I Ran Into a Pole

One of these days I will really kick his ass and he'll be sorry.

The road towards the village was bumpy but Nicolette didn't mind as she guided the truck towards her destination while coming up with a thousand and one things to say to the subject of her ire and worry. She was angry because he hadn't come back and she was worried because he hadn't come back and she hadn't been able to find him in the usual places. So the unusual or the last place in this part of the world was up.

They were supposed to be leaving for their final training run that day. They were going to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere and they had to hike it back with a day's worth of rations a piece. It was just like what her friend John "Soap" MacTavish went through when he went through Selection. He was actually agreeable to it and teased her about him being able to outlast her and that he looked forward to seeing her survive on a day's rations. It was a graduation run of sorts since their six months was up and he was heading back to Birmingham or Hereford or wherever.

That day though it was like he disappeared. He didn't show up for a quick meal or anything. His room was neat except for the fact that she found the bed not so neatly made. That was unusual since he was meticulous about the whole military style thing with his gear. She was frugal herself but her idea of neatness was different from his and just seeing that… she sensed something was off. Being the friend she was, she considered that maybe it was a mental prep thing he was doing and he was out with last minute training.

She checked everywhere possible at the facility that was on loan to her from the Company and didn't find a thing except the people that maintained the grounds. She didn't even find him at the shooting range, which was a favorite spot of theirs since MacTavish spent quite a bit of his free time improving her aim and turning her into a decent sniper shot. Nothing there. The only other thing was that he took a long run and lost track of time.

It wasn't much to pull out the truck that they had used to go to the village a couple of times. Mostly it was for supply runs and just to take a day completely off. If MacTavish had gone in the direction of the village then she could catch him on the way back and maybe offer a lift back. It was in her mind to taunt him by making him try to catch her in the truck. He had pulled that one on her once or twice. As it got darker and no sign of MacTavish where she anticipated he might be, she grew concerned. The village was nice and friendly but there were a few that had tried to cause trouble and they had a couple of narrow escapes with that.

She became worried that she might end up finding MacTavish in a ditch or strewn across the road if he had been outnumbered and he was scrappy in a fight. He actually laughed at her use of that word since he didn't think that applied to him but to her. Of course she said that she was overall awesome since this training thing was her idea and it worked and he merely scowled saying that she was a bossy nag who knew how to interrupt a good night's worth of sleep and breaking and entering. That was nothing as her concern grew as she bounced along the road.

The village was a moderate sized one and there were a few places to hang out in. There were also places just to be in and browse in terms of businesses though she thought the idea of finding MacTavish in the milliner's shop hilarious… unless it was to get a knit beanie to cover his head and new look with the Mohawk. She teased him and said he was third world ugly with it but personally she liked it and it went well with the stubble that just didn't go away no matter how many times he shaved. She admitted that he was cute scruffy with his five o'clock shadow and that had him scowling but it was spoiled by his cheeky grin and he teased her about her own hair.

After eliminating the unlikely and possible suspects, she came to the one place that had her get a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was only one reason to come here aside from the sports games that played on the mounted big screens. Glad that she wasn't dressed to impress and looked more like she was going for a nature walk, she took a breath and entered the pub. Immediately the smells of alcohol and smoke hit her nostrils as she looked around from her spot at the entrance, looking for what she was seeking.

Finding it, she heaved a quiet sigh and walked deeper into the pub. There was nothing wrong with the place. They did have good sandwiches and the proprietor was friendly with her. He had the hobby of computer games on the side and he was forever asking her about RAM and bits and bytes. She was happy to oblige then and still was but now her attention was to the figure huddled over the bar in a far corner. At least he was taking it private.

Slowly Nicolette approached the figure and gently tapped/punched his shoulder and said, "A little early for celebrating isn't it? We haven't even gone on our trip yet." She leaned against the bar and peered around to get a good look.

MacTavish was drunk but he was a functional drunk up until a point. He looked at Nicolette and said, "Don't feel like it Nico. I'm celebrating."

Nicolette looked at MacTavish with a bland expression and asked gently, "What are you celebrating then? Cause it sure as hell isn't for the six month anniversary." Her tone held a slight sarcastic edge to it.

