Unexpected
Author: Boji
Category: Spooks Ficlet. Aren't drabbles under
500 words?
Rating: PG-13 if that. Harry/Adam
Disclaimer: They belong to Auntie BBC, who would be horrified and
litigious no doubt. Let's hope they never find out. Not mine,
never will be. No infringement of any copyright is intended.
Summary: A post episodic moment from Harry Pearce's POV.
Spoilers: Everything up to "
UNEXPECTED
The tubes. The IV. These
things Harry had expected to see. Expected the smell of
disinfectant and the tangy scent of Betadine. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the deep breathing of
a body, lying recumbent on a plastic covered mattress. A body hovering
on the verge between life and death, or was that life and disability? Adam's body.
What he hadn't expected to find in the stillness of the hospital room, was a
second man lying sideways on the recliner chair, lying with his feet crossed at
the ankles, one sock pulled down slightly, pale skin visible in the gap between
sock and jean trouser leg. The man (and the slightly hairy leg would have been
more than enough of a clue as to gender for Harry, even without the build of
the sleeping torso) was using his black, woolen coat
as a blanket. He had it flung over his face, no doubt to keep out the dim
fluorescent lighting that cast shadows in the hospital room. One hand was
reaching out, past the edge of the coat, across the scant divide to Adam's
hospital bed. Strong pale fingers clinging determinedly to
Adam's wrist, as if willpower alone could cause Adam to live. Harry
stared at the hand not punctured by needles, the one that wasn't taped to tubes
that were hopefully going someway to keeping a body alive. Stared at where Adam
was being held, grounded to the world. That touch also explained why the
recliner had been pulled in close to the hospital bed.
Moving quietly, careful that his heavy shoes didn't squeak on the milky-white
linoleum floor, Harry stepped over to the recliner and flung the coat back off
the man's face. Startled, the man jerked up, reaching out instinctively to hit
his assailant, Harry. Hand turned sideways, held taut, ready to inflict pain
and damage, a trained, possibly lethal move. He was protecting the man lying
next to them both in the bed. This while less than
half-awake.
"Jesus Harry!" The shockingly familiar voice was a harsh whisper.
"What are you doing here?"
"Had to go back to Thames House for a bit. He wasn't out of surgery
then." Being surprised, being in the dark, these were states Harry Pearce
disliked intensely. All situations were to be assessed with the fullest
knowledge at his disposal. Yet he hadn't known Fiona's first husband had faked
his own death and worse, he hadn't known that Tom Quinn had some association
with Adam. Let alone enough of an association to warrant an all night
vigil, or was it surveillance? "What are you doing here?"
Sitting up fully, Tom slid his legs off the recliner and rubbed sleep out of
his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looked up at Harry with eyes that were
probably as raw from tears, as they were from sleep deprivation.
"When Fiona's death was legalized, I was automatically made next of
kin."
"What?" Tom glared at him as Harry raised his voice. "Why?"
"You want to get what passes for shit coffee in this place?" Tom
asked, standing up slowly.
"Tom what the...?" Harry watched as the other man reached out gently,
fingers trembling, to touch the hair now shorn at Adam's temples.
"You have got to be bloody kidding me!" Harry leashed the volume in
his disbelieving tone and wondered if what he was feeling was rage or plain old
fashioned incredulity.
"Really? Why? Don't tell me my psych reports were
so incomplete."
"You... He. Good God man, his wife's been dead
less than a month!"
"I know. We both miss Fee Harry. Don't think this started now, it
didn't."
"Your propensity to... such matters..."
"The term is bisexual Harry. It's not even legally dubious anymore."
Tom said quietly, walking towards the door. His coat was left strewn on the
recliner.
"Your... tastes were always on file. Adam on the other hand..."
"Hid in plain sight. Wasn't
close-minded enough to think that a couple could only be comprised of two
people. He saved my life Harry. And fuck it, there's nothing I can do to
help him." The fight went out of Tom. Slumped against the door frame, with
his head buried in his hands, Tom reminded Harry of Adam, grieving and raw,
less than a fortnight ago. He stepped closer to Tom, failing to swallow his own
awkwardness and offer a brief hug, he patted the other
man on the shoulder.
"There's an all night cafe round the corner. Coffee's good and the food's not bad. Have you had dinner? Or..."
"It's in the loo," Tom said ruefully.
"Right, tea it is then."
Still uncomfortable Harry turned and made his way out into the corridor.
Pretended that he couldn't see Adam's bed reflected in the glass opposite the
doorway, but watched nonetheless as Tom crossed back over to the bed and leant
down, dark head nearly resting against sandy blond head. A gentle kiss, a brief
touch and then a young man who had been one of his better agents fell into step
beside him once again. They walked down the corridor in silence.
The End.