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Chapter Text

Jack, 2013 (S16)

Jack closed the door to his flat kicking off his formal shoes which always pinched his toes. He threw his keys onto the side and exhaled deeply. It was done.

He looked again at the Order of Service in his hands, Leo’s face adorning the cover, and had a moment of indecision about what to do with it. He couldn’t throw it away, but the grief and horror of it still felt too raw to have it displayed somewhere like a macabre object d’art. He settled for tucking it between two books on the bookcase and went to the kitchen to pour himself a whisky.

Jack didn’t drink much these days, but today it felt right to drink to Leo, to mark his funeral quietly on his own. He’d driven Nikki home after the service and secretly hoped she’d invite him in, but she’d been so lost in her own thoughts, her own grief, that Jack supposed he hadn’t crossed her mind. He knew she was strong, a fighter, but he did worry about her all alone grieving the man who’d been a father to her.

Jack loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. He lay back on the sofa, undid his top button, and closed his eyes, whisky balancing on his chest. It’d been quite a year since he’d started working at the Lyell. It was easily the best job he’d ever had and the state of his flat around him was testament to how wrapped up in his work he’d become. He’d always been passionate about forensic science, always tried to go the extra mile, but at the Lyell he was pushed and challenged to do even more, to test the boundaries and he loved it, and the team around him. Clarissa. Nikki. Leo.

His breath caught in his throat as he relived again the explosion that killed his boss, holding Nikki back as she fought to get to him, and then feeling her collapse on him as she realised it was too late. Crazy as the whole Afghanistan trip had been, just before the explosion they’d actually all been in a good place; Leo was in love, and him and Nikki were, well… he swallowed, they were mates; she seemed happy. And then Leo was gone, in an instant, a blur of heat and sound and chaos.

He’d not seen Nikki smile since they’d returned home. He’d felt her retreat away, from him, from everyone; he wanted more than anything to help her to come back. Jack allowed his mind to wander to her, indulging himself for a moment. Christ, he knew he needed to be careful. He took a slug of whisky, enjoying the smoky burn down his throat.

“Not where you eat, Jack.”

Clarissa’s words echoed through his mind, forcing a wry smile from him. Nikki was unavailable and out of his league, and not interested in him anyway. But jeez if she didn’t take his breath away sometimes. Beauty yes, but he’d known beautiful women before; it was more her sharpness, her fight, her wanting to see the best in people, in him, and behind it all a fragility that betrayed that she, like him, carried a lifetime of scars.

He downed the rest of his whisky and took out his phone, scrolling to her number. He could just call to check she was okay? They were mates, and he was worried about her on her own after a day like today.

His thumb hovered over her name for a heartbeat unsure whether she would want him to call or not.

Nikki, 2013 (S16)

Nikki lay on her sofa, across town, still in her funeral attire, a glass of wine undrunk on the coffee table. She felt numb. Like the events of the day had been a dream. She thought she should be crying but the tears hadn’t come, not at the service, not afterwards, and not now. She hadn’t really cried since the explosion itself, then she’d screamed into Jack’s chest, the sound muffled by the ringing in her ears from the bomb. Since then, nothing; nothing expect the familiar feeling of retreat from people, from Jack, from Clarissa, from anyone who would remind her of Leo.

Harry had been at Leo’s funeral. Quietly at the back like an echo of a previous life. They’d exchanged pleasantries at the refreshments afterwards and he’d suggested a drink at his hotel, but she’d not been able to face it. To face him, talking, reminiscing; it was too soon, and too raw. And he was flying back to New York tomorrow; that box needed to stay firmly shut. She couldn’t take heartbreak on top of grief. Jack had offered to drive her home and she’d accepted gratefully, saying a chaste goodbye to Harry.

When he dropped her at her flat, she’d nearly invited Jack in, the words dying on her tongue at the last minute. She was caught between wanting to be alone but not wanting her own thoughts for company, she knew from experience that wasn’t going to be a good place to be. Jack was easy company, he’d sort of snuck into her life without her really noticing. And he was good for her, he kept things grounded and playful, and wasn’t afraid to challenge her when he thought she was wrong. The circle of people that Nikki would call friends seem to shrink every year, maybe that was just part and parcel of everyone getting older, but she was glad that Jack had wormed his way into her circle, and Clarissa too. She was going to need them more than ever once the Lyell reopened; she couldn’t even begin to imagine the Lyell without Leo, it just didn’t make any sense in her mind.

Just as she began to feel hopelessly numb again, her phone rang, stark and urgent in the semi darkness.

Jack.

She smiled to herself, without really meaning to, and picked up.

“Hey”

“Just wanted to check you were okay after today…”

“Not really”

“Me neither”

Suddenly, without warning, the tears came.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2014 (S17)

Nikki shifted position in her chair, her lower back aching and her head pounding. Thomas was dozing in a chair on the other side of the bed lulled to sleep by the regular beeping of the hospital equipment, and the fact that they’d not slept for over twenty four hours. She looked at Jack, who looked both peaceful and broken at the same time, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over her.

Disloyal.

That’s how Thomas had put it, and that’s how she felt. Disloyal. And frightened that she was going to lose him.

Thomas stirred and opened his eyes, letting out a groan of discomfort.

“I’m going to go home for a bit Nikki, and you should too.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m going to stay a bit longer I think.”

Thomas nodded and squeezed her shoulder as he passed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, leaving her alone with Jack and the beeping machines. Nikki reached out and took Jack’s hand in hers feeling fresh tears falling again.

“Come on Jack. Come back to us. We need you.”

She paused, still with his hand in hers.

“I need you.”

As she’d raced to the hospital, as she’d seen him battered, broken, fighting for his life, she’d realised how much he meant to her. He wasn’t just a work colleague, or even a mate, he was her best friend; the person she automatically turned to for support, for fun, for companionship. And she couldn’t lose him, she just couldn’t; not yet. Not after she’d let him down like this, not been there for him with all this stuff with his brother as she knew he would have been for her. She’d told Thomas that she trusted him, instinctively, reflexively, and that was true, but then she’d acted like it wasn’t. Like he wasn’t her best friend. And he was. She knew that now, had it really taken someone trying to kill Jack to make her realise that?

“Come on Jack!”

Nikki dropped her head onto his hand, his skin on hers. She needed him to come back to her, needed him to work cases with her, make her laugh, eat pizza with her, keep her sane.

“Come on Jack!”

Jack, 2014 (S17)

Every part of his body hurt, or at least that’s how it felt to Jack as he sat on his sofa, Nikki pottering in his kitchen making tea. He’d insisted on being present when the police picked Ryan up, and Nikki had insisted on bringing him home and making sure he had everything he needed. She would have preferred that he hadn’t discharged himself from hospital in the first place but he had needed to face Ryan and own his decision to pass his information to the police, and she hadn’t argued with him.

Disloyal.

That was the word that haunted him. That he had sold out his brother, chosen his career over his family, again. He knew he’d done the right thing, and he hadn’t done it for his career, he’d done it for the victims, for Katie and Hannah. But it still felt disloyal to his family, he couldn’t shake that however hard he tried.

Nikki came over with two mugs of tea.

“You don’t have to stay”

“I know”

She sat down with him on the sofa, setting the tea down in front of him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Shit”

“Well you probably should still be in hospital…”

“Don’t”

She smiled at him, and briefly touched his arm.

“Just get better yeah. It’s not the same without you.”

“I’ll do my best”

He picked up his tea and cradled the mug, enjoying the warmth. Nikki settled into the sofa, tucking her legs up under her and taking out her phone. He watched as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and felt that familiar pang that he wasn’t the one to tuck her hair out of her eyes, not that he’d be able to with his injuries. He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind, nothing good came from him allowing himself to dwell on Nikki Alexander as anything more than his best mate. The stuff with Ryan had come between them a bit over the past few weeks but they seemed to have emerged as good friends as they’d ever been. And he was grateful for that, grateful that she was here looking after him, that he could do the same for her. He often felt fiercely protective of her, like when she’d dated that psychopathic twat Greg Walker. Admittedly he hadn’t liked the bloke even before it’d become apparent that he was a psychopath but honestly, she had terrible judgment with men.

He must’ve let out some sort of snort because she looked up from her phone and at him questioningly.

“You’re staying then are you?”

“Yeah, thought I might make you some dinner.”

He raised his eyebrow at this suggestion. Nikki was many things, but she was no cook.

“Well, I’ll order you some dinner anyway!” she said with a laugh.

He smiled back. Perhaps, as his Da would say, he’d always carry a torch for her, but he’d happily settle for this kind of friendship.

Chapter Text

Jack, 2015 (S18)

Jack wasn’t really a champagne sort of guy but he was drinking one anyway, raising a glass to PC Honeywell. Yet another funeral. Death and funerals were par for the course in this job, but that didn’t make them any easier. He supposed it was a good thing that he never really got used to it. He hadn’t known PC Honeywell but the investigation had brought them close to coppers who had, Nikki especially. She’d wanted to come and he and Thomas had wanted to support her. Like the police, they were a team, a family even, and something that affected one of them affected them all. That was the way it should be, and so he was here drinking champagne that he didn’t really like.

He glanced across the room at Nikki. She was standing with Jim, her own champagne glass in hand, and she looked happy. Well funeral-happy, if that was even a thing. She had that glow that people do when they first start a relationship and it looked good on her; though he was pretty sure he’d think anything looked good on her. He downed his champagne, shaking the thought out of his head. He and Nikki were friends, good friends, and that was okay. More than okay, it was great. He hadn’t actually thought about her that way for a while and had been out with some other women recently, some just for a night after he’d been at the club, but he’d managed a few weeks with Sarah. And that had ended because of her not him. Which was progress.

He’d never wanted to psychoanalysis why he struggled to maintain any serious relationships. Probably something cliched about his mother which he didn’t want to have to think about. Jack had slept with a lot of women, but he only ever seemed to want to be romantically involved with those who were unavailable - married, or much older than him, or both. He’d liked Sarah, and she wasn’t married or a cougar, which maybe was a breakthrough, other than the planting of evidence for money and her moving a thousand miles away from him. Hardly made her available.

Nikki and Jim’s approach brought him out of his reverie and he smiled as they reached him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah thanks. I’m going to drive Jim home, do you want a lift? We’ll go basically past yours Jack.”

“Ah no, that’s okay. I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. You go have fun!”

He winked at her and she smiled and squeezed his arm.

“See you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah, see ya Nikki”

He watched her leave, taking Jim’s free arm. There was undoubtedly a pang of jealousy in him, it was foolish to try and pretend there wasn’t, perhaps there just always would be. But Jim was a good guy, and Jack thought he made Nikki happy. And he wanted her to be happy, more than almost anything else.

Nikki, 2015 (S18)

Nikki relaxed back into the bath, allowing the lavender scented water to cover her entirely. She hated cases where coppers were killed, and this one had been no exception; she was glad it was over and that they’d been able to help the police to bring Fallon to justice. It wasn’t always possible, sometimes the evidence just wasn’t there, but this time it was, in the end anyway. And that made the funeral easier to deal with, knowing that justice had been served.

She came up out of the water, swept her hair back out of her face and rubbed the mascara out of her eyes. She reached over the side of the bath for her glass of wine and took a sip of cold Pinot Grigio. She wondered about texting Jim but knew that he was exhausted after the funeral, still recovering from his gunshot wound. She’d seen so many people die that she’d basically assumed the worst as the paramedics had taken over from her in the aftermath of the shooting. When she’d arrived at the hospital she’d had to ask the receptionist to repeat it when she’d said that he was, not only alive, but also awake. His convalescence had been difficult; he’d been frustrated that he couldn’t just take some pills and go back to work. Nikki had tried to help as best she could but it had been hard work, and not the ideal start to a relationship. To be honest, she wasn’t sure that things were really going to work out but, for the most part, she had enjoyed being with him, and that was better than some of her previous relationships.

She took another sip of wine. When she was at uni she’d had a poster on her wall which had said “Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together” attributed allegedly to Marilyn Monroe, and she had lived a bit like that. Despite what people said, Jack especially, she wasn’t really a lone wolf, she liked being in a relationship; liked having someone to come home to and to wake up with. And she’d had lots of semi-serious but fairly short term partners, and one very short term marriage, but there’d always been a reason to let things fall apart, to feel that there was something better to come. She already knew that’s where things with Jim were heading; that she’d just allow it to fall apart. Sometimes, like now when she was feeling particularly vulnerable, she wondered if she’d missed the better falling together when she’d let Harry go, when she put her career before a relationship with him. Rationally, she felt that couldn’t be true; for the right man she was sure she would be willing to move to New York, or have a long distance relationship, or manage that transition from friends to more-than-friends. None of those things had happened with Harry and so that couldn’t have been the better, could it?

She got out of the bath and wrapped herself in her robe, feeling wistful and lonely. She picked up her phone, scrolling almost on autopilot, and tapping out the message with wet fingers. She needed some company or she was going to go mad.

You awake?

Jack called her almost immediately and she smiled as she picked up. She could always rely on him to be there for her.

“Hey”

“You okay?"

She felt bad that he sounded worried.

“Yeah, sorry I’m fine. Just needed some company.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No, just chat to me while I make some dinner?”

“You’re making dinner?”

“Okay, while I wait for my sushi to arrive!”

She heard him laugh.

“Sure. Pink Salmon again?”

“They’re the best Jack!”

She pulled the plug from the bath and padded to her lounge putting Jack on speaker. She would be okay now.

Chapter Text

Jack, 2016 (S19)

Jack checked his phone, again. Still no message from Nikki. He knew that this case had got to her and he had the beginnings of worry that she hadn’t showed up to his as she’d said she would. He could hear Thomas and Clarissa laughing about something or other next door in the lounge, letting off steam, kicking back, and he felt momentarily and irrationally angry that Nikki was choosing to exclude herself. It was she who called them her Lyell family so where was she? Probably still at work. Working so she didn’t have to think about what they’d uncovered, that Schraader had vanished, that justice wouldn’t be served. He knew that, because he knew her, but he also knew it would be so much better for her to be here, with people who understood that, who felt the same, who could look after her.

He took a swig of his beer and carried the tray of chicken drummers through to the others.

“Anyone heard from Nikki?”

Thomas and Clarissa both shook their heads.

He sighed and checked his phone. Again.

Nikki, 2016 (S19)

The words on Nikki’s computer screen swam and she ran her fingers through her hair, massaging her temples. She was pretending to work, she knew that. She’d claimed that she needed to get her report finished this evening, but she knew she didn’t really; it could wait til tomorrow. She just didn’t trust her mind without something to occupy it.

The others were at Jack’s. She’d said she’d come over when she was done but as time had worn on she’d felt less and less like being sociable. She hadn’t told anyone that Simon Forsyth had attacked her. She didn’t want to have the obligatory medical check nor did she want sympathy, but it had shaken her up, reminded her of her own fragility, brought up past traumas, which spun through her mind like the demons they were. And she didn’t want to have to talk about it, about any of it. She just wanted to shut her mind off, and work was how she did that. Work until sleep overwhelmed her.

Her phone buzzed, startling her out of her daze. It was Jack.

You don’t have to talk about it. Just come and be with your Lyell family x

She exhaled deeply. Sometimes it was like that man could read her mind. Wearily she turned her computer off, and swung her coat over her shoulder. She didn’t always do what Jack said, but he’d used the f word.

Jack, 2016 (S19)

After he’d text Nikki, Jack had flung his phone away, not wanting to spend the rest of the evening waiting for the three dots to appear. Nikki was a grown women who could make bad decisions if she wanted to, and he was not a lovesick teenager. Well, not really. He got the others another round of drinks, and threw himself into an increasingly riotous game of Uno in which he was sure that Clarissa was cheating but couldn’t work out how.

Just as Thomas had signalled that he probably should make a move, and they’d all agreed that it was getting late for a weeknight, and Jack had given up all hope of Nikki joining them, the doorbell rang. Jack inwardly rolled his eyes at himself as he felt his heart leap, and got up to answer the door.

