Torchwood: Fanfic: Token apology

[m_findlow]

Title: Token apology
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Kathy Swanson, OC
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 654 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for m_findlow's prompt "Any, any, giving someone a box of chocolates/bottle of wine as thanks" at fic_promptly
Summary: Kathy is less than impressed by the gift on her desk.

‘What’s this?’ Kathy asked as she saw the large package on her desk. She cast a suspicious eye over the basket wrapped in cellophane and ribbons. It was nicer than a pile of unresolved case files, but treated with an equal amount of distrust. Nobody gave her gifts unless they wanted something. It had better not be that idiot from procurement, what was his name, Gary something? How could she make it any clearer that not only was she not interested, but that if they were the only two people left on the planet, she still wouldn’t be interested. It didn’t seem like his style though. He was a worm, and worms didn’t spend money.

She twirled the hamper around, getting a proper look at the contents. Expensive swiss chocolates, some nougat, even though she didn’t really like nougat, and two bottles of wine, one red and one white.

‘Ooh,’ her detective sergeant cooed over her shoulder. ‘Those are some nice bottles of plonk. They must really fancy you, this admirer of yours.’

She carefully slipped the card out of its small envelope, reading the short note in neat pen. “Sorry about last night. Hope this makes up for it. TW.”

Whether the message had been penned specifically to give away nothing, or so that it could be passed off as an apology for a bad date night or one night stand, she couldn’t say. It seemed unlikely that Torchwood would give two figs about how this might appear to her fellow co-workers. Any of them with half a brain would put two and two together, realising she’d been on call last night, and that meant the only two possibilities were that she’d either had a barney with someone for having to leave and go to a case in the middle of the night, or worse, that she’d picked up someone from the scene and had a very late night booty call. Either alternative made her seethe at the thought. Bloody Torchwood.

‘Looks like you’ve got an admirer,’ the sergeant replied, grinning at her. ‘TW? Don’t think I know anyone on the force who’s a TW. Someone special you haven’t told us about?’

Kathy scoffed at the description. Special was not a word she’d use to describe them. ‘Not one I’d like,’ she replied.

Perhaps she should be grateful for the sentiment, since Torchwood had rightly done her no favours last night, but neither did she want them thinking that a fruit basket was all it would take to sway her. She was still left with having to explain to her DCI that the body reported as deceased at the scene was now missing, or more to the point, that it had never been there in the first place, and that someone along the chain had mucked up the initial incident report.

She’d been tipped off that the body was going to turn up in three days’ time, dredged from the River Taff, and so far gone that only dental records would identify it. It probably wasn’t even the same body, which was even more disconcerting. But she couldn’t say any of that. That was Torchwood apparently cooperating with her investigation. Not that she could tell anyone. An anonymous caller would report seeing the body and request a police presence. Only afterwards would the dead body and her open investigation joint their respective dots. Until then, she’d get a ribbing from her boss about was a colossal stuff-up this had been.

The sergeant sighed, fingering the cellophane. ‘Still, I’d take it home and enjoy it if I were you. Not every day someone spends a bit of dosh on you. Take it for the win and don’t think about it. That’s what I’d do.’

Kathy grimaced. For the win indeed. Until the next time they crossed paths. She’d need more than a bottle of wine to appease her, even if it was a Bordeaux.