Lewis Smallfandombang Fic: Terra Incognita 7/7
Story: Terra Incognita
Author: wendymr
Artist:
wallflower18
Rated: Mature
Characters: Robbie Lewis, James Hathaway, Jean Innocent, Laura Hobson, Julie Lockhart, original characters
Summary: The two of them have always been more effective together than apart.
Warning: [Under spoiler cut (PLEASE READ if you are prone to triggers)]
References and some descriptions through much of the story to physical and sexual violence against women, and one 'live action' scene containing threat of violence, all in the context of criminal acts. May be triggery for some.
Many, many thanks to my brilliant artist,
wallflower18, for the gorgeous banners, chapter headers and icon. Please, if you like her artwork, send her kudos and compliments! Also much appreciation to my BRs, uniquepov and lindenharp, for both editing assistance and cheerleading as I was writing. And thanks to the organisers of smallfandombang for all their work in organising this fic event.
Chapter 1: Strange Land ~ Chapter 2: Initiation ~ Chapter 3: A Fine Evening for a Stroll ~ Chapter 4: Going Home ~ Chapter 5: Exeunt ~ Chapter 6: Civilian Life
Chapter 7: Terra Firma
The conversation with Lyn is difficult. She’s upset, not just by the fact that her dad’s lying unconscious in hospital, but also because she wasn’t the first to be informed.
“It’s not that I have a problem with the fact that you and my dad are close, James. It’s that it shouldn’t have been left to you to decide whether or not I get told!”
“I know, and you can beat him up about it when he’s back on his feet. I will be, too, for what it’s worth.”
That makes her smile, but she’s teary again when she asks for more details of Robbie’s injuries. James tells her what he knows, and finds himself drawing on all the skills he used as a detective when talking to family members. As she calms, her questions become more technical, and he’s reminded that she’s a nurse, so he suggests that she phone the hospital later and ask for Dr Hamza.
“Do you think I should come down?” she asks then.
He takes a deep breath, then a draw on his cigarette. “I really don’t think he’s in any sort of danger. The doctor is pretty sure he’ll wake within the next twelve hours, and then there’ll just be the other injuries on top of what’ll most likely be a very bad headache. Maybe concussion.”
“You said his leg is injured. And a hand. He’ll need help when he goes home.” Yes, and James has every intention of providing that help - but if Lyn wants to, she takes precedence, doesn’t she? But when she speaks again, she sounds torn. “I’d come down, but we’re so busy at work and already short-staffed because of flu. I’d be leaving them in a terrible fix.”
“No problem. Dunno if he’s told you, but I’m between occupations at the moment, and more than capable of stepping into the breach. He’ll no doubt complain about being mothered, but I never listen when he complains.”
She laughs through the worry that’s still in her voice. “You’re good for him. I was really sorry when he told me you weren’t his sergeant any more.”
“Sorry.” It’s not really an apology, and he is not going to let Robbie’s daughter make him feel guilty. “It’s not as if we don’t see each other, though. We’re still friends.”
“I’m glad about that - and that you’re with him now. Keep in touch, won’t you?” He promises he will. “And, James? Come up here with him some time, would you? I’d really like us to meet.”
He makes non-committal noises and then ends the call; after all, he has no idea whether Robbie would want that at all.
Back in Robbie’s room, there’s no change in his condition. Dr Hobson drops in a few minutes later and exchanges pleasantries of a sort while examining Robbie’s chart and the monitoring machine. James isn’t sure whether he’s just being over-sensitive, but he can’t help suspecting that she blames him for not having been there with Robbie. I had very good reasons for not wanting to be a policeman any more, he’d like to tell her, but he won’t. Can’t.
Can’t imagine ever telling anyone the full story. But then the only person whose opinion on the matter counts already knows.
Laura does squeeze his shoulder as she’s leaving. “Chin up, James. He really is going to be fine, from what I can see.”
He catches her hand briefly. “Thank you.”
She gives him a lightning-fast smile. “I’ll look in again later. Call me if you need to.”
His phone beeps a little later; email, not a text. It’s from Innocent, and he has no idea how she got his personal email address, but she’s not a Chief Superintendent for nothing. The email says simply, Thought you might be interested in this, and there’s a video attachment. It’s the CCTV film from the attack on Robbie - so much for him not being entitled to information about police investigations.
The video captures the scene very well - they were clearly fortunate with camera locations. It’s all over in less than a minute, and it’s very obvious that Lockhart couldn’t possibly have done anything to help, and that there was no way that Robbie could have avoided getting hurt. If James himself had been there... no, he wouldn’t, couldn’t have done anything Lockhart didn’t.
That, at least, makes him feel better.
He waves his phone in Robbie’s direction. “Just in case you try to make me feel guilty as well, Inspector Lewis, I’ve got proof now. You were just taking stupid risks. Which you’d better promise not to do again, or you can whistle for your home-cooked breakfasts while you’re recovering.”
There’s still no change in a couple of hours’ time, when medical staff arrive and shoo him out so they can “make Mr Lewis more comfortable.” He’s advised to get something to eat and come back in half an hour. He gets a sandwich from the Pret а̀ Manger downstairs and half-heartedly chews on it, then gives it up in favour of a fag. A second cigarette and a quick phone call to Lyn, letting her know there’s still no news, and he’s ready to go back upstairs.
“You never told me,” he says as he sits down again. “Did you stay all night when I was unconscious? But you wouldn’t have. Not after everything. And besides, you were dressed for work when I saw you. Strange, though, that you happened to be there right at the moment I woke up.”
He’ll be there when Robbie wakes up. There’s no question whatsoever about that.
Later, a hesitant knock at the door makes him glance around. DC Lockhart’s standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen when she sees him. “Sarge! I didn’t expect-”
A brief glance is enough to see the anxiety and guilt in her eyes. “James is fine, Julie. I’m not a copper any more, remember.” He reaches back to another chair against the wall, pulling it forward. “Come on in.”
She sits awkwardly next to him. “How is he? No-one will tell me anything.”
He smiles slightly. “As Himself would tell you, you have to learn to ask in the right way. He’s fine, they tell me. Skull like an anvil. Knowing him, he’ll wake up in an hour or two and demand the arrest report.”
“Already written,” she says, a little defensively. “The Chief Super wanted it.”
“Julie.” She turns to face him. “It wasn’t your fault. And there was nothing more you could have done.”
“How do you know?” Her hands twist in her lap. “You weren’t there.”
Someone else who thinks he shouldn’t have resigned? But it’s not important. James covers Julie’s hands with his own for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve seen the CCTV. You did everything you could have.”
She looks at him for a long moment, as if trying to verify that he’s not lying to her, and then nods. “Thanks, Sar- James.”
He gives her a quick smile. “When are you taking your sergeant’s exams? Don’t look so surprised,” he adds as her eyes widen. “I know Lewis has suggested it, and he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t think you were ready.”
They talk for a while longer, and then James sends her away; it’s already almost ten o’clock, “and you’ll have half of his work to do in the morning, as well as your own,” he points out.
Julie’s footsteps have barely faded to silence when there’s a light tap at the door. “I always knew you’d make an outstanding senior officer.”
“Ma’am.” He stands. “How long have-”
“Long enough.” Innocent comes in and studies him, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come back? You’d have to reapply, but a recommendation from me would short-circuit a lot of the process. You’d be an excellent trainer, if you really can’t stand front-line policing.”
He shakes his head. “While I appreciate your confidence in me, Ma’am, I really am sure. I’m starting an MPhil at Balliol in January.”
“Oh, well, it was worth a try.” She smiles faintly. “And Robbie’s still speaking to you?”
He can’t stop the smirk. “He gave me a reference.”
“Ah.” The single syllable appears to convey much more meaning. But she changes the subject, asking about Robbie and whether James has spoken to Lyn. When she leaves ten minutes later, she squeezes James’s arm. “I’m glad he’s got you to look after him.”
