Lots of people reading, but not too many reviewing. Thanks heaps to those who do take the time to post a review. It's satisfying to know that people are reading, but feedback is always greatly appreciated.
RE. this chapter - I always felt that there was more to Nick's reaction in the episode "In Harm's Way", that perhaps he bore the scars of something from long ago, which made him react with such anger and passion in this case. This is my take on it. Be interested to know what others think.
Disclaimer: I do not own City Homicide or its characters.
4.
Jen looked at him intently as he began to speak. He was usually such a strong man, so confident, self-assured and protective in a sexy, roguish sort of way. It pained her to see him so obviously broken by something that had happened to him, something he had kept deeply buried from his colleagues.
She could see the distress on his face, the pain deep in his eyes. She wanted to reach out to him, to wrap her arms around him, to be his protector; but she knew that she couldn't.
"I was 16 when Jason died. He had just turned 21. Had an apprenticeship, a nice girlfriend, was doing really well for himself. I remember mum and dad being so proud of him."
Jen swallowed, looking down at her hands. She thought she knew where this was heading; she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing that Nick had obviously suffered some great trauma, and that there was nothing that she could do to fix it. When they had started working this case together, she had been surprised by how angry Nick had seemed, she hadn't seen that sort of rage in him before. It wasn't like Nick to not want to put a killer behind bars. She figured that there must be some reason behind his anger, but she had never guessed this. She had never thought that it had been so close to home for him.
"Jas went out to the pub in Footscray one night, with his mates. Just kids enjoying a night out, having a good time. When they were walking home, they were set upon by a group of thugs. Doesn't seem to have been any reason for it, no provocation. Anyway, Jas was badly beaten. He died three days later from his head injuries. My parent's never recovered, Jen. They never got over his death. I went from being a normal 16 year old in a happy family, to being a 16 year old kid living with parents who couldn't cope with the loss of their son. Mum ended up depressed, not sleeping, taking lots of pills. The old man just became withdrawn and sort of gave up on everything. I ended up having to look out for my sister, make sure she was okay. Everything turned to shit. Jen, I've been on the other side. Been in the Clegg's shoes. I know what it's like to have everything ripped away from you by some drunken idiot. You know – I wanted to kill the bastard that murdered my brother. I'm no better than William Clegg."
Jen reached out and took Nick's hands in hers, her voice pleading. "Yes, Nick. You are. You might have wanted to kill that person, but you didn't. You didn't take a gun and threaten him, threaten his family. You joined the Force, and now you can catch those sorts of people. Get them put away, try to stop some other family's pain."
Nick felt his heart swell with affection for her. She was right, of course. She always was. She was sitting there, across from him, holding his hands, pleading with him with those big beautiful eyes. He didn't think that he would be able to contain his feelings for her, for much longer. How he had missed her, in the last four years. She had been his wife – only in name, only in the scenario they were acting out; but it had been so much more than that. The little touches, the soft kisses between a husband and a wife, the brief glances between them, the knowing; knowing that it was so much more.
The early morning sun was streaming through the open curtains, the light reflected throughout the bedroom, rays dancing off the walls. She lay curled into him, her back against his front, their heads almost touching, the pillows pushed so closely together that there was no gap between them.
His arm draped across her waist, and her arm lay on top of his. Their bodies were moulded closely together. They had ended up that way sometime during the night, both subconsciously craving the physical closeness of each other, gravitating towards one another in sleep, without being fully aware of it.
She opened her eyes, suddenly becoming aware of the physical proximity of him to her. For a brief second, she wanted to lean back into him even further, press herself against him, pull his arm tighter towards her. Instead, she lightly removed her arm from atop his, and gently wriggled her way out from beneath his strong hold.
He sensed the movement and opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of her as she rose from the bed and padded lightly away, into the kitchen. He sighed, leaning further into her pillow, inhaling her scent and feeling intoxicated with the desire and longing that he felt for her.
He got up slowly, and followed her into the kitchen. She stood with her back to him, at the kitchen bench, making a coffee. He walked quietly up behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. "Morning" he said softly, against her cheek.
The feel of his hand on her back, the whisper of his breath on her neck. Jen shuddered and closed her eyes, willing herself to resist the urge to turn around, fling her arms around his neck, and kiss him with a searing passion.
She felt his hand move from the small of her back, to rest on her hip, and she was unable to prevent the small gasp that escaped her lips. This was torturous. They had shared their lives for the last 8 months, and she couldn't dampen the smouldering desire that she felt for him.
He felt her body tense beneath his hands, the sexual tension between them scorching. His breath quickened, his heart beating wildly in his chest, and he felt the physical ramifications of his desire. He pressed himself harder against her and bent his mouth to her ear.
"Oh Jen" he whispered against her.
She wanted to pull away – her head told her that she needed to stop this; her body, however, appeared to be a separate entity and moulded back into him further. She was in a heightened state of arousal now, and wanted nothing more than to feel him with her, feel his skin against hers, his hands on her body.
The house phone rang, the sudden shrill noise shocking them into springing apart, gathering their senses, regaining their composure.
Jen flushed with embarrassment, suddenly aware that their little liaison would have been captured on camera. She silently cursed herself for having let her guard down, her defences drop. She mustn't forget that they were on an assignment which was highly dangerous; they could not compromise their safety and the safety of others, by letting themselves get carried away with feelings and desires.
They looked at each other, both caught up in the feelings that this moment was rekindling in them.
Nick reached out to touch Jen's face, his heart full of love for her. She pulled away, and arose from the couch. "I have to go."
Nick looked down at his hands, and sat back, deflated.
He wanted her so much, but it felt as though she were slowly pulling back from him. After four years of waiting, he wasn't sure whether he could say goodbye to her again; but for the time being, at least, he would have to.
His voice was quiet with the defeat that he felt. "Okay. Thanks Jen. For being here."
She bent down and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "No problem. See you tomorrow."
And with that, she was gone.