Close Protection

Disclaimer – As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

Authors Note – Wow, you people seem to like the action chapters. Fights and car chases and no-one thinks it's got silly yet. You wait until Naomi has to save Emily from certain death strapped to the tracks of a railroad as the Hooded Claw legs it in the distance (-;

Bit of a change this time, hope it works for you guys.

Chapter 10 – The Eye of the Hurricane

I escorted Miss Fitch up the stairs to the small apartment I was using. She looked like microwaved shit, and had obviously decided that talking to me wasn't top of her priority list again; despite that small sign of humanity in the car park.

'Fine by me love, I don't really want to make small talk with you either.'

It wasn't until I closed the door on the apartment and told her to sit down that I noticed that she was shaking. Her hands were shaking violently and her body was rocking with shudders. At first I thought it was just the cold, we had just driven two hours with no windows in the car after all; the last hour or so it was pissing down with rain as well soaking us both to the skin. I was fucking freezing as well, but I'd been cold before; many times before in fact, so I just shrugged it off. Something else that I considered irrelevant; as usual I had other priorities.

"You look cold Miss Fitch; we should get you into some dry things."

She looked up at me and it was at that point I knew it wasn't just the cold that she was shaking with; I've seen people look at me with eyes like that before.

The last time she'd looked at me like that, eyes wide and unblinking, I watched a myriad of emotions pass through those big brown eyes. This time I saw nothing in them at all; absolutely fucking nothing, not even fear showed in those eyes, it was as if they were stone dead. Shock and exposure was my diagnosis and I'm not an expert at helping with that; even though I've seen its effects on more than one occasion.

I know shock never hits immediately, I know that it is only when you get to relative safety, and the adrenaline stops pumping that the fear usually hits home. I know all too well how hard that fear can strike you; and how much your mind tries to turn off to block it all out. How it does anything but think about how close you had come to death.

I know because I've been through it myself; I know because I went through it after our vehicle hit an IED on patrol outside Basra. I know all about it because I'd laughed off the fact that I'd survived unscathed; laughed along with the boys about how I had an angel looking over me because of my virtuous lifestyle. I know all about its impact because I'd collapsed in the showers two days later and didn't stop crying for three hours and never really recovered from it; not until Amy came along and gave me a reason to feel good about surviving.

I know all about shock, know all about traumatic stress; the one thing I don't know how to do is help someone else through it. I'm shit at it; I'm shit with other peoples emotions, though for some reason despite my shortcomings in this area I decided to shepherd her into the small bedroom and sit her on the bed.

"Look, let's get you out of these wet things ok?"

The figure in front of me just nodded blankly and sat there staring blankly into space.

"Here, let me help you with that," I said gallantly, and pulled at her shirt tugging it out of the skirt she was wearing. She tried to unbutton the front like a zombie, hands shaking all the while. Eventually I pushed her hands to her sides and unbuttoned her shirt myself; I noticed her staring at me and I smiled into those dead eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't look."

She blinked and nodded sharply as I peeled off her shirt shuffling her body to allow me to slide it down her arms. Despite my promise I couldn't help but sneak a peek as her bra covered breasts were revealed. I mentally slapped myself for doing it but I couldn't help myself. She really is a good looking woman; and I am, after all, only human.

Dragging my eyes from her cleavage and feigning professional disinterest, I picked up a large towel that I'd collected from the bathroom; the apartment's maid service obviously having cleaned up after my hurried shower this morning. I wrapped it carefully around her shoulders; rubbing at her arms and back as she held onto it as if it was a life preserver and she needed to stay afloat.

"Skirt as well Miss Fitch; I'll get them dried for you, don't worry."

She nodded; eyes still fixed on the wall and lifted her backside off the bed to allow me to slip her skirt down her legs. I mentally slapped myself again as I caught myself looking at her legs. They're not exactly long, but they suit her frame perfectly and there's more than a hint of muscle there; 'she works out by the looks of things, she's in pretty good shape.'

