#with: catherine cawood.

[whothefuckissarahlancashire]

Sarah Lancashire as Catherine Cawood in 'Happy Valley' [2014 - 2023]

[elliehopaunt]

In the long run, she should be included among the short list of actresses who truly elevated the craft- Streep, Duse, Bernhardt, Leigh, Hagen, Dench, and Page.

We are truly so fortunate to be living in the same time as this incredible artist. Not just an actor- an artist.

[lilyflowerhere]

I don't have type

Also me when she is a traumatized female detective

[iressails]

Happy Valley 0201 | Sarah Lancashire as Catherine Cawood

[crushermyheart]

Happy Valley x Spotify

[primonizuto]

HAPPY VALLEY, S01E01 Directed by Euros Lyn, written by Sally Wainwright

[instantespanoramicos]

My beautiful, deadly army

[smileysinmypocket]

[doriskilmanandthepinkicing]

“What genre of twat does that?”

[fuckyessarahlancashire]

"You tasered a bloke Sarg? What did it feel like?" "It was good, yeah"

[whothefuckissarahlancashire]

[iceafterdeath]

[savycon63]

I do love a woman in uniform😍🥰😉

[iressails]

Happy Valley 0306 | Sarah Lancashire as Catherine Cawood

[crushermyheart]

Happy Valley / Series 2 / Episode 6 / Catherine

[multifandomfix]

Arrest & Relaxation — Catherine Cawood

Summary: After your first arrest goes sideways, Catherine is there to help you through it and provide some encouragement.

Word Count: 886

Warnings: Minor injury, but mostly just fluff

The air was sharp and cold against your face, the grim northern wind biting through the damp streets. You clutched the cuffs in your hand, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your first arrest. It wasn’t just another milestone, it was the moment to prove that you were cut out for this. The sergeant at your side didn’t seem particularly fazed by the task ahead.

Catherine Cawood had been in the game longer than you’d been alive, or at least it felt that way. She moved with the kind of ease only someone with decades of experience could. For her, this was just another Thursday. For you, it was everything.

“There he is,” she muttered, gesturing with a subtle nod. The suspect —a petty thief, nothing overly dangerous— was loitering by the corner shop, stuffing his pockets with goods he had no intent to pay for.

Your breath hitched as Catherine’s voice cut through your focus. “Right. You go in first. Show me what you’ve got. I’ll be right behind.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With a quick nod, you stepped forward, attempting to channel every ounce of authority your training had drilled into you.

“Excuse me,” you said, your voice steady despite the hammering of your heart. “I need to have a word with you.”

The man turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he sized you up. Younger, smaller, less experienced. His lips curled into a smirk, and a pit formed in your stomach.

“Yeah? What about?”

You glanced back at Catherine, who stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her face unreadable. She gave you the faintest nod, and you pressed on. You decided it was best to cut to the chase.

“You’re under arrest for theft,” you said, reaching for his arm. “Come quietly, and—”

Before you could finish, he lashed out, his hand shoving yours away with surprising force. You stumbled back, your boot catching on uneven pavement. The ground came up fast, and you hit it with a dull thud, pain radiating from your shoulder as you skidded to a stop.

“Oi!” Catherine’s voice was sharp enough to cut through steel. The man froze for a moment, but only long enough to decide fleeing was his best option.

Catherine was on him in seconds, moving like a seasoned predator. He didn’t stand a chance. By the time you’d scrambled back to your feet, she had him pressed against the wall, cuffed and cursing.

“Bloody idiot,” she muttered, giving him a none-too-gentle shove toward the squad car as backup arrived to take him away.

She turned to you then, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched just long enough for you to feel the weight of your failure settle in.

“You alright,” she asked finally, her tone softer than you’d expected.

You nodded, though the sting in your shoulder and the scrape on your palm told a different story. “I’m fine. Caught me off guard.”

She didn’t look convinced. Without another word, she reached for your arm, her hands deft but gentle as she inspected the damage. The scrape wasn’t deep, but it was angry and raw, and you winced as her thumb brushed against the edge of it.

“Come on,” she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. “We’ll go and get you sorted.”

You followed her to the station, feeling small under the weight of your embarrassment. Catherine didn’t say much as she led you to the first aid kit, but there was no mistaking the way her eyes flicked to you every so often, as if checking to make sure you were still upright.

She sat you down in a chair, the fluorescent lights overhead casting a harsh glow over the room. Grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze, she crouched in front of you, her movements practiced and precise as if she’d done this hundreds of times. Hell, she probably had.

“This might sting,” she warned.

You bit back a wince as the antiseptic touched your skin, the sting sharp and immediate. Catherine worked quickly, wrapping your hand with care.

“You did alright,” she said after a moment, breaking the silence.

Your head snapped up, surprise evident on your face. “I fell and let him get away.”

“Yeah, well, that happens,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But you didn’t freeze up. You didn’t let him intimidate you. That counts for something.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you settled for a quiet “Thanks.”

Once she’d finished, she straightened up, planting her hands on her hips as she looked down at you. “Listen, you’re not gonna be perfect straight out of the gate. No one is. But you’ve got guts, and that’s half the battle. The rest comes with time.”

Her words settled something inside you, the weight of your earlier failure easing just a little.

“Thanks, Sarge,” you said, your voice steady.

She huffed a small laugh. “Call me Catherine, unless we’re on the job.”

From that day on, something shifted between you and Catherine. She kept an eye on you, offering quiet guidance when you needed it and sharp critiques when you deserved them. She didn’t coddle, but she didn’t leave you to flounder either. She took you under her wing, and you knew, deep down, that she wouldn’t let you fall again.

For anon

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