A Raid Gone South
A/N: My first fic for 2007. ;) Anyway, this came about when I heard that T J Ramini was leaving The Bill, and so to cheer myself up from the depression I was going to feel from Zain leaving, I decided to whump him. Zain, I mean. ;)
Please note, this assumes that Mickey and Zain are friends (so, this fic takes place before the Jordan Tomlin incident. I kinda latched onto that friendship when Mickey called Zain "Rich Boy." God, I love that quote!!) and also, here in Australia, we are 80 or so episodes behind the UK, so while this would fit well enough into the cannon here, it won't be compatible with the UK episodes. So, yay for AU! I haven't seen any of the episodes with Zain undercover yet//Wails//
Disclaimer: Most regrettably, Zain and the rest of the characters from the Bill are not mine, and no money is being made from this.
Checking that his mobile was turned off, Mickey slipped it into his pocket and pushed opened the hospital doors in front of him. Following the instructions he had been given by the nurse, Mickey headed down the corridor and stopped outside the third door. Poking his head into the room, he glanced around before giving a warm grin to the occupant in the bed.
"Mate! How are you feeling?" he asked DC Zain Nadir who was propped up in bed, reading a book. Hearing the sound of Mickey's voice, he looked up and a slight smile shot across his face.
"Mickey, thank God. I thought I was going to die of boredom in here!" Zain tossed the book aside before wincing in pain, one hand going to his side.
"Careful, Zain!" Mickey warned, concern evident on his face. "You were shot, remember? And the nurses will murder you if you manage to reopen the wound while still in hospital!"
Rolling his eyes, Zain sighed. "Thanks for the lecture, Mickey," he snapped back in his usual sarcastic manner. Looking around the sterile room, Zain shook his head. "I swear, this place is a bloody prison," he muttered, shooting a furious glance at the door that led to freedom. So close and yet so far.
"Well, Zain, that's what happens when you play the hero during a raid against high level smugglers." Mickey shook his head, remembering the disaster. Instead of a raid on a warehouse that was harbouring fairly low level stolen goods, it turned out that their storehouse was the drop off point for a gang of smugglers who imported everything from alcohol to artefacts. Bloody unreliable information, Mickey thought.
The pair had burst into the warehouse with their small uniform back up behind them before the DCs had realised their mistake. Having a gun pointed at them did really give it away. Surprised by the police, the guy with the gun had fired straight away, more on instinct than anything else. After firing, he had turned tail and run, only to be tackled a few minutes later by Dan.
Mickey had felt his heart stop and his feet glue themselves to the floor when the sound of gun fire had rung out. Thankfully, Zain had kept his wits about him, pushing Mickey aside an instant before the trigger had been pulled. The dull sound of his mate crumpling to the ground still rang in his ears and Mickey remembered the fear that had gripped his heart for a moment, watching his mate lie still.
Uniform had sprung into action, arresting the gang who seemed too stunned to function properly, but to Mickey the rest of the raid was a blur, and all he could remember was yelling for someone to get an ambulance, before kneeling beside Zain and telling him he was going to be alright, the idiot, and why did he have to be so bloody careless.
"Mickey? You alright?" Zain's voice broke through his thoughts and the man blinked, eyes focussing on his friend.
"Am I alright? I should be asking you that. You were the one who was injured!" Mickey retorted, raising his eyes brows and snorting.
"I was only shot in the side..." Zain replied, looking slightly miffed at being patronized.
"Zain, you never use the words 'only' and 'shot' in the same sentence." Shaking his head, Mickey rolled his eyes at Zain's expression before noticing the title of the book on the bedside table.
"The Lord of the Rings? I didn't have you down as a fantasy nut," Mickey commented, picking up the book and reading the back with, a bemused expression dancing across his face. Somehow, hobbits and Zain simply didn't mix. A smile formed on Mickey's mouth at that visual.
"My sister's idea." Zain shrugged ruefully and then shuddered, his breath coming out in a hiss as he aggravated his wound. He gritted his teeth together, and set his face in an angry scowl. How he hated showing weakness…
"Zain, you alright?" Mickey asked, concerned for his friend. "Should I get the nurse?"
