Fandoms: Midsomer Murders, BBC Sherlock

Characters: DCI Tom Barnaby, DI G. Lestrade, Molly Hooper

Genres: Gen, crime

Warnings: English is not my first language, this has not been Brit-picked or beta-read.

Notes: Okay, so, this requires a bit of an explanation. I did a character meme on my journal over at dA and the last was a challenge to write a drabble for the characters I'd listed as number 10 and 8. It ended up being Molly Hooper/Tom Barnaby, which was quite the challenge indeed.

The end result is slightly longer than a drabble, I guess, and not really a pairing fic. More of a first-meeting-and-appreciating fic. IDEK, ok? LOL. Here we go!


Impressions

The young Yarder - Williams? Walliams? - led him down the vaguely familiar corridors of St. Bart's, bearing the same condescending air of Londoners Tom remembers from Scott in the very beginning. It had taken a while, both with their preconceptions (though Tom liked to think he had been willing to be proven wrong at first, even when Scott had later confirmed his initial suspicions of his attitude towards his relocation to the countryside), before they got over their rocky start. However, even if Scott had altered his view on simple country coppers, and Tom had come to appreciate the different - but undeniably useful - police work London had taught his newest Detective Sergeant, this did in no way transcend jurisdictions, obviously. It could not be helped, however; a recent viscous triple murder had led them on a chase that took them all the way to London, this mostly thanks to Scott, Tom noted with a sense of satisfaction. The young DS still had friends in the Met, some in the Yard; work connections and friendships were sometimes very useful networks in the force, inner city or countryside, Tom knew.

So it was this time around, as Scott had picked up some talk of recent murders extremely similar to those they were investigating in Midsomer Worthy. A half-burnt postcard later found in the kitchen bin at one of the victims, half of a London address still visible, had lent to more solid suspicions and they were promptly dispatched for a quick meet with the DI (something French, Lestrange? Lestrade? He should've taken Scott up on that offer for coffee) currently investigating the possible connected murders in London. It was not a big surprise to find the postcard's incomplete address matched rather well with the residence of one of the victims here, Tom just hoped their luck would continue.

"The morgue is just through here, Sir. DI Lestrade is waiting for you, I'll be outside."

Tom nodded, giving the youth a quick smile before ducking through the door, quickly scanning the room and taking in the much more familiar layout of this room. Perhaps he should be worried he recognized this better than he did the way to here, but then again, morgues tended to have the same feeling about them as well as general appearance. It had been a good while since he'd been here though, way back before he was Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby. That, however, was besides the point. Spotting a pleasant-looking, middle-ages man carrying the tell-tale signs of experienced police officers (greying hair, face worn down from frowning rather than laughter, tense shoulders and sharp eyes) standing next to a pretty young woman, Tom entered with a quick nod to himself. Right.

"DI Lestrade, I am Detective Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby," he introduced himself, meeting the man half-way for a handshake and a polite smile.

"Sir, I'm glad you could join us. We were rather lost until you contacted us, glad to have some progress with this," Lestrade said without much fuss; signs of being straight-forward and efficient, Tom suspected. "This is Molly Hooper, she performed the autopsy on these two."

Tom nodded towards her, taking in eager eyes and pretty brown hair. "Same as ours, then?" he directed to her, making her eyes widen a bit before she shook herself out of it (not used to being asked to join in, then. Pity, he found it always benefited to involve George in his cases, the man could easier find the information needed if he was kept updated).

"Yes Sir, I received the files from Doctor Bullard and it's the same method of attack and cause of death; the bruising suggests the same amount of force was applied, which means it was most likely done by the same person but - you already knew that, so…." she trailed off, looking uncomfortable and flushed at the attention. Lestrade smiled crookedly, looking over to meet Tom's eyes.

"Yes, but it is always important to have it confirmed," Tom said, "thank you, Miss Hooper. Will you two take me through this, once more? How did you say the bodies were found, Lestrade?"

The DI summarised what they'd found and concluded thus far, answering a few questions Tom had mulled over on the way here and discussed with Scott while Hooper offered him her files for a quick look-through. It didn't take long to finish up, inspecting the bodies before deciding it was time to meet up with Scott and see what he had found at the crime scene. DI Lestrade was turning out to be of a sharp mind, and Tom didn't think there would be any trouble in wrapping this one up sooner rather than later. The man possessed little of the arrogance he had met with typically when dealing with city coppers; Tom suspected he was either too world weary or humble for such behaviour anyway, or maybe he recognized in Tom what he had in him. It usually takes one to know one; not many country coppers had seen quite as much blood and grime as he, Tom knew.

The ride to the crime scene didn't take long, and was pleasantly silent. Tom allowed his mind to wander for a bit, having no new hypothesis to think through just yet without further information, and thought back to Miss Hooper at the morgue. Beyond her surprise at being consulted for opinions beyond bare facts, she hadn't made much of an impression. Not the usual kind, anyway, which certain women had a way of doing. She wasn't a bold one, nor an especially eccentric one. Merely sweet and endearing in a way he found he missed sometimes, dealing with haughty mistresses and wives of the privileged countryside, or the shrewd gossiping villagers sneering at their neighbours. She had also, of course, been pleasantly attractive. He could appreciate that, and the way she had handled her work once she had gotten over her initial discomfort was efficient and skilled. He was reminded of George, the way she worked and sometimes seemed to direct her speech to the corpse instead of the two officers.

Well then, perhaps she had made more of an impression than he'd thought. Enough of that, though, he told himself as they took a left and slowed down by the sealed off building. Time to get to work.


End notes: Yeah, IDK, it was fun to mash these two series together. I might do more of it some time, but I'll leave it like this for now.