He couldn't remember how it happened, it was too quick to process, one minute she was on top of the world and the next she was lying motionless on the ground. He was her partner, they were supposed to stick together, protect each other, he should have been there. He knew this feeling of guilt wouldn't leave him till she awoke to smile her trademark grin or her laugh ringing like bells to tell him it was just simply a bad humoured joke. He wouldn't mind if that was the case, not a single bit. Not even with the teasing that was sure to follow after her waking up, he could almost hear her voice - so soft and innocent in sound not even an angel could compare to her - laughing as she said "And I thought you said you didn't care for anyone," she really didn't understand the effect she had over him. Even if they had only known each other for a year and five months like she always reminded him when he said a year and a half - he already had planned what they would do on their anniversary.
But unless she got back up, their plans were in ruins, though that didn't matter to him right now. Right now she was fighting for her life he knew if death tried to take her he would have to drag her kicking and screaming, he smiled to himself at the thought. He knew he would follow her is she wasn't to make it, he owed his life to her on numerous occasions now even at the interview where she persuaded the boss to give him another chance. She didn't know he was angry that it wallet had just been stolen minutes before he was due to go inside the building, it was some urchin off the side of the busy streets. Then there were all the times she stopped the people from firing the gun at him for one reason or another and now she had taken a bullet for him; he knew he would have died there in a pool of his own blood if she had not done what she had done... and that terrified him.
He should have been used to it. By now especially in his line of work, it was rarely a completely risk-free job, both of them knew that. Now here he was standing in a well-lit, sterile white corridor with a light blue floor - he would have preferred a dark and dingy warehouse or a damp and dirty shack. Either or these places always gave him the heebie-jeebies even as a young child. He would never tell her his greatest fear was hospitals. Nevertheless, here he was sticking by her side, well as close as he was allowed considering she had been mtaken straight in for surgery which he obviously wasn't allowed to go into as well. He hated this feeling of hopelessness and self loathing if he had been paying more attention he would have seen their target with the pistol - she would never have had to push him out the way. He knew it would effect the entirety of their branch of agents she was the best.
He had tried to originally attempted to interrogate the nurse that had been putting the cast and sling onto his arm. No surgery had been needed it was a clean break in two in the middle of his lower left arm. Apparently it would take ten to twelve weeks to heal he betted it would be fine in eight weeks. Although putting the cast on his arm had been successful he was no where closer to finding out what state she was in he guessed it wasn't a good one but he had hoped for something more than "I'm not at liberty to say. Patient confidentiality and all," he hadn't even asked for her phone number. If she was there she would have chuckled at this probably calling him a player or told the girl he was strictly gay - he wasn't. Bisexual? yes. It had been the on going joke since his last boyfriend had freaked out at the idea of ever being with a female. Mainly after a close colleague of his had kissed him on the cheek at Christmas, but that hadn't been meant to last they broke up the next month saying he couldn't deal with seeing him get hurt as a field agent.
Now he could doing nothing though as the hands on the clock continued to turn he sighed. It was one of the things she had that he didn't. Love. She was happily married the pair were inseparable. He remembered calling him less than an hour after arriving at the hospital - St. Bartholomew's if he was correct - her husband had promptly let out a string of cruses and threats at him after he had finished explaining what had happened. He just hoped she would pull through so they could see each other again he had said he'd take the earliest flight possible. But that wasn't for another three days. The joys of it being the start of summer break back home every family there were going on holiday - to say the airlines were hectic was an understatement. He was a good man in his opinion. Moreover he was kind, caring and devoted to her - and dang good looking.
He ran his hand through his dark brown hair it had been three hours. That can't be good, he thought to himself. He then saw a young lady walking by it a lab styled jacket he jogged to catch up to her and placed his hand from his good arm on her shoulder "Hey doctor, my friend was in surgery from a shot wound do you know where she is? If... if she made it?" He asked her. She spun around shocked clearly taken back before she seemed to calm herself holding a sympathetic facial expressions: his stomach dropped, he feared the worst, now it seemed reality. Well Sh!t, he thought to himself as he gulped as he lowered his hand from her shoulder and hung his head low looking at the ground. She was dead and it was his fault, he knew it, why was he always such a complete and utter idiot? He should never have left her alone like he had "I'm sorry I just wasted your time Doc..." he started to say in a soft and broken voice before letting out a sob.