I tried to tell myself that it was, even then, only a professional interest. That a client in good shape would be easier to protect if we had to run from danger. I also tried to convince myself that her being in good physical shape would help with the mental issues that she might suffer after the attack, I'd done a lot of exercising after my 'episode' perhaps she'd get solace in the same thing.

Finally, I admitted that I found her attractive, very attractive in fact. Story of my life really; the ones that like me I end up resenting and pushing away, the ones I like just aren't available. Not to me anyway; most of them, like her, thought I was a nutter because I was in the Army.

I stood up and looked at the forlorn shape of Emily Fitch, sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around her to protect her modesty. She was a shadow of her former, uber-bitchy, self. She was clearly in shock and that isn't a good thing for anyone to go through, let alone a civvy.

Most people just don't understand how traumatic it is to nearly lose your life; even less people know what it's like to be shot at. In the CPU I wouldn't say we'd become immune to it, but you do become a bit hardened to it after a while, and the training definitely helps. Everyone deals with the stress in a different way and Emily Fitch looked like she was an 'internaliser'; though I'd thought that in the car park earlier.

There had been a young lad in that served alongside us on the base in Basra that had been like that. He held onto everything and couldn't let it out. At least I'd managed to sob my heart out in that shower, at least I'd been able to let the emotions out somehow, find my own way of releasing the pressure; he kept them bottled up and, eventually, he'd lost it completely. The last I heard was that he'd been shipped home for a full psych-rehab; 'PTSD' stamped on his transfer papers, we'd never heard from him again.

Though however she needs to deal with the stress, I hope that it won't involve me; I hope she's not one of those people that need to be with someone when they get it all out. Gut feeling tells me that's exactly what she is though, that she's waiting for me to comfort her and help her through the pain.

There's actually a part of me that wants to go over and do just that, a part that wants to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything will be ok. But as I normally do, I panic when it comes to dealing with emotional women; and, bottling it completely, I left the room, deciding to implement the military standard cure for everything; I put a wet on.

'You chicken-shit Campbell; you should be in there comforting her and you know it! Not making fucking tea for her.'

As I fumbled around the unfamiliar kitchen area I gave thanks that Lara had reminded me to pick up the essentials like milk, bread and tea and all that when we were shopping yesterday, otherwise I'd have been fucked. I had no plans for tonight more exciting than calling the nearest takeaway and telling them to bring me the biggest fucking pizza they had. I definitely hadn't planned on a house guest, let alone one that was shivering on my bed. Jesus, I'd only spent one day in a fucking house myself; I was struggling to get myself organised let alone deal with someone else.

As the kettle boiled I called JJ and let him know that we were home and safe, if a little shook up. I told him that Miss Fitch had been slightly hurt and wasn't one hundred percent emotionally. Promising that he'd call Cook and they'd be straight over, he hung up leaving me to wait for the kettle to finally boil. At least I felt like I was making myself useful, that was a good thing; it stopped me dwelling on how lost that brunette looked.

It stopped me kicking myself for being a cowardly bastard.

o+o+o

I brought her the hot sweet tea into the bedroom, kicking open the door as I struggled carrying the mug and her stupid fucking wheelie case. She wasn't sat on the bed any more; she was now curled up under the duvet, pulling it tightly around herself. She stared at me when I entered and I assumed from the state of her face that she'd been crying. That was good, perhaps she'd sorted herself out already; got it out of her system.

"Cup of tea?" I asked, putting her cup on a table and dropping her wheelie case to the floor. "Makes everyone feel better a good hot cup of tea does."

I cursed at my forced cheeriness, I sounded like a squaddie from the 1950's not the 2000's. She nodded and smiled weakly at me, that faint pathetic smile, the one that doesn't reach her eyes.

"You ok there?" I asked, again the simple nod, the weak smile. She's not ok, she's nowhere near ok, even I can tell that. As I look down at her I see a tear fall from her eye, then another and before I know it she's collapsed into the pillow; her eyes streaming tears, babbling to herself incoherently. Grasping my courage with both hands I climbed onto the bed and put my hand carefully onto her shoulder.

