Muse bit me while I had breakfast and stared (only half awake I might add) at my key ring pendant, on which the word 'whatever' is printed. That was 5 minutes before I had to leave for work...

Enjoy!

Whatever:

Sitting by Robbie Lewis' bedside in a quiet hospital room in J&R James thinks about the array of meanings to the word whatever.

There is the resigned whatever. That of a weary man agreeing to something he's not entirely comfortable with or finds bothersome to do. It could be a 'Yes, yes, whatever. I'll do it this once.' kind of answer.

Then there is the testy whatever; the one that his governor most likely has heard from his children at some point. It would be delivered in an angry or disinterested tone; the teenager's body would radiate rebelliousness and maybe false bravado. It would be a: 'Do whatever you want, I don't care!'

And then there is a use of whatever, that James is quite familiar with. Suspects who are hiding something do seem to favour it. Often false indignation or surprise is accompanying such a statement. Hathaway and Lewis must have heard it a thousand times already – when questioning witnesses, when conducting Interviews – the universal: 'I don't know whatever you mean by that!'

Even Lewis has his own preferred use of the word. It emerges every time his sergeant takes spewing random, detailed and most importantly accurate trivia too far. Then it would come, the 'Oh, whatever.' and Lewis would scowl in mock irritation.

One could ask, why is he even thinking about such a trivial matter? Well first, he is James Hathaway and sometimes the Cambridge graduate mulls over things that others find unimportant or haven't thought to think about at all.

And second, it is the only thing he can do right now. Because not occupying his mind with this would mean remembering. It would mean worrying endlessly, even worse; it would mean shattering into a million pieces because at this very moment Sergeant Hathaway is holding his governor's hand waiting for him to wake up after he took a bullet for him mere hours before!

And that takes James to the meaning of whatever that is most difficult to stomach. He has learned today – has known for a long time, if he is honest with himself – that Inspector Lewis would always protect him.

To safe him he would do whatever it takes!

A lump forms in James' throat as his gaze sweeps over the prone figure on the bed. How pale he is. How fragile this stocky Newcastle lad looks all of a sudden! When worry, exhaustion and weariness of waiting finally overwhelm him, Hathaway puts his forehead down lightly on his hands –hands that are holding Lewis' left one between them.

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In retrospect Hathaway finds that he must have fallen asleep while still poised over his partner's hand. When the fingers that he keeps enclosed in his own suddenly begin to move his first instinct is to grab them tighter. But in the end he doesn't. Those fingers, they stray from his hands to the side and then are lifted until they rest on his neck – Hathaway's neck. They seem to be content there – splayed across his skin, fingertips barely brushing the short cropped blond hair.

And that is what keeps him still for a few precious moments: The knowledge that Robbie is awake now! That he has seen his sergeant slumped there, fallen asleep by his bedside, and the first thing he does is rest his fingers there in a gesture of comfort, of assurance.

Slowly now he lifts his head. Feels those warm fingers slide off his skin and feels the loss of contact oh so keenly!

But he's rewarded: Upon actually gazing at Lewis' face he sees the familiar features; tired, exhausted most likely, but content and just a bit exasperated. James knows what the Inspector is going to say even before he opens his mouth.

"Jim, you soft lad. Shouldn't have waited here all that time watching an old bugger sleep. Could have gotten a crick in ye neck."

His voice is rough from disuse but underlying that gruff comment is deep caring and genuine appreciation for what James has done.

"Sir." There's a mountain of meaning to that single, softly whispered word. It is mirrored in his keen gaze and in his relieved smile. Seeing him finally awake, knowing that everything will be alright the ever controlled young man has to rest his head back on the bed for a moment to get a grip on his emotions.

The hand returns to his head, this time gently carding through his hair.

"I'm there, ye know." James gives a soft snort and does not know if he is laughing or maybe crying.

"I should know, sir. I did not see anything but you for the last 5 hours. The thing is I didn't know if you would be there ever again."

It's not like James to be so clumsy with words but Robbie understands anyway. James has been sitting at his side for hours on end, not knowing if or when his partner would wake up again. No matter how often the doctors tell you that a loved one is likely to make a full recovery the worry still remains.

"Thank you, Sir." It pulls Robbie out of his thoughts and makes him take a good look at his sergeant. He looks as done in as Lewis feels.

"Nothing to thank me for. Would do it again. Although I could do without the pain and sick leave they'll force upon me. You okay, lad?" Hathaway grins at that and regains some of his ever present composure.

"You are talking to me, Sir. How could I not be?"

"Should I consider that the next time I give you the silent treatment? Could be detrimental to your health, after all, me not talking to you."

"Of course, Sir. Oh, and maybe you could weave it into my performance review next time. Something along the lines of 'exhibits lively response and shows improvement of health when being spoken to for longer amounts of time'."

"If there is anybody who could sell that one to Innocent, it would be you, lad."

"I think I'll take that as a compliment, so thank you, Sir. Anyway, right now you should consider resting again."

"Cannot say no to that." Robbie agrees cracking a huge yawn. James remains at his partner's bed side until he falls asleep once again.

There's one thing he knows now – and maybe that's the final meaning of whatever:

He will look out for this man. He will forever cherish the deep friendship he has acquired with one Robbie Lewis over the years. James will stand by this man whatever happens!

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Well, this is it. I was quite happy that I could satisfy that nagging little beast called muse, so what do you think? Good? Bad? Anything in between?