Title: That which we have not deeply thought about

Rating: T

Category: Fluff, angst, romance, Richard/Camille

Summary: He'd already decided he wasn't going to leave the island, unfortunately he can't remember that. After an accident, Richard is sent to the UK to recover.

Author's note: This was inspired in part by the book "The Man who Forgot his Wife" by John O'Farrell. I'm not very happy with the opening chapter, this is one of those stories where I have written the end chapters but didn't have a way to get there…so this is what I came up with.

The whole blasted saga began with one of Richard's bad moods. His colleagues assumed it was brought on by the lack of progress on the case they were currently working, but as annoying as it was if your only witness is unconscious in hospital even he could accept that there may be delays in progress. No, the mood was brought on by a very official letter from the Metropolitan Police and the subsequent chat with the Commissioner that morning. After spending 15 minutes on hold trying to talk to somebody back in London who knew what they were on about he'd slammed down the phone in frustration, stood up and kicked his desk.

This had two effects. Firstly, Richard really hurt his foot. Secondly, he knocked his in-tray and the paperwork within it all over the floor. Camille rolled her eyes across the room and him and got up to help him tidy the mess.

"Did that make you feel better?" She asked sarcastically. He didn't respond to her, choosing to go down the 'if you can't say anything nice' route.

Richard had forgotten something key, which was about to prove his downfall. When Camille had wondered over to his desk that morning he'd stuffed the letter causing his bad mood under a bunch of other papers to stop her seeing it and over-reacting. He looked up from trying to secure the sections of his in-tray back together to find her with the wretched letter clutched in her hand, eyes rapidly scanning it and taking the information in, and knew the game was up.

With no leads left to pursue on the current assault case, and not much else pressing for their attention, Dwayne and Fidel had gone down to the market to show their faces and let the good people of Saint Marie know their police service cared. Fidel did this by assisting older citizens, writing a few people up for traffic violations and giving directions to lost tourists. Dwayne did this through a liberal application of flirting. The market was now shutting down for the day, so the two of them decided to pop back into the station before home time.

They didn't need to get that close to the station to hear the fight.

Dwayne rolled his eyes at Fidel, "What do you think this one is about really?" he asked jovially, but his expression changed once he was able to hear the words they were exchanging.

"You can't accuse me of hiding things from you I only got the blasted thing this morning! Am I not allowed any time to think about things? Is it not actually my life, or do you have to be involved with all my decisions now?" Richard snapped a reply to a comment from Camille they'd missed.

"You're trying to make this out like it isn't a big deal, and it is,they are sending you back to London!" Camille was trying to keep the pain out of her voice and failing. Dwayne and Fidel shared a look, and with it decided it was best to go in just to lessen the chance of assault or murder happening when their boss invariably said the wrong thing. That was, if he even realised the real reasons she was upset.

However as they stepped inside the door the Inspector actually managed to surprise them by hesitantly informing Camille, "I don't actually have to go. I mean, the Met phrases it as an order but if I refuse the promotion then, technically, I suppose I could remain in my post here."

"Why would you refuse the promotion?" She asked him quietly.

At this point Richard returned to his more inarticulate self when faced with questions that might have anything to do with feelings. After about 15 seconds of really rather awkward silence Camille decided she had her answer.

"This is ridiculous, of course you have to take the promotion! It'll ruin your career if you don't!" She shouted at him.

The Inspector looked perplexed, and Fidel felt for him. He'd had many similar fights with Juliet when they first met and neither was sure that the other wanted the same thing.

"Hang on, first you're mad at me because I might be leaving and now you're mad because I say I might stay? Is there any way for me to win here?"

Behind Camille, Fidel and Dwayne attempted to indicate this might not have been the best course of action.

"I'M NOT MAD ABOUT THAT!" She was pointing at him, pointing was never good.

"WELL YOU COULD HAVE BLOODY FOOLED ME!" He threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

"I'm mad because you didn't discuss it with me…us!"

"We've been over this, I only got it this morning," Richard sighed as Camille grabbed her bag and the jeep's keys off her desk. "Where are you going?"

"Home!" She replied abruptly and turned to leave. Richard followed her out.

"You can't drive when you're this angry, you'll have an accident. I'll drive you home," He used his Inspector voice, which did not go down well with Camille.

"What?" she bit back at him, holding the keys out of his reach.

"Driving whilst frustrated or angry reduces a driver's visual hazard perception by up to 30%, leading to an increased risk of accidents, Smyth and Hadrian 2013."

This pronouncement caused Camille to pause long enough that Richard was able to grab the keys out of her hands. Violence may well have followed but, luckily for Richard, Camille recognised he was doing this because he actually cared. She was still too angry and upset to be touched by the gesture, but she was able to acknowledge it. She huffed at him and went off to climb into the passenger seat of the jeep.