"You're safe here, you can relax now. I've called the office we'll have people with us within the hour."

To my surprise she sat up in the bed and grabbed me into a hug; tears pouring onto my already soaked shoulder. Almost instantly my body reacted as that soft skin pressed against mine. I could feel the swell of her breasts pushing into me as she gripped me as if life depended upon it and I was overwhelmed by her smell. To be honest she wasn't exactly smelling of roses after out little trip, but I didn't care. She is intoxicating, and my mind decided to go on a little panicked run around the room. Stalling for time, whilst the sensible part of my brain ran around screaming "NO, NO, NO" at the top of its voice, I patted her rather awkwardly on the shoulder in a pathetic attempt to comfort her.

"It's ok," I said, continuing to hold her and pat at her. "You're safe now, it's all ok."

She sobbed even harder and just held onto me. I'm actually surprised at myself; I really don't know how to handle sobbing women. Amy had called me an emotionless cow during one of our better arguments; told me that I'd be a better person if I let myself just feel now and again. I thought that was harsh, I did feel, I just kept it hidden a little. When you'd been through as much as I had you don't run around with your heart on your sleeve; you just don't.

After a while the cries got a little weaker, a positive sign at least. Well at least it had been when I'd sobbed my heart out on that cold ceramic floor, the water pouring over my head diluting my tears. I'd sobbed myself to a standstill and finally, with no more emotions to let out, I'd simply sniffed, washed myself down again and pulled myself together. I hoped that she'd now do the same.

"Feeling better Miss Fitch?"

She ignored me but I took the loud sniff as a good sign and carefully disentangled myself from her.

"I'll leave your tea on the side there. Through that door's the en-suite, there's a shower and stuff in there if you want to get cleaned up."

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and she blinked at me and nodded. At least those eyes didn't look dead anymore, but they did look hurt. She's hurting and there's not a damn thing I can think of that'll make her feel better. Picking up my tea cup and taking a sip I tried to reassure her.

"I'm sure you'll be ok Miss Fitch; I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

"I'm sure I'll be fine now Miss Campbell," she suddenly snapped at me, "You can just fuck off now."

Jesus, 'mood swings-r-us' are back in full effect. On minute she's sobbing on my shoulder, the next the bitch is back. I nodded and gratefully retreated to the living room.

'Not running away, a tactical withdrawal. Besides, she fucking hates you anyway; You're a fucking psycho, remember?'

Busying myself again I made sure that all the doors and windows in the flat were locked, and closed all the windows and blinds. There's no sense attracting attention, or letting anyone that may have followed us to here see what's inside.

Basic security checks done I headed back into the little kitchenette and opened the freezer. I removed the ice tray and cracked out a few chunks; wrapping them in one of the tea-towels that I'd found in a drawer and crushed them by hitting the towel with a meat hammer. Holding the make-shift ice pack to my swollen eye I sat back on the sofa and waited for the cavalry to arrive, ignoring the pain in my chest; the one I didn't know what to do with.

o+o+o

Thirty five minutes later the small living room was filled with people and I was struggling to keep up with them all.

Cook and JJ had arrived first, not long after I had had finally sat down. I must have looked a bit of a mess because they'd looked at me in shock as I opened the door, ice still firmly pressed to my face.

"Jesus Naomi, you're definitely not as good looking as you were yesterday," Cook exclaimed as he regained the ability to speak.

"It's ok boss," I'd said as I closed the door behind them. "You should see the other guy."

"I heard all about him," Cook said with a smile, "two broken ribs and a fractured jaw you gave him. He was going to press charges until Rob Fitch reminded him that he attacked you first and he kept on attacking even though you gave him ample opportunity to stop. Pieter's not a happy camper at the moment, couldn't happen to a nicer boy."

He paused and looked me up and down before continuing in his soft drawl. "Anyway; fuck him, he's irrelevant; how are you doing? Are you ok Naomi?"

