Convalescence | Primeval
Word Count: 2606
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of canon deaths
Summary: After Alex is shot during Helen's attack on the ARC (S3 E3), Lester orders her to take a holiday to recuperate.
The air above the tarmac wavered as Alex disembarked the aeroplane. It seemed an age since the last time she'd felt the sun on her face and she welcomed the heady warmth of the afternoon. She'd been a teenager the last time she'd visited Lanzarote, but she remembered it as being very laid-back - the perfect choice for the week of R&R that James had ordered her to take.
It was three weeks since Helen's attack on the ARC. Alex had been allowed out of hospital the following day, once the doctors were sure James's impromptu surgery wasn't going to have any undue physical effects. There wasn't much they could do about the mental ones. She was glad that she lived alone, because the nightmares were frequent, and it hadn't helped having to go over things time and again during the inquest.
Maybe she did need a break. However, she knew that she wasn't the only one, but it would take more than his ex being shot, losing a team member, and having the ARC blow up to slow James Lester down. Especially seeing as Helen was still on the loose, though Alex had no idea how he planned on hunting a woman who could travel through time.
Nick's death had hit James harder than he was letting on, but he'd not talked to her about any of it. Whether she needed to convalesce or not, she'd rather be back in London, at his side and helping, but he'd dismissed her. Got her out of the way. She'd spent the entire flight trying to understand rather than feeling angry and hurt. Not easy when he was shutting her out.
She caught a taxi from the airport to the villa complex she was staying at. Each villa had their own garden and pool, though she'd not be swimming since her doctor had disallowed that particular activity for another three weeks. Still, the view from the decking was spectacular; green hills swept down to a tawny beach and the aquamarine Atlantic Ocean beyond.
Alex closed her eyes and breathed in the briny air, then sighed in contentment. She'd six days before she had to head back to the UK - days she planned on spending either on the lounger by the pool, down on the beach, or wandering the surrounding countryside. Despite her previous reservations, now she was on the island she relished the chance to relax completely, without having to worry about dinosaur incursions or Helen bloody Cutter.
She headed back inside and unpacked, showered, and then put on the bikini she'd spent hours online shopping for. The high-waisted bottoms covered the angry red pucker of flesh over her left hip. It wasn't quite a case of out of sight, out of mind, but she did feel somewhat less self-conscious about her appearance. She tied her hair into a high ponytail and dropped herself onto the lounger.
A soft breeze whispered through the palm trees. Gulls cried over the beach and the sound of waves carried. A sense of peace settled over Alex - the first true taste of it she'd had since walking into the ARC. God, was it really almost a year? So much had happened; Helen, Leek, Stephen, and now Nick. And she'd thought that James running the place would be the worst thing she'd have to deal with.
She loosed a low groan - she was supposed to be relaxing, and not chewing over things she couldn't change. Yet she only managed to go roughly five minutes before her train of thought circled back around to the ARC and those she'd left behind.
Her main concern was Connor, who'd been devastated by the loss of his friend and mentor. She and Abby had literally held him up at Nick's funeral. Now her heart ached at what he'd been through and guilt nibbled at not being there for him now.
And then there was James, and everything that lay unspoken between them.
Alex gave up on relaxing. Her mind was just too full. She went back inside the villa, pulled a sundress over her bikini, and slipped on a pair of sandals before walking the short distance to the nearby town of Arrieta. There she found a distraction in the small bakery-café, where she ordered smoked salmon on Mediterranean vegetables and couscous, and a large glass of white wine.
After dinner, she wandered the market, where little shops sold jewellery, handmade furniture, and clothing. She loved the mix of culture on display, Spanish mingling with Indonesian, which most of the wares being genuine instead of tourist tat. She bought a straw hat and a gorgeous black shawl embroidered with red roses and gold leaves, which came in handy as evening set in and brought a cooler breeze.
