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The kettle had just started to boil when his mobile rang, Jeremy's number showing. "What is it now, Jeremy?"
The man was insufferable. Just yesterday he had tried convincing James to give up his well earned quiet holiday for a trip to his home on the Isle of Man to go blasting around the island in fast cars. And then drink the copious amounts of wine he expected James to bring along.
James had told him no, he already spent more time than was healthy going at very fast speeds around corners, thank you very much. He preferred to spend his holidays pottering about his house and working on the latest motorbike purchased from the small ads in Auto Trader. Working with Richard and Jeremy gave him enough adrenaline in his life already.
Jeremy had, surprisingly, let it drop even as his face betrayed his disappointment and had wished James a happy holiday before getting into his car and driving away.
Now the blasted man was calling him.
"James!" Jeremy said, his words gliding together and bright in a way that suggested sobriety was far, far in the past. Absolutely lovely, there were many things in life he could resist but a drunken Jeremy was not one of them.
A glance at the clock told him that it was only half-two and for Jeremy to already be this drunk indicated that he had started drinking quite early. "Yes, Jeremy?"
"There was a little accident," Jeremy stated, his voice rising above the din in the background.
"Are you all right?" Ever since Richard's accident, he had been ever so slightly on edge whenever one of his colleagues had an accident, however minor. Even though rationally he knew that if Jeremy was well enough to call him, it was only a minor accident and he was going to be fine, a spark of fear formed in his belly and he forced himself to breathe deeply. There was nothing to be concerned about.
"'M fine, but I need a lift home. Back to your place," he corrected himself before continuing. "Need a place to stay, too. Hospital won't let me be alone until tomorrow."
James sighed. "And since Francie is in Switzerland with her sister and the children, you called me. What hospital are you at?" He asked and switched the gas off.
"I am in London, was on my way over to yours when an extremely inconsiderate Prius pulled in front of me and I ran into it's back. Looks better now, the Prius does."
"What hospital, Jeremy?" James asked again. "I'm not going to all of them looking for an over-large oaf who can't see a Prius for the trees."
"Hammersmith Hospital," he said.
"Let me guess, they gave you the good drugs at hospital, that's why they won't let you go home alone?"
"You may be slow and pedantic, James, but you aren't stupid. Will you please come and release me from this infernal place?" Jeremy pleaded.
Resting the phone against his shoulder, James reached for his keys. "I'll be there shortly."
***
Jeremy was uncharacteristically silent on the ride back to James', a rigid white collar around his neck. And, for some reason, he had a bouquet of flowers in his lap, alongside the bag of pills and sheaf of paper the doctors had given him.
As much as he appreciated silence, even craved it, five minutes of it around Jeremy Clarkson was quite unnerving. James broke the silence as he turned onto his street. "I'm guessing some of the nurses were Top Gear fans?" When Jeremy hadn't replied by the next set of traffic lights, James looked over at him. And saw that Jeremy was biting his lower lip and looking nervous. Very different than he had sounded on the phone only a short time before.
The tip of his tongue was pink against his lower lip. "Not exactly."
"Not exactly, Jeremy? Then why do you have flowers?"
James had a feeling that if Jeremy could have turned his head to look out the window, he would have. "They're for you," he said in a rush.
"Why would you be bringing me flowers, Jeremy..." He started to ask before he thought of all the small, kind things Jeremy had done for him over the last few weeks. The cups of tea and plates of his favorite biscuits had been lovely, if slightly puzzling. It suddenly made sense, Jeremy was wooing him. "You like me," he stated as they pulled up in front of James' garage.
Jeremy grabbed the door handle as soon as the car was in the garage and got out, shutting the door with far more force than was necessary.
James rolled down the windows with an electric whirr in time to hear Jeremy ask quietly, "Would it be so bad if I did?"
Getting out of the car, James crossed round the boot to lean against the wall by Jeremy. As much as he hated emotional conversations, there were times when they were needed. "It wouldn't be bad," he said, lightly touching Jeremy's shoulder.
Jeremy turned, his face relaxing as he leaned in to kiss James.
James pulled away, ignoring Jeremy's curse--as much as he wanted Jeremy, this needed to happen when they were both sober. "I'm not doing this with you now, not when you're drugged full of pain medications."
"But later?" Jeremy asked hopefully.
"Later, if you still want this, then yes." James replied, hitting the key lock.
"The window is down," Jeremy pointed out.
"I don't care, you, inside now. Need to make sure that crash didn't do anything to your head."
"Finally found something to make Captain 'Everything Must Be Put Away,' leave something out of order," Jeremy said, sounding far too pleased with himself.
"Oh shut up and come inside," James said.
Jeremy smiled and followed James out of the garage and into his house.
end