She was standing on his doorstep, in jeans and a hoody, wet hair tied back, and a bottle of wine in hand, which she held out to him.

“Sorry I’m late. I needed to shower the day off me first.”

Jack smiled at her, and bit down an urge to envelope her in his arms. She looked so small, without her usual heels on, and unusually fragile. He always just wanted to take care of her.

“Come in, shorty”

Nikki, 2016 (S19)

Nikki stretched back into Jack’s sofa, taking up its whole length. She always thought Jack’s sofa was the most comfortable sofa she’d ever sat on, it seemed to envelope her like a hug. Even as she’d rung the door bell, Nikki hadn’t been sure she really wanted to come but, now, enveloped in the sofa, she was glad she had. Turns out her work-family was sometimes just as good as work itself at distracting her, maybe better. They’d played Uno, something she hadn’t done in years, and drunk wine and laughed, and Jack, true to his word, hadn’t asked her about anything.

Thomas and Clarissa had left together in a taxi about an hour ago, Clarissa still protesting total innocence to the Uno cheating allegations, and despite Nikki half-heartedly saying she should also probably go, she was still here, enveloped in Jack’s sofa, feeling happier than she had in weeks, the pleasant buzz of a few glasses of wine in her veins, and no desire to go home to her empty flat.

She stole a glance across the room at Jack. He had his feet up on the coffee table and was looking at his phone. She wasn’t sure whether it was the wine, or the fact it was significantly past midnight, or how he looked just in a white t shirt and jeans, but she had a sudden rush of attraction to him. She wasn’t surprised really, he was an attractive guy, and more than that, he was decent, kind, brave, all the good things. He’d make someone an amazing boyfriend some day, a day she secretly dreaded, when she’d have to share him. People did sometimes assume they were together, and her girl friends all thought she was lying when she told them nothing had ever happened, and nothing was going to. Truth was, she needed him as her best friend too much to do anything to jeopardise or complicate that.

Nikki downed the rest of her glass of wine, shaking the thought from her mind and watching Jack stifle a yawn. She suddenly felt bad that she was keeping him up.

“I can go, if you want”

“Only when you’re ready Nikki”

She flopped back on the sofa, torn between not wanting to be a burden but also not feeling ready to go home.

“Stay. I’ve probably got more wine somewhere. If I fall asleep just prod me or something!”

That was why he was her best friend. He always put her first, even when she was ridiculous, even when it was way past both their bedtimes. She stared at a slightly discoloured patch on Jack’s ceiling.

“Jack?”

“Mm hmm?”

“Do you think this job’s fucking me up?”

“Why do you say that?”

She continued to look at the ceiling.

“Because I feel fucked up sometimes.”

“Life fucks us all up. This job just means we see more life than some people. That’s all. We all carry the scars of the past Nikki.”

She turned her head to look at him. He’d sat up.

“How do you deal with it? With the life we see? That’s why you fight yeah?”

“Not the only reason. But one of them. Doing stuff other than work. Life usually seems less dark when you’re playing Uno with Clarissa, even when she cheats!”

She flopped back onto the sofa.

“Yeah. I’m not good at doing stuff other than work. And this job, just sometimes, it feels like it gives me too many scars…”

“Nikki?”

“Yeah”

“Did something happen today?”

She paused. He’d promised she didn’t have to talk about it, and she knew he wouldn’t push it.

“Yeah”

Silence. The ceiling. Sofa enveloping her.

“Simon Forsyth tried to strangle me.”

She felt him tense even without looking at him. Knew the muscle in his jaw would be flexing.

“Christ, Nikki!”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

“Just one more life scar yeah?”

“You’re a warrior Nikki. You always will be. Just let us take care of you sometimes hey?”

She turned to face him again and smiled.

“I’ll try”

Chapter Text

Jack, 2017, before (S20)

Jack watched the sunrise, a strange mixture of beauty and foreboding. He was tired, they’d been up all night and everything here felt like it was always on a knife edge, always ready to blow up. He didn’t know how people survived, how they lived normal everyday lives, fell in love, raised kids, living in such a pressure cooker.

He felt Nikki arrive before she did, like always hyper-aware of where she was, of how she was, and how he could make sure she was okay. Here, more than ever, he felt he had to protect her from herself as much as anything else. She was so passionate, so steadfastly determined to make a difference, to help people, that she would so often put herself in danger and here danger was everywhere. He knew he was here to bring her home, he just wished he knew how to do that, because he could never leave her here alone.

Nikki sat down next to him, he felt her huddle to him for warmth and an involuntary shiver ran down his spine, as it so often did when she was physically close to him. Sometimes, just sometimes recently, he’d began to wonder if his feelings were quite so unrequited as he’d always assumed them to be. He couldn’t put his finger really on what had changed, just small things, glances between them, moments when she reached out to him physically, like now. Probably nothing had changed and he was grasping. Neither of them had really seen anyone else for a while, not seriously anyway, so maybe it was just that she was filling that void with him. One day he knew she was going to properly break his heart, without meaning to, and without even realising she was.

“I’m not helping them.”

She sounded so sad and his autopilot response kicked in - look after Nikki. He could think about all of this once they were back in the distant London drizzle.

Nikki, 2017, before (S20)

Nikki put her head on Jack’s shoulder, watching the sun rise on another day, another day when she knew she wouldn’t be able to do what she wanted to do for these people; it felt hopeless and that she’d made things worse for people not better, the opposite of why she was here, why she’d dragged Jack here too.

Jack felt reassuringly solid next to her; she was so incredibly glad that he was here, that he got why she was here, even if he thought she was fighting an impossible fight.

Jack put his arm around her and despite everything, the fear and the anger, she felt safe. Somehow it always felt that, as long as she had Jack at her side, she would be okay. She wondered, briefly, whether this meant anything, whether maybe her girl friends were right and she did feel something more for him than friendship, but, right now, in this dusty tinder box with death and loss pressing in on them, she couldn’t process that further. When they got home things would be clearer. Right now, she was just glad he was here and, despite his protests that she should sleep, she didn’t want to be anywhere other than in his embrace. She didn’t care what that meant.

Jack, 2017, after (S20)

Jack sat watching Nikki sleep, whatever drugs the doctors had given her had knocked her completely out. The British Embassy and probably Thomas, had finally got involved and insisted on her being admitted to a private hospital. And here she was, sleeping. And here he was. Alive. Numb. Broken.

He’d failed her.

He’d promised her he’d find her, that he’d rescue her, and he’d failed. Left her to rescue herself, to fight her way out of that fucking box herself while he thought she was dead. For two hours he’d believed she was dead, that he’d left her to die, for two hours he mourned her and hated himself. And now she was alive and he couldn’t look at her. When the police told him they’d found her, on a beach, basically unharmed, he didn’t believe them, couldn’t believe them, and now, even though she was here with him, he couldn’t feel anything, anything other than guilt.

He loved her. He couldn’t deny that anymore. But it felt academic, just a fact he knew about himself rather than a feeling that he felt. He’d probably loved her for years, and now he couldn’t even look at her. All he’d ever wanted to do was to look after her and he’d failed her. He’d always thought he probably wasn’t good enough for her and here was the ultimate proof; he hadn’t been able to be who she needed him to be. Loving her wasn’t enough. Loving her had hurt her. His love had been weakness and failure.

Jack lifted his eyes from the floor to Nikki’s face, serene in a way he knew her mind couldn’t possibly be. He had to go. He hated leaving her here but he didn’t have anything to offer her when she woke other than his own failure and pain, and she didn’t need that. He dropped the tiniest of kisses on her head, maybe the only one he’d ever get to give her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Nikki, 2017, after (S20)

Nikki sat in her kitchen feeling like a stranger in her own home, a cup of tea going cold in front of her. She’d arrived home a couple of weeks ago and was still struggling with being on her own again. Following her discharge from hospital in Mexico she’d spent some time staying with Harry. She’d gone to New York almost on a whim in the euphoria of escaping death, but as the adrenaline had worn off and the trauma of what she’d experienced began to surface she’d been so glad to have someone with her. Harry had taken care of her, been decent and honourable as he always was, but also encouraged her to go home so she could start the healing process properly.

She knew he was right. London was her home and she wanted to heal here, and to get back to work eventually. Thomas had been fantastic and basically told her to take as much time as she needed, and she’d been referred for therapy alongside the plethora of pills she was meant to take to help with the flashbacks and insomnia. It was slow going and she was surprised how lonely she’d been, given that she’d always been fairly happy in her own company. She was glad of her girls friends who’d been so good at coming over regularly and were content for her to sit in silence, or cry, or both.

Absentmindedly she picked up her phone and checked her messages. Again. One from Sally. Nothing from Jack. Again. She scrolled to their message chain, previously a non-stop back and forth between them both, now just messages from her down the right hand side and one or two words from him, sporadically. She missed him. She missed him so much it hurt sometimes. Every message he ignored, every call he didn’t pick up was another hurt, another thread between them snapped. Death by a thousand cuts. He was her best friend; she needed him. She didn’t think she could heal without him. And Mexico happened to them both. Surely he needed her too? Shouldn’t what happened to them have brought them together? Instead it seemed to have ripped them apart, something else that had been taken from her. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyes and flung her phone away.

She’d considered just turning up to his flat with pizza, like she’d done on many occasions before. But things were different now, things scared her that didn’t used to, loud noises, the dark, the tube. And the most inane things seemed to trigger a flashback, and leave her unable to function. She couldn’t go to him, not yet anyway, and so if he wouldn’t come to her then she was stuck.

She scrabbled around for her flung phone, finding it under the newspaper, flicking the home button automatically. Nothing.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2017 (S21)

Nikki sat in the waiting room taking a moment before heading back out into the noise and lights of London, flicking through possible music to listen to as she walked home.

She’d just had the second of her sessions with her new therapist and, unlike when she’d tried before, this time it felt good. Hard, but good. Unlike last time she had been ready, ready to face the trauma and what it had done to her. And unlike last time, something had finally changed between her and Jack; it wasn’t like it had been before, maybe it never would be, but there had been some reconciliation, he had finally started actually looking at her when he spoke to her, and they’d talked, only a very little, but more than they had since… well since those calls.

She knew he’d been hurting too. She’d been able to tell that as soon as she’d stated actually seeing him again; he was tense, and angry, and on edge all the time, all of his playfulness and spark gone. She’d hated it, and hated that he wouldn’t let her in, wouldn’t share that with her, even though she felt like she was the only person who would actually understand. Talking with her therapist had helped her to begin to understand the different ways in which people deal with trauma, and that she couldn’t force Jack’s journey to be the same as hers, or at the same speed, or even with her, much as she wanted that to be the case. However much she wanted to go back to how things were before, she had begun to accept that would never be possible because what had happened to them had changed them, both of them. And so they would have to start again, start piecing together who they were now and what that meant for their friendship. The fact that they even had a friendship at all was enough at the moment, that he answered her calls and made her coffee. The small things.

As if on cue, her phone beeped. Jack.

How was it?

Fine, hard but good. You ok?

Yeah. Naomi says hi.

Nikki smiled. She liked Naomi, she was good for Jack and she made him smile, which was more than she’d managed recently. There were moments when she was jealous that he found it easier to talk to Naomi than her, but then she’d had to remind herself that they were both a work in progress, and Naomi was part of Jack’s journey.

Adele or Ed Sheeran for my walk home?

The three dots appeared immediately. She smiled. The small things.

Neither. Dua Lipa. Much better!

Nikki put her air pods in, scrolled through to find Dua Lipa and headed out into the hustle of London in the evening. Lights, noise, traffic, hope.

Jack, 2017 (S21)

Jack reached sleepily to hit snooze on his alarm, his mind surfacing slowly. 6am, watery morning sunlight peeking through the curtains. Another day.

The last few months had been some of the hardest of his whole life, and there were points when he thought he had completely lost himself. He’d survived only by pounding his body everyday into the submission of sleep: run, gym, work, gym, run. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. No time to think too much, only loud music and the burn of lactic acid. And by cutting himself off from Nikki. Initially it hadn’t been a deliberate choice, he just couldn’t face her and the guilt of what he’d done to her, and then it had been a choice to ignore her calls, her messages, but only for his own survival; self-preservation. He’d gone to her house once, thinking he might pluck up the courage to call; he’d watched her answer the door to a friend, looking fragile and haunted, wearing sweats, no make up. So unlike the Nikki who’d existed before he’d damaged her. And so instead of seeing her, he’d turned and run all the way to his gym and punched the shit out of the bag. Again.

Nikki’s return to work had knocked him sideways. He’d thought he’d have some notice, some time to prepare, but one day she’d just been there again. Still lost, still fragile, and impossible to ignore. Looking back he knew he hadn’t handled it well but he’d thought she would feel like him, that seeing him would only resurface her trauma and hold her back, but he’d been wrong. Wrong about what she needed, and, ultimately, wrong about what he needed too. Survival was not enough, they both needed to heal and live again. And so there had been reconciliation. Slowly. Painfully slowly sometimes.

It wasn’t like before. Maybe it never would be. But it was better than it had been. He missed their previous relationship, the way they had fitted together like two parts of a puzzle; now it was like the two pieces had been bent out of shape and didn’t fit like they had done before. He still loved her, he figured he always would on some level, but he no longer fantasised about them being together. He’d never be able to be the man she needed, even if she would be forever seared into his heart; just a part of who he was.

His phone pinged. Naomi.

Gym at 7?

He smiled. Naomi had been like sunlight after a storm. All fire and heat and fun. He felt like himself when he was with her, felt able to relax and have fun. And he definitely wanted to see her this morning, so he dragged himself out of bed, scrabbling around for some clothes. As he was pulling a vest on, his phone rang. Naomi was keen this morning he thought reaching for the phone.

Not Naomi. Nikki.

He paused. 6:15am. He knew what this would be. These were the calls he hated; they were too like those calls. But he’d started trying to take them because he knew she needed him to.

“Hey Niks”

Silence, other than her breathing. He hated it.

“I’m here Nikki, you’re okay”

“Sorry Jack”

“No, no it’s okay. Nightmare?”

“Yeah. I just… I’m not dead am I?”

“No. You’re alive. We’re alive.”

“We’re alive.”

“We’re alive Nikki”

“Thank you”

He close his eyes and laid back on his bed. They were alive. They would get through this. Eventually.

Chapter Text

Jack, Christmas 2017 (S21)

Jack sat in his flat, absentmindedly picking at a box of Christmas chocolates, a half-headache playing around his temples. It’d been a shitty Christmas; last night he’d gone out to try and change that, drank too much and slept with someone who, honestly, he couldn’t remember the name of as he called her a taxi earlier. He wasn’t proud of himself but sometimes he hated Christmas, and the expectations that everyone was having fun. He’d tried to do the right thing this Christmas; he’d seen his Da, and even, eventually, gone and seen Ryan. It wasn’t his fault he’d had to work, but that had, at least, given him something to do. It was this bit, the hinterland between Christmas and New Year, that had been particularly shitty. The Lyell was shut, barring emergencies, and it felt like, for the first time really, everyone that he knew was playing happy families. Even Nikki. And he was lonely. Hence the random girl.

Last year, in this in-between, he and Nikki had gone to see Rogue One at the cinema. Which he’d loved and she’d tolerated. He’d vaguely wondered if she’d want to see The Greatest Showman with him this year, as payback, but, no, this year she was in Washington with Matt. Bloody perfect Matt. Rich enough to fly across the Atlantic on a whim, with his massive houses and charmed life. And running for bloody Congress. Of course that was the guy who was going to end up with Nikki. He couldn’t compete with that guy. He didn’t want to; he could never be good enough for her, he knew that. But it had been such a quick change, such a rapid dive into domesticity and step kids that it had made his head spin. He always and only wanted the best for her, and Christ you couldn’t have made up a better man for her, but he missed her. And he was jealous of what she gave to Matt that she used to give to him. Time, weekends, evenings, messages. He even missed the nightmare calls. They still saw each other lots, work made sure of that, but she just had less headspace for him outside of that. Which was okay. But he just missed it. Missed her.

