Tempered by Love

Chapter 11 Prospects

 

So much for dates made at the dry cleaners, Don thought as he drove to an upscale apartment building in the heart of Glesga. He flashed a tight smile at his date and then and walked Annie Calhoun to her door. They hadn't even made it to 8pm when the lovely brunette developed a 'headache.' Perhaps the thrills of police work hadn't been the best choice of conversation. He'd didn't even get a goodnight kiss. She extended her delicate hand for a quick shake, said, "bye," and then disappeared inside.

Disappointment kept him rooted on the wrong side of a closed door.This was not how he had planned to spend the night at all. He had no plan B. He'd already resigned from Metropolitan, so there was no hope of investigating a juicy murder case. Even a round of darts was out of the question. The gang at the warehouse had left on some secret mission. That left the option of getting drunk with strangers or finding a whore. Neither would look good to his new bosses.

"You need something, Pal?"

Don turned and faced the hulking male neighbour glaring at him. He sighed heavily. "Date didn't work out, just trying to figure out the rest of my evening."

"Maybe you should shift it then, yeah."

Don shrugged. The man was right, it was time to move on. "Right."

Outside he stared up at the clear sky. "I need a life," he muttered as he headed for the car.Twenty minutes of aimless driving put him on the far side of the Millennium Bridge. Decked out for the coming holidays, its twinkling lights acted as a beacon.  A new destination popped in his head. He crossed the bridge and made for the ultra-modern headquarters of the Scottish Police Authority. Even Scotland Yard was jealous of this place.

Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking garage, drove the ramps up to the eighth floor and chuckled when he found parking spot already labelled with his name. Other than the Chief of Detectives, Don had told no one, not even Rose, about applying for this job. Fifteen years experience, plus his latest job as a liaison between Torchwood and the Metropolitan police gave him a unique skill set to run the eight-man Special Incident Unit. Keeping Rose and everyone else in the dark until he announced it made things even better. A smile tugged at his lips. The party that followed made up a bit for the failure of this night.

He rather enjoyed walking through the entrance to the corridor leading to his office. He flashed his lanyard ID at a passing guard and pushed open the door to his new domain. Everything here was brand new and state of the art. The whole place still smelt of fresh paint. Three white boards and a holographic display took up one wall. Seven desks with the latest computers were ready for the members of a hand-picked team.

Don walked to the door bearing his name and a new title: Detective Chief Inspector Don Noble. A smile tugged at his lips as he opened the door and walked in. Nothing cluttered the desktop. A brand new flat screen computer monitor sat on the left side of the desk. His nameplate was properly centred at the edge. Everything he would need to be a good boss had already been placed in the desk or on the shelves.

Don walked over to the windows and looked out on a brightly lit grassy courtyard. The trees were leafless now, but in the summer it would be a good place to grab a cigarette or drink a cup of coffee. Then it dawned on him: he had no life. As great as getting this job made him feel, he was almost forty, single, and with no plans to make things any different. Loneliness washed over him. He sighed, glad that his mobile rang to distract him from the sudden urge to do something stupid.

"Katherine?" he said, surprised by her call. He hadn't heard from the McGregors in almost a month.

"They're coming home, Don. You need to come to the house."