Huge thanks, as always, to A for Antechinus, Sez01 and iheartsergeantsmith for your lovely reviews on the last chapter. Here comes this week's installment... Let's see what today brings for our gals.
Nope, I still don't own them, nor do I make any profit from playing with them like this. My reward comes in smiles, both when I write and when I read other people's reactions and since smiles are free, I'll gladly share them with anyone who holds a claim to The Bill :)
Read on, fair people, and should the mood move you, I'd love to hear your thoughts in a review or a PM.
Lucy closed the door quietly behind her, ears straining for any signs of life from her girlfriend. Sounds of a football match filtered through from the lounge offering some indication of where she might find the brunette.
"Hi babe," she murmured as she popped her head around the doorjamb, smiling indulgently as she spied the detective stretched out on her back on the sofa, one arm draped across the armrest above her head, the other folded across her midsection, head tilted to one side and gaze fixed on the images of men running around a field kicking a sack full of air about.
"Hi, did you get everything sorted at the office?" Jo asked rolling her head around to look at the younger woman but making no move to get up or change her position, knowing her lover would only scold her for it.
"Yeah, it's all taken care of. Sorry I had to abandon you at the hospice, I hope you didn't have any problems getting home? How was Saira?" Lucy asked, shuffling further into the room but still remaining on her feet, intending to make herself and Jo a hot drink.
"No, no problems at all. The lady on the reception desk arranged a taxi for me with a company they frequently use. Everyone was lovely actually. We'll have to keep that place in mind, just, you know, in case you ever need a break from taking care of me. It seems like a good place and they do respite care there too as well as end of life palliative care." Jo's eyes flickered between Lucy and the television screen as she attempted to feign nonchalance at the prospect of having to make use of such a place for herself at some point during her battle against cancer.
"We'll cross that bridge, as and when we come to it if we need to but it's good to know there are options if you feel you need a break and some additional support that I can't handle. But I don't see there being a time when I won't want to be the one to care for you sweetheart, not while there's breath in my body and strength in me. I don't care how tough it gets or how heartbreaking, I won't want you anywhere but beside me," Lucy informed her partner sincerely.
"I know you wouldn't opt to put me in there out of choice, Luce, but I don't want you making yourself ill or burning yourself out because you're trying to work and look after me as well. I want you to be able to tell me if it's getting too much for you and know that I won't think any less of you for admitting that we need additional help or support, whatever form that may take. I know how fortunate I am to have you standing by me… and I've been thinking about what you said, about us getting married. Saira said something to me today that made me realise that I might miss out on the best thing in my life because I'm waiting for something that may never happen." Jo beckoned Lucy closer, shuffling towards the back of the sofa and inviting the younger woman to join her, not feeling like she had the energy to get down on one knee. "Lucy, sweetheart, if you're still interested, would you do me the very great honour of marrying me?"
Lucy was grateful for the space Jo had created as she sunk to the sofa in shock at the about-turn. Gazing down on the fretful brunette, she ran a palm tenderly over the detective's pale cheek, eyes tearing up. "Jo, baby, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into it. I can wait forever and a day if you need to."
"No… no more waiting for the perfect day. I want to make the most of every moment, every day, every opportunity we have together regardless of what the future might hold. Saira made me realise that even if I didn't have cancer," Jo paused, swallowing thickly, still getting used to saying it out loud, "either of us could be in an accident and killed or anything at any time. If I wait until I've beaten this disease, who's to say that there will still be the chance to show the world how much I love you? But honey, if you're not sure; if it's not what you really, truly want, then please tell me. Don't just agree because you think it'll make me happy. If we're going to do this, if you're going to be my wife, I want it to be because we both want that, completely."
"Oh no, Jo, no, please don't think that I asked that because I don't want to marry you or that I'm not sure. I've never been more sure of anything, not ever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up with you every morning and know that you'll be there when I go to bed at night – as far as your job allows anyway. I want to share everything with you; the great times, the difficult times, the downright ugly times, I want it all. So yes Jo, yes I would love to marry you whether it's today, tomorrow, next week, next month or in two or three years. One hundred percent YES!" Lucy beamed, allowing herself to be pulled down for a heated kiss in celebration of their upcoming nuptials.
"Planning a wedding will give me plenty to focus on through my next round of treatments, at least," Jo quipped when they broke for air.
"That it will; the flowers, the venue, the guest list, the music, the colour scheme, your outfit – will you be wearing the dress or do I get to do that? Or we both could if you wanted to," Lucy babbled eagerly, mind awhirl, work day already forgotten.
