Nikki
Jack and I in particular, have had one hell of a year – as Clarissa has pointed out on more than one occasion.
The two of us were close before we went to Mexico, but what happened there created a huge void between us. You'd think something like that would have brought us closer, but at the time, it did the opposite. In the months I had off work to recuperate afterwards, Jack refused to see me, speak to me on the phone – or even communicate by text.
After I got back to work, I understood that he'd behaved that way out of a feeling of guilt and once I'd reassured him that he was in no way to blame for my near-death experience abroad, I was confident that we were back on track. Then I got injured. Jack undoubtedly blamed himself for that to, because he was angry and I was trying to stop him from killing the bloke -but as a result I was near enough for Brian Hawke to throw a punch at me. After that, it seemed like the bond we once had was completely severed – forever.
It didn't help that I'd secretly been having therapy for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and my general view of the world – and everything in it was significantly warped. Jack suffered just as much as I did after Mexico but no one considered that he went through the same as me because he was on the other side of it – he wasn't trapped in a box. I doubt if he's even considered that he went through it too. The two of us have always confided in each other, but when the bond between us was severed, Jack wouldn't talk to me any more – and I couldn't talk to him.
Despite our estrangement, when Jack learnt I was suffering from PTSD, he was right back by my side and since then, we've helped each other. Now we're closer then we've ever been.
I want to be more than best friends – and I know he does to, but we're both afraid it'll go wrong. We're both too scared to make the first move. Maybe things will develop on their own.
It's Christmas now – finally! I thought this year would never end!
It's Christmas Eve and I'm on call as usual. They like us all to be on call at Christmas, so Thomas is on call to – though Jack and Clarissa probably won't get asked to come in until after us – that's up to Thomas and he'll probably leave it for half an hour or so.
It's the season to be merry – but it also seems to be one of the worst for crime. The bodies pile up at Christmas. It's kind of sad, but I don't mind working over Christmas – it's not like I have family, so I'm usually alone anyway.
But not this year.
Like I said, Jack and I are closer than ever. He's asked me to spend Christmas with him and his Dad. Tomorrow, the plan is to have Christmas lunch at the pub with the rest of his family – unless we get called out. Jack's brother, Ryan, will not be there. He's still incarcerated at her majesty's pleasure.
It took a little bit of persuasion from Jack to get me to agree to join him for Christmas at his – well technically his father's place. It's not that I don't want to – it's what I've always wanted. I just don't want his family to think I'm imposing on them – Christmas should be a family occasion after all. However, when I tried to point this out, the response Jack gave was:
"You're my best friend – and I want you there."
He said it very firmly and well, I couldn't argue with that, could I?
I like Jack's Dad – he's a decent man and I especially like how he insists that Ryan's crimes were his own choice and therefore down to him – and him alone. Jack needs to hear that. He needs to know that his Dad doesn't blame him.
The three of us have a lovely evening watching the Muppet's Christmas Carol with a takeaway – Jack's Dad prefers Chinese, so that's what we go for. We follow it up with The Wizard of Oz and a glass of wine. I love The Wizard of Oz, but it makes me cry every time – and sometimes watching it is bitter-sweet. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to watch it. It's just that sometimes it brings back memories of my idealistic childhood Christmases in Africa before my Mum died – and before my Dad succumbed to a life of crime. Back then, I had no idea how lucky I was. I feel the tears brewing. Jack sighs and hands me a tissue.
At the end of the film, Jack's Dad retires to bed – first giving his son a hug, and then me a polite peck on the cheek.
"I'll sleep out here – you can have my bed." Jack offers after his Dad has gone.
It's an unusual suggestion. Jack and I often stay over with each other and we've always shared. For one thing – it saves having to make up another bed - and saves on the washing. It's never caused a problem before, but sometimes, the older generation don't agree with non-marital co-habitation because it goes against what they believe in and it's not what they're used to. I decide that Jack must be respecting his Dad's wishes. I must also comply.
"It's ok." I smile, leaning up to give him a gentle peck on the cheek. "I understand."
"You...understand?" He repeats slowly. "You understand what?"
"You have to respect your Dad's wishes." I explain. "It's important." He has a closer relationship to his father than I ever had with mine – at least in the latter years, and he should cherish that. I watch Jack as the meaning of my answer dawns on him.
"It's not my Dad." He tells me. "He doesn't mind."
Ok – so it would appear Jack is trying his hand at chivalry – for reasons best known to himself!
"Ah." I answer again softly. "So you're being chivalrous?"
"It's only a single bed." He mutters by way of explanation.