He scrolled to their WhatsApp chat. She’d sent him a selfie of her and Matt in front of the Lincoln memorial, a sort of macabre reference to the case that brought them together. Mentally he calculated the time difference. 7am Washington. She might be awake.

You awake?

He waited, eating another chocolate from the box. Beep.

Of course. This is me.

How’s it going?

Lovely thanks. Matt has to work today so I’m going to explore on my own.

Jack felt a little flair of satisfaction that Matt wasn’t going to monopolise her today, even if she was on another continent.

I’m bored out of my brains.

I’ll send you photos of DC, you can live vicariously!

He typed out the words “miss you” and then deleted them, thinking better of it.

Ta x

He might no longer be Nikki’s best friend, but she was still his. And perfect-Matt wasn’t going to change that.

Nikki, Christmas 2017 (S21)

Nikki sat in a coffee shop, sipping a double espresso, enjoying Washington DC in its post-Christmas-pre-New-Year glow. It was cold, but bright and clear with lights and decorations continuing to festoon the streets. Matt had had to work today, so she’d spent the morning pottering around, seeing the sights, enjoying being on her own for a bit. It’d been a non-stop whirlwind of dinner, drinks, parties since she’d arrived and there were big plans for NYE tomorrow; Matt was most definitely one for big romantic gestures. Their whole relationship had been like that really, one big crazy whirlwind romantic gesture and she’d thrown herself in feet first, throwing all caution to the wind and it felt good, she felt alive like she hadn’t since Mexico. Her therapist had advised her to take things slowly, to test the waters, but she’d pretty much ignored that and jumped as hard and as fast as she could. Matt made her feel happy, and hopeful, and excited; these were good things, things she wanted to run towards not away from.

She picked up her phone and flicked through the photos of her time in Washington, lots of selfies of her and Matt, making memories to last til the next time they could be together, Washington DC at Christmas, now posted all over her instagram. Then she remembered she’d promised to send Jack some photos, selecting a few and taking a quick selfie with her espresso and sending them via WhatsApp. What time would it be in London? 5ish. Maybe he’d have found something to do.

His speedy reply suggested he hadn’t.

Well jealous.

Then

I’ve watched Die Hard and Die Hard 2 today. That is all.

She laughed, imagining him like a caged lion. He wasn’t good when he was bored.

Go for a run?

Too hungover

Go anyway!!

She idly wondered how drunk Jack had got last night and what he’d done with that. Since he’d broken up with Naomi he’d been back to his old habits of one night stands, for which she didn’t judge him, she’d been there herself more times than she probably wanted to have been, but she did wonder if he’d ever want to settle down; he had so much to offer, he was such a good guy, one of the absolute best, so it was surprising he’d never really translated that into anything long term with a woman. Matt found their relationship unusual and she’d had to assure him more than once at the start of things that nothing had ever happened between her and Jack and they were just best friends. Matt maintained that he didn’t think it was possible for a straight guy and a straight girl to be best friends, and that Jack must be in love with her which, initially, she found funny and then, when she realised he actually meant it, annoying. It was probably the only thing they’d properly disagreed about; she accused him of not being very progressive and he said she was naïve about men.

She didn’t deny that her and Jack had a connection, something more than simple friendship, but that was borne out of five years working together, of shared experience and shared trauma particularly. There had been moments in Mexico, and in the aftermath, when she’d wanted more from him than friendship but he’d never made any moves which suggested that’s what he wanted and so they’d reforged their relationship as friendship, deep and meaningful friendship, but friendship not romance. Love but not in love. Thinking about it, it probably was unusual, and complicated, and she probably needed to give Matt a bit of slack as he got used to it.

I’ll go for a run but if I die then you have to come home to do the PM.

Deal. Now get off the sofa you slacker!

Complicated or not, Jack was part of her life and so Matt would have to work that out. She was sure he would; he was basically perfect after all.

Chapter Text

Jack, 2018 (S22)

Jack stretched out his leg; the tables in this place weren’t designed for someone his size. His date, Hannah, was in the bathroom and so he used the moment to uncurl himself from the small table and rearrange himself in a more comfortable position. Hannah was nice, and he could tell that she liked him. He already knew that, if he wanted, he’d be able to walk her home and get an invite in. But he also knew that, in the morning, he’d find an excuse to leave and then then an excuse not to see her again. And he’d tell Clarissa she was nice but just not really his type. And Clarissa would raise her eyebrows at him knowingly and then find a way to remind him that Nikki had a boyfriend; she wouldn’t explicitly connect the two but they would both know what she meant, and that she was right.

He rubbed his eyes, and topped both wine glasses up. It’d been a long week, to and fro from Brighton, and he was feeling the effects of the travel and the long hours. After a week like this one, he’d normally invite the others back to his for food and time to decompress, but Max had put his foot down saying Clarissa needed to come home and Matt had taken Nikki back to Brighton, sweeping in in his usual style and booking the best suite at the Grand Hotel on the seafront. And so, as an empty Saturday night loomed, Jack had turned to Tinder for a date and found Hannah, who was nice and normal, not something you could take for granted on Tinder. And yet…

He got his phone out, wondering how Nikki was. It’d been a big week for her too, and not just because of work. He wanted to call her, he wanted to check she was okay. But she was with Matt, and that was where she needed to be. He knew it wouldn’t be cool to interrupt, to impose himself on their time. Realising that Nikki might have a baby with Matt, that that’s where there relationship was at, had hit Jack powerfully over the past few days. A baby was permanent, long term, serious, and it had made him realise that he’d been waiting for things with Matt to fizzle out, rather than accepting that, for Nikki, that wasn’t the plan, not this time. This was it for her, and seeing her disappointed rather than relieved when she’d not been pregnant had been a stark indicator of that to Jack. Nikki wanted Matt, she loved Matt; she wasn’t waiting for him like he was waiting for her. Jack had had his heart broken before but this was different; this was a thousand tiny heartbreaks, every time she chose Matt over him, every time she wasn’t his. And that meant he had to find a way to move on, to stop comparing all the women he met to Nikki. Problem was, he just didn’t know how to do that. He felt stuck. He didn’t know how to forget Nikki, she was like a song stuck in his head, a cipher to which he compared everything, everyone. He liked other women, they were just never… her.

“Sorry, there’s always a queue for the ladies!”

Hannah’s voice brought him back to the date he was on, and he looked up at her hoisting a smile onto his face.

“I’ve topped your wine up”

Hannah smiled at him and he felt his heart sink. Could he ever be truly happy with someone else whilst Nikki Alexander walked the earth?

Nikki, 2018 (S22)

FaceTime buzzed itself out. It has not been possible to connect your call. Nikki flopped back onto her sofa deflated and frustrated. It’d been an awful week for her, professionally, and she’d not been able to speak to Matt at all. They’d exchanged some texts, and she was glad of that of course, but she wanted to speak to him, for him to reassure her, tell her that he didn’t care if she had made a mistake, he loved her regardless. But it had not been possible to connect her call. The downsides of a long distance, transatlantic, relationship had really bitten this week. The time difference, the mismatched schedules, the empty house at the end of a long day.

She got up and wandered to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It wasn’t all bad, far from it. Matt was brilliant and she loved being with him. Despite the time difference and the mismatched schedules, they managed to speak several times a week, usually. Just not this week. And she was managing to get to the States once a month, returning on the red eye in time for work on Monday morning. Although after the PC Francis case she knew she probably needed to rethink that, or at least be more circumspect in her social media posts. But long distance was long distance. She knew that, if she wanted more, then they would have to talk about one of them moving and that was a subject that they scrupulously avoided. Matt was gearing up for the elections in November, after that they would know a bit more where they stood. If he was elected then he would have to stay in the US, if not then the UK might be a possibility, but not if he wanted to try again.

They didn’t argue about it, they mostly just avoided talking about; the only thing they argued about was Jack. Which was utterly ridiculous in her opinion, and made her sad if she dwelled too much on it. She wanted them to be friends, Matt and Jack; her boyfriend and her best friend. But Matt remained jealous of the amount of time she spent with Jack, despite that being almost exclusively work-related these days, and distrustful of his intentions, still claiming he was in love with her. Jack had once, playfully, crossed Matt’s name out in her diary and written “Jack forever” which Matt had seen and taken as absolute proof of Jack’s plan to seduce her at work and steal her away from him. She was exaggerating of course, but that was because it drove her mad. Even if Jack was in love with her, which she seriously doubted, then he was not acting on it and she wasn’t encouraging it, so it just felt like Matt didn’t trust her. And that was more of a problem than the long distance thing, for sure.

Her phone pinged. Matt.

Sorry I missed your FaceTime. Can we do 6pm my time? I’m completely back to back til then xxx

She sighed. 6pm his time was 11pm hers. The dregs of the day was all that they got together. But it was better than no time at all so she text back in the affirmative. She checked her watch. 7pm. A whole evening to kill, and she was bored and lonely already. And in danger of retreating into her head in the bad way.

Her phone pinged again. Jack this time.

Clarissa and I are having a drink at The Thatcher’s Arms if you want to join? We’re celebrating that what we do matters!

She hesitated, mentally calculating the time there and back, not wanting to miss Matt, but also wanting to see Jack and Clarissa, wanting some work-family time outside of the Lyell, something she’d had so little of recently.

Yes please. Mine’s a large Pinot Grigio. I’ll be half an hour… and I’ve got to be back for 11.

Matt got you on a curfew?!

Something like that. See you soon x

Jack, 2018 (S22)

Jack caught the barman’s eye and ordered Nikki another Pinot and him a pint of Doombar. When Clarissa’s taxi had arrived he was sure Nikki would also bail, but she’d surprised him by agreeing to stay for one more drink. It’d been so long since they’d hung out outside of work just the two of them. He knew why and he got it; he didn’t wanted to be that guy again, the guy that got between two people who loved each other, definitely not when one of those people was Nikki. However he felt, and that was a complicated beast these days, if Nikki wanted to be with Matt then he would not get in the way, he wouldn’t be the other man, just the best friend. She was due on FaceTime with Matt at 11pm and he would make sure she was there, best friend style. Still, it was nice to be here with her, especially as it’d been such a hard week for her, and he was happy to make the most of it.

He paid for the drinks and carried them over to their table. Nikki looked up at him and smiled and his insides did their familiar squeeze. It was incredible how after so many years, he did some quick maths - five nearly six- she still had that effect on him, she still blew him away.

“Thanks Jack” she said, still smiling up at him.

“Ah that’s alright. It’s been a while since I’ve bought you a drink!”

“I’m sorry Jack, I’m sorry for not being around as much”

Her face fell and he felt awful, he hadn’t really meant anything by it.

“Hey, no, no, it’s okay! I didn’t mean anything. I know things are different now and that’s okay.”

She smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes in the same way. Idiot Jack! He cursed his stupid mouth.

“Thanks. Sometimes I think this whole long distance thing is crazy”

Jack sat down, pondering the unexpected turn of conversation. He’d always assumed everything was perfect between Nikki and Matt, it always seemed to be.

“What’s brought this on? Not trouble in paradise surely?”

She fiddled with the stem of her wine glass and he wondered if he’d got the tone wrong.

“No. Not really. It’s just, on a week like this, it’d be nice to be in the same place as Matt, the same time zone even. Do you think long distance can really work Jack?”

He took a sip of beer, weighing his options. There was a part of him that wanted to tell her no, to scream at her that everything she wanted was right in front of her, that he was here, in London, GMT, but he squashed that down. Best friend Jack. Best friend.

“It doesn’t matter what I think Niks. Are you happy?”

“Yes. I mean, it’s hard sometimes. Like now. When I’ve had a bad week and I can’t see him…”

“And you have to settle for me instead?!”

She swatted his arm playfully.

“You know what I mean!”

“Hard doesn’t mean bad. If something is worth fighting for then fight for it. You’re a fighter Nikki, I’ve always said that!”

“I just sometimes want things to be easy you know?”

Then pick me, pick me!!! He took another swig of his beer to give him a moment to quiet his inner monologue.

“Where’s the fun in easy eh?”

She smiled at him. And he knew then that he could never leave her, never be the one to separate himself from her. If she left then he wouldn’t follow but otherwise he’d be here, with her, waiting. In case she changed her mind. In case she ever wanted to be his. It probably was pathetic. But it was what it was.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2019 before (S23)

Nikki kicked off her heels and dropped onto the Lyell’s leather sofa, the smell of fresh pizza drawing her away from her computer and out of her work shoes.

“They smell delicious Thomas, thanks!”

Thomas had insisted on getting them pizza at the end of the day to celebrate his birthday and to thank them for the cake and the card, which had been Jack’s handiwork, and the kite, which had been Clarissa’s. Hurray for more organised people than me she thought, tucking into a slice of pepperoni and curling her feet up under her.

“Don’t eat all that pepperoni Alexander!”

Jack’s appeared at the door, clearly also drawn by the pizza, and flopped down next to Nikki on the sofa putting his feet up on the table.

“Happy birthday Thomas!”

They ate companionably for a while, enjoying rest at the end of a busy working day. In the middle of a case like this one Nikki knew there wouldn’t be much rest and so it was kind of Thomas to carve out this moment for them. She only wished Clarissa was back at work to enjoy it with them.

“So, Nikki, how’s the other half? Back on the wagon after his election defeat?”

Nikki looked at Thomas. She never really knew how to answer questions about Matt at the moment. Things with Matt were fine. Fine. But not like they felt at the beginning. At the start it was all big sweeping romance and the distance felt like just another romance; flying to see each other, talking in the middle of the night, letters in the post, but now those things felt like constraints, barriers even. The whole incident with the plane crash had highlighted to her how little they actually knew each other which, after two years, felt unbelievable, but perhaps was just the symptom of long distance; it slowed things down. But what if it slowed things down so much that they just ground to a halt? That was the thought that niggled away at the back of her mind, what if things were fizzling out? What if they were both just letting things fall apart?

“Uh, he’s okay thanks. Already gearing up for 2020, no rest for the wicked”

She thought her and Matt would talk about things after his election defeat, but neither of them had really brought it up and so things just trundled on. They hadn’t argued about it or anything, just not really addressed it. She knew that wasn’t a good thing, but also knew that was because of neither of them wanted to move, so what was there to discuss? They hadn’t even argued about Jack recently, but she wasn’t sure that was a good thing either, another symptom of their general malaise, of everything carrying on as normal, but not going anywhere. It made her head hurt if she thought about it too much - she didn’t want to have invested two years of her life into another failed relationship, another loss, another heartbreak.

Something of her melancholy must’ve showed on her face as Jack nudged her knee with his and, when she turned to face him, he mouthed:

“You okay?”

She smiled at him. Good old Jack, such a constant in her life, through all the ups and downs, he was always there, always good, always on her side. The upside to her being in the US less was that she was seeing more of him again; nothing inappropriate, just the occasional drink or takeaway, sometimes here or at his, sometimes with the others. Whatever happened with Matt she would always have her Lyell family, she’d always have Jack, so fundamentally she was okay.

She nodded at Jack to reassure him and he raised his eyebrows back at her as if he didn’t really believe her.

“Whisky! That’s what this party needs! Thomas?!”

Nikki laughed at Jack, and at Thomas as he obediently hurried off to his office where they all knew he kept a secret stash of the good stuff. She was so lucky to have these men, and Clarissa, in her life. And tonight she wanted to enjoy that, and not worry about anything else.

Jack, 2019 before (S23)

Jack took the whisky from Thomas and poured generous measures for them, passing one directly to Nikki and nudging her again.

“To absent friends?”

Nikki smiled at him again, his insides flipping as they always did when they shared moments like this, like he was seventeen again at some house party. He wanted her to be happy, and he was worried that she wasn’t really, but there was time to talk about that some other time. For now his old instinct took over - look after her, protect her, love her.

