Nice

The old saying is "time flies when you're having fun". Hurrying home from work Joan Thursday thought that it certainly applied to her now. The couple of months which had passed since the night when she and Morse had wound up in bed together seemed to have flown by. Of course, that was a trick of the mind, she knew that time neither sped up nor slowed down. Certainly, there had been a lot of changes in her life during that time, a new job, having to maintain her own place, and trying to be an intermediary between her mom and dad. Not to mention a host of lesser things.

But over it all was the relationship between her and Morse, funny how she now though of them as a couple, not individuals on their own separate courses. Funny how that one night had changed things. She had always suspected that when/if she slept with him things would change, she just hadn't known how. She was somewhat surprised that they probably didn't see each other any more now than before. Separate flats and their work saw to that, but when they did get together it was ….. well, nice, comfortable. At least most of the time anyway.

They weren't living together, and Jim Strange and Morse were renting a flat together. That way both guys could save a little money. Surprisingly having them share a flat worked well for her as well as for them. Jim could cook reasonably well, and she could trust him to make sure that Morse ate, something that he would "forget" to do all too often. Jim's excuse for nagging being that he didn't want to face her wrath if Morse lost any more weight. And he was surprisingly good company to have around. Most weekends she would spend her time at their place just hanging out with them. Of course, out of respect for Jim, when they really wanted to be alone they would go to her place. And maybe once a week Morse would stop by and have dinner with her. If his work schedule permitted Jim occasionally joined them.

Of course, that wasn't to say that everything was perfect between she and Morse. It never had been and likely never would be that. There were still lots of missed communications between them, but it was something they were working on. He could still be morose at times, and lordy could he get lost in his own head. At times she and the rest of the world may as well not have existed for the interest he had in them. However, he didn't seem to be drinking as much as he had in the past, knock on wood. Although she suspected that the more time they spent apart the more he did drink.

Another point of disagreement were their differing political views. Morse as could be expected of a police officer was conservative in that regard. She on the other hand tended to be a bit more liberal. Embracing lots of unpopular activist positions. On several occasions she had participated in marches which had required the police to intervein. Once it was only a quite word from someone, nobody would admit who, that had prevented her being taken to jail. It was a subject that they both tried to steer clear of because it usually caused an argument.

She knew he didn't like being a uniformed officer again. Whether he would admit it or not he looked upon his new job as a demotion. She suspected that, although he didn't mention it he was trying to, or would soon try to get back into the detective squad. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Really his safety was all she cared about, he had never really learned to take care of himself. To make matters worse now he was the new guy on the block, so to speak. And in the time-honored tradition of virtually all institutions the new guy gets all the crummy jobs. And it worried her that now he wouldn't have Dad to take care of him

Speaking of Dad, to her surprise he was still working. She had been sure that he would retire when they closed Cowley Station. He himself had said that he was too old to start over at a new station. Perhaps that was the root of the problem that had erupted, seemingly overnight, between Mom and Dad. She had never really understood what had made Mom just suddenly walk out on Dad. It certainly didn't seem like her, not after all these years, twenty-seven she thought. Perhaps it had something to do with Dad indefinitely postponing his retirement. Whenever she asked either one of them about it they either changed the subject or just dummied up. Whatever it was Mom seemed really bitter about her father continuing to work.

When Morse stopped by for his weekly dinner he always helped her with the dishes before they spent some time together. This generally gave them some time to talk about current events, or how their lives were going That generally didn't last too long before ending up in a little cuddling. But tonight, he had seemed a little distant, something was obviously bothering him. Finally, she was able to get him to admit that, not surprisingly, it was something from work. He had been called into the Superintendent's office to discuss a special matter. This in and of itself wasn't unusual lots of cases that the superintendent needed to be informed about. What made this time unusual was that there were two officers from Internal Affairs waiting to talk to him. They wanted to ask him questions about his time at Cowley. In particularly cases that he and her dad had worked on together. Whether there had ever been seizures of large amounts of cash, or perhaps drugs. What had been Inspector Thursday's procedure for accounting for any such material.

Joan knew that Morse was concerned about the implication that perhaps there had been something untoward by people he knew and trusted. He had seen enough of the powers that be and likely wouldn't have been surprised by any of their machinations. But to even hint that it reached down to his station level was unsettling. Particularly even the possibility of Dad's involvement was beyond the pale.

As troubled as he was she thought it wasn't a good time to mention that she had a Doctor's appointment the following day. Recently she had been feeling a little tired. Probably they would run a few simple tests is all, tell her to watch her diet, get more sleep. Couldn't be anything serious, maybe it was one of those viruses you heard about. But certainly nothing to worry about but you couldn't be too careful. But in the back of her mind she remembered thinking that same thing when she was at Leamington the year before.

Everything considered, everything in her life was going pretty well, funny how much things can change in a few months.

ADDENDUM:

It was midafternoon when Joan trudged up the steps to her flat. The spring that had been in her step earlier in the day strangely missing. Pausing before her front door it appeared that the simple act of fumbling for, then finding her keys required more energy than she was able to, or willing to muster. Finally opening the door, she went inside, softly closing the door, before almost staggering toward her favorite chair. There she collapsed into its comforting confines, clutching her purse to her as if it were her life preserver.

Taking a deep breath to collect herself, she put the purse on the table, and stood up, trying to draw herself fully erect. She went into the kitchen, retrieved a water glass, and returned to the living room. There in a cupboard she found the bottle of scotch that Morse left for his use when he visited. Removing the cap, she poured herself a generous measure, then doubled it. She took a sip, grimaced, then put the bottle aside, before returning to the chair to sat down.

How could she have been such a ninny? A grown woman, breezing into the doctor's office without any thought of her problem. What made it even more laughable was what she had been through with Ray and Leamington. She was a fool, an absolute fool. Did she think that because Morse acted like a gentleman the same thing couldn't happen with him?

But that wasn't what had her sitting her in the afternoon drinking his scotch and on the verge of bawling her eyes out was it? Was it because she might have been pregnant with his baby? Or was it because she wasn't?

Her glass was magically empty, and she really ought to get up and start dinner. Morse and Jim Strange were going to stop by after work, and she didn't want to be too late with the meal. Although to be fair the guys were pretty understanding about things like that. Still on her way back to the kitchen she poured herself another small measure of scotch. The combination of the alcohol and something to focus on was doing wonders for her emotions. One thing for sure, she thought to herself, she shouldn't be short of topics of conversation tonight.