A/n So this was supposed to be an entirely different story, it was supposed to be a silly, short, one-shot, based off of something that was said in the episode with the Nadia Selim case, but that didn't happen. My fingers started typing that and this, angsty hurt/comfort Richard-centric character introspective monster of a one-shot was what emerged. Just a warning I have watched season one and season two so much, that all the information is jumbled in my head. This story is slightly AU because of character growth, so this is a 'what could have been' type of deal.

Two things before we get to the fic, one, apparently I see Catherine as a great person to comfort Richard, since in this one, and another one that I am writing I have her comfort him. This had no true basis for me in the show, I just like the way that Richard could be so rude to her, yet they had cute little scenes together despite it. It also might be to do with the fact that she is outside of his main circle and thus a bit more objective, but who knows.

Secondly, I wanted to address the comments I received on my first D in P story since they were all delivered without accounts to respond to. Like most fans I see, season three on as AU. I love Richard as a character and really wish they would have let the character go back to England or leave the show in a way other than death, just so he could pop up as a guest star later. The only reason I wrote that story was because it was in my head and I really liked the idea of Richard and Camille meeting in Heaven, and Richard being grumpy that he's dead.

Anyway this authors note is getting long and I want to end it before the note becomes as long as the fic. As always R and R.

It was several days after the Nadia Selim case concluded, which was more memorable as the day that Rosie was born. Fidel, Dwayne, and Camille had been giving Richard some space, seeing as he had been quite irritable as of late, but the tension had grown so thick that Camille had to put an end to it regardless of the ire she would incur.

"How long are you going to be upset about your suit?!" she bit out angrily. Dwayne and Fidel looked at one another, alarmed, not only by the yelling, but of what their boss would say back to her.

To the surprise of all three of them, he looked over with a puzzled expression. Sure he had been upset about his suit, but, even if he would never admit it, Rosie was adorable, and there was no way that he could hold a grudge against her. Any anger that he had felt had dissipated by the time he had gotten home and changed into clean clothes. Did they really think him bad enough to hold a grudge against a newborn?

The three other officers all noted the slightly hurt expression that had graced Richard's features for a a brief second and felt a rush of shame. This whole time they had thought the ruined suit was the cause of the tension at the station, none of them had even thought to think that it was something else on Richard's mind.

Now that Camille thought about it, she should have known that there was something else amiss. Richard could be petty at times, but she had forgotten just how forgiving he could be. He had been able to get past their rather rocky introduction and work with her, after all, and while he was quite rude, often time it was more to do with cultural differences and misunderstandings than a true desire to offend.

"I'm sorry, I just thought..." She shook her head with a sigh, there was no excuse she could offer that wouldn't seem like an insult. "I'm sorry," she apologized again unsure of what else to say.

Richard wasn't really that angry at her or the others. He was more upset with himself, sure it hurt to have ones that he considered friends, in his own mind, at least, think he was that petty, but that was a reflection on him wasn't it? It was due to his straitlaced, rigid, nature that they made such an assumption after all.

Not liking the depressed feel of the station, Fidel spoke up. "Is what upset you something to do with who you were trying to call that day?"

Richard sighed, and then decided to tell them. "I almost had my old job back," he said with another sigh. Only through speaking the words did he realize how they sounded. "It's not that I don't like any of you, I just, don't like the way that the Commissioner manipulates the situation to get me to stay here." Richard frowned as he finished speaking. All of what he had said was true, but, until he had voiced it, he hadn't realized just how much.

Despite his initial reservations, when he had first found out that he was going to be here for a while, which included manpower, transportation, and his ability to work with the three of them, he had settled into life here. He had not 'gone native' or allowed himself to forego tea and his suits, but there were a few compromises that he had made, not that many seemed to notice.

"Is England truly so much better than Sainte Marie?" Camille asked.

He glared at her, because she always got to the heart of the matter didn't she? Perhaps it was the overwhelming heat of the island frying his brain, but somehow he had began to idealize England. Sure he missed actual seasons, hot, too hot, hotter, and hottest, with some rain and hurricanes thrown in for variety, were not his ideal weather patterns, but aside from his parents, he truly missed nobody, and for all he didn't fit in on the island as a whole, he fit well in the station, with Camille, Dwayne, and Fidel. They all had their differences, but on the whole they were a team, and somehow, they had come to respect him, and more importantly, to like him, as he was.

