Disclaimer: Not mine. I only have a vivid imagination, my adoration for Gerry and his ties and the greatest of respect for Sandra.
A/n: I'm aware that I change tense between the first scene and the rest. I chose to do so in order to get a different feeling of action into it. I'm not sure how well it worked, please tell me what you think.
And I know that Sandra is slightly OOC here. Sorry. But as it is Gerry's story, I hope you won't mind.
Day one
The doorbell rings. He puts down the fork by the side of the plate and gets up to answer it. He has no idea who it could be. He isn't expecting anyone.
On his door step stands a young woman in a green coat. She forcefully pushes past him as soon as he opens the door, taking a few steps inside the hall. She turns arund and looks at him, a challenge in her eyes.
He leaves the door open. He's never seen the woman before and is surprised by her sudden intrusion into his home. "What's this about?" he asks, disbelief and anger present in his voice.
The woman smiles at him. But the smile doesn't reach her brown eyes. She looks hostile. Suddenly, she smacks herself right in the eye.
He is stunned by her behaviour. He lets the door go and takes a step towards her, trying to prevent the young woman from hitting herself again.
She bites her lip so hard it's bleeding and the skin around her right eye is already turning bright red.
When he gets close enough, she reaches out a well manicured hand and scratches him harshly in the face. He jumps back at the pain. The woman follows him, trying to punch him.
He gets to the door. "Out." he barks and tries to open it.
The woman stands in front of the door so that he can't get it open. She starts to yell as loud as she can. "No! Help! Help!"
He just stands and looks at her, stunned. He doesn't understand a thing of what she's doing. She keeps on yelling.
She smashes the little window in his door, then opens the door and flees out. She runs down the street, still screaming her lungs out.
The door smashes shut. He just stands looking at it, not able to utter a word. What the hell was that all about? The more he thinks about it, the less he likes it. What the woman did was calmly planned. She kept staring intently at him the whole time, she knew what she was doing. She was no raving lunatic. She had it in for him.
He shivers and turns around to get the car key. He storms out of his flat, not caring about the food that's left on the counter in his kitchen or the neighbours that are watching him from their windows.
xx
Twelve minutes later, another door rang in another part of London. This time, however, the person who answered the door recognized the person behind it. She'd seen him at the office just a few hours earlier.
The first thing Sandra saw when she opened the door was the blood trickling down Gerry's cheek and the confused look in his eyes. For the first time during the four years they had worked together, Sandra looked into the eyes of a scared Gerry. She stepped to the side without a word, letting him enter her home.
He walked right into her living room and leaned against the back of an arm chair. She followed him silently and sat down on the sofa. When he'd calmed down a little he looked up at her. He still didn't utter a word. He just stood there wringing his hands together.
"What happened?" she asked steadily.
He sighed deeply. "I dunno."
She kept on looking at him, her bright blue eyes questioning his.
"I was attacked. I guess." he said after a little while.
"You guess?" she asked hesitantly. Please let this not be another of his women affairs gone wrong, she thought to herself.
"She hit herself more than me. That's what is so bloody bizarre!" he let out a sound of utter confusion.
Sandra was about to comment on the fact that his attacker had been a female, asking him some ironic question about his romantic life that would surely have had him storming out the door. But the small sound he made broke her heart and she rememebered the look of fear in his eyes. Something was seriously wrong. "Sit down and take it from the beginning." she said softly.
He complied and told her what little he knew. A strange woman barged into his flat, assaulted first herself and then him, yelled for help and fled down the road.
"Oh God, Gerry." She said, looking down at her hands in order to think. Watching her confused friend didn't seem conductive to thinking straight. "You do have to admit that is does sound incredible."
He stared at her silently for a minute, shocked. He had always thought that whatever happened, at least she would believe him. Apparently not. He didn't know what to say. He got up from the sofa and left without a word.
He was almost through the door to the hall when she got hold of his wrist. He tried to jerk away but wasn't able to. Her hold on him was too strong.
