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It certainly wasn’t the kind of phone call Camille ever wanted to receive, whether it was private or while on duty. That this particular phone call could be considered both did not make things in any way easier to handle.
She was desperately fighting back tears as she strode down the hospital corridor, simultaneously glad and displeased that the Sainte Marie practice wasn’t bigger. She was preparing to see her boss in a hospital bed, yes, but that he was also the man she loved – well, while he may not know that, it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be difficult for her to see him injured.
Camille found room B13, and if she hesitated for just a moment outside the door, no one but the orderly who strode past saw it. With another deep breath, a desperate attempt to centre herself, she pushed the door open, glad that it didn’t creak so that she had a moment to observe Richard before he noticed her arrival. She was doubly glad he had a one-bed room, allowing him some of the privacy he so desperately craved.
When he lifted his head, she barely recognised him for the bruises. If she hadn’t been looking as intently at him as she was, she probably wouldn’t have caught the way his expression shuttered when she gasped and lifted a trembling hand to cover her mouth.
“Richard,” she said, shock and dismay interfering with her usual attention to his ideas of propriety. “What…”
“DS Bordey,” Richard returned, looking away from her, holding himself stiffly in such a way she thought it must be aggravating his injuries terribly. The bruising on his face looked to be the least of it, considering the way his ribs were wrapped and how his arm was tied up in a sling. “I would appreciate some assistance in getting signed out of my current lodgings.”
“Richard, what happened?” Camille asked, carefully ignoring his request while attempting to look like she wasn’t ignoring his (unreasonable) request. She took a few, slow steps into the room, easily reaching the bed, standing at his bedside. “Sir, look at me.”
“I would prefer to get out of here, DS Bordey,” he said tersely, face still turned away, but she could see him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
“You’re not cleared to leave, sir, so I don’t think I’ll help spring you just yet,” she scoffed, again impressed by how quickly he could turn her from worried to incensed. The worry returned the moment he looked at her properly again. “Let me see.”
“I must look awful if it’s even half as bad as I feel,” he admitted in a rare moment of frankness when it came to feelings, whether they be physical or emotional. “I would say you should see the other guy, but considering I was hit by a car…”
She wasn’t certain who was more surprised by her sob, Richard or herself. Oh, she knew she was mightily upset – as Richard would say – but bad enough to start sobbing while standing next to her obviously alive boss (and love)? It wasn’t like her.
“Camille, what – how… please don’t cry?” If he wasn’t so badly hurt, and if Camille hadn’t been in such a state of emotional upheaval, it would have been adorable just how flustered he was at the sight of her tears. “I will be fine, it’s nothing truly life-threatening.”
She shook her head at him, still sobbing. He’d been hit by a car, but here she was, crying.
“It’s not just that,” she gasped out, trying to dry her tears with one hand, the other hand desperately clutching the side of the bed. She was certain that, if she didn’t hold on to something, she would crumble to the floor, now that the adrenaline of the first phone call was truly letting her out of its grasp. “Oh, cher…”
Richard didn’t know French, Camille knew that much, but it was clear by his blush and answering stammer that he knew enough to recognise a term of endearment when he heard it.
For a moment she fussed with the blankets covering his legs, before she couldn’t stop herself any longer and reached out to take his hand. The squeak of surprise he let out was a sound she would treasure for the rest of her life, even if her affections weren’t well-received. Richard played everything so close to his chest, she just wasn’t certain her feelings would be appreciated.
“Richard,” she started, with a tone she thought he would call tremulous. The blush that rose in his cheeks when she brought his hand up, kissing the back of it before laying her cheek against it, was a sight she never thought she would see. “Richard, mon cher, I love you, and if this tells me anything, it is that I must tell you, because life is too short to keep love a secret. Richard, I love you, je t’aime.”
“I…” he stammered in return, looking all around the room as if waiting for – as he used to say – someone to jump out yelling gotcha! She thought she might just spend the rest of her life convincing him she loved him, which didn’t sound like a bad idea no matter what. “I am your superior, Detective Sergeant Bordey, do keep that in mind.”
“We are in paradise, sir, and the Commissioner has told me enough times to make ‘things’ official I feel that in this case, regulations can be sidestepped. I love you, and I had hoped that you felt the same.”
Richard looked at her in disbelief, but she just met his gaze evenly, as calm and collected on the outside as she absolutely wasn’t on the inside. She still held his hand, and he had done no attempts to make her let go, so maybe…
“Of course I do – God help me, but I love you too. If the regulations – well, if I have to choose between you and the job, I’m afraid the choice has been made for quite some time.”
She dropped his hand as if burned, taking a step away from the bed.
“I apologise, sir, if my actions made you uncomfortable.” Camille kept a straight face, trying her best to not betray how her heart was breaking. She couldn’t hide the shock she felt, however, when Richard with a grunt of effort reached for her hand again.
“You misunderstand me, Camille. I love you, and the choice would always be you.”
What else was there for her to do than to – carefully – kiss him? It did take some manoeuvring to not hit his many bruises, and the sling was mostly in the way, but nevertheless – because it was Camille Bordey kissing Richard Poole, the kiss was perfect.