A/N: I feel a little odd saying this, given what's in this chapter but, Happy Valentine's day.
Kissing Nikki, he decides, if fast becoming his favourite pastime. One hand gently cradling the back of her head, he lets his tongue trace her mouth once more, begging for entry. Before this kiss can go any further however, he hears the door behind him crash open.
"Hey Jack, how's it … Whoa."
Instantly feeling the loss as she pulls away, he silently curses James for interrupting what was turning out to be a pretty fine kiss. James is giving them a knowing smirk, and he wants to be angry at him for it, but is feeling too happy right now to really let his ire show. Sensing Nikki's sudden embarrassment, he tries to save some face. Clearing his throat slightly, he nods in her direction. "Ok, this is a little… Um, Nikki, James. James, Nikki."
"Hi." The small wave she gives him is sicking cute, and he wants nothing more than to kiss her again, and that realisation appals him. (Seriously, what is he, a pubescent girl?!)
Wanting to get them somewhere more private than the gym, he uses the unwanted interruption to his advantage. "We were just…"
Ignoring James' knowing grin and sarcastic, "Right..." he grabs Nikki's hand, spying his shirt on the floor. Bending down, he scoops it up, motioning to the door behind him. "So we'll just…"
With a slight tug to her hand, he pulls her with him out of the room. They share identical embarrassed looks, before the hilarity of the situation hits him, and he bursts into laughter. He hasn't felt like this since he was a teenager, getting caught making out behind the bins instead of being in class. The sudden melancholic thought quietens him, and he spends a moment watching her in the throes of her own merriment before she too quietens.
Glancing at the door to the changing room behind him, he gives her a nod. "Let me just grab my bag. Two minutes, yeah?"
She nods in reply, but as she turns to rest against the wall, his eyes are drawn to the way her scarf is now loosely hanging around her neck, allowing the dark bruising to be seen. Walking back to her, he pulls the material back into place, doing so more for her than him. Satisfied, he gives her one last longing look, before turning and disappearing into the changing room.
Glancing down at his hands, he gives a rueful shake of his head. Striding over to the sink area, he turns the tap on, letting his hands fall under the warming water. Watching the once dried blood wash away down the sink, he finally gets a good look at what damage he has managed to inflict on himself. Satisfied it isn't serious enough to warrant more than simple first aid, he turns the tap off.
Patting his hands dry with paper towels, not wanting fibres from his towel getting in to the deeper cuts, he heads back to his bag. Pulling out the antiseptic cream he's taken to carrying around with him in his gym bag (this hasn't been the first time he's gone at a punch bag bare fisted) he applies a thin layer to them all, and wishing he still had some butterfly strip bandages for the deepest of the cuts; the rest being superficial enough to probably go without.
Eyeing the shower area longingly, wishing he had enough time, he instead pulls out the shirt he had exchanged for his work out top earlier, giving it a quick snap to try to smooth out the creases that have formed. Giving it up as a lost cause, he slips it on and his jacket over the top, before pushing his towel and work out top into the bag, fastening it closed.
Quickly checking to make sure he still has his phone, wallet and keys, he pushes the door open to see Nikki and James having what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Approaching them, he hears James assert, "She's very good," and his interest is piqued.
"Who's very good?"
The way Nikki jumps at his words makes him feel slightly guilty for startling her, but the overly bright smile she gives him when she turns around makes it dissipate into something more like fear. Just what, exactly, had they been talking about?
"One of the personal trainers here. James is trying to get me signed up," she says, and he doesn't for one minute believe her. (And not just because, unless there's a new employee he doesn't know about, all the trainers at this gym are male.) But he doesn't let on he knows she's talking crap, hoping she'll come clean once they get away from the place. Besides, confronting her now will surely just undo all the good that has happened in the last hour. (And he'd quite like to keep the good times going, because he doubts very much he'll be able to kiss her again if he makes her mad.)
She nods to the hand holding his bag, and asks, "Ready to go?"
He nods in return, giving James a quiet, "Thanks." over her shoulder. James nods, his face an unreadable mask, before turning back to Nikki. There is something Jack's still not quite seeing there, and the, "Just think about it, yeah?" James throws her way only helps to increase that feeling of dread that's developing in his stomach again.
Before he can ask though, Nikki has taken his hand, pulling him slightly towards the exit. At her, "C'mon," he lets himself be dragged away. Exiting into the cold air (but hey, he realises, at least it's stopped raining!) he eyes the keys she's produced warily. If he lets her drive away separately, he knows there is a real chance of them equivalently taking two steps back from the one they've most definitely taken forward by the time they reach any destination, and he's not willing to risk it.
With a shake of his head, he points to her keys. "Nope. I meant what I said earlier. I'm taking you home."
"But… What about my car?"
