An early Christmas gift for A for Antechinus for your constant and constructive reviews :) My muse enjoys your feedback greatly! Happy Holidays, hope it brings you everything you could wish for. Same goes for all readers of this story. I have a few more chapters already written so I'm hopeful that for the next little while at least, I'll be able to manage to update fairly regularly once I've edited them etc. If I get sufficient interest, I might even post Chapter 25 on December 25th! (hint hint, ;) lol)
I know we're all blah blah blah but just so I don't get sued for the 1p and few pebbles in my purse, here comes the disclaimer: I don't own the characters from The Bill, that honour belongs to Talkback Thames and Freemantle Media. But since they've grown out of playing with these particular toys, I'm just borrowing them for a little fun, a little exercise and absolutely no profit whatsoever!
Boring stuff done, on with the story. Read on & please, please make my Christmas by dropping me a review to tell me what you think :)
"Jo, baby, wake up. It's ok, Jo, you're ok, it's ok, I'm here." Lucy stroked her hand across her lover's face tenderly, wiping away the sweat and tears resulting from the nightmare which was currently gripping her. The woman's skin was flushed and her breathing shallow, an unusual heat emanating from her which Lucy was not convinced was entirely down to the warmth of the hospital. The slender brunette wished that she didn't have to wear the protective clothing – the face mask, the disposable apron, the vinyl gloves – whilst in with Jo but realised that it was necessity to cut down the risk of infection. She was four days in to her first cycle of chemotherapy and her immune system was already weakened by the powerful concoction of drugs flooding her body. Jo's eyes opened groggily, her hands reaching out blindly to grip the young woman needing something tangible to convince herself she was not hallucinating. "I'm here sweetheart, I'm here. It's ok, you're going to be ok." Lucy watched the colour drain from her lover's face and reached for a nearby vomit bowl in what had become a well practiced move. She held the bowl while Jo retched and gagged, losing the meagre contents of her already depleted stomach, rubbing one hand in soothing circles at the top of her back before wiping around her mouth with a clean tissue.
"How sexy is this?" Jo wearily quipped, her voice raspy from the repeated vomiting.
"Oh definitely in my top ten list of all things sexy," Lucy replied with a wink, knowing her cheeky grin would be evident through her eyes even as Jo was unable to see her mouth. "Only one more day to go and then they'll give you a break," Lucy assured her lover sympathetically.
"A break from pumping me full of poison but it'll still be a while before I get to come home. I miss you so much at night. That's when my brain kicks in and starts to imagine all the things you could and should be doing, all the things I'm holding you back from and preventing you from doing." A single tear escaped Jo's eye and trickled down her skin. She wished that she could pull the younger woman on to the bed to just lie with her but knew that the nurses would go ballistic if they found them in bed together. They took infection control very seriously on the ward and she understood the necessity of it, having had it explained quite clearly that a simple viral infection or common cold could be fatal for many of the patients, herself included, due to the necessary destruction of their immune systems. That knowledge however did not prevent her from yearning to feel the press of another body against her providing her with the physical comfort she so craved. Just something as simple as a hug would suffice, being held in someone's arms. Realistically, she knew that the radiotherapy she was receiving effectively banished any hope of that since her skin was too sensitive to anything but the lightest of touches.
"I miss you too honey, so much, but once this cycle is out of the way and you've had your next set of tests, they'll have a better idea if the treatment is working and how to proceed. Then you'll be able to come home and hopefully, they say, receive treatment as an outpatient. You're doing so well getting through this, you have no idea how proud I am of you. One more day of treatment and then you can take a break for a couple of days." Jo had become increasingly grateful to Lucy's daily visits and her unending capacity to coax, cajole and encourage Jo to get through each session. Between her and Saira, with whom Jo had formed an easy friendship, the brunette discovered an inner strength she never knew she possessed and was focused firmly on doing whatever it took to get better. She listened intently to the doctor's advice, she took her treatment with the minimum of grumbling and she always at least tried to eat something at each meal when it was presented to her, no matter how nauseous or how soon she knew it would come back. It had been explained to Jo that following the positive news brought from histology after her surgery, they had opted to begin her treatment more aggressively than originally planned in the hopes that they could reduce the overall number of chemotherapy cycles she needed to just three. Her first cycle would consist of daily treatments for the first five days, then a three day break followed by another five daily treatments before a further three day break and a final three daily treatments. Then she would be treatment free for four weeks depending on the results of biopsies to be taken after her last treatment of the cycle. Those were four weeks that she was focusing on reaching, like a dying man in a desert crawls ever closer towards an oasis whether it be real or a mirage.
