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Y HALLO THAR. :B
LOL fanfic chapter 1 whut.
Detective Inspector Peter Carlisle sat at his desk yet again, chewing on the remnants of that morning's breakfast. He tapped his foot slowly as he lifted the spoon out of the now empty cereal bowl for a minute inspection out of sheer, unadulterated... boredom. Peter's mind was sharp, about as sharp as they came where he was from, but that also meant he was bored easily. And when he was bored... he ate. Same as if a case were going well, if he was low on energy, or just because he wanted to eat. And the current case? There was no current case. That's why he was bored, of course. Absolutely nothing to do. Well, he could always try the Internet... nope. Nothing there that ever really caught his eye. So far, at least.

So, he resigned himself to tapping his spoon idly on the desk. Maybe if he tapped loud enough, his DCI would hear him and give him something to do. Do I really want to be run around town on pointless errands? Peter put the spoon back in the bowl with a sharp clank. He could always call up Natalie, but that would lead to him wanting to go home. It worked the first couple of times, but his DCI was starting to catch on to him.

He lifted himself out of his seat and strolled to the office door, yawning as he turned the knob. He sauntered out of the office, and into a near empty hallway. Peter decided never to work on weekends again. Unless there was a case, of course. Even to him, the lack of human contact was a bit overwhelming. He wandered to the staff room where the rest of the team usually hid themselves away during a long, boring shift. Peter usually stayed away from them, because when he was around, they made a game out of who could bring up the Mike Hooley case the most times before making him too annoyed. He flopped down into a seat at the table with the others, emitting a soft groan when he rested his head on the smooth surface. They looked at him for a second, wondering why he decided to join them, and Blythe, Peter's partner, decided to speak first.

“So, the 'lone wolf' decides to emerge from it's den and join the rest of the pack?”

“Shut up, Blythe.”

“Well, someone's testy.” Blythe smirked. “What's the matter now?”

“Bored. And falling asleep, so if you don't mind me, I'm going t'put a fresh pot of coffee on. You lot look like you need a fresh dose of it too.”

He lifted himself from the table and strolled over to the counter at one side of the room, quickly switching the old coffee pot in the machine for a new, clean one. How they managed to botch up making coffee, he'd never know, but he kept his thoughts to himself and managed to make a pot of the stuff without making a mess. He'd have to teach Blythe soon, he'd forgotten a few times. Making coffee in that department was looked upon an a pseudo-tradition, handed down from DI to DC. That, and Blythe couldn't throw together a potable cup to save his life.

“Carlisle, doesn't the Super usually do that?”

“Shush, Blythe, or I'll slip some morphine into this batch.” Peter smirked. “Wouldn't want that now, would we? Although it'd make for an interesting morning, for me at least.”

“How long have you been on that stuff?”

“Had to start up again recently because of a new set of wounds, but I haven't been on it for four years by now.”

“Really? What new set?”

Peter sat down and set the finished pot of coffee on the table after pouring himself a cup. He rolled up one of his pant legs a little bit, showing off a bandage.

“Burn wounds. Remember when I disappeared a little while back? Found a new place to try and figure out whenever I'm bored. Course, I'd drop by now but, it's so early none of the others'd be there now.”

“How do we know they're actual-”

Blythe was interrupted by Peter lifting up a section of the uncovered bandage, revealing a burn wound, almost healed by now, but still pretty severe.

“... How in seven hells did you manage that?”

“If you want t'know, come with me the next time I go where I usually frequent.”

“If it does that to you, no way.”





 
 
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