Chapter Four.

Damages.

Rhian drops onto the bed and buries her face in the pillow, tears welling in her eyes. She can't do this. Her fingers fist in the pillow, and she wipes a hand roughly across her face. Her head gives a dull ache and Rhian presses her hand to her temples, still sniffing.

She rolls over and stares at the picture on her bedside table, eyesight blurred.

'I can't do this Paul, I can't do this!' She whispers hoarsly. He looks back, his arm around her, dark eyes smiling.

She reaches out to touch his cheek, her fingertips brushing the photograph. It wasn't fair. But a bitter part of her laughs. Life isn't fair.

'Shut up. Shut up!' She shouts, covering her ears and curling up into a ball.

Her mobile rings, and she freezes for a moment, a sob welling in her throat. Then she swallows it, and picks up the phone.

'Hello?' her voice is normal, crisp and businesslike.

'Rhian.'

She pauses, biting her lip hard. 'Yan,' she replies, her voice a little sharper than usual.

'I saw your good work today, Paul will be happy.' Yan's voice is playful, painful to Rhian's sore ears.

'You leave him out of this,' she hisses, trying to sound in control. It seems to work, because all Yan reply with is quiet laughter.

'For today, maybe. But I'll need some more progress,' his voice is silky.

'He's given me his number.'

'Good,' she can almost hear him smile. 'Give it to me.'

Rhian sucks in a breath. For Paul.

'Wait a second.' She pushes herself off the bed and pads through into the hallway, the paper on the table where he had left it.

She swallows before reading it out. '07226391575… Got it?'

'Thank you,' Yan's voice gives nothing away.

'How is he?' Rhian finds herself blurting out, and then curses herself. He can't know she's weak.

Yan takes his time answering. 'He's… alive.' Then he hangs up, leaving Rhian in total silence, save for her heart and her breath fast and hard in her ears.


'You abandoned the case and lost our only link with connections to the Brotherhood! If I didn't need you on the team so badly I'd tell you to take some time off, to sort out your priorities.' Harry's fury fills the room, a palpable entity.

'I couldn't just leave her there!' Lucas, equally angry, turns his back on Harry and stares furiously out the glass of Harry's office.

'You should have phoned the ambulance and carried on with the case. For God's sake Lucas, you can't go round knocking over civilians and then offering them a lift home every time they happen to be a pretty face,' Harry sits heavily into his chair. 'I know you were upset when you found out about your wife, and I know after eight years alone in a Russian prison-'

'I was fully aware of what I was doing when I offered to take her home,' Spits Lucas angrily. 'I'll make contact with Osmanovic some other way.'

Harry stands again. 'There's nothing wrong with backing down when you've made a mistake, Lucas.'

Lucas chews his lip and says nothing.

Harry lets out a heavy sigh. 'I can't say this any other way Lucas, you've jeopardised this whole operation.' His voice is harsh, sharp with the bitterness of having to chastise his officer.

Their silent fuming is interrupted by Ros sticking her head round the door, her lips a thin line and her eyes betraying nothing.

'Have you two finished debating the price of spilt milk, or do you need a bit longer to stew?' She asks, deadpan.

Lucas is too angry to find her wryly amusing, but he follows her out of the office, a glowering Harry just behind him.

So far there's not been much progress. The only official files on the prisoners known to be in the Brotherhood belong to the FSB and Harry has warned the team firmly about raising any suspicions. So they've had to tread carefully. The email to Mr Allingham had been sent from a fake email using a public IP address, and while Malcolm had traced the message as far as he could, the trail had run cold. Their only hope now is that Osmanovic can be contacted again.

Lucas gets given the job of watching Mr Allingham's house, as punishment for his recklessness. He sits in the van, seething silently, not bothering to talk to the two other agents, who tiptoe round him, sending each other knowing glances and infuriatingly supercilious smirks.

He's about to get very angry for the fourth time that afternoon, when his phone vibrates in his pocket. Expecting a curt message from Harry, he flips it open to find a text message, from Rhian.

Am still at home. Bored. Fancy a drink later?

Rhian.

Lucas stares at the text. Was she making a move on him? The untrusting part of him wonders what she wants, what she'll get out of it. But the other half finds himself rather pleased.

His lips twitch upwards as he sketches a reply.

Make it drinks and then dinner's on me. See you round 8? Your place.

Lucas.

He runs a finger up the side of his mobile once he's sent it, thinking. The heart is capable of loving more than one person Lucas. Elizabeta's words have haunted him, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Not love. Not just yet. But like. Like was Ok.


At five minutes past eight, Lucas is standing outside Rhian's flat, silently daring himself to knock. He's been sat in his car outside for the past ten minutes, and finally forced himself out of the drivers seat, having composed his fluttering nerves for the third time.

What was wrong with him? You haven't dated for years, thats what. A heavily sarcastic voice mutters in his head. Lucas rolls his eyes slightly and ignores it.

'Right-,' he whispers. 'Here goes nothing.'

He raps smartly, then steps back.

The door cracks open, and Lucas smiles widely when Rhian's head appears round the gap. She grins when she sees him, her dark hair loose today, a lone clip valiantly trying to secure it back from her face.

'Hello,' Lucas says.

'Hey.'

'My contribution,' he holds out a bottle of wine and rubs his hand over his jaw.

