Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me and I make no money with it.

Summary: Coming home.

Date: Jan. 4th - late afternoon (Timeline: http :/ shiruy. livejournal. com/ 3602. html)

Edited: 22.12.10

25. Trouble Lurking

He stared at the door, feeling oddly reluctant to ring the bell. Somewhere on the other side was Jack, probably sick with worry and exhaustion. She'd be so happy to see him again. And the thought of getting back home had been the only thing keeping him going a lot of the time this last week. It was rather irrational that he was hesitating now.

He placed his finger on the doorbell but didn't press it yet.

Until early this morning he had been at Yassen's flat, or safe house, or whatever one wanted to call it. As always, it was bewildering to think that the week of constantly being hunted and staying on guard was finally over. It felt too good to be true, as if he'd wake up any moment and find himself having to run again.

He bit his lip and rang the bell.

For a few seconds there was silence, then he heard footsteps rushing towards the door and a moment later it was thrown wide open. Jack stared at him, a mixture of joy and disbelief on her face. He smiled awkwardly. "Hey."

"Alex!" she shrieked. "Oh my god, Alex!"

He couldn't even think up an answer for that before she had thrown her arms around his neck, clinging tightly. He grimaced as one of her hands pressed onto his shoulder but hugged her back just as hard. He felt nearly sick with relief to finally be home.

"Jack," he murmured, resting his head against her shoulder.

"God, Alex, do you have any idea how worried I was?" she babbled into his ear. "I'm so, so happy that you're alright! Where were you? Why didn't you call? When MI6 said they had lost contact with you..." She sniffled a little and pressed him closer.

Alex closed his eyes, heavy guilt settling into his stomach. Jack really was wonderful. She didn't deserve the shit he put her through. "I'm sorry, Jack, I..."

"Oh, whatever!" she interrupted. "Let's get you inside before we give the neighbours even more of a show."

He smiled and let her drag him inside and into the kitchen, where he dropped his bag and sat down at the counter.

"And what you look like!" she exclaimed once she saw him in the light. She went for the first aid cupboard right away. "Where are you hurt? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He grinned, cheered by the simple familiarity of her worry. "No, it's fine. We can take care of it at home."

"Hmm, if you say so." She frowned at the bruise on his cheek, then suddenly seemed to stop short. "Now where the hell were you? They said they lost you somewhere in Germany and then they refused to tell me anything more but they just keep calling every other hour and it's driving me crazy! How did you get back to London?"

He frowned in dismay. "They keep calling?"

She waved him off. "They just want to know if you've contacted me or anything. But that doesn't matter right now, more important is that you're okay. What happened?"

He chuckled wryly and closed his eyes, letting her warm hands rub some kind of salve onto his face. "I'm fine, Jack, really. I found my partner dead and made a run for it. It just took me a couple of days to get home because I was trying to keep a low profile and had a bit of a fever," he explained, carefully editing out more than half... well, three fourths of the story.

"You had a fever?" Her hand was placed on his forehead. "You still do! What are you even doing up?" She gestured towards the stairs. "Shoo, up, get into bed. I'll bring you something to eat and drink and then-"

The phone rang.

"Oh, for god's sake," Jack rolled her eyes. "It's them again. Just ignore it."

He stood up and shook his head, biting his lip. "Maybe, uhm... I think I'd better take the call."

She looked both worried and resigned. "Okay, fine. Talk to them and tell them you're here, but then it's straight to bed with you, mister."

He fingered the keycard in his pocket and nodded, knowing that he couldn't promise that and wanting to anyway. "Yeah. Okay."