"I'm fine boss, bit cut and bruised but no major wounds, the package is fine as well, just a bit shook up. She's resting in the bedroom now, she's had a bit of a cry but I think she'll be ok."

"That's great news Naomi, glad you both made it through ok, from what JJ told me it was pretty fucked up. We called Rob before we left, told him his daughter was safe." He looked at me with a wry grin.

"I think Rob likes you Blondie, he keeps on singing your praises to me; you managed to impress him more in one meeting than I've done in months. Not to mention this little escapade, he was practically nominating you for sainthood ten minutes ago. Good job doesn't cover it Naomi, fucking hell, great job doesn't either. It was my lucky day when JJ bumped into you and brought you aboard."

"Say that when you see the state of that nice new company car boss," I said with a smile. He laughed back at me.

"We saw it when we arrived Naomi; looks like you had yourself your own little war. Did they not teach you how to drive properly in the Military Police?"

"They did teach me to drive boss, and it was just as fucking well they did. That's the only reason that we're still alive; well that and the fact that the bad guys were idiots."

He raised an eyebrow at that and gestured for me to sit down. "Come on Naomi, spill; tell your Uncle James what happened?"

I chuckled at the glint in his eye, 'well at least he's not annoyed that I've been in the job for one day and I've already trashed the bloody car they gave me.'

o+o+o

I spent the next fifteen minutes with the pair of them debriefing the events of the day. I told them about the meeting, about the note from Khuddam ul-Islam that Rob Fitch had shown me; the white van, the chase and our eventual escape.

We were interrupted about half way through by a knock at the door. It turned out that JJ had called a private doctor that CP use before leaving Head Office; and she had arrived as fast as she could. I showed her to the bedroom where Miss Fitch was sat on the bed; now fully clothed in a different outfit, blue sweat pants and a white vest top I noted absently. Her hair was soaking wet, she'd obviously taken advantage of the shower and got changed during my absence. I wondered for a second where she'd got the clothes from, then kicked myself as I spotted that fucking giant wheelie case open at her feet.

I introduced the Doctor and withdrew again, leaving them to it. Last thing I was capable of being was a fucking nursemaid, least of all to Emily fucking Fitch, an Emily Fitch that was busily telling the doctor that there was nothing wrong with her, the bitch in full voice.

"Oh and Doctor," I said from the doorway before I left, "in case Miss Fitch neglects to tell you, she has a badly injured wrist and she's almost certainly suffering from shock."

The doctor nodded as Miss Fitch stared at me with that familiar anger in her eyes, I simply smiled back.

"Sorry Miss Fitch, but it's my job to keep you safe, and that includes your health."

Duty done I headed back to the living room.

o+o+o

After we finished our debriefing JJ looked across at Cook, concern painted on his face.

"We're going to have to inform the authorities properly now, they know what was happening on the motorway, but they'll want to interview Naomi and probably Emily as well. This is serious James, trying to shoot up a car on a motorway. Well the last time that was done was that biker gang; that was on the M4 as well; I seem to recall that..."

"Yeah, we do JJ," Cook answered, cutting him off in mid flow. "We also need to make sure we have lawyers on hand to cover our asses. This could turn real ugly real quick if we're not careful. Naomi, when they arrive I want you to cooperate with them in every way, ok?"

I nodded and stood up, "look if you two don't mind holding down the fort, I desperately need a shower and a change of clothes before we have any more visitors. Driving in pouring rain without any windows isn't what I call fun you know?"

They nodded and returned to their talking, JJ reaching for his phone. I left the living area and walked into the main bathroom, dumping my clothes as soon as the door was shut. Being cold, wet through and stinking wasn't something unfamiliar to me after the months on the streets; it doesn't mean I enjoy it though.

o+o+o

The hot water felt good as it pounded down on my skin and I took the opportunity to try out a lot of the toiletries that Lara had told me I'd find 'essential'. She'd practically bought out the Body Shop on our visit and this evening I was very glad she had.