She went down to the beach and took off her sandals to walk barefoot along the edge of where the ocean met the land. The breeze pulled at her hair and the shawl. It was gloriously refreshing. Following the beach to the harbour, she paused to watch the boats bob and sway, the clank of their rigging echoing the cry of the gulls swooping in from above. There was a tiny surf shack still open despite the hour, and she bought a shell necklace and a postcard featuring the harbour.
Back at the villa, she wrote "Wish you were here, A" and James's home address. She'd send it in the morning. Until then, there was a bottle of red wine and the Kindle app on her iPad to keep her entertained.
Over the next few days, she went back to Arrieta and visited a few more restaurants. Took a boat trip. Caught a bus as far as the hot springs, but decided against a climb up the volcano because she wasn't sure if her side could take that strain. She remembered there'd been a Doctor Who episode filmed on Lanzarote and, after a Google search to remind herself which one, bought and watched it. Pity the location was in the hills, as she was tempted to visit it, but again her physical limitations were something she was in a hurry to test.
She didn't send the postcard. If she'd written something else, she might have done, but the short message was too close to the truth. She missed him. Then, she'd missed him since the day she'd fled, Helen's poisonous words in her ears. She hadn't been fit to be a politician's wife. Still wasn't. Only James hadn't gone that route after all, and her sacrifice had been for nothing.
She detested Helen Cutter with a passion. The blasted woman had wrecked her relationship for no reason other than she could. She'd bought Leek and nearly killed James. Had killed Nick and was responsible for Stephen's death. The destruction of the ARC. If she were here, Alex would happily toss the bitch into a volcano.
So much for rest and recuperation.
The knock at the door startled her. She stared at it for almost a minute before a second knock cannoned her into motion. She opened it and her state of surprise only deepened.
"James."
He gave her a rueful smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can I come in?"
Alex let her gaze slide down. He'd lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, but the starched shirt and braces told her he'd flown out straight from Whitehall. Though his expression was carefully bland, she knew him too well not to notice the taut lines bracketing his mouth and the tension in his shoulders. She stepped back and held the door for him.
"I was just about to open a bottle of wine," she told him. "Or there's coffee, if you'd prefer."
"Wine sounds fabulous."
He followed her to the kitchenette. He'd something to say - James Lester would not fly over two thousand miles from London to Lanzarote on a whim - but Alex knew better than to press. She poured two glasses of wine and handed one over. Smiled at the blissful expression that settled on his face as he took a long sip.
"Needed that?"
"Rather."
"Long flight, huh?"
"Long week." He grimaced at the confession. "Sorry, I didn't mean to trouble you with that."
She set down her glass, then removed his and took his hands. She had to duck a little to catch his gaze. "It's no trouble, James. Stop trying to handle everything on your own."
"You've enough to deal with."
"Starting with a pig-headed civil servant who refuses to accept any help," she snapped, then leant in to kiss the sting from her words. "I'm not made of glass, James. You don't need to wrap me in cotton wool and put me out of harm's reach."
He flinched and she sighed. Wound her arms around his neck. He stiffened and tears burned her eyes. If he'd just bend a little...
"I can't forget it," he said quietly. "I've tried, but I can't. The stewardess shut the bloody plane door and the crack of the lock." He shuddered and Alex held him tighter. "That, and I was back three weeks with you bleeding out. Having to cut that damn bullet out."
"You did what had to be done, James. You saved my life."
"Knowing that hasn't made it easier to live with." He pushed her away, just a little. The hand on the small of her back stopped her going anywhere. She closed her eyes at the brush of his fingers against her cheek. "I suppose we should have talked about it before now, but things kept on getting in the way. I didn't want to start and not be able to finish."
Hope flared in Alex's stomach. "Does that mean you're not planning on flying back to London any time soon?"
"I was hoping to beg the use of the couch."
She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you an idiot or just being deliberately obtuse? I'm not going to make you sleep on the damn couch, James." Then she shifted closer again and tangled her fingers in his hair. "That saying, you'd not be sleeping in my bed, either."
James blinked, then a slow smile curved his mouth. "No?"
"No," she told him firmly. "Not when I have you all to myself for three days."