“Absent friends” she said, raising her glass and touching his briefly and knocking the whole thing back in one.

He belly laughed. Nikki’s ability to drink most men under the table was legendary and she was clearly in that sort of mood.

“Okay kids, I’m going to make a move. I want to see Rosie before it gets too late”

Thomas gathered up the leftover pizza.

“Can I take this for her?”

Jack and Nikki both nodded their ascent expressing further birthday wishes and gratitude for the pizza.

“Remember to lock up, and if you drink more of my whisky then don’t drive home!”

As he watched Thomas leave the room, Jack felt Nikki uncurl herself next to him on the sofa, and he turned to face her. She ran her hand through her hair, which had been brunette rather than blonde for the last few months. She’d said she just fancied a change, and he remembered reassuring her that it looked great when she’d arrived at work the next day. It did look great, but given he always thought she looked great he probably hadn’t been the best person to ask. She could’ve dyed her hair blue and he’d still think she looked amazing, that no other woman could compare. He took a sip of his whisky, trying to reign his thoughts in. He’d allowed his feelings for her to get dangerously close to the surface recently; he wasn’t sure why but something had shifted again between them, nothing tangible, but she’d definitely let him again, flirting with him again, coming over to his sometimes. He knew it probably didn’t mean anything to her, she was still with Matt, and he still felt the old feeling of inadequacy, but it had begun to feel intoxicating again, begun to overwhelm his carefully constructed defences. Like one day he would just accidentally tell her he loved her, it would just spill out of him without him realising.

A blush crept up his neck as he realised he’d just been staring at her as he mused, and she was looking at him curiously,

“Are you alright?!” she said, a slight tease obvious in her tone.

“Aye I’m grand” he recovered quickly.

“But I’m pretty sure Thomas just gave us permission to drink the rest of his whisky!”

He looked at the bottle; there was probably a couple of very healthy doubles left in the bottle. It was a work night, and they were in the middle of a case involving the army which were always full on, but he felt reckless, and he thought Nikki did too. In fact, he was certain she did.

“I’m game if you are Hodgson. Or are you too sensible these days?!”

He downed what was left in his glass and shared the remainder between them.

Nikki, 2019 before (S23)

Nikki laid her head back on the arm of the Lyell sofa, her legs stretched out across Jack’s lap. The second large whisky had definitely been a mistake, she could feel it blurring the edge of her consciousness, but she’d got caught up in the fun of letting go, of forgetting about work and even about Matt, and enjoying herself. She and Jack had chatted nonsense, debated politics and generally put the world to rights. It had felt like the old days, before Mexico changed everything between them, like they’d finally walked far enough around the world that they’d ended up where they started from. She didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to go to bed alone, didn’t want to wake up with a headache and no one to complain to, but they’d been sensible and Jack had booked an Uber which he was tracking on his phone: 5 minutes til home time.

“Jack?”

“Yeah” he replied, still looking at his phone.

“Do you ever feel like life is just passing you by? That we’re missing out on life by working instead?”

He looked up at her.

“Nikki I don’t think anyone could say you’ve missed out on life! What’s brought this on?”

“Dunno. Maybe just the whisky. But I’m in my forties and sometimes I don’t think I have much to show for forty something years…” she trailed off, already thinking she’d said too much, inhibitions lowered because of the alcohol.

“Well, given I’m not forty yet…” he winked, and she swatted at his knee with her foot.

“Seriously, Niks, don’t overthink it. Age is just a number. You’re amazing at your job, you have a lovely home, your partner is bloody running for Congress, and you’re the most beautiful woman I know in real life. Seriously, you put too much pressure on yourself sometimes…”

Her heart did a little involuntary squeeze at his words; what would she do without him? She nudged him again, affectionately, with her foot.

“You’re one to talk…”

“I know…”

They lapsed into silence. No one had told her she was beautiful recently, not even Matt, and even though the feminist in her wanted not to care, it was still nice to hear and sent a little shiver down her spine.

“You cold?” Jack said, misinterpreting her shiver, taking off his hoody and throwing it at her.

“Uber’s nearly here so we’d better lock up”

Despite not actually being cold, Nikki took his hoody and put it on. It was enormous on her but as she zipped it up and snuggled into it she felt the familiar safe feeling she always felt with Jack, and she shivered again.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2019 after (S23)

Conor held another disposable cup of hospital-coffee out to Nikki; hot and bitter and the burnt tang of milk in boiling water. It was a routine they were in, one coffee after another, tag-teaming, so that someone was always at Jack's bedside, well behind the sheet at Jack's bedside. Conor was taciturn, even more so than Jack, and they often sat together in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable silence, more a common lack of words, always fearing, sometimes even preparing, silently, together for the worst, for the bad news.

Jack was still in isolation, still hooked up to the machines keeping him alive. He was conscious in fits and starts, sometimes trying to speak, telling his Dad he loved him. He’d used that word love more than any other, croaking it out so it broke her heart, still unaware that Thomas was dead, unaware of Thomas’ sacrifice. There was a raw and ragged grief inside of Nikki when she thought of Thomas, she couldn’t think about it for too long, or it threatened to consume her. And she needed to be here for Jack; she needed Jack to pull through, she couldn’t live with him. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and then Conor’s hand on hers, calloused, squeezing. Like Jack he was surprisingly tactile, and she relished his comfort.

“Why don’t you go home for a bit Dr. Alexander? I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Call me Nikki, please” she replied on auto-pilot. She’d spent three days trying to get him to call her Nikki.

“Why don’t you go home for a bit, Nikki” he tried again.

She sighed. She was exhausted, but, wired on hospital-coffee and adrenaline, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep; it didn’t come naturally to her at the best of times and this was not the best of times. And there wasn’t anything else she could do. Work was her default escape but the Lyell was shut, needing decontamination, and she and Clarissa had, understandably, been told they wouldn’t be able to play any further role in the ongoing investigation pending the various inquiries that would need to be set up.

“I don’t know what I’d do at home. I think I’d just want to be back here. Do you mind if I stay?”

“No, not at all. I know Jack will want you to be here when he wakes up Dr Alex… I mean Nikki. You just seem tired.”

She smiled at him, fiddling absentmindedly with the cords of Jack’s hoody that she was wearing, the one he’d given her when she wasn’t cold, the night before all of this. It seemed a lifetime ago and, when she’d found it on the back of a chair at home, she’d put it on, snuggling into it again, smelling the faint musky Jack-smell, and hadn’t really taken it off since; unzipping it and wearing it like an oversized cardigan when other people were around, and then zipping herself back into it when it was just her and Conor. She realised that she’d frayed the ends of the cords by accident and would have to offer to get him a new one, an offer she knew he’d refuse but she’d do anyway. She could play the conversation they'd have in her head, how he would tease her and she would pretend to be offended, how he would call her shorty and she would secretly love that he had a nickname for her. Her breath hitched and she choked down a sob, feeling Conor’s hand on hers again.

“I just need to know he’s going to get better Conor”

“Me too darlin’, me too.”

They sat hand-in-hand, waiting, fearing, preparing, for the worst.

Jack, 2020 after (S23)

Jack paused as he spotted Nikki and Clarissa waiting for him, his chest tight again, a symptom of both the trauma his body had faced but also grief at the loss of Thomas, who they were here to celebrate together. He took as deep a breath as his lungs would allow, taking another moment alone before he made his presence known. The summer sunlight danced, and he steadied himself.

It’d been a long road to recovery, weeks in hospital and many more on bed rest, and then sofa rest, at home. He’d tried, obviously, to speed the process up but he’d found his body just wouldn’t let him and so he’d been forced to accept a very gradual recovery. A global pandemic hadn’t helped, and he’d had to make do with visits from friends though windows and on the doorstep. It’d been a lonely and difficult time, and that he was able to meet the others, and Rosie, legitimately on Hampstead Heath, felt almost unreal, but also brought home to him the enormity of what had happened in the more than nine months since he’d collapsed in that wood. Thomas and Lucy Vail were dead; Thomas had sacrificed himself so that an antidote could be found and he could recover, it was almost too much to contemplate. But he wasn’t going to pretend it had been easy, he couldn’t pretend it had been easy.

Nikki and Clarissa were sitting together, watching something on Clarissa’s phone. Not much social distancing, though they had continued to work together throughout lockdown so he understood. They’d both been brilliant at keeping in touch, in whatever ways were allowed by the Government, but he’d definitely been jealous that they were able to keep working together. Coming back to work with his lung function, even on reduced hours, had been non-negotiable, but it now looked increasingly likely that a vaccine would be available soon, and so there were finally plans to get him back into the Lyell; working from home bring pretty much impossible in his line of work.

Clarissa saw him first and smiled.

“Better late than never!”

He smiled back at her. She was such a gem and he loved her so much. She’d stayed on at the Lyell longer than originally planned, holding the fort, but now it looked like he’d be returning to work shortly she’d formally handed in her notice so it was official that they were no longer work colleagues, just friends.

“I’m not going to miss you for one minute!”

Before he realised it, Nikki was up and running towards him, social distancing clearly be damned. He’d seen her in hospital before the pandemic and then on the doorstep a few times, and she’d been amazing at calling him, checking up on him in the guise of picking his brains about cases, and delivering food in the early days when he couldn’t get out and his Da was meant to be shielding. But this felt like the real reunion, him on his feet, back to normal, kind of.

She flung her arms around him, and he felt her stretch up on tiptoes to reach. He almost lifted her off her feet as he pulled her to him, enjoying proper human contact for the first time in months. And not just any human, but Nikki and her familiar Parma Violets and coconut smell. It was almost overwhelming. He’d had plenty of time to think, almost too much time really, and rationalise as he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his head, or his heart; he didn’t want to. He knew she was unavailable and so all he could do was wait in case that ever changed, and love her from afar, and so that was what he was doing. Now wasn’t the time to move on, he just couldn’t, maybe that would come later when he was better, when air travel to the US re-opened, when the pandemic was over. He’d worried for a while what he might have said when he was properly ill, he only had very snatched and blurred memories of those first few days, but if he had said anything inappropriate then Nikki wasn’t mentioning it, and was clearly not holding it against him. He’d had to continually remind his Da that Nikki had a boyfriend who wasn’t him; Conor appeared to be equally besotted with ‘the beautiful doctor’ as he called her.

Nikki pulled away from him, leaving her hands on his chest and he had a vivid sense of what it would be like if she was his, if he was hers; he’d want to always be holding her.

“You made it then?”

Nikki, 2020 after (s23)

Nikki felt almost like she was in a dream as she watched Rosie flying her dad’s kite, flanked by Clarissa and Jack, sunshine warm on her face. After months of isolation, death and grief, to be here, to be in the sun, felt almost unreal. If only Thomas were here too…

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she thought again of Thomas, of watching him die a hero’s death to save Jack and all the others who’d been exposed to the nerve agent. His funeral, delayed because of the various inquiries, had eventually happened just a week before the Prime Minister had announced a national lockdown which, despite initially being planned for three weeks, had stretched into months. Lockdown had stopped her seeing Jack in hospital or even once he’d been discharged other than on the doorstep; had stopped her flying to the US to see Matt; stopped everything other than work and even that had to be done so differently and distanced. The timing of lockdown, and being thrown into a national emergency, so soon after Thomas’ funeral meant she knew that she hadn’t processed her emotions, the grief, the gap; it was like the pandemic had frozen everything and it was only now, as restrictions eased, that her feelings began to thaw. She, Jack and Clarissa had discovered Zoom and had weekly work-family hangouts online, once Jack was up to it, and, once people were able to meet outdoors, they’d agreed to meet to celebrate Thomas together, to honour him and his life and his part in their Lyell family. This morning, getting ready to leave the house, to do something other than work for the first time in months, Nikki had broken down in long overdue tears; weeping for Thomas and for Rosie, weeping for the damage to Jack’s lungs and his lonely recovery, weeping for her country.

She stole a glance at Jack, who remained absorbed in his own thoughts; she was scarcely able to believe he was here, in person, and recovered enough to be coming back to work. There had been so many points when she didn’t think he’d make it; long hours behind that damn plastic sheet, watching and waiting with his Dad, only able to communicate via a mobile, and then hours when he just slept, his body trying to recover, and then a bloody global pandemic. Just at the point when Jack could start to get back into the world again, the world shut down. She’d done everything she could to be there for him as restrictions allowed; they’d binged The Queens Gambit and Umbrella Academy together on Netflix Watch Party, and then signed up to Disney+ to watch Hamilton and pretend they were at the theatre. Clarissa and Max had challenged them to quizzes via Zoom, and she’d called to pick his brains about cases as often as she could justify it. It never felt enough; she knew he really just wanted to be back at work, and she wanted that too, more than she’d ever really admit out loud, just to be able to see him in the flesh everyday. And now here he was, ready to come back. She still couldn’t believe it.

Jack turned and caught her looking at him and smiled.

“I’m not about to collapse!”

“Yeah I know. It’s not that, it’s just, it’s so good to see you in real life not on a screen…”

He smiled again at her and squeezed her arm.

“You too shorty!”

“You know I heard that US travellers might not have to quarantine from next month.”

She was momentarily taken aback by his change of subject, disappointed even. Matt. She hadn’t seen him since Thomas’ funeral, months and months ago now. Like so many others, the pandemic had kept them apart physically, but they’d managed to keep up their regular Sunday night calls, 5pm his time, 10pm hers. It was routine, it was safe. She wasn’t alone, she had Matt, she just couldn’t see him because of the pandemic. These were her rehearsed lines, yes it was hard, but only like for many other couples separated across the world because of the pandemic. Deep down she knew that it wasn’t just the pandemic that was keeping them apart; things had drifted before flights had been grounded, before quarantine periods and mandatory testing. But she wasn’t ready to face that yet, for now she needed to keep things safe, to keep the routine.

“It seems to change every day. Matt’s worried if he comes here he might get stuck here. The election's in November.”

Said out loud like that it seemed a damning indictment of their relationship. Matt was worried he might get stuck in the UK, stuck with her, and miss the election. Nikki saw a flicker of something show in Jack's eyes: Pity? Concern? Maybe even anger she couldn’t tell. And then he dropped his gaze and it was gone.

“Thank goodness for Zoom then!”

She didn’t want to talk about Matt with Jack, it was too complicated, she didn’t even know what she thought, how she felt. Now wasn’t the time to work that out, she just couldn’t, maybe that would come later when the election had happened, when air travel to the US re-opened, when the pandemic was over. Right now, at least she had Jack back in person, that was more than enough.

Jack stretched his arm out and then along the back of the bench behind her, and for a moment she thought he was putting it around her. The thought hung in her mind for a moment even though his arm stayed firmly on the bench, and she wondered for another moment if maybe she was disappointed. She blinked, knocking the thought away. Summer sun and being able to be with people, with Jack, again, that was the only thing worth dwelling on.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2021 (S24)

“Hi there. You’ve reached Jack Hodgson. If you leave a message I’ll get back to you.”

As Jack’s voicemail beeped Nikki debated internally whether to leave him a message. She knew if she asked him to call then he would, but now that the moment had passed, the nightmare had receded, she didn’t know what she’d say. She ended the call and lay back on the sofa trying to process her emotions, and the fact that she’d called Jack and not Matt. Her nightmare calls were always reflex, a need to hear a familiar voice, even on voicemail, to anchor her back in reality, a need to do something so she knew it had only been a dream. In the aftermath of Mexico, when the nightmares started, she’d always called Jack, instinctively, even when she knew he wouldn’t answer. But once she’d got together with Matt, it’d been him she’d called, or woken if he was in the same bed as her. The fact that she’d instinctively called Jack just now, gave her more than pause for thought. When she’d called Jack before, after Mexico, she’d wanted more from him than friendship, she’d wanted to be with him, for them to be together. Whilst those feelings had all been wrapped up in her trauma, they had been real, she was sure of that. It was one of the reasons her therapist had advised her to take things slowly with Matt, to make sure that she wasn’t transferring feelings for Jack onto Matt, replacing one figure of security with another. She’d pretty much ignored that advice, and thrown herself completely into being Matt’s girlfriend; partly because it felt like it freed her from the trauma of Mexico, trauma that she and Jack shared but had dealt with in such different ways.