Jo let loose a hearty laugh at her fiancée's enthusiasm before realising how right it felt to refer to her as that even only mentally. "I'll leave the dress to you babe, I think I'll look better and definitely be less self conscious in a tuxedo and trousers." The sounds of increased crowd noise from the television interrupted their conversation as Jo's attention was dragged back to the game she had been watching when Lucy got home. "Bloody Hell, Scholes!" Jo groaned as she watched a replay of the tackle which had earned one of the players on the team she was supporting a straight red card. "Great player but I think it's time he hung up his boots. Though to be fair, he never could tackle without running the risk of clobbering somebody and getting himself sent off," she grumbled to no one in particular.
"I'll leave you to watch in peace, sweetheart, I'm going to have a shower and make us something to eat, since I'm presuming you didn't get yourself anything while I was at work?" Lucy questioned sternly, eyes shining with the love she felt for her soon-to-be-wife.
Jo shook her head sheepishly in response. "I wasn't hungry earlier and then I got caught up in the game. Let me make you something while you have your shower, it's only fair since you've been slaving away at the office. You shouldn't have to come home and start cooking as well."
Lucy leant down and placed a lingering kiss against the older woman's lips, murmuring her appreciation of Jo's thoughtfulness. "How about we compromise? You can order us a takeout while I shower – whatever you feel like, I'm not that fussy and you know what I like so I trust you to order for me. That way, you don't have to miss any of your game and I don't have to cook."
"I like the way your mind works," Jo grinned, squeezing the brunette's hand affectionately, "now go hop in the shower and wash the work day off you so we can celebrate our engagement properly over a nice meal. Want me to pour you a glass of wine?"
"No thanks babe, I think I'll be really boring and stick to a cup of tea," Lucy replied, rising from the sofa and making her way to the stairs. Jo's eyes lingered on the door long moments after the gently swaying hips of her lover had disappeared from view. Her mind was reeling, in a good way, over what they were planning to do. She wanted to tell the world, wanted to phone Sam and let her know, let her share in the celebration but knew it would be inappropriate given the situation with Katie. Still, she vowed to at least pass on the good news to her closest friend the first chance she got in a way which wouldn't seem insensitive. With a satisfied sigh, Jo rolled off the couch and grabbed a fistful of take away menus from the kitchen, settling herself back in front of the television, phone in hand, deciding what to order.
Sam grabbed a cup of coffee and a sandwich in the canteen as she entered the final two hour stretch of her shift. Evidence in the murders was scarce so far and the statement provided by the neighbour who had discovered the body had held nothing of any much use. As Sergeant Noble had predicted, no one on the estate was willing to admit to seeing anything, hearing anything or knowing anything about the brutal slaying and it seemed that, until the results of the post-mortem, those investigating would be simply spinning their wheels. Uniformed officers had been assigned the arduous task of scouring footage from CCTV cameras in areas surrounding the killing site in the hopes of finding some kind of lead to go on. Jack had heard nothing back from his enquiries regarding the safety of the Podowski's so Sam wasn't even able to rule them out as potential victims yet. Her frustration was getting the better of her. Despite knowing that, just as Rome wasn't built in a day, crimes were not solved within hours – despite what those infernal American television crime dramas would have people believe – it still didn't make sitting around waiting for information to become apparent any easier to swallow. Opting to take her paltry meal back to her office, Sam decided to give her daughter a call and see if she had had any joy in talking to Mike.
The phone was answered after a few rings. "Hello?" Abi's voice drifted through the phone.
"Hi love, it's mum. How's things?"
"Hi Mum, you having a busy day?" Abi asked, hinting at the lateness of Sam's call despite them not having agreed a specific time to talk.
"Yeah, bit of a nightmare one. Sorry I couldn't call earlier. Did you get chance to speak to Mike?" The DI asked, too weary to get into another argument with her daughter about her perceived lack of interest in the younger Nixon's life.
"Yeah, we talked. He wants to meet up tomorrow so we can talk in person, suggested a coffee shop since then we'll both have to be rational rather than screaming at one another," Abi admitted, knowing that her mother would understand that the only one likely to do such a thing was Abi herself.
"That sounds like a good idea," Sam agreed warmly, glad that they were at least willing to give sorting it out a go. She had some hope that Mike might prove to be a calming influence on her daughter and hopefully a stable presence in Jared's life too.
"Yeah so I was wondering if there was any chance of you looking after Jared for me for a couple of hours? I'll be back long before you need to go to work." Abi's voice had taken on a pleading, almost whiny tone.
"Of course I will," Sam responded instantly, mentally juggling her commitments in her mind even as she agreed. It would undoubtedly mean not seeing Lorna – it wouldn't be fair expect her welcome a young baby whilst she was going through so much – but at the end of the day, Abi was family. The blonde DI hated having to even consider choosing between the two but knew practically, the time wasn't right to try and merge the two families into one.
"That's great Mum, really, I appreciate it, thanks. I'm meeting Mike at ten so it won't be too early a start for you."