MacTavish eyed her blearily and held the shot of whiskey in his left. He tapped the bar to indicate a round for her and said, "I'm celebrating my mates. They still haven't forgiven me."

Nicolette let the shot be poured. There was no need to indicate no. She wasn't intending on drinking anyway. She studied MacTavish as he looked at her expectantly. She picked up the shot with the same bland expression and held it up. MacTavish clinked his glass to hers and downed his shot. She didn't and put it back down on the counter; he wouldn't notice anyway and he didn't saying, "Good men and I'm stuck here."

Nicolette understood where this was coming from. It fit together with his not perfectly made bed, the disappearing all day and the drunkenness… he had a nightmare about the bridge again. She asked, "On the bridge again?"

"Aye," MacTavish replied. He attempted to sit up but he was a bit wobbly. He had the presence of mind to grip the edge of the bar to steady himself. "We were all there. I wasn't hurt and every one of those chaps was."

Nicolette softened her expression. The last time she had seen him like this was well… he wasn't drunk but he was depressed. They called it survivor's guilt and he was suffering from it pretty badly. He had been going through it when he started on his PT routine and it was part of the reason why she brought him out here. She couldn't make it go away but at least give him the chance to work with it and away from an environment that seemed to be making him miserable. She said quietly, "You were hurt Soap. They said you might not make it."

"And they asked why I did," MacTavish said as if it were a logical conversation. He took her shot and downed it. He started muttering and ended up in a fairly good imitation of Price saying, "How'd a Muppet like you get to live and the rest of us die?" He looked at Nicolette and asked her, "You know the answer to that one Nico? You bloody well know everything else and yer probably waiting to tell me to piss off."

"Why would I do that?"

"Don't be a bloody schoolgirl, Nico. That bloke Griggs liked you and you were getting friendly with him."

For the love of Pete, I told you there was nothing about that. Nicolette tried not to get upset. MacTavish was already upset enough since he was forcing himself down memory lane and his own mind was taking him to places of accusation. She wasn't a shrink but she knew well enough that there were tons of triggers that could set off something like this. She had to figure it out. "Soap, I told you Griggs was my brother's friend. You're mine."

"Then why are you leaving?"

It dawned on Nicolette that MacTavish's mind may have twisted the fact that the 'graduation run' was the end. He assumed that they would be going their separate ways and he would be alone. It was an effective trigger and she didn't even want to know what else went on in his head during that nightmare. She replied, "I'm not going anywhere but I think we better get back. You're lucky that the heli pilot has a good sense of humor." She made a move to put her hand in the crook of his elbow.

"I'm not finished," MacTavish murmured. He called for another drink.

Nicolette sighed but still held onto his elbow. Slowly she let go and looked around. Finally she tapped his shoulder to get his attention, "Okay one more but then we go."

"Bossy nag."

"Stubborn prat," she muttered. She decided to make herself comfortable since MacTavish decided that he was going to take his time with the last drink. Even when drunk he could be a sly bastard when he wanted to. "You get the cold shower when we get back."

"Make me."

Nicolette couldn't help but chuckle at that. Drunk or sober, MacTavish liked a good verbal fight and was forever trying to goad her into a sparring match. She humored him on occasion but for the most part made him frustrated and he kept coming back for more. She wondered why considering he did say she was a pain in the ass one too many times to count. She traced the wood grains of the bar as she let him have a last drink.

"Hey there love. Are you looking for some fun?"

Nicolette smelled the alcohol breath and bad body odor and recognized the voice. It was a fine time to be here. She turned to look at the two men that were looking at her. That was just perfect. She replied, "No thank you. I'm enjoying myself with my friend here."

"That drunken bastard? Looks like he can't even give you a good time."

Nicolette stared at the pair with a look that didn't really give an expression but it had scared away plenty. She replied in a polite voice, "Please just leave us alone. We are fine."

The drunk closest to her, grabbed her arm and said angrily, "I asked you for some fun. You think you're too good for it? You want that broken drunk there who gets his ass beaten by a girl?"

MacTavish was slowly getting roused up and he turned to look at the two there. He said, "You don't have a clue wanker."