You’ve got it the wrong way around, he wants to say, but discretion wins out.
Once she’s gone, he pulls his chair closer to Robbie’s bed and lays his hand on the cover. He’s been talking to Robbie, yes, but everything he’s ever heard about unconsciousness and coma suggests that touch is also important. Pressing his hand to Robbie’s cheek feels too intimate, though - fine with him, but not with Robbie. He settles for a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and gets comfortable in the chair, prepared for a long night.
______________________________________
His head’s bloody thumping and his leg hurts, but there’s a familiar, soothing voice in his ear and a comforting touch to his shoulder. After a few minutes, Robbie forces his eyes open and manages a smile. “They let you in, did they?”
James starts, his hand immediately slipping away, and Robbie regrets letting the lad know he’s awake. “Apparently I am your emergency contact. That’s going to cause a bit of gossip around the nick, I should think.”
“Don’t give a rat’s arse,” he retorts, and pulls his arm out from below the covers. He rests his hand on James’s arm, and immediately feels better, headache regardless.
James glances at his hand, then pulls his arm free from Robbie’s grasp. Shit, he overstepped the mark there, didn’t he? But then his hand’s taken in a warm, firm hold and, as he shifts his gaze to James’s face, his friend’s looking down at him, eyes fond.
“You need a shave,” he points out, but what he’s really saying is that he knows James was here all night. He should be irritated with the bloke for that, but he can’t be. Not when he remembers spending most of a night in a hospital room himself a few years ago.
“Idle layabout,” James says with a shrug. “Got to live up to the stereotype.” His lips twitch.
Robbie shakes his head, then winces as pain stabs him. James’s hand tightens around his in sympathy.
“I saw the CCTV, you know,” James says after a moment, voice soft. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I? You had to do something reckless.”
“Oi,” he protests, but without heat.
They stay like that for a few minutes, hands joined, not speaking, until James takes a deep breath and pushes back his chair. “I promised a few people I’d let them know when you wake. And the doctor will probably want to see you.”
“People?”
“Lyn. Innocent. Julie.”
“Lyn?” Bugger it, he doesn’t want her worried, especially not now.
James stands, hands in his jeans pockets. “How would you feel if she called and told you she’d been unconscious and in hospital after an accident, and she only told you after the event?”
He huffs. “Pissed off.”
“Exactly.” James’s lips twitch briefly. “I’ve been keeping her updated. She’s fine, so you don’t need to worry.”
Bloody fantastic. Now his life’s being organised by his ex-sergeant. All the same... “Thanks,” he calls as James leaves the room.
The poking and prodding starts a few minutes later, and much to his disgust he’s told that he needs to stay in another twenty-four hours or so for observation. The pain in his thigh’s getting worse, though, so his protests are more muted than they would otherwise be, and he doesn’t complain too much about the injection he’s given either.
He’s drifting off to sleep when a faintly-mocking voice says, “Couldn’t even wait for me to get back, could you?” In his imagination, he gives James the finger, but dreams about his hand being held.
______________________________________
“You’re not authorised to drive this any more.” Robbie stops beside his official BMW a day later, hesitating as James opens the passenger door for him.
James raises an eyebrow at Robbie and silently gestures for him to get into the car and stop arguing. “It’s fine. Innocent approved it. Said she was pretty sure you’d refuse to be driven home in a uniform car, and I had to agree.” Of course, Lockhart could have come to take her governor home, but neither he nor Innocent had suggested that logical solution.
Robbie gets in, a bit stiffly as he favours his injured thigh. “She’s right there, but how can she approve it?”
“She told me she’d just list me as a family member, for insurance purposes.” James starts the engine as Robbie buckles himself in.
“Well, she’s not wrong there, either.” At that comment, James glances sharply at Robbie. He’d thought it was a bit of a stretch when Innocent suggested it, and hadn’t remotely expected Robbie to endorse it. He didn’t argue too much, all the same, because Robbie’s going to need someone to drive him around for a bit, and do his shopping and so on, and James would rather it be him than anyone else. “Ye daft bugger,” Robbie adds, clearly seeing his surprise. “You’re as much family to me as Lyn is. And don’t imagine that means I think of you as a son, because I don’t.”
So how does Robbie think of him? A friend, yes; no surprise there. Obviously a close friend, given the offer to stay with him for the week or so until he moves into his college rooms, and occasionally in the future - and, of course, listing him as his emergency contact. But how does that equate to considering him family?
He doesn’t ask. It’s not the sort of thing they talk about, it is? Instead, he concentrates on driving.
“Here, this isn’t the way home,” Robbie objects a couple of minutes later when James takes an unexpected turning.
“Taking a detour first,” he says, without explaining further. Two minutes later, he pulls into the cemetery car park. Robbie gives him a sharp glance. “Thought you might want to come here first,” James says, getting out of the car. It’s the nineteenth, after all; the worst of the anniversaries.
“Should’ve known you’d remember,” Robbie says, accepting the hand James offers him as he gets awkwardly to his feet. “Thanks, mate. I was thinking of asking you if you wouldn’t mind, later...” Abruptly, Robbie looks as if he’s remembered something and it’s made him unhappy. “Ah well, let’s go in anyway,” he says after a moment, pushing the car door shut.
“Just a sec.” Loosening his grip on Robbie’s arm, James opens the back door of the BMW and reaches inside, bringing out a bouquet of winter roses and lilies.
Robbie stares, brows creased in surprise - and something else. “You-” he begins, then trails off, clearly moved.
“They’re from Lyn too,” James says quickly, just in case this is too much of an intrusion. He knows Robbie never visits his wife’s grave without bringing flowers, though, and James had no intention of making this the first omission.
Robbie just looks at him for a long moment, then touches his arm. “Thank you.”
Robbie leans heavily on his arm as they walk into the cemetery, but once they’re at Val’s grave James steps away to give him privacy, going back outside the gate and smoking while he waits, but still keeping an eye on Robbie so he can be ready when his friend wants to leave.
______________________________________
James parks outside Robbie’s building and turns to him. “I’m afraid I’ve taken a couple of liberties.”
Robbie quirks an eyebrow. He’s pretty sure he’s not going to have a problem with whatever it is, especially after what James has just done for him, but nervous James is generally amusing to watch.
“I got some shopping in before coming to pick you up.” Robbie barely resists the temptation to roll his eyes. Does James seriously think he’d be upset about that? “Also, considering the injuries to your leg and hand, I thought I should stay with you for a few days to make sure you’re okay. Before you say it, I will endeavour not to fuss. Too much,” he adds, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Fine with me,” Robbie says, and enjoys the reaction his casual tone has on James, who was clearly expecting to be told off. “In fact, you might as well just move in now instead of when your lease is up. It’s only a couple of weeks, and what else would you be doing for Christmas anyway?”
James pauses in the act of getting out of the car. “I assumed you’d be going to Manchester.”
“Assumed wrong, didn’t you? Not that I’d be fit to drive by next week anyway, but I wasn’t going up this year.” And he’d intended to tell James that, and invite him over for Christmas, but he hadn’t got around to it, had he? Typical.
James is a trouble-free guest, not to mention handy to have around, given Robbie’s injuries, and within a couple of days it feels completely normal to have him around the flat all the time. They’re not doing things together constantly - James has his laptop and spends a few hours each day absorbed in some work or other, no doubt to do with his research proposal. Robbie finds himself napping some of the time on the first day, and in the morning of the second Innocent phones.
After she’s asked how he is, she gets to the point. “I’m sending around some cold cases for you to review. Knowing you, I’m guessing you’re already bored senseless, and I’m not having you trying to come into work. Just do me one favour.”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“If James Hathaway happens to be with you, please try to remember that he’s a civilian now and therefore not entitled to be privy to confidential police files?”
