Hey guys! This is a bit of a break from my usual style, a multi-chapter fic which isn't heavy on the angst and sex - mostly a friendship fic with romance at the end. Hope you enjoy!
Gabrielle Jaeger pulled into the driveway of the house she shared with her colleague and best friend Jack Quade, prepared for a fight. She was not just going to stand around while he drank himself into oblivion or worse, started bringing random women into her home. In the last few weeks he had become withdrawn and moody following the death of one of his patients. Not even being exonerated by the hospital board had lifted his spirits.
She had seen him go through something like this before. Well, not personally – when he had gone off the rails a year ago, he had been living with his old flatmate, Dan Goldman. But Dan had frequently expressed his concern that Jack was using booze and women to cope with his pain, and Gabrielle herself had seen the consequences of his destructive behaviour after he had seduced one of the best temps she'd ever had and then humiliated her into quitting. Of course, she now knew that it was because he had been reliving the sexual abuse he had suffered as a teenager, but that only concerned her more. Jack had proven he dealt with emotional trauma by drinking and sleeping around, and she didn't want to see him go down that road again.
Every so often, she was surprised at how deeply she felt for him. At first she had been a bit wary at taking him on as a boarder because of his history of alcohol and women, but at the time, she had been desperate to put a buffer between herself and her ex-boyfriend Steve. Subconsciously bracing herself for a parade of women and empty beer bottles – actually not much worse than Steve – she had been pleasantly surprised to find a great cook, excellent listener and sweet, loyal friend who opened her mind to different things and opened her heart to being loved. Which was why it killed her to see him sliding down a slope of self-pity.
She had a plan. He was already on a forced sabbatical ordered by his boss, the legendary and fearsome Frank Campion, head of the ED of All Saints Western General, so the fact that he was no longer in Sydney wouldn't be noticed. And she had already told Frank that her father was sick and she needed to take a few weeks off to help him through his convalescence. An outright lie – she had spoken to her father a few days ago, to get his OK for her plan, and he was in excellent health – but Frank didn't know that. What Jack needed, she decided, was time away from the stress of the job, somewhere he could learn and hard work and relaxing at the end of the day. The guy had grown up getting by on his phenomenal intelligence, his problem was that he thought too much. A few hours doing real labour and he'd be too tired to think, and fifty kilometres to the nearest town and pharmacy, he'd have trouble getting hold of the diazepam he was becoming increasingly dependant on to sleep at night.
She let herself in the house, not surprised to see Jack on the couch, working his way through a carton of beer, watching something inane on TV. She frowned. Jack might spend too much time thinking, but watching stupid daytime TV wasn't good for him, either. She wondered when he had last shaved. He used to be so meticulous about his looks. She remembered, feeling herself blushing a little, how smooth his face had been when she'd kissed him. God help her, she'd wondered more than once what it would be like to go to bed with someone who took as much care of his body as Jack did. Now... he was still a good-looking man, but not as obviously so as he had been just a few weeks ago.
He barely glanced at her when she came in, whereas previously he would at least smile warmly, usually get up. He had lost all interest in doing – well, anything, really. "I want you to pack for a few weeks," she said abruptly. "Casual clothes, nothing you don't want getting dirty, something for church and something for a pub. A country pub, not a city bar that you're used to."
He finally looked at her properly, but it was a blank look. "Huh?"
"I said pack for a few weeks. Casual –"
He waved impatiently at her. "Yeah. I heard you. I just don't understand why."
"'Cos I'm taking you up to my dad's place for a break."
He made a face. The idea of being in the middle of nowhere definitely did not appeal to him. "Why would I do that?" he asked irritably.
"'Cos you're destroying yourself. Every day I come home and you're staring at that TV, drunk most of the time. How long before you start bringing strange women home?" she demanded to know. Or worse, took it upon himself to seduce another of her staff.
His eyes flashed indignantly; finally, she'd gotten a reaction other than self-pity or apathy. "I'd never do that to you!" he said.
"Yeah? You did it to Dan," Gabrielle reminded him. "You're not doing anything so you may as well have a change of scenery."
"No."
"Fine. Move out then. I won't have you trash your life under my roof."
"You can't throw me out because I won't go to your dinky little farm!"
"Yeah? Watch me. You don't have a formal lease, remember? You can come to the farm with me or you can get out, it's your choice."
