Pairing: Jo Masters/Sam Nixon
Spoilers: Episode 375 (Christmas episode)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, the characters don't belong to me, nor does the title (it's the property of Bob Dylan). No infringement intended.
A/N: Fem slash ahead; avert your eyes if it's not your thing.
Tangled Up In Blue
Jo turned her desk lamp on and sat down. She looked about the deserted office and suddenly felt very alone. She sighed. This was not how she imagined spending Boxing Day but she and Tess had got into another fight.
This time it had ended with Tess throwing a plate of brussel sprouts at her; the plate had missed her by inches and smashed against the kitchen wall. Jo tried to lighten the mood with humour but Tess was beyond that – she was crying and yelling and when she reached for the Christmas pudding, Jo took flight.
Master's had returned to the office because she couldn't think of anywhere else to go. It was cold, so she kept her jacket on. Her gaze fell on the 'two for the price of one' bottles of wine Phil had generously given her and she smiled – if she was going to be denied Christmas dinner and a warm bed then she was bloody well going to get hammered and blot this awful day out!
She fetches a coffee cup and returns to her desk. She unscrews the lid of one of the wine bottles – a screw top, not exactly a sign of a high quality wine, but it's better than nothing, so she fills her cup and sips it.
She winces at the taste. "Not bad!" she mocks.
"What isn't?" comes a voice from the door.
Startled, Jo looks across the room to see Sam Nixon standing there.
"The cheap wine that Phil bought me." Jo replies. She eyes the petite blonde, then says. "What brings you here at this time of night? On Boxing Day no less?"
"I could ask you the same question," Nixon replies defensively.
"Well, I had a domestic with the old ball-and-chain," explains Jo.
Sam smiles, her guard dropping. "I had a row with Abbey, then decided to catch-up on some paperwork - give her some space to clear her head."
Jo leans forward in her seat. "Uh, correct me if I'm wrong but you're the parent – if she's in a strop, shouldn't it be her leaving to give you some space?"
Sam steps into the office, the door swinging shut behind her. "I can tell you don't have kids!" she retorts.
Jo leans back in her seat, unsure whether to be offended. Then decides that she's wasted too much time being hostile to Sam Nixon in the past and, after all, it is the season to be jolly, so she opts for goodwill instead.
"Do you want a glass of wine?" Jo offers.
Sam looks steadily at Jo, regretting that she'd been so snappish – it wasn't Jo's fault that Abbey was being a pain-in-the-arse. "Why not? It's gotta be better than paper work."
"Uh, don't get your hopes up – it's not that good! It has a biting aftertaste!"
Nixon pulls up a chair beside Jo's desk while Masters stands and fetches another coffee cup. Jo retakes her seat and fills Sam's mug to the top. They grin at each other and raise their cups in the air.
"To dysfunctional families," Sam toasts.
They clink coffee cups and drink.
"Ugh!" Sam pulls a face and shakes her head to dispel the vial taste.
Jo laughs at the blonde's reaction. "I did warn you!"
Sam looks into Jo's eye's, shining with amusement, and holds out her cup for a top-up. Impressed at Sam's determination, Jo refill's the blonde's cup and then her own. They both sip more slowly this time.
There's a long silence.
Jo, who never runs out of things to say, suddenly can't think of anything to say. She doesn't have much in common with Nixon apart from their both being workaholics… aside from that, outside of cases, they never talk much.
"It's freezing in here," Sam mutters.
Jo nods, hoping that this wouldn't lead into a conversation about the weather they'd been having lately. She'd had her fill of weather talk with Tess's relatives earlier today. She can't face it again so she decides to steer the conversation. "So what was your fight with Abbey about?"
Sam visible tenses, she grips the handle of the coffee cup tighter, her knuckles white from the strain.
Jo takes a sip of wine and wishes she'd gone with the 'Yes it is freezing in here - it's terrible weather we're having lately, isn't it?' instead.
"It was about the baby," Sam confesses. "We were making plans for what would happen when it arrives… and uh, we disagreed about some things, which lead to a blazing row."
Taken back by Sam's candour, Jo felt a wave of compassion towards her… after all, she had been through so much with Abbey - Jo didn't know all the details but she'd heard more than enough through the office gossip grapevine.
