Work Text:
“Does La Cour have a new girlfriend?” Gaby asks Ingrid over the coffee maker.
Ingrid raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so, why?”
“He just answered his phone with “Hey, baby”. I was walking past, but I don’t think he saw me.”
“He could have been talking to Marie.”
“Yeah, maybe... it didn’t sound like it, though. His tone of voice was different. The way you talk to a lover, not a child.”
“Well, good for him if he’s found someone again. The divorce has been hard on him. Did you bring rolls?”
“Yeah, I put them over there on the counter. Hand me one?”
“Sure.” She throws one over. “Here, catch. How’s little Ina?”
“She’s fine. It’s been good since my mom moved closer, she watches her when I’m at work. I mean, Johnny does what he can, but...”
Ingrid’s face falls. “Yeah. Hey, you think we should go eavesdrop on La Cour?” It’s an obvious tactic, but Gaby lets her get away with it. She’d rather not talk about Johnny, either.
“Let’s,” she grins.
“I miss you too... it’s only a little while longer... yes, I know. You too. Bye, honey.”
“Who were you talking to?” Ingrid asks, unable to keep a grin from splitting her face.
La Cour startles. “Nobody. Why were you listening?” he asks, chagrined.
“Lighten up, we’re happy for you,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve to have someone again, after Helene.”
“Thanks, I guess. Look, I really need to finish this report...” he squirms.
“Ingrid, you’re making him uncomfortable,” Gaby laughs.
“Alright, let’s get to work. Where’s IP?”
“Oh that’s right, he called earlier,” Gaby says, plopping down in her desk chair. “He’s going to be late, he ran out of gas. Trine borrowed his car and forgot to fill the tank.”
“For goodness’ sake,” Ingrid mutters.
“Sooo...” Gaby starts at lunchtime. “What’s her name, then?”
“No,” La Cour says flatly.
“Interesting name, that.”
“No, I’m not telling you anything. It’s none of your business.”
“Alright, alright. Though maybe you shouldn’t make your private phone calls in the office, if you don’t want us to know,” she says mischievously.
“What’s this about La Cour and private phone calls?” IP asks, suddenly no longer interested in his computer screen.
Before La Cour can snap at him, Ingrid comes into the mobile office, waving her mobile phone in the air.
“You’ll never guess who just called.”
“Who?” Gaby asks.
“Palsby.”
“Ugh, what's he want this time?”
“Listen to this. Jack and Angel Hair are dead, they were killed in a biker war. It’s safe for Fischer to come home.”
Jaws drop. “Fischer’s coming back from Europol?” Gaby squeals.
“He’s coming back to us. I told Palsby to transfer him back to Unit One immediately, considering the whole mess was partly his fault in the first place. He pinned it all on Fischer, the least he can do is bring him back as soon as possible.”
La Cour’s grin is so wide it looks like his face might split.
“I didn’t think Palsby would go along with that,” IP muses. “I mean, he’s done his penance, as it were, by reinstating Unit One. He’s not exactly the kind of person who does things out of the kindness of his heart.”
“That’s why I went over his head, to the Chief of Police. She still feels guilty for the shit Palsby pulled in her absence.” Ingrid’s smile is all teeth, like a shark’s grin.
“We’re getting Fischer back,” Gaby breathes. “The whole team together again! Well, except for...” she trails off. Everyone’s expressions sober. “I mean, he was kind of a part of it too, wasn’t he?” she trembles.
“Of course he was,” Ingrid comforts her. “Johnny will always be part of us. Perhaps one day he’ll even drive us again.” She knows how unlikely that is, but she knows it’s what Gaby needs to hear. And it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility, so she’s not lying. Much.
“I can’t believe we’re getting Fischer back,” IP says aloud to no-one in particular. He looks like the cat who got the canary. “I’ll be damned.”
“I... excuse me, I have to make a phone call,” La Cour mutters, and hurriedly exits the mobile office.
“What’s gotten into him?” IP asks Ingrid.
A suspicion rises in her. She‘s not sure exactly where it comes from, but her intuition tells her she’s right. Over the years, she’s learned to trust her intuition.
“I’m not sure...” she half-lies. “I’ll go check on him.”
She slips out of the back door, taking care not to make any noise. She knows it’s unprofessional, spying on a colleague, but her curiosity far outweighs any objections her mind throws at her.
She hears La Cour talking into his mobile around the corner of the truck.
“Ingrid just told us. When did you hear? Just now? I can’t believe it... I know... you’ll see Victor again. I talked to Mille the other day... hey, don’t get mad. She forgives you for not telling her about the undercover thing. She says Victor needs his dad in his life... no, she doesn’t know about us, of course I didn’t tell her. I’ll leave that up to you, when you get back... well, she’s your ex-wife, it’s your responsibility, you coward. Yeah, I know... it’ll be good to have you back. Gaby and IP missed you. Ingrid, too. What, me? No, I haven’t missed you at all. I know... me too. I love you, now go pack. See you soon. Bye.”
Ingrid slips back into the truck, smiling broadly. She thinks about Jan, about what she’ll tell him tonight. He’ll think she’s pulling his leg.
Her team, back together again. Some of them a little more “together” than previously. She doubts she’ll stop smiling for the rest of the day.