Robbie gives appropriate reassurances, though he decides as he’s working through the cases that asking James for his opinion on certain details doesn’t really count. Nor does summarising information for him so that they can discuss the case. After all, as long as he doesn’t actually allow James to read the file, he’s still obeying Innocent’s injunction, right?
By the day before Christmas Eve, it feels so natural and right to have James living in the flat with him that he’s seriously thinking again about an idle thought he’s had now and again since deciding to move to this place. But he holds back; best to be absolutely sure, isn’t it? And anyway, how does he know what James’s likely answer would be? Does he view their current living arrangements the same way Robbie does?
Best to wait until after Christmas, really.
______________________________________
It’s mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve. and James is out shopping to get the last few fresh items he wants for the Christmas dinner the two of them have planned together, when his mobile rings. Lyn. Surprised, he answers. “Hi, Lyn. Are you looking for your dad? You’ve got my phone, not his, and I’m in Sainsbury’s.”
“Oh, no, it’s you I want, and I’m glad I’ve got you alone.” Lyn’s sounding cheerful and excited. “I couldn’t tell you before I was certain I could get the time. But I did, and I’m off until the 27th. Tim and I are driving down to Oxford this evening.”
“That’s great.” He tries to inject enthusiasm into his voice. Robbie will be ecstatic, James knows that. “I’ll tell Robbie when I get back to the fla-”
“No, don’t!” she insists immediately. “I’m just telling you because - well, I know you’ve been coming over and taking care of him, which is really nice of you, but I know you must have other things you want to be doing, especially with it being Christmas. Except that we’ll be there by around eight, and I hope you’ve got time to come over for a coffee this evening? I can’t wait to meet you in person.”
“Of course I’ll be there,” James promises her, managing to maintain a steady voice. “I’ll see you this evening.”
He abandons the search for the perfect bottle of wine to accompany Christmas dinner, and finishes the shopping with distinctly less enthusiasm than before, all the while telling himself off for being selfish. So what if he was looking forward to spending the time with Robbie, cooking dinner together and exchanging presents afterwards while sharing a brandy? Robbie would far rather have his family around him, and he should be happy at the way things are working out for his friend.
Back at the flat, he puts the shopping away and then goes and strips the spare bed - and then Robbie’s bed as well, because Robbie’s going to think it odd if he just washes one set of sheets. He’ll think it odd anyway, since James has only slept in that bed a few nights, but that can’t be helped.
He also gathers up the items of his that have accumulated in the spare bedroom and bathroom - books and his guitar as well as clothes and toiletries - and puts them away in the hall cupboard, leaving the room empty and tidy for Lyn and her partner. A little late, he takes advantage of Robbie going to the loo to slip his Christmas present to Robbie under the tree, towards the back and so out of casual sight. It’s an Android tablet, a seven-inch version; Robbie’d been fascinated by one in Curry’s a couple of weeks ago when they’d gone to get him a new DVD player. It is a bit of an expensive present, given James’s currently unemployed status, but Robbie’s more than worth it. He’s just disappointed that he won’t get to see his friend’s face when he opens it.
They eat dinner while watching some mindless telly that they both enjoy mocking, and they’ve just finished clearing things away when Lyn and Tim arrive. Robbie’s face is a beautiful sight to behold; James hangs back, slouching against the living-room doorway as Robbie fires multiple questions at Lyn without giving her a chance to answer. A few minutes later, Robbie’s pride as he introduces his daughter to James makes James’s heart swell.
Lyn and her partner are lovely, which really isn’t surprising; James knows that Robbie is the nicest and most genuine bloke anyone could meet, and everything he’s heard about Valerie Lewis suggests the same. Any daughter of theirs couldn’t possibly be unlikeable - and is also not likely to choose a bastard for a partner.
James makes coffee, and later Robbie opens some wine and puts on music, and they talk; at first about Robbie’s injuries and recovery, though he deflects quickly by asking Lyn about the pregnancy and how the baby’s room is coming along. It gives James a chance to observe all three of them without having attention focused on himself. Robbie, the fond dad who clearly can’t wait to be a granddad; Lyn, the nurse who’s a bit of a mother hen as far as her dad’s concerned, though also very much in love with her partner and, probably, at present not focused on much more than the baby who’s due in four or five months. And Tim, the physio turned financial analyst, sitting next to Lyn with his arm protectively around her and who can barely keep his eyes off her slightly-swelled stomach. They’re a lovely family, and James is genuinely happy that Robbie has them with him for Christmas.
Not long after ten, he judges that it’s time to make his exit, and he slips out discreetly to get his coat. It would be rude to leave without saying goodnight, at least, so reluctantly he returns and leans in the living-room doorway again.
Robbie notices him almost immediately. “Where are you going at this hour?”
“Midnight Mass,” James says smoothly. It’s not entirely a lie - he will go - but it’s not the truth either. But if it hasn’t already dawned on Robbie that James can’t stay while his family is here, James doesn’t want him realising now and making a fuss in front of Lyn.
“Ah.” Robbie nods. “I won’t wait up, then.”
“No, don’t,” he urges smoothly. “Goodnight.” Happy Christmas, he almost says, but that would be a giveaway. Instead, he looks towards the sofa and catches Lyn’s eye. “Night, Lyn, Tim. Nice to meet you both.”
“Oh! Goodnight, James!” Lyn calls. “It’s been so lovely to meet you at last.”
He leaves before anything else can be said, and outside hesitates. He could walk home, but Robbie might be suspicious if he doesn’t hear the car starting. The BMW it is; he can drive it back over some time tomorrow and leave the keys in Robbie’s postbox, and send him a text to let him know. Robbie certainly won’t need it before then.
______________________________________
“The flat’s lovely, Dad. Tim and I were really comfortable last night. And you’ve done a great job with the decorations.”
“I’m glad.” He hugs her and kisses her cheek. “Happy Christmas, pet.” He extends his hand - now mostly healed - to her partner. “And you, Tim.”
He looks past the two of them, searching the kitchen for the other occupant who should be somewhere around. Some time during the night, Robbie had realised that James would have to sleep on the couch - how it hadn’t occurred to him sooner, he doesn’t know. But there’s no sign of James now, and the couch has no signs of having being slept on.
He probably went home after Mass, so as not to disturb anyone. He’ll be over soon.
But the hours tick by, and the turkey goes into the oven, without any sign of James. Robbie’s trying not to obsess about it, though he can’t help going to the window every so often to see if there’s any sign of the BMW coming down the road. Nothing.
By shortly after noon, he’s concerned, and Lyn’s noticed. She pauses in the act of peeling potatoes. “Is something wrong, Dad?”
He pulls a face. “Just wondering where James has got to.”
“James?” She seems surprised. “Why?”
Robbie frowns and looks more closely at his daughter. She’s definitely starting to look a little bit embarrassed, and that’s when he remembers that James knew she and Tim were coming. He tried to hide it last night when they got here, but Robbie could see he wasn’t surprised, and then of course the lad’s sudden bout of enthusiasm for laundry had made sense. Lyn must have phoned James to tell him she and Tim were on their way.
“Lyn, what did you say to him?”
She lays the knife down and turns to look straight at Robbie. “Just that I appreciated him looking after you, but that we’d be here and he didn’t have to worry about you any more. And that I was sure there’s somewhere else he’d prefer to be instead of having to check on you.” Robbie doesn’t answer immediately, and her brow furrows in concern. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Lyn, pet, he doesn’t have anywhere else to be.” Her mouth forms a slight O. “We’d made arrangements to spend Christmas together. Not that it’s not lovely to see you an’ Tim and I’m glad you’re both here, but James was supposed to be here.”
“I didn’t know. He never said a word.” And now she’s chewing her lip, looking anxious and a little upset. “Dad, I’m really sorry. It never occurred to me... He never said a word,” she repeats.
