Chapter Text
After a hectic few weeks of crime-fighting, it was finally time for the team to have a Christmas dinner together in the station canteen. It was rare that they all got to eat together especially during work hours, so they were glad when after working all morning, they had a chance for some nice warm festive food.
When they arrived, the table was laid out with Christmas crackers and reindeer napkins as well as a small amount of alcohol.
“Looks nice,” Riley said as she and Buchan sat next to each other on one side of the table whilst Miles opted immediately for the head of the table. Chandler found the seat nearest him whilst Kent practically wrestled Mansell to get the seat next to his boss, meaning that Mansell had no option but the other head end of the table.
“Peace and goodwill to all men, Kent.”
Kent smirked. “I don’t like the end of the table.”
“Sure, that’s the reason.”
Chandler was staring down at the tacky napkins.
“Not like one of your club spreads, I bet,” Miles said. “Only one knife and fork here, boss. No starters, no mains, just a small turkey dinner and all the light trimmings.”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Time off work, free dinner and a bit of plonk, what’s not to love?” Riley said.
As the dinner was laid out there was a series of oohs as the gravy was poured over the roast meat and potatoes.
“Bit more on my Yorkshire pud, waiter,” Mansell said.
Soon their plates were full, their drinks were poured and they all raised their glasses together.
“Cheers!” Miles shouted to which they all repeated except Chandler who copied the action but not the word.
“Before we tuck in… we should—” Miles began but was interrupted.
“—Say a prayer?” asked Buchan.
“No, I meant pull the crackers. It’s not right otherwise.”
Riley and Mansell pulled a cracker where Riley got the better of it, it made its ‘bang’ and then a hat, joke and a little object fell out. “Oh, a mini screwdriver, how handy,” she said with a laugh.
“Should be Mansell’s,” Kent muttered.
“Because I like a screw, yeah, nice one, Kent.”
Miles pulled a cracker with Buchan to which Buchan lost, meaning Miles had won a little mirror. “Very handy,” he said. He looked at the tiny bit of paper. “What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.”
They all laughed at how bad the joke was.
“Want to pull one with me, sir?” Kent asked Chandler who seemed to be a bit of a daze watching the others pull the crackers and place colourful paper crowns onto their heads.
They grabbed either end of the red and decorated tube and pulled tightly but Kent wanted it a little more and he pulled it away. “Sorry, sir,” he said, reaching to grab his suitable purple crown and looking at the prize. “Paperclips,” he said. “Well, I guess I can use these.” He placed them into his pocket.
“Bet you have the luxury ones at the club,” Miles said to Chandler. “And what is it, real crowns?” he laughed.
“Miles, I don’t know what you must think I’m like. I’m fine with this,” he said, pulling a cracker with Miles and placing the cheap paper red crown onto his head just to prove he was the same an any of the others.
“What’s your prize, sir?” asked Riley.
“A little torch,” he said, looking at the tiny item. In truth, it had been years since he’s had a normal Christmas with normal Christmas crackers. The dinner at the club had crackers but they had gifts like watches and cufflinks inside. Still, he knew he preferred this way if he had to choose.
“That’ll come in handy, Joe,” Buchan said, “when you’re chasing some criminal down a dark alleyway.”
He smiled and placed it on the table. “So, shall we eat?”
Everyone nodded hungrily, and Mansell’s stomach was already rumbling loudly for having skipped breakfast, so they all grabbed their knives and forks and began to tuck in.
Miles spoke with his mouth full as he held the potato onto his fork, waving it in the air. “Not as nice roasties as my Judy’s but still, they’re quite good.”
“Stuffing’s good,” said Buchan.
“Yeah, and the turkey’s not bad,” Kent said. “Better than last year’s. Do you remember that really tough thing?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t get it down. That was probably the worst thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” Mansell laughed at himself.
“Probably?” Riley slapped him on the arm. “You dirty bugger!” She grabbed the bottle of wine and began pouring another glass.
“Lay easy on that,” Chandler said, cutting his meat into tiny portions with precision. “We don’t want to be drunk for the rest of the day. It wouldn’t look professional.”
“No, sir, just the one more. I’m behaving myself.”
There was silence for a few moments except the sounds of cutlery against dinner plates and the chatter from the uniformed officers on the next table. Miles, as usual, was the first to begin the conversation.
“You can’t beat a Christmas dinner, can you?” he said. He looked at Chandler. “You not want yours? You’ve hardly touched it.”
“Oh, sorry, there’s nothing wrong with it, I’m just not that hungry.”
“Do you want one of my roasties, sir, you may have a hard one or something?” Kent asked.
He shoved Mansell when he began sniggering beside him.
“Oh, no, no, thank you, Kent, it’s quite big enough.”
Mansell and Riley looked at one another and burst into laughter. Miles, cottoning on to the humour, began to laugh with them. Kent and Chandler, caught each other’s expression and looked away quickly.
“Save the crackers, would you?” Buchan asked.
“What for?” asked Miles.
“I’ll patch them together and use them again next year. It’s best to re-use.”
“Sounds more like you’re a cheapskate, Buchan.”
“Miles!” Chandler said. “If Ed wishes to be frugal then we should respect that.”
Miles glanced at the others and mimed doing up his mouth.
“So, do did you have big family Christmases when you were growing up, sir?” Riley asked, wanting to know more about her boss. She’d known Ray for many years so knew him well. Mansell and her had become close over time, she’d recently become friends with Buchan, and she even managed to pry information out of Kent about his Christmas experiences but Chandler was the elusive one, the private man who never talked about his past.
Chandler looked up, not expecting the question. “Oh, er…yes, we used to all get together, before,” He coughed lightly as though he were ashamed or embarrassed or upset, Riley wasn’t sure which. “Before my father died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to bring it all up.”
“No, no, it’s alright, Meg. They were good Christmases. I look back on them fondly.”
Attempting to change the subject, Riley turned her attentions to Kent, another who was quiet and not forthcoming with information. “Did you and Erica fight over gifts at Christmas?”
Kent smiled. “Not really, we didn’t like the same stuff. But she painted a wall of my castle greyskull pink just to annoy me, so I shaved the head of one of her barbies.”
Mansell laughed. “Classic.”
Chandler enjoyed listening to the others speak of their Christmases even though he felt a little envious. He wasn’t used to this kind of camaraderie but over the years he found his little team was starting to feel like a real family. Miles the overbearing dad who likes to take over the turkey cutting, Riley the mum, making sure everyone is happy, Buchan the odd uncle who always has a story to tell, Mansell the layabout brother, turning up so he can eat, drink and kiss a girl under the mistletoe. And finally, Kent, he was the…he wasn’t sure what Kent was to him. The friend? The…boyfriend? And where was his place in all of it? He shook his confused thoughts away and instead looked at the group, his team, his family. They didn’t need to be defined. He watched them as they laughed and chatted and hugged. He clinked his glass against theirs as they toasted in the Christmas week. They would no doubt make this a tradition and for once he was happy with it.