13 disasters + 1 perfect moment = All's right with the world 1/2

Disclaimer:- Don't own them just borrowing!

Episode:- None

Pairing:- Nicola/Ollie

Rating:- M

Achieve:- http(:/) . /group/rebeccafrontlewisffarchive/

Summary:-

Author's Note:- Written for Gee's "Friday 13th" Challenge to write a fic involving Friday 13th and one character's reactions/feelings about it. Rated for the usual stuff enjoy and reviews would be lovely as always they make my day!

I hate Friday 13th. I just thought I'd put that out there. I don't imagine it will surprise any of you but before we go any further I want to make it clear that on top of my usual concerns and worries on an average day or even an average Friday putting the number 13 in front of the day is enough to freak me out totally.

Nothing good ever happens on Friday 13th and so far I've been out of bed less than an hour and nothing has happened to persuade me today is going to be any different. My alarm went off at 6am and I reached for it to turn it off knocking a full glass of water over myself, my pillow and the duvet as I did. That then woke James who has spent the time since yelling in an angry whisper every time I come near so he can insult my competence and intelligence at length without waking the children. Added to that the fact that the boiler has spontaneously decided to only heat the water to one degree about freezing meaning I have had to have what was essentially a cold shower and that I am now standing at the living room window waiting for Elvis who is already 15 minutes late and it all points to the clear fact that I should have just found a quiet cupboard to crawl into for the day.

"Sorry Minister I'm not sure what happened the engine just cut out about two miles away and I had to wait for the driver's pool to send me a tow truck and a new vehicle." See! It's 07:10 am and that the third disastrous thing already! God I wonder if anyone would actually notice if I stayed home today rocking back and forward under my soaking wet duvet?

"It's fine just get me in ASAP because if I'm late for my morning bollocking from Malcolm he'll spend even longer on it and I'm supposed to be at Radio 5 for their morning political autopsy at 9." Oh yeah I forgot to mention that didn't I? Two hours of potential cock-ups on live radio like that's going to go well today!

"Nicola wait don't go up yet!" What the hell? We actually made it here in record time meaning I'm not yet late for Malcolm and Glen wants me to stop? I swear he forgets that it takes me five minutes to climb the bloody stairs!

"Walk and talk Glen, Malcolm will be here any minute and I like to get a lemon zinger and half a bottle of rescue remedy into me before he starts."

"He's not coming." What? Oh please, please, please tell me I heard that right! Please let one thing have gone right for me today! Let him be ill, nothing life threatening just a case of laryngitis or something that means he'll have lost his voice would do!

"Why? Don't get me wrong I'm not complaining but why?"

"He wants you to go to him." Fuck! So much for hope. He never wants me to go to him unless the shit has really hit the fan now I'm frantically running through the last 24 hours in my head trying to work out what I've done and….oh shit no! He's now holding up the front page of today's Daily Mail and the headline has made my blood run cold.

"What the fuck Glen? When did that happen and why wasn't I informed?" The draft copy of our new citizenship test has been leaked and now three of the stupidest questions on it are staring out of the front page of the Mail at me in bold letters. Disaster number four, oh god if I make it out of this fucking day alive it'll be a damn miracle!

"We don't know, Ollie is on his way down he'll contact Wilson at the mail while you drive over. Elvis is still outside."

"Ollie you better have a fucking good explanation for this and the name of the twat that leaked it by the time we get to the office because I'm not taking the fall for someone who can't keep their fucking mouth shut! I mean it, find the bastard so we have something to tell Malcolm then bring me his balls on a fucking plate!" Yes I know it might sound like I'm over reacting but trust me it's a cock up of the highest fucking magnitude. We know the questions are fucking shit which is why we're still drafting it. Now some tosser has decided to make my fucking day even worse and Ollie and I are almost back in the car on our way to….argh! Bollocks!

"Nicola? Nicola are you ok?" 5! 5 disasters I'm always saying the gap between the paving stones outside the office is too big and now I've proved it by getting my fucking heel stuck in one of those gaps breaking it off and I'm pretty sure breaking my ankle at the same time! I'm on the ground and Ollie is frantically throwing things into the back seat of the car so he can help me up. Honestly I feel like I could burst into tears at any second.

"Get Glen tell him I need one of the spare pairs of black heeled shoes from the cupboard in my office and I need them five minutes ago!" I've batted away his attempts to help and am trying to make my way onto the back seat of the car. This is bad my ankle is already swelling. Shit, shit, shit! I so don't need this!

"Nicola I think we should take you to get that checked out it could be broken or anything!" No shit Sherlock! He knows as well as I do that we cannot just detour to the local A&E department!

"Just get in the car it's almost 8 and we've got to be at the 5Live studios for 9 you're cutting into Malcolm's tearing a fucking strip off me time."

"What the fuck happened to you?" I wish I could say there was actual concern in that question but right now Malcolm Tucker is looking at me like he would think nothing of having me killed and buried in a shallow grave."

"I broke my heel, look Ollie is trying to track down the source of the leak so can we save the fucking screaming till later Bacon is going to do it for you in half an hour on live radio anyway."

"Richard Bacon is a pansy assed fuckin tosser even you can deal with him and if you don't I'll make sure you fuckin regret it. What the fuck is with your department that you can't keep a single thing under wraps for more than 30 seconds at a time? I mean fuck sake Nicola go do your fucking interview, put Bacon back in his box then get your ass back here with an explanation because if you don't know who it is I want someone's head on a plate and it might as well be yours!" He hasn't even given me a chance to sit down and I'm being fucking dismissed. I told you this day was a fucking nightmare didn't I? Friday the fucking 13th is two hours old and already I've pissed off my husband, had a cold shower and a broken down car, realised my department had more leaks than fucking Wales and almost, actually probably, broken my ankle what the hell is going to happen next.