"Shouldn't we talk about... things?"
They probably should, but Alex had something else in mind and it was rather pressing. She shook her head. "I think everything got covered when you ordered me not to die on you. You're too intelligent a man not to know how I feel about you, James. Helen might have changed time, but she could never alter that. Now I'm assuming by the fact you're here that you've decided to stop fannying around and do something about it."
"Eloquent as always," he noted with a wry smile, which then tempered. "You are still healing, Alex. I don't want to do anything that would jeopardise that."
"I'm just to avoid putting too much pressure on it." She tugged his head down and teased his lips, determined to erode his concern. "There is a work around or two, you know. Such as spooning."
James raised an eyebrow. "Been researching, huh?"
"I may have looked a few things up." She stepped back and wound his tie around her hand. Gave it an experimental tug. "Want to help me test out a couple of theories?"
His hungry look was all the answer she needed.
Much, much later, Alex lay on the bed watching the sun sink into the ocean. James's fingers circled the scar over her hip. His sigh whispered over her skin. She put her hand over his.
"Quit it," she said, tone mild but her voice firm. "You have to know I don't hold it against you."
"Yes." He dropped a quick kiss on her stomach. "I don't regret doing it. I just hate that it was necessary."
"I'm okay, James. It'll heal."
"I know."
"So quit it."
He gave a soft laugh and scooted up the bed. She noted how carefully he leaned over her. She would heal, but she wasn't there yet and he knew that as well. He kissed her mouth and she momentarily lost her train of thought.
He could still do that to her.
"You're incredible," he murmured, and a flurry of emotions crossed his face, none of which he seemed at ease with. Alex wasn't sure when he'd become so strait-laced, but she'd a horrible suspicion it was largely to do with her disappearance. "So damn brave. The ARC... It took a lot of very fast-talking, but Whitehall grudgingly agreed that it was in the nation's best interest for the ARC to continue. We have to discover what Helen's up to, and where the artefact fits in with it."
He took a deep breath. "But we've lost Nick, and Connor's barely holding it together, and purely on a professional level, I need you. There's a personal one as well, but that's besides the point."
"Not really," she interjected.
"For the moment it is."
She rolled her eyes. "If you're asking me to come back, can I remind you that I'd every intention of staying and you were the one who insisted I needed a break? You pushed me out of the way, James. This one isn't on me."
He flopped on to his back with a groan. "I know, Alex, and I regretted that the second you were gone. It was just so much to deal with. Too much."
She flinched and wriggled onto her side, ignoring the twinge in her hip to lay her head on his shoulder and wind an arm across his stomach. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, I was just frustrated that you wouldn't let me help. I didn't consider that you couldn't."
His hand found hers and he linked his fingers with hers. "I can't help the notion that I put you in danger. That it was my miscalculation that resulted in your being hurt. In Nick."
"None of that was your fault, James. It's easy to look back and see the pattern, but at the time no one knew what she was up to." Alex huffed. "I'm still not entirely sure, beyond her being determined to bring the ARC down regardless of the collateral damage."
"That's what I'm afraid of." He shifted and kissed her forehead. "I can't guarantee you'd be safe if you came back."
"Can you guarantee that if I don't?"
He sighed. "No."
"There we go, then."
That settled, Alex moved off her aching side. Which just happened to involve straddling James's legs. She slid her hands over his chest, her right following the faint silver line. They both had their scars now - proof, like they needed it, that the anomalies could be used by those twisted enough. Leek had imagined them to be a path to power. God only knew what Helen was up to.
She met his eyes and knew his thoughts were along the same lines. It occurred to her that they both needed to convalesce, and to do that, they couldn't think about what was waiting for them back in London. A couple of carefree days with worry and grief and concern for the future didn't figure. A small window of opportunity to heal not just their battered psyches but also their fractured relationship.
In the morning, there was an island to explore as a distraction. Tonight, though? She grinned and leaned down to kiss James deeply.
