A/N. This is written purely in response to a challenge set by some TR fans on twitter, set on the theme 'affair'. Now I couldn't possibly cheat on the Ormster, so am deviating from that slightly. This fic compensates for the lack of love shown in S8 ep 11 (Beneath the Surface). Enjoy! oh and it's a two parter :)
It had been a difficult day, an explosion on a bombsite. Forced to operate in the harshest of conditions, the sterile environment she was used to was a mere dream in the midst of all the debris, dust, risk of another explosion and slates falling off a roof not too far from where they were, huddled together trying to save the patient, which she did, much to her amazement.
As she stepped out of the ambulance, her once clean suit now covered in a thick layer of dust, she was relieved to find her husband standing there, waiting eagerly for the patient he'd been warned about. His face wasn't one of relief, instead his first thoughts were of the patient, barely acknowledging Jill's return. He rushed off, without so much a word of comfort. She felt alone, even a quiet word with her husband would've sufficed, but nothing. He didn't even check to see if she was ok, instead Ralph, her much liked and now well respected work colleague, himself injured in the second explosion, insisted that she got checked over, despite Jill's protestations.
The two doctors slowly made their way down to Jill's consulting room, amidst the sea of trollies that were now lining the corridors, Matron and Sister Brigid following them, just as Ralph had asked, eager to make sure the two doctors were ok, having spent most of the day in a dangerous situation.
They sat, Jill on her chair, and Ralph on the examining table behind, having his head wound cleaned and dressed. She felt exhausted, light headed, the experience still playing on her mind, but the one person she wanted most, was in theatre, completely unaware. She had insisted she was fine, a few scratches, in need of a change of clothes, but Matron was more insistent.
"Here. Have a drink Dr Weatherill.." She handed a mug of tea to the tired doctor who placed it on her desk, much welcomed, yet she hadn't the strength to lift it. She knelt down infront of her, almost looking for something, having satisfied herself that Ralph would now be ok.
"So, how are you feeling Doctor? You look exhausted" Matron felt her pulse, which was fine, waiting tentatively for Jill's response, but it was Ralph, who replied for her.
"She looked a bit wobbly in the Ambulance" He came closer, almost wishing her to say something. "That true Doctor?" Matron asked, yet Jill shook her head, adamant all was fine.
"Ok. If you do feel unwell, you will tell me won't you?" Ralph said, his voice providing a much needed comfort, as it had throughout the day. She liked Ralph, and having worked with him a lot recently, she hoped he'd become a partner. He provided something which the Royal desperately, for he was young, sensible, well liked. Jill nodded, trying not to let her weakness show too infront of someone she barely knew. Not in a personal capacity anyway.
"Thank you. For all your help today. Couldn't have managed that without you" She said, albeit quietly, having just watched Matron be called away. The two doctors were now alone with their thoughts, and each other. Ralph smiled, having now seen a side of Jill he thought he'd never see.
"Your most welcome. Enjoyed working with you." Jill smiled, having not recieved such a compliment for a while, part of her wishing it was Gordon that was sat infront of her.
"Does Gordon know you're ok?" There. Right there. That one question made Jill stop, and think of the right words. Does she tell the truth, or make it up a bit. She shook her head somewhat reluctantly, her response taking Ralph by surprise.
"He doesn't know? I thought he would've wanted to know you were ok. You could've been seriously hurt" He felt slightly angry by the fact that her beloved husband never even acknowledged her return, never mind ask after her.
"No. He never asked. Too busy in theatre. Have hardly spoken to him today. Just a little concern would've been nice. But nothing." She took a sip of her now cooled tea, looking up at Ralph, who had a concerned look on his face, his opinion of Gordon now changed, he wasn't as wonderful as he originally thought.
"Oh Jill. I'm sure he does care. Really. I'd have never expected him not too. He loves you." Jill turned to look at Ralph, her neck sore, every move was painful, a solitary tear falling down her cheek, hoping that once Gordon was finished he'd come looking for her, and take her home. All this hadn't gone unnoticed, and Ralph hoped the day would soon be over. He handed her a tissue, showing her that someone does care, and Ralph showed that many times throughout the day. Something she hadn't had from Gordon for some time.