“He wouldn’t.” That’s James, always putting his own interests subordinate to whatever he thinks Robbie wants or needs. “So, anyway, there’ll be four for dinner, all right?” Without waiting for Lyn to agree or disagree, Robbie picks up the phone.
James answers after a couple of rings. “Happy Christmas, Robbie. How is everything chez Lewis? All under control?”
“No, an’ it won’t be until you get your arse over here. What were you thinkin’ of?”
“That you might want to be alone with your family?” James retorts, the comment sharply pointed.
“Ye daft sod, you’re family! Told you that not even a week ago!” He sighs. “Now, are you gonna get over here, or do I have to come and get you?”
“I have your car,” James points out. “And you still can’t drive, anyway.”
“But Tim and Lyn’s car is here, and they both drive.”
“Tell him I’ll be over for him if he doesn’t get a move on,” Lyn says, glancing up from the vegetables. “And he really doesn’t want to face the wrath of a pregnant woman.”
“Especially not one with a paring knife!” Tim comments dryly. The sharp bark of laughter on the other end of the phone says James heard that.
“Ye coming, then?”
“On my way, sir,” James says smartly, and hangs up.
______________________________________
Lyn opens the door when he knocks, feeling that using his key may not be entirely appropriate in the circumstances. She hugs him the instant he steps inside. “I’m so sorry, James. I must have made you feel so unwelcome, and I didn’t mean that at all.”
“It’s fine, really,” he assures her. “Of course you wanted to be with your dad.”
“Yes, but you’re his best friend and I should have realised the two of you’d made arrangements.” She slips her hand through his arm. “Come on through. Tim’s opening some wine.”
The first person he sees when he enters the kitchen is Robbie, who immediately holds out a glass of wine to him. The pleasure in Robbie’s eyes as James looks at him is startling - and warming. Their fingers brush as he accepts the glass, and James has to resist the temptation to reach out and touch.
It’s the first proper Christmas celebration James has been part of for more years than he can remember. He relieves Lyn of vegetable duty, assuring her that he is an expert when it comes to vegetable dissection. Later, while everything’s cooking, he takes Tim on at Scrabble, with Robbie and Lyn cheering and mocking in the background. And then, once dinner’s ready, he and Tim deal with the carving and serving up of turkey in a perfectly-choreographed fashion, as if they’ve done it for years, while Lyn adds potatoes and vegetables to every plate and Robbie opens more wine, limping very effectively around the kitchen with no sign of pain.
And through it all, James is conscious of Robbie watching him at odd moments, usually with a fond smile and occasionally something more than fondness in his eyes.
If he can’t have what he wants most in the world - and, being honest with himself (as he is not always), he knows he was never going to have it - then this belonging is a second-best he’s more than happy to settle for.
______________________________________
It’s the best Christmas he’s had in years.
He’d been looking forward to spending his couple of days off with James, of course, but it’s a real treat to have Lyn and Tim here as well, and all of them getting on so well. Lyn’s blooming, looking as healthy and happy in her pregnancy as Val ever did, and it’s just lovely to see. James, rather than retreating into polite formality as he often does around people he doesn’t know very well, is relaxing and chatting with the other two, and giving every appearance of enjoying himself.
It’s bloody marvellous to have his family - blood and adopted - around him. Shame Mark can’t be here, but then he’s built a life for himself in Australia and if Robbie wants to see him, then he’s just going to have to go there, isn’t he? When he retires, if not before. Maybe James would go with him? He’ll have to ask the lad.
James, he notices towards the early evening, is watching him, stealing covert glances every so often when he thinks no-one’s looking. His overall demeanour is happy, with quick smiles and even outright grins in evidence, but when he looks at Robbie there’s a wistfulness in his expression that makes Robbie ponder.
Nothing he can do about it now, but once Lyn and Tim have left...
______________________________________
“Peace at last,” Robbie says, closing the door once they’ve waved the visitors off the following evening. “I love me daughter, an’ I like her bloke, of course, but it’ll be nice to have a bit of time to ourselves before I have to go back to work.”
James lays a hand against Robbie’s back as they walk back to the living-room. “I’m glad I got a chance to meet them. You have a lovely daughter.”
“I’m glad they met you.” Robbie’s hand brushes his arm. “We’ll have to sort out your bed in a bit, but have a drink first?”
Ah, so he’s staying. James had suspected that was the plan, but he wasn’t assuming anything. “Sure. I’ll get them.”
Once they’re on the couch and they’ve toasted each other and drunk, Robbie gestures towards his tablet, lying on the coffee-table. “Thanks again for that, man. I really didn’t expect... You shouldn’t have, but I’m made up to have it.”
“I’m glad.” James smiles back, and dares to reach out and brush the back of Robbie’s hand with his fingertips. “Thank you, too. The pen’s perfect. Just the right image, too, if I’m going to be a fusty academic scratching away in a corner of the Bodleian all day.” It’s a Pelikan fountain pen, clearly very expensive, with a gold nib, and his initials discreetly engraved on the cap.
“I know you’re more into computers,” Robbie says, “but, yeah, thought it might fit the image.”
He turns again to look at Robbie, just as Robbie’s set his beer-bottle down on the table, and at that same moment Robbie meets his gaze. There’s the same fondness that James noticed yesterday, and more - something that seems to take James’s breath away. He can’t tear his gaze away from Robbie, and for what seems like an age neither of them move.
James has no idea what to say, what to do - what if he gets it wrong again? What if this is just his imagination and Robbie’s only staring at him because he’s got something stuck between his teeth?
So he doesn’t move - can’t move - and yet Robbie’s coming closer, until abruptly he’s not. Robbie swallows. “James.” His voice sounds as if his throat’s dry, too.
“Yeah?” James whispers.
“I don’t want to mess this up again, like last time. I need to know - do you want this?”
James has to swallow before he can speak. “I - I’ve always wanted it. But I wasn’t sure - I didn’t think you did.”
“Bloody hell, man, did you not feel my tongue down your throat? Or my hand on your cock?”
His lips twitch in an involuntary smile. “I assumed you’d just got carried away by... well, it’d been a stressful night.”
Robbie huffs, shaking his head. “Suppose I can’t blame you too much. I thought the same about you.” His mouth turns down at the corners. “In the car, I thought you were going to say you regretted it, that it shouldn’t have happened. That’s why I said to forget it.”
Relief and sheer joy is making James light-headed, and he has to take a breath to steady himself. “I don’t want to forget it. I want to do it again, only a lot less rushed and with considerably fewer clothes.”
Robbie shifts closer to James, and then takes his hand, gripping it tightly. “Sounds appealing.”
James reaches up to Robbie’s face, realising as he does that his hand’s actually shaking. He lays his fingertips against Robbie’s cheek before leaning in and pressing their lips together. Robbie kisses back, and it’s nothing like the frenzied, out-of-control kisses in the kitchen in Abbotsbury. It’s so much better. Long, lingering, loving kisses, hands gripping as if letting go is an impossibility. Initially tentative, then increasingly assured slow strokes of tongue against tongue, bodies moving closer together.
Robbie breaks the kiss, bringing his head to rest against James’s shoulder. “That’s lovely, bonny lad.”
“Yeah.” James presses kisses to the side of Robbie’s face. He wants to pinch himself, just to be certain that this is really happening.
“Might want to move, though,” Robbie says, his voice rumbling against James’s body. “Bedroom’d be more comfortable. An’ you know what?” he adds, straightening.
“What?”
“Means we don’t need to bother making up the spare room.”
James laughs softly as he stands and accepts Robbie’s hand, and they walk together to Robbie’s bedroom, turning off lights on their way.
“About that scholarship,” Robbie says, stopping and turning to James as they’re just inside the bedroom.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to live in college, do you?”
James tilts his head to one side. “Not if I have a better offer.”
Robbie reaches up, tugs James’s head down and kisses him firmly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions. “How’s that for a better offer?”
James just can’t stop smiling. “Sounds like the best I’ll ever have.”
