Author's note:
Sorry not updated for ages! I've been keen to post another one-shot about Yousef Turani and the Navy SEALS. I've been faffing about with this one for a while... so here goes nothing. It's veering towards the dark side I suppose... although not as dark as some of the drafts. It can be read alone or as a sequel to "Kicking it Deserves". Please review!
Spoilers for S3.
...
You'll be safe with Doctor Turani
...
Yousef Turani exhaled, sorrowful as the call on his cell phone ended. As a family man being away from his loved ones was painful. He'd only seen his newborn son, Devon, at his birth, then returned to the Dam Neck military facility swiftly afterwards. Turani's extensive medical skills urgently required to help get a fugitive junkie into shape for a top secret mission in Iran.
...
As the weeks passed Turani had come to like Nicholas Brody more and more, taking personal pride in his physical, mental and emotional transformation.
It was a few days after Easter when Saul Berenson had allowed them a single day off from their intensive training schedule and the Navy SEALS had decided to hold a party.
...
"What's Carrie doing here?" Brody gulped down his mineral water.
"I'm not sure," Turani frowned. "Thought it was just us black ops guys tonight. Hopefully a Poker tournament later. After the chocolate egg hunt."
"Carrie's one of the guys." The familiar voice behind Brody and Turani caused them to spin round. "She'll win every hand."
"Peter Quinn!" Turani slapped his friend on the back, but withdrew his palm when he noticed Brody glowering before stomping away. "What are you doing here?"
"Babysitting the Easter Bunny," Quinn shrugged. "Here to make sure you rowdy lot don't get too drunk and start fighting."
Turani laughed. "Is that a joke?"
"Actually," Quinn leaned closer, "I'm chaperoning Carrie. She insisted on coming tonight. Reckon she's hoping to share a few beers with Brody."
"How do you feel about that?" Turani asked knowingly.
"I feel like she'd be better off staying the hell away from him," grumbled Quinn. "And alcohol."
"Brody's alright," Turani glanced over at the hard-working marine. "Seriously damaged, but not a bad person."
"Perhaps you're right," Quinn sighed. "Maybe I should give him a chance to redeem himself tonight."
"Well, I don't want you guys bickering again. Brody's still fragile," warned Turani. "Don't give him a hard time, even if you are jealous."
"Jealous?" Quinn shook his head. "No. Not any more."
"Oh come on man," whispered Turani, "I know you're into Carrie."
"Yeah well, it's pointless." Quinn's lips tightened. "I mean look at them..."
Turani stared across the room. Carrie and Brody were tentatively evaluating each other, eyes sparkling, effervescent together. It was obvious they'd be sneaking away later.
"If you love her, let her go." Turani poured Quinn a whisky. "Let them be."
"I'm trying," Quinn's gaze lingered on the loose black fabric gently silhouetting Carrie's slightly curved abdomen. "I'll be here for her... after Brody... after his final mission."
"Don't get your hopes up," Turani nudged him. "He'll be coming back from Iran. We all will."
...
"How's your baby boy?" Quinn changed the subject. "I sent him a fluffy rabbit for Easter."
"Devon's growing fast." Turani's shoulders slumped. "From what I can see on Skype anyhow. How's yours?"
"He's none of my business." Quinn lowered his eyes. "It's complicated. Julia got married. John has a real father now."
"Sorry," Turani was sincere.
"Carrie's pregnant with Brody's baby," Quinn blurted it out.
"What the fuck?" Turani's eyes widened. "Brody never told me! Does he know?"
Quinn shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"I'd want to know," Turani's stance shifted, a responsible furrowing of his brow. "A new life to take care of? Fatherhood is a gift!"
"Is it?" Quinn necked another whisky. "It's a gift I never accepted."
"Remember that was your choice, Quinn," Turani's eyes lacked sympathy now. "I warned you how badly you'd regret it."
"I fucked up," Quinn inhaled bitterly. "I fuck everything up these days. You hear I accidentally shot a kid in Caracas?"
"Quinn..." Turani evaluated his friend before speaking softly. "Bad things happen in our line of work."
"That's an understatement," hissed Quinn.
"You need to move on," ordered Turani. "Think about the future."
Quinn's blue eyes were sad and distant. "Perhaps I need to leave and never come back."
...
The conversation and drinks ebbed and flowed for hours. Carrie disappeared from the room, then Brody shortly afterwards.
Quinn and Turani were alerted to a commotion in the nearest bathroom.
Hafez Azizi was restraining Brody near a cubicle. He was drunkenly thrashing his arms and legs trying to escape his burly captain's grip.
Carrie was kneeling on the floor sobbing.
Blood was trickling down the cheek of one of the Navy SEALS. It was Eric Baraz and he was swaying unsteadily and muttering, cursing Brody.
"What the fuck happened?" Quinn crouched next to Carrie.
"I thought he was going to..." Carrie's blue eyes widened with fear. "Baraz came in here. Brody tried to..."
"I just wanna talk..." Baraz slurred.
"Shut up Baraz!" yelled Azizi.
"I only wanna chat," Baraz chuckled to himself, his brown eyes glazed. "Say hi to the pretty lady."
"Get Baraz out of here!" Turani was furious. "And Brody."
"I'm not going anywhere without Carrie." Brody's eyes bulged as Quinn wrapped his arms around Carrie's shoulders to comfort her.
"Quinn, take Brody to his room," Turani ordered. "A-Z take Baraz to sober up and get a formal statement about this incident."
"Is saying hi to someone a crime?" Baraz's eyes widened as Azizi released Brody. "What are you accusing me of? You know I'm just a friendly kinda guy!"
