#james hathaway
Sir #215
- Sir.
- James. We’ve found the rug, about a mile away from where the body was. The size is…
- About five foot by eight.
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Sir #214
- Professor Lipton was Nina’s tutor. Have a word with him, also the university counselling service. See if there’s anything we ought to know about there. Young, black, working class girl trying to make her way in the most rarefied, elitist environment in the country. Did she feel alienated, marginalised, ostracised enough to fall in with bad company?
- Sir.
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Sir #213
- Wouldn’t it be courteous to have that thing turned off?
- I’m at work, not at the theatre. Excuse me, sir.
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Sir #212
- Criminal dangerousness.
- What?
- Well, you don’t need a master’s degree in criminology to tell you that if somebody whacks you over the head and nicks your wallet that he’s dangerous.
- Little more to it than that, sir.
- Crackpot theories about why people do bad things were all the rage when I was a cadet.
- As, no doubt, were the twin innovations of suspects having motives and fingerprints.
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“I want to try,” James starts, then pauses, swallows heavily. “It. I want to try it.”
Robbie can feel his eyebrows rise. He’s pretty sure he knows what James is saying, but he had better clarify, just to be certain. “Try what, love?”
James rolls his eyes. “What we talked about earlier. Tying me up. I’d like you to tie me up, when we have sex.”
A Burning Patience is a wonderful James/Robbie fic.
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