ONE OF THOSE DAYS
Title: ONE OF THOSE DAYS
Author: devisun
Rating: G-PG13 (due to possible language)
Summary: Did you ever wonder why Nigel didn't question the dead bodies getting up and talking to him in the crypt in the episode "As If By Fate"? Here is one possible explanation.
Disclaimer: Nigel Townsend, other characters and the World of Crossing Jordan are not mine. This is only an exercise writing for my own entertainment.
ONE OF THOSE DAYSGroggily, Nigel reached over and turned off the alarm next to his bed. Warm and content under the covers, he really hated to move but knew he had to work and needed to start his day. So slowly he turned over, seeing the woman laying beside him, still and glassy eyed. She would have been beautiful had it not been for the gaping wound in her scalp
"Morning." He murmured as he sat up slowly, noticing the others standing and sitting around the bed. "Hope you all had a pleasant evening." His words were sarcastic as he padded barefoot to the bathroom. Upon seeing a young man in a leather jacket leaning against the shower stall, bleeding from an open wound in his abdomen, he added. "Do you mind? I'd like to shower alone this morning." As an answer, the younger man nodded and made his way out of the bathroom, seemingly to join the others in the bedroom. "It's going to be one of those days, I just know it." Nigel growled as he began his morning ritual.
Later, showered, shaved and fully dressed, Nigel sat at the small table, looking over the morning paper, drinking a cup of coffee. He tried his best to ignore the people walking behind him, looking over his shoulders and trying to get him to hurry and turn to the next section of the news.
"You really aught to have a proper breakfast you know." The older woman sitting next to him said with a motherly smile. "Surely you're not going to start your day with just coffee."
"Thank you for your concern, but that's exactly what I am going to do." Nigel sighed deeply as he brought the cup to his lips.
"You really should take care of yourself better."
"Look," he snapped. "If I wanted advice from my mother I would…"
"I can get her you know." The woman was smug. "She's just a call…"
"No, don't bother." He shook his head in irritation. "I'll grab something on the way to work."
"That's better." The woman smiled sweetly as she got up and began mingling with the others in the room.
"Bloody busybody." He grumbled as he stood and placed his cup in the sink. He looked around at the seemingly growing crowd and cleared his voice rather loudly. "All right everyone listen up." He began gather up his things. "Same rules as always. No one is allowed to follow me to work, or bother me once I get there. Is that understood?" There were murmurs of understanding. "Good." He reached out and frowned. "All right, which one of you joker's have my keys?" There was no answer. "Look, if any of you want me to help you when I get home, those keys better…" Looking down he saw the key ring sitting on the table. "Thank you." He picked them up and began walking to the door.
"You're not going out looking like that, are you?" The old woman was back. "You're much too handsome to look like a…"
"I'm going to work now." His words were extremely strained as he reached for the doorknob. "It would be nice if some of you would go and haunt someone else by the time I get back home." He opened the door. "It's getting way to crowded in here."
As he closed the door, several people looked at each other, shrugged then faded from view.
End.