She had warned him that he'd not be sleeping in her bed, after all.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of canon deaths
Summary: After Alex is shot during Helen's attack on the ARC (S3 E3), Lester orders her to take a holiday to recuperate.
The air above the tarmac wavered as Alex disembarked the aeroplane. It seemed an age since the last time she'd felt the sun on her face and she welcomed the heady warmth of the afternoon. She'd been a teenager the last time she'd visited Lanzarote, but she remembered it as being very laid-back - the perfect choice for the week of R&R that James had ordered her to take.
It was three weeks since Helen's attack on the ARC. Alex had been allowed out of hospital the following day, once the doctors were sure James's impromptu surgery wasn't going to have any undue physical effects. There wasn't much they could do about the mental ones. She was glad that she lived alone, because the nightmares were frequent, and it hadn't helped having to go over things time and again during the inquest.
Maybe she did need a break. However, she knew that she wasn't the only one, but it would take more than his ex being shot, losing a team member, and having the ARC blow up to slow James Lester down. Especially seeing as Helen was still on the loose, though Alex had no idea how he planned on hunting a woman who could travel through time.
Nick's death had hit James harder than he was letting on, but he'd not talked to her about any of it. Whether she needed to convalesce or not, she'd rather be back in London, at his side and helping, but he'd dismissed her. Got her out of the way. She'd spent the entire flight trying to understand rather than feeling angry and hurt. Not easy when he was shutting her out.
She caught a taxi from the airport to the villa complex she was staying at. Each villa had their own garden and pool, though she'd not be swimming since her doctor had disallowed that particular activity for another three weeks. Still, the view from the decking was spectacular; green hills swept down to a tawny beach and the aquamarine Atlantic Ocean beyond.
Alex closed her eyes and breathed in the briny air, then sighed in contentment. She'd six days before she had to head back to the UK - days she planned on spending either on the lounger by the pool, down on the beach, or wandering the surrounding countryside. Despite her previous reservations, now she was on the island she relished the chance to relax completely, without having to worry about dinosaur incursions or Helen bloody Cutter.
She headed back inside and unpacked, showered, and then put on the bikini she'd spent hours online shopping for. The high-waisted bottoms covered the angry red pucker of flesh over her left hip. It wasn't quite a case of out of sight, out of mind, but she did feel somewhat less self-conscious about her appearance. She tied her hair into a high ponytail and dropped herself onto the lounger.
A soft breeze whispered through the palm trees. Gulls cried over the beach and the sound of waves carried. A sense of peace settled over Alex - the first true taste of it she'd had since walking into the ARC. God, was it really almost a year? So much had happened; Helen, Leek, Stephen, and now Nick. And she'd thought that James running the place would be the worst thing she'd have to deal with.
She loosed a low groan - she was supposed to be relaxing, and not chewing over things she couldn't change. Yet she only managed to go roughly five minutes before her train of thought circled back around to the ARC and those she'd left behind.
Her main concern was Connor, who'd been devastated by the loss of his friend and mentor. She and Abby had literally held him up at Nick's funeral. Now her heart ached at what he'd been through and guilt nibbled at not being there for him now.
And then there was James, and everything that lay unspoken between them.
Alex gave up on relaxing. Her mind was just too full. She went back inside the villa, pulled a sundress over her bikini, and slipped on a pair of sandals before walking the short distance to the nearby town of Arrieta. There she found a distraction in the small bakery-café, where she ordered smoked salmon on Mediterranean vegetables and couscous, and a large glass of white wine.
After dinner, she wandered the market, where little shops sold jewellery, handmade furniture, and clothing. She loved the mix of culture on display, Spanish mingling with Indonesian, which most of the wares being genuine instead of tourist tat. She bought a straw hat and a gorgeous black shawl embroidered with red roses and gold leaves, which came in handy as evening set in and brought a cooler breeze.