Richard took a moment to apply his forehead to the doorframe and let out a long breath.

"Don't worry Chief, my Dad always used to say to me women are meant to be loved not understood," Dwayne attempted to comfort him. However this comment gained the sort of look from his Inspector that he normally tried to avoid, his interesting relationship with Camille was not something that should be alluded to, ever.

Fidel wasn't able to contain himself, "Are you leaving, Sir?"

Richard let out another breath, but before he could answer the horn on the jeep sounded rather violently, so his reply was quickly formed, "It's not a done thing. I better go before she hot wires the jeep."

For the first two minutes, Camille gave him the silent treatment. Richard had never expected it to last for long, but at least she had stopped shouting when she spoke next.

"You don't have to pretend you might stay out of some misplaced sense of loyalty you know."

Richard tried to keep the sigh to a minimum this time, "That wouldn't be the reason why."

"You've wanted to go home five minutes after you got here, everyone knows that," she said sulking.

"Technically that isn't true," Camille gave him a dubious look. "I never wanted to come in the first place."

That earned him an eye roll, and another two minutes of blissful silence.

"You leaving is inevitable, stupid to pretend otherwise."

Richard felt a flare of frustration that he tried to keep under control. It wouldn't do any good to end up crashing the jeep because he was angry. Instead he calmly asked, "Why would you say that? You said I wasn't coming back last time and I did. Is there a way to actually prove I don't hate it here as much as you seem to think?"

"This is different. You have every reason to go, make a better life for yourself, and just forget us" her reply was deliberately provoking and before he really knew what he was doing he indicated and pulled over to the side of the road.

"What are you doing?" she finally actually looked at him, mildly surprised by his action.

"I'm stopping the car in order to prevent my frustration with you causing me to crash the damn thing."

"Oh, you're frustration with me? You're brutally honest 24 hours a day and now you're frustrated at me because I state what it obvious?" With Camille, attack had always been the best form of defence. When she was hurting she struck out, hoping other people's pain would cover her own. Richard did not expect the conversation to go well.

"Tell me, what have I done to you exactly that gives you zero faith in me?" he asked her.

"Oh well let me see. Well for number one you complain constantly about the lack of resources, the culture, people speaking French, the weather and then go on about how glorious London is in comparison," she rattled off.

"I'm English, I like complaining, I do have a reputation to maintain you know," He was trying to draw a smile from her, it normally worked much to his surprise, but today she was immovable.

"All the more reason for you to get back to your fellow countrymen," She refused to meet his eye.

Richard Poole was well known for not doing emotions. If he had to be anything but professional, he tended to mess up. He was about logic and irrefutable arguments, and had come to rely strongly on Camille for her ability to read others emotions. As a consequence though, he had worked hard in order to learn in turn to read the looks she threw at him – even though most of them were easy as she largely used them to berate him. He knew from the tone of her voice when he should back the hell off or when she was only teasing him. Perhaps his experience had made him a little over-confident because he immediately regretted what he said next.

"You know, not everyman is your bloody father!"

Her body stiffened in the seat next to him, another sure sign that meant he had crossed the line. Her voice was probably the deadliest he'd ever heard it when she said, "What?"

Backpedalling wasn't going to help, so he decided he might as well try to explain what he meant, "Look, you know, you always pretend like your Dad leaving didn't affect you but it did. If I tell you I don't want to believe you won't believe me and it's…" he paused and gritted his teeth to avoid swearing. "…really annoying."

"How dare you? You think you know me? You think you're some sort of psychologist now? You're absolutely useless with people - trying to bring my Father into this is just proof of that," She began to struggle out of her seatbelt, intending to storm off somewhere.

Richard snapped back at her, "I think I know you a bit better than you think I do. Come on, don't be stupid, you're overreacting."

"Oh no I'm overreacting! I suppose that was caused by my mother coddling me!" She'd gotten out of her seatbelt and threw herself out of the car, walking off in the direction of her house.

"CAMILLE!" he shouted back at her, but for now the situation seemed un-salvageable. She was only a ten minute walk from home. With yet another sigh, he started the car and turned it around, heading home.

He was pretty sure his visual hazard perception had not been reduced, but he knew he was driving a bit too fast given the conditions. Potholes in Saint Marie were inevitable, and often impossible to avoid. One was made impossible simply by another driver careering around a corner so fast Richard was actually forced to drive over it to avoid a collision. The only problem with potholes is if you hit enough of them they start to weaken your tires, and that can lead to a tyre burst, which is what Richard quickly surmised had happened as the car lurched out of the pothole and began listing seriously to the left. He managed to resist the urge to break, some driver training apparently staying with him, but with the sharp bend right there he had no choice but to aim the vehicle off the road where it came to a very sharp stop thanks to a palm.