Sure they dragged him out to La Kaz, but he allowed that for the most part, to the point that he only protested out of habit most days, and aside from that they only wished him to work on his mind to mouth filter, which was quite understandable given the closeness of the people on the island. It had taken him some time to notice that they did these things, not to change him, but to show him how nice the island could be.

Camille also tried to get him to stop wearing his suits, but that too was understandable given his biggest complaint was the heat and yet he stubbornly stuck to wearing such a heavy ensemble as they ran around solving cases.

They had taken time to learn his likes and dislikes, which many never did, and even accommodated them. He liked when they came over with beer and snacks and simply sat on the veranda at his bungalow. He liked when there was no case, and the four of them were at the station, because the other three would finish any work they were doing, pull over their chairs and sit around his desk. Sometimes they would ask him questions, and on other days when he simply didn't want to talk, they would speak to one another. They were not excluding him though, in these times they never did. After some time it even became somewhat of a game to see who could get him to enter the conversation first. They never used intentionally mean comments to rile him up though.

Richard smiled at the memory of Dwayne actually turning it into a game. The older man had complained that Richard like Camille and Fidel more, so he always joined conversations because of one of them. Thus began the monthly tally on the smaller whiteboard.

If he left, he would miss all of that, he would be alone again. No Camille, to push him into having fun or randomly appearing at his door so they could sit together. No Dwayne, complaining about how police work was interfering with his conquests, making all of them smile, because while Dwayne really did have an active calendar, he also valued the time crime solving with them. No Fidel, working so much harder than he needed to, putting in so much effort, with his praise and some gratitude as reward, and the smile it caused. He would even miss Catherine, because, despite not seeing eye to eye with her he couldn't imagine Sainte Marie without her.

What did he have in England? Cold weather and warm beer. Which mattered more? Was their any contest?

Finally, he remembered Camille's question. Was England truly so much better than Sainte Marie? No it wasn't.

He stood from his chair at the revelation, shaken to his very core that Sainte Marie, a place that he had only lived for about a year, a place he had been exiled to, was more of a home than England. "I... I'm going to take a walk," he said rushing out the door as quickly as he could.

Camille looked at Dwayne and Fidel. They looked as confused as she felt. What had just happened. The moment she asked the question she had expected a grumpy huff and an answer of 'of course it is,' or something synonymous with the phrase. Instead he had glared at her, and from that point he had many expression cross his face. There had been a momentary smile, then a melancholy look that had her feeling sad, then confusion and fear as he rushed away. Not for the first time, she wished that he didn't bottle his emotions so much because she would really like to understand what had went through his mind.

Richard ended up at La Kaz. After walking for a moment he had come to realize he didn't know much of the island. Sure he knew areas where he had investigated murders, but the only places that he was comfortable were, the station, Catherine's bar, and his beach side bungalow.

The moment he stepped inside, Catherine spotted him. Despite looking every bit the prim and proper Englishman, Catherine had a year of knowing him, and quite a few tears of being a mother, so she could tell that something had upset him and she knew it likely had something to do with why he had turned up at her bar, alone, in the middle of a work day. As such, she didn't needle him the way she would have normally, and guided him to a somewhat secluded seat in the corner.

Once there was a lull in patrons, she moved over to him. "Tea?" she asked. When he declined, she became even more concerned. Richard never said no to tea, not hers at any rate, seeing as she made it to his taste.

She sat down beside him quickly. "What is the matter Richard?" she asked.

"Why would you think something was wrong?" he asked in a last ditch effort to steer the conversation away.

"You refused tea, and you look as though you have had your spirit crushed." she answered quickly and candidly.

Well at least he knew where Camille had gotten her ability to go right to the heart of things. He sighed, knowing Catherine wasn't going to let it go, that was something else her daughter had inherited. "When I got to Saint Marie, I wanted nothing more than to go back to England. It was the only home I had ever known, and everything was so different here," he began.

Catherine nodded. She was well aware of just how out of place he had seemed, and sometimes still was.

"I recently had the chance to go back, to have my old job back too, but I didn't get to make the call in time."

"Ah, let me guess, Selwyn, had something to do with that?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "You know him well," he answered.

"That upset you, but that is not what brought you here today," she said, her tone, gently prompting him to speak.