"I believe you, Gerry." she forced him to look back at her and stared intently into his eyes. Her clear blue stare didn't waver. "I do." She paused again. "All I'm saying is, there's a few people out there who might not. We'll have a hell of a time proving anything. If it comes to that."
He leaned toward the frame of the open door. He sighed as he looked down into the carpet. She was right. He'd not made himself popular over the years and his reputation did leave something to desire. But as long as he knew that Sandra was on his side, he'd be able to fight just about anything.
It was almost as if she could read his mind. "I'm on your side, Gerry." she said and squeezed his shoulder gently. She leaned up a bit to look at the ugly scratch just under his left eye. It needed seeing to.
He followed her back to the sofa and sat down once again as she left to get the first aid kit. She washed the deep scratch with alcohol. It hurt and he winced.
"Sorry." she said when she noticed the shiver going through his body. She gave his chin a soft brush before her hand fell back into her lap. "You should stay."
He looked back at her gratefully. "Thanks." he whispered.
She gave him a slight smile and walked into the kitchen. They could both do with a cup of tea.
When she came back into the living room two minutes later, two steaming cups in her hand, he was asleep on the sofa. She put one of the cups back in the kitchen. Then she walked over to the lying form on her settee and draped a throw over him. She turned off one of the two table lamps and settled into an arm chair. She didn't turn on the telly for fear of waking him. Instead she picked up a book she left on the table last week. Some sleezy chick lit with a thin plot that she didn't care an iota for. But distractive, all the same. And right now, she needed something to distract her.
xx
Sandra woke up at two o'clock in the morning. Her neck hurt from sleeping in the chair. She looked over at Gerry. He was tossing and turning. He sounded like a sleeping puppy, snoring lightly. She smiled to herself at the mental image. Sometimes Gerry was indeed very much like a tiny golden retriever pup.
But she knew that he would have a bad back in the morning if she'd let him sleep on the couch all night. She should know, she'd done it herself more times than she cared to remember.
She picked up the book that had fallen into her lap and put it back on the table. Then she walked over and sat down on the edge of the sofa. "Gerry." she said calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.
He jerked awake. At first he was surprised to see Sandra sitting so close beside him, disoriented by dreams of being haunted through dark and narrow lanes. Then he remembered. He smiled uncertainly up at her. "Do you want me to leave?"
She squeezed his arm where her hand was resting on it. "Of course not. I just don't want you to sleep on the sofa all night, it's uncomfortable."
He twisted around a bit, sitting up and leaning towards the armrest. He felt his back and neck complain. He rubbed his neck, trying to work away the tension. "I notice." He grimaced.
She smiled. "Come on." She stood up and started walking towards her bedroom door.
He started to follow her but stopped dead in his tracks by the door. She'd got a guest room, hadn't she? He gave her a questioning glance.
She noticed his predicament and shrugged. "If you want to make up the guest bed in the middle of the night, then go ahead. Or you could just sleep here." She sat down on her king size bed and patted the space beside her.
He admitted that the first choice did not appeal to him. The second one did. Much so. It was probably not wise and they would surely both regret it. But he couldn't not take her up on the offer. He moved into the room and walked around the bed, nervously peering out through the curtains at the dark street below as he didn't know what else to focus on.
Sandra took her track suit bottoms and jumper off and lay down under the duvet, only wearing a sleeveless top and knickers. She looked at Gerry, who was still studying the street.
He heard her calling his name and turned around. Sandra was lying in bed watching him silently. He never thought he'd see the day that happened. He appreciated how natural it seemed. Like it was meant to be.
He gave her a quick smile before sitting down on the bed and starting to undress. Then he too crawled under the warm sheets. It felt strange. He didn't know what way to turn. So he lay stiffly on his back, hands at his sides.
Sandra solved it by sleepily drawing closer and throwing an arm over his chest. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and drew in a deep breath through her nose. "Night, Gerry."
He chuckled lightly and put his arm around her shoulder. His fingers played with her soft hair. He was safe here. "Night."
