Chapter Text
Musical inspo: As You Fly - Regina Price
“She stared at the stars like they were pillow for her mind and in their light, she could rest her heavy head.” ― Christopher Poindexter
“Gibson, you’re supposed to be on leave.” She heard her boss DCS Chris George’s voice smirk in a playful scolding from behind her.
Stella had her back to her office doorway and was shuffling the Spector paperwork into the open drawer of her solid filing cabinet by the window when she heard him over her shoulder and glanced his way.
“Afternoon Sir.” She turned and greeted his playful remark neutrally in a calm voice over her shoulder while still shuffling some loose papers into a file. He stepped into the open threshold with today’s newspaper tucked under his arm and his phone in his hands.
After her fulfilling lunch she felt simultaneously revitalised as well as content and seeing as she hadn’t had a decent meal in ages, she could tell her body was grateful for the nutrition. She had only been here a few minutes sorting the rest of her notes from Belfast when he spied her. The main evidence and casefile documentation would be kept with PSNI in Northern Ireland but she always made her own private notes as a precaution, in case she ever needed to refer to them at a later date. There was always the potential for future cases to be linked or copycats to appear later down the line.
“I don’t want to see you poking about here for the next few weeks hoping I can throw you a bone.” He continued somewhat exasperated by her. “If you’re bored, go… on holiday, or get a hobby.” He added searching for suggestions before she could reply.
She chuckled slightly as she answered. “I have several.” She knew he would react like this, she had a history of returning to duty sooner than the usual allocated time. She was expecting some protestation, and she couldn’t help but encourage it. “…but the bones you throw me are interesting.” She smirked at him coyly as a veiled reference to the impossibly difficult cases he often sends in her direction. She wasn’t usually one for office banter, but she was feeling good and made a rare exception for him.
He gave her a look that spelled mischievous trouble and flipped through the newspaper pulling a page out and folding it before he tossed the Sudoku puzzle from The Daily Mail squarely in the centre of her desk. “Here…” He challenged. “…solve this instead, I have nothing else for you.” He added lifting his hands in the air as a mock surrender.
She smiled glancing down at it and pushed the filing cabinet drawer closed. If only he knew how much she hated maths, or perhaps he did, and it was another stab at her. She liked this game.
“I’m only here to drop off my paperwork from the Spector case.” She gave, turning around. “I didn’t want it lying around the house.” She replied truthfully, keeping her features unreadable as she moved back behind her desk. “I’ve made plans to lie on a beach in Spain.” She lied, continuing to toy with him sarcastically, still keeping her tone convincingly dead serious as she shuffled some of the paperwork resting there. “It is summer after all, that puzzle might come in handy when I’m sunbathing.” She indicated towards the Sudoku and then eyed him with an ever so slightly sly smile playing into his banter.
She was aware he knew damn sure she wasn’t going to Spain. After several years working under him, he knew her well enough to know there was no way she would stoop as low as a stereotypical week on a beach in a tourism hot spot like Ibiza. She chuckled and watched him shake his head of the nonsense as he left her office.
Now that she had mentioned it, spending time swimming in the Mediterranean wasn’t all that unappealing to her. Images of yellow sands and crystal aqua blue sparkling water formed in her mind, and she allowed herself to ponder the possibility of a trip away before turning back to the files on her desk. It had been far too many years since she had swum in the ocean, and it would be a nice change for her to feel the pull of the tide and the salt on her skin; but she still had other things to handle.
Despite the light-hearted exchange with her boss, she knew he had more important things to be getting on with. He likely had several major operations running including the missing Notting Hill boy, the taskforce for the seven prior murders, and finalising the Kensington case. Any one of which could be reaching a critical point. She shifted the Sudoku aside and stood to follow him into his office.
She leaned a shoulder against his doorway so as not to impose herself on whatever he was working on. “If you’re curious to know how the Spector inquest went, I can fill you in now if you have the time?” She asked casually, crossing her arms.
“I do.” He followed with glancing up at her as he sat down. “They sent you back, so I assume it blew over with no further issue.” He replied nonchalantly.
She nodded. “Something like that.” She broke eye contact glancing around the office, she didn’t feel the need to elaborate on how much of a fiasco that was for her. “Eastwood’s handling it and they’re focusing on the Foyle at the moment.” She added slightly uncomfortably.
“I’ll review the rest of the files when I hear back from PSNI about the outcome of the inquest.” Chris replied quietly, not showing much interest in probing further.
Sensing a need not to go into detail she instead decided to change the subject. “What happened with the Kensington kidnapping? I saw on the news he was found.” She queried tentatively.
“According to the media its closed.” Chris began darkly, looking up towards her. “…but unofficially we’re still investigating it in connection to the seven prior murders. McGuire has Detective Miller doing some further interviews.” He began with. “I approved her movement to join the taskforce on your behalf, I hope you don’t mind that he borrows her for a while.” His tone was professional and relaxed as he rested his forearms on the desk in front of him and fiddled with a pen.