"I wish I could kiss you," Jo admitted, despondently adding, "I wouldn't blame you, you know, if you found someone else who could be there for you physically. It's not fair to ask you to go without for however long this takes."
"Hey, stop that. I don't want anyone else. Jo, baby, just the thought of someone else touching me turns my stomach. The only hands I want caressing me are yours. If I have an itch that needs scratching before you're feeling up to it, well that's what vibrators are for isn't it?" Lucy replied earnestly, with an adorably innocent look on her face.
Jo burst out laughing at her lover's miraculous ability to make something so personal sound like she was talking about picking up a pint of milk from the supermarket. "Oh Lucy, you are priceless!"
"Yes I am, because I'm not in the market. I'm taken, my heart is forever sold to one woman and one woman alone – you. There will be no one else tending to my needs in your absence because without you, I don't feel any of those needs. I love sex with you Jo – I think the fact that I could rarely get enough of you is testament to that – but I'm no nymphomaniac who has to be getting laid on a daily basis. I managed without before I met you and I'm damn sure that we can make up for lost time when you have your strength back. As long as you're not completely sick and tired of me by then that is."
"As if! That's not going to happen darling, not as long as there's breath in my body. I love you," Jo informed the younger woman firmly.
"I love you too, baby with all that I am and all that I have," Lucy replied.
"Careful, that almost sounded like a vow!" Jo quipped with a lazy smile, feeling the tug of sleep pulling at her once again and cursing her lack of stamina.
"A vow I'd be more than happy to make; for better or for worse, in sickness and in health," Lucy murmured as she stroked Jo's face as tenderly as she could with the clear vinyl glove on. "Marry me, Jo?"
"I… Luce… I can't make that kind of commitment without knowing I'm going to be around to celebrate a life with you. I'm sorry babe. It's not a no, it's more of an 'I can't right now but ask me again when I'm less likely to die on you right after the wedding'. Can you understand that?" Jo's gaze pinned Lucy to the spot, her expression desperate and imploring her to believe that it wasn't a rejection of her but rather a timing issue.
"Of course, it was stupid of me to ask." Lucy couldn't help but be stung by Jo's refusal to agree to marry her, knowing the rationale was legitimate but feeling the pinch of rejection all the same.
"No it wasn't. It was the sweetest and most beautiful thing you could have said to me and if I was at the end of my treatment with assurances that I was in remission at least, I would definitely have said yes. Right now, there are too many unknowns, too many risks involved and I don't want you saddled with a wife who needs constant round the clock care instead of one who can embrace a life spent together and share all the experiences it has to offer with you." Jo's calm words penetrated her lover's mind, conjuring images of walking hand in hand along a tropical beach at twilight somewhere on honeymoon, of kissing Jo deeply and passionately on the white sands as warm, frothy water lapped around their ankles. "Hold that thought. Wherever your mind just transported you to, keep that in your heart and one day, we will make it happen," Jo assured her young lover, not wishing to know the details but knowing that the intense desire and joy she had witnessed in the woman's deep hazel eyes was something she would strive to recreate any chance she got.
"I'll hold you to that," Lucy replied reverently.
"I'll count on it," Jo informed the beauty beside her.
"You should rest. I want you to conserve all the energy you can for kicking this cancer in the butt. I have plans for you when you're better!" Lucy's tone turned saucy in an instant, Jo's raised eyebrow sending shivers along the young brunette's spine in a thrill of desire. Even in her sick bed, Jo could ignite fires within her that no one else had ever come close to.
"Keep up with those kind of incentives and that third round of chemo might not be necessary. Sexual frustration might just pulverise any remaining cancerous cells into submission long before any chemical intervention can get near." Jo's fists clenched the thin sheets covering her hospital bed as her heart hammered in her chest. She felt herself swiftly slipping into darkness, a crushing need to close her eyes overcoming her desire to keep up the banter with her girlfriend. Lucy was used to the other woman falling asleep but something about the rapid loss of consciousness and Jo's increasingly flushed skin caused her to seek assurance from one of the medical staff. There followed a flurry of activity as nurses and doctors rushed to Jo's bedside, hooking her up to machinery to once again monitor her heartbeat and vital signs. Snippets of medical jargon drifted on the air to Lucy's ears as she was ushered out of the room; "tachycardic", "push IV fluids", "temperature 104", "FBC's , U's and E's". After what seemed like an age, Jo's main doctor stepped out of the room and approached Lucy, his expression grave.