She went down to the beach and took off her sandals to walk barefoot along the edge of where the ocean met the land. The breeze pulled at her hair and the shawl. It was gloriously refreshing. Following the beach to the harbour, she paused to watch the boats bob and sway, the clank of their rigging echoing the cry of the gulls swooping in from above. There was a tiny surf shack still open despite the hour, and she bought a shell necklace and a postcard featuring the harbour.
Back at the villa, she wrote "Wish you were here, A" and James's home address. She'd send it in the morning. Until then, there was a bottle of red wine and the Kindle app on her iPad to keep her entertained.
Over the next few days, she went back to Arrieta and visited a few more restaurants. Took a boat trip. Caught a bus as far as the hot springs, but decided against a climb up the volcano because she wasn't sure if her side could take that strain. She remembered there'd been a Doctor Who episode filmed on Lanzarote and, after a Google search to remind herself which one, bought and watched it. Pity the location was in the hills, as she was tempted to visit it, but again her physical limitations were something she was in a hurry to test.
She didn't send the postcard. If she'd written something else, she might have done, but the short message was too close to the truth. She missed him. Then, she'd missed him since the day she'd fled, Helen's poisonous words in her ears. She hadn't been fit to be a politician's wife. Still wasn't. Only James hadn't gone that route after all, and her sacrifice had been for nothing.
She detested Helen Cutter with a passion. The blasted woman had wrecked her relationship for no reason other than she could. She'd bought Leek and nearly killed James. Had killed Nick and was responsible for Stephen's death. The destruction of the ARC. If she were here, Alex would happily toss the bitch into a volcano.
So much for rest and recuperation.
The knock at the door startled her. She stared at it for almost a minute before a second knock cannoned her into motion. She opened it and her state of surprise only deepened.
"James."
He gave her a rueful smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can I come in?"
Alex let her gaze slide down. He'd lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, but the starched shirt and braces told her he'd flown out straight from Whitehall. Though his expression was carefully bland, she knew him too well not to notice the taut lines bracketing his mouth and the tension in his shoulders. She stepped back and held the door for him.
"I was just about to open a bottle of wine," she told him. "Or there's coffee, if you'd prefer."
"Wine sounds fabulous."
He followed her to the kitchenette. He'd something to say - James Lester would not fly over two thousand miles from London to Lanzarote on a whim - but Alex knew better than to press. She poured two glasses of wine and handed one over. Smiled at the blissful expression that settled on his face as he took a long sip.
"Needed that?"
"Rather."
"Long flight, huh?"
"Long week." He grimaced at the confession. "Sorry, I didn't mean to trouble you with that."
She set down her glass, then removed his and took his hands. She had to duck a little to catch his gaze. "It's no trouble, James. Stop trying to handle everything on your own."
"You've enough to deal with."
"Starting with a pig-headed civil servant who refuses to accept any help," she snapped, then leant in to kiss the sting from her words. "I'm not made of glass, James. You don't need to wrap me in cotton wool and put me out of harm's reach."
He flinched and she sighed. Wound her arms around his neck. He stiffened and tears burned her eyes. If he'd just bend a little...
"I can't forget it," he said quietly. "I've tried, but I can't. The stewardess shut the bloody plane door and the crack of the lock." He shuddered and Alex held him tighter. "That, and I was back three weeks with you bleeding out. Having to cut that damn bullet out."
"You did what had to be done, James. You saved my life."
"Knowing that hasn't made it easier to live with." He pushed her away, just a little. The hand on the small of her back stopped her going anywhere. She closed her eyes at the brush of his fingers against her cheek. "I suppose we should have talked about it before now, but things kept on getting in the way. I didn't want to start and not be able to finish."
Hope flared in Alex's stomach. "Does that mean you're not planning on flying back to London any time soon?"
"I was hoping to beg the use of the couch."
She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you an idiot or just being deliberately obtuse? I'm not going to make you sleep on the damn couch, James." Then she shifted closer again and tangled her fingers in his hair. "That saying, you'd not be sleeping in my bed, either."
James blinked, then a slow smile curved his mouth. "No?"
"No," she told him firmly. "Not when I have you all to myself for three days."
