Healing

Genre: Family; Friendship; Drama; FUTURE FIC

Pairings: Rosie and Julian; Scott and Naomi friendship

Main characters: Rosie, Julian, Scott and Naomi mentioned

"Oh, BOLLOCKS," was the declaration, loud and adamant.

Rosie Bailey rolled her eyes. "Jules, you're recovering…"

"I'm aware of that Rosa," Julian said, supressing a gasp of frustration and pain.

"… From a gunshot wound," Rosie reminded him, with the patience of what could only be described as a saint… or a nurse, with an injured husband.

"YES, I remember that as well," Julian said, leaning against a wall for support, with a raised eyebrow and a huff.

"That nearly killed you," his wife said. "You would have bled out if not for Naomi."

Julian sighed, then smiled, rolling his eyes heavenwards. "That I recall also, my love," he said quietly, embarassingly almost.

"And yet, here you are less than a week later trying to swan about our flat as if nothing had happened," Rosie scolded gently, as she took his arm to steer him towards the sofa that Julian had finally resigned himself to. "You're not recovered yet, Silly Goose. Not even close. Your leg has a lot of healing left to do."

"I'm sorry Rosa… I'm just so bloody restless. I can't sit still for the life of me. If Aunt Sally would only assign me to desk duty I'd even be happy with THAT."

Rosie smiled, as she shook her head at the folly of her impatient husband. "Well in spite of Uncle Sherlock's dogged assessment of Yarders in general, you lot aren't stupid. Well… most of you aren't, anyway," she said teasingly, winking at Julian. "Uncle Greg suggested Aunt Sally might be convinced if the argument in favour were sound enough, to assign you light desk duties from HOME. Anyway she's enough in the loop to know better than to allow you within a half kilometre of bloody New Scotland Yard."

"Spoilsports, the lot of them," Julian grumbled. "Sticks in the mud. Party poopers… they've all broomsticks up their asses." He frowned at the floor, then raised his head and gazed at his wife with the saddest green eyed expression he could manage.

"Oh, give me a bloody break," was the roll-eyed response. "If I'm immune to a beagle's puppy dog look, I'm sure as hell not going to cave to a melancholy Irishman's." Glancing back with a single raised eyebrow and a crooked pursing of her lips, Rosie tried not to sneer at her pouting husband as she heard the call of their daughter.

"How is Constable Jacobsen, by the way?" Rosie asked, as she darted into the nursery to check on Riley. "John tells me Scott has taken an interest in her recovery? As a friend, of course?"

Julian settled himself more comfortably on their sofa, distracted for the moment by his wife's small talk.

"She's as well as you could expect, I reckon," Julian said, only as loud as needed for Rosie to hear. As she entered the room with their daughter in her arms, he adjusted his volume accordingly.

"The loss of her husband was… well it still is quite difficult. In some ways Rosa, I see our incident as… I don't know. Fate, I suppose? Naomi needed someone to confide in who understood how she felt. I mean, truly understand… not just someone to listen, but to KNOW, you know?"

"And Scott needed the same. Naomi's wound was superficial, yours was a bit more serious but really… that bullet didn't even nick your femur, only your artery… oh hell, Jules, as if even THAT were minor… but you were taken care of. She made sure of it. She's meant to be in our midst, I think. I don't know in what capacity exactly, or for how long… she just… IS."

"I think, Rosa," Julian said, as he reached out for his wife, taking her hand and drawing her and the baby towards him, "Scott has found a friend and confidante, and so has Naomi. They understand each other on so many levels, Love," he murmured. Rosie smiled and carefully seated herself next to him. "For now, they both need healing. And they will help each other towards that."

"I think," Rosie said thoughtfully, as she leaned herself and their daughter back against Julian's outstretched arm – still mindful of his healing leg, "Naomi will soon join the Lestrades in The Nook, yes?"

Julian smiled at this, thinking, pondering, dreaming, hoping, but still saying nothing. "Well, friends do occasionally join them… time will tell." he finally conceded. "I don't know what will happen with them, if anything beyond what they have. I only know that they're suited, but neither of them are ready to move on in that way. Scott perhaps is closer to it… but he's not there yet. He's come far, but there's still… so very much healing left."

Rosie nodded her head at this, and they were silent for several moments. "I'm tired, Rosa," Julian finally admitted. "My earlier attempts were bloody stupid, but I know I don't need to tell you that. I'm a fool, nothing more. If only my body were up to date with my mind and heart, I'd be off to the bloody races by now," he said, drawing her closer for a soft peck.

Rosie kept a stiff upper lip, refusing to react. "Yes, you ARE a fool, Julian Andrew Bailey." She glared at him sternly, until his green eyed gaze, which always, since childhood even, made her heart skip a beat and her resolve weak… made her pause.

"But you're MY fool, and I wouldn't have you any other way," she said, leaning in to kiss him softly.