Into The Blue
A little oneshot I cooked up. I was on a roll with the writing, my shiny people.
This is going by the principle that Janny Junior was conceived when Jac came back from Japan.
Mo kept telling her to tell Jonny. Part of her wanted to yell at her, tell her it was none of her business. But the other part of her, the part that was more prominent now, was saner, calmer somehow. It kept her composed, stopped her from freaking out completely, from the moment she heard the word endometriosis, to seeing the word pregnant on the test.
This other side of her, the more stable part of her, allowed her to talk to Mo about the pregnancy. It allowed her to trust her just enough to tell her how scared she was, how she didn't want to tell Jonny because it made it all the more real. Turned a cluster of cells into a baby. It allowed her to trust Mo not to tell Jonny, because she knew Mo was pushing her to do that herself. Soon.
And she'd tried, really, once or twice. Like when they both ordered a coffee and the machine broke down after making one. So he gave her his. And she was so close to telling him, so close to changing everything, before convincing herself that after everything they'd been through, it wouldn't really change anything at all.
She did try once after that, but her heart wasn't really in it. I mean, it was Albie's, and she was only there to give Sacha some moral support after finding out about his daughter. I mean, even the word, cancer, was enough to make her shudder, made her think twice about the severity of her own problems. She's worrying about the possibility of a life starting; he's having to worry about the possibility of a life ending. It's barely comparable.
So, she sat with Sacha, whilst he drank. She didn't drink, obviously, just nursed a solitary orange juice while trying to stop Sacha from ordering anything stronger than beer, god help her if he got drunk. And through his semi-coherent ramble, she did stop listening just a tiny bit. It's not like she was missing anything important, of course, and Sacha wasn't really looking for an answer, simply just someone to be there. So she was.
But when her mind did eventually wander away from Sacha's dilemma between whether his tie matched with her nail polish or not, she caught sight of Jonny, tucked away in the corner of the bar, with Mo (naturally) and Oliver (who seemed in a sorrier state than Sacha). And catching sight of him, she noticed that he was looking at her, staring at her back intently until she turned around. As their eyes met, he quickly averted his, unable to simply look her in the eyes.
She very nearly told him then, almost got up from her stool at the bar and marched straight over to him. Because despite everything, despite mentions of the antichrist, despite very public slaps across the face, both physical and emotional, he was still looking at her. He wasn't focused on Mo's conversation about god knows what, or concerned with the amount Oliver was drinking (unlike you with Sacha), but he was watching her across a packed bar.
But then he looked away, immersing himself back in conversation, as if like it never happened. And maybe, on some level, it didn't. Because in all fairness, he was looking at her. So what? And before she could even register the apparent significance of him looking and not looking and dear god the charged atmosphere from just a look – Sacha was clumsily snapping his fingers at the bartender, pointing ambiguously at a drink on the highest shelf, and her attention was diverted. Diverted by persuading her friend not to drink himself into further oblivion.
But that was two weeks ago now, and the need to tell Jonny had slowly become more and more difficult, harder to bring up, easier to put off. They were civil to each other, enough to get through the day without acerbic comments, or an animosity to awkwardly lace the air. But not civil enough to be able to tell him. She trusted him with her life, on a good day. But it was a long time since the days were good, and it was a long time since she'd been able to really talk to him.
So the days were ordinary again, no unexpected fights, just work. Patient after patient, mundane task after mundane task. He handed her patient files, she dealt with said patients, performed the necessary CABG or aortic valve replacement, nothing other than the same monotonous procedures that she could do blindfolded.
However, she had a break for now, a rare window of opportunity to just do nothing. And by do nothing, she meant find her diary, because honestly, she couldn't find it anywhere, and she had it this morning, and it had now apparently vanished. Leaving the comfort of her office (and more significantly, her chair), she searched all around the reception desk, carefully trying not to uproot neat stacks of patient files and path lab forms, but to no avail.
"Have you seen my diary?" she asked an unsuspecting Mo, as she strolled down the corridor, doughnut in one hand, precariously balanced coffee mug in the other.
"No?" Mo replied, through a mouthful of stodge, "Where'd you last have it?"
"Well, if I knew that, then it wouldn't be lost, now, would it?" Jac snapped lightly, flopping into the nearest chair, hoping to achieve a modicum of relaxation from the computer chair, only to be slightly perturbed as it span gently.
"Suppose," Mo shrugged, not taking Jac's snarky comment to heart, "Although, speaking of having things, have you told Jonny that you're having his baby yet?" Mo inquired, leaning over the desk. Jac immediately stiffened, silently giving Mo the answer she needed.
"I'll do it," she sighed, seeing the look upon Mo's face, "Eventually. I just need to find the right moment to do it, okay?" She looked at her in-tray, sighing at the small pile of paperwork that had definitely not been there an hour previously. Picking up the small stack of papers, she realised they were simple things, signing off prescriptions, consent forms for operations, more of the like. Getting up from the chair, she returned to her office, stealing some of Mo's doughnut for good measure.
