Right!

It was the beer festival yesterday so I am officially smashed!
No, but seriously, I arrived home some time in the early hours of this morning with a ton of sand in my shoes (although the beer festival was in the middle of a feild and the nearest beach/ sand area was 6 miles away :S ) and with the vague memory of a circus (the nearest circus being 4 miles outside the parish borders in the other direction to the beach.) I also have sunburn although it was the middle of the night :S
I mean seriously, what the HELL was I doing out there!?

(So basically, there is a strong possibility I walked 20 miles last night between 8 and whatever time I finally dragged myself in, and the sunburn is so red it would suggest I paid a quick visit to my family in Africa during that time aswell!!)

Enjoy this story, though it will probably be as wasted as me :

Her perspective:

Kate smiled as she heard the inspectors uneven footsteps enter the pub, for a moment she didn't turn; savouring the moment.

When she did all happiness left her instantaneously; the inspector looked awful, tired brown eyes, filled with pain and regret didn't meet with hers, and a fringe flopped forward over his face, his face - it was like the face of a tired old man, covered in worried creases and with patches under his eyes so dark she was sure even a blind person would see them.

"What happened?" She asked, concern and anxiety gripping her like the cold fingers of death, making her throat feel like it was made out of ice.

"He... he.. No." The inspector stuttered and groaned, "This can't really be happening," he said, "This is all just some horrible dream and I'm just taking a long time to wake up, that's all."

Kate felt a singe of pain, was he talking about her? Had he not enjoyed their walk last night? She pulled him a pint but he did not drink it, just leaned against the bar looking down; captured in his own thoughts.


His perspective:

He walked into the pub, Kate was behind the bar, though she couldn't have heard him because she didn't turn until he was right behind her.

When she did turn she looked happy, then she saw him, the happiness left her face, replaced by something he wasn't sure of; could it be disappointment?

She looked nice today anyway, her big eyes shining, and her beutiful hair curling down in ringlets, he didn't want to look her in the face, show her what a hideous person he really was compared to her.

"What happened?" She asked, her voice sounded cold, clipped, was she talking about the date? Should he have called on her sooner? The date felt a million miles away at that moment in time.

He tried to answer her, and failed. At the sight of her all that pent up emotion overwhelmed him again, she was so young, so beautiful, innocent and summery, why was she with an old man like him? He couldn't forget Holmes and Watson, he tried to tell her; make her understand the nightmare he was living.

She did not respond, just pulled him a pint, another regular customer, of course she didn't like him. Why would she?
He did not drink the pint, he just stood with it in his hand, entrapped in his own mind; so many thoughts, so many things going wrong, how was a man supposed to deal with it?

Okay, just thought I'd help kick in some perspective here.

I want to thank everyone for your support, your all legends :D

Sorry, my first chapter back is most likely naf; I'm really tired.
Although I know that's no excuse, thanks for reading anyway. xx