Nicolette watched and tried not to sigh in exasperation. Now was not the time to get into a name calling session. The drunk holding to her said, "And you do? No mate. You're gonna sit back down and let us have well deserved fun… like when you let them down."

MacTavish stood up suddenly, "You don't know anything! You don't know shite!"

"Oh tough guy. Lemme guess," the one closest to MacTavish touched his dog tags that had been hanging on the outside. Normally he had them tucked into his shirt but given what kind of a day he was having, they were out and the wanker in front of him was fingering them and taunting him, "Washout. Couldn't prove you're a m…"

"Stop it," Nicolette warned. That was not a place to go, not with the way MacTavish was at the moment. It was a sensitive subject and even she understood there were certain boundaries you didn't cross.

"It's fine Nico," MacTavish said as he stood up. "This pillock doesn't know what it's like to run a 5k, pit run with live ammo and survive on a day's rations. The bugger has never been close enough to kiss a Hind firing at them. He knows shite." He was wobbling on his feet a little.

"Then why are you here as a sodding drunk? Let your mates die?" It came out as a sneer and exactly as intended.

"Hey!" Nicolette's teeth were gritted. She tried to wrest her arm away from the drunken bastard.

"Oh you gonna let the girl fight for you?"

Nicolette managed to get her arm free and moved to start ushering MacTavish out. She said, "He's not gonna fight. We're leaving." She started pushing MacTavish towards the door, pushing against his chest as he took a couple of teetering backwards steps. "Please, John," she muttered.

It seemed to work and MacTavish turned to leave. It would have been a great escape but the drunkard who had been insulting him said, "Go on. It's not like you could get much out of that slut."

Everyone in the pub was trying to mind their own business but it was uncharacteristically quiet; they were watching. Nicolette felt her cheeks grow hot but she was determined to not let this get out of hand. She held onto MacTavish but he brushed her off and marched right back and demanded, "What did ya say wanker?"

"You heard me. Can't get much out of a whore."

MacTavish went with his impulse and gave a slight nod before he threw a punch that caught the guy across the jaw. He stared at the fallen drunk and said, "Don't talk like that about her."

Nicolette had blinked in surprise at the movement MacTavish did. She was grateful but now she needed to get him out before it got worse. She had walked up saying it was okay and that they needed to go and ended up walking into a punch from the drunk's partner. She hit the ground after knocking a table over and the glasses on it shattered.

MacTavish retaliated and punched that guy with an equally hard punch. He was tackled from behind by the other blighter and rammed into the bar. It didn't stop him though since he elbowed the guy. It allowed him to pull the guy forward and slam his face into the bar a couple of times before punching him. As he turned though he got a punch to the face and was knocked down.

Nicolette had gotten to her feet after getting hit. She watched MacTavish slam the guy into the bar and then get punched by the other. MacTavish got a kick to the ribs when she sprung forward and shoved the bastard aside. That didn't make him stop. He took a swing at her and she dodged it. He tried a couple of other punches and she blocked them before giving a kick to the groin that had him bent over. She then shoved him over.

She would have been hit by the other guy but MacTavish was up and he grabbed the guy and said, "That's not nice. Now apologize."

"Go to bloody hell."

MacTavish growled, "Already been there." He pulled the drunk over his knee hard and brought his fist on the guy's back. "Already been there bloody bastard."

It would have gone on further but the pub owner actually cocked a shotgun and told the two drunks to get out before he pressed charges. They stumbled out just as MacTavish started to feel the effects and was about ready to collapse. Nicolette grabbed a hold of him to steady him. She apologized, "I'm sorry. I'll…"

"Don't worry about it love. You better go," the pub owner said.

Nicolette nodded. This wasn't over but she would handle it later. Right now MacTavish was about to pass out on her and he could get heavy. "Come on John. Help me out here."

"Just getting started."

"You're done." Nicolette stumbled out dragging MacTavish with her. "Heavy Scottish bastard."

"Bossy nag," MacTavish mumbled. He had no idea what he was doing but he managed to help by staying on his feet.

Nicolette got him back to the truck and managed to get him inside though he protested loudly saying, "I know how to do it."

"And you'll slam your leg in the door doing that," she retorted as she got him in the truck and shut the door before he could protest.