Things with Matt had been on the wane for a while, they both knew it, and their Covid-enforced separation had really only confirmed that. But that was quite a different thing to come to terms with than having possibly, accidentally even, fallen in love with Jack, with her best friend. And yet. And yet… things were different between her and Jack; easy, soft, exclusive even. Initially she’d just put it down to him being so unwell, then the weirdness of the pandemic, then that Clarissa had gone and it was just the two of them left in the work-family, but increasingly none of those explanations worked. It wasn’t just the nightmare call. She knew she gravitated towards him, she cared what he thought, she caught herself looking at him, smiling at him for no apparent reason. And she was jealous of any other women who expressed an interest in him, more than ever before. Problem was, after Mexico, he’d only come back to her, only being able to talk properly to her, once he was with Naomi, once any possibly of anything more than friendship was off the table. And then she’d been with Matt. They’d always had the safety net of romance being unavailable, they only managed to navigate getting to where they were now with that safety net of friendship-only. She just didn’t know what they’d be without that safety net.

She flopped back onto the sofa. It was too much to think about now. This case, Scott Weston, that was enough to completely consume her at the moment. How she felt about Jack had always been complicated, of course she loved him after all this time, that was not in question, but was she in love with him? And Matt? She knew she probably needed to end things with him, but it was terrifying to think of being officially single again after so long, of the possibilities that opened up with Jack, possibilities that included him rejecting her again. Nikki didn’t know if she could bear to lose him all over again and so, with an increasing familiarity, she squashed her feelings down and got up to go back to work.

Jack, 2021 (S24)

Nikki had left a while ago; Jack had polished off the rest of the wine and tidied the pizza boxes away, but his mind was racing and so, instead of going to bed, as he knew he should really, he was pacing. Round the living room, occasionally into the kitchen where he’d open a random cupboard, look vaguely at the contents and then pace back out to the living room and start the process again. One of the many things he loved about Nikki was her willingness to challenge him, to stand up to him, even when he was angry and upset, however it was always easier to appreciate that with hindsight rather than in the moment. They’d parted this evening as friends, him apologising for shouting at her, and her accepting his apology with grace, but her words had buried into his brain and he’d ruminated on them well past his bedtime and into the small hours, pacing.

Thing was, Nikki was right; he was jealous. He felt that he deserved to be Cara’s dad more than Ryan. But either he was Cara’s dad or he wasn’t, and that wasn’t dependent upon how good, or how worthy, or how anything he was. And the same was true for Ryan.

Hours of pacing had got him to this point: being a father wasn’t something someone earned; it was something someone was. And that was both freeing and terrifying all at once. If he was Cara’s dad then he wanted to be the absolute best father that he could be, but his status as a father, or alternatively as an uncle, wasn’t based upon on how good he was at either, how well he'd done at everything before, how few mistakes he'd made.

Nikki had once told him, fiercely, not long after Mexico, that he had nothing to prove and he’d always thought she was wrong. He always felt like he had everything to prove, to her, to his family, and now to Cara. He always felt like he was fighting against his family, his upbringing, his mother, his class, fighting to prove that he was as good as others around him, worthy of love, of family, and now of fatherhood. But what if you didn’t have to earn those things? Couldn't really earn them even. What if you just accepted them as life gave them to you, and they in turn spurred you on to be the best that you could? It spun everything upside in his mind - how he felt about Cara, about Ryan. Even how he felt about Nikki. He’d always felt that he wasn’t good enough to pursue a relationship with her, especially after what had happened in Mexico, but maybe he didn’t need to feel that way? What if it was enough for them to love each other and for him to try and be the best he could?

Suddenly, in a moment, a whole world felt like it might have opened up to him. Possibilities that he’d thought impossible - fatherhood and a relationship with the women he’d been increasingly in love with for, what, 7 years now? It made him feel a bit giddy, until he remembered that Nikki still had a boyfriend, at least he thought she did. She was definitely keeping her cards close to her chest about that at the moment, unlike at the start when she was full of stories of how Matt had taken here or there, or bought her this or that. Recently, though, they never talked about Matt; Jack was broadly fine about that as it meant he often forgot about his existence and just enjoyed being Nikki’s best friend. But it remained the case that it wasn’t just his inferiority complex which meant they’d stayed as friends, it was Nikki’s relationship with Matt. There was no way she would cheat on Matt, no way he’d do that to Matt either, whatever he thought of how he treated Nikki. So maybe that one was still a dead end, for now at least. But he was still definitely something to Cara, whether uncle or father remained to be seen, but either way he was something to someone which, just a few months ago, was unthinkable.

He got out his phone; 1:37am. Tomorrow he was going to regret the pacing, but he felt lighter than he’d felt for a long time. There was still a lot to process, and a lot unknown, but it definitely felt like this evening had been a breakthrough, or at least the start of something like that.

He was just turning off the lights downstairs when his phone rang, the buzz in his pocket making him jump and reverberating around the shadowy hallway. Nikki. His heart leapt into his mouth with panic; Nikki hadn’t called him in the middle of the night for years, something must be wrong.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Jack, sorry, I.. I didn’t think you’d pick up, I just… I just needed to hear a familiar voice…”

“That’s okay. Is everything alright?”

“Yes. I just had a nightmare that’s all, and… “ she trailed off, and realisation dawned on him.

“You’re okay Niks. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, this is enough. Sorry it’s late, I thought you’d be asleep…”

“Too much on my mind I guess”

“Yeah I get that.”

Jack lay back on his bed, and exhaled, suddenly feeling exhausted as the weight of everything that had happened over the last few days bore down upon him. He stifled a yawn, trying not to let Nikki know how tired he was; he knew she sometimes needed time after a nightmare to unwind.

“Jack, you need to go to sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Clearly the stifling was unsuccessful.

“Promise? I don’t mind staying up if you need me to.”

“I know. And I’m so grateful that we’re friends like this again. You know, after everything.”

“Yeah, me too Niks”

“See you tomorrow then, go to bed!”

“See you tomorrow.”

He took the phone from his ear and ended the call. It hadn’t escaped his notice, tired as he was, that Nikki had called him tonight not Matt. Not Matt. He didn’t know if it meant anything but it was another piece of the puzzle that suddenly felt up in the air.

Nikki, 2021 (S24)

Nikki lowered herself into Thomas’ chair, it’s familiar squeak causing a pang in her chest for both Thomas and Leo. Out of habit really, she spun herself around in the chair, as she tried to calm her racing heart. The office was currently unused, waiting for its next occupant, drawers empty and shelves bare, except for a photo of the old Lyell-family, Nikki, Thomas, Clarissa and Jack, which Clarissa had snuck out of Thomas’ personal effects at some point and left on the empty shelves. She got up and picked up the photo, their former selves smiling out at her from this very office, suited and booted for some charity event. She felt a mixture of sadness and nostalgia; she missed those days, but it was time, time to move forward and not to be defined by the past. That’s what she’d just told Jack, and that was what she was going to do for herself too.

She sat back down, chair squeaking in greeting, and scrolled in her phone. Matt Garcia.

It was time for her to end things with Matt. She’d rather do it in person but that might mean waiting months, and she needed to use this moment before it was gone and she could squash everything down and ignore it again. It wasn’t fair on Matt to keep things going for the wrong reasons; it was time to be brave and step away and into the unknown. Simone had said that there was a difference between love and loyalty, and that had resonated, bouncing around her head, burrowing into her brain. Whenever she’d thought about ending things with Matt, and she’d thought about it a lot over the last year, she always ended up repeating his good qualities to herself: he was successful, rich, charming, kind, fun. And he was all those things and more probably. And she’d repeat to herself all the good times they’d had over their relationship, and all the things he’d done for her. And they were all true, all good. And she’d end up talking herself out of it - why would you end things with someone like that? He wasn’t unkind to her, he didn’t treat her badly, he wasn’t inpatient with her, he hadn’t hassled her to move to the US. So she’d always stayed. Loyalty. But not love. Not anymore. He didn’t make her heart beater faster, she didn’t daydream about him, didn’t count down the day until she could see him. There was someone for whom all that was true, increasingly so, but it was not true for Matt. Not anymore. It wasn’t about Jack, not really, it was about needing to be honest about how she felt about Matt. And that Simone was right, there was a difference between love and loyalty.

Nikki looked down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the call button, heart in her mouth. She’d had this crazy idea earlier that she and Jack could go to karaoke after work to celebrate the end of this case, and as her thumb hovered and her heart pounded she decided that she would use her first evening as a single woman to definitely do something crazy like that, with or without Jack.

She took a deep breath and hit the call button. It was time.

Jack, 2021 (S24)

Jack joined in the clapping as Nikki exited the stage, still half-mesmerised by her, by the song, by the moment. She was radiant, alive, different somehow, he couldn't put his finger on it. Kicking back after a long week, yes, but also something more. And he felt like she'd been singing to him, which maybe was crazy, but that's how it felt.

And through it all he offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong

She arrived back at the table and he couldn't help reaching his arm out to her and slipping it round her waist, just briefly, in celebration of her performance. He was always surprised by how small she was, how fragile, how he could wrap her up completely in his arms. She did a mock sort of curtesy and sat back down, picking up the remnant of her G&T and downing it.

Jack leaned in to her ear, so he could be heard over the rather drunken rendition of It's Raining Men which had just begun:

"I didn't know you could sing?"

"You don't know everything about me Jack!"

"Clearly..." he replied, though more to himself than to her. The performance at the front had increased in rowdiness and Nikki was smiling at them, still clearly enjoying the moment. She pointed at her glass and then at the bar and he nodded, watching as she weaved towards the bar, pausing to greet Simone on the way.

Jack felt himself smiling, unable to help himself, re-living the song, the way Nikki looked at him, allowing himself to dwell on her in a way he usually didn't dare to. Something was different. He didn't know what it was, he didn't know what it meant, but something was different. He felt an anticipation in the air, in him even, and he enjoyed feeling swept along by it.

He wasn't Cara's father, but he was her uncle, they were connected and he was going to do everything he could to be there for his niece. And Nikki. Oh God, Nikki. He didn't know what was going to happen, maybe nothing still, but it felt different, and it felt good. And he was happy, as happy as he'd been in ages.

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2021 (S24x9)

Nikki stood at her car, watching Ollie stroll off back in the direction of the university and turning over the Halloween party invite in her hands. She’d not been to a party, as oppose to a function or an event, for ages, years maybe, and it felt tempting; to dance and drink and embrace being single and not having to account for her time to Matt, or be home for 10pm so they could speak on the phone. Ollie was brazen, she knew that, but it was flattering; she couldn’t deny that it felt good to be pursued and wanted. It was, of course, completely unethical and out of the question that anything would happen, that wasn’t what was tempting, just the fun, the youthful exuberance, reliving the student experience. She could handle Ollie.

Her phone pinged and she put the invite in her bag and pulled out her phone. Jack. Jack. She sighed. She’d been trying to find a way for days to tell Jack that she’d split up with Matt, trying and failing. She’d planned to tell him at the karaoke night, fuelled by G&T, but Simone had been there and it just hadn’t felt like the right time. And then they’d been at work, and she still hadn’t managed to do it. Problem was, it felt big; bigger than just news about her relationship-status, bigger because for her it was bigger than that, it was an invitation to him to consider her, for them to have an opportunity to be more than friends, but what if it wasn’t big for him? What if she told him and everything just carried on as normal, and he silently and without even knowing broke her heart and ruined their friendship, a friendship which she totally relied upon. She felt like a rabbit in headlights, unable to tell him, unable to give him the information which could either make them or break them.

She opened Jack’s message:

Wish me luck then!

Nikki was confused. Luck for what?

?

I’m taking that risk.

Shit. He was going on that blind date with Simone’s friend. Her heart dropped. She hated the idea of him out with another woman tonight, suddenly terrified he’d actually fall in love and she’d lose him, lose the opportunity to be with him. And this one was her fault, and bloody Simone's, but mostly hers. She’d encouraged him, she’d told him to do it. Her automatic self-preservation defences kicking in, pushing him away, pushing him into the arms of someone else. She was an idiot.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do x

Nikki couldn’t bring herself to wish him luck, she felt stupid and stuck. He was out on a date with another women, someone who was probably a lot less complicated than her, a lot less scarred, and she'd told him to do it. In that moment she decided that she would go to the Halloween party tomorrow and have a good time, pretend to be young, enjoy the attention; it was worth the inevitable hangover. If Jack didn’t fall in love with Simone’s friend then maybe she’d be brave enough to tell him that she was available for dates herself, maybe she'd dare to take a risk like she'd pushed him to.

She scrolled down to the Postgrad WhatsApp group and messaged:

I’ll come and judge your party costumes tomorrow - looking forward to being wowed by you all! NA.

Jack, 2021 (S24x10)

Jack sat on his sofa flicking through the channels on the TV trying to find something, anything, to take his mind off the events of the morning, to drown out that prick Ollie's voice which played on a loop in his mind, calling Nikki back to bed, stabbing him in the heart again and again. He could find nothing to watch, nothing that he cared about even a bit, and he threw the remote against the wall in frustration, watching the batteries skitter across the floor. How could everything be so golden one moment, and then turn to ashes the next? Did Nikki know how she controlled him, how she could lift him up and then throw him down, in a moment, without even meaning to? He felt hot, angry, jealous tears rim his eyes again and he balled his fists trying to stop them; he felt like he was underwater, unable to reach the surface and breathe properly again; he'd cried on his Da like a little boy, like he'd fallen off his bike and grazed his knee, cried until his head hurt and his chest shuddered, mirroring the pain in his heart.

Nikki had kissed him. He tried to wade back in his mind to the kiss, to before it was all tarnished. She'd kissed him, and he'd kissed her back, unexpected but also not, also like it was the most natural thing in the world. He'd stopped feeling cold, he'd stopped feeling anything except everything that he felt for her, exploding in his head, dancing butterflies in his stomach, anticipation racing through his heart. And then she'd gone, waving the taxi on, and leaving him to re-live the feel of her skin on his, the taste of her lips, the familiar smell of her perfume taking on a whole new sensation. He'd been like a teenager in the first throes of love: elated, confused, arosed, excited. He’d waited for that kiss for years, dreaming and daydreaming and, in the moment, it was all that he’d imagined and more. But then the raw taste of jealousy in his mouth, like blood, cold and metalic, neutralising the joy, turning everything bitter. He knew that Matt made things complicated between them, but somehow him in the States, distant and remote, was different to Ollie, here and in her bed, and a fucking student; someone who, unlike him or even Matt, should have no place in her bed ever, who could get her fired. The jealousy had begun to harden into anger, anger at Ollie, at Nikki, at himself for allowing himself to believe that Nikki felt anything for him, other than pity.

The door opened and Conor came in, looking worried.

"You alright, son?" he said, gesturing to the remnants of the TV remote.

"Ah, yeah, sorry Da, I'll fix it"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About the TV remote?!"

"About whatever’s got you looking so awful?"

"I just feel guilty about not being here when you fell, Da, that's all..."

"Is it?"

Jack paused. His Dad knew him too well, and he'd not wept on him like this for years, decades even. And yet, he didn't have the words, and knew that he couldn't speak badly of Nikki, however much his heart ached.

"I just thought... something was going to work out which hasn't. I was wrong, it's not going to happen."

Conor looked at him, and Jack dropped his gaze, not knowing what more he could say.

"Is this about a woman, son?"

Jack sighed.

"Yes, Da, a woman"

"Heartbreak and guilt. No wonder the TV remote is broken."

Jack looked up at his dad and laughed, for the first time since getting home.