Author: wendymr
Artist:
wallflower18
Rated: Mature
Characters: Robbie Lewis, James Hathaway, Jean Innocent, Laura Hobson, Julie Lockhart, original characters
Summary: The two of them have always been more effective together than apart.
Warning: [Under spoiler cut (PLEASE READ if you are prone to triggers)]
References and some descriptions through much of the story to physical and sexual violence against women, and one 'live action' scene containing threat of violence, all in the context of criminal acts. May be triggery for some.
Many, many thanks to my brilliant artist,
wallflower18, for the gorgeous banners, chapter headers and icon. Please, if you like her artwork, send her kudos and compliments! Also much appreciation to my BRs, uniquepov and lindenharp, for both editing assistance and cheerleading as I was writing. And thanks to the organisers of smallfandombang for all their work in organising this fic event.
Chapter 1: Strange Land ~ Chapter 2: Initiation ~ Chapter 3: A Fine Evening for a Stroll ~ Chapter 4: Going Home ~ Chapter 5: Exeunt ~ Chapter 6: Civilian Life
Chapter 7: Terra Firma
The conversation with Lyn is difficult. She’s upset, not just by the fact that her dad’s lying unconscious in hospital, but also because she wasn’t the first to be informed.
“It’s not that I have a problem with the fact that you and my dad are close, James. It’s that it shouldn’t have been left to you to decide whether or not I get told!”
“I know, and you can beat him up about it when he’s back on his feet. I will be, too, for what it’s worth.”
That makes her smile, but she’s teary again when she asks for more details of Robbie’s injuries. James tells her what he knows, and finds himself drawing on all the skills he used as a detective when talking to family members. As she calms, her questions become more technical, and he’s reminded that she’s a nurse, so he suggests that she phone the hospital later and ask for Dr Hamza.
“Do you think I should come down?” she asks then.
He takes a deep breath, then a draw on his cigarette. “I really don’t think he’s in any sort of danger. The doctor is pretty sure he’ll wake within the next twelve hours, and then there’ll just be the other injuries on top of what’ll most likely be a very bad headache. Maybe concussion.”
“You said his leg is injured. And a hand. He’ll need help when he goes home.” Yes, and James has every intention of providing that help - but if Lyn wants to, she takes precedence, doesn’t she? But when she speaks again, she sounds torn. “I’d come down, but we’re so busy at work and already short-staffed because of flu. I’d be leaving them in a terrible fix.”
“No problem. Dunno if he’s told you, but I’m between occupations at the moment, and more than capable of stepping into the breach. He’ll no doubt complain about being mothered, but I never listen when he complains.”
She laughs through the worry that’s still in her voice. “You’re good for him. I was really sorry when he told me you weren’t his sergeant any more.”
“Sorry.” It’s not really an apology, and he is not going to let Robbie’s daughter make him feel guilty. “It’s not as if we don’t see each other, though. We’re still friends.”
“I’m glad about that - and that you’re with him now. Keep in touch, won’t you?” He promises he will. “And, James? Come up here with him some time, would you? I’d really like us to meet.”
He makes non-committal noises and then ends the call; after all, he has no idea whether Robbie would want that at all.
Back in Robbie’s room, there’s no change in his condition. Dr Hobson drops in a few minutes later and exchanges pleasantries of a sort while examining Robbie’s chart and the monitoring machine. James isn’t sure whether he’s just being over-sensitive, but he can’t help suspecting that she blames him for not having been there with Robbie. I had very good reasons for not wanting to be a policeman any more, he’d like to tell her, but he won’t. Can’t.
Can’t imagine ever telling anyone the full story. But then the only person whose opinion on the matter counts already knows.
Laura does squeeze his shoulder as she’s leaving. “Chin up, James. He really is going to be fine, from what I can see.”
He catches her hand briefly. “Thank you.”
She gives him a lightning-fast smile. “I’ll look in again later. Call me if you need to.”
His phone beeps a little later; email, not a text. It’s from Innocent, and he has no idea how she got his personal email address, but she’s not a Chief Superintendent for nothing. The email says simply, Thought you might be interested in this, and there’s a video attachment. It’s the CCTV film from the attack on Robbie - so much for him not being entitled to information about police investigations.
The video captures the scene very well - they were clearly fortunate with camera locations. It’s all over in less than a minute, and it’s very obvious that Lockhart couldn’t possibly have done anything to help, and that there was no way that Robbie could have avoided getting hurt. If James himself had been there... no, he wouldn’t, couldn’t have done anything Lockhart didn’t.
That, at least, makes him feel better.
He waves his phone in Robbie’s direction. “Just in case you try to make me feel guilty as well, Inspector Lewis, I’ve got proof now. You were just taking stupid risks. Which you’d better promise not to do again, or you can whistle for your home-cooked breakfasts while you’re recovering.”
There’s still no change in a couple of hours’ time, when medical staff arrive and shoo him out so they can “make Mr Lewis more comfortable.” He’s advised to get something to eat and come back in half an hour. He gets a sandwich from the Pret а̀ Manger downstairs and half-heartedly chews on it, then gives it up in favour of a fag. A second cigarette and a quick phone call to Lyn, letting her know there’s still no news, and he’s ready to go back upstairs.
“You never told me,” he says as he sits down again. “Did you stay all night when I was unconscious? But you wouldn’t have. Not after everything. And besides, you were dressed for work when I saw you. Strange, though, that you happened to be there right at the moment I woke up.”
He’ll be there when Robbie wakes up. There’s no question whatsoever about that.
Later, a hesitant knock at the door makes him glance around. DC Lockhart’s standing in the doorway. Her eyes widen when she sees him. “Sarge! I didn’t expect-”
A brief glance is enough to see the anxiety and guilt in her eyes. “James is fine, Julie. I’m not a copper any more, remember.” He reaches back to another chair against the wall, pulling it forward. “Come on in.”
She sits awkwardly next to him. “How is he? No-one will tell me anything.”
He smiles slightly. “As Himself would tell you, you have to learn to ask in the right way. He’s fine, they tell me. Skull like an anvil. Knowing him, he’ll wake up in an hour or two and demand the arrest report.”
“Already written,” she says, a little defensively. “The Chief Super wanted it.”
“Julie.” She turns to face him. “It wasn’t your fault. And there was nothing more you could have done.”
“How do you know?” Her hands twist in her lap. “You weren’t there.”
Someone else who thinks he shouldn’t have resigned? But it’s not important. James covers Julie’s hands with his own for a moment. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve seen the CCTV. You did everything you could have.”
She looks at him for a long moment, as if trying to verify that he’s not lying to her, and then nods. “Thanks, Sar- James.”
He gives her a quick smile. “When are you taking your sergeant’s exams? Don’t look so surprised,” he adds as her eyes widen. “I know Lewis has suggested it, and he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t think you were ready.”
They talk for a while longer, and then James sends her away; it’s already almost ten o’clock, “and you’ll have half of his work to do in the morning, as well as your own,” he points out.
Julie’s footsteps have barely faded to silence when there’s a light tap at the door. “I always knew you’d make an outstanding senior officer.”
“Ma’am.” He stands. “How long have-”
“Long enough.” Innocent comes in and studies him, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind and come back? You’d have to reapply, but a recommendation from me would short-circuit a lot of the process. You’d be an excellent trainer, if you really can’t stand front-line policing.”
He shakes his head. “While I appreciate your confidence in me, Ma’am, I really am sure. I’m starting an MPhil at Balliol in January.”
“Oh, well, it was worth a try.” She smiles faintly. “And Robbie’s still speaking to you?”
He can’t stop the smirk. “He gave me a reference.”
“Ah.” The single syllable appears to convey much more meaning. But she changes the subject, asking about Robbie and whether James has spoken to Lyn. When she leaves ten minutes later, she squeezes James’s arm. “I’m glad he’s got you to look after him.”