When Dwayne got the call from Fire and Rescue about the Inspector, he immediately called Camille. As he watched her pacing A & E, he wondered if it was possible to charm one of the nurses into giving her a sedative. She wouldn't stop going on about how it was her fault. Despite explaining to her that the tyre burst was just from the jeep being used too much and not being repaired often enough, the same conclusion fire and rescue had come too, she still went on about it like she had slashed the tyre herself.

Sitting in another corner of the waiting room, Fidel had Rosie on his lap, reading her a story and trying to keep her entertained. Juliet had food poisoning, and though Dwayne assured him that he and Camille had it covered he'd still turned up 20 minutes later with his little girl in tow and a bag full of things to hopefully keep her occupied and quiet. At that moment Rosie pushed herself off her father's lap, toddled over to Camille and attached herself to the detective's leg. Camille seemed surprised to see her.

"Hey Rosie," She said, bending down to pick up the child and finally sitting down next to Dwayne. Fidel came over and sat on her other side.

"He'll be okay," Fidel told her in his best reassuring tone.

Camille smiled at him, "If he's not I'll kill him."

The attending Doctor stuck his head in the door but the nurse shook her head to indicate the patient wasn't awake yet. Dr. Cadet was familiar with the Inspector and the officers outside who were awaiting news. He had intended to call tomorrow to inform him another patient was ready for interview, but by the looks of the CT scan somebody else would have to do that. He frowned, from what he knew of the Inspector keeping him away from work may prove a challenge. Though the CT scan had thankfully been clear of bleeding, early indications were that he would probably have a very severe concussion and be unwell for some time – though Cadet knew he'd have to wait until the Inspector was conscious before he could make a proper assessment.

One of the more senior nursing staff approached him, "Doctor, are you able to update the officers on the patient's condition yet? I think one of them is rather distressed…"

Cadet nodded briskly, "I'll let them know he appears to be out of any danger for now."

When he stepped into the waiting room three police officers accompanied by a very sleepy toddler all jumped to their feet.

He smiled in greeting, "He's not awake yet, but I don't think that is anything to worry about. CT scan was clear, but I predict one hell of a headache."

Dwayne and Fidel smiled at each other, clearly relieved, whilst the toddle just blinked confusedly but seemed to accept the fact that since her father was happy, she should be too. DS Bordey, he knew, was more the seeing is believing type, but she wasn't a relation so he couldn't really allow it and the look on her face said she knew it without him saying so.

"Do you know when he might be awake?" She asked him tentatively.

"I'm afraid that is entirely up to him," however, even as he was finishing the sentence, the nurse he had assigned to keep checking in on a patient opened the door and beckoned him over. "If you'll excuse me."

Camille absolutely, one hundred percent knew she shouldn't, but before the door slammed shut behind the Doctor she slipped through it and hurried down the hall after him. She looked at the Doctor pleadingly.

"2 minutes and I'm coming in with you," Dr. Cadet conceded, without ever really putting up a fight.

The patient was sitting up, giving the nurse a perplexed look as she took his blood pressure. His silence caused a momentary flare of concern in the Doctor, in his experience Richard Poole enjoyed complaining far too much not to be winging at the nurse about the cuff being too tight. However maybe his head just hurt.

Richard looked between Camille and himself expectantly, but it would seem the police detective had suddenly gone shy.

"How are you feeling?" Cadet asked.

Inspector Poole shrugged, "My head really hurts."

Before he could begin his examination, Camille suddenly burst out, "I promise not to fight with you anymore! Actually I can't promise that we fight all the time, but next time, I'll never leave until we've sorted it out and I'm really sorry, this is all my fault."

Cadet wasn't sure the Inspector caught all of that, he wasn't sure he'd followed it all and he hadn't been in a car crash today. Inspector Poole gave him a sidelong glance.

"Did you hit me on the head?" he asked Camille.

She took a step back, "Of course not."

"Then why are you blaming yourself?"

Camille grinned, gave the Inspector the fastest peck on the cheek the good doctor ever thought he'd seen and called out that she'd be back later as she shimmied happily out the door. Cadet picked up the chart and saw that blood pressure was high, but within normal range given the stress. He needed to do a neurological exam which would hopefully belay some of his niggling worries.

Inspector Poole was still staring at the door, then seemed to mentally shake himself before turning to Dr Cadet and saying, "Wow, she is really hot."

At that moment, he knew something was very wrong after all.