The only problem was I had a lot of cuts and bruises from the day's exploits; I had a lot of little gashes where glass had found its way into my clothes and scraped or cut my skin. Some of those cleaning products really fucking hurt when you get them into open wounds; I mean really fucking hurt. Pink grapefruit shower gel cleanser sounded like a good idea last night, felt pretty good this morning actually. Right now I wish I'd just settled for plain and boring fucking soap.

I struggled through the astringent twinges, after all I'm a big brave girl and I'd survived far worse, and ten minutes later I felt human again. The hot water has started to bring out some of the bruises and my body now aches like a bastard; the result, no doubt, of being out of condition. Unfortunately this only got worse as I towelled myself dry. My skin felt like it had been through a sand blasting, and after four combat tours in the desert I knew what that felt like.

Realising I only had my dirty clothes in the bathroom I wrapped myself in a clean white towel and headed into the living area. JJ was bumbling around in the kitchenette making some tea and I was surprised to see Miss Fitch on the sofa with Cook, his arm around her shoulders. They all looked at me as I walked in and their eyes widened as they saw how I was dressed; wrapped only in that small towel.

"What? Not seen someone in a towel before?" I asked incredulously, "Seriously LT, you've seen me in less than this before."

Cook looked at JJ in astonishment, to my surprise, Miss Fitch did the same.

'Aw, didn't know you cared.'

"Er, Um…it's not what you think," JJ said quickly. "We all went...well...in Basra we got access to a swimming pool and we all went swimming. That's what Sergeant Campbell means."

Cook looked at me in interest, "Skinny dipping Blondie, sounds like fun; shame I didn't get an invite."

JJ blushed and I just laughed at Cook's cheeky wink. "Not skinny dipping boss, but we didn't have any costumes. Let's just say that you don't swim in fatigues and body armour yeah?"

"Nice one Blondie, bet you looked proper good in lingerie eh JJ?"

I didn't think it was possible but JJ blushed even redder, seriously if he blushed any harder he'd explode.

"I don't think a military issue pair of shorts and a bra count as lingerie boss," I said to spare JJ his embarrassment. "I didn't exactly go into combat in a black lace bra and a thong you know."

"Really?" Cook replied as JJ and Miss Fitch looked at me. JJ with gratitude, Miss Fitch with, well, what looked like curiosity.

"Well I have to tell you Blondie that I never went into combat without wearing a black lace bra and a thong."

The room collapsed around me, well Cook and JJ collapsed; Cook laughed exactly as I expected him to; JJ, as I remembered, as if someone had told him the world's funniest joke. He made me laugh did JJ, he had done when we served together. He was stiff, formal and breathtakingly naive when he first joined the CPU, Langdon and I had sorted that out pretty quickly and he learned to relax. We'd had a few good times in the heat of Iraq, yet I'd only heard him laugh like this once, maybe twice. There wasn't much to laugh about out there.

Still he obviously shared some amusing secret with Cook because he's still laughing and he looks marginally embarrassed as I stared at him; I must remember to find out about it later, as they're both totally ignoring my look of polite questioning at the moment. I chanced a look at Miss Fitch, she's sat next to Cook looking like a fish out of water; at least there's a bit of colour in her cheeks, which is more than there was before.

"Feeling better?" I threw the question in her direction, seeing if she had calmed down since her last tantrum. She didn't look at me, looked anywhere in the room but at me in fact.

"I'm fine; James has been looking after me."

"And a real pleasure it is to do so too Emily, "Cook replied cheerily squeezing her shoulders, "though you should head into the bedroom Blondie, Doctor Evans is waiting for you."

I just looked at him blankly. "Dr Evans? Tall lady, dark hair? You let her in not that long ago. Obviously she's finished with Emily here and I want you to see her, make sure you're ok."

I snorted in disgust, Doctors are not my favourite people in the world, Doctors had cost me my career, my life, everything really.

"I'm fine boss, nothing wrong with me see? All arms and legs still attached bodily functions A-Ok."

