Epilogue
Gene turned around at the sound of his door swinging open and a smiling Alex sailed through his office with a latte held aloft.
"You forgot something," she said in a sing-song voice.
"So I did," Gene smiled smugly.
Alex thumped the cup down on his desk and folded her arms.
"Forgot to pay and left me holding your drink and sixteen assorted chocolate bars," she said before holding out a hand, "cough up."
"Give me my chocolate first and I'll pay up n full," Gene told her.
"What, like last week?" Alex raised her eyebrow, "when I bought you lunch and you handed me a Gene Sex Voucher when I asked for repayment?"
"I paid me debt off, didn't I?" Gene asked.
"That's not my quibble," Alex mumbled, reddening.
"In fact you owe me some change," Gene commented and Alex tried hard not to smirk.
"Money or nothing," she said.
"Oh really?" Gene asked, "then you won't get to see me novelty kecks tonight."
"Payment or you won't get to see my lack of kecks," Alex commented, clearing her throat as Gene spluttered.
"I'll get me wallet," he mumbled, thrusting his hands into his pockets just as a hammering knock sounded, "Bollocks to everything," he groaned as Jake flung the door open.
"Guv," he began, "sorry to interrupt..."
"Not sorry enough, Dawson," Gene growled, "this had better be good."
"It might be," Jake said, "I've got an informant who's got inside info on the forgery ring I've been tracking since January."
"Must be one hell of a ring if it's taken this long to forge," Gene said sarcastically, "Dawson you don't need me holding yer hand on this one."
"Just thought you might want to sit in on my meeting," Jake said, feeing a little confused.
"Just cos Nicey-Spice is off playing space invaders with Simon doesn't mean you need me following you around," Gene huffed. He was still somewhat pissed off that one of his best detectives had been pilfered from his team, "take Terry or Bammo."
"I want information, not to soak him," Jake frowned, "last time I took Bammo with me he drowned two suspects with water balloons." He shuddered, "The Super's still investigating the complaints from that one."
"Right," Gene thumped a hand on his desk and dropped heavily onto his chair, "then I'll get onto recruitment and find you a new partner who can go with you and hold yer ruddy hand."
Jake looked crestfallen as he stood in the doorway.
"I don't need a new partner," he moped.
"I'm sorry to be the one to have to say this," Alex began tactfully, "but Marci's moved on, Jake. She's got a new job now."
Jake's expression darkened with denial.
"She might come back," he moped.
"She's got a new title, an office near the canteen and Fletcher's raided the photography counter in Dixon's for her," Gene told him bluntly, "she's not coming back for the likes of you and yer Ronan Keating haircut, Dawson."
"Gene," Alex interrupted, "that's enough."
Gene looked somewhat aghast.
"What the bloody hell did I say now, missus woman?!" he cried, his arms flailing over his head.
Alex ignored him and turned back to Jake.
"Jake," she began softly, "You and Marci always made a great team but she's received a promotion."
"I know that," Jake scowled.
"And she's got her own work to concentrate on."
"I know that," Jake protested. He felt himself feeling flustered and his cheeks started to burn as Alex's knowing stare made him feel uncomfortable, "what? I do know that!"
"Then find someone else and go and forge yerself a ruddy personality, gawd love us," Gene scowled, his glare chasing Jake from the room.
"Fine!" he cried, "I'm going! I'm going!"
He shut the door a little too hard, making picture frames rattle and Gene's head jar.
"Jesus, Dawson, you're enough to give a man a migraine!" he declared which raised a laugh from Alex.
"Does that mean you've got a headache?" she asked.
Gene raised an eyebrow.
"Not enough of one to invalidate me sex tokens," he said.
Alex smiled. The day had been a strange and trying one but with Gene by her side she could survive anything.
"Good," she said.
~xXx~
Jake closed his eyes as he heard Gene continuing to insult him from the other side of the door.