"Ms Sorella, Jo seems to have contracted an infection despite our best efforts to keep her environment as sterile as possible. We're going to start her on a course of broad spectrum antibiotics until the results of her blood tests come back and show us what exactly we're dealing with. It does mean that her chemotherapy will have to be postponed until she's over the infection. As a precaution, we're going to have to request that Jo has no visitors for a while, to prevent any additional infections. She's extremely vulnerable and susceptible right now and any infection can be serious." Lucy's face registered her shock at the sudden deterioration in her partner and at the news that she would not be able to see her for the foreseeable future. Dr Walker understood the young woman's distress but his main concern was his patient and her wellbeing.
"Please tell her I love her and as soon as she's well enough, I will be back to visit her. No matter how ill she gets, please don't let her think I've abandoned her." Lucy turned to leave, not being able to bear being so near to Jo and yet unable to cross the short distance to be with her.
"How could you be so stupid? What on Earth were you thinking when you agreed to them torching the house? All that's done is draw more attention when we were about to be free and clear." Heaton was fuming. The CSE team, lead by the overly inquisitive Lorna Hart, had discovered a whole host of evidence of wrongdoing in the basement of the house which had remained largely untouched by the fire above thanks to the insulation and precautions taken when soundproofing the room. The cots on which their young captives had slept had all been seized and were undergoing rigorous forensic testing. He knew that any evidence linking the house to the Podowski inquiry would lead to even more awkward and dangerous questions being asked. As it was, he was struggling to justify allowing Stuart to continue as the lead detective when there were so many probable links to Sam's case but Heaton needed to retain some control over the flow of information and his only hope of that was through Stuart. He would have to demand that Stuart run it jointly with Sam if forensics came back unfavourably.
"I didn't exactly agree to it, they phoned me up once the place was already ablaze to tell me that they had 'taken care of it' and were moving the merchandise to a new location." The voice on the other end of the line was clipped, tension boiling in his words.
"Taken care of what exactly? There was nothing to take care of. There was no link to that property or to the people who own it at any point in the investigation in to the Podowski boy's disappearance and we were just hours away from being able to put the whole sorry mess behind us. Now, I'll be damned lucky if I can convince my superiors that the man we have in custody is responsible or dissuade them from trying to get him to exchange information in return for a reduced sentence." Heaton did not appreciate having to have this conversation. The less he spoke to this particular blot on society the better in his opinion but sometimes it was a necessary evil which simply could not be avoided.
"As I said, it was not ordered by us. It was an impulsive act by some rogue agents who will be dealt with in-house once the new warehouse is established. There are many who are willing to step into their shoes and whom I'm sure perform more satisfactorily. What of your informant? Does he have any news which may help us?"
"He followed DI Nixon to a coffee shop a few days ago where she met with the main crime scene examiner who processed both the Podowski house and the torched warehouse, he thought they might be discussing the case but it appears they were having a social drink...a very sociable social drink."
"Meaning what precisely?" Heaton took a breath before clarifying, not really wishing to throw anyone into the lion's den but his sense of self-preservation won out.
"Meaning, there is a very strong suggestion that these two ladies are engaging in more than a professional relationship. If it comes to it, perhaps their close connection could be used as leverage to get them to back off."
"Hmm interesting. I do find that the protection of a loved one is a powerful incentive for most people," Heaton's contact replied.
"Indeed. And they don't come much more protective than Sam Nixon," the Chief Superintendent agreed.
"Sam, listen I can't talk right now but I need to see you urgently." Lorna's voice was hushed, her words tumbling out in a rush as soon as Sam answered her desk phone.
"I'm just heading home, want to meet me there?" the DI asked as she continued to pile her paperwork back into files ready for stowing in their rightful cabinets.
"Ummm, yeah ok, that would work I think. I'll be there in about half an hour, I just need to finish this up." Lorna mentally ran through everything she already knew and what her discoveries had led her to believe, the thoughts giving rise to goose-bumps all over her body. The more the investigation turned up, the less sure she was of whom she could trust, except for Sam. After disconnecting the call, she downloaded the photos and reports to an encrypted USB memory stick, tucking it safely into the internal pocket of her black leather blazer-style jacket. With one last look around the lab to make sure everything looked in order, she strode out of the building, heading for her car and setting course to a local cybercafé. After paying in cash for an hour's usage, she logged on to an anonymous email account and attached the files to a new message. Typing a short curt note, explaining the contents, she hit the send button and logged off. Her heart was pounding and she hoped that she was simply overreacting and being ultra cautious but not willing to take a chance, she wandered into a nearby general store, checking to make sure no one was paying her undue attention before buying a bottle of rosé wine, again paying in cash, and taking a convoluted route back to where she had parked her car. She drove in circles for a while, again making sure that she was not being followed, before she headed to Sam's house to share with her the latest developments on the case, which appeared to be growing into a three-headed monster that she was wholly unsure they were capable of defeating. She hoped that Sam would understand why she had sent the email and support her decision to include someone who might have more success in bringing the matter to a close than they could hope to.