"No," the woman said looking at him. Confusion was all he felt tilting his head to the side - like he always did whilst think on something he didn't get, a bad habit her voice in his head reminded him - as his eyes met her face he realised she was rather red. Was she angry? Embarrassed? He couldn't read people well even when she tried to teach him. "Um... well what I mean is... I'm from the morgue... No I uh... I work in the morgue," she stuttered out. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly he felt relief flood his body till he was drowning in it. That's got to some indication she's not dead, he thought as a small smile grew on his face like a kid on Christmas. Realising as something wet ran down his right cheek he brushed his tears away as quickly as possible feeling his neck and face warm suspecting his face mirrored the colour of the lady working in the morgue's face. "I'm Molly," she said giving him a small smile.
"Molly you just made me the happiest man alive," he said grinning bringing her into a tight embrace as he spun her around. He didn't care how dodgy it sounded at the time either. He was brought back to reality hearing her laugh through it was more of a giggle probably from surprise. Gently he slowed his movement down he let her feet rest upon the ground once again but kept his hands on her waist till she regained her balanced. "I would kiss you right now if that wouldn't be completely awkward for the both of us," he said with a seriousness in his voice but no one would have taken him seriously with his ridiculous grin that was plastered over his face. He quickly pulled her into another hug before letting go of her, he felt slightly bad for embarrassing her in such away watching as she lowered her gaze towards her shoes. They seemed to become something of great interest to her as she became redder than beetroot.
It was suddenly then when it dawned on him exactly how close they were together. Taking a step back he cleared his throat "I should probably introduce myself now," he said as he fumbled to get his badge out of his inside jacket pocket without knocking his injured arm "CIA agent David Zima. Weird last name I know," he chuckled as he held out his badge that he kept in his wallet for her to see. She gave small laugh and a smile. Furrowing his eyebrows he looked at her, he never liked his last name it was odd, stupid and just utterly abnormal: but never had someone straight out laughed at it - he was rather offended by this. It was only when she took the badge and turned it placing it back in his hand did he realise why she had laughed. Closing his eyes cringing ever so slightly, sighing he look at her, scratching the bad of his neck with the hand holding the badge. "You have no idea how often that happens in real life. It's embarrassing honestly," he stated as he tried to turn it into a joke.
She bit her lips obviously trying to hide her smile "it's also your picture it's um... different," she said. He suddenly flipped it open to look at his ID to see a small stick man - if it could even have been identified as such - on a small piece of paper covering his photo.
"seriously what are we five," he mumbled sighing as he slid the card out of the wallet. When the paper didn't fall off he began trying to peel the paper off wrinkling his nose in disgust at it "okay this is just eww," he stated trying not to touch the sticky gum with his fingers. Suddenly the majority of it came off partially landing on his hand. He let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.
He looked up to her watching in amusement as "There's a bin down by the reception," Molly informed him. "And then I could help you find your friend," she finished off her suggestion he gave her a wide grin nodding gesturing with his hens for her to lead the way as he followed whilst trying to pry the gum off him fingers the entire way there. "Still no luck?" She asked him as they got to the front desk. She gave a small laugh as he dramatically threw it in the bin as I triumphant look on his face. Before gladly excepting the hand sanitiser from one of the receptionist ladies who gave him a rather odd and confused. "Hi Georgia my friend here is looking for his partner..." Molly began but ended up looking at him expectantly realising she never got her name earlier but he didn't notice this as he was to busy trying to slide his ID into his wallet. However, neither noticed the concerned look the receptionist gave to Molly at the mention of him having a partner knowing how easily she fell for guys and her luck when it came to that matter.
He looked up confused between the two women who looked at he expectantly "oh right... it'll be Lee. Mrs Charlotte Lee," he said betting there would be a better chance finding her by her full name. The receptionist then began typing in the name to check the patients list "It was a severe bullet wound if that helps in anyway," he explained to the lady not entirely sure why probably because of the silence. He never had liked silence he thought drumming his fingers on the desk as he leant against the wall as he casually looked around the rather spacious area though the blue uncomfortable chairs were rather full of those seeking appointments. It was to blandly decorated for his taste the plain white walls and the grey-blue Lino: the most interesting thing was a bright red box of child's toys in the corner obviously to try soothe their cries. Not that he blamed them he couldn't deal with a screeching toddler either he couldn't deal with them at that age and till they were nine years at least.