She had got in the driver's side and took a moment to look at MacTavish. He was leaning against the window of the truck. His breath was fogging where it hit the window. There was a red spot developing on his cheek and it looked like he was going to have a shiner in the morning. Her own face was burning with pain and embarrassment and surprise at how readily MacTavish responded. It was something that she sort expected and yet didn't expect. She turned the ignition on and put the truck into gear to get them back. It was going to be a bumpy ride and she wasn't going to make it pleasant for MacTavish since he was the one that got himself drunk.

"Why Nico?"

Nicolette looked at MacTavish. He was still leaning on the door but he was cognizant in his drunken state to some degree. "Why what?"

"Why didn't I die? Why didn't you leave me to die? You don't even like me." MacTavish's eyes were shut as his forehead pressed against the cooled window glass.

Nicolette felt her jaw drop at that. She wondered why he would even say that. Her throat convulsed and she replied, "I never said I didn't like you… and you're my friend. I always look after my friends."

"Would've been better. You didn't like being there. Didn't like me… been better off," MacTavish rambled. He sighed and his breath fogged the window. "Didn't like you at first bloody Yank… but you're okay."

Nicolette let him ramble as she drove not sure if it was his actual thoughts or if it was the alcohol finally talking but it seemed the best idea to keep up a conversation. She replied, "I did like the team Soap. I ended up liking you. You are easy."

"Don't say that. You're not like that."

Okay so he's still on that too. Had he been sober she would have teased him about it being his problem taking what she said. She replied, "I said you. Scottish bastard."

"You're cute when you call me that. And bloody well funny when you say 'bloody hell'. "

It was lucky they were back in the barracks of the facility. Nicolette wasn't sure if she liked where this conversation was going. Certainly it was the alcohol talking since MacTavish would never admit that she was cute and he definitely would have poked harder at her attempts at British euphemisms and she would have said something like she picked up a few things and then ended it with 'so sue me'.

"And your graceful lass… you should've shone hem with your knives."

"Okay Soap I think you've had enough. Let's get your heavy Scottish ass to bed and maybe Banning will be agreeable to flying us out tomorrow." She knew the chopper pilot would be agreeable to it. He took a liking to her and they had become friends of a sort.

"S' not the best you could do," MacTavish muttered as he allowed himself to be helped to his room and bed. He didn't even bother taking off his boots but just collapsed onto the bed. "You could do better."

"And I'm sure you'll regret saying that in the morning," Nicolette replied wondering what it was with MacTavish assuming that every guy she made friends with wasn't the one. She wasn't interested in them that way. Maybe he was still thinking about Griggs but that was like the guy was her brother's friend and she was just being nice.

"You're my friend, Nico. Always look after my friends," MacTavish murmured.

"That's my line mate," she replied softly as she tugged off his boots. He could do whatever he wanted with the clothes and sheets and that was if he woke up. She set them out of the way so he wouldn't trip and checked to make sure that he wasn't going to suffocate himself before leaving.

"I'm glad you came back Nico. You came back and saved me… you deserve a better friend than me… and I do like you."

Nicolette stared at the man who drifted off into a drunken sleep. There was no expression on her face since there wasn't one to adequately convey what she thought. She blinked and looked at nothing in particular before leaving the man's room and quietly shutting the door. It was tempting to be rude with it considering all the trouble he had caused that day but she showed him some mercy.

MacTavish was out but he felt the hangover the next morning as he ambled through the barracks. Everything seemed ten times amplified and it didn't help that the noise coming from the main room was very loud. He got a good idea why when he saw his friend picking through things and making a lot of unnecessary noise with it. He really deserved that one though he could remember that she was nice about it when she found him in the pub.

It had been a nightmare and one that was a mixture of memories from the bridge where Price actually asked him why he got to live and the others didn't. There was one other thing that bothered him and he just… he took off to think about it and he found himself in the pub. He took the first drink and wallowed in his thoughts and one thing led to another. No wonder she was pissed and it showed. He tried to be cute about it as he slowly approached her from behind while trying to get over the panging in his head, "Alarm clock not working?"

"It's working just fine, Soap. This is special for hangovers," Nicolette said as she dropped the pan she was holding purposely on the ground and turn to face MacTavish. Her hands were folded like she did in the Russian hospital. "How do you feel?"