However, opening the door to her office, she was annoyed to find that her chair was no longer vacant, as she had left it. Instead, as luck would have it (or lack of, rather), Jonny sat in her chair, feet crossed and unsurprisingly, on her desk.
"By all means, we've already surpassed knocking," Jac chided, "Please, do come in. What do you want, anyway?"
"How long was I going to have to wait before you told me?" he snapped coldly, finally looking her in the eyes, for the first time in what felt like months. Jac, confused, opened her mouth to protest, to question him, but her words were caught in her throat when her eyes fell upon something small in his hands. A small square of photo paper. A scan.
"Jonny, I was going to-"
"No," he silenced her instantly, impervious to the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks. This was so not how she wanted this to go. She had this ideal in her mind, her going to Jonny's place one night, after a tough case, him ordering a takeaway, knowing her order off by heart. Lights low, cheesy film, the usual clichés, the optimum conditions to tell him. And he'd actually smile when she told him, thrilled at the prospect of being a father, holding her, kissing her. A happy ever after.
But the reality of telling him was entirely different, she knew. She didn't want to push him, he was angry, hurt – she needed to let him take his time with this. She didn't exactly handle it well when she first found out. Then again, she wasn't expecting her condition to be broadcast to the entire ward, wasn't expecting Mo (of all people) to become her closest confidante throughout this. She made a basic mistake in theatre, one that nearly cost the life of a patient, much to Elliot's outrage. Mo covered for her, saying it was her mistake, softening Elliot somewhat. Jac tried to explain herself, but Mo wouldn't allow it, told her that it could've happened to anyone, accepting only a meek thank you.
That was her coming to terms with her pregnancy, and yeah, it was pretty bad. But this, Jonny's silence, his face unreadable, expressionless, was ten times worse; it only amplified the fear inside her. She took solace in Elliot's chair, gaze fixated on the model heart on his desk, tracing the blood vessels with her fingers.
"You found my diary," she attempted to initiate a conversation with him, seeing her diary open in front of him, several notes and loose sheets of paper out of place.
"I knocked it off the reception desk by accident," he mumbled, trying to tidy up her diary in vain, "And this fell out. And at first, I just stared at it; it didn't even register. But then I thought, this can't belong to her, because she would have told me-"
"I'm sorry," she sighed, resting her head in her hands, "I've only known a couple of weeks, okay, and I've been trying to get my head round it, you know? I didn't think I would ever actually get pregnant, and then this-"
"What are you talking about?" he interjected, distracted momentarily from fiddling with his fingernails, head snapping up.
"I found out that I've got endometriosis," Jac began, shaking her head to warn away any potential tears, "They told me I probably wouldn't have kids, so…" she trailed off, allowing his mind to fill the gaps.
"When did they tell you that?"
"A couple of weeks after I got back from Japan?" she breathed, so softly that it was doubtful whether the words actually left her lips, or whether they remained lodged in her throat. Either way, it only took a moment for the realisation to dawn upon Jonny, his eyes widening as he put the pieces together in his mind.
"When we were still together?"
"Yeah," she whispered, barely audible, brushing away the tears from her eyes. Yeah, it was pretty rare for her to cry, but just the memory of it all brought it all back. Her practically infantile manner as Thompson rattled off the implications of her condition, his explanation of her exploratory practically condescending to her ears, because she knew this already, and he knew it too, but it was a formality that had to be played by the book. Returning to work, trying to pretend that everything was fine, although she was in bloody agony. Ignoring the all-too-obvious glances from Serena when she went for a coffee, because damn it, of course she knew, knew all too well that it wasn't some mystery patient's scan.
Trying to pretend that everything was okay with Jonny, which it was, although she had no option but to mess it up. She couldn't do that to him, allow him to continue wanting a wife he'd have no future with, children he was never going to have, roses over the country house she'd never move into, the whole shebang.
And any hope of that relationship ending amicably died along with her patience, slapping him at the mention of the word antichrist, because, let's face it, there was a line, and he crossed it. The irony that the baby, the antichrist, was due around Christmas. Someone up there must have been having a good day. She got up, then, unable to resist the urge to fidget at the desk. She paced up and down until her legs were burning, both with weariness and with the indicative onset of pins and needles.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured after a long silence, and if she didn't know him better, she'd say his eyes were as red as hers.
"Before Japan, when you found out about, you know, and we broke up, the last thing you said to me was how you wanted a simple life, a family, and bloody roses. And when I got back, all I wanted to do was make things right with us. And then that – the only thing I could think of was your words, over and over, reminding me, like some cruel joke, that wanting you, wanting us, was a fantasy. Because I never really deserved you, and you deserve to be with someone who doesn't treat you like doggy doo, and doesn't shrug you off when you offer your girlfriend a massage, someone who doesn't scoff at you when you offer to make them soup, someone who-"
Jac was so engrossed with her diatribe, so determined to say anything and everything, resolute and unwavering, that she didn't even notice Jonny get up from her desk, still clutching the ultrasound scan in one hand. She didn't notice him in front of her until he was dangerously close, grabbing her flailing wrist with his free hand, barely giving her time to comprehend before he yanked her against himself, and kissed her.