“Its fine.” She shrugged lightly. “She’s got good instincts, so she’ll serve him well.” She paused before continuing. “Any progress with the missing Notting Hill boy?” She asked, out of polite curiosity. She knew it was an active investigation, but she hoped he would fill her in a little seeing as he called for her opinion a few days ago. Especially because Miller would likely still be looking at a possible link to the Kensington case and might ask for further assistance.
“It’s a bit of a mess actually.” He started shaking his head in frustration. “Not so much the case.” He clarified. “McGuire’s got some staffing issues that I don’t have time to fully run you through, but I need another two detectives.” He added with a hint of defeat in his voice.
It gave her a glimmer of satisfaction that he trusted her with things like this. It was refreshing that given the events of the past few weeks he still trusted her and treated her like an equal part of the unit. She felt valued by being kept in the loop, despite not being able to actively take part. “It sounds challenging. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” She offered knowing full well she couldn’t participate, but she still might be of assistance just lending an ear.
“Actually, there might be.” Chris’s brows furrowed as he considered his options. “Close the door.” He added softly lifting a hand and gesturing for her to enter.
“Are you familiar with Det. Fletcher Jones and Sgt. Mallory Ashley? They’re two detectives paired together downstairs in homicide.” He queried as Stella clicked the door shut and sank into an industrial grey wool blend armchair opposite him.
She crossed her legs and glanced up at him before answering. “I met Jones at a crime scene last year sometime, he came across as a bit of an overconfident hotshot with expensive taste, and a fondness for fast cars.” She gave her opinion without holding back. “I don’t know Ashley at all.” She shrugged honestly.
Chris nodded. “They were the two original detectives investigating one of the seven prior cases I sent you. The inspector in Homicide offered them for appointment to the current operation in Notting Hill in case it could be linked to the other murders, but before the paperwork caught up for the movement a formal complaint was filed by Ashley against Jones for sexual misconduct.” He paused to take a breath as his tone turned more defeated. “I need to re-assign them to keep them separate on the taskforce and DSU McGuire is trying to keep a close eye on them. Both of us don’t think it’s a good idea to still have them working in such proximity until the internal investigation unfolds.” He finished.
“I see.” She nodded in understanding as she followed along. Given what small part of Jones’ personality she witnessed she wouldn’t put it past him. Thinking back to when she met him, she wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out that he was compromised or into drugs. If it was her investigation, she would want him reassigned immediately. “Have you spoken to either of them about it?” She asked professionally, seeking a little more background.
“Not directly. Word is there’s a bit of bad blood between them over an incident and subsequent disagreement from one of their previous cases.” He began slowly lounging back in his chair contemplatively as he continued. “It could be nothing, but it could have the potential to compromise the current operation if this blows up. I’ve left it up to the HR investigators to sort out with internal affairs before instigating a suspension. In the meantime, if you’re able to have a poke around and see what you can dig up in the next day or two about each of them, that would be helpful.” He added still fidgeting with the pen in his left hand.
She nodded, grateful there was something she could do. He really did have his hands full. “Pair Miller with Jones if you get a chance.” She suggested thoughtfully. “I’ll be interested to hear what she has to say about him.” She added. “She’ll be open with me about what he’s like.”
He nodded understandingly and gazed momentarily at his desk as an indication that he was ready to turn his attention back to the work at hand.
“Theres something else…” She redirected hesitantly. When he didn’t object, she continued after a beat. “Do we have anyone out near Cardiff at the moment?” She asked somewhat cautiously.
“Why?” Chris queried lightly glancing up at her curiously.
Stella sighed before continuing. “Theres a family DV issue brewing out there that I may require some back up with handling.” She replied without making eye contact. “Given my current state of health, I don’t feel equipped to deal with a confrontation and rather would avoid it all together.” She added, letting her vulnerability show and meeting his gaze.
He glanced at her and examined her contemplatively while continuing to fiddle with his pen absentmindedly. “McGuire’s got personnel out there to conduct some interviews soon, you should give him a ring.” He suggested sympathetically.
“Thank you.” She muttered and nodded in farewell before unfolding herself from the chair and departing, leaving him to his paperwork.
When she stepped through her front door later that afternoon, tiredness flooded over her with every step she took. As she tossed her keys on the hall table and moved towards the stairs, she could feel weariness and nausea rising within, as her body begged for rest. She only intended to be home long enough to collect her things for a swim, and perhaps have a quick snack, but was now realising that may not be the best idea. She knew she needed to start prioritising the needs of the little life within her and right now her body was demanding it.
After depositing her briefcase on the dining table, she pulled a muesli bar and ginger teabag from the pantry before flicking on the kettle. As she was leaving the office earlier, she sent a quick text to McGuire regarding Cardiff but couldn’t get through to Det. Miller to touch base before she begins her stint as Jones’ partner on the taskforce. Operation Iuventis was now in full swing with personnel pouring over witness statements and catalogued evidence from the seven prior boy’s cold cases. Many members of staff were now also conducting follow up interviews which meant there was a significant portion of the taskforce out of the office. It was no surprise that she couldn’t reach Miller.
