A/N: In case someone with good memory notices I have changed the name of Charles' boss from when I first published chapter 1, the reason is I made up a name then because I had not heard it in the TV show. Now I know what it is and since I have kept all other names as on screen, I prefer to do it with hers too. Realised after a while that BBC has a nice homepage with all main characters' names and titles. Thanks for that BBC, I very much enjoy borrowing them.
Question maybe someone can answer: I thought I should probably change the settings for this story to a crossover (with Bodyguard). Does anyone know if it would make it more difficult to find as an OG story?
Chapter 8
When I finally was released from duty that terrible day, I immediately went to see Sam and Rebecka. My boss, CSI Lorraine Craddock, had called me up and informed me about the attack to Sam's school and I think I managed to seem taken aback, like I had not known before, just heard over the radio that it was one school but not exactly that one. And even though I had known I was shaken, so it was not that difficult to react as she would expect me to.
"There were no casualties among the pupils, but some were injured. However, I have learned that your son called in sick earlier in the day and was fetched by your ex-wife. It seems like he had a guardian angel."
I could not make out from the tone of her voice if she was questioning how come Sam had been home, but if there was a question I ignored it. He had indeed had a guardian angel in the shape of Ms. Dawes, but I had to protect that secret. I was blown away by what she had risked by telling me. I was immensely grateful because I knew that if it came out, it would likely be the end of her political career and yet she had done it. If I had hesitated regarding the nature of her character before, she for sure had proven herself now. Lorraine continued;
"We have moved them to a safe house, as we don't know if it has anything to do with you that Sam's school was attacked or if it was coincidence."
"Thanks, Ma'am. I'm very grateful."
"Please come to the office tomorrow morning and we'll talk more, now go see your family."
I drove to the safe house where I had been informed Sam and Rebecka had been taken. He was fine and happy to see me, but not as happy as I was to have him unharmed in my arms and I hugged him long and hard. I almost did not dare to think of what could have happened to him or his friends.
"I can't breathe, dad!" he finally complained, and I had to let him go.
"Okay scamp, I'm just freakin' happy to see you. You go watch some telly and I'll have a chat with your mum."
Rebecka was distressed, naturally. The thought of that it had been so close that Sam was there during the attack, the school blown up, many of his friends and teachers injured, two dead police officers and leaving their home to stay here, that was a lot in one day.
"Did you know?" she asked as soon as we were alone.
"I can't tell you anything. Please, don't ask any questions Rebecka. Let's just be grateful he was not there, okay? And please keep him in bed over the next days as there are police officers around here. I need the story about him having the flu to hold up. Okay? You think you can do that? Otherwise I will be in trouble, and others too who don't deserve it."
Rebecka is bright and she understood there was a good reason she should not ask more questions, so she just nodded.
"I see. I'm grateful either way, but I need to know - are we in danger, Charles? Did this have anything to do with your involvement in the 1st October attack?"
"It may be a coincidence, but it could also be that they were targeting me, or someone next to me as a revenge. We don't know that and that is why you must stay here until we know more. I'll stay here too, I'll take the couch. I should not be staying in my flat either and they can't afford two separate safe houses for us. You think you can live with that?"
"It's fine, I think Sam will just be glad to have you here, and honestly I'm too in this situation."
For the first time in many years, we spent the night under one roof united by the possible danger we might find ourselves in.
-OG-
Next morning, I went to the office like Lorraine had asked me to.
"I hope everything is well with Rebecka and Sam, given the circumstances?", she began.
"As well as could be expected, it's distressful having to leave your home and live under protection like that, but I'm glad they had the possibility. Sam has the flu, but otherwise he's fine."
She looked at me sharply.
"Yes, he was very fortunate to have the flu on a day like that."
I was grateful for my ability to put on a poker face in that moment.
"Indeed, he was, Ma'am."
She dropped the subject and went on.
"You do understand the question it raises?"
"I don't understand how they could possibly know which officer was responsible for the 1st of October, unless there has been some kind of leak."
"We don't know, we're investigating of course… Meanwhile, we have to take the view, if there's any risk, any risk at all of you being a target it puts not only you and your family in jeopardy, but also your colleagues, maybe even the principal and her staff."
Now I realised where this was leaning, I should have seen it coming.
"I'm sorry Charles, but you're restricted to desk duty, pending reassignment."
It was the logical decision, I knew that, but it made me upset. Not only did I not fancy desk service much, but I did not want to leave Ms. Dawes on her own. Of course, she would get a replacement, but I felt I needed to be there for her. Especially after what she had done for me.
"Oh, come on! I'm not the one who's fucked up. The leak, the other ones, they should get punished."
"This isn't a punishment, Charles. I think you know that."
I did, really, I just found it hard to accept anyway but I could do nothing but head for my desk and a long boring day by the computer, drinking foul tasting coffee from plastic mugs and wondering what Ms. Dawes was doing now and hoping she was safe at all times. I was grumpy, reluctantly taking on the tasks given to me, pointless ones like organizing duty rotas, and I lashed out at a colleague who came over with a pile of handwritten reports that needed to be transferred to electronic ones. I felt I could have been of more use elsewhere and my wish to be out there and do something that mattered was eating on me.