I waved my arms in the air, nearly losing the towel completely; giving the room a sight of my body that was slightly more than decorum would usually suggest appropriate. I grabbed at the falling towel as I spoke and wrapped myself up again. I'm not concerned with a bit of nudity; I'm neither ashamed of my body nor proud of it, you don't get a lot of privacy in a combat zone and after a while you just become blasé to the fact that you're partially unclothed when people walk in on you. Judging by the way Miss Fitch has her eyes screwed shut I guess she's not wired the same way. Cook and JJ just ignored it, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Blondie I'm not asking you if you're ok, I'm telling you to get in there and get checked out; you've got a nasty black eye coming up and there's a lot of cuts and bruises that I can see on you that look painful. I'm not having my newest member of staff go off sick because they've got an infected wound. Now hop-it Sergeant, go and get treated, that's an order."

I thought for a second about telling him to fuck off, but then I realised that he's just trying to look after me in his own way; like a Sergeant with his new troops. Sketching a sarcastic salute at his 'order' I wandered towards the bedroom and the medical ordeal I knew was coming. I had barely put my hand on the door when his voice rang out again.

"Oh and Blondie, put some clothes on, the police will be here soon and I assume you don't want to treat them to the view you've just treated us to."

I flipped him off, over my shoulder, and headed into the bedroom to the sound of his laughter.

o+o+o

Twenty minutes later I had told the doctor to "fuck right off." She'd given me a clean bill of health and had cleaned out all the little wounds I had with a bottle of antiseptic and a pair of tweezers. To my surprise she'd managed to pull out about seven little pieces of glass that had been embedded in my wounds, which was good. However when the silly cow had brought out a roll of gauze tape and told me she was going to patch me up; well that was enough. There was no way I was going to be covered with little bits of sticking plaster for some small fucking grazes; so I threw her out and dragged out some clothes from the small set of drawers where I'd put my recently purchased gear.

I was halfway through getting ready when there was a tentative knock at the door.

"Yeah, come in," I practically sighed, pulling on a t-shirt over my partly brushed hair; honestly what did I have to do to get some peace around here? I looked in the mirror and saw the face of Emily Fitch appear around the door. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, just for a second and I was once again captivated by them. Even now, looking battered and broken she's a very pretty girl, rather beautiful in fact. Pity she hates me, pity she's straight, even more of a pity she's about several hundred divisions out of my league.

"James asked me to let you know the police have arrived," she said looking down at her feet. "They want to speak to you."

I nodded and stood up, dragging the brush through what remained of Franco's creation. "Thank you Miss Fitch, tell them I'll be there in a minute."

o+o+o

An hour later and the situation was FUBAR; firstly the coppers from the Metropolitan Police that had arrived were trying to tell me that I had fled the scene of a crime. They were actually trying to arrest me, and impound the X3, until Cook got the company lawyers on the phone and they started making calls.

The next thing I know is that it's twenty past seven in the evening and there are two assholes from the Anti-Terrorist squad giving me a hard time. I'd spent ages going over the information, answering their questions. They covered and re-covered everything, before leaving me alone and starting their questioning of Miss Fitch. After establishing that she'd not seen a lot from her position on the back seat and getting her to explain what she could tell them they'd turned their attention back to me.

It started off friendly enough, but after less than five minutes of being asked the same fucking questions the accusations started flowing.

"Miss Campbell why did you decide to flee the scene?"

I looked across at Cook who nodded at me, we'd promised to cooperate but there was no way I was getting burnt for saving our lives.

"I was being shot at, isn't that a good enough reason?"

"You've been shot at before, in the Army that is, so why did you run this time?"

Everyone in the room looked across at the younger of the two men, including his partner who looked just a little disgusted with him.

"Well haven't you?" he continued, attempting to rescue some of his dignity; at least he appeared to have done his homework on me.

"Yes I have; but back then I was usually in an armoured vehicle and oddly enough I had the ability to shoot back. Makes hanging around a hell of a lot easier when you can defend yourself."