Ah, the ability to make him confide, yet another common trait between mother and daughter. "Camille, Dwayne, and Fidel, didn't know about that, and they thought that I was upset by what happened to my suit."

So the thought, that they thought him so petty had put him on an emotional precipice, so what had pushed him off? She wondered.

"Then Camille asks me, is England truly better than Saint Marie."

"What did you say?" she questioned.

"Nothing. I wanted to say yes, of course, because why else would I want to go back, but I couldn't say that." His eyes, which had been downcast since he had began speaking, met hers, when she patted his hand in sympathy, and allowed her hand to rest atop his.

"Why couldn't you?" she asked gently, surprised and concerned that he had allowed the touch to go unquestioned.

He looked away again. Took a breath, as he realized how close he was to crying, sure he was upset, anyone would be if their world view had been altered as quickly and as much as his had, but he was an adult, there was no need to cry about it.

"The more I try to think about the reasons I want to go back the more childish they seem. I admit, my life was uprooted when I came here, I was transplanted halfway around the world after all, but what really angered me was the abandonment. My bosses had made decisions without consulting me, threw me to the Caribbean and hoped for the best. I realized, I didn't really want to go back, I just didn't want to be here. Even that wasn't completely true though, because if I really hated here so much, I could have quit, I have decent skills and other interests, I could have become a PI or a science teacher, there were many options, there might have been some challenges, but I could have overcame them, so why didn't I do that?

"I never tried to be happy here, in fact I forced myself to be the opposite, but today I saw that even though I was vocal about how much I didn't like this island, I am happy here. I feel like this is my home, and I don't want to leave this place or the people that somehow put up with me despite my faults. I've become attached to Sainte Marie, but I could be sent away at any time."

Catherine's ear was fine enough to hear what he hadn't said. He was scared, abandonment seemed to be something that he had far too much experience with, and now he was saddled with the fear that he could lose this position and thus be abandoned by Sainte Marie.

It was as though she were seeing Richard for the first time. He had such a hard shell, it was easy to miss just how fragile could be. The more she got to know him, the more it was seemingly a miracle he was as composed as he often was.

"There is no shame in being happy, Richard." She asserted.

"That sounds like something Camille would say." he replied softly.

"Then I taught her well." Catherine said with a smile. "There is also no shame in allowing personal growth. Sometimes, we think we know what we want, and where we are going in life, but sometimes life changes, and what we want changes too."

"But what if..." he trailed off, with a slight blush.

"What if..." she prompted.

"What if it's too much of a change?"

Catherine would never admit it, except to her daughter perhaps, but in this moment of openness and insecurity she thought Richard as absolutely adorable. She didn't let that thought show, knowing he would clam right up if she did. "If your happiness is not harming someone, why should anyone be reluctant to accept that change?"

"Do you really think so?"

She nodded. "In fact, I know for certain, that it will make at least five people happy, to have you happy."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Richard started to get up, only to be stopped by the hand that still rested on his.

"I know you have a lot to think about, but make sure you speak to your friends soon, I can say for certain they are worried, especially after the way you left the station."

"Thank you Catherine."

"You are most welcome, Richard."

He had been gone for an hour and a half, and Camille was truly contemplating going out to find him. She hadn't liked the way he looked when he had left, and the longer he was away the more she started to worry. Just as she was going to go out and look for him, Richard returned to the station. He didn't look at any of them as he made his way over to his desk and sat in his chair.

Now that he was back he didn't exactly know how to say what he needed to. They would think him crazy if he came right out and said what he was feeling and it was infinitely more likely he would choke on the words or somehow insult them, possibly even both. He had briefly considered sending them an e-mail, but that was too impersonal. Suddenly, his gaze caught the whiteboard and he knew what to do.

Jumping up, as he often did when inspiration struck, he went over to the board and picked up a marker. With it he drew a 2x2 chart. In the corner he posed the question that Camille had asked him. Is England better than Sainte Marie? In the first column slot he wrote England and in the second he wrote Sainte Marie. In the first row he wrote pros and the second was labeled cons.

Under pros for England he listed: seasons, first home, parents, and familiarity. Under cons he listed: Alone, disrespected, subconsciously forced contentment and -here he hesitated, debating if he wanted to reveal as much as he would with the next words, before deciding that he had to- invokes normopathic tendencies.