He sighs, glancing over at her car before over to his and back again. He really doesn't want to leave her alone again, not so soon after everything that's just come out into the open. Making a decision, (he can always come back for his car later) he moves to stand by her passenger door. "Ok, you drive." He gives her a wave, waiting for her to unlock the doors so he can get in.
Instead, she points to his. "What about yours?"
He shrugs, uncaringly. "I'll get a taxi back for it later or something."
"But…"
He sighs. "Nikki." Evidently, she isn't getting it. Moving to stand in front of her, he makes sure her eyes meet his before he tells her, "I'm taking you home. You can either drive there yourself or let me drive you, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight after what happened yesterday for the foreseeable future…" He trails off, the rest of his meaning clear in the unstated words.
He sees her waiver for a moment, obviously recalling what he'd said during his accosted phone call. "But you told Clarissa you'd go back to work after…"
He shrugs. "I know. I lied." He gives a slight grin, certain he'll get more than an earful from his friend when she realises he's decided to play hooky. The feistiness of her is one of the reasons they have been friends for as long as they have; she can always give as good as she gets, and isn't afraid to do so. "She'll get over it." (He might have to actually take her to a Michelin starred restaurant, but it'll be worth it if it means Nikki's safe.) Turning back to the matter at hand, he waves his hand in the air to indicate the two cars. "Now, who's driving?"
He watches as she gives each car a glance, before her fist closes around her keys once more. "I am," she tells him, the look on his face daring him to stop her again, but he doesn't, instead just shoots her a grin. He can tell the Nikki he knows (the strong, independent, feisty one; not the weak falling-apart-at-the-seams one he so rarely gets to see) is taking back control, and he loves it. (Hell, he loves both versions, but the strong one challenges him in a way no other woman (except maybe Clarissa) has ever done, and he likes that. (So what does that say about him, anyway?))
Settling in to the passenger seat, he waits until she has switched the engine on before reaching for the radio, eager to find a station they can both listen to without it driving one of them insane (a surprisingly hard task, he's learnt over the years.) Before he can reach the tuning dial, he is stopped by the feel of her glare. Raising an eyebrow in question, she tells him sternly, "No singing."
That she is feeling strong enough to start making demands of him thrills him, and he shoots her a little grin. "Scouts honour."
She snorts in response. "Yeah, like you were ever in the scouts."
He ups the ante, mock hurt and offence colouring his tone as he responds. "How dare you. I'll have you know, I was a proud member of the scouts for a very long time." The look she gives him tells him she doesn't believe a word of it. He sighs. "Ok. Maybe a month. A week," he corrects, adding a fake pout to the act. She raises an eyebrow, and he can see a smile flirting around the corner of her mouth. With a feigned put out sigh, he eventually admits, "Ok, fine, a day, and they kicked me out."
She lets out a quick snicker of laughter at that, and his heart feels lightened. Whatever it was that had her acting all cagey around him earlier has evidently been forgotten (by her, at any rate). Wanting to keep the jovial mood up, he gives a mock sigh in return. Motioning to the road before them, he demands resignedly, "Just drive."
He lasts five minutes of cheesy eighties hit after cheesy eighties hit (seriously, is there nothing modern on this station?!) before he needs to distract himself from the air between them that's becoming stilted. When the next song begins, he starts his own drum solo across the dashboard. He manages to continue on with the next song, and the one after that before she starts sending him death glares. He'd like to point out at least he isn't singing, but it's started raining again and he doesn't want to be kicked out of the car. Instead, giving her a sheepish look, he mutters, "Sorry," stilling his hands.
They travel the next few minutes in silence, and he can feel the air become thick with tension again. Not quite knowing how to break it, he's shocked out of his thoughts when she starts humming along to the next song that comes on to the radio.
There has always been an unwritten rule between them during car journeys (totally her idea); if he can't sing, she won't hum. That she has taken to breaking her own rule means he is no longer bound by it either, and he breaks into a smile, before joining in with the chorus. Loudly. With arm actions and everything that almost collide with her arm on the steering wheel. "Ain't no mountain high enough! Ain't no valley low enough! Ain't no river wide enough to stop me from getting to you babe."
The sheer over-exuberant display has the effect it hopes it would; she bursts out laughing, all the tension between them disappearing. "Oh my god. Stop."
He continues his antics along with the next verse, complete with imaginary microphone. Really, it's a wonder they don't crash. As the chorus starts up again, he falls quiet, the words he's just so emphatically delivered echoing in his head repeating themselves. When she turns to him at his abrupt stillness, he nods his head towards the radio. "It's true, you know?"
She pauses, studying him as they wait for a red light, before giving him a small smile in response. "I know."
He wants to reach across the centre console and kiss her again (and is in fact reaching for her to do just that) when the car behind them gives an impatient beep on their horn. Giving a wave, Nikki pulls forward again, and he resettles himself in his seat, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face. As they continue on, he gives in to his desire, and starts steeling quick glances of her profile when she isn't looking; feeling the heat of her gaze when she does the same.