"You won't be laughing tomorrow when I only get you six sugars for your coffee," he mumbled. He wished he hadn't bothered even telling Gene. He could handle his snout by himself. That wasn't a problem. He couldn't deny missing Marci though. They'd always been joined at the hip. He couldn'timagine going about his day without seeing her as much as he'd been accustomed to.
He heard something soft and wet plop onto the ground beside him and he opened his eyes to see a half-deflated water balloon on the floor.
"No, Bammo, you're not coming," he cried, crossing his arms. He reached into his pocket for his car keys and strode through the office to set off and meet his informant. Bammo was the kind of help he really didn't need.
Something bright caught the corner of his eye and he stumbled a little, confused and surprised. He looked around him but couldn't see anything out of place. Someone must have turned a light on or a wing mirror must have reflected a rogue bean of sunlight through a window. That was all.
He trudged on. Neither water balloons nor rogue blasts of starlight were going to stop him doing his job.
And neither was a crush he had to forget.
~xXx~
"Hey! I was wondering where you were!"
Simon was so happy to see a friendly face that he almost hugged Marci.
"Hello stranger," he smiled, "I just came back this morning."
"I know, I came looking for you," Marci told him, which was half-true. She'd hoped to catch up with Simon when she'd returned to the station from the press conference. When she'd seen no sign of him she had taken advantage of the opportunity to experiment with her new equipment and forgotten all about him, "where have you been?" She was surprised to find that Simon gave into his urge and hugged her, "I heard you took some overdue holiday."
"Yeah," Simon felt a little embarrassed about the hasty way he'd arranged his leave.
"It was all a bit weird," she said, "I got brought in to keep things ticking over -"
"And you did a great job," Simon told her, "I knew you would."
"And then I was getting ready to go back to CID," Marci continued, "when Fletcher asked to speak to me. I've been promoted. Detective Sergeant!"
"I know!" Simon smiled, truly happy for her, "you deserved it."
"I'm working with you part time, but I'm not sure how my hours are supposed to be split."
"We'll work that out," Simon assured her, "I'm just very glad to have some help at last," he gave a sharp intake of breath and his eyes lit up, "which reminds me, you have to meet my new DI."
"DI?" Marci asked, "I thought I was the only one joining your department?"
"It was a last minute decision," Simon said a little awkwardly, recalling how shocked they'd both been to receive the job offer the week before.
"Who's your DI?" Marci asked, "is it another internal promotion? Do I know him?"
Simon felt his cheeks flush as he said,
"I talked to you about him a while ago, actually."
Marci frowned.
"Oh?"
Simon's eyes sparkled as he looked at her excitedly.
"Something else happened to me, Marci. It's the reason I took leave."
"You're pregnant?" Marci asked, her eyebrows rising.
"No," Simon rolled his eyes, "I-I'm with someone. I mean..."
"Michael?" Marci asked.
"No," Simon ran a hand through his hair, "someone else."
Marci's eyes were glowing, excited for any gossip. She would deny it left and right but she was a sucker for romance and wanted to know all the details, "who is he?"
"I told you about him once," Simon said shyly, "about the man no one gave a chance to, except me? And that we could never be together because no one would give him a chance?"
Marci's eyebrow rose.
"Really?" she asked, "and... and everything is going well?" Simon nodded, "and you're happy?"
"Happier than I've ever been," Simon beamed and Marci gave a little leap of excitement.
"I'm so happy, Sir! So happy for you!"
Simon's heart started to thump as he thought about James waiting for him back in the office.
"Listen, are you coming to the office right now?" he asked, "because he's already waiting for me. You can meet him."
"Great," Marci jumped a little, "let's go!" Let me meet this mystery man!" she started to trot into the corridor with Simon following on behind, "how does he take his tea?"
Simon smiled and held up his two coffees.
"He doesn't," he said with a laugh.
"Sorry," Marci looked a little embarrassed.
"I'll be sure to fill you in on how he takes his coffee though," Simon told her.