"The bed at your flat is only a single bed and it's never bothered you before!" I point out. "No pressure though." I add in a whisper, leaning up to give him a second peck before I depart. "You know where I am if you change your mind!" My hand trails behind me as I leave, catching his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Goodnight sweetie."
"Goodnight." I hear hear him murmur as I go into his room.
I glance back and see him still stood in that same spot, staring after me with that longing gaze he always has. I smile at him before pushing the door to and wonder how long it will take him to follow.
Five minutes after I switch the light off, I hear his light footsteps creeping into the room.
"Better?" He asks, climbing over me. For some reason, he always likes to be next to the wall. He slips under the duvet and drapes his arm loosely over me.
"Mm-hm." I agree. "I didn't think it would take you very long!"
"No." He mutters – rather vaguely, suggesting that whatever has been bothering him all evening is still very much on his mind.
"You ok?" I ask in concern.
"Huh?"
He's definitely distracted. "You've seemed a little distracted all evening, sweetie." I remark, putting my thoughts into words – in the hope he will do the same. "That's all."
"Oh." He answers. "Yeah." He pauses and I wait. I've done my bit – now it's up to him. If he wants to tell me, he will.
"Dad wants me to go and see Ryan with him." He says eventually.
"That's great!" I exclaim enthusiastically. "Isn't it?"
I can tell he's not convinced – and he seems unusually nervous. "I...I...I just don't think he'll want to see me." He mutters.
Jack always takes the blame on his shoulders, but I know that there is more to it this time. This is Ryan's second time in prison and though he was convicted of a different crime this time round, his previous record was taken into account, and had a bearing on his current sentence.
Jack's guilt for his older brother's predicament does not have it's roots in Ryan's current prison sentence. It comes from the circumstances of his first imprisonment – which Jack was partially responsible for. Ryan started the fight back then – but it was Jack who broke the man's jaw. I know he didn't mean to – he doesn't know his own strength sometimes. He got away with it because the man in question didn't see him coming – and Ryan chose to protect his little brother by going down for it. He even persuaded Jack to testify against him in court, so that his reputation and career remained intact.
In Jack's heart, he believes that the guilty should be punished – and he knows that he was guilty of the crime his brother was sent down for.
We've all got guilty secrets – and Jack's eats away at him.
"Like your Dad said, this crime was Ryan's own fault – and he nearly got you killed in the process." I add trying with great difficulty, to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I'm not sure I could have forgiven Ryan if Jack hadn't survived.
"But-" Jack begins.
I cut him off before he gets any further – perhaps rather sharply, because he tenses up. "No!...no." I repeat, softening my tone. "Ryan chose to protect you last time. It was his choice – just like it was his choice this time, to commit a crime that led to people getting killed, including Hannah and nearly his own brother." I tell him quietly. "It was not your fault."
"Ok." He agrees and we lie in silence for a bit.
After a while, his breathing changes slightly and I know that he's asleep. I decide that I had better try to sleep to – in case I get a call during the night.
My phone rings and wakes me up in the early hours. I blink first – wondering where the hell I am, then quickly answer my phone before it gets loud enough to wake Jack's Dad.
"Hello?" I say. Of course it's a call out. After asking for the address, I hang up and turn to find Jack watching me sleepily. At some point in the night I've ended up lying on his arm – but he doesn't appear to have noticed. His accent comes out very strongly – making it nigh on impossible for someone unfamiliar to understand him, but I do.
"They're making you leave, aren't they!" he grumbles – groggy with sleep.
Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that. It was a statement more than a question and he made it sound rather like I'm being exiled from the country!
"Mm-hm." I agree, leaning over to give him a kiss. "Try and get some more sleep before Thomas calls you." I instruct. "Happy Christmas!"
"Oh – Yeah. Happy Christmas!" He mumbles, turning over, once I've released his arm by sitting up.
"See you later." I whisper as I exit the room after getting ready – but he's already fast asleep.
It's not until later that I realise I kissed him on the lips this morning. I've never done that before. I don't think he realised at the time either.
"Can't get away from each other, can we?" I almost chuckle later when Clarissa announces over my ear piece that Jack is on his way to the scene.
"Is that what you want?" She asks.
The ear pieces are part of a new comms system we're trying and so far, it seems to work quite well. We are also are wearing cameras down at the scene – sending pictures back to the Lyell. It occurs to me that Clarissa and Thomas are not necessarily aware that Jack and I were planning to spend Christmas together anyway, considering that we didn't exactly announce the fact - so she probably thinks I was looking forward to a break from him.
"You said yourself – it's been one hell of a year!" I answer – neither confirming nor denying her question.