'Fucking muppet'

"Besides," I continued trying to cooperate, "even in the Army, SOP is to FIDO and make sure the package is safe."

"Excuse me, FIDO?" asked the older copper, "and what do you mean by 'the package' Miss Campbell?"

I sighed at his ignorance and rubbed my eyes, it had been a long fucking day and I was sick, sore, starving and tired. Thankfully JJ came to my rescue.

"FIDO is a Military term; we used it a lot in the Close Protection Unit. It was our standard procedure when we came under fire. It means, well, I'm sorry but it means 'fuck it, drive on.' You see the safety of the package, that's the VIP you're protecting, takes precedence over all things. I'm afraid to say even the lives of you and your comrades."

He took a deep breath, "I'm afraid I have to tell you Detective, everything Sergea, er…Miss Campbell did was based on her training and her desire to ensure Miss Fitch was kept safe. Making sure you've evaded the enemy and then heading for a safe location is our primary concern and that is exactly what she did. Her behaviour as far as our company is concerned was exemplary."

"I'm not convinced about that very point Mr Jones. Despite this alleged attack Miss Campbell did flee the scene of a crime and that is a very serious offence; whether as you claim she was fleeing for her life or not."

"That's as maybe gentlemen," Cook interrupted, his voice calm and low. "But I assure you my lawyers will make life very difficult for you if you want to continue to threaten my employee because of her desire to keep Miss Fitch alive in the face of armed attackers. We made a business decision to get Miss Fitch to a place of safety, and we had already informed the authorities of what was happening. I think, gentlemen, that people may well be asking your department how an attack like this happened on an English motorway, in broad daylight..."

He paused for a second and glared at them, "...especially as it appears that Mr Fitch reported the threats against his family to you six months ago."

Well I didn't know that; and neither, by the look of surprise on her face, did Miss Fitch. I guess I understand now why Cook was desperate to get a new contract with Rob Fitch; six months of threats meant someone was getting six months of work out of the Fitch's and that might as well be us.

"We know all about the alleged threats that Mr Fitch has received. They have been thoroughly investigated and…"

"Doesn't explain why one of my staff was shot at on one of your roads though does it?" Cook interrupted him again, a hint of anger and frustration creeping into that usually soft, melodic accent. He caught a look from JJ and took a breath.

"Look, I suggest you call it a day. Miss Fitch and Miss Campbell both are exhausted and the advice of the Doctor that has just left was rest, not an interrogation that seems only to want to implicate Miss Campbell in something other than saving her own and Miss Fitch's life."

"Mr Cook we have an investigation to run, please don't impede us in our duties or we could make life very difficult for you."

The youngster again, this time he got a glare and a shake of the head from his partner

"Impede you? We've been nothing but helpful both with you and your colleagues from the Met. Miss Fitch and Miss Campbell have been extremely cooperative and my company will share all of our recordings etc with you on request. I don't think we're going to achieve any more by threatening each other gentlemen. If you want to talk to any of my staff you'll do so with our company lawyers present. I assume Miss Fitch will want to have her own lawyer present if you need to question her again."

"But..."

"I think that's everything we have to say, now I think you gentlemen should leave and let these ladies get the rest their doctor ordered."

The elder of the two officers nodded at his colleague and less than an hour after they had arrived they had gone, finally thanking us for our cooperation.

"I cannot believe they actually tried to threaten us." JJ had said as I closed the door, "That was totally out of order given the circumstances."

"They're just trying to cover their butts," Cook replied seriously, "They know they're going to get rolled for this when it gets into the media and they're looking for a diversion. I think that's the last we'll hear of them though, Amber will deal with the legal's from now on."

He picked up his phone from the table and stood up from his seat. "If you ladies would excuse me I have a couple of calls to make. I guess you'll both be tired and hungry; JJ why don't you give somewhere a call and get these ladies something to eat."

"I should be getting home; I've got an important meeting in the morning. I need to prepare for it. I can't stay here tonight, this is too important."

