a day in the life

[asthenoseonyourface]

Come to Shamrock at once, if convenient. -JR

If inconvenient, come anyway. -JR

Could be dangerous. -JR

I have coffee? -JR

The string of texts were becoming a common occurrence. Over the last week and a half, the texts would start, timed exactly forty five seconds apart. If he was bored, he'd end by offering her coffee, if he missed her, he'd simply say please...and if he wanted to take her to bed, he'd simply stop at could be dangerous.

When his texts didn't lead her to either his place or hers, John usually had Randy where he needed her most: in his arms, back tucked securely against his chest, now and again in his lap, or seated in a desk chair with his hands idly smoothing over her shoulders or hair or neck. Sometimes it was a case he was working, and sometimes he even needed her input. Whether it was the human deduction or a medical question, or simply his preference for an audience, it was becoming increasingly easy for Jock and Jane to let the leash slip a little on their brother, because at the end of the day he would rather have Randy keeping an eye on him anyway.

Jock was the first to start calling them 'Holmes and Watson.' John didn't correct him.

Today, the fourth telltale text was a little different from the norm.

Dangerous...and coffee. -JR

When she got to the gate, John was there to meet her with his usual dark scowl of boredom, and a cup of coffee.

Which he handed over, just as soon as he was finished pressing her back against the closed gate, kissing her like he wanted to consume her one breath at a time.

"The sexual nature of this relationship is getting increasingly distracting." he informed her with a huff as the kiss finally broke, giving her the cup of coffee, then stealing another, less frantic kiss. "If it wasn't socially unacceptable for the time frame, I'd make you move in with me for the convenience factor."

"Awwwww, should we be expecting a happy announcement?"

John looked up from Randy to see Jane and Jock walking towards them, coffees of their own in hand.

"That bloke better not be coming around here!" John called out in warning.

Jane narrowed her eyes at him as they drew near. "He's picking me up for lunch later, and if you're mean to him I'll gouge out your eyes."

"Can I have 'em when you're done?" Jock teased. "I want to dangle them from my car mirror."

John glared at them both, finally moving to open the gate and lead the way upstairs to the office.

"I want to call Robertson, they're working a break in at the Met!" John called over his shoulder. "There's a missing Amadeus violin, and it's going to be a dull case, but if I can solve it quickly I can nick it for a little while. I've always wanted to play a real life Amadeus--"

John stopped dead in his tracks when he opened the door to the locked office and found a client seated in one chair.

She was a striking brunette, all pale angles and sleek black hair piled carefully atop her head. She had her legs crossed and was reading a magazine, leg bobbing lightly to make the beadwork stitched into her black skirt catch the light. She looked up as the entered and smiled, eyes as cold and empty as his own.

"Door was locked." she explained in a clipped British accent, offering an innocuous smile. "Hope you don't mind me making myself at home."

John sniffed, narrowing his eyes with a scowl...and stilled, going suddenly white as a sheet.

"Randy?..." John asked uncertainly, his voice breaking with something very close to fear.

The woman smiled, laying her magazine aside. "I pay my house staff well, Mr. Riley...they even pick my clothes." She paused, cocking her head to the side as her smile grew.

"It's not easy to deduce someone when other people do them up...is it, Johnnycake?"

Comments

[coatandscarf]

It was flattering to hear him greet her with such a comment. Their relationship had gone increasingly well, much to Randy's surprise. Sure, she felt like she was babysitting him 8 times out of 10, but she didn't mind it much. In fact, she rather enjoyed his cases. When he wasn't on a case though, he was near impossible to deal with. She was almost scared to think of how he'd be when there really was an extended lull. He'd formed a pattern though, and she always knew when things would be 'dangerous', and when things would be 'coffee', depending on how long it had been since his last case. Or his last "hit" of her, for lack of a better term. Randy could swear the man considered her a drug.

Randy smirked softly into the coffee as the other two siblings showed up, amused by their conversation. She'd gotten used to their banter by now, and it never failed to entertain.

When they made their way into the offices, John stopped in his tracks, causing Randy to frown. Moving in to stand just beside him, her eyes looked over the other woman. Randy heard his fear, but her eyes didn't leave the brunette's. No wonder he didn't read her: she oozed emotion, despite having eyes as emotionless as he. She reeked of it, and the primary reason Randy knew about the woman's emotion was because it was aimed at John Riley.

She wanted him.

She hated him.

