Title:             The Bold And The Dutiful
Author:            Augustus
Email:             gaius_octavius_@hotmail.com
Slash/Fanfic Page: http://go.to/fabulae
Fandom:            The Bill
Pairing:           Wait and see……
Rating:            PG I guess
Status:            New, complete
Category:          AU, Parody, Squick Fic.
Series:            The fourth in the "Dollar Bills" series. They're all stand-
                   alones, though.
                   Archival: All official list archives are fine. Anyone else
                   just ask. I'm not about to say no *g*
Warnings:          This was written for fabulae's "Squick September" so you are
                   warned *g* There be grossness within……
Feedback:          I live for it *g*. Email or onlist. Whatever *g*.
Summary:           If The Bill was an American day time soap……
Disclaimer:        These names officially belong to Pearson TV. Let's face it,
                   though - they're no longer in their natural habitat. Somehow
                   I think I would watch more soaps if it was.



*************************
The Bold And The Dutiful
*************************


{Opening titles}

Charles Brownlow stands, silhouetted, against the venetian blinds of hisoffice
window, the perfect musing look etched upon his ageing face. The life of a Chief
Superintendent is a hard one, but Charles never lets it take its toll on his manly
posture and serene countenance. If the sudden voice from behind startles him, he does
not let it show.

"What're you looking at?"

Turning, Charles finds himself looking into the peculiar, multicoloured eyes of Chief
Inspector Derek Conway. "Oh, nothing in particular, Derek," he replies, holding the
other man's gaze with his own. "I was just watching the A Shift heading out for
another day on the streets, and reminiscing about my own days at the public
frontline."

"Pleasant memories, huh, Sir?"

"Pleasant?" The serene look on Charles' face is quickly replaced by one of barely
contained fury. "Pleasant?!?"

Derek frowns uneasily. "Did I say something wrong?"

Charles returns to gazing out of the window, staying silent for more than a minute
before finally answering the question. "I've never told you about my years wearing
the tit, have I?"

"No, sir."

There is another long pause, the silence broken only by the building background
music, melodramatic and evocative. Finally, Brownlow begins, drifting into soft
focus as he does so.

"I joined the force when I was just nineteen. Back then I was young and easily
impressionable. So, when my fellow constables told me anything, there was no
question of my not believing them. P.C. Ron Thompson took me under his wing,
teaching me the ways of the force. I trusted him implicitly. When he told me that the
things we did together in the back of our Area car were a normal part of the job, I
believed him. When *I* told *him* that I had fallen in love, he never spoke to me
again……"

The soft focus disappears abruptly and Charles turns to face Derek, his
eyes challenging. "Pleasant? No, I don't think I would say that."

When Derek speaks, his tone is much softer than its usual timbre. "I never realised,
Sir."

"Not many do, Derek." Charles begins to pace furiously around the spacious office,
running an over-emotional hand through previously immaculate greying hair. "The
people at this station see me as a sort of invincible God. To them, I'm perfect;
unflawed by any emotional influence. But it's not *true*, Derek, and I'm sick of this
charade!"

Derek moves to strike a manly pose, leaning on one edge of the
Chief Superintendent's solid desk. "I don't know what I can say, Sir."

Charles ceases his pacing, coming to a halt directly in front of Conway.

"You could call me Charles……"

"Oh, Charles!" Derek exclaims joyously. " You don't mean……"

"A man can't work side by side a man like you for this long without developing
feelings for him, Derek."

"Oh, Charles," Derek simpers for a second time.

"So, what do you say, Derek?" Charles asks in his deepest, most manly, of tones.
"Could you ever see me as anything more than simply your superior officer?"

"Oh yes, Charles, yes!"

And with that, Conway throws himself into Brownlow's outstretched arms, their lips
meeting in a prolonged, if somewhat unfeasible, kiss.



* * * * * *



The General C.I.D. office. Tom Proctor is standing in front of Rodney Skase's desk.
Both D.C.s have worried looks plastered on their faces. Rod's telephone rings and he
anxiously grabs it, raising the receiver to his ear.

