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Where Do You Think You're Going?

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“Where do you think you’re going?” the confused sound of Sid’s voice pulled your attention away from your attempts to find the damned sleeve of the jacket you were attempting to put on. With a sigh of relief as you finally found what you were after, you turned to face him as you shrugged on your coat.

“Home, where else?” you offered with a quizzical smile, your brow furrowing in your own confusion at the question. It was only early afternoon, not long past lunch, but you had the day off and without any plans to keep you, the thought of relaxing at home perhaps with a good book and a glass of wine was certainly an appealing runner up for the rest of your evening.

Shuffling his weight awkwardly, Sid frowned at your response, clearly not the answer he was looking for. Raking his fingers through his hair in need of doing something to cease the desire to fidget awkwardly before you. “You’re not gonna stick around?”

“Sid, there’s been a murder,” you spoke in a deadpan tone, not sure why you were having to remind him after the hysterical manner in which Mrs McCarthy had rushed into the kitchen not twenty minutes earlier. “That’s right up your alley, all of you. I’m sure Father Brown will be rushing past here any second now wanting to go see someone about something seemingly unrelated yet crucial to the case.”

“And?” the question was said with such a level of bewildered confusion that it brought a solitary laugh past your lips, one that quickly died when you noticed how the chauffeur’s features matched his tone. Clearly he was not joking.

“’And’ what?” you couldn’t help but mimic his question in bemusement. “You have investigating to do! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You had barely turned back towards the door before he was closing in once more, his hurried footsteps chasing after you in a fumble. Turning around quickly at the sound, you could only offer a raised brow in curiosity as you stood before him, so close you were almost touching. As the silent question hung in the air, you waited, wishing you could figure out what was going through his mind.

“You’re not going to come with?”

“What?” the word came out harsher than you intended, almost like a scoff of derision, making you cringe at the sound. With an apologetic attempt at a smile, you carefully watched your tone as you spoke again, gentler. “Why would you think I would?”

“I just thought,” he began softer this time, uncertainty shining through as his gaze flittered from you to just about anything else, awkwardly avoiding your gaze. Shifting his weight from foot to foot with his hands burying themselves in his pockets, he was the very definition of awkward, and it pulled at your heart to see him so uncomfortable. “I mean, you like all those crime novels and what not, don’t you want to come too?”

“Sid, I-” your words failed as his meaning finally came crashing down. In all the time you had known him you had never been a part of the crime solving quartet he had going, and you hadn’t expected that to change any time soon. Sure, you had something going with him now, but they were so close to one another, and their mysteries seemed to be a crucial part of that. “That’s very sweet, but this is your thing, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” he shook his head quickly, desperate to assure you and put that thought to rest.

“You’re with me, with me,” he started once more, a gentle smile making its way onto his features, whether at the thought of your being his or at the misunderstanding, you couldn’t tell, but as his hands crept out from his pockets, moving to your arms where they ran up and down in a reassuring manner, you couldn’t help but match his smile. “No intruding, we’re partners now, aight? That means where I go, you go, if you want, that is.”

He looked so determined, so set in his mind, but you couldn’t help but worry that he was rushing into things without thinking. As much as you’d like to join him, you weren’t about to ruin something he enjoyed so much. “You sure?” the question came out softer than you intended, uncertainty showing clearly in your tone as you gazed up at him.

“Positive,” he nodded resolutely, his smile growing by the second. “Here, look, I’ll prove it,” with his usual pep seemingly back in his step, he turned back towards the kitchen, not daring to let you out of his hold as he called out towards the trio you had just left. “Oi, Father, Y/N is coming with us!”

The answer came back instantly, accompanied with a booming laugh. “About time!”