While her tea steeped, she set up her laptop on the coffee table and sent a quick email to her Detective. She then spent several minutes browsing various web articles on pregnancy and motherhood, while she sipped at her tea, adding to her extensive anthropological and medical knowledge-base. She found herself pouring over scientific articles filled with medical jargon and the visceral realism of what she had ahead of her. After delving down a rabbit hole of unfavourable statistics for certain complications in a nursing and midwifery journal she decided to leave it alone and indulge in some online shopping.
She was considering a new pair of shoes when a surge of intense nausea hit her as rapidly as a kick to the gut. She only just had time to leap up and run into the kitchen before she was sick. Gripping the edge of the counter her stomach heaved as she leaned forward, remnants of her masticated muesli bar mixed with ginger tea spilled into the kitchen sink. She now understood the reason for all those pop culture references to pregnant women puking in random locations, sometimes it hit with no apparent warning. A combination of the stench and the bitter taste of acid still in her mouth caused her to hurl again in disgust. She clumsily reached forward and felt for the tap, turning it on to rinse it away and clear her mouth. How foolish of her to think she could’ve made it through the rest of the day without being ill. She thought as she took a breath. As disappointed as she was, she felt gracious that this didn’t happen while she was at the office or on the train home. Finding herself needing to puke in an ‘Underground’ station toilet would be an embarrassingly new low for her.
She cupped a shaky hand under the stream of water helping to rinse the sink and lifted it to her lips. She felt jittery as she lapped at the cool fresh water and let it run for a few moments while she leaned against the counter. A minute or two ticked by until she heard her phone buzz from the coffee table which snapped her from the momentary daze. She turned off the tap before reaching for the tea towel hanging on the stove to dry her hands and mouth before moving into the living room to collect her phone.
A text from Anna was resting on the screen begging for her attention but she sighed and chose to ignore it for the moment. She hadn’t yet had a chance to put together a plan with McGuire for when she returned to Wales. Letting out a deep breath, she tossed the phone back onto the coffee table without opening the message. Thinking she should get a proper rest and lie down up for a nap she flipped her laptop closed, neglecting to close the browser window featuring multiple pairs of sleek black business heels, and returned it to her briefcase on the dining table. Her stomach had settled somewhat but she felt hauntingly empty and knew she would be starving hungry if the nausea subsided. Having something to eat may even help it settle.
Returning to the kitchen she rifled through the pantry for something appetising and emerged with a tin of peaches in nectar. Normally she would’ve used them for a dessert recipe but this afternoon it seemed like a tasty accompaniment to her left-over porridge in the fridge from earlier. She cracked open the tin and sipped at the nectar while her porridge warmed in the microwave. It was extremely sweet and strong but tasted heavenly which was enough to pique her hunger and left her wanting.
She fell back onto the couch with the bowl and worked her way through it slowly. Her stomach did indeed settle with each mouthful and by the time she finished the last mouthful she felt sleepy. Neglecting to wash the bowl she left it sitting on the coffee table before lying back contently and letting herself drift off.
When she awoke, the house was dark with the only light creeping in being from the illuminated streetlamp across the road. The blinds were still open and the world outside her living room window was dark, the road a glistening wet black telling her it had been raining. Slightly confused and feeling suspiciously well rested she concluded her nap had lasted longer into the evening than she was expecting. Sitting up by shifting her feet to the floor, she lifted her phone from where it was resting on the coffee table and checked the time. It was low on battery and there were a couple of missed calls on the screen from Anna, McGuire, and Miller. Thinking it wasn’t too late, she was shocked to see the bright numerals staring up at her read ‘03:16’, and she had been asleep for close to twelve hours.
Sighing she lifted her fingertips to her face and rubbed her eyes before letting out a gentle yawn and stretched. She was stiff all over with a couple of achy muscles from having unintentionally slept on the couch for so long. As she moved towards the kitchen, she contemplated what to do with her morning. Sunrise was at least two hours away and it seemed foolish to head upstairs to bed given how long she had already slept. The nausea was thankfully absent, and she could do with a swim, as she had been yearning for one for so long.
She flicked on the kettle while she thought, lifting a bag of English breakfast from the jar on the counter. Tilting her head to the side she stretched the stiff muscle in her neck tentatively and decided it was best to have a quiet day at home. When the water rolled to a boil, she poured it over the teabag and watched the clear liquid turn amber as it spilled into the mug. She carried it upstairs while it steeped to the desired strength and left it to cool on her bedside table while she took a shower.
The water was heavenly on her stiff muscles, and she could feel the tension relaxing as the warm water flowed over her neck and back. She could feel the stress from the last few weeks was melting away little by little and hoped she could now focus on enjoying a new calmer pace.