~xXx~
Jake threw his jacket on the back seat and slipped into his car, closing the door behind him. He yanked the seatbelt across his lap, clicked it into place and jabbed at the radio which allowed Cher to warble into the car at top volume. He pushed the key into the ignition and started the engine which hummed happily whilst Jake checked his mirrors and began to pull out of his packing space.
"No, I don't." Jake told Cher crossly as she asked him whether or not he believed in life after love. He hated that song and had no qualms in telling her so. He hated the song and he hated love and he hated the fact that thinking about Marci sent him -
"Marci!"
In one shocking instant, Jake heard his own voice screaming her name. He couldn't work out whether it was coming from him or not, though. It seemed to come from nowhere and rang in his ears as darkness descended. What the fuck was happening to him? One minute it had been broad daylight, the next the black sky was dotted with stars and he couldn't see where he was driving. That wasn't a major problem though, compared to the fact that the steering wheel was no longer there.
He grasped at thin air, screaming Marci's name for reasons he wasn't even privy to, before he realised he wasn't even in the driver's seat. He was in the front passenger seat; so who was driving?
"Marci!"
"Oi!"
An angry voice and a pair of honking horns cut through Jake's panic. He found himself clutching the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers almost jammed into position and his knuckles turned white. His lungs and throat stung from screaming the name of his closest friend, who wasn't even there.
But I saw her... I saw her, if only for a moment -
"Oi!" an officer hammered on the door, "can you move? You're blocking the exit with your car!"
Jake sat back, panting in a panic. He stared ahead of him, out of the windscreen, where the daylight had returned and the stars had vanished. His car had moved no more than a few yards out of his parking space and towards the exit and he'd never left the driver's seat, no matter how vivid his daydream. He was trembling and he couldn't catch his breath as he slowly felt every hair stand up on end across the back of his neck and his heartbeat became so loud that he could actually hear it.
"What the fuck?" he mumbled, hearing another round of beeping.
"You need to get out of the way!" the officer beside him demanded, knocking on his door again.
Jake tried to start the car again but he was shaking so badly that it took three attempts and he moved at a snail's pace to avoid crashing.
"Crashing," he whispered to himself. There was something just out of reach in his memory, something he couldn't quite access, and he wasn't sure what it was. Just moments earlier he had felt one hundred percent certain his car was about to crash, but he had no idea into what or whom, and he thought – he could have sworn, in fact – that Marci was there beside him.
Eventually he forced himself to drive slowly out of the car park and pull up to one side of the road whilst he waited for his thumping heart to slow down and for his hands to stop trembling. He peered out of the window at the bright sky where the autumn sunshine dodged between clouds. He fumbled his mobile phone from his pocket and jabbed in a few numbers. He felt a sensation of relief as the phone rang, but less when an answer phone message played.
"Marci. It's me," he said, "Jake," he knew she didn't need that extra detail but it made him feel better to say it, "can you give me a call? Please? I'm..." he looked out of the window again. The world was carrying on as normal around him. And why shouldn't it? Everything was normal. He felt stupid now, really fucking stupid. Closing his eyes, he tried to smile in case she could hear it through his words, "sorry... I'm sorry, everything fine. I'm meeting my informant. I guess I was just..." he closed his eyes and swallowed, "I miss you, Marci." He hesitated, smiling to himself as he pictured Marci sitting in the seat beside him. They'd be catching up on gossip or talking about what happened the previous night at the club or something if she'd really been there. "I guess I'm just missing you." He sighed softly and pushed his fingers back through his blonde hair. "Listen, give me a call later. Maybe we can go out. To the club, I mean," he sighed again. Marci was going to think he'd lost his marbles when she got his message. "See you later." he paused. "Bye, Marci."
As he hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket he placed his hands on the steering wheel and grasped it. What the hell was going on with him? He couldn't even get his own head together, that was for certain. He leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing he could go home, crawl into bed and start the day over.
Something felt very wrong with the very fabric of the sky.
~xXx~
James finished filing the biggest batch of papers and grinned as he studied the clear space under Simon's desk.