She froze fleetingly, before her hand slowly found its way into his hair, her other hand fisting his scrubs as she tried in vain to suppress a moan. However, to her confusion, Jonny quickly pulled away, his breathing slightly shallower.
"Careful," he murmured, his face close to hers, so much so that she could feel his breath mingling with hers, making her lips tingle with anticipation, "Don't crush it," he continued, pulling away to reveal the image that was still clasped in one hand. She brushed her thumb over the image, a nurturing gesture, his thumb coming to rest on top of hers, stroking it softly.
"It's only a smudge - man up," she scoffed lightly, trying desperately to hide the hitch in her voice, moving out of his reach and back to her desk, picking up her paperwork from Elliot's desk on her way. She sighed contentedly as she reclaimed her chair, her territory, slightly disconcerted at the groan that rose from her, her bod suddenly aching for comfort. Settling further back into her chair, she closed her eyes, taking a moment.
However, her time-out was rudely interrupted when her chair suddenly span around, Jonny holding onto the arm of her chair, turning her to face him as he came and stood at her side. Her eyes snapped open, to find him holding out the scan to her, gazing over it one last time, before placing it on the desk in front of her.
"No, keep it," Jac replied, passing it back to him, baffled by his apparent reluctance to hold on to it, "That's your copy of the smudge. Mine's at home."
"My copy? I get my own copy?" Jonny smiled, taking the scan back from her as she nodded, rolling her eyes at him, "I'm sorry, but this is amazing. That's a baby, that's our baby. Oh my god, we're having a baby," he continued, becoming gradually more garbled, in his excitement.
"Yes, we are, now shut up. I'm trying to work," she retorted, returning to her default sarcasm, trying to concentrate on something other than Jonny's enthusiasm, so she could have an afternoon's peace, for the first time in what felt like eons.
"Hey, you knew about this for two weeks, okay, two weeks. Can I just have two minutes to get my head around this?" he cried, pointing a finger at her accusingly.
"Yes, you can, just not in my office," she smiled mockingly, raising one eyebrow at him as he started to walk around the room, unable to stay still. However, he very quickly began to irritate Jac, who was on the verge of losing her tether with him, "God, have you got worms or something?"
"No, I just..." he tailed off, his mind whirring silently, much to Jac's annoyance, "Is it a boy or a girl?"
"I don't know," Jac shrugged, "I didn't want to find out by myself. I guess I'll find out at my next scan," she concluded, feigning nonchalance, putting her feet up on the desk for effect.
"What? How can you mind not knowing-"
Jonny's outburst was cut short by Jac's snort of laughter, her obvious thrill that she had managed to wind him up. He huffed at her, folding his arms, clearly annoyed. She raised her eyebrows at him, as if to say, what did you expect, before grinning once again, remembering the look on his face.
"Oh, very funny," he said scornfully, before perking up again slightly, "Seriously, though, boy or girl?"
"I wasn't actually joking; I said I didn't want to know. Not before I'd told you, anyhow. Look, I've got my 20 week scan in two months – you can wait until then, right?"
"What, you want me to come? I mean, I'd love to, of course, but I don't want to intrude or anything if you'd rather-"
"Listen, idiot, you're going to be a dad. Hence, you're not intruding. Unless you get all sentimental and start spouting nauseating crap about mummies and daddies and tiny toes, you're more than welcome. Saves the looks I'd get for going by myself," she shrugged, swivelling her chair back towards her desk, her eyes lighting up as she opened her drawer, finding the snack she'd been saving for her break: a slab of chocolate and a small tin of anchovies. Mo judged her, but so what? It was just salty and sweet together. No different than salted caramel, which was a different kind of heaven, she'd discovered. God, that baby was going to ruin her figure.
"Hey, hey," he tapped her gleefully, after a moment's silence, "Can I tell Mo, or are you keeping it quiet? Because there's also my sister, and oh gosh, my nan's going to be a great-grandmother-"
"Mo already knows," Jac said coolly, ignoring Jonny's look of disgust as she made her way through her snack, "Stop looking at me like I'm crazy. You eat sweet and salted popcorn all the bloody time," she chided.
"I do not eat it all the - wait, Mo knew? That girl knows and she didn't tell me?" he squeaks, his voice becoming high-pitched.
"Jonny, come here," Jac smiled, rolling her eyes, pulling him down to her level, "I love you, idiot."
"I love you too," Jonny replied, although he was distracted slightly, "Look, I will be right back, yeah? I just need to kill Mo," he babbled, rushing out of the room and slamming the door behind him.
Jac simply smiled to herself, snuggling back into the comfort of her chair, picking up her fork once more. Now that she'd inadvertently sent Jonny on a witch-hunt to find Mo, she could actually enjoy her snack, whilst it was still quiet.
Peace at last.
I wrote most of this when the Jac Junior spoilers were released a while back, but kinda forgot about it. Hence the mention of the very recent "chocolate and anchovies" craving.
Thanks to everyone who is still reviewing One and the Same - please check it out if you haven't already - I will love you forever!
Em xx
PS/ Anyone for a review?