"No, I- I'm fine." Zain shook his head, the words coming out in a slight gasp. Mickey grabbed his okay shoulder, a gesture of comfort, wishing he could do more. Just as he was about to ignore him and get the nurse to come and give Zain a pina colada of pain killers (risking the wrath of Zain when he got back to work, everyone still remembered the 'Suzie' incident, Mickey certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of a soggy sandwich when he was starving and drowning under paper work), his friend finally seemed to relax. The DC's muscles unclenched and the grimace Zain had been wearing was replaced by slight panting. His laboured breathes slowly steadied and he opened his eyes, blinking as though he hadn't realised he had closed them.
"T-thanks, Mickey," Zain gave his friend a rare, genuine smile and Mickey looked at him curiously.
"What do you mean, 'thank you'? I should be the one thanking you! You could well have saved my life back there. And you've been a good mate to me since I came back to Sun Hill. A sarcastic, arrogant mate, but a mate none the less." Mickey finished his speech and sat back in the chair next to the injured man with a bemused expression on his face. Zain looked both shocked and confused, two very alien feelings for the proud DC.
"Thanks, Mickey," Zain replied after a moment, blinking and swallowing his pride. "And…Uh, you've been a good friend too. I…I've been undercover for awhile, and I haven't had a good mate for awhile, apart from you and Phil and…" Zain broke off, and Mickey snorted. The 'Rich Boy' certainly didn't do personal very well.
Nodding once, Mickey leaned over and gently clapped him on the shoulder, showing that he understood.
"Thanks…" Zain muttered again and Mickey smiled lightly, shaking his head. A few moments passed in companionable silence before Zain looked up at the clock on the wall and then at his friend, frowning. "Mickey, what are you doing here? It's ten o'clock; you're supposed to be at Sun Hill."
Laughing, Mickey shook his head. "You're just noticing this now? I took the day off, called in 'sick'. Don't blow me out of the water, yeah? I wanted to see how you were. And the rest of the station is pretty worried."
Sighing, Zain shot a look at Mickey before chuckling lightly as well, careful not to jar his wound. "Yeah, I know. Phil and Sam dropped in last night. It was hilarious. They finally seem to have gotten their act together. Phil was barely able to keep his hands off her and I haven't seen Sam that giggly since we had that massive celebration down at the pub when we caught those counterfeiters. Scandalous." Zain had adopted a mock aristocratic tone by now, eyes alight with amusement.
Mickey snorted, shaking his head. "I don't know, mate. That seems to be pot calling the kettle black, especially since I saw you and a certain blonde Dutch translator lip locked outside the station last week."
Zain's eyes widened and he gaped at Mickey as the other DC threw back his head and laughed. Scowling, Zain crossed his arms over his chest, mindful of his wound, his keen gaze searching the room for something he could hurl at Mickey. "Leave Rahasia out of this. I don't see you with a girlfriend."
Mickey simply smirked. "You remember Mia, the press officer?" he asked innocently.
Zain shook his head. "No. Mickey, you got a girlfriend? Congratulations, I'm impressed, not to mention surprised."
With an expression of mock hurt on his face, Mickey opened his mouth; however any further conversation was interrupted by the door to Zain's room opening and a group of people walking in. Zain's family Mickey guessed. His unspoken question was answered by a nod from Zain and a glare from the eldest man in the group, his scowl so similar to his son's. Leaping to his feet, Mickey licked his lips, suddenly feeling very intimidated
"Listen mate, I've gotta go, but if you want, I can stop by here again tonight, smuggle in some decent food?"
"Thank you," Zain whispered, his tone dripping relief.
Mickey grinned and winked at his friend. "Couldn't leave you eating hospital food. That's nothing short of torture. Now listen, mate, you rest up and get better soon. Who else am I going to have watching my back, Rich Boy?" The last two words extracted a chuckle from Zain at the good humoured ribbing and disapproving mutters from his family. Heading for the door, Mickey turned and gave Zain one last wave before he left.
Yes, Mickey mused as he waited for the elevator, his friend, DC Zain Nadir, was a posh, arrogant, sarcastic Rich Boy, but there was no one else he wanted out there, catching crims, with him.
Finis
A/N: Not really sure about the ending, but hey, this fic was written to make my muse come back from her vacation with my motivation, so I think it turned out pretty well. Please leave a review, and let me known what you thought! ;)
And I also have a multi chapter Zain fanfic in the works. His old informant friend Chez (remember him?) comes back, and things just end up going rather down hill for poor Zain. Mickey, Phil and other co-star! ;) It will be an AU (As all my TB fanfics are) in that there never was a Kristen Shaw.