#set 37

X: long night

Rory looked at his young first officer, doubtfully. “Is everything all right, Douglas?”

A pair of impossibly wide eyes turned to meet his own. “Everything’s great, why?”

“You seem a bit… wired, that’s all.”

“Oh!” Douglas said with a wave of a hand. “I can explain that one, yeah. It’s been a long night! You know that funny coffee I tried on the layover in Sumatra?”

“Yes…”

“Well, I haven’t actually been to sleep since.”

Rory frowned. “We got back from Sumatra on Wednesday.”

“So?”

“Today’s Saturday.”

Douglas seemed unperturbed by this. “They were right when they said it was really strong, anyway.”

VIII: impromptu musical

It was Arthur who started it, naturally - singing to himself over the sound of the hoover at first, but not altering the volume (tremendous) even slightly once his chores were done.

Douglas listened with interest, and once he discerned what the tune was supposed to be (based mainly on what he could gather from the words), he joined in. Martin was more hesitant, but soon he too was singing along.

IX: swapped possessions

Arthur’s clothes are quite loose on him, and each of his pockets contains a different, but equally useless, collection of random objects, Martin’s discovered. In one, there’s a glasses wipe (even though Arthur doesn’t wear glasses), two Danish krone strung on a piece of ribbon, a broken safety-pin, a Blu-tac snail, two googly eyes of different sizes, a crinkled-up party horn, and five penlids - without a single pen in sight.

VI: combat practice

Detective Inspector Carolyn Knapp-Shappey surveyed her troops, somewhat doubtfully.

"Remember," she said, "The aim of this training day is to practice our combat skills, our hostage negotiation tactics, and our teamwork. Not to see who can perform the most intricate homage to a crime drama."

Douglas raised a hand.

"Or a war film," Carolyn continued hastily, "Or any source material other than the instructions I'm holding in my hands. Is that understood?"

Everyone nodded - even Douglas, grudgingly.

VII: wrong place

The town, when they reach it, is deathly silent - no movement in the streets, no voices to be heard. The sun is out, but when Arthur shivers, Carolyn knows exactly what he means. The emptiness gives it a chilly atmosphere, somehow. 

“Have we come to the wrong place?” Arthur asks, looking around at the crumbling old buildings.

“No. Right place...” Carolyn looks at her watch. “Wrong time. Again.” 

She turns back the way they came. “We just need to come back a few years ago.” More quietly, she adds, “And we need to find our pilots.” 

II: accidental parenthood

All the way home from the doctor’s surgery, she wonders how to tell Gordon. Whether to make a show of elation, or nonchalance, or to approach him honestly with her own mixed feelings.

If only he wasn’t so damned unpredictable. Some days, she knows he daydreams about extending the company name to “Shappey and Son” - at other times, she can’t imagine a man less suited to fatherhood.

And in a way, they match. She’s never seen herself as mother material - the entire concept is oddly daunting, and she’s unused to being daunted, ever.