You’ve got it the wrong way around, he wants to say, but discretion wins out.
Once she’s gone, he pulls his chair closer to Robbie’s bed and lays his hand on the cover. He’s been talking to Robbie, yes, but everything he’s ever heard about unconsciousness and coma suggests that touch is also important. Pressing his hand to Robbie’s cheek feels too intimate, though - fine with him, but not with Robbie. He settles for a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and gets comfortable in the chair, prepared for a long night.
______________________________________
His head’s bloody thumping and his leg hurts, but there’s a familiar, soothing voice in his ear and a comforting touch to his shoulder. After a few minutes, Robbie forces his eyes open and manages a smile. “They let you in, did they?”
James starts, his hand immediately slipping away, and Robbie regrets letting the lad know he’s awake. “Apparently I am your emergency contact. That’s going to cause a bit of gossip around the nick, I should think.”
“Don’t give a rat’s arse,” he retorts, and pulls his arm out from below the covers. He rests his hand on James’s arm, and immediately feels better, headache regardless.
James glances at his hand, then pulls his arm free from Robbie’s grasp. Shit, he overstepped the mark there, didn’t he? But then his hand’s taken in a warm, firm hold and, as he shifts his gaze to James’s face, his friend’s looking down at him, eyes fond.
“You need a shave,” he points out, but what he’s really saying is that he knows James was here all night. He should be irritated with the bloke for that, but he can’t be. Not when he remembers spending most of a night in a hospital room himself a few years ago.
“Idle layabout,” James says with a shrug. “Got to live up to the stereotype.” His lips twitch.
Robbie shakes his head, then winces as pain stabs him. James’s hand tightens around his in sympathy.
“I saw the CCTV, you know,” James says after a moment, voice soft. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I? You had to do something reckless.”
“Oi,” he protests, but without heat.
They stay like that for a few minutes, hands joined, not speaking, until James takes a deep breath and pushes back his chair. “I promised a few people I’d let them know when you wake. And the doctor will probably want to see you.”
“People?”
“Lyn. Innocent. Julie.”
“Lyn?” Bugger it, he doesn’t want her worried, especially not now.
James stands, hands in his jeans pockets. “How would you feel if she called and told you she’d been unconscious and in hospital after an accident, and she only told you after the event?”
He huffs. “Pissed off.”
“Exactly.” James’s lips twitch briefly. “I’ve been keeping her updated. She’s fine, so you don’t need to worry.”
Bloody fantastic. Now his life’s being organised by his ex-sergeant. All the same... “Thanks,” he calls as James leaves the room.
The poking and prodding starts a few minutes later, and much to his disgust he’s told that he needs to stay in another twenty-four hours or so for observation. The pain in his thigh’s getting worse, though, so his protests are more muted than they would otherwise be, and he doesn’t complain too much about the injection he’s given either.
He’s drifting off to sleep when a faintly-mocking voice says, “Couldn’t even wait for me to get back, could you?” In his imagination, he gives James the finger, but dreams about his hand being held.
______________________________________
“You’re not authorised to drive this any more.” Robbie stops beside his official BMW a day later, hesitating as James opens the passenger door for him.
James raises an eyebrow at Robbie and silently gestures for him to get into the car and stop arguing. “It’s fine. Innocent approved it. Said she was pretty sure you’d refuse to be driven home in a uniform car, and I had to agree.” Of course, Lockhart could have come to take her governor home, but neither he nor Innocent had suggested that logical solution.
Robbie gets in, a bit stiffly as he favours his injured thigh. “She’s right there, but how can she approve it?”
“She told me she’d just list me as a family member, for insurance purposes.” James starts the engine as Robbie buckles himself in.
“Well, she’s not wrong there, either.” At that comment, James glances sharply at Robbie. He’d thought it was a bit of a stretch when Innocent suggested it, and hadn’t remotely expected Robbie to endorse it. He didn’t argue too much, all the same, because Robbie’s going to need someone to drive him around for a bit, and do his shopping and so on, and James would rather it be him than anyone else. “Ye daft bugger,” Robbie adds, clearly seeing his surprise. “You’re as much family to me as Lyn is. And don’t imagine that means I think of you as a son, because I don’t.”
So how does Robbie think of him? A friend, yes; no surprise there. Obviously a close friend, given the offer to stay with him for the week or so until he moves into his college rooms, and occasionally in the future - and, of course, listing him as his emergency contact. But how does that equate to considering him family?
He doesn’t ask. It’s not the sort of thing they talk about, it is? Instead, he concentrates on driving.
“Here, this isn’t the way home,” Robbie objects a couple of minutes later when James takes an unexpected turning.
“Taking a detour first,” he says, without explaining further. Two minutes later, he pulls into the cemetery car park. Robbie gives him a sharp glance. “Thought you might want to come here first,” James says, getting out of the car. It’s the nineteenth, after all; the worst of the anniversaries.
“Should’ve known you’d remember,” Robbie says, accepting the hand James offers him as he gets awkwardly to his feet. “Thanks, mate. I was thinking of asking you if you wouldn’t mind, later...” Abruptly, Robbie looks as if he’s remembered something and it’s made him unhappy. “Ah well, let’s go in anyway,” he says after a moment, pushing the car door shut.
“Just a sec.” Loosening his grip on Robbie’s arm, James opens the back door of the BMW and reaches inside, bringing out a bouquet of winter roses and lilies.
Robbie stares, brows creased in surprise - and something else. “You-” he begins, then trails off, clearly moved.
“They’re from Lyn too,” James says quickly, just in case this is too much of an intrusion. He knows Robbie never visits his wife’s grave without bringing flowers, though, and James had no intention of making this the first omission.
Robbie just looks at him for a long moment, then touches his arm. “Thank you.”
Robbie leans heavily on his arm as they walk into the cemetery, but once they’re at Val’s grave James steps away to give him privacy, going back outside the gate and smoking while he waits, but still keeping an eye on Robbie so he can be ready when his friend wants to leave.
______________________________________
James parks outside Robbie’s building and turns to him. “I’m afraid I’ve taken a couple of liberties.”
Robbie quirks an eyebrow. He’s pretty sure he’s not going to have a problem with whatever it is, especially after what James has just done for him, but nervous James is generally amusing to watch.
“I got some shopping in before coming to pick you up.” Robbie barely resists the temptation to roll his eyes. Does James seriously think he’d be upset about that? “Also, considering the injuries to your leg and hand, I thought I should stay with you for a few days to make sure you’re okay. Before you say it, I will endeavour not to fuss. Too much,” he adds, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Fine with me,” Robbie says, and enjoys the reaction his casual tone has on James, who was clearly expecting to be told off. “In fact, you might as well just move in now instead of when your lease is up. It’s only a couple of weeks, and what else would you be doing for Christmas anyway?”
James pauses in the act of getting out of the car. “I assumed you’d be going to Manchester.”
“Assumed wrong, didn’t you? Not that I’d be fit to drive by next week anyway, but I wasn’t going up this year.” And he’d intended to tell James that, and invite him over for Christmas, but he hadn’t got around to it, had he? Typical.
James is a trouble-free guest, not to mention handy to have around, given Robbie’s injuries, and within a couple of days it feels completely normal to have him around the flat all the time. They’re not doing things together constantly - James has his laptop and spends a few hours each day absorbed in some work or other, no doubt to do with his research proposal. Robbie finds himself napping some of the time on the first day, and in the morning of the second Innocent phones.
After she’s asked how he is, she gets to the point. “I’m sending around some cold cases for you to review. Knowing you, I’m guessing you’re already bored senseless, and I’m not having you trying to come into work. Just do me one favour.”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“If James Hathaway happens to be with you, please try to remember that he’s a civilian now and therefore not entitled to be privy to confidential police files?”
