Chrissy has only just put down her bag and flicked the kettle on, when she heard his key in the lock. "James?"
"Yeah its me." Silly question really. He's the only other person with a key to their flat, and if it was anyone else, they'd hardly announce themselves.
"Good day?" He slouches against the kitchen door frame, frowning.
"We got the bastard."
"That's good."
"Would have been better if he hadn't killed someone else this morning. And if Constable Marks wasn't in hospital."
"Oh no, is he alright?"
"Yeah...yeah he's ok." He gratefully accepts the tea she's made him, and sighs. "Just should have caught him sooner that's all."
"You did your best, you always do."
"Tell that to Mrs Williams, she's burying her daughter next week." He shakes himself, and she drops it. Chrissy knows that telling him its not his fault is useless. He can't accept it, not now, not after a nightmare at three in the morning. Distraction has always worked better.
.
.
.
.
An hour later, and they are both curled up on the sofa, a steaming bowl of chips and gravy in front of them. The catch up service on their telly is running, cheerfully flashing up programmes they can watch. She knows the choices though.
"Casualty, Holby City, or Midsomer Murders?"
"Hmm, Holby City I think." It fits the pattern. They tend to watch the opposite of whatever the issue is. If she's had a bad day, its a detective show, if he has, its a medical drama.
"Holby it is then? You comfy?" He wriggles a little, and nods.
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah." James reaches forward, and pulls the lap tray, complete with gravy soaked chips, onto their knees. She presses play, and he starts counting in his head.
"Oh for the love of...that's not protocol!" It only took her four minutes to get annoyed. That's a new record. "You can't defibrilate someone on that drug! You'll just double stop their heart. Actually no, those monitors have been saying he's fine for the last minute. Shocking someone with those paddles when their heart is fine, will kill them. He's dead. Who writes this shit?"
"I want to know who their advisers are, because they need new ones."
"They really do. That drug isn't prescribed. And certainly not to someone on a ventilator." Just as he is about to agree with her, she shouts again. "OH MY GOD HE'S GOT A SPINE INJURY WHAT ARE YOU DOING PICKING HIM UP!" James chuckles and she huffs at him, before grinning.
"Maybe I should be an adviser? Could make a fortune."
"Chris, they'd get axed."
"Why d'you say that?"
"Because you'd make it so realistic that they'd be waiting for the blood results for the entire weeks episodes."
"Well its true, blood work doesn't come back in twenty minutes. It gives the public unrealistic expectations."
"That's true, but-"
"-No, no, no, no no! Don't put anything in his mouth. What the hell? If she was on my ward, the matron would have sacked her. That's like 1950's medicine right there. I mean who puts something in an epileptics mouth?"
"Idiots clearly," He replies, moving the now finished chips onto the table again. "Even in our first aid training we learn that, in case some misguided but well meaning member of the public calls us when someone has a fit."
"We are only halfway through, and they've killed two people, paralysed one for life, and broken a kids jaw. Or should have anyway. I don't even know that they have advisers. They just have two mice, an ant and a shrew all sitting around a tumble weed." He bursts out laughing at that, and she ends up laughing with him.
"That was certainly one of your more inventive ones."
"Well, it winds me up."
.
As they near the end of the episode, she realises that her husband has been quiet for the last ten minutes. A quick glance down, and she sees that his eyes are closed, his breathing steady.
She should wake him up, and take him to bed. She should go to bed herself.
But its so rare for him to drop off like this, his face smooth without the lines of fear that she so often sees there. Its so rare for his hand to be round her waist because he put it there in his sleep, rather than he needs it there to feel any semblance of safety.
So she shifts into a slightly more comfortable position, before switching the TV off from the remote and closing her eyes as well.
Their numb limbs won't thank them when they do wake, but if James looks to be getting a decent night's sleep for once, then she'll put up with a little discomfort.