Nikki, 2021 (S24x10)

Nikki paused at Jack’s door, taking a moment. Everything was so messed up; she’d messed everything up. And Jack wasn’t taking her calls. It wasn’t just that he was in trouble, she was, of course, worried about that, but she’d hurt him. Hurt him like she’d never done before; she'd felt it rolling off him in waves at the Lyell earlier, when she realised that he knew about Ollie, didn’t just know, but cared. Cared that she’d moved straight from Ollie’s bed to kissing him. Of course he cared, she was such an idiot. She put her hand to her head which was throbbing, partly because she was hungover but also because of a growing sense of despair. She’d not been able to talk to Jack before because she was scared he’d hurt her by only wanting to be friends, and now she’d managed to hurt him and push him away all in one go; they weren’t even friends anymore. She always did this, walled stuff up, pushed people away. Oh God, and Jack had called her so many times that night when he was stuck at the care home, what if she’d picked up and been able to talk him out of doing something stupid instead of making her own stupid mistake with Ollie.

She needed to see him, needed to sort this out, one way or the other. She rung the doorbell, praying that Jack was home, but it was Conor who answered the door.

“Dr Alexander”

“Hi, is Jack here?”

“No I’m sorry, are you okay?”

“Not really…” she felt her breath hitch as she spoke, not knowing what to do next.

“Come in, try calling him again?”

“He’s not taking my calls”

She tried anyway, but he ended the call after just a few rings. She lowered the phone from her ear feeling lost. If she couldn't talk to him, how was she ever going to sort this out, how was she ever going to make sure he was alright?

"Shall I try?"

Nikki watched as Conor dialled Jack's number and felt a strange mixture of pain and relief as she heard his voice answer.

"Da?"

"Hi Jack, I'm with Nikki. She really wants to talk to you."

There was silence from Jack's end, as Conor passed the phone over. She wished he would speak, say something, anything, even tell her to piss off, but there was just the sound of the car engine, he must be driving somewhere.

"Jack?"

Silence.

"Jack, do you know what happened before Derek Galton died?"

Silence.

"Please talk to me Jack. Please let me help you."

Silence.

Nikki looked up at Conor, trying to imagine that he was Jack.

"We get through everything together. You know I'll always be there for you."

Silence.

She turned away from Conor, hitting the end call button. It was hopeless. She had messed it all up. She felt tears prick at her eyes. How could she have been so close, have kissed him, had such a beautiful moment with him, and now have lost him?

"Sorry Nikki"

Conor's voice was tender and it tipped her over the edge. It wasn't like Conor hadn't seen her cry before and, as the tears fell properly, she felt his arms surround her and she wept into his neck.

"I've hurt him Conor. I've messed up"

"Just give him time."

She looked up at Conor and smiled weakly. She just needed to speak Jack. She needed to tell him about Matt, like she should have done ages ago, she needed to tell him that Ollie was a drunken mistake, that Ollie didn't mean anything, that she wasn't trying to hurt him, that kissing him had made her head spin and her heart race, that she wanted to do it again, and again, whenever she wanted to. That he was the only one.

"Would you mind if I stay, wait for him to get home?"

"Of course not. Do you want some tea?"

Jack, 2021 (S24x10)

Jack scrabbled for his keys in his pocket and opened his front door, the familiar smell greeting him; he was continuing to fight the must from its previous vacancy.

He threw his keys on the sideboard on autopilot, taking off his jacket. He sighed deeply; it’d been an awful few days, both professionally and personally, and whilst he’d just come from the police station and he was now no longer thought to be a murderer, the other things, the personal things, the Nikki things, they remained as confusing and painful as before. Whilst his anger had subsided, he just didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t go on like this; if Nikki didn’t feel the same way he did, even just a little bit, then he could only conclude that he’d have to leave the Lyell, even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, even though he couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing her every day, his heart just couldn’t take it.

He walked through the hallway towards the lounge, thinking he definitely deserved a dram of whisky tonight. The house was dark, other than the hall light which Conor always left on for him if he was out, and so he didn’t see Nikki, asleep on his sofa, until he was almost upon her. He felt his heart contract and his mouth go dry as he realised that she was here, in his house, waiting for him, waiting long enough she’d fallen asleep. A smile came unbidden to his face, he couldn’t help it, she looked beautiful, peaceful, and she was here waiting for him. A thrill of hope shot through him, melting the rest of his anger away.

Jack knelt down quietly in front of her, taking her hands in his. He loved her so much, he was happy to keep waiting for her, as long as she needed, but he needed some reassurance that there was even a possibility of something happening between them, otherwise he would have to be done. He moved his left hand up to her forehead, brushing a strand of hair off her face, as he’d imagine doing hundreds of times and she stirred, opening her eyes and smiling a sleepy smile at him that caused his heart to flip right over.

“Hey” she said, sleep slurring the edge of her voice slightly.

“You’re back”

“Hey” he said back, caressing her forehead with his thumb.

He stayed like that, just looking at her, his hand still in her hair. Waiting. After a moment she closed her eyes again and then spoke, softly, carefully.

“I broke up with Matt.”

Jack let her words hang in the air between them for a heartbeat. He knew already, because Ollie had told him, but it was different hearing it from her, his hands still in hers. Then it had taken all the fight out of him, thinking she was passing him over, again. Now it was different.

“Yeah. Ollie told me.”

He’d tried to keep his tone neutral but Nikki snapped her eyes open.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?” he didn’t want to sound petulant but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“It felt big”

She closed her eyes again, sinking back into the sofa, but keeping hold of his hand in hers.

“It felt big, for us.”

Us. Us was a beautiful word on her tongue, a hopeful word. He squeezed her hand slightly, hoping to reassure her.

“And… I didn’t go to that party planning to sleep with Ollie. I drank too much, it was a mistake.”

“Did he force you?”

She opened her eyes again, and shook her head slowly.

“No, Jack, and I never meant it to hurt you.”

“It’s not my business who you sleep with… but…”

He paused. Nikki was right, it did feel big.

“… I was jealous.”

“Sorry,” she breathed more than spoke.

There was more to say, he knew it, and he figured she did, but it was really late and this felt like enough for now. They’d have plenty of time to finish this conversation, or start a new one, in the days to come. Now it seemed best to leave it there and get some sleep. The possibility of ‘us’ was open, he could keep waiting for now. He felt a thrill of electric anticipation race through his body as he got up to get her a T shirt to sleep in.

“Do you want sofa or bed Niks?”

She smiled up at him, and the anticipation intensified.

“I’m happy here Jack, thanks.”

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2021 (S25)

Nikki felt the light dancing on her face, despite her eyes remaining closed, felt the warmth of the sun through the window. She allowed her mind to surface from sleep slowly, luxuriously, remembering where she was, and who she was with. Remembering the feeling of Jack's body on hers, her hands in his hair and down his back, how it'd been simple and mind-blowing all at the same time. She opened her eyes slowly, half fearing she'd just had an amazing dream, but he was there, next to her, arm thrown over her protectively, still asleep, and she breathed a satisfied sigh of relief.

She tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to wake him, wanting to enjoy this moment, a moment she'd waited for and wanted for longer than she'd ever admit. No walk of shame, no sense of regret, just her body still tingling with his touch and the best night's sleep she'd had in ages. It'd been a absolutely crazy few days, just two days ago she thought she'd pushed Jack so far away that she'd lost him forever, and now he was here in her bed and she didn't want him to go anywhere ever. Last night she'd almost bottled it, again, almost left him to go to his room on his own. They'd had a half conversation the night before when she'd stayed over at his, both thinking they'd have lots of time to follow that up the next day, but then the Health Secretary had been killed, Sam Ryan had called, and they'd decanted to Liverpool on a helicopter. Shit timing, Jack had called it, and it had been, almost. Now they were here, in a nice hotel, together. Not so shit after all.

Nikki shifted positions, as carefully as she could, turning to face him. She couldn't help tracing a finger down his bicep, feeling the well defined muscle, and entwining her fingers in his. He stirred, and she watched as his eyes fluttered open and soften as they saw her, his fingers flexing inside hers.

“Good morning” he said, sleepily, beautifully half-awake.

They’d fallen asleep, in the small hours, limbs tangled together, as much skin on skin as possible, almost clinging to each other. She’d woken later, mouth dry from the whisky and her arm numb under him. She’d got up to use the bathroom and put some shorts on, and he’d pulled her, wordlesslessly, back into bed and into his arms where she’d fallen immediately back to sleep.

“Good morning!” she replied, stretching out still finding it difficult to believe they were here, like this, and that it didn’t feel awkward.

She propped herself up on her arm, looking at Jack, who was grinning his lopsided smile at her; he was looking at her in that way that he did, intense, like he was trying to look right into her soul. She held his gaze, enjoying being able to look at him without feeling self conscious or inappropriate. She had thought it might feel like they’d taken a big step, sleeping together after so long as friends, but it felt like this is where she should’ve been for years, rewinding and only being his. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat.

“Why did we wait so long to do that?!”

He laughed and pulled her down on top of him and she felt him stir against her thigh.

“Just means we have a lot of time to make up for!”

She kissed him, allowing herself to melt into the kiss, and felt his hand running down her back. As he reached her lower back, she threw her head back catching sight, as she did, of the clock on the wall.

“Shit. Jack. The time!”

She leapt off him and he groaned rolling over and burying his head into the pillows.

“Ah Nikki, let’s call in sick. When did you last take a day off?”

“We’re investigating the assassination of the Health Secretary and we’re due in a briefing in, shit, 15 minutes!”

“Spoilsport”

She turned on her way to the bathroom and grinned at him. She felt a lightness, a sense of fun and exhilaration, that she hadn’t felt for ages.

Jack, 2021 (S25)

Jack settled himself into Nikki’s sofa as she made them coffee in the kitchen. He glanced around her living room, he’d been here before, lots, but it was different this time. Now he was here after a date with her, admittedly a terrible choice for a first date from him, but they’d recovered it well enough, finding a cosy bar further down the road in Soho and were now back out west at Nikki’s, which was a much more grown up home than his work-in-progress one. He’d half worried that there would still be photos of Matt up, which there had been last time he was here, but there was just a photo of the old Lyell-family, him, Nikki, Clarissa and Thomas, which Nikki had said she’d lifted from Thomas’ office at some point.

It’d been an unbelievable couple of weeks, almost more than he could process. It was early doors, it was baby steps, but they were trying it out, giving it a go, and it was more than he'd ever have imagined, even a few months ago. The first twenty four hours, after finding her on his sofa that night, had been electric and when she’d finally invited him into her room that night they’d had the most amazing night; it’d been like a dream, waking up with her, with the taste of her all over his skin, his arms round her. They’d hit reality pretty quickly after that, the reality of their lifetime of scars, of her default setting of handling things on her own without him, of what it meant to work together in this new context. It was all new and different and exciting and complicated all in one incredible package. And he wouldn’t change it for the world, because he wouldn’t change her, none of her, not even the bits of her past that were hard and that he wished she'd not have to have gone through. She was who she was and he wanted her just the way she was, and he planned on making sure she knew that every day.

“Do you need a hand Niks?” he called, realising she’d been gone for a while.

“I’m okay, just looking for something, hang on.”

The worst part of the past two weeks had been the night after they'd slept together, when he'd thought that maybe she wanted this to be a Vegas-type arrangement, or a friends-with-benefits, and he'd panicked that he'd already allowed himself to fall too deep to make that work. He knew that he was further ahead on this journey than she was, that's where eight years of unrequited longing would get you, and it'd been a fairly miserable night on his own thinking she might just break his heart straight away. Finding out about her ex-husband had almost been a relief, almost. And the baby. Christ, the baby. His heart ached for Nikki and her lonely grief and guilt, walled up and rewritten. But together they would face it, when she was ready, and not before.

He got up and took the Lyell-family photo down from the wall. He remembered this day, they were all going to a chaity fundraiser. How Thomas had persuaded him into a tux he couldn't remember, but he did remember Nikki in that dress, he remembered rescuing her from some lecherous rich prick, hand on the small of her back, guiding her away, letting the rich prick assume that they were together, her whispering her thanks to him, sending the obligatory shivers down his back. Navigating from that, from best-friendship, to this, more-then-best-friendship, that was actually the biggest challenge. Knowing how to be there for her, but not to smother her, knowing how to see her every day at work, but also date her outside of work; he didn't want them to miss out on that early, fun, exciting stage, just because they were already friends, not to skip ahead too far, before they had built a foundation.

She finally came back into the lounge, two coffees in hand, and something held between her teeth, an envelope.

"Sorry" she said through the envelope, putting coffee down in front of him and sitting down next to him.

"You okay?"

"Yes. I wanted to show you something, just couldn't find it"

She dropped the envelope on the table in front of him.

"I told Simone today that it’s okay to rewrite the past until you’re brave enough to face it.”

“Mm hmm”

“You were right, I am scared to face what happened with Tom… and…” she trailed off, and Jack took her hand.

“Nothing you can tell me about your past will change me wanting to be here with you now. But you don’t need to tell me anything if you’re not ready to let me in. I’ll always be here Nikki, always.”

She looked up at him, her hair falling over her face, still made-up from their date. His heart had done a little dance earlier when he’d realised that she’d dressed up for him, for their date. The small steps from friendship to more-than-friendship.

“I know. I want to be brave. So I want to show you those” she indicated the envelope on the table.

He picked it up at her encouragement and opened it, taking out two photographs and turning them over in his hand. The first was Nikki and Tom on their wedding day he assumed, he in a dark suit and she in a white dress. They were young, happy, carefree. Her hair long, longer than he’d seen it. Tom with his arm around her.

“I was six months pregnant” she said simply.

Jack put the photo down on the table. The second one was the baby; tiny, perfect looking, wrapped in a blanket, looking just like she was asleep. He felt tears prick his eyes, and heard Nikki’s breathing rag next to him.

“She was called Lily,” was all she managed, and Jack enveloped her into his arms as she sobbed. He kissed her hair and murmured to her.

“I’m so sorry Nik.”

She looked up at him, mascara-smudged and as beautiful as ever.

“Will you stay Jack?”

“Not going anywhere”

He couldn’t, even if he tried.

Chapter Text

Jack, Christmas 2021 (S25)

Jack watched Nikki walking back towards him, a portion of roast chestnuts in each hand, smiling at him, the late winter sun silhouetting her against the river. She was exquisite, he felt like the luckiest man in all the world.

“Happy Christmas, again!” she said as she handed him the nuts.

They ate them leaning on the edge of the bridge overlooking the magnificent Thames as it flowed past Parliament on one side and St Thomas’ Hospital on the other. Jack didn’t really like chestnuts, but Nikki had been so delighted to see the vendor out on Christmas Day, he hadn’t the heart to say no. He balanced the chestnuts on the side of the bridge and put his arm round Nikki, sometimes he couldn't believe that he was allowed to do that, that she didn't shrug him off or tease him about it.

“Happy Christmas, again!”

Christmas had been a difficult one to navigate. It was his first one without his Da, and their first one as, well, a couple? More-than-friends? It was a bit early for labels. He'd wanted to spend it with Nikki, but he also hadn't wanted to scare her, or overstep the mark, so, classically, he'd said nothing, and she'd said nothing, and they'd had to be rescued by Simone who'd invited them both to join her and Gloria for Christmas lunch. Thinking about it, they probably owed an awful lot to Simone and her gentle meddling; he was going to miss her so much when she went in the New Year. And so they'd both worked Christmas Eve, shut the Lyell early and gone back to Nikki's, ordered a takeaway, and watched The Holiday. And then a lazy morning in bed together, a very expensive black cab to Whitechapel, and a riotous Christmas lunch at chez Gloria complete with the most nuclear cocktails he'd ever had. It'd been a blast, one of the best ever. Once lunch was done, he and Nikki had taken a cab back into town, deciding to get out in Westminster and then walk through the parks, which they'd checked were open, and back out to Nikki's, or maybe he'd persuade her to come to his. He'd struggled a bit with being at his since his Da had died, and it was always better when Nikki was there, but he couldn't deny that her place was nicer than his.