Robbie gives appropriate reassurances, though he decides as he’s working through the cases that asking James for his opinion on certain details doesn’t really count. Nor does summarising information for him so that they can discuss the case. After all, as long as he doesn’t actually allow James to read the file, he’s still obeying Innocent’s injunction, right?
By the day before Christmas Eve, it feels so natural and right to have James living in the flat with him that he’s seriously thinking again about an idle thought he’s had now and again since deciding to move to this place. But he holds back; best to be absolutely sure, isn’t it? And anyway, how does he know what James’s likely answer would be? Does he view their current living arrangements the same way Robbie does?
Best to wait until after Christmas, really.
______________________________________
It’s mid-afternoon on Christmas Eve. and James is out shopping to get the last few fresh items he wants for the Christmas dinner the two of them have planned together, when his mobile rings. Lyn. Surprised, he answers. “Hi, Lyn. Are you looking for your dad? You’ve got my phone, not his, and I’m in Sainsbury’s.”
“Oh, no, it’s you I want, and I’m glad I’ve got you alone.” Lyn’s sounding cheerful and excited. “I couldn’t tell you before I was certain I could get the time. But I did, and I’m off until the 27th. Tim and I are driving down to Oxford this evening.”
“That’s great.” He tries to inject enthusiasm into his voice. Robbie will be ecstatic, James knows that. “I’ll tell Robbie when I get back to the fla-”
“No, don’t!” she insists immediately. “I’m just telling you because - well, I know you’ve been coming over and taking care of him, which is really nice of you, but I know you must have other things you want to be doing, especially with it being Christmas. Except that we’ll be there by around eight, and I hope you’ve got time to come over for a coffee this evening? I can’t wait to meet you in person.”
“Of course I’ll be there,” James promises her, managing to maintain a steady voice. “I’ll see you this evening.”
He abandons the search for the perfect bottle of wine to accompany Christmas dinner, and finishes the shopping with distinctly less enthusiasm than before, all the while telling himself off for being selfish. So what if he was looking forward to spending the time with Robbie, cooking dinner together and exchanging presents afterwards while sharing a brandy? Robbie would far rather have his family around him, and he should be happy at the way things are working out for his friend.
Back at the flat, he puts the shopping away and then goes and strips the spare bed - and then Robbie’s bed as well, because Robbie’s going to think it odd if he just washes one set of sheets. He’ll think it odd anyway, since James has only slept in that bed a few nights, but that can’t be helped.
He also gathers up the items of his that have accumulated in the spare bedroom and bathroom - books and his guitar as well as clothes and toiletries - and puts them away in the hall cupboard, leaving the room empty and tidy for Lyn and her partner. A little late, he takes advantage of Robbie going to the loo to slip his Christmas present to Robbie under the tree, towards the back and so out of casual sight. It’s an Android tablet, a seven-inch version; Robbie’d been fascinated by one in Curry’s a couple of weeks ago when they’d gone to get him a new DVD player. It is a bit of an expensive present, given James’s currently unemployed status, but Robbie’s more than worth it. He’s just disappointed that he won’t get to see his friend’s face when he opens it.
They eat dinner while watching some mindless telly that they both enjoy mocking, and they’ve just finished clearing things away when Lyn and Tim arrive. Robbie’s face is a beautiful sight to behold; James hangs back, slouching against the living-room doorway as Robbie fires multiple questions at Lyn without giving her a chance to answer. A few minutes later, Robbie’s pride as he introduces his daughter to James makes James’s heart swell.
Lyn and her partner are lovely, which really isn’t surprising; James knows that Robbie is the nicest and most genuine bloke anyone could meet, and everything he’s heard about Valerie Lewis suggests the same. Any daughter of theirs couldn’t possibly be unlikeable - and is also not likely to choose a bastard for a partner.
James makes coffee, and later Robbie opens some wine and puts on music, and they talk; at first about Robbie’s injuries and recovery, though he deflects quickly by asking Lyn about the pregnancy and how the baby’s room is coming along. It gives James a chance to observe all three of them without having attention focused on himself. Robbie, the fond dad who clearly can’t wait to be a granddad; Lyn, the nurse who’s a bit of a mother hen as far as her dad’s concerned, though also very much in love with her partner and, probably, at present not focused on much more than the baby who’s due in four or five months. And Tim, the physio turned financial analyst, sitting next to Lyn with his arm protectively around her and who can barely keep his eyes off her slightly-swelled stomach. They’re a lovely family, and James is genuinely happy that Robbie has them with him for Christmas.
Not long after ten, he judges that it’s time to make his exit, and he slips out discreetly to get his coat. It would be rude to leave without saying goodnight, at least, so reluctantly he returns and leans in the living-room doorway again.
Robbie notices him almost immediately. “Where are you going at this hour?”
“Midnight Mass,” James says smoothly. It’s not entirely a lie - he will go - but it’s not the truth either. But if it hasn’t already dawned on Robbie that James can’t stay while his family is here, James doesn’t want him realising now and making a fuss in front of Lyn.
“Ah.” Robbie nods. “I won’t wait up, then.”
“No, don’t,” he urges smoothly. “Goodnight.” Happy Christmas, he almost says, but that would be a giveaway. Instead, he looks towards the sofa and catches Lyn’s eye. “Night, Lyn, Tim. Nice to meet you both.”
“Oh! Goodnight, James!” Lyn calls. “It’s been so lovely to meet you at last.”
He leaves before anything else can be said, and outside hesitates. He could walk home, but Robbie might be suspicious if he doesn’t hear the car starting. The BMW it is; he can drive it back over some time tomorrow and leave the keys in Robbie’s postbox, and send him a text to let him know. Robbie certainly won’t need it before then.
______________________________________
“The flat’s lovely, Dad. Tim and I were really comfortable last night. And you’ve done a great job with the decorations.”
“I’m glad.” He hugs her and kisses her cheek. “Happy Christmas, pet.” He extends his hand - now mostly healed - to her partner. “And you, Tim.”
He looks past the two of them, searching the kitchen for the other occupant who should be somewhere around. Some time during the night, Robbie had realised that James would have to sleep on the couch - how it hadn’t occurred to him sooner, he doesn’t know. But there’s no sign of James now, and the couch has no signs of having being slept on.
He probably went home after Mass, so as not to disturb anyone. He’ll be over soon.
But the hours tick by, and the turkey goes into the oven, without any sign of James. Robbie’s trying not to obsess about it, though he can’t help going to the window every so often to see if there’s any sign of the BMW coming down the road. Nothing.
By shortly after noon, he’s concerned, and Lyn’s noticed. She pauses in the act of peeling potatoes. “Is something wrong, Dad?”
He pulls a face. “Just wondering where James has got to.”
“James?” She seems surprised. “Why?”
Robbie frowns and looks more closely at his daughter. She’s definitely starting to look a little bit embarrassed, and that’s when he remembers that James knew she and Tim were coming. He tried to hide it last night when they got here, but Robbie could see he wasn’t surprised, and then of course the lad’s sudden bout of enthusiasm for laundry had made sense. Lyn must have phoned James to tell him she and Tim were on their way.
“Lyn, what did you say to him?”
She lays the knife down and turns to look straight at Robbie. “Just that I appreciated him looking after you, but that we’d be here and he didn’t have to worry about you any more. And that I was sure there’s somewhere else he’d prefer to be instead of having to check on you.” Robbie doesn’t answer immediately, and her brow furrows in concern. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Lyn, pet, he doesn’t have anywhere else to be.” Her mouth forms a slight O. “We’d made arrangements to spend Christmas together. Not that it’s not lovely to see you an’ Tim and I’m glad you’re both here, but James was supposed to be here.”
“I didn’t know. He never said a word.” And now she’s chewing her lip, looking anxious and a little upset. “Dad, I’m really sorry. It never occurred to me... He never said a word,” she repeats.
“He wouldn’t.” That’s James, always putting his own interests subordinate to whatever he thinks Robbie wants or needs. “So, anyway, there’ll be four for dinner, all right?” Without waiting for Lyn to agree or disagree, Robbie picks up the phone.