"Shouldn't we talk about... things?"
They probably should, but Alex had something else in mind and it was rather pressing. She shook her head. "I think everything got covered when you ordered me not to die on you. You're too intelligent a man not to know how I feel about you, James. Helen might have changed time, but she could never alter that. Now I'm assuming by the fact you're here that you've decided to stop fannying around and do something about it."
"Eloquent as always," he noted with a wry smile, which then tempered. "You are still healing, Alex. I don't want to do anything that would jeopardise that."
"I'm just to avoid putting too much pressure on it." She tugged his head down and teased his lips, determined to erode his concern. "There is a work around or two, you know. Such as spooning."
James raised an eyebrow. "Been researching, huh?"
"I may have looked a few things up." She stepped back and wound his tie around her hand. Gave it an experimental tug. "Want to help me test out a couple of theories?"
His hungry look was all the answer she needed.
Much, much later, Alex lay on the bed watching the sun sink into the ocean. James's fingers circled the scar over her hip. His sigh whispered over her skin. She put her hand over his.
"Quit it," she said, tone mild but her voice firm. "You have to know I don't hold it against you."
"Yes." He dropped a quick kiss on her stomach. "I don't regret doing it. I just hate that it was necessary."
"I'm okay, James. It'll heal."
"I know."
"So quit it."
He gave a soft laugh and scooted up the bed. She noted how carefully he leaned over her. She would heal, but she wasn't there yet and he knew that as well. He kissed her mouth and she momentarily lost her train of thought.
He could still do that to her.
"You're incredible," he murmured, and a flurry of emotions crossed his face, none of which he seemed at ease with. Alex wasn't sure when he'd become so strait-laced, but she'd a horrible suspicion it was largely to do with her disappearance. "So damn brave. The ARC... It took a lot of very fast-talking, but Whitehall grudgingly agreed that it was in the nation's best interest for the ARC to continue. We have to discover what Helen's up to, and where the artefact fits in with it."
He took a deep breath. "But we've lost Nick, and Connor's barely holding it together, and purely on a professional level, I need you. There's a personal one as well, but that's besides the point."
"Not really," she interjected.
"For the moment it is."
She rolled her eyes. "If you're asking me to come back, can I remind you that I'd every intention of staying and you were the one who insisted I needed a break? You pushed me out of the way, James. This one isn't on me."
He flopped on to his back with a groan. "I know, Alex, and I regretted that the second you were gone. It was just so much to deal with. Too much."
She flinched and wriggled onto her side, ignoring the twinge in her hip to lay her head on his shoulder and wind an arm across his stomach. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, I was just frustrated that you wouldn't let me help. I didn't consider that you couldn't."
His hand found hers and he linked his fingers with hers. "I can't help the notion that I put you in danger. That it was my miscalculation that resulted in your being hurt. In Nick."
"None of that was your fault, James. It's easy to look back and see the pattern, but at the time no one knew what she was up to." Alex huffed. "I'm still not entirely sure, beyond her being determined to bring the ARC down regardless of the collateral damage."
"That's what I'm afraid of." He shifted and kissed her forehead. "I can't guarantee you'd be safe if you came back."
"Can you guarantee that if I don't?"
He sighed. "No."
"There we go, then."
That settled, Alex moved off her aching side. Which just happened to involve straddling James's legs. She slid her hands over his chest, her right following the faint silver line. They both had their scars now - proof, like they needed it, that the anomalies could be used by those twisted enough. Leek had imagined them to be a path to power. God only knew what Helen was up to.
She met his eyes and knew his thoughts were along the same lines. It occurred to her that they both needed to convalesce, and to do that, they couldn't think about what was waiting for them back in London. A couple of carefree days with worry and grief and concern for the future didn't figure. A small window of opportunity to heal not just their battered psyches but also their fractured relationship.
In the morning, there was an island to explore as a distraction. Tonight, though? She grinned and leaned down to kiss James deeply.
She had warned him that he'd not be sleeping in her bed, after all.