'Come on in,' Rhian opens the door wider. 'Stop hovering on the doorstep.'

Lucas relaxes himself and flashes her an easy smile as he passes.

'How are you feeling?' He asks, once he's in the living room, glancing back at her as she sets the bottle on the work surface.

'I'm fine.' Rhian's mouth turns up in a reassuring smile and she winds her way to the sofa. 'Have a seat.'

'Thanks.'

'What do you want to drink? I've got Vodka, Gin, numerous bottles of tonic, and a couple of beers. Oh and the wine.'

Lucas feels his gorge rise at the thought of Vodka. The recollection of gagging on lukewarm alcohol as it's shoved down his throat to try and cover up the pain he's feeling. After those weeks in the medical wing with treatment for septicemia, the fevers, the exhaustion and then the horror of being thrown back in his cell, mixed with the memories of the Vodka the others used to force down him, claiming it would take away some of the nightmares. It hadn't. It had twisted them, magnified them, made him mad with terror and sick at the thought of another day of living. Lucas shivered uncontrollably. Not Vodka.

'A beer's fine, thanks,' he forces himself to sound normal.

She looks pretty tonight, he notes silently. Dark jeans and a red beaded top.

She glances at him, noting a tension about his jaw and the way he's clasped his hands in his lap.

'You seem nervous,' she comments, her eyebrows raising.

Lucas lets out a breath. 'To be honest I am, I've not been on a date for a while.'

'Is this a date?'

'If you want it to be.' He grins slyly.

'Well,' Rhian smoothes her jeans. 'I don't bite.'

As she hands him his drink, he looks round the room, memorising subconsciously.

'You've moved something,' he comments suddenly, before he's even sure what he's saying. 'You had a picture. There.' He points at the dresser and raises his eyes to look at her.

Lucas senses he's hit on something painful and uncomfortable for Rhian, and begins to feel instantly guilty.

But her mouth twists into a small smile. 'Aren't you observant,' she sits down next to him. 'I had a photo there. But I moved it.' Her eyes are cast down, and there's a shadow over her face.

Lucas frowns and reaches across to take her hand, long fingers closing round hers.

She looks down at their hands intertwined, and clasps his a little.

'Sorry,' says Lucas quietly.

But she shakes her head. 'It's Ok.'

'Now!' Lucas stands, feeling it his responsibility to lighten the mood. 'I owe you dinner. Where do you want to go?'


'Bet I can guess what you studied at Uni,' says Rhian, dancing backwards up the stairs, as Lucas watches her, an amused smile on his face.

'Go on then,' he dares, still smirking.

'English!'

'No.'

'Psychology.'

'No,' he laughs.

'History?'

'No.'

'Fine!' She stops and blocks the way to her flat. 'Tell me.'

Lucas looks down at her. 'I did Philosophy and Theology.'

Rhian frowns. 'Did you enjoy it?'

'I told myself to hate every minute,' he smiles ruefully. 'But I learnt a lot from it. It taught me some good life lessons.'

'Why did you do it if you hated it?' Rhian is unlocking her flat and glances quizzically over her shoulder.

'Because my father wanted me to.' Lucas reaches for the door and shuts it behind them. 'I wanted to join the army,' he continues, taking Rhian's coat and hanging it on the stand before turning back to her. 'But my father, as a methodist minister, disapproved. He was the one who wanted me to do the Theology and Philosophy.'

'Did you get your own back?' Rhian chews her lip.

Lucas thinks of the service. Of pounding down an alley, revolver tight in hand. Of adrenaline rushes and the triumph of solving a case. 'In a way,' he says quietly and then smiles.

'I suppose I'd better be going.' He fixes Rhian with a low gaze. 'This evening's been nice. Thank you.'

He leans forward and puts his hand on her arm, lips brushing hers softly. He's surprised by the tension in her shoulder, so much she's almost shaking, but says nothing.

'We'll have to meet up again,' when she speaks, her voice is normal.

'Yep,' Lucas smiles. 'Phone me.'

As he turns and opens the door, a note that's been stuck to the hall table catches his eye. But it's not the content that makes Lucas' heart jolt and his chest tighten painfully.

He closes the door behind him, and stands outside for a second, hands clenched. There had been something sickeningly familiar about the handwriting.


I hope I've managed to capture Lucas' mixed emotions here. It was tricky to know exactly how he'd react... I've got big plans for this fic, so hopefully it won't be too long till I update.



Xanthemj - Thanks for the comments - I've been watching too much NCIS - John DOe just slips off my tongue. Hope this chapter gives you a glimpse of Rhian's troubled situation.

BeanieSgirl - Glad you enjoyed the chapter - hope this one keeps you intrigued.

BritishNinjaChick - Your worries weren't unfounded - we're going to find more about Rhian as we go on, so stay with us!

EmmaLeigh92 - Thanks for your review! I'm so happy you're enjoying it - I tend to torture myself over the plot - so I have some things up my sleeve. Hope you liked this chapter.

zelofheda -B - Thank you so much for your really encouraging reviews. It's so nice to know you're enjoying and paying attention :P As you saw, things have developed, and I hope this chapter worked for you can see, Rhian is a little more complex than you first think.

LoveSavetheEmpty - Hope you enjoyed this- Keep pestering me!