"Shall we carry on then?" she said, turning to face him.

He wrapped up his chestnuts and put them into his bag and then held his hand out to her, which she took, and they walked hand-in-hand across Westminster Bridge and onwards towards St. James' Park and Green Park. They didn't often hold hands like this, he wasn't sure why, probably because they often walked places together in a work-context where it wouldn't be appropriate so they hadn't gotten into the habit. He liked it though, it felt intimate in a way that he couldn't really describe, and it marked them as being together in a very real way to those they passed and exchanged Christmas Day greetings with.

Jack loved London. His home would always be Belfast, but he loved London nonetheless. It was such a sprawling mishmash of the ancient and the modern, the classical and the brutal, one place melting into another with no clear delineation, people of all shapes and sizes, the whole world in one place, and the River Thames, running through it all, holding it together. He'd never pass as a native Londoner, but he loved discovering new things about the city, new routes from east to west, or north to south, knowing how the city fitted together above ground as well as below, not minding walking when the Tube stopped running. And the parks, nowhere had city parks like London. Their plan was to walk through St. James' Park, then Green Park, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, and then probably give up and find another cab. He was amazed at how many people were out on Christmas Day, walking off their turkey dinners and brandy, taking the dog out, everyone jolly and friendly, like they were all old friends.

"Jack?", Nikki's voice brought him out of his reverie.

"Mmm, hmm?"

“I don’t normally like Christmas…”

“Me neither actually.”

“All the pressure to have a good time with family. I haven’t had family for so long now…”

“Yeah, family is a weird one”

“What I mean, is this has been perfect. You and me, Simone and Gloria. That’s family isn’t it? In its own way?”

“Absolutely. Family is more about love than genetics. Look at my mum, that’s not family.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that all up, and with Conor not being here either.”

“Nah that’s alright. Here is where I wanna be, with you, and Cara, that’s family for me”

Nikki stopped walking and he spun round to face her. They were in St James’ Park, the light just beginning to fade, orange beams dancing across the lake. The air felt like it had changed between them. He knew that she wanted to say something and that there was no point in rushing her, she would only let him into her head when she was ready. They both watched the pelicans hoofing around the edge of the lake, not yet ready to roost, and eventually Nikki spoke.

“Lily would have been twenty three. Older than Cara.”

It was the first time Nikki had mentioned her baby since they’d spoken about it after the dinner in the dark fiasco, maybe a month ago. Jack had a hundred questions he wanted to ask, a hundred suggestions to make, but he knew Nikki, and so he’d bitten them down. He knew that she would only be able to let him in further when she was feeling brave enough, and when she trusted him enough. And that was always going to take time, however good friends they’d been before this more-than-friends. That she was speaking now, Jack knew to be a big deal, for her and for them.

“Studying science like her mum?”

Nikki smiled, and Jack felt something, maybe pride, maybe just love, beating out of his chest. She was smiling while talking about Lily.

“Or the exact opposite, just be contrary!”

It was Jack’s turn to smile, and he took her hands in his, drawing her closer to him.

“What exactly is the opposite of science?”

“Religion?”

“Ooof Niks, on Christmas Day?!”

She laughed, gently, and put her head on his chest. He enclosed her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

“Lily will always be a part of you Nikki, and so she’ll always be a part of us.”

Nikki, Christmas 2021 (S25)

Nikki couldn’t remember a better Christmas Day than this one, as she stretched out on her sofa, her legs wrapped around Jack who was reading a book, London Boroughs at 50, that Gloria had got him for Christmas. He was wearing his glasses as their long walk across town had dried his eyes out. She loved him in his glasses, mostly because it was one of the sides of him that only she really got to see, but also because they made him look absolutely adorable. She prodded him gently with her foot.

“Hmmm?” he said, absentmindedly grabbing her foot.

“How’s the book?”

“Yeah it’s good. Did you know that St Martin-in-the-fields actually was in the fields when it was built - between Westminster and the City of London?”

“Well, I guess that makes sense?”

“Yeah, it does, I just never thought about it before!”

He went back to reading his book, still holding her foot, and she looked at him. She loved that he was often completely dorky like that, learning about niche things, became obsessed with certain topics, but also was still the cage fighting boy from Belfast, still tempted to use his fists before his mouth, always wanting to look after those less able than he was. He was a delightful mix, keeping her on her toes, refusing to conform to any stereotype. And he made her so happy, she couldn’t quite believe it sometimes. They’d been together for about two months, and whilst they were taking it slow, for both their sakes’, she felt a contentment with him, a security, that she’d honestly never known before, not even with Matt. She knew why, it was because she’d let him in, not just to her life or her bed, but to her heart, and specifically to the bits of her heart that she kept walled up, that she’d not shared with Matt in three years. Talking about Lily with Jack, and about Tom, that was something that she would never have thought possible, something she’d not done with anyone for twenty years. And yes, her hand had been forced by circumstance, but maybe the stars were just aligned so that it was now, it was Jack, it was them together who dealt with this. Jack had been brilliant, understanding, gentle, non-pushy, all the things she needed, able to do that because despite them being together only a short amount of time, that came against the backdrop and on the foundation of their friendship for, crikey, nearly nine years now. Nine years where they learnt about each other and learnt to trust each other, and now they were reaping the benefits of that.

She wiggled her foot out of his grasp and poked him with it again to get his attention.

“I know we said no presents, but I got you one anyway”

She hadn’t known until this moment whether she was going to give it to him, but she knew she didn’t care if he hadn’t got her anything, he’d already given her so much. Jack put down his book and looked up at her.

“I got you a present too…”

They both smiled at each other, and she leapt off the sofa to get Jack’s gift which she’d hidden under her bed. She handed it to him, a large flat rectangular package, and sat back down to watch him open it.

It was an old map of London, dated 1784, titled A New & Correct Plan of the Cities of London & Westminster & the Borough of Southwark. She’d got it because he loved London, and its history, and because he needed art for the walls of his house. But there was another reason which meant when she’d seen in Borough Market she had to get it for him.

“Hey this is so cool!” he said.

She smiled and shuffled down the sofa next to him, and pointing just below the Thames.

“This is the River Neckinger, before it was buried underground.”

He looked up at her quizzically.

“The River Neckinger? Isn’t that…”

“From our very first case together yeah, that girl who drowned after being thrown into the overflow. That was it wasn’t it?”

Jack’s face broke into an infectious lopsided grin, and she knew she’d done good with the gift. He ran his finger from her forehead down to her chin, the map slipping slighting from his lap between them as he shifted position.

“Yes that was it, I’ll never forget that case, I’ll never forget how it felt to work with you for the first time. You had me at hello, and all that”

“Nine years ago?!”

He shrugged, his hand dropping from her face to her knee.

“More or less. Just took me a while to convince you…”

Nikki paused a moment to process. All this time? For her it’d been such a gradual thing, it almost caught her unawares; Mexico had been a moment of realisation, but she’d just always assumed he didn’t feel the same, at least not until recently. It was sobering to think they could’ve had this all those years ago, but then, maybe it wouldn’t have been this, wouldn’t have been the same without the intervening years. Jack always said that the past didn’t define us but it did shape us; they were both shaped by their past but what mattered was now, was here, was where they chose to go, not where they’d been.

“It was always shit timing with us Jack”

“Well here’s to no more shit timing then”

Jack placed the map on the floor and kissed her, slow and languorously, and she allowed her head to spin.

“Thank you for the map, and for trying this out with me after so long.”

She wanted him to kiss her again, she wanted her head to spin again and him to take her to bed, but instead he got up and got something out of his bag - her gift, a square box, wrapped in brown paper with a bow.

“I got you something too” he said simply, holding it out to her.

She took it and carefully opened it, given how beautifully it was wrapped. It was a jewellery box, too big to be a ring, she definitely wasn’t ready for that. She lifted the lid carefully and felt her heart stop for a beat as she saw what was inside. It was a beautifully delicate silver chain with a beautiful silver flower hanging from it, a single silver lily, petals open, exquisite. Her mind grasped around for something to say, it was a lily, Lily, for her to wear, to show off, a beautiful Lily.

Nikki looked up at Jack, at this amazing man who got her, who understood more of her than anyone ever had, who was hers, and she smiled as a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Thank you Jack. It’s perfect.”

“I love you, Nikki”

“I love you too.“

Chapter Text

Jack, 2022 (S26)

Jack felt his eyes drift from the road and blinked himself back into the moment, hitting the steering wheel to get the blood flowing again, and taking a swing of the Red Bull in the centre console. He was knackered, and driving back again from the Brightwire festival site which was right on the edges of Greater London, back to the Lyell in Southwark. It was a 45 minutes drive with no traffic, and this was London, there was always traffic.

He looked at the clock on his dashboard, 7:46pm. The sun was just beginning to drop, low in front of him as he drove back west, and making his tired drive even more hazardous. He was also starving, but needed to drop evidence into the Lyell before he could go home and find something to eat. His thoughts flicked on autopilot to Nikki, as they always did when he thought about home. He’d not really seen her all day, thanks to all the bloody travelling to and from Havering, which was so far east it was basically Essex, but maybe if he was quick at the Lyell he’d manage to swing by hers later. Things were great with Nikki, better than great, basically perfect, all he’d ever wanted and more. They’d made it to six months last month and, while he’d not wanted to freak Nikki out by mentioning it, it had been a Bank Holiday so the Lyell was shut and, miraculously, neither of them had been called out meaning they’d spent a happy and uninterrupted day at Hampton Court Palace in the spring sunshine; it had been heaven.

It was days like today when he wished they’d broached the living question, so he’d know he’d always see her at home whatever happened at work, but, other than blurting out an invitation to move in with him when they were both freaked out during the Italian mafia incident, it hadn’t felt right, or appropriate yet. Nikki liked her own space, needed it often, and he was still conscious of not wanting to rush things, or put pressure on what had been an amazingly smooth start to their relationship. Before he’d bought his new house, which was deliberately north of the river and closer to hers, she’d come to look round it, and he’d enjoyed watching her size the space up and agree that it was a great house. And, of course, he only ever decorated it in ways that he knew she’d like, taking her advice, buying what she liked. For now, though, they had their own homes and they spent time at both, not every night, maybe three times a week. Toothbrushes in both, and a growing collection of clothes in each other’s wardrobes. And he now also had Cara to consider, so keeping things stable was more important than ever.

He scrolled though to find Nikki’s number and hit the call button, wanting to see whether she’d be up for him coming over later if he had time. He suddenly had a real longing to see her, to decompress with her and not on his own, to watch TV with her legs on his lap, as she liked to.

“Hey Jack, I was wondered what’d happened to you.”

“Sorry, Havering is a long way away!”

“How far out are you?”

He glanced at the Sat Nav.

“Five maybe, depends on traffic over the bridge. Are you at work then? I thought you’d have scarpered ages ago?”

“I thought I’d wait for you.”

His heart bounced at her words; she wanted to see him too. Sometimes he had a niggling worry that he needed her more than she needed him, that he would always be deeper in this than her. Nikki had always been an island, that would never change, he didn’t want it to change, didn’t want her not to be her. But it was still nice that she’d waited for him.

“You didn’t have to”

“I know. I missed you this evening. Didn’t want to go home on my own. Also, there’s always stuff to do here…”

His heart bounced again; she missed him. He loved it when she staked a claim on him, it always gave him a thrill.

“Are you hungry? I’m starving…”

“I could eat. But I’m here alone…”

Jack’s head exploded and he suddenly didn’t feel tired or hungry anymore.

“Five minutes Nik!”

Nikki, 2022 (S26)

Velvy left the room to call DCI Gibbs about the bracelet and, as Jack made moves to do likewise, Nikki grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Are you going to explain what that was all about back there?” she said, gesturing back towards their shared desk.

She was a potent mixture of confused and jealous, which had been building layer upon layer since Aoife arrived into their lives, and Jack had now added upset into the mix, talking to her like she was a child, like she’d been the one getting everything wrong.

“What do you mean?”

“All the ‘you were wrong’ stuff!”

“I just meant, with Aoife, you were wrong not to care”

She felt anger flash though her, unexpectedly strong. She did care. It was almost all she’d cared about since that damn women had walked through the Lyell doors and she’d only been trying to do the right thing, the grown up thing. Trying to put Jack and Cara first.

“I did care. I do care. That’s not fair Jack”

The anger flattened into sadness and disappointment, in Jack, in them as a couple, not connecting like they normally did, in Aoife for coming between them like this. She watched Jack’s emotions play out across his face, he always kept them so close to the surface, but for the first time in a long time she couldn’t read them and she felt lost.

“Sorry Nikki, it’s just, I thought you’d feel something more, I told you what Aoife was doing…”

Jack’s phone rang, cutting him off, crying like an insistent child. He looked down at it, and then back at her briefly, before picking it up with a customary “yep” and stalking out of the room.

Left alone at Velvy’s desk, Nikki felt like a huge chasm had just opened up inside her, threatening to swallow her. How were they fighting? They never fought like this. They debated and argued yes, they disagreed, frustrated each other, but they didn’t fight, they didn’t hurt each other like this. How could he think that she didn’t feel anything? Feeling was all that she had. Jealousy, confusion, anger, frustration. All of it.

Her phone pinged. Jack.

I’m going to the hospital with Jill to see the journalist.

She flung her phone down in frustration, allowing herself a moment to feel everything all at once, and then muscle memory took over and she squashed it all down and got back to work.

Jack, 2022 (S26)

Jack sat in his car outside Nikki’s, his heart pounding in his ears. He’d hated the past few hours, knowing that things with Nikki weren’t right and not being able to do anything about it. Work had entangled him, he’d let it entangle him, and when he’d finally got back to the Lyell she’d already gone. No message; just gone. And he’d sat head in hands at his desk knowing he needed to do something but not knowing what that something should be, until eventually he’d snatched up his car keys and driven to Nikki’s where he now sat outside, still not knowing what to do.

He was so confused. And tired. But mostly confused. By Aoife yes, dragging up the past, but also by Nikki. By the apparent ease with which she took his ex-lover turning up and declaring herself in love with him. It wasn’t that he wanted a cat fight between them but something, some emotion from her, some opinion on the matter even, some suggestion that it was difficult. Not this matter of fact-ness, as if they were discussing what to have for dinner. If Harry suddenly turned up declaring himself in love with Nikki he didn’t think he’d just be able to stand by and say it was a good thing, or even an interesting thing. He’d want to tell him to fuck right back off to New York; his fists clenched just at the thought. And yet, isn’t that what Nikki was doing with Aoife? Just standing by, standing back, as if it didn’t matter to her.

Aoife’s words, that Nikki didn’t need him, that she was out of his league, rang around his mind. It was what he’d always thought, what had prevented him ever saying anything to Nikki about how he felt for all those years. It was like Aoife had poked a wound and re-opened it and now he was bleeding out. Wasn’t Nikki acting like it was true? That she could take or leave their relationship?

He needed to speak to Nikki. He didn’t know what he was going to say but it had to be better than sitting here and breaking his own heart.

Nikki, 2022 (S26)

Nikki was pacing her kitchen, a half-drunk glass of wine on the counter and her phone in hand. She was yo-yo-ing between thinking she should call Jack and then thinking that he-should-jolly-well-be-calling-her-as-it-was-him-who’d-walked-out-not-her. She hated being out of kilter with him, and she knew that he was hurting too, that all this Aoife stuff had knocked him sideways, but she also couldn’t bring herself to hit that call button, half from anger and half from fear that they wouldn’t be able to sort it out.