"I'm sure you'll work it out. Like you said, she just needs some head space - she'll come round in the end," Jo says confidently, trying to reassure her.
"But what if she doesn't? She has no idea what it's like to raise a child – she has all these illusions of what it will be like when the baby's born. I'll be there to support her, of course I will – but I can't raise the baby for her… and I don't want to spoil her excitement about it all, but I want her to be prepared, to be ready for the realities that motherhood entails. But she thinks I'm trying to run her life, telling her what to do, ignoring what she wants… but I'm not – I'm just trying to protect her."
A few tears stream down Sams cheek. She looks so vulnerable, so afraid, that Jo is moved and reaches out, covering Sam's hand with hers. "Abbey will know that soon enough. When she holds that baby in her arms for the first time she'll understand what you feel for her, she'll see that you were just trying to do what was best."
Drawing her hand away from Jo's, Sam wipes away her tears, suddenly feeling embarrassed by her lack of restraint. She sniffs and searches her pockets for a tissue but can't find one.
Jo pulls a tissue from her jacket pocket and holds it out to Nixon.
Sam smiles gratefully. "Thanks," she says as she dabs her eyes dry and blows her nose.
"Any time," Jo replies. This was definitely not the Boxing Day she was expecting.
Sam takes a steadying breath and leans back in her chair. She gazes at Jo for a moment, then says. "What did you and Tess fight about?"
Jo meets Sam's eyes. "We argued about a goose," she replies solemnly.
Sam laughs, then covers her mouth. "Sorry," she apologises.
Jo smiles. "It's alright – it was a daft fight!"
"How did it start?" Sam asks, intrigued.
"Well, after promising Tess that I was all hers on Christmas day, that work wouldn't interfere - I got called out and spent the day in a grotty, cold, rat-infested, damp building on a surveillance assignment with Phil – and, to top it off, I was shot at… It was gone midnight by the time I got home and I was knackered, so we decided to celebrate Christmas Day on Boxing Day instead… Today Tess reheated the Goose and veg, and as we sat down to eat, I started to reminisce about past Christmases at home and mentioned that Mum always cooked chicken for Christmas dinner, as a tradition - next thing I know, brussel sprouts are whizzing past my head and she's yelling 'Well I cooked goose! I can't get anything right, can I? I slaved all day cooking and you go cavorting off - that place always comes first, I'm sick of it!' When she picked up the Christmas pudding and aimed it in my direction, I left."
Sam gave her buxom colleague a sympathetic look. "I know that tune, sounds like the fights I've had with several boyfriends right before the relationship ended."
Jo peers into her cup. "Sometimes it's such hard work, you know? It makes me think that I should either become celibate or find someone in the same line of business - someone who understands the demands of the job."
Sam nods in accordance, then notices her cup is empty, she reaches across the desk for the bottle of wine and accidentally knocks it onto the floor, the lid is loose and the wine spills out.
"Oh! Sorry!" Sam apologises, then seeing the anxious expression on Jo's face, she adds. "I'll buy you a replacement bottle."
"I'm not worried about that – I'm worried about the carpet, that wine might dissolve it!" Jo jokes.
Sam grins.
Jo pulls more tissue from her jacket pocket and crouches on the floor to mop up the spillage. Instantly, Sam gets out of her seat and crouches on the floor beside her, she tries to take the tissue from Jo's hand, saying; "Let me do that! It was my fault!"
"It's alright – I don't mind, really!" Jo insists.
They grapple over the tissue and in the struggle, end up holding hands. They both become still, neither let go. Sam's breathing becomes shallow and Jo can feel her heart thundering in her chest.
Several moments pass, their fingers stay entwined and then Sam releases Jo's hand. Instinctively, Nixon reaches for the other woman, pulling her closer. Their bodies press together, Jo wraps her arms around Sam's waist and their lips impact amid passion.
Overwhelmed by the heat of Jo's body against hers and the unexpected raw desire she feels, Sam pulls away abruptly.
They stare blankly at each other, unsure quite what has just happened.
Sam gets to her feet and takes a step back. "I'd uh, better get going… Abbey will be wondering where I am," she mumbles, then turns and makes a quick exit.
Jo stares after her, still reeling.