"It's ok, Abi. Just promise me you'll try to really listen to whatever Mike has to say and not hear what you think he's saying? He seems like a good guy," Sam cautioned, knowing that Abi was too like she herself had been at that age – impetuous, presumptuous and carrying no small amount of arrogance.
"I can only promise to be myself, if he can't handle me as I am then he's not the man I want to spend my life with," Abi stated indignantly.
"All relationships call for some measure of compromise. No one can live the same way when they share their life with someone as they do when they are alone. We all have to learn to give as much as we take, to be sensitive and open to our partner's needs and not trample all over them to please ourselves," Sam counselled, imploring her daughter to see the sense in what she was saying and not make herself undesirable to every potential suitor who came into her life.
"Says you who has chased off every guy she's ever been with and is now resorting to having some sort of sordid fling with a woman to get her leg over? Save your relationship advice for the next time you're looking in a mirror. Mike and I will either work it out or we won't. Either way, it won't be the end of the world. I'll probably be in bed by the time you get in so I'll see you tomorrow some time," Abi barked ending the call before Sam had chance to respond or rebuke her. It was obvious that the younger Nixon had some issues regarding Sam's relationship with Lorna which were not going to be easy to overcome, especially given how headstrong and wilful Abi could be when she got an idea fixed in her head. With a heavy sigh, Sam threw the sandwich into the bin beneath her desk, no longer having any kind of an appetite.
Lucy reached the front door moments before Jo appeared from the lounge, cash in hand ready to pay the delivery driver for the food.
"That'll be £11.60 please, miss," the young Asian man informed her as soon as she opened the door, thrusting the food into her empty arms without any preamble. Jo slid in behind her, wrapping one arm around Lucy's waist as she reached out with the other to hand over the money, waiting for the change, not willing to let it go as a miniscule tip given the lack of grace in the service. Jo was all for getting on with things but a little customer care, such as an exchange of pleasantries never went amiss in her book.
"Thank you," she intoned cheerfully as he handed her the two twenty pence pieces, her face taking on a bemused expression as he turned on his heel without another word, climbing back into his car and squealing off minus a healthy portion of tyre rubber. "Well there's someone happy in his work!" she quipped as she closed the door behind her laden lover. "Want me to give you a hand with any of that?"
"No, I'm good, if you could just grab the plates and stuff from the kitchen?" Lucy replied, hefting her bounty higher and striding off towards the lounge.
"Already done, sweetheart," Jo told the brunette following her and hugging her from behind as the younger woman spied the intimate, romantic setting Jo had created in the short time Lucy had been upstairs. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual clutter and set with two dinner plates with silver cutlery; crystal-cut goblets filled with iced water, a slice of lemon curled decoratively over each rim; two individual candlesticks holding plain ivory candles. The volume on the football had been turned down to a subdued level and as they entered, Jo flicked the overhead lights off so that the room was bathed in soft illumination from the standard lamps, the television and the candles alone.
"This looks amazing," Lucy stated, breathlessly, half turning towards her fiancée. "You are amazing. I just keep falling deeper and deeper in love with you. Please don't ever change. Don't think that you ever need to be anything more than you are for me. You are everything I could ever imagine wanting and a whole lot more besides."
"Same goes for me too, love. I love you so much and this," Jo indicated the setting for their meal, "this is just a tiny token of my affection for you. Just wait until I get your engagement ring. You'll need a crane to lift your arm up!" the brunette told her confidently.
"I don't need anything extravagant, Jo. I have the greatest treasure, one that money can't buy: I have your love and your promise to marry me," Lucy rejoined, placing the bag of food on the floor beside the low table, swooning all over again as she spied the cushions Jo had arranged on the carpet for them to sit on. "Besides, I know how much I must mean to you if you're willing to tear your attention away from the City/United derby match to share dinner with me!" Lucy winked teasingly, knowing how legendary Jo's focus was when it came to her beloved football.
"I know which side my bread's buttered. United are throwing the match away, but I reckon I might still stand a chance of scoring tonight," Jo replied, urging Lucy to take her seat and offering her a brief shoulder massage whilst stood behind her lover.
"Oh you do, do you?" Lucy queried, amused scepticism written all over her expressive features.
"Mm-hmm," Jo confirmed, dropping a kiss on to the curly crown in front of her before settling herself on the cushion beside her now seated partner.
"I suspect you might just be right…about United throwing the game away," Lucy teased playfully as another goal went flying past their luckless goalkeeper.
"Damnit," Jo cursed, grabbing the remote and turning the television off in despair, not wanting to witness any more of the capitulation.
"Oh, now I think your chances of scoring just increased exponentially." Lucy calmly set about dishing up the steaming Indian food, wanting to eat before it went cold but still hoping to maintain the jovial, light-hearted, almost care-free ambience they were creating for themselves. Her mouth started watering as she saw exactly what Jo had ordered for them both, knowing that there would be a great deal of sharing going on given that both dishes vied for title of her favourite. "The odds on you scoring are definitely getting shorter by the second! You spoil me, babe."