"Hello? Any news on Deakin?

The ensuing silence is broken only by the occasional "uh-huh" and "okay". Finally,
Rod says goodbye and hangs up the phone, turning back to meet Tom'sgaze.

"That was Liz," he explains. "Apparently there's no change with Deakin."

Tom's shoulders sink in despair. "Oh, Rod, how much longer do we have to deal with
this? How are we supposed to catch criminals when our D.I. is in hospital, possessed
by a demon?"

Rodney places a calming hand on Proctor's arm. "It'll be okay, Tom. We'll just have
to proceed with plan B."

"Do we dare? If anything goes wrong, we'll both lose our jobs for sure."

"We don't have any choice. Are you with me?"

Tom nods nervously.

"Okay then," Rod nodded, his tone one of complete calm. "Release Boulton from his
cage. He's got a demon to eliminate……"



* * * * * *

Back to the Chief Superintendent's office. Charles and Derek are furiously making
out on Brownlow's desk, in perfect timing with the romantic music accompanying
them in soft focus.



* * * * * *

Meanwhile, George Garfield, Dave Quinnan and Nurse Jenny are arguing in
the public "reception" area of the station……

"I'm carrying your baby, Jenny," George announces abruptly.

Jenny and Dave are shocked into a few seconds of silence before finally chorusing
"what?!?" in unison.

"You heard me," George says harshly, I'm pregnant!"

Jenny's eyes widen in confusion. "But how? Even the *thought* of shagging you
makes me want to vomit copiously."

"I drugged you!" George reveals triumphantly. "I couldn't stand the thought of you
marrying Dave!"

Dave shakes his head, moving over to sit down heavily on the bench liningone wall.
"I…… I don't understand!"

"There's nothing for you *to* understand, Dave," George snarls. "Except for the fact
that your engagement's *off*!!! "Dave turns to Jenny, his eyes wide and bewildered.
"Is that true, Jenny? Are you going to let him trap you like this?"

"I must face up to my responsibilities," Jenny announced seriously, her sagging
shoulders the only reflection of her unhappiness at the present turn of events. "If I am
to be this child's mother, then I am forced to reconsider my marriage to you, Dave."

"But……" Dave dissolves into tears, but Jenny makes no move to comfort him.

"Besides, she continues. "I was never really going to *marry* you! I just wanted to
make my way through the most undesirable men at Sunhill. I was planning to dump
you for Trev next week."

She turns to George, regarding him coolly. "I guess this has put a stop to all of my
dreams, though. If you're pregnant with my child, then I'll have to be married after
all…… to you!"

George looks at her in horror. "What?" he cries in utter disgust. "Marry you? Dear
God no! It's *Dave* who this is all about!"

Dave stops his crying and his instantly dry eyes regard George with curiosity. "What
are you saying, George?"

George falls to his knees in front of Dave, producing a boxed ring from his utility
belt. "Marry me, Dave!" he blurts out, blushing bright red. "Marry me, and be a
mother for my poor, bastard child!"

Dave turns his face to one side, shaking his head sadly. "I can't, George," he
announces finally. "I'm still in love with Tony……"



* * * * * *

Back to Brownlow's office. Charles and Derek are lying on Charles desk underneath a
perfectly draped satin sheet that seems to have come from no-where. They are both
smoking cigarettes.

"That was fantastic, Charles," Derek says finally, fluttering his eyelashes at his
superior.

"Thank you, Derek."

"I…… I have to tell you something," Derek stutters, sitting up and looking morosely
out of the window.

"Yes?" Brownlow prompts, regarding him curiously.

"I…… I *love* you, Sir."

Brownlow frowns, looking down at the sheet. "I have something that I need to tell
you too, Derek."

Derek turns to look at him, with anxious eyes. "Yes, Charles?"

"I…… I'm you're father, Derek."

{Cue closing titles}

16-09-2000