God is in the Details

There are some cases where you sit so long at your desk, hunched over, leafing through old reports, hoping that one of them will give you some clue, some hint about what to do. Your eyes get adjusted to the smoke-filled room and your back feels permanently curved. These are the overnighters, the oil burners, the missing kids and the apparently motiveless murders.

The room goes quiet and you realize that everyone else is asleep or gone. It's only you left, Sam, only you continuing the investigation, counting against the clock. After twenty four hours, her odds are infinitesimal. It's been thirty six. Everyone else has given up. No, not everyone. The Gov is out busting heads somewhere, trying to find answers his way.

The sound of the door opening draws you from your thoughts and you look up, the muscles of your neck protesting at the strain they've been under. It's Annie, and that makes things better, because you can picture the gentle smile she's about to give you; the gentle smile that seems made just for you. She doesn't.

“Sam.” Her voice is soft and sad. You swallow past the newly formed lump in your throat, and blink, hoping she won't say what you know she's about to. “The Gov's found her, Sam. She's...”

It's a small kindness that she doesn't finish. This is the sort of truth that doesn't need to be expressed in words; it sits in your gut and sets fire to your brain, and all you can think about is how you failed little Jill Turner, who's supposed to turn sixteen next month.

You nod, and clear your throat to hide the tears, and spend the next few minutes getting necessary details from her before you grab your coat and head for the pub. It's the only place to be just now. You can get a DC to finish up the paperwork and put things back in order.

She walks with you, quietly, and you want to hold her hand. You wonder if WDC Cartwright knows just how lovely she is, and just how much she makes this place bearable. “Annie,” you start, but before you can finish, the Gov and Chris and Ray are there, and their expressions match your own, and the five of you walk silently towards the Railway Arms.

Word Count: 390