"Carrie?" Quinn's eyes were full of concern for his colleague. He reluctantly moved away from her and forcefully grappled Brody into a headlock.
"I'll check Carrie over," Turani knelt down beside her.
Carrie's eyes darted across to Quinn, afraid.
"You'll be safe with Doctor Turani," Quinn reassured her as he dragged Brody towards the door. "You can trust him."
...
Turani lifted Carrie and carried her along the corridor into a small clinical observation room. "I know about your pregnancy, Agent Mathison. Are you hurt? Injured?"
"Eric Baraz didn't do anything," Carrie shook her head. "I got a fright when he appeared in the bathroom. I was startled, I screamed. Brody came running in and punched him. I thought he was going to kill Baraz."
Turani checked Carrie's pulse and took her blood pressure. "You should lie down. Get your heart rate back to normal."
"Can I go back and see Brody?" Carrie fidgeted, agitated.
"No," Turani was resolute. "He's been drinking and fighting. He shouldn't have been drinking alcohol with the meds he's taking..."
"I'm sorry that's my fault..." Carrie bit her lip.
"It's ok," Turani patted her arm. "You weren't to know."
"Can we stay here then?" Carrie sighed, moving her feet up onto the leather couch. "It's quiet here. I'll calm down."
Turani nodded. "You stay here, I better go and check on..."
"Stay with me." Carrie patted the seat next to her, her pupils dilating.
Turani eyed her cautiously. "I'll sit at my desk. Do some work while you rest on there."
"Suit yourself," Carrie's expression was unreadable.
Turani felt unsettled as he perched on his chair and switched the computer on. He glanced across at Carrie who had curled up, foetal position. He thought how fragile she looked, like a shivering broken bird.
He stood and got a green blanket from the cupboard and draped it over her. She smiled gratefully, then the tears started.
Turani silently chastised himself for immediately realising what both Brody and Quinn saw in this beautiful woman. She was so delicate and fragile on the outside, but clearly steely and smart too. There was a feminine intensity to her energy. An aura of sensuality to each movement she made, even whilst sobbing her heart out.
"Don't cry," Turani grabbed a box of tissues
Carrie took one and sat up slightly to blow her nose.
"What's wrong?" Turani fought against the temptation to move even closer to comfort her. "Bet you've fended off worse idiots than Baraz before?"
"I'm so alone. I'm scared Brody won't come back from Iran. Everything is in place. Every detail is planned." Carrie sniffed and swallowed. "I'm flying to Tehran myself, but I'm so afraid of losing him."
Turani answered confidently. "I won't let that happen Carrie."
"I know," she blew her nose again. "I believe in you guys."
Against his better judgement, Turani tentatively reached to remove a bedraggled blonde strand sticking to her face and tucked it behind her ears.
"Thanks," Carrie smiled, touching his tanned arm lightly. They both stared at her pale hand lingering on his forearm. He swallowed and decided it might be safer to stand up.
Carrie's warm hand left his arm, but remained outstretched so her electric touch brushed his side, then down over his hip and trouser leg as he towered above her.
Turani quickly backed away, retreating to the safety of his desk. What was she doing? Where were her boundaries? She was crying over Brody, but in a split second reaching out like that. Was he imagining it? Had he invited it?
Carrie swung her legs down from the couch, then stalked towards a nervous Turani. She placed her hands firmly on his muscular shoulders. "Doctor Turani you are incredibly tense," she purred into his ear.
"Carrie, I'm married. I have a kid, a wife..." Turani spun round. "You're with Brody. Quinn would kill me..."
"Quinn?" Carrie frowned.
Turani looked for the nearest exit. "Look, let's go find Brody."
"Why would Quinn kill you?"
Turani murmured, "Figure it out."
Carrie looked confused and headed back to the couch. Sitting heavily she pondered aloud. "Quinn...?"
"Look, I shouldn't have said anything..." Turani backtracked.
"No I'm glad you did." Carrie put her head in her hands and began slowly rocking.
Turani watched her for a few seconds then bravely approached the couch again.
"Sit next to me," ordered Carrie, moving her hands from her face, her eyes flashing angrily. "Tell me everything."
"You'll have to ask Quinn," Turani tentatively lowered himself next to her. "It's not my place to say anything."
"You are teasing me Doctor Turani!" Carrie looked cross, but a mischievous glint reappeared in her eye.
"Listen..." Turani felt disoriented under her steamy gaze. "I shouldn't have said anything..."
"Peter Quinn can go fuck himself," Carrie snarled. "As if I would ever..." She shuddered. "He's trouble."
"No, he's a great guy," Turani glared at her. "You need to know that."
Carrie assessed Turani suspiciously, then she reached across and cheekily stroked his dark beard. "You're gorgeous."
"Carrie!" Turani pulled away from her. "What are you doing?"
"I like a challenge," Carrie giggled and reached to rub his thigh. You're playing hard to get and making me so..."
"Please!" Turani pushed her hand away. "Stop this."
"I like crossing lines," Carrie laughed manically. "Why do you think I hooked up with a goddamn terrorist?"
"You need help," Turani fleetingly considered the selection of sedatives in the cupboard. "Sure you haven't been drinking... or do you have a mood disorder I should know about?"
"Kiss me," begged Carrie. "Not Brody. Not Quinn. I want you!"
Turani eyed the door and mentally counted how many strides he'd take to reach it. "You'll be safe with Doctor Turani." Quinn's words still rang loud and clear. "You can trust him."
