Tipping point, by chibiness87
Rated T
Spoilers: Up to and including S.19 ep 5 – River's edge (pt 2)
Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine.
Summary: The morning after the night before.

By the time she gets back to the lab, everyone else has gone. It's a blessing in disguise, really. Because even now the bruises are beginning to form, and she doesn't really want to have to answer more questions tonight. Even if a small, (very small,) part of her would have liked it if someone, anyone (Jack) was still there to tell her everything would be ok. So when she gets back to only find a note on her desk in his scrawling handwriting, ("Good one, Nikki". And a crudely drawn smiley face,) she pretends, just for a moment, she isn't disappointed. And then she pulls herself together. Because she is Dr Nikki Alexander. And she does not need anyone to tell her she is OK. She is always OK regardless.

(Sometimes she's not, though.

She doesn't think about those times.

They hurt too much.)

The next day the bruises are much more pronounced on her pale skin than she was hoping they would have been. Simon Forsyth obviously had more of a grip on her than she thought he had. Rifling through her closet brings up very few options that would suitably cover the bruises. An old turtleneck catches her eye, but even before it is out she is dismissing it. That is an obvious attempt at hiding. She needs something a bit more subtle.

Instead she chooses a high collared blouse, and as an added protection she picks up the light scarf she had been given by the team as part of her presents for her last birthday. The deep royal blue tone complements her skin tone (that without the bruising, anyway), and the silver dragonfly accents only help to emphasise this. (That she wears them most days to work at the moment is just an added bonus; no one will question its presence, unlike the rejected turtleneck.)

She is the first to arrive, (and how is that fair, after last night?!) but at least it gives her a chance to settle in at her desk, and she is fully engrossed in a report by the time the comfortable chatter between Jack and Clarissa disturbs her peace.

"I'm just sayin', it's not the same. Nikki, back me up on this."

The sound of her name brings her head up quickly, and her scarf slips a little. "Wha-?"

But Jack doesn't repeat the question. Instead, his eyes are focused on her neck.

"Nikki? What happened?"

Her hands fly to her neck on reflex, before her brain engages and she drops it. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Except this is the first time she has tried to speak all morning and all that comes out is a harsh whisper. She sees the anger cover Jack's face, but his hands are nothing but gentle as he pulls her scarf away and gets a good look at the marks covering her skin. There is a startled gasp behind them, and she knows Clarissa has seen them too. Ducking her head, she tries to avoid their knowing looks.

Without taking his eyes off her neck, Jack speaks over his shoulder. "Clarissa, get the first aid box, would you?"

Clarissa doesn't reply, but they hear the whir of her chair as she drives away, and obviously intercepting Thomas in the hall, if the muffled conversation is anything to go by. But neither Nikki nor Jack pay it much heed.

There is still a storm in Jack's eyes as he takes in the details of the bruises. Nikki knows he can tell what has happened; she works with well trained, highly intelligent people after all. But it is what happens next that completely throws her. His hands skim over the bruises, barely touching her, and she can't keep her head like she is without basically giving him permission.

She is not ashamed, or angry. Actually, scratch that. Yes she is. But she doesn't want pity. So she goes to push his hand away with her own, only to find it caught in a loose grasp instead. Jack gives a big sigh, before his lips follow the path his hands have just taken over her neck, gossamer soft.

It is all she can do to keep breathing at this point.

Pulling back, Jack rests his head against hers, his eyes closed and the slight grip on her hand becomes more forceful. Leaning together like that, Jack whispers, "You know, I could kill him for that alone."

And she does know. She saw it in the woods when he took on their pursuer who was armed when he himself had nothing to protect himself with except his speed. And for the first time she was glad, so, so glad that he had experience of cage fighting. Because she might not be there right now if it wasn't for him.

But she also knows Jack. Knows his heart, his loyalty. Knows he is the better person at the end. Because yes, he could have pulled the trigger, claimed it was self-defence. Hell, she would have backed him up (so what does that make her, anyway?), but he hadn't.

It's not the man he is.

So she does the only thing she can in response to his statement. She rebuffs it.

"No. You wouldn't."

Jack gives a rueful sigh. "How do you know? You have no idea what I'm capable of."

She thinks back to the woods, to the times she's seen him cage fight. To the time years ago when the truth of what his brother did for him came out. Of all the cases they have worked together. Of him standing in the way of fists and cars and bullets on the way to the truth.

"I know exactly what you're capable of." She gives him a small smile.

"No. You don't."

Before she can say anything else, his mouth is pressed to hers. The kiss is quick, and hard, and full of promises and unleashed passion. Just as quickly as it starts it's ended, and she sees the anger in his eyes has been replaced by something else, something more, but equally as dangerous.

It enthrals her.

"You don't know. But if you want to find out, you know where to find me."

And then he is gone.

TBC?