"I'm guessing she's married then being Mrs," Molly said trying to make conversation.
He nodded as he turned slightly to look at her letting out a sigh nodding running a hand through his hair "Yeah he's a decent guy," he said as Molly nodded with a smile.
He adverted his eyes from her as an awkward silence fell around the pair he was honestly glad when the receptionist gave him the room number breaking the silence. He thanked her as Molly agreed to show him what floor and direction her room was in knowing the agent would have had a difficult time trying to make his way there himself. He found his eyes wandering towards Molly looking at her features, she was an average looking girl in some ways like her lighter brown hair that was long but pulled back into a ponytail. She was also rather short no more than 5ft 4 he guessed with a small statue he guessed which was hidden under the large lab like jacket. Yet she seemed to have the biggest heart which he liked about her.
She stopped before he could process it and he ended up bumping into her which he was instantly apologising for checking over her to make sure she wasn't hurt. Both were blushing madly unsure what to do know "so thanks then," he said as she nods before he suddenly decides to take a risky move which would likely lead to him getting burn. "As I'll be in town for longer than expected do you feel like going for drinks or dinner?" he suggested to her making her blush reappear from earlier, she nodded with a small smile. He returned her smile "Great I'll give you my number and you can ring me when your free and we can set a date," he said as he began rummaging in his trouser pocket for a pen then pulling a notepad from his jacket pocket - an old habit from when he had been part of a police force just after he finished university. This is one of the times he didn't mind old habits especially one of the ones she always questioned him about.
He handed her the number which she graciously excepted blushing more than before. They talked a little longer till Molly looked over to a clock on the wall behind her she looked shocked and it wasn't till he turned around to realise that he had been wasting her time at work for an hour. He heard her mumble a quick goodbye as she hastily walked down the corridor to the elevator "Molly," he called out to her which she turned quickly to look at him. "It's nice meeting you and thank you for your help," he continued as he gave a small wave as she smiled at him before continuing on her way. He was glad that he had met her though he felt guilty for keeping her from her work she had managed to keep his mind off the matter at hand, Charlotte. He had hoped they would have opened the blinds or something, anything, he thought to himself guessing he would have a long wait ahead of him. Knowing even if he was allowed in she would likely be asleep or out of it at least.
It was twenty minutes later when they finally let him in the room saying they had stabilised her and had most stopped the blood from coming out. It was hard to believe he thought as he looked at all the different machines she seemed to be hooked up to. He was annoyed there was nothing more they could do for her other than say 'the rest is up to her' he remembered the snobby sounding doctor telling him. He still wasn't trilled of they're predicament but it was better than her not pulling through and him blaming himself more than he already was. However he quickly became bored watching over her sleeping form he began trying to analyse things like she did which he never understood. He sat glaring at the pen on the bed side table trying to figure anything interesting about it he knew if she was awake she could have told him who owned the pen. She was the brains of the pair though she was a good fighter.
There was a knock on the door which he called for them to come in. It was a man with greying hair. Perfect, he thought trying to come up with who he is he guessed from his tan he was a foreigner probably lost his way and he was in his early sixties. "Are you Mr David Zima?" the guy questioned him which he nodded in reply to as the man began to flick through a notebook he guessed he was trying to find a clean sheet. He pulled out a police badge from his pocket "I'm DI Lestrade from Scotland Yard. I'm here about the shooting," he said. Well I guess he isn't a foreigner he thought but his new question was why did it affect the Scottish police? However he nodded sitting up.
Lestrade looked like he was about to say something before he cut in "why does Scotland care about a shooting in London?" he questioned. He watched as the man in front of him look like he saw David grow a second head. Suddenly feeling more self conscious he began trying to check if he had anything on his face with his hand before asking "do I have something on my face," he questioned still oblivious to the actual reason.
"No you have nothing on your face, but Scotland Yard is London's police not Scotland's," Lestrade sighed at looking slightly annoyed he was sure he muttered something about him being a Yankee though he didn't really mind though he felt like joking that he wasn't a fan of baseball team.
"Right so I'm going to need a statement from you," Lestrade said.
"We we're CIA agent we were chasing this guy we were after and he shot her," he stated knowing he'd be in trouble giving anything else away. However the detective inspector just gave him an expectant look obviously wanting more information than that. David let out a sigh, knowing this was going to be a long night.