,” Hathaway said with a much warmer grin, clapping Jones on the shoulder. “Next year, drinks and dinner are on you.”
“So we’ll still get to see you?” Sally asked.
“Like I would abandon the two of you to each other. I make this trio what it is, after all.” Sally smacked his arm but she was pleased. Promotions and transfers apparently wouldn’t pull the three of them asunder, it seemed. That was good. “Whenever you have enough nicotine in your system, James, then we can get a pint to celebrate. I’ll even make it my treat if dinner is still on Sally.”
“You’re on,” Hathaway said, dropping his cigarette on the ground and stubbing it out, then picking up the butt and slipping it into his cigarette pack. Sally knew they couldn’t be too careful with things like that; she remembered people being caught with a fingerprint of a cigarette butt in the wrong place. Nailing a cop to some crime would be a coup for some of the enemies they might have in the woodwork. She knew that by working with Greg that meant working with Sherlock, and while they were civil now, Sherlock had enemies she could only wonder about. Her association with him didn’t put her at risk as much as Greg’s did, she hoped, but she couldn’t be sure.
But melancholy thoughts were washed from her mind when Jones offered her an arm and Hathaway one as well, and she linked an arm with each of them as they headed back to the pub. Thoughts of the future could keep for the time being. For now? It was time for them to take London and give it a whirl.