Under pros for Sainte Marie he listed: Camille, Dwayne, Fidel, Catherine, Harry, La Kaz, happiness, acceptance, adventure, showing off talents, and being useful. Under cons he listed: heat, hurricanes,feelings of isolation, waking to animals in his bed, initially forced to stay, and Catherine. What could he say the woman was a double-edged sword.

He stood back and surveyed his work. Looking objectively as he was able, he could see that Sainte Marie was better for him. While England had less cons, the significance of the ones he had listed made them weigh heavier.

The truth was, as much as he had wanted to go back, he had been drifting through life in his homeland, had he stayed he would have only faded into the background more than he already had, and that type of isolation could lead to depression, and unsavory behavior.

Sainte Marie, had turned his life upside down, but it had also given him purpose, he meant something here. People liked him, they weren't just apathetic, they genuinely liked him, grumpiness and all. He had friends, he was changing, he relaxed more, his job was important to him, but it was no longer all he was.

Ah, the other three were studying his work, it made him feel shy, but at the same time happy because now, for better or worse, they would know. He wondered who would be the first to speak. His money was on Camille, because, Fidel often found it hard to start a conversation with him about anything other than work, and Dwayne preferred to listen and gaze sympathetically.

He sat at his desk and waited. It seemed as though time was in slow motion, the way they continued to stare at his pro/con table. The longer they stared at the board though, the angrier he became. Didn't they understand what he had done. He had laid himself out ther for their perusal and they didn't say anything? He stood with the intention of wiping the board and going home, when all three of them looked at him and his anger quickly deflated.

They were looking at him with pity, pity and sadness. So much pity and sadness, more than he felt was warranted.

He flushed with embarrassment. "Maybe I should have left out the cons? I just thought it more fair to have pros and cons for each place so that I could answer the question that Camille asked. What I can conclude is that while I loved England, Sainte Marie is the better place for me. I get to use forensic tricks, show off my scientific prowess, and-" he babbled.

As he spoke he began to reconsider. What if he was misreading the expressions? He looked at the board and wondered what could have upset them. Ah, it might have been that he put Catherine as a pro and a con. "If this is about Catherine being on the list as a pro and a con, it's only because she can be really nice to me and then be really mad at me, admittedly, it is almost always my fault, but the point still stands."

"It's not about my mother, Richard," Camille said.

Richard frowned. Okay, so perhaps the looks had been of pity and sadness. He read over the list again, he had listed some things that would embarrass him, but there was nothing that should have had this kind of affect on them.

Oh good, now they were looking at him even more sadly. He decided that he would just have to ask if he wanted to understand. "Ah, right, not your mother, so what is it then?"

In any other circumstance he would have been happy about the ability to render Camille speechless. A few seconds later he was caught in a sudden embrace. It seemed that today was his day for comfort via Bordey.

He stood stiffly for a moment not quite knowing what to do with his arms, then tentatively he placed them around Camille and rested his hands on her back. It was somewhat awkward, but he wouldn't deny that it was nice.

As caught up as he was in the hug, he failed to see Dwayne and Fidel's movements before the four of them were squished in a group hug, with Richard in the center.

A few seconds later he was sure he shared a passing resemblance to a lobster, and was literally a stuttering wreck. Apparently, his embarrassment served to sever the tension in the room, because first, Camille, still locked in his arms, laughed. Then Dwayne and Fidel, joined her. Richard was torn between trying to regain some dignity, becoming more embarrassed, and laughing at the situation himself.

In the end he was certain it was a mixture of the three, as he buried his face in Camille's shoulder, and he too, began to laugh.

The others paused in their laughter for a moment, in the shock of hearing a genuine laugh from their boss that had nothing to do with a strike of inspiration, and just as suddenly rejoined him. They stayed like that until they heard the click of a camera.

All four looked up to find Catherine standing by Fidel's desk, wearing a huge smile. " I came to see if Richard had returned," she explained.

As the four of them parted, Richard was sure they would talk about all of this later, be it together or individually, but for now it was enough, that he had made himself understood, and if everyone got a copy of that photo as a souvenir of that understanding, well that was their business.

A/n2 This was so hard to end, although, I had most of it written in a few hours, the ending just would not happen, but I finally finished it, and I am really happy with it although the characters ended up a bit OOC. Oh and for any who wonders why Catherine walked into the station with a camera, she wanted to check up on them and was going to use reporting a 'lost camera' as an excuse.