A/N: One-shot/drabble for beautywithin22 who requested a Michael/Jackie story set after 'Gingerbread.' It's been a while since I wrote for Taggart (and I have missed it!) so I hope I have done your request justice! :) There is some tie-in with my earlier stories (particularly the 'Jim Wentworth' storyline), but you don't need to read them to understand. If you have, however, you might recognise 'the scene' :P Title comes from the song of the same name, I thought it fit :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Another Girl
...
She's sweeter than all the girls and I've met quite a few
Nobody in all the world can do what she can do
And so I'm telling you this time you'd better stop
For I have got another girl
Another girl who will love me till the end
Through thick and thin she will always be my friend
- 'Another Girl,' The Beatles
...
It took Michael two weeks to feel comfortable at work again.
Two months to forgive himself for being duped by Gemma.
Four months to forget her.
And six months to realise that he was in love with Jackie Reid.
In hindsight this last realisation shouldn't have come as the shock that it initially had been. He'd always been attracted to Jackie and admired her for her courage, her quick wit and her big heart.
But during the four months it took him to forget about the mess with Gemma she had been his anchor.
She would sit for hours listening to him complain about Gemma's fickleness and his own stupidity without comment or judgement.
Not to mention how she acted as a shield between him and the rest of their colleagues; several of whom had been less than sympathetic to his predicament and Jackie had put more than one of them in their place for speaking out of turn.
Michael was even reasonably certain she'd punched someone to make her point, although they never spoke about it.
In short, she was a good friend – his best friend – and much better than he deserved.
It had been the thought of not deserving her that had first brought home to him her many virtues, but it was the Christmas party that had truly opened his eyes.
To this day he couldn't remember what he'd said, but it had made her laugh. So hard that he'd slipped an arm around her waist to steady her and she'd ended up burying her face in his shoulder.
Then she'd looked up at him; her eyes sparkling with amusement as her laughter gradually subsided.
He'd known then that he was a lost man: he was in love with her.
It took Michael three weeks to work up the nerve to ask her on a date.
Four months to know that he wanted to marry her.
And eight months after that for her to be his.