James answers after a couple of rings. “Happy Christmas, Robbie. How is everything chez Lewis? All under control?”
“No, an’ it won’t be until you get your arse over here. What were you thinkin’ of?”
“That you might want to be alone with your family?” James retorts, the comment sharply pointed.
“Ye daft sod, you’re family! Told you that not even a week ago!” He sighs. “Now, are you gonna get over here, or do I have to come and get you?”
“I have your car,” James points out. “And you still can’t drive, anyway.”
“But Tim and Lyn’s car is here, and they both drive.”
“Tell him I’ll be over for him if he doesn’t get a move on,” Lyn says, glancing up from the vegetables. “And he really doesn’t want to face the wrath of a pregnant woman.”
“Especially not one with a paring knife!” Tim comments dryly. The sharp bark of laughter on the other end of the phone says James heard that.
“Ye coming, then?”
“On my way, sir,” James says smartly, and hangs up.
______________________________________
Lyn opens the door when he knocks, feeling that using his key may not be entirely appropriate in the circumstances. She hugs him the instant he steps inside. “I’m so sorry, James. I must have made you feel so unwelcome, and I didn’t mean that at all.”
“It’s fine, really,” he assures her. “Of course you wanted to be with your dad.”
“Yes, but you’re his best friend and I should have realised the two of you’d made arrangements.” She slips her hand through his arm. “Come on through. Tim’s opening some wine.”
The first person he sees when he enters the kitchen is Robbie, who immediately holds out a glass of wine to him. The pleasure in Robbie’s eyes as James looks at him is startling - and warming. Their fingers brush as he accepts the glass, and James has to resist the temptation to reach out and touch.
It’s the first proper Christmas celebration James has been part of for more years than he can remember. He relieves Lyn of vegetable duty, assuring her that he is an expert when it comes to vegetable dissection. Later, while everything’s cooking, he takes Tim on at Scrabble, with Robbie and Lyn cheering and mocking in the background. And then, once dinner’s ready, he and Tim deal with the carving and serving up of turkey in a perfectly-choreographed fashion, as if they’ve done it for years, while Lyn adds potatoes and vegetables to every plate and Robbie opens more wine, limping very effectively around the kitchen with no sign of pain.
And through it all, James is conscious of Robbie watching him at odd moments, usually with a fond smile and occasionally something more than fondness in his eyes.
If he can’t have what he wants most in the world - and, being honest with himself (as he is not always), he knows he was never going to have it - then this belonging is a second-best he’s more than happy to settle for.
______________________________________
It’s the best Christmas he’s had in years.
He’d been looking forward to spending his couple of days off with James, of course, but it’s a real treat to have Lyn and Tim here as well, and all of them getting on so well. Lyn’s blooming, looking as healthy and happy in her pregnancy as Val ever did, and it’s just lovely to see. James, rather than retreating into polite formality as he often does around people he doesn’t know very well, is relaxing and chatting with the other two, and giving every appearance of enjoying himself.
It’s bloody marvellous to have his family - blood and adopted - around him. Shame Mark can’t be here, but then he’s built a life for himself in Australia and if Robbie wants to see him, then he’s just going to have to go there, isn’t he? When he retires, if not before. Maybe James would go with him? He’ll have to ask the lad.
James, he notices towards the early evening, is watching him, stealing covert glances every so often when he thinks no-one’s looking. His overall demeanour is happy, with quick smiles and even outright grins in evidence, but when he looks at Robbie there’s a wistfulness in his expression that makes Robbie ponder.
Nothing he can do about it now, but once Lyn and Tim have left...
______________________________________
“Peace at last,” Robbie says, closing the door once they’ve waved the visitors off the following evening. “I love me daughter, an’ I like her bloke, of course, but it’ll be nice to have a bit of time to ourselves before I have to go back to work.”
James lays a hand against Robbie’s back as they walk back to the living-room. “I’m glad I got a chance to meet them. You have a lovely daughter.”
“I’m glad they met you.” Robbie’s hand brushes his arm. “We’ll have to sort out your bed in a bit, but have a drink first?”
Ah, so he’s staying. James had suspected that was the plan, but he wasn’t assuming anything. “Sure. I’ll get them.”
Once they’re on the couch and they’ve toasted each other and drunk, Robbie gestures towards his tablet, lying on the coffee-table. “Thanks again for that, man. I really didn’t expect... You shouldn’t have, but I’m made up to have it.”
“I’m glad.” James smiles back, and dares to reach out and brush the back of Robbie’s hand with his fingertips. “Thank you, too. The pen’s perfect. Just the right image, too, if I’m going to be a fusty academic scratching away in a corner of the Bodleian all day.” It’s a Pelikan fountain pen, clearly very expensive, with a gold nib, and his initials discreetly engraved on the cap.
“I know you’re more into computers,” Robbie says, “but, yeah, thought it might fit the image.”
He turns again to look at Robbie, just as Robbie’s set his beer-bottle down on the table, and at that same moment Robbie meets his gaze. There’s the same fondness that James noticed yesterday, and more - something that seems to take James’s breath away. He can’t tear his gaze away from Robbie, and for what seems like an age neither of them move.
James has no idea what to say, what to do - what if he gets it wrong again? What if this is just his imagination and Robbie’s only staring at him because he’s got something stuck between his teeth?
So he doesn’t move - can’t move - and yet Robbie’s coming closer, until abruptly he’s not. Robbie swallows. “James.” His voice sounds as if his throat’s dry, too.
“Yeah?” James whispers.
“I don’t want to mess this up again, like last time. I need to know - do you want this?”
James has to swallow before he can speak. “I - I’ve always wanted it. But I wasn’t sure - I didn’t think you did.”
“Bloody hell, man, did you not feel my tongue down your throat? Or my hand on your cock?”
His lips twitch in an involuntary smile. “I assumed you’d just got carried away by... well, it’d been a stressful night.”
Robbie huffs, shaking his head. “Suppose I can’t blame you too much. I thought the same about you.” His mouth turns down at the corners. “In the car, I thought you were going to say you regretted it, that it shouldn’t have happened. That’s why I said to forget it.”
Relief and sheer joy is making James light-headed, and he has to take a breath to steady himself. “I don’t want to forget it. I want to do it again, only a lot less rushed and with considerably fewer clothes.”
Robbie shifts closer to James, and then takes his hand, gripping it tightly. “Sounds appealing.”
James reaches up to Robbie’s face, realising as he does that his hand’s actually shaking. He lays his fingertips against Robbie’s cheek before leaning in and pressing their lips together. Robbie kisses back, and it’s nothing like the frenzied, out-of-control kisses in the kitchen in Abbotsbury. It’s so much better. Long, lingering, loving kisses, hands gripping as if letting go is an impossibility. Initially tentative, then increasingly assured slow strokes of tongue against tongue, bodies moving closer together.
Robbie breaks the kiss, bringing his head to rest against James’s shoulder. “That’s lovely, bonny lad.”
“Yeah.” James presses kisses to the side of Robbie’s face. He wants to pinch himself, just to be certain that this is really happening.
“Might want to move, though,” Robbie says, his voice rumbling against James’s body. “Bedroom’d be more comfortable. An’ you know what?” he adds, straightening.
“What?”
“Means we don’t need to bother making up the spare room.”
James laughs softly as he stands and accepts Robbie’s hand, and they walk together to Robbie’s bedroom, turning off lights on their way.
“About that scholarship,” Robbie says, stopping and turning to James as they’re just inside the bedroom.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to live in college, do you?”
James tilts his head to one side. “Not if I have a better offer.”
Robbie reaches up, tugs James’s head down and kisses him firmly, leaving no doubt as to his intentions. “How’s that for a better offer?”
James just can’t stop smiling. “Sounds like the best I’ll ever have.”