"Now you can actually put your feet under it instead of your folders," he commented, laughing to himself as he wiped his dusty hands against his trousers. He could hear laughing voices outside, coming closer to the doorway and hoped one of them was Simon. He glanced around as he waited for them to come closer. There were some papers on Simon's desk that he knew needed filing so he turned around and started gathering them up just as the voices reached the doorway and James's heart jumped in his chest. He would know Simon's voice anywhere.
X
"Hey, maybe we can have a departmental meal," Simon bragged, "never been able to do that before. Never had enough of a department. Well... not one that wasn't hiding in the toilets full time."
Marci giggled, a spring in her step.
"DI Vickery? I've heard about him but I never met him," she said.
"Well you wouldn't have done, he was in the men's bogs the entire time," Simon pointed out. His heart started to race the moment he caught sight of the back of James and a smile spread across his face, "speaking of DIs, here's my new one," he beamed, "Marci, This is my new DI, and a lot more," he smiled smugly as James sun around, "James Keats."
"Keats -"
Marci felt her brain shut down. Someone had pressed the slow-mo button on the world as life slowed down around her. She was certain of that. James seemed to blur in her field of vision as he turned around with a smile and held his hand toward her.
"Hi," he said, "Are you DS Fell?" Marci's sight blurred even more as a layer of tears that she would never let fall formed in front of her pupils. She blinked, trying desperately to clear them but that just brought the man into sharper focus, and she recognised him. Oh, she recognised him. His face looked thinner and his eyes looked softer, his glasses more fashionable and his hair a little longer but she recognised him. She remembered seeing that face in the dock as her friends were dragged through the mill, one at a time, questioned about the very worst days and nights of their lives.
"It's great to meet you," James said happily, "Simon's told me all about you."
There was a strange silence that Simon tried to end.
"Marci?" he cleared his throat and tried again, "Marci?" this time she looked around at him, "\Marci, you OK?"
Marci stared at Simon, her brain bursting with a million and one words she was desperate to throw at him. Her face instantly greyed and her lips moved without a sound. How could she verbalise the way she was feeling? Nothing made sense, nothing at all. James Keats... Jim Keats... the man responsible for death and destruction was standing in Simon's office... her office too... as though nothing was wrong. Not to mention sleeping in Simon's bed. And she'd more or less told Simon to draw back the covers for him.
Shit.
Fuck!
Jim fucking Keats; destroyer of walls, planter of bombs, bringer of death.
Eddie.
Boom!
Marci visibly jolted on the sot as she flashed back to the blast that tore through a custody room and killed Eddie, the man she dallied too long with and had lost just as they were drawing closer together.
Nothing made sense. Nothing.
She stumbled back towards the door and shook her head.
"Actually," her voice crackled as she tried to speak. Her mouth was so dry that she could barely form her words, "I've got to get on with some work." She stumbled back another few steps, turning around and mumbling, "excuse me," before she started to stumble down the corridor, leaving Simon bewildered by her actions.
"Marci!" he called, "I thought you were working in here this afternoon! Where are you going?!" He stared after her, not quite fast enough to chase after her. Her actions made no sense to Simon, his memory as far away from Eddie's death as possible. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Of all the people he'd thought would have a problem with James's arrival, Marci had been at the bottom of his list. He turned to James, open mouthed and confused. James looked worried and shocked, his eyes hurt by Marci's response.
"Did I do something to her?" his voice hitched.
"No," Simon shook his head, "No, James, I don't... I don't understand..." he shook his head and moved across the room to wrap his arm around James, "I don't know what's wrong with her, but I'll sort it out, I promise." He felt James pressing his head against his shoulder. Even though the circumstances were less than ideal that still felt so nice. Comforting. It had been such a long time since Simon had felt so reassured by someone's touch. He and James had already proven they could get through anything together. Marci's response was no exception. He would give Marci time and then try to straighten things out with her, and he had no doubt he would succeed. For now he had to concentrate on how far they'd come in the space of a day. It had been a very long time coming but Simon had everything he wanted and that wasn't a position he was used to.