I looked across at Miss Fitch, I think that's the most I've heard her say all evening.

"I don't think that's a good plan at the moment Miss Fitch," JJ told her.

"JJ's right, not a chance Emily, we are not letting you out of our sight until we get to hand you over to someone your Father trusts. Blondie over there accepted responsibility for you back in Bath and we take that role very seriously."

'Fucks sake, it looks like I'm stuck with her.'

Cook winked at me again and vanished outside onto the small balcony. I watched briefly as he lit a cigar and spoke animatedly into his phone before I settled back into my seat and relaxed.

"So ladies, what is it to be?" JJ asked flourishing a handful of leaflets in our direction, "Pizza, Chinese, curry, Thai, Turkish? Though I question the authenticity of what we call kebabs here in the UK but..."

"Anything JJ, I haven't eaten all fucking day and I'm starving." I looked across at the brunette who was sat on the sofa. "Miss Fitch, you're the guest, you decide."

"Chinese." She said sullenly looking across at JJ. He passed over a menu from the pile and she glanced through it before passing it to me. I gave JJ my order and excused myself, headed for the bedroom and some peace and quiet. As I sat on the edge of the bed, dabbing a wet towel at my swollen eye I heard the door open and looked over to see Emily Fitch stood framed in the doorway.

"Miss Campbell, I just wanted to..."

"BLONDIE!" the loud voice of a happy sounding James Cook reverberated around the flat, "have you got a minute?"

I closed my eyes in despair, one moment of peace I had been looking forward to and in the blink of an eye Cook had disturbed it. When I opened them again and looked up the doorway was empty; whatever she "wanted to" was lost to history. Taking one deep breath I strode back outside to see Cook stood there with a grin on his face.

"Naomi," he said as he saw me. "I've just been speaking to Rob Fitch; he asked if you would provide a close protection escort for Emily here during the negotiations she's undertaking tomorrow. I've told him you'd be happy to do so."

'Great another day with the moody-bitch'

"Emily I have a message to you from him as well. He says, 'remember our parting conversation today, the same applies now.' I assume you understand that, he was a bit cryptic I'm afraid."

She nodded and slumped down on the sofa, Cook looked over at me and I shrugged in response. I knew what he meant, I shouldn't, but my eavesdropping had served me again.

"This time I'm putting my foot down," he had said to her; "you will have an escort back to London. I can't risk you or this contract, do you understand?"

She had backed down when he said that to her then, and it looked like she had backed down now. I could tell that she wasn't happy about it; every aspect of her body language screamed 'pissed off;' I doubted Cooks next line would have cheered her up either.

"Emily, Rob's asked if Naomi would mind putting you up for the night and escorting you to the office in the morning. He's going to send a car for you both first thing so you can call by your flat to get any bits you need for the meeting. I'll arrange for one of my team to check it out and make sure it's safe before you arrive."

"I'll do it," JJ said nodding enthusiastically, "if that's ok with you Emily?"

She nodded again, totally crestfallen, and dug into her pocket for a set of keys which she threw over to JJ. She looked as if she'd just been sentenced to death, her eyes bleak. Cook totally failed to notice this in his excitement and looked across at me smiling his cheesiest grin.

"Blondie, Rob's also told me he'll have to rescind your invitation to his party on Friday, he's asked me to ensure that you're there in a professional capacity instead, looking after Emily here; of course I said you would."

As I stood there and stared at Cook in astonishment I could feel her eyes boring into me. I turned slowly to look at her and met the big brown eyes that had until recently been staring at the floor. Now she was simply glaring at me; the look of contempt and disgust back in her eyes. The same look she gave me when first we'd met earlier that morning.

'Fucking great Cook, what have you got me into now?'

.

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A/N – So there you go, time for a calm down and a bit of character interaction…don't seem exactly well matched do they? Ah well, perhaps things will change in time (-:

Sorry it's been a bit later than usual...had a PC to rebuild, bloody virus writers!