Facing her for longer than he had previously dared to, he is met by her own gaze when she tries to take her own subtle look once more. The blush that covers her cheeks when she realises she has been caught looking is surprising, and it makes him grin like a fool. He gets away with it when she determinedly doesn't look at him again for the rest of the journey.
Eventually, they reach the car park of her flat, but when she doesn't immediately move to exit the car herself he stills. Finally, she turns to look at him, asking, "Do you want to…"
"I'm coming in," he tells her. (Seriously, when is she going to get that he meant it when he said he wasn't letting her out of his sight? (The fact she's recently been attacked at home is also slightly praying on his conscience, even if he's not going to tell her that.)) Following her inside the main door, he pauses outside her flat while she struggles with her keys. When the shaking continues however, he steps forward.
"Hey," he sooths, pulling the keys from her hands, inserting them into the lock for her. "It's just me." She gives an embarrassed laugh as he does so, slightly shaking her head. Standing back, he lets her enter her flat first, allowing her to regain some sort of control. Following in behind her, he stops to pull off his jacket, fishing his phone out as he does so.
There's a few missed calls from Clarissa, and he feels slightly guilty he has yet to really speak to her after bolting out of the Lyell centre earlier. He hears Nikki say something about coffee, and then the click of the kettle and the bustle of porcelain as she fusses in the kitchen.
Finishing his text, apologising for his behaviour, he hears a muttered curse, then Nikki call out to him, "Hey Jack, grab me my phone, would you?"
He spots her coat where she has let it fall under the scarf she's been wearing all day, and with a mutter to himself about how she can't even come out the few yards to pick it up herself, starts rifling through her pockets. His hand close around two things, and he brings them both out. One is her phone, but his attention is grabbed by the business he's pulled out along with it.
The card itself is unremarkable in its design. Simple, black, with white lettering in a no nonsense professional font. But it is the "Solicitors of Domestic Abuse and Family Law" under the unfamiliar name that has his blood freezing in his veins, and he is transfixed.
Hearing her entering the hallway, he holds up the card for Nikki to see. "Why do you have…? Where did you get this?"
He watches as she takes in the little rectangle of card he's holding, her eyes going wide. "James. He thought…" she trails off, and he is suddenly horrified. It was only once they had escaped into the hallway of the gym that he had fixed the position of her scarf. James must have seen the bruising, and had flashed to the wrong conclusion.
Feeling himself fill with anger and a little bit of hurt that his friend could think so little of him, he begs, "But you put him right, yeah?"
Nikki nods, and he feels himself start to relax until she shrugs. "I tried," she tells him, "he didn't…"
"What? Believe you?" A roaring has begun to take up space in his head again.
He sees Nikki shake her head. "I…"
Jack looks down, processing the event of the day in a new light. The way Nikki had been acting since the gym. The way James hadn't really met his eye. The business card, apparently from James himself. It all boils down to one sickening realisation. "Jesus Christ. That's what he meant, isn't it?" He looks up at her, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "At the gym. When I came out and you two were… Fuck."
He's going to be sick. Of all the things to be accused of, even in such a roundabout way… He thought James would know him better than to suspect he'd ever hit out at a woman. Yes, he has a temper, and yes, it's gotten him into trouble in the past, but against Nikki? Attempt to strangle Nikki?! No. Never. He'd sooner go ten rounds with Mike Tyson.
His hand has unknowingly coiled around the card he still holds, and he feels her reach out and try to uncurl it. He snatches his hand away from her, unable to stop the pain and hurt from showing on his face as he once more traces the bruising on her neck with his gaze. Feeling utterly heartbroken, he waves a hand in their general direction, managing to rasp, "He thought I did that to you."
"I…" she sobs, her hand reaching for him again, but he is deaf and numb to both, his mind trapped in a loop of horror and pain. He needs to get out of here.
"Save it." The words are cold and hard, but he doesn't realise it. He's too lost.
"But…"
"I cannot fucking believe this." Finally noticing her hand is still lying on his, he pulls away, breaking her hold on him. (God, how can she even stand to see the sight of him right now if his own friend could think him capable of…?)
"Jack. Please."
"Here." He presses her phone into her hand, before turning and all but running away, the door slamming shut behind him. Uncaring for the tears he can feel building in his eyes, he leaves her flat complex, the once again falling rain chilling him.
With a last pain filled look at her door, he turns and walks away.
TBC
A/N: You guys still with me? I promise there'll be puppies and chocolates and fluffiness soon. (Well. Maybe not puppies. Or chocolate. And I can't give a timeline on soon… but I do intend this to end on a note of hope, not despair. It's just… things were never going to go smoothly with them. That'd be far too easy.)