He would appreciate every single day he shared with James. He'd learnt the hard way to never take a thing for granted. James wasn't the only one with a second chance. For Simon, life had just begun.
~xXx~
Marci wrestled her key into the locker and jiggled it wildly. It refused to budge no matter how much she tried to force it.
"Come on," she growled angrily. Her palms were sweating and her limbs shook as she finally forced it open and tried to get her emotions under control. James's face had brought back so much pain that she didn't have any idea how to handle it. She'd gotten off lightly at the hands of Keats compared to the others and he'd had little contact with her directly but he'd taken something away from her.
"Eddie."
She swallowed hard, feeling suddenly nauseous. That night was never far from her mind but she'd learned to live with it. The smell of the smoke, the din of the explosion, the burning flesh of the man she'd grown close to, never more so than on the day he'd died.
Her hand trembled as she reached into the locker and shuffled its contents. Socks fell out and her clean uniform became scrunched and messy in a moment but she didn't stop until her fingers clenched around something familiar and with a racing heart she pulled a small strip of foil dotted with tiny pills from behind her clothing.
For emergencies, she'd told herself.
It was reassuring to have them there. She'd not touched them for weeks but knowing they were there helped quell her cravings. It was like chocolate. If she knew there was a bar in her locker then she could go about her day, quite happily, never even touching it. But if there was none to be found then she could think of nothing else.
Those little white pills helped more than any bar of chocolate.
She grasped it and pushed two out into the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes and swallowed. It wasn't as though she was doing anything wrong. They weren't illegal. They were prescription. Back twinges. Oh yeah, her back was definitely hurting.
She stood there, waiting. Almost forcing one to happen. And sure enough, it did. There in her back, a slight pain, just enough to notice. They happened every now and then, she was used to them. But that's what they were for. Her back pain. Two tablets, four times a day.
She closed her eyes.
"Cut out the middle man," she whispered, pushing two more tablets into her hand.
Very carefully she placed them all on the back of her tongue and pulled a can of coke from the back of her locker, careful not to let them sit on her tongue for long enough to get stuck she opened the can, took a swig and washed them down fast. The bitter, sharp after-taste of codeine made her flinch so she took a few more gulps and swilled the last one around to wash the taste away., then quickly she slammed the locker door, turned the key and slid to the ground to catch her breath.
She could still see his face in front of her eyes... Keats's... mixed with Eddie's every few seconds. They tore at her heart, but the pills would soon help with that. Just enough to take the edge away, just for the afternoon. Just to help her relax. To forget; maybe to sleep.
One slip would be alright. Just one, That's all. No more.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the lockers, her ears ringing from all the words she couldn't say. By the time an air bubble shot up her chest and escaped in a loud burp from the coke she was already starting to feel numb all over. Not too much, just enough.
Enough to get by.
One lapse was OK.
It was OK, right?"
Marci slowly pulled herself back to her feet. Clutching her can of coke she walked slowly away to spend the afternoon hiding away in her new poky little office where she didn't have to think about anything or anyone and she could ignore the strange twinkling starlight overhead. It was just a side effect of the meds that she'd grown unused to, after all.
And once would be OK.
The End
~xXx~
A/N: Hey everyone :) Here again, at the end of another instalment in the series that's been going on for longer than the presidential campaign. Thank you so much for the reviews and messages, and for reading and generally supporting me and my special world. I'm sorry that I've not had chance to thank you all by name this time, but you know who you are. I love that I've made some good friends through writing here. And to think I wasn't going to even post that first part of Out of the Window, all those years ago.
I've started writing the next story already as I'm trying to write it for NaNoWriMo to get me back writing properly. So far so good; the first two chapters are done and dusted and will be up here in due course. If you're participating in NaNoWriMo look me up – I'm xXMisty (predictably!) and I'll follow your progress too!
The next story is one I've been looking forward to for a very long time. We come back to our roots, looking at the nature of Gene's world and how fragile its fabric can be. I hope you'll join me for the first part of Save Tonight which should be going up later or tomorrow :)