"You're worth spoiling," Jo murmured as she leant in close, lips brushing over the smooth skin of Lucy's neck. "I think we better eat before I dive straight into dessert," she whispered directly into the younger woman's ear, causing her to shiver in delightful anticipation.
Moira climbed the stairs in search of her sister. She had barely seen Lorna all evening and was becoming increasingly concerned with her withdrawal. Her feet carried her to Katie's room instinctively, finding the older woman curled into the foetal position on the slim, single bed.
"Hey Lollipop, let me get you something to eat," Moira coaxed gently, keeping her voice soft.
"I'm not hungry," came the standard response, heard so many times since Katie's disappearance.
"I don't suppose you are sweetheart but that doesn't mean your body couldn't use something to give you the energy to keep fighting this fight," Moira advised sagely.
"I just want her back," Lorna cried. "I just want to… go back to how things were; me and Katie… and Sam. I miss her. I miss them both."
Moira perched on the edge of the bed, soothing a hand over Lorna's shoulder and down her arm supportively. "Have you talked with Sam since she went to work?"
Lorna shook her head. "She'll be busy keeping on top of all the open cases besides Katie's. I can't keep bothering her all the time just because I'm feeling clingy."
"She loves you, Lorna. She'd want to know you were missing her and she'd want to help if she could. Why don't you give her a text, see how her shift's gone? You never know, she might be needing to hear from you just as much as you need to hear from her." Moira retrieved Lorna's mobile phone from the bedside cabinet but once again her sister shook her head, refusing to take the device.
"I've been on my own all these years, I should be able to deal with this without being so reliant on Sam. I can't put all this on her, I can't make her my crutch or I'll drive her away. I have to be strong enough to handle it myself."
"If you won't let Sam offer you comfort and support, will you pray with me and let God help you find the strength you're searching for? Please?" Moira implored.
"I'm sorry, Mor, you know I don't share your faith," Lorna began.
"I know but where's the harm in giving it a go?" Moira was almost begging, hating to feel so powerless to ease her sister's suffering.
Sensing that it would offer quietude to Moira, Lorna reluctantly agreed, shuffling up the bed until she was sitting against the headboard, bowing her head reverently as Moira clasped their hands together and began reciting her prayer.
"Dear Lord, please help Your child, Lorna, to find the strength and peace she is seeking. Watch over her and guide her back to the light from these dark days she is walking through. Please send Your angels to watch over my niece, Katie, while she is lost to us and keep her safe until she can find her way back home. Please guide all those who are working tirelessly to find her so that they might bring her home to us soon. And please continue to bless my sister with the love You have sent to her through Sam. Keep Sam safe and give her, too, the strength she needs to support all those who are looking to her. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen."
Despite not believing in God's presence in the same way her sister did, Lorna did murmur a quiet, "Amen," as Moira completed her prayer. Her heart yearned to trust that there was some higher power, some almighty presence who could right her world again and prevent it from spinning further off its axis. Only time would tell if any of Moira's prayer would be answered.
Sam trudged wearily through her front door, grateful to see the back of a frustrating shift and tired beyond belief. The exertions of the past few days – the late nights, the disturbed sleep, the constant worry – was beginning to tell on her. Gina Gold had already told her earlier in the day that she looked 'like shit', in her usual caustic manner. Sam had simply smiled and brushed it off, not willing to discuss it in the middle of a corridor of the police station with countless ears listening in. She was in no way ashamed of her relationship with Lorna but it was all still so new and she thought that Lorna, at the very least, had a right to be consulted before the nature of the liaison became fodder for station gossip. The blonde wandered through to the lounge, tossing her handbag onto the sofa and sinking into the nearest chair. She knew she should move, should climb the stairs and crawl into her bed but her mind was restless in a way she couldn't accurately define. She laid her head back on the upright cushion of the armchair, letting her mind wander freely, seeing if she couldn't pinpoint what it was preventing her from switching off by not actively thinking about anything, just following her natural trains of thought. Her eyes drifted shut allowing an image of startling clarity to jump to the forefront of her brain. Lorna. Without understanding how she knew, Sam realised that she had an overwhelming urge to speak to Lorna, sensing that something was troubling her. She glanced at the clock and hoped that she wouldn't wake either her lover or Moira with her phone call. She padded through into the hallway to retrieve the cordless handset, grabbing her post on the way, mindlessly thumbing through the usual raft of bills, fake lottery scams, junk mail and promotional blurb. A padded envelope stood out from the crowd. Tossing the rest of the mail aside, Sam tore open the package, shaking out its contents. She was very grateful she hadn't already dialled Lorna's number as a severed eyeball, enclosed in a zip lock sandwich bag, slithered out of the envelope and on to her side table, swiftly followed by a blood curdling shriek.