Jack glowered at her. It wasn't like he was hurting her and anyway, if Frank hadn't insisted that he take a break, he would be working and wouldn't have time to get drunk every day. But... she had a point. He was doing nothing with his life and maybe a change of scenery would do him good. Besides, he liked living with Gabrielle. He may not have demonstrated it lately, but he enjoyed having her around, cooking with her, having someone to talk to at the end of the day. He especially liked the way she'd curl up against him when they were watching a movie. He didn't want to lose that. "Fine," he said grudgingly. "But I'm driving."
Gabrielle smiled sweetly. "We'll see about that."
"Tired yet?" she asked two days later. There was no way she was taking Jack's car, which despite being his pride-and-joy, was a city car. She insisted on taking her four-wheel drive. She'd let him drive, mostly because it amused her to watch him struggle with the car. It amused her even more that he had to strength to control the steering wheel, he pushed enough weights at the gym, but he was so used to a small car with power steering and –
"What's so funny?" he asked, catching her grin out of the corner of his eye and scowling.
"You. Looks like you can't do everything after all."
"Ha-ha, Miss What-does-the-horsie-do?" he retorted. He had been trying to teach her chess and hadn't been able to get her out of the habit of calling the pieces 'horsie' and 'castle'. Just wait until they got back to civilisation, he'd think of a dozen ways to make her feel like an unsophisticated country hick.
"Speaking of which," she asked slyly, her grin widening. "When was the last time you rode a horse?"
"Um... does a pony count?"
At this, Gabrielle couldn't help laughing. Jack was a good one-ninety centimetres and pushing a hundred kilos. She suspected the last time he'd been small enough to ride a pony had been when he'd been a child, and she bet it had been one of those docile creatures that you got at school fairs. It didn't exactly compare to a real horse. She remembered when they'd sponsored this city kid, her and her sister had thoroughly enjoyed putting her through her paces...
"Whatcha thinking about?" Jack asked, tuning in to her suddenly deflated mood.
"Just... someone who died."[LE1]
"Sorry."
"Not your fault." She cringed as Jack swerved slightly. "OK, macho man time is over," she directed, glad to have her mind on other things. "Pull over at the next rest stop."
"But –
"My car, my rules," she said in the same no-nonsense tone she used for her patients. She thought Jack looked relieved to have her take charge; knowing him, he was too proud to admit he was struggling with the more powerful car.
They got to the farm just as the sun was going down. Jack was looking tired, or maybe just bored. He wasn't the type who liked just sitting around – or at least, he hadn't been, until recently.
You'd think he'd have gotten used to it since Frank had forced him onto sabbatical.
Her father and brother greeted her at the front of the house. They both hugged Gabrielle warmly. "You look good," he said. "But when was the last time you ate proper food?" he asked. Russel Jaeger was convinced that there wasn't wholesome food to be found the width and breadth of Sydney.
"I'm eating well, dad," she said. "Jack's almost as fussy about his food being fresh as you are." Or at least, he had been. Lately he had taken to surviving on take-out. That was when beer didn't give him all the calories he needed.
"This must be the Jack you've told me so much about," Russel said, looking over the younger man critically. It was obvious he was in good shape, and Gabrielle had bullied him into shaving and getting the dirt under his nails, but there was something in his eyes... Gabrielle had been upfront that she had a good friend who was going through some personal issues and needed some time-out, and Russel had taken the opportunity to have his little girl home for a few weeks. Instinct told him Jack was fundamentally a decent bloke... but he'd be keeping his eye out on his anyway.
Jack tried not to tense up when he felt Russel giving him a detailed once-over. He didn't like men looking at him, and the way Russel was taking him in made him feel like he was a piece of meat on display. Realising he'd clenched his fists and shoved them into the pockets of his jeans, he pulled them out and extended his hand to shake Russel's. Bloody hell, the guy had a strong grip. Jack restrained from flinching, knowing Russel was the kind of man who put a lot of stock in handshakes.
"So you're the man my little girl talks so much about," he said.
"Dad!" Gabrielle protested, embarrassed. She didn't talk about him that much, did she? And so what if she did – they were colleagues, housemates and good friends, they spent a lot of time together. He was a big part of her life – the biggest part of her day-to-day life. She was allowed to talk about him.
"It's OK," Jack said, extracting his hand and discreetly flexing his fingers to make sure nothing was bruised – or fractured. "My sister thinks we spend too much time together. I think she's jealous. We only got to know each other a few years ago, and I don't think she likes there being any other woman in my life, even just a mate."
"I'm sorry, you only met a few years ago?" Russel asked.
