Chapter Text
Six years ago, after completing his pHD in Criminology, Theseus Scamander joined the British Police as a detective constable. He was on the career fast track; his recent promotion had made the twenty-nine year old the youngest officer in the history of the Met to achieve the rank of detective chief inspector. In staffing his taskforce, he’d found room in his salary cap for a junior DC. Venturing across the street to the Chelsea Station, he paid a visit to his older sister, Inspector Jacinta Olive Scamander, who was universally known as Jaco.
He walked into her office without knocking. ‘Inspector Scamander.'
‘Why are you here? Trying to pinch one of my staff?’
He raised his hands up in a mock surrender. ‘Guilty as charged.’
‘Well you’re in luck. I’ve got the ideal candidate.’
They were interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping on the door frame. ‘Excuse the interruption boss, but Jonesy’s put his back out. He’ll be off sick for the week,' Theseus heard a decidedly feminine voice say, in a Welsh lilt. Jaco tilted her head towards the Welshwoman, indicating that she was the recommended officer. He turned around to see whom the musical voice belonged to and saw…her…
‘Leta, would you mind ringing around for a replacement?’
‘Already done, boss. Helen’s coming back from her maternity leave early. She says she needs a break from the twins.’ The corners of Jaco's mouth lifted in a wry smile. ‘Well done, Leta.’ Jaco looked to her brother, who was staring unbrokenly at the radiant beauty. ‘Thee, have you met Constable Lestrange?’ Theseus opened his mouth to speak but no sound emerged. He shook his head repeatedly, in a ridiculously exaggerated fashion that was worthy of a Warner Brothers’ cartoon. Jaco sniggered.
‘Leta, this is my younger brother, DCI Theseus Scamander.’ He again attempted to say something, this time managing to emit a squeak. When Theseus touched Constable Lestrange’s outstretched hand, he felt the earth decelerate into slow motion. He’d intended to shake her hand but he bowed down and kissed it instead, gazing up into her eyes, like he was in a period drama. They were the biggest, deepest brown eyes he had ever seen; like infinite pools of melted dark chocolate. He yearned to row through her rivers of cacao, straight into her soul. Distracted by her beauty, he continued his handhold, taking in the perfection of her face; she had prominent cheekbones, a deliciously pouty mouth and braided dark hair, which was captured in an oversized bun. His eyes ran down her body to her feet, then up again to the tip of her head, several times in succession. Leta was small in stature; he estimated her height to be five-foot-two. He did not fail to notice how nicely her uniform flattered her slim form, and the petite, police issue boots that encased her feet. He returned his vision to her face and settled it there, drinking in her symmetrically seraphic features.
‘The DCI is looking for an additional body for his task force,' Jaco declared.
Leta was watching Theseus carefully. It was unusual for him to kiss her hand and even odder that he was still holding onto it, but she didn’t mind. She considered his actions to be gentlemanly and old fashioned. And he had other attributes; he was impressibly tall, and so handsome, with high cheekbones and a square jaw; she’d always had a weakness for redheads. And a DCI? He looks barely older than I am!
Jaco looked between Leta and her brother. The idiot is still holding her mitt! ‘Leta’s been coming in early to give us a HAND.’ Theseus could make out Jaco’s booming voice in the background, but was so focused on Leta’s loveliness that he failed to hear what his sister was saying. ‘Theseus,’ Jaco snapped, in the exact tone their mother had used on the rare occasions that he had misbehaved as a child. She succeeded in gaining his attention. ‘I was telling you what a great HAND Leta has been’, Jaco said, while holding up one of hers and pointing to it with the other index finger. Theseus finally got the message and dropped officer Lestrange’s hand so suddenly, it was as if it had erupted into flames. Jaco could barely believe her eyes. Fucknob. ‘Leta visited the local hock shops on her day off, and solved five break and enters!’
Having regained her hand, Leta stood to attention, frozen like a marble statue. After learning the posture at the Academy, she’d practiced it at home until she had perfected it. ‘Several proprietors had security video of the offender when he was attempting to fence the stolen goods. They were remarkably obliging.'
‘And she busted a ring of petty thefts,’ Jaco continued.
Still staring at Leta's face, Theseus noticed her cheeks reddening from the praise.
‘The Inspector kindly allowed me to leave early, before school was dismissed for the day. This gave me the opportunity to do some high street surveillance, in civvies.’
‘If I knew what you were up to, I would have given you the afternoon off!' Turning to her brother, she said, 'And Leta nicked four fucking micro-vandals.’
‘When the juvenilles took their spray paints out and proceeded to tag the wall, I could barely believe it, Sir. I filmed the whole thing from across the street.’
‘Leta’s got the little fuckers painting pretty murals, instead.’
‘It’s a Diversion Program that’s sponsored by local businesses. One of the shopkeepers informed me of it.’
‘So, Thee, you’ll be wanting a self-starter with initiative? A quick learner?’ Jaco turned to the young constable. ‘Leta, would you be interested in a secondment to DCI Scamander’s task force?’
‘I’d like that, Ma’am, providing that DCI Scamander is agreeable?’ He nodded so enthusiastically that it looked like his head would topple off his neck.