She’d grasped back in her mind through the past week in her mind, trying to unravel what had gone wrong, trying to understand why he was so upset with her. She knew from her therapy that she had a habit of squashing down feelings that she thought were ‘bad’ as a protective mechanism, to make her seem less vulnerable, less easy to hurt. Maybe by squashing down her feelings of jealousy and trying to have the ‘right’ response to Aoife, rather than the genuine one, by saying all the right things, she’d actually made it look like she didn’t care? Was that possible? Oh god she wasn’t good at this, and her instinct was to run, away from Jack and this mess. She fingered her necklace, the lily, thinking of Jack, of the man who gave her so much, everything, and she knew she needed to be brave and not run, whatever her instincts were telling her.

She brought up Jack’s number and counted to three as she calmed her racing heart, then hit call. He answered immediately.

“Hey”

“Can we talk?”

“Open your door”

Without really thinking about it, she went to her front door and opened it. Jack was on the doorstep, phone to his ear in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other. She felt herself relax a bit for the first time since she’d got home. He was here. They could work this out.

“Can I come in?”

She stood aside and let him in and he gave her the flowers.

“I’m sorry Nikki.”

She watched him sit down on the sofa as she put the flowers into some water, and came and sat down opposite him. It felt weirdly formal, and she didn’t quite know where to look. Next to him on the coffee table was a photo of them, a selfie they’d taken last month lying on the grass together at Hampton Court Palace, both laughing, spring sunlight almost bleaching their faces against the dark grass. It was the first photo she’d put up of them and she looked at that, that was what they were, not this. This was a wrinkle they could resolve.

“I should’ve called earlier Nikki, I shouldn’t have walked out before.”

He paused for a moment and, just as she was thinking maybe she needed to say something, he carried on.

“Aoife said that you didn’t need me. That you were beautiful and confident and you didn’t need me.”

He dropped his head.

“And you believed her?”

“It’s what I used to think. It’s definitely how I felt after Mexico… and, I don’t know… it got in my head, and you’ve been so calm about all this Aoife stuff, it made me worry that she was right.”

Nikki got up and went over to him, kneeling in front of him, her hands on his knees. His head was still down, looking at the floor not at her.

“I need you Jack. I’ve always needed you. Before this. Almost from the moment I met you. Matt and I used to argue about it actually…”

That got his attention, and he lifted his eyes to her, narrowed slightly, one eyebrow raised.

“About me?”

“About how I depended on you. He was jealous I guess. Worried you’d use that to seduce me away from him.”

He snorted, and an almost-smile played across his lips.

“Well it did cross my mind…”

She smiled at him. Reassurance, that’s what he needed. It seemed obvious now. Reassurance and honestly, not just the right answers.

“I know I’m not good at telling you how I feel, and I’m sorry that’s made you worry. I do want what’s best for you and Cara - that’s the truth. But… I’ve also been jealous of Aoife since she walked into the Lyell - that’s also the truth.”

“Aoife, she… it’s complicated, she’s part of my past, I can’t pretend that’s not the case. And I need to stop running from my past.”

“You loved her. Love always leaves a mark, I understand that. She’s part of who you are.”

“She’s part of who I was”

“The past shapes us Jack, you tell me that all the time and it’s okay”

“Yes, but it doesn’t define us. Aoife doesn’t define who I am now.”

“Not if you don’t want her to.”

“I don’t. Nikki you know that yeah?”

He put his hands either side of her face and leaned his forehead onto hers, his nose gently brushing hers. Nikki moved her hands up from his knees to around his neck. She felt him tremble slightly.

“She’s my past, but Niks, you’re my everything, my end game. I get so scared sometimes about what would happen to me if I lost you”

Nikki kissed him, she couldn’t help it, feeling him return the kiss and magnify it, raking his hand through her hair. She felt desire catch behind her naval, and it took significant force of will to pull away.

“I’m not going anywhere Jack, I love you.”

He smiled at her, and bumped her nose gently with his.

“That’s all I need to know.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment and Nikki knew they’d be okay. They’d work out what to do about Aoife together, whatever was best for Cara, and they’d be okay. It’d be okay. She felt the tension of the past week melt away, leaving just desire in its place. She stood up, slowly, and straddled him.

“Why don’t you seduce me now, Jack Hodgson?”

Chapter Text

Nikki, 2022 (S26)

Nikki studied Jack’s face as he looked out to sea, this whole thing had been a nightmare for him and she knew he was glad it was over, one way or the other. She joined him in looking out across the beach and the sea. She’d always loved the sea; whilst she was, at heart, a city-dweller, the sea always seemed to hold cathartic properties, that enough sea air would chase even the most stubborn demons away. And ever since Mexico she’d associated the sea with freedom, wild exuberant freedom, and life. And that was true of the sea even here in Southbay, it was all part of the same ocean, the same freedom washed this shore as washed all others. She turned to face Jack again.

“Southbay’s kinda grown on me…”

“Uh oh!”

She chuckled. Jack was spoilt with the coastline where he was from in Northern Ireland, they’d spent some happy time exploring it together last year, albeit in sad circumstances. Southbay wasn’t rugged like that, but it had a beach and the sea, and fish and chip shops.

“Bank holiday coming up…”

“Mmm hmm”

“Fancy a long weekend back in Southbay?!”

Jack pulled her to him, and she allowed herself to fall against him as he kissed her head, laughing.

She was teasing him, for sure, but the idea of a long weekend at the beach just them, that wasn’t a tease. That would be amazing; sun, sea, good food, expensive wine, nice hotel, or maybe a cottage just them, in the sand dunes. Star gazing, fire pit, skin warm from the sun. Late nights and lazy mornings with Jack and no one to interrupt them. She lost herself for a moment in the joy it would be; that happened more and more these days, allowing herself to daydream the future with him, to plan out places they’d go together, things they’d do. For so long she’d not allowed herself to do that because it felt like tempting fate, setting herself up for disappointment. Even with Matt she’d always just lived in the moment, but with Jack she found herself planning their future together almost without thinking.

“Why not? Come on! There’s a beautiful beach!”

Jack stood up, holding his hand out for her.

“Come on…”

She took his hand, instinctively as ever, but not giving up on her daydream, or on teasing him.

“It’s so romantic!”

“You and I have different ideas of romance in that case!”

Nikki let him lead her onto the beach, a weak sun trying to break through the clouds, highlighting the puddles on the sand, left by the receding tide and the drizzle which had engulfed Southbay for the morning. She was pretty sure they didn’t actually have different ideas of romance at all. Nikki had learnt from her relationship with Matt that grand sweeping gestures were just that, gestures. And gestures were not enough in the end. Real romance was not the expensive showy stuff, but the day-to-day, the ordinary, life done together. Jack’s lily necklace would have much less meaning if it didn’t come from someone who held her when she cried for her child, who allowed her the space she needed, who understood instinctively why she found it hard to buy cards for christenings. That was romance, and that was why she couldn’t help but plan the future with him, around him, for them.

As if on cue, Jack picked her up and she laughed out loud, spinning through the wet sea air. She kicked her feet, allowing everything else to recede expect for her and Jack, here, together. Laughing together, loving each other.

“Don’t throw me in!”

Jack laughed again, putting her down on the sand and staggering a bit. She mock-ran from him, finding a dry-ish rock to perch on by the sea defences, as he recovered from his exertion.

The sun had properly broken through the clouds now and she shielded her eyes as she looked at Jack and tried to work out what he was doing. She fished around in her coat pocket for her sunglasses, brought in the hope that the August weather would cheer up, and put them on. Jack had found a stick and was drawing in the sand, like an overgrown boy, giddy, dorky and adorable.

J 🤍 N

Nikki smiled, feeling just as giddy as Jack looked and took out her phone to take a photo, wanting to remember this moment for years to come, years that she didn’t doubt would be spent with this man. As she took the photo, something occurred to her.

“Jack?”

“Mmmm” he replied, adding an arrow through the love heart with his stick crayon.

“When did you start working at the Lyell?”

He put the stick down and walked over to her.

“Erm, it was January, just after Christmas. 2013 I think, the London Olympics had definitely already happened. Why?”

“I’ve just realised that it’ll be ten years in January, since we met.”

Something soft spread across Jack’s face, and he almost looked abashed. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing them gently.

“Ten years? And you made me wait for, what, basically nine of those?!”

She tried to think back to 2013 when they first met, to how she’d felt about him then. There was definitely an instant attraction to him, she couldn’t deny that, and an immediate connection between them that grew into real friendship more quickly than she would ever have predicted. It was precisely their friendship which had prevented her from ever wanting to take things further, in the early years, because she hadn’t wanted to risk ruining that friendship, which she’d come to depend upon. And then there’d been Mexico. And Mexico changed everything for both of them, in completely different ways.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault…”

“I know. And I’d have waited another nine for this, if I had to, you have made me literally the happiest man in the world!”

Jack pulled Nikki to him and kissed her, slow and carefully, and nothing mattered other than being there with him.

Jack, 2022 (S26)

Jack scrunched up his chip paper, putting it down next to him and shuffling closer to Nikki. Somehow she’d convinced him to stay in Southbay for the evening, having first convinced Gabriel that they could finish their paperwork tomorrow, and then convinced him that they should eat chips. He’d told her it was all very English of her that she wanted to have chips on the seafront and she’d said she didn’t care that’s what she wanted and, well, that was enough to convince him. The pattern was already set, if she wanted it and he could give it to her then he would. He’d spent years wanting to spoil her and not being able to, so it wasn’t surprising really.

The mist and drizzle which had covered Southbay for the past few days had finally cleared leaving a fine, sunny evening. Nikki had her sunglasses on and the beach had slowly filled with people coming out and enjoying the late sun. It hadn’t convinced him to holiday in Southbay, but it had improved the vibe considerably, and the sun was just beginning to get low enough in the sky to cast long orange and pink shadows which expunged a multitude of sins.

Nikki had told him earlier that, in January, it would be ten years since they met, since they worked that case with the old guy who died in his hotel room from, if memory served, a latex allergy. Ten years since he’d first set eyes on Nikki, since his life’s course had been unalterably changed.

“Niks?”

“Yeah?” she replied wiping grease adorably from her mouth, and scrunching up her own chip paper.

“It’s weird to think that if I’d not taken the Briggs case in 2013 then we’d never have met. And I nearly didn’t. It was only because I needed the money.”

She turned to face him, smiling.

“Love would have found a way Jack!”

He laughed gently. Maybe it would’ve done. He wasn’t sure he believed in fate or destiny, but being here, being with Nikki after all this time, made him want to believe.

“And anyway, the forensic science community in London isn’t exactly large. We’d have met in some other way, some other case. And maybe your face wouldn’t have been so smashed up?!”

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten about that. Didn’t I try and claim I was in a car accident?”

“Yes. To a pathologist.”

“To a distractingly beautiful pathologist, in my defence”

She laughed at him and held out her hand.

“Shall we walk along the seafront, before it gets dark?”

Jack took her hand and they began a slow walk along the front, watching the late summer sun bounce off the sea, making it sparkle. Even in Southbay the sea still sparkled in the sun, there was a fable in there somewhere.

“Maybe if I’d not taken a job at the Lyell, and we’d met on some other case, maybe I’d have been able to take you on a date earlier than 2021?”

It was an intriguing thought. If he’d not ended up working at the Lyell, would he have been brave enough to ask her out? Would he have fallen this in love with her if they’d have dated straight away? If he hadn’t spent years waiting? If Mexico had never happened? Nikki’s voice brought him back to the Southbay seafront.

“I’m pretty sure we did go on one date before 2021…”

His mind raced. Did they? They had spent hours and hours together over the years, most of which he’d probably wanted to be dates but none of which he’d ever thought she’d thought of in that way.

“Not that game of pool before the River Neckinger sewer expedition?”

“No way, that was expressly clarified as not a date, by both of us I seem to recall!”

He laughed again. He remembered his acute embarrassment when he’d asked her what she was doing that evening and she’d had to check he wasn’t asking her out.

“Yes, well you definitely made it clear that wasn’t a date!!”

“So did you!”

She swatted him with her free hand and he grabbed it and pulled her into an embrace.

“Only because you made it clear that was incredibly offensive to you…”

She kissed him as if in apology for her former self, and he mentally fist bumped his thirty-something self, then lost himself completely for a moment in her kiss, as ever.

“Hang on a minute, when was this date then?”

“We went to an Italian restaurant, for pizza, after we’d found that girl locked in a warehouse, you had your arm in a sling…”

“You’d stopped that maniac from killing me…”

They both paused, remembering that night, that case, that meal. He’d offered to take her for pizza to thank her for saving his life, assuming she’d find a way of politely declining, but she hadn’t and they’d ended up at a rather nicer Italian restaurant than he’d envisioned, near Nikki’s place, both high on life and near death experiences. They’d drunk a lot of wine, he remembered that, and he’d remembered wanting to kiss her in the rain outside her place, wanting her to invite him in, but neither happening and him getting a taxi home alone.

They’d stopped walking again and Nikki was looking up at him softly, a faraway sort of look in her eyes.

“I think I was hoping you’d kiss me that night” she said, quietly, reflectively, and he felt his heart melt inside him.

“I remember feeling a bit disappointed that you hadn’t, but that it was probably for the best given we worked together. It definitely felt like a date though…”

Jack took a moment to process. If he’d have been brave and asked to kiss her, if he’d asked her out again on the back of that meal, maybe… maybe they’d be preparing to celebrate ten years together. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out if they’d started from that base and not this. It messed with his mind a bit. He wasn’t one for regrets really, but this felt a bit like something that was worth regretting.

“Sorry Nikki,” he said, needing to verbalise his sudden regret at not being brave enough all those years ago.

“What for?”

“For not being brave enough back then to kiss you.”

She put her hand on his cheek, and her thumb traced along his eyebrow.

“No regrets, Jack. We are here now, that’s all that matters.”

Nikki dropped her hand from his face, taking both of his in hers.

“And it probably wouldn’t have been sensible for us to sleep together back then, it would probably just have made us feel awkward and we’d never have become friends like we did.”

She placed one hand on his heart and he was sure she must be able to feel it hammering out of his chest.

“This, us, this is so beautiful because of how we got here, because of everything we’ve been through together, as friends.”

He wanted to believe that, he did believe that, but it wasn’t lifting him out of the mire in his mind. He still felt the thread of regret burning through him, reawakening his old insecurity that he wasn’t good enough, and he dropped his head not wanting her to see that in him.

“Jack!”

Nikki put both hands on his face, lifting it so he was looking at her and he tried to smile. He knew she was right, he knew that what mattered was now, but what if he could’ve, should’ve even, saved her from some of the shit that had happened to her, to them, over the last ten years.

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he said, more sullenly than he meant to.

“Cycling through the last ten years and all the ways it could’ve been different. I wouldn’t change any of it!”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No. Because it made me who I am. And it make you who you are. And it led us to now. Even the shitty stuff.”

“Even Mexico?”

“Even Mexico, Jack”

Jack held her gaze, watching as her hair blew in her face and she tucked it away behind her ear.

“We’re not the same people we were in 2013, and that’s okay. Every wrong turn, every stumble, every shitty case, brought us here and I don’t want to be anywhere else. So I don’t want to change anything.”

Nikki took his hand and spun him round, as she jumped onto the sea wall and down onto the beach. He looked at her in confusion.

“Wait there!”

Jack waited as told, watching as she ran, very un-Nikki-like, down the beach to a clear section and used her finger to start drawing in the sand, like he had done earlier. He sat down on the sea wall, his legs dangling, her playfulness infecting his veins, he could feel it warming him and lifting him. She was right, of course she was right; they weren’t the same people they were ten years ago, life had changed them, moulded them, and in doing so had brought them together now.

Nikki had written, in enormous sand letters, shooing dogs and children out of the way: I 🤍 YOU.

Jack’s heart thumped in response to her. He didn’t want anything to be different now, it was perfect now, and that meant he couldn’t want to change the past which had led them here. The past was the past. Nikki was the future. Jack and Nikki.

Jack stood up on the wall, as Nikki smiled up at him, her arms pointing at her creation. He felt the late summer sun on his face, and he bellowed into the evening air, to anyone who would hear:

“I love you Nikki Alexander!”