Her 'house staff' implied a level of control she was used to having. It probably spread out into other venues, as well. She wasn't a prostitute. She also wasn't a high end call girl. No, this was a woman used to being in charge.

"It's not that convincing a disguise I'm afraid. Your emotions are still on your sleeve. Not to mention your presence here, behind locked doors, is a stunt to get our attention. If you had waited until we arrived, you would risk being just another person. Can't risk that, can we? Because Heaven knows you wait for no man, considering your line of work." Randy took a sip of the coffee before continuing. "Guess what, you're going to have to wait. For a long, long time, because he's off the market, and he's not going back on it anytime soon." This woman was trying to throw John off his game. She'd succeeded in doing so. It was Randy's turn to protect John, and to put this woman's ego in its place.

[asthenoseonyourface]

"It's not a disguise...she's wiped herself clean." Jock realized from John's other side, regarding the woman standing before them with a smug smile. "Someone else did her make up, chose her clothes...hell, probably waxed her legs. She's..."

"Unreadable." John got out, voice strangled and shaky as he stepped away from Randy and towards the woman. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm just like you, dear." the woman drawled, reaching up to straighten John's collar with a lingering, possessive touch. "And psychopath or not, I do get bored...and lonely."

"I'm a sociopath."

"Just barely. Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to cross the line?" The woman leaned up, cherry red lips curving into a grin as she pressed her body against his. "You're well aware there's a lot of fun to be had in being naughty. You do it all the time."

"My brother and sister would get bored if I didn't." John replied, his voice infinitesimally closer to normal. "Keeps them from a fate worse than death."

"Yes...turning into you. Leaving you alone." She leaned up further, whispering into his ear.

"I could keep you company, dear."

The words chilled John to the core, because he could feel something deeper in them. She could...she was clever, beautiful, cold...perfect match, really. She wanted it, too, wanted it enough to kill for it...

He blinked, his mind working again, then shook his head.

"Janie? Adler? Is this what it feels like to be you?" he murmured, watching the woman with new interest. "Interesting..."

Jane watched John and the woman, bright eyes flicking over them both before they suddenly went wide with panic.

"Randy, grab him." she instructed quietly, urgently. "My brother's about to kill that woman."

[coatandscarf]

Randy had no idea what came over her, but it was probably not what Jane had in mind.

Sadly, the coffee John had given Randy was no longer scalding. It wasn't even hot anymore, really. Which was a shame, because it was no longer in Randy's cup and instead creating a lovely pattern on the back of the woman's blouse and sinking into her skirt.

"Get the fuck away from him, or you'll have worse than coffee stains to take off your precious clothing," Randy scowled, glaring outright. She would not be disregarded or ignored by this woman, and she certainly wouldn't allow her to get that close to John ever again.

[asthenoseonyourface]

For a second, the woman stood, aghast and dripping...then turned slowly to face Randy with cold, dead eyes.

After a long, silent moment, she smiled.

"Oh, you are delicious, aren't you?" she purred, taking a couple of steps towards Randy. "I can see why he likes you, that little spark is just too entertaining. I wonder, Mr. Riley, will you break her or give your new pet her head--"

A hand was on the woman's shoulder in an instant, spinning her back around so another hand could wrap long, pale, delicate fingers securely around her throat...and as John began to squeeze, to choke her, his eyes were as cold and as dead as Randy had ever seen them.

"You see it?" He asked in Randy and Jane's general direction, his eyes never leaving the woman's face as she gagged and started clawing at his arms for breath. "Janie, Randy...you see it, don't you? How badly she wants to kill you all? I know you see it, you have to see it..."

[coatandscarf]

Randy felt numb as the realization struck her that she didn't care if the woman died or not. She had tempted John, implying he'd be alone if it weren't for his siblings. She knew all too well what the woman was implying: that Randy was unimportant. Psychologically, Randy knew that is what had sparked her rage, knowing that even for the briefest of moments, the 'competition' had gotten the upper hand. John had snapped out of it, apparently, but Randy couldn't help but feel wounded that the temptation had been there at all. Was she really just a toy to him? A puppet in his lonely world?

Randy also knew that it was the reason she was numb to him killing the coffee-drenched woman. With her dead, she would be competition no more. The thought sickened her. She was a doctor, for God's sake! It was an internal conflict that raged within her in Iraq constantly, knowing that death was around every corner and she was sometimes part of the cause of it.

But