Thank God For OCD

Chandler let out a calming breath as he approached Miles and the rest of his team, all waiting for the cue to infiltrate the house of the 'Krays'. Miles watched Chandler pull up onto the street curb right by him and caught the half-resigned, more determined look in his eye. "Didn't expect to see you."

"I may stumble," Chandler sighed sheepishly to him. "but I don't give up."

"Sure you're up for this?" Miles asked warily, just to be sure.

Chandler grimaced. "You saw me, Miles." Miles raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "In fact, everybody saw me. I sort thumbtacks by colour and group them into groups of exactly one-hundred and fifty." He shrugged his shoulders meekly. "It bothers me to leave a job unfinished... leave a crook unapprehended."

Miles nodded thoughtfully. "One of the finer points that make you a good copper, I think." Then he smiled. "Glad to have you back."

Chandler rolled his eyes. "This said to a man last seen sobbing miserably in a shower stall, scooping brain off his face." Everybody winced for the poor DI.

"If it's any consolation," Miles cleared his throat awkwardly. "we're all here... if you want to talk about it." He deadpanned at Chandler's reproachful look.

"I'll never get the feeling I've got it off..." the younger man groaned in despair. "...bleach and starch won't come close to covering it!"

Miles just clapped him warmly on the shoulder and steered the slightly anxious man to the frontlines of the operation. "Now that's the Joseph Chandler we all know."

"If there ever was a moment to get used to being him, this is it." Chandler set his gaze steady. "And he's not leaving anytime soon."

He took a carefuly measured breath and gave the cue to begin the operation.

The End