"It's not over yet!" She points out.
True, it's not. The call out is a shoot-out at a family home – a big house, housing a family called 'McMorris'. A whole family shot at Christmas – I mean, who would do such a thing? But someone has.
The action at the scene doesn't start until after Jack's arrived – not that I'm, blaming him for it.
"This is not the Christmas I was expecting!" He remarks announcing his arrival over the comms – without actually saying 'hello' to anyone.
I hear Clarissa and Thomas – who's also back at the Lyell, chuckle over my ear piece.
"Hello Jack!" The former greets him.
"We're about to head inside." I inform him, glancing up just in time to see a slightly shy smile. I wonder whether it's just occurred to him that I kissed him on the lips when we woke up.
"They're going to go over to McMorris's haulage company. See what they can find out there." DI Gibbs tells me.
"This is Jack. DI Gibbs." I say, introducing them to each other.
"Hi" He answers politely.
"Morning." Gibbs nods at him. "The DCI is on his way." She continues. "They were already looking for Mr McMorris, but at least now they know he's not the body in the four-by-four."
"This is where the gunman was probably standing." I announce, taking up a stance a little way off from the burnt-out vehicle.
"Take a photo." Clarissa instructs from over the ear piece. "I'll see if I can identify-"
She never gets the chance to complete her sentence, because a gunshot rings out at the scene.
Jack
We all freeze momentarily in shock - and then run for cover.
"What was that?!" I hear Clarissa say. "Nikki? Jack?" Then she yells for Thomas.
"A gunshot." Nikki answers from her hiding place. "I don't know where it came from."
Her voice sounds tiny because my ears are ringing from the gunshot. I try to spot her through the tree leaves but she's out of sight. I can hear her over the comms, so I know she's alive and unhurt, but I need to see that she's ok with my own eyes.
"Nikki, stay where you are." Clarissa instructs firmly.
"Armed command, get them back in here!" I yell. Then my blood runs cold when I hear Thomas over the comms from the Lyell.
"Has she been shot?"
I immediately think that Nikki's been hit after all. "Nikki!" I yell, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of her. To my overwhelming relief, she yells back.
"I'm fine!"
The bullet must have hit the DI.
"What can you see?" I shout – then wish I hadn't. I need her to stay hidden – where she's safe but now I can see her craning her neck around the wall to get a look. It's one of the few times she done as she's told and for once, I wish she hadn't.
"Stay where you are!" I bellow desperately. "Stay where you are!"
I hear Nikki mutter something but due to my current level of hearing after the earlier bang, it's something that I can't catch. I can guess what it is though - there's no way that Nikki would look, see Gibbs and not go over to help. Once again, I regret asking her to 'describe the scene' because my worst fears are confirmed when she springs up and darts across to where Gibbs is collapsed in pain. Nikki did indeed say she was going to help.
"Shit!" I retort.
I hear Thomas's exasperated voice. "Oh no! Nikki!"
Like I said, Nikki has to help everyone even if it puts her directly in the firing line – quite literally this time. She never listens to me when I'm trying to keep her safe. Why does she never bloody listen?!
Nikki drops down next to Gibbs. "Where's the gunman?" She demands of the casualty. "Did you see him?"
"No." Gibbs answers, groaning in pain. "Please...please..."
"Stay awake now." Nikki instructs calmly – her doctor head firmly on.
Gibbs groans again. "I can't!"
"Has anyone seen the gunman?" I yell. I'm cut off when another bullet ricochets, and as I'm coming to terms with it, I hear Clarissa's distinct – but far away voice. She sounds worried.
"Is Jack safe?"
It's followed by Nikki's even more terrified voice yelling: "I don't know. Jack?!"
"Yeah I'm here! Stay down! The gunman seems to be firing at the car."
Which is where Nikki and Gibbs are. Again, Nikki ignores me and doesn't stay down far enough.
As I'm about to repeat my warning, I'm stopped in my tracks by another gunshot. Nikki cries out and I see her fall forward from where she's been crouching over Gibbs.
"Nikki!" I yell in horror and disbelief – for there is no doubt that the bullet hit her this time. "Nikki!"
I hear Thomas over the comms. "Nikki? Talk to me – are you hurt?"
She gasps and manages to sit up, clutching her upper arm – which is oozing blood. "I'm fine." Because she always is. No matter what. "It just got my arm. Stay there, Jack!" She adds firmly – seemingly aware that I'm preparing to join her next to Gibbs.
If she thinks that I'm staying here when she's hurt – she's got another think coming.
It's my turn to ignore her.
