Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lauren stepped into the office. The lights were still on, but no one was in. No one except Dodds. He sat at his desk, hunched over and staring at the screen. Light cast over his face and highlighted the crinkled sadness in the set out his mouth and a reflection in his eyes not disguised by his glasses.

No prizes for guessing what he was looking at.

Sergeant? She was about to ask before stopping herself. Maybe now wasn’t the time for formality. “Dodds?” she asked, stepping towards his desk.

His head snapped up and he quickly swivelled his chair around. She watched as he put his glasses up on top of his head and wiped his eyes. She crossed over in four steps, coming to stand behind him. Dodds turned back around. He seemed to do a double take when he noticed her standing so close, but his usual surprised reaction was muted. Dammit, why hadn’t she noticed this earlier? It’d been weeks since Jinxy’s death. She’d assumed he was fine. He’d seemed fine, in all honesty.

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder before going over to the kitchen. Her initial plan had been to grab her laptop and go home, but it was clear her impromptu evening plans had been disrupted.

A cup of tea wasn’t cutting it right now. She opened the bottom right cupboard and pulled out the bottle of whiskey Ormond had left there. It was for bad days, she had said. Well, this certainly counted as a bad day. She poured some into a glass for Dodds. She’d driven over on her own and had every intention of driving him back to his house. With the glass in one hand and an only slightly stale chocolate hobnob in the other, Lauren went back to Dodds.

He’d barely moved in the time she’d been gone. The only evidence was that his computer now showed Google Maps, flicked open to a random location. She set the glass down next to him with a small thump. “Dodds,” she said, without a hint of austerity, “are you alright?”

“Fine, ma’am,” he said with a small nod. Tentatively he reached for the biscuit and started to nibble on it. Lauren relaxed a little and hopped up to sit on the desk. “You know I’m not leaving until you drink that too,” she said, nodding to the glass.

Dodds’ brow furrowed. “May I ask why, ma’am?”

“Because,” she replied, raising an eyebrow, “you’re tense and the alcohol will make you relax. Look, I would’ve brought you chips if I knew,” she explained, pulling a small, fleeting smile from him. “Drink up.”

For a long moment he just stared at the glass before taking a small sip. When he’d finished about half of it he wordlessly offered it to her.

“Nope,” Lauren said. “I drove here. Not drinking and driving.” He looked up in shock, clearly having just remembered that he drove to work as well. “I’ll drive you home,” she confirmed.

Dodds nodded. “O-Okay. Thank you, ma’am.”

Any time, she thought, seeing a contented look settle onto his face. The thought surprised her. Dodds wasn’t someone she’d expected to like when she transferred, with all his quirks and odd manner of speaking, but here she was, watching him drink a glass of whiskey after one of his best mates died.

She realised he’d slowly become her best mate. And she found she didn’t mind it at all.