On the Second Day of Christmas
Dec. 26th, 2005 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
franceslievensPart 1
A woman's body was found in the canal that morning. She was naked, apart from a silver necklace. Greasy fingers thumbed through the small shreds of evidence that were assembled. Ladies skinnydipping in the canal usually didn't mean suicide. People tend to leave their clothes on in that case – makes the body heavier.
“Sir?” The fat guy didn't look up. “Sir?” The voice was more pressing this time. “You aren't allowed to look into that, sir. I think...”
“You think what, punk?” Lower ranked constables shouldn't mess with him.
“Gavarni!” This time he did look up, directly into the eyes of his former superintendent. “We don't need help from the cripple. Get out, now!” His body shrunk several centimeters.
When Sonja, the desk clerk, had let him in yesterday to eat turkey and Christmas pudding with the guys on duty, he'd forgotten what he had become: a cripple. They had welcomed the entertainment of the fat guy. He'd almost thought he wasn't superfluous. It was like the old days again, when they needed him, gave him the hard cases to crack. Back then he didn't scamper around the police station looking for evidence laying about, little things to play with until some superior threw him out. He did that a lot these days: come in, wander about the office a bit and then get yelled at. Things were better yesterday. But things were always better with Sonja behind the reception desk. She didn't mind him, the fat guy who had helped her get this job so many years ago. He smiled at her when he passed her desk going outside. All he got in return was a disgusted look from some blonde chick. Of course Sonja wasn't there after Christmas duty. It was that other one. What's her name? Sheryl? Ashley? At least something suited for a blonde bimbo.
Outside he gave in to the pain in his back he'd been ignoring since this morning and leaned against the wall. “Too proud to use a cane,” he thought. He didn't let his mind form the words for that other thought: too proud to go looking for something else to do. Instead he went over the little bits of information he had been able to gather that morning: a woman, in her mid twenties to early thirties, found in the canal, completely naked. She's still wearing a plain silver necklace. No-one knows who she is and where she comes from. The rest of the crew consider it suicide. “I'll figure out who you are and what happened to you,” Gavarni muttered, “And if I can't, at least it'll keep me busy for a little while.”
He groaned when he tried to stand up straight again. A little voice said this body had had its best days. He should consider quitting this life. He shook his head and pushed that voice away, back to the dark place where it came from.
A woman's body was found in the canal that morning. She was naked, apart from a silver necklace. Greasy fingers thumbed through the small shreds of evidence that were assembled. Ladies skinnydipping in the canal usually didn't mean suicide. People tend to leave their clothes on in that case – makes the body heavier.
“Sir?” The fat guy didn't look up. “Sir?” The voice was more pressing this time. “You aren't allowed to look into that, sir. I think...”
“You think what, punk?” Lower ranked constables shouldn't mess with him.
“Gavarni!” This time he did look up, directly into the eyes of his former superintendent. “We don't need help from the cripple. Get out, now!” His body shrunk several centimeters.
When Sonja, the desk clerk, had let him in yesterday to eat turkey and Christmas pudding with the guys on duty, he'd forgotten what he had become: a cripple. They had welcomed the entertainment of the fat guy. He'd almost thought he wasn't superfluous. It was like the old days again, when they needed him, gave him the hard cases to crack. Back then he didn't scamper around the police station looking for evidence laying about, little things to play with until some superior threw him out. He did that a lot these days: come in, wander about the office a bit and then get yelled at. Things were better yesterday. But things were always better with Sonja behind the reception desk. She didn't mind him, the fat guy who had helped her get this job so many years ago. He smiled at her when he passed her desk going outside. All he got in return was a disgusted look from some blonde chick. Of course Sonja wasn't there after Christmas duty. It was that other one. What's her name? Sheryl? Ashley? At least something suited for a blonde bimbo.
Outside he gave in to the pain in his back he'd been ignoring since this morning and leaned against the wall. “Too proud to use a cane,” he thought. He didn't let his mind form the words for that other thought: too proud to go looking for something else to do. Instead he went over the little bits of information he had been able to gather that morning: a woman, in her mid twenties to early thirties, found in the canal, completely naked. She's still wearing a plain silver necklace. No-one knows who she is and where she comes from. The rest of the crew consider it suicide. “I'll figure out who you are and what happened to you,” Gavarni muttered, “And if I can't, at least it'll keep me busy for a little while.”
He groaned when he tried to stand up straight again. A little voice said this body had had its best days. He should consider quitting this life. He shook his head and pushed that voice away, back to the dark place where it came from.
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 12:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 12:35 pm (UTC)It's my present to my flist. :-)
no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 01:42 pm (UTC)One typo I spotted: criple should be spelled cripple.
You know I only read BtVS fics, but 'cause it's you...
*winks, then thinks that mebbe Frances will be inspired to take on Buffy & Spike soon too*
no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 03:43 pm (UTC)I wrote about Gavarni in my Christmas story from last year. If you want to read that go to the memories section (http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=frances_lievens&keyword=A+Christmas+Story+in+8+Parts&filter=all) of my LJ.
Hey, don't you like my story?? Only Spuffy, hey... I don't usually write fanfic. Did an attempt at Spangel once. PB was thrilled. Don't know if I could actually write Spuffy. Spani or Spinnit sounds easier (and more interesting) *g*.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-26 03:55 pm (UTC)Yeah I know I'm becoming greedy...
no subject
Date: 2005-12-27 03:30 am (UTC)I'll see what I can do...