Rachel is slumped glumly in front of the monitor with her chin resting on her hands, marker pen slung on the desk so she can label each DVD with the specific acts of perversion it contains.
How long has she been doing this for now? It seemed like hours; probably was. At least her time with Sex Crimes had made it even more difficult to shock her.
Most of this was boring, a lot of it bizarre and some of it, well, some of it, okay, was pretty sordid stuff.
The door opens and Gill comes in. She stands behind her, hands on the back of her chair.
“How are you getting on?” she asks, her voice lifting a little in inquiry and Rachel resists the temptation to twist round to see the expression her face.
She doubts Gill would look at this any way other than impassively. Gill has probably seen a thousand times worse than this more times than Rachel had had hot dinners - or late night Weetabix.
Read the rest via the link in the description!