"Lucy, is everything ok?" Sam asked as she stepped out of her car and saw the brunette sitting hugging her knees to her chest on the doorstep.
"Not really. Jo's ill." The detective assumed that Lucy was referring to Jo's ongoing illness and that nothing would be ok until she got the all clear.
"I know, but apart from her being ill, is everything ok? Did we arrange to meet and I've forgotten?" Sam considered it to be quite possible after the day she had had.
"No, I mean she's ill, not the cancer, she's got an infection, I can't see her until she's better, stronger. I'm sorry Sam, I just didn't know where else to go." Lucy lifted her head as she struggled to stand, allowing the older woman to see her properly for the first time.
"How long have you been here? You're frozen. Let's get you inside, get you a hot drink and then you can tell me what's going on with Jo." Sam wracked her brain for the best course of action. She knew she couldn't turn Jo's lover away, especially not in her current state, but she knew that Lorna would be arriving any moment with a pressing need to discuss the case. She only hoped that Lorna would understand. Unlocking her front door, she ushered Lucy inside before the swarthy woman could object, directing her to sit on the sofa and wrapping her in the blanket Sam kept to hand for particularly cold evenings. Assuring her that she would be joining her in a moment, Sam entered the kitchen, filling the kettle with water and preparing three mugs with coffees of varying degrees of strength. She added an tot of brandy to each one, feeling that they each were going to need it for a variety of reasons. Just as she finished pouring the boiling water into the mugs, her doorbell rang. Sam swept up the drinks and carried them through to the lounge, depositing them on the closest table before letting Lorna in and bringing her into the room.
"Sam, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were expecting company. I'll get out of your way." Lucy was already on her feet when Sam returned, making a move towards the front door.
"No, it's ok Lucy, you stay. We can do this later or another time, Sam." Lorna too moved back towards the door she had only just entered through.
"Both of you are staying," Sam informed them firmly, her expression set and daring either woman to argue with her. Meekly, Lucy retook her seat on the couch, grateful for the warmth when Sam tucked the blanket back around her. "Stay there, we'll be back in a moment." Sam waited until she was sure the young woman wouldn't bolt as soon as she left the room before signalling for Lorna to join her in the kitchen. "I came home to find her sitting on the doorstep. Something's up with Jo, I can't turn her away." She spoke in hushed tones, standing close to Lorna and taking in her concerned expression and fatigued eyes.
"Nor would I expect you to. I meant it Sam, we can do this later if needs be, I can give you some time and come back once Lucy's sorted." Even as Lorna said the words, she was admitting to herself that it would probably be impossible, that once she left Sam's company that night, it might be the last time she saw her for a while. She had already made arrangements for her sister to take care of Katie, claiming that she had been booked onto a forensics course in Manchester at the last minute and would be gone for the remainder of the week.
"No we can't, this is obviously important. I want you to stay, I want you to be here so that when we get Lucy settled we can talk through whatever it is that has you so obviously rattled. Now, do you need to make arrangements to get Katie here or do you have to be home by a certain time?" Sam stepped even closer to the Scot, invading her personal space and eradicating all but the most narrow of gaps between their bodies.
"Katie's staying with her aunt for a few days," Lorna admitted, reluctant to leave this woman's company.
"Good, we have all night then." Despite the situation, Sam's words and the burr of her voice sent shivers of anticipation down Lorna's spine. The words washed over her like a physical caress, igniting fires and fanning their flames in a heady dance of desire. Subconsciously, her tongue darted out, trailing over her lower lip in a move which sparked Sam's own inferno. The petite blonde brought her own lips to Lorna's mouth, massaging gently, nipping impishly and soothing lovingly with her tongue. The kiss was brief, both mindful of Lucy's presence in the other room and not wishing to neglect her as they got carried away, but it was just enough to take the edge of both of their thirsts for contact for that moment, at least.