In the afternoon, Lorraine surprisingly called me into her office again. She did not seem pleased.
"Your line manager doesn't appreciate your attitude to administrative duties."
I shrugged my shoulders apologetically but did not feel very apologetic.
"They are not my strong suit."
"Just as well you're being restored to active duty at the Home Office, then."
Yes, yes, yes! I would be back.
"Thank you, Ma'am."
"Not me. Seems like you have made friends in high places."
Had she wanted me back? Had she requested it? For some reason that thought made me very happy, happier than it ought to. After all she was just a client like any other.
It seemed to annoy Lorraine that she had been overrun, but she only said;
"That's it. Piss off."
So, I did, and next day I returned to my place by Ms. Dawes side. She was already in her first meeting for the day when I arrived. She looked out through the office window and noticed my presence. She gave me a quick smile, then returned her focus to her meeting. I kept looking at her. Even when her words were not to be heard, she was so charismatic. Through the muting glass, I could see her expressive face change in silence, arguing, listening, frowning, focusing, smiling. She was not girlishly pretty, but so much more interesting than that, beautiful in her own special way with almost disproportionately large eyes and that mouth which seemed to be made for smiling but too seldom did.
She did not acknowledge that she had pulled any strings to have me back. When she was on the move to the car later in the day, she simply said;
"Good to have you back, PS James."
"I'm glad to be back."
And I really was.
-OG-
That weekend I was off work. I knew that Rebecka was not comfortable seeing too much of me, so I tried to stay out of the safe house in between. An old friend was in town, so we decided to meet up for drinks. Elvis was a soldier, that was how we knew each other, but meanwhile I had moved on he was still in the special forces and it was a rare treat to be able to see him. We had known each other for long, long before my marriage and we had shared so much – he was probably the person who knew me best in this world. He knew more about me than Rebecka ever had. I think some people mistook him for carefree and shallow, but that was a jargon he used and there was quite some depth to him if you knew him well. With that said, he could also be a jack-ass, he was a good friend but probably the worst boyfriend in the world and sometimes the stories he told me about his many relationships made me cringe.
We met up for a few beers and spoke of how life had been since we last met. My substantially improved health condition and relationship with Sam and Rebecka, his life on tour – the little he could tell as most of it was classified information, his love-life – which was always a source of conversation as it was so fluctuating, my non-existent love-life which he thought was both tragical and comical.
"Charlie, Charlie, Charlie…", he said shaking his head. "You're a damn good-looking man and I'm sure women would fall at your feet if you let them."
I looked down spinning a coaster on the table, shrugged my shoulders.
"It's just not my priority right now. Sam is. Work is. Nothing else. I'm just glad to have a fully functioning life again."
"I don't know how you can consider your life fully functional if you don't get it off sometimes", he grinned.
"Elvis!"
"Okay, okay…let's drop the subject. So, Sam is fine. How about work then? Any interesting clients now?"
"Yes, I'm bodyguard for the Home Secretary since a few weeks."
He leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head, looked like he was thinking of something pleasant.
"Aha, the Home Secretary, Molly Dawes. Not bad!"
"What do you mean?"
But the tone of his voice, and just knowing Elvis, I already could guess where this was going.
"She's one of my free passes."
"One of your free passes?"
"You know, kind of a celebrity you would be allowed to shag if you come across them, even if you're in a relationship."
"Yeah, I know what a free pass is, but first – aren't you supposed to have one, not several? And secondly, the Home Secretary of all people?!"
"Come on! Even a monk like you must have noticed she's beautiful... and then there's something about a woman in power... the thought of getting on top of her and feel that you are in charge."
I shuddered. I did not like what Elvis just said for so many reasons, it was just wrong on every level. I told him to zip it and we talked about other things, but on the way home I analysed what it was that had bothered me.
I did not want to picture him with her, because I wanted her. The realisation hit me with full force. The epiphany that I wanted to be with her in the most intimate way. And I did not want to do things to her, I wanted to do things with her. Unlike Elvis had fantasised, I did not need a power trip of feeling superior shagging her like I owned her or push her down in any way, but I would want to be her equal. One man and one woman making love. The sudden need almost left me breathless.
I did not feel grateful to Elvis for alerting me to this. It was so totally inconvenient and inappropriate. I had to be 100% alert and focused on keeping her safe, not let my attention slip because I was distracted by the client herself. It was also unthinkable for other reasons. Even if she would have been attracted to me, which I was sure she was not, an affair with her bodyguard would be ridiculed and could be the end of her political career. This was simply something that never could happen for so many reasons. Still, when I went to bed on my couch in the safe house, slightly drunk as I was, I dreamt something unsettling, something forbidden and exciting, that made me wake up in the middle of the night with my entire body reacting in a way it had not done since long before Rebecka and I went separate ways. I was clearly in trouble.