MacTavish blinked at the sight. He saw the welt on her cheek just under her eye that was a shade of purple. It had him wondering and he asked, "What happened?"

"I ran into a pole," Nicolette replied automatically still looking at MacTavish.

MacTavish wondered if he caused that and it sent a shiver of panic at that. He never intentionally hit her before and the times he did, that was because they were sparring and even then he never left a mark like that on her. He hissed and then winced since his face hurt too. He brushed it aside and tentatively reached out to touch her face and examine the bruise. "What really happened?"

"Do you even remember what you did yesterday?"

MacTavish studied the bruise and forced his pounding head to remember. He remembered sitting in the pub and she came in telling him they had to go but she allowed one last drink. Then those two blokes… He remembered what set him off and he threw the first punch and she… He then remembered the fight and particularly remembered when she made one of them sing and that was because he was down and getting kicked. He looked at her and asked, "And…?"

"I walked into a pole… and so did you," she replied as she pointed at his face.

It wasn't much to take a look using the pan she had made noise with and he looked at her and apologized, "I'm sorry Nico. I just…"

"I am going to guess that it was a bad dream and one thing led to another about the bridge and you wound up in the pub." Nicolette turned to finish what she was doing.

"Not the best choice I know, lass," MacTavish replied. There wasn't much he could do for his face but he did feel like shite that she got involved. "You shouldn't have come," he said quietly.

"Oh but I had to," Nicolette replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Since we were supposed to head out yesterday and you didn't report so I spent the entire day making sure it wasn't some forgetting on your part."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah everybody is sorry," she muttered. She sighed and said, "Banning said he will drop us in still. And I don't want to hear about a hangover. Your damn fault."

"I can only say sorry so many times."

"Then don't," Nicolette said as she turned to face MacTavish. She was upset that he got drunk and yet she couldn't blame him for the reasons why. Taking a breath she added, "Look, if you want a pity party fine. It's not like I get why since I'm not a soldier." It was mean to say that but she was angry.

"Don't be like that. It was a bad choice on my part and I am a bastard for doing that." MacTavish looked around trying not to raise his voice since it wouldn't do his head any favors and he didn't want to shout at her. "Honestly, I appreciate everything you've done Nico. You were annoying about it like the bloody Yank you are but… it was good and just thinking that it's over… you would... we would be going our separate ways and…" He didn't finish but shrugged his shoulders.

"You can be a stupid pillock," Nicolette said with a firm look. "Yeah we have different jobs but that is stupid. We'll always be friends."

"It was stupid and I am sorry."

"Don't be. It could happen to anyone," Nicolette waved it off. It could and she had her chance to vent.

"No, I am sorry Nico." MacTavish just stood there looking at her waiting to see if she was going to walk out or say something. "You can kick my flaming arse if it'll make you feel better," he offered with a crooked smile.

Nicolette stole a glance at the look he was giving her and she replied, "Cheeky bastard." She gave a slight smile.

MacTavish felt relief and gave a slightly better smile, "Learned from the best."

"In your dreams."

MacTavish chuckled a little but winced since it hurt his face. He rubbed the sore spots and rubbed his jaw. He must have been hit harder than he remembered but he had a good reason to. He asked, "So I ran into a pole?"

"More like ran into it and knocked it over," Nicolette confirmed. She motioned for him to follow where she had something to reduce the swelling. "Though the others were hit by the pole after getting hit by a truck," she added. She wet a washcloth with cold water and handed it over. "I just walked into it and fell flat on my ass."

It would have been funny but MacTavish didn't find it funny. He was upset that his choice led to that and would have been content to grouse about it except Nicolette said that she wasn't going to have his moping ass on this last run or some version of that. He tried and when they were out in the forest, he got smacked in the face by a tree branch and it didn't do wonders for his face or head. It did have Nicolette saying that it was his day for walking into poles.

Since then 'walking into a pole' became a saying they used when something stupid happened and it left a mark. He certainly walked into more poles that last run than anything they did those six months. And they definitely left a mark.

A/N: One shot taken from Outbreak in which Nico and MacTavish remember the pub fight where the phrase "I ran into a pole" came in. Inspired by crazychi's comments and questions.