A Good Man
Chapter 3
"Get out" Lestrade said simply, removing his foot from her neck and walked away back to the living room, leaving the bizarrely dressed Sergeant flat on her face in his hallway.
Donovan heaved herself painfully up off the black and white tiles, rubbing at the back of her neck where the Inspector's foot had so painfully rested. Her head was throbbing from the direct hit when he had ground her face into those same tiles with no warning.
She rested back on her heels for a long moment, convinced if she actually stood up she would fall straight back down again. She had forgotten just how dangerous her boss could be. Then again she had never actually been on the receiving end before. Always had been her trouble, not thinking things through properly and then having to deal with the consequences of her impulsive actions and her big mouth.
Shit, she couldn't leave without speaking to him, and right now she couldn't leave full stop. If she moved she was going to throw up all over those pretty black and white tiles which were starting to waver as she stared at them. She closed her eyes hoping that would help, but big mistake, the nausea and dizziness grew instead of receding, and she didn't see Lestrade come back to the hallway, hair wet from a quick shower and now dressed in jeans and a clean tee-shirt with a pair of comfortable old trainers on, instead of barefoot and half naked in his shorts and top.
"What are you still doing here?" his cold voice queried.
She swallowed, trying to talk through the sick feeling overwhelming her.
"Can't move, feel sick" she got out through gritted teeth.
"Not on my bloody floor you don't" he growled unimpressed but she was helped up with a strangely gentle grasp and then half carried, half dragged to the downstairs washroom, where he placed her carefully right next to the toilet bowl, just in time for her to lose the contents of her stomach.
When she had finished, a glass of water was handed to her without comment and the bowl was flushed. She muttered her thanks with a touch of resentment, it went against the grain to appear weak in front of anybody, she had fought to prove herself as capable as any man at her job, but to do this in front of Greg Lestrade, the man, the professional, she had always admired, despite his inexplicable toleration and even liking for the fre...Sherlock Holmes, made the embarrassment even worse.
This visit was meant to be proving her worth as a copper to him, and mending fences after the fiasco with Sherlock, not showing him how bloody useless, weak and girly she was.
She used the water to wash out her mouth and get rid of the disgusting taste, still with her eyes closed; trying to summon up the guts to actually open her eyes and look at Lestrade.
When she did, when her gaze travelled up to the face of the man standing beside her, she just about managed to stop the hateful flush of embarrassment which wanted to flood her face. His cool gaze surveyed her impersonally and she felt the chill straight through to her backbone.
"How do you feel now?" he asked indifferently, obviously trying to gauge how quickly he could throw her out of his house. A spurt of face-saving anger made her hiss "Like someone ground my face into the floor with their foot".
For a millisecond she would have sworn that amusement warmed the frozen dark eyes into their customary chocolate brown, willing to laugh at the absurdities of life. But it disappeared as if it had never been there and his expression went back to coldly impassive.
He left the room, Donovan was confused and disappointed. She thought he would at least help her to her feet before he threw her out of his house. She gritted her teeth and forced herself up by sliding her body up the wall and hanging for dear life onto the sink whilst her wobbly legs tried to take her weight.
"What the hell are you doing Sally?" She looked at him in surprise, sweat visible on her upper lip and at her temples. He handed her an icepack and painkillers. She looked at them as if she couldn't figure out what to do with them, then heard a sigh from the man standing opposite her, who unbent enough to hook an arm around her shoulders and say. "I can't pick you up in here Donovan, not enough room, can you get out to the hallway with my help"
She nodded wordlessly; despair at the realisation that he was actually going to bodily threw her out of the house kept her silent. Christ she still needed to talk to him, it was important and she knew he wouldn't allow her a second chance to get near him, this was it, and she'd used the element of surprise to get to him which would be a one off with DI Lestrade, he always learnt from his mistakes, except when it came to the Freak.
She shamelessly used his assistance to exit the bathroom, trying desperately to come up with something that would allow her to more time to speak to him, when he suddenly bent and put his other arm underneath her legs and hefted her easily up to his chest. The quick movement made the dizziness worse and for a second she concentrated on ignoring the rising wave of nausea again.
She stiffened in his arms, but to her utter confusion he turned away from the front door and took her into the living room, laying her gently down on the sofa.
"I will call an ambulance, you need some medical attention" he said gruffly, a hint of worry in his voice.
"No, no don't do that sir, if they find out I've come to see you it will look bad for your disciplinary, I don't need an ambulance" she replied in panic. This fiasco was bad enough, no way was she adding a trip in a sodding ambulance and all that form filling to the mix, shit this visit was supposed to be under the radar.
The look on his face was typical DI Lestrade when one of his team had pissed him off, it almost made her smile, the unforgiving iceman act he had been subjecting her to since the Fre.. Sherlock the arsehole had taken that dive off the roof at St Barts, had bloody hurt.
She just needed to rest for a while, just close her eyes for a little while then she could sort this mess out. She closed her eyes
Lestrade looked down at the unconscious woman on his couch. What the fuck, he needed to get her some medical attention, but she had been adamant about the ambulance. What the hell was she doing here? He really didn't care; he just needed to get her fit enough to her out of his house, without further damage to his fucking career or his reputation. His time out was well and truly over. No more self-indulgent moping. Time to deal with this bloody nightmare once and for all.
Donovan whimpered and her skin looked cold and clammy as she lay there.
He shook his head; there was only one possible option now.
He picked up his mobile phone and selected a number. A well used number. He hesitated, indecisive, not wanting to do it this way. This was such a bloody bad idea, he didn't know what reaction he was likely to get but he could make pretty good guess. This was not going to be fair or pleasant. He had no choice.
He pressed the call button and waited for it to be answered.
"Its Greg, I need your help…. John"
AN: Pleae read and review. Thoughts, comments would be very helpful.. ta muchly x
Disclaimer: As previously, not mine, only playing