Crap, Jack thought. Now he'd have to explain. Well, it wasn't like he was trying to impress Russel... or that Gabrielle could hold telling the truth about his family situation against him. "She my half-sister," Jack explained. "I was raised by my dad so I didn't realise she existed until my mum was dying and she tracked me down."
"You're mothers dead?"
"Yeah."
"Dad, I don't think this is the most ideal first conversation," Gabrielle cut in. "Do you need any help with dinner?"
"No, Billy and Gina have taken care of that. They're almost as excited to see you as we are." Billy and Gina were the couple Russel had employed to keep the house and garden in order and prepare meals. Since the death of Gabrielle and Ben's mother, Russel had found it difficult to both run the arm and take care of the house, and a live-in couple was the perfect solution. And Gina cooked almost as well as his late wife had.
She grabbed Jack's wrist. "C'mon, I want you to meet Gina and Billy. They're like an aunt and uncle to me."
She led Jack into the house. He had to admit, it was more modern than what he was expecting, and he felt judgemental for expecting some wooden thatched cottage. "Gina, it's me, Gabby," she called through the house. "I've brought a friend and I've told him all about country hospitality so you'd better come through for me." She pulled Jack into the kitchen to be met by a pleasant-looking woman who Jack guessed to be in her mid-thirties. "Jack, this is Gina. The house wouldn't run without her and she practically raised me and Ben."
Before Jack could shake her hand, Gina held up flour-coated hands. She looked him over with the same interest Russel had, but less critically. "You didn't tell him not to wear white?" she asked.
"I told him, but he didn't listen. I think we may have to go into town and kit him out all over again," she said, smiling, even if it was at Jack's expense.
Jack resisted the urge to scowl. He had no intention of doing anything that got his white and pale-blue shirts dirty, so what was she having a go at me for? "I'm just teasing you, Jack," Gabrielle said playfully. She was aware that his back was up a little, but it was only the beginning of what he was in for if he didn't trust her when she said white shirts, especially the expensive ones he preferred, were not something he should be wearing around a farm. She turned to Gina. "Smells great. Roast beef?"
"Of course. What else would I make for your homecoming?"
"Gina, I'm not home for good. We're just here for a few weeks." She knew that her dad would have told Gina and Billy that she was bringing a friend for some R&R, so she didn't bother to go into it again – and she knew Jack wasn't comfortable having what he considered to be his inability to get his act together broadcast to all and sundry.
"I know... but I still wanted to do something nice for you."
"I appreciate that. Jack, you've never tried anyone's roast beef like Gina's," she said.
"You're forgetting that I've mostly lived by myself my whole adult life, I didn't have a lot of time for something like a roast." That made him think of Mary and the fact he used to go over there usually once a week because she always insisted that she made too much – he realised now that she intentionally bought too much to begin with. God, he missed her.
Gabrielle noticed Jack's sudden flat mood and she was pretty sure she knew where it came from. She discreetly threaded her fingers through his and squeezed his hand[LE2] , hoping Gina didn't notice it and report back to her dad.
Gina noticed it, but decided not to say anything, either to Gabrielle or Russel. At least for the moment. The two of them had the oddest body language. They were obviously close, close enough to hold hands, but not together. She remembered Steve; she hadn't liked him from the beginning. But Jack... he was tired, he was distracted over something... but it was still obvious that he cared about Gabrielle – more than Steve ever had. "Why don't you go clean up before dinner?" Gina suggested. "You must have been driving a while."
"Yeah, you should have seen city boy over here trying to handle an all-wheel drive," Gabrielle cracked. Jack glared at her, and she smiled sweetly. They were on her turf now. "Look, I'll show you to your room," she finally relented, figuring she couldn't be too hard on him, he was tired and cranky. "You'll be sharing a bathroom with me and Ben but there's a lock on it," she added when he made a face. He hadn't had to share a bathroom in years. "Have a shower and rest for a bit before dinner."
Jack didn't want to admit it, but he was tired and he did feel scungy. Too tired and scungy to care much that his was a single bed, something else he hadn't had to stoop to in years. The hot water felt good and afterwards, he felt a lot more refreshed and guilty for snapping at Gabrielle. He had been hot and irritable and taken it out on her. "Can I help with anything?" he asked.
"Not in my kitchen," Gina said in a tone that Jack knew to obey. She reminded him of how possessive Mary had been over her kitchen whenever he'd offered his assistance. He retreated to the adjoining dining room and watched and listened. Gabrielle had mentioned Gina a few times, but not enough to give Jack the impression that she looked up to the woman like a mother – or at least an older sister. He suddenly wished he had such a person in his life... maybe it wouldn't have turned out as badly as it had.
He was surprised at how hungry he was when they sat down to roast beef with both roasted and steamed vegetables. "Sorry," he said guiltily when he noticed both Gina and Russel looking at him. Gabrielle was attempting to hide a smile. Two days without beer screwing with his calorie count and he appetite was being restored. "Gina, this is delicious."
"Gabrielle doesn't cook as well, after all I taught her?" Gina asked pointedly, eyeing the woman she had taught to cook like a good country girl.
"She does, I just haven't had much of an appetite lately," Jack admitted.
"Couple of days here should fix that," Russel said slyly. Gabrielle had requested Jack be assigned the most labour-intensive tasks he could handle. She bet farm labour would be a lot more taxing than the equivalent effort required for pumping weights in an air-conditioned gym.
"Do you play cricket?" Ben asked. "'Cos we have our own little club organised – probably not what you're used to, but we have fun."
"No, I'm not a big sports person," Jack admitted.
"I could teach you," Ben offered.
Billy smirked. "Ben fancies himself to be a future Shane Warne," he said.
"Don't bother with modern cultural references, Billy," Gabrielle piped up. "Dickens is the most modern writer he knows of."
Jack poked his tongue out of her in the playful way he had once done, before everything had happened. "I know who Shane Warne is, thankyouverymuch."
"And you admire him?" Russel said, an edge to his voice that Jack couldn't quite fathom.
"I don't think it's right that sports and movie stars get so much money and acclaim when doctors are constantly restricted by budget cuts, that scientists have to work on a pittance to discover cures for cancer and AIDS. What's more important, saving lives or idolising someone for swinging a bat?" he asked. "Sorry," he added, realising he may have stepped on these people's toes. "We got put through the grinder by admin earlier this year. It can be trying."
"That's not what dad was talking about, Jack," Ben clarified. "Dad doesn't think much of men who can't remain faithful." He shrugged. "I don't think it makes any difference to his ability to – as you say – swing a bat."
"What about you, Jack?" Russel asked. "You must have come across plenty of such... men." He spoke the last word as if he didn't think anyone who played around deserved the word, and Jack realised where Russel's animosity came from. Jack realised he was going to have to tread carefully. After all, one of his former mentors, Richard Craig, had been a compulsive womaniser, and that hadn't stopped him from being a brilliant surgeon.
"Of course I have," he said. "I'm sorry to say there's a certain sense of entitlement among doctors, especially surgeons – male and female," he added, thinking of Bianca Frost. "That doesn't stop them from being good at what they do and a lot of people would be dead if we struck off every man who cheated on his wife. But that doesn't mean I'd let my sister date them... or any female friend of mine," he added, stealing a sideways glance at Gabrielle.
"You don't agree with it?" Russel asked.
Jack shook his head. He'd been cheated on, he knew how much it sucked – and he knew how much Steve's infidelity had stunted Gabrielle's sense of self-worth when it came to men. "If people want to spend their lives playing around, that's their prerogative. But if that's what they want, they shouldn't commit to anyone else. It only leads to tears."
"You sound as if you know what you're talking about."
Now Jack was squirming. He wasn't to know that Russel had long ago honed his interrogation skills to a fine art when it came to finding out where any man in his daughter's age bracket stood about infidelity. Nor was he to know that Gabrielle was sympathetic towards him. She knew her father vetted anyone she was even remotely interested in, but she hadn't realised that the fact she had brought Jack home for a break looked in his eyes like it was more serious than mere friendship. "My dad played around a lot," he finally admitted. "My step-mother couldn't get over it and wouldn't leave." In that statement he made it clear that he was the result of such playing-around. "Dad's actions made everyone in the family miserable, except maybe himself. I never want to put that kind of misery on someone."
There was a deep silence before Gabrielle blundered in with, "Gina, I don't suppose you made anything for dessert?"
"Of course I did," Gina said cheerfully. "Come and held prepare. Ben, you too. About time you learnt you way around the kitchen."
It was a command to get him out of the dining room, which Ben got all too clearly. Billy too, making his excuses to go to the bathroom, leaving Jack and Russel. "That was mean," Jack said. "I'm not Steve and I resent being interrogated like I am."
Russel was surprised. "You know about Steve?"
"Of course I do. She's my best friend, she tells me everything. I get that it was a lousy thing and you want to protect her but – look, it's not even like there's anything going on between us. We're just mates and even if we weren't, I wouldn't hurt her. I told you I'd never put that on someone. I've definitely made mistakes in relationships, but I have never crossed that line and I never will. You have no idea –" he clenched his fists under the table and willed himself to calm down. Russel could be concerned for his daughter's welfare til the cows came home, be aware of how badly Steve had broken her heart far more than Jack ever would, but he would never have a clue just how vicious an openly cuckolded spouse could be.
At that moment, Gina, Gabrielle and Ben came back into the dining room with bowls steaming with apple crumble. Gabrielle knelt by Jack's chair and squeezed his shoulder. "You alright?" she asked sympathetically.
"Fine," he said, irritable again.
"We'll talk after dinner, OK? Dad shouldn't have pushed you like that."
"Whatever." He was too irritable to care that his shortness caused her to flinch as if he'd struck her.
Dessert went smoothly, with Gabrielle and Gina determined to keep the conversation light. "Jack, you look exhausted, you should get some rest," Gina said. "You'll be woken up early so you should get some sleep while you can. Tomorrow's going to be a big day. It's Friday, Gabrielle, you came at a good time."
At this, Gabrielle's face lit up. She had been so busy worrying about Jack that she'd forgotten. "My niece boards at school and comes home for the weekends. You'll like her, I think." Jack had a certain knack with children, despite his fear that his own dark childhood made him predispositioned to become someone like Patrick Wesley.
Jack refused to be mollified by the thought of some teenaged brat running underfoot. He let Gabrielle show him back to his room and waited outside the room while he changed. "I'm sorry about dad," she said again. "He means well, he's just... so overprotective," she admitted. "I really fell apart when I found out about Steve and he remembers that. He just wants someone who'll treat me the way he treated mum." Jack didn't say anything, but he allowed her to lift his head up so she could place it in her lap. "I don't know if it means anything to you, but the reason he was so, well, mean is because he likes you – I think he likes you more after one afternoon than he liked Steve after years and years."
"I don't appreciate having my character questioned by someone I've just met," he said crossly. But she knew how to stroke his hair the way he liked and that drained a lot of the irritability from his body.
"I know. Just... please Jack, try to make the best of things. You're here because you need a break from everything."
"I know." He was beginning to fall asleep. She noticed the diazepam next to his bed and was pretty sure the half-empty jar had been full just a few days ago. She held him until she knew from his breathing he had fallen asleep, then edged her way out from under his head. She turned off the light and closed the door behind her, but not before pocketing both the open bottle and the two he had stashed in his bag, all three from different doctors. Let him find a doctor who would prescribe such a strong sedative to someone Gabrielle was quite happy to expose as a prescription-shopper for his own good.
She found her father in the small living areas that was between the spare room Jack was occupying and the dining/kitchen areas. She was surprised that he'd been waiting for her. "What's that?" he asked, spying the bottles in her hand.
"Diazepam," she said. "It's a sedative, what they used to call Valium," she explained when her father looking quizzically at her. "He relies on it too much to sleep, that and alcohol."
"Do you think –?" Russel started to ask, and Gabrielle stopped him with a shake of her head.
"No. I know it all looks the same to you, but I know Jack. He doesn't have an addictive personality, but he's so lost right now that whenever he closes his eyes, all that comes to mind are all the things he can't do, all the people he couldn't save – not just this last guy that triggered it but everything that could have had a better outcome ever since he was licensed. He feels like he's under all this pressure to be God and he's got no-one who really cares, no-one other than me and his sister, and Rebecca's the sweetest girl, but she's too young to appreciate what he's going through. I just – I want to get him away from all the pressure he's under, surround him by good people..." She shrugged, helpless to express herself articulately.
"You care about him." It was a statement, not a question. But then, Russel had worked that out from their body language the moment they had stepped out of the car. Just how deeply she cared about him – and how deeply her feelings were returned – was yet to be discovered.
"He's the sweetest guy once you get to know him," Gabrielle insisted. "And I figure if you throw a lot of hard work at him, he'll be too tired to think about anything else. Just... give him a chance."
He could see that she cared about him, which was both a good and a bad thing. She needed someone in her life who cared about her... but she also had atrocious judgement when it came to caring about people. How much of her love she had wasted on Steve still boggled Russel's mind. But Gabrielle could be stubborn in her loyalty, she had already proven that with Steve, and he knew better than to raise his objections too soon.
Besides, he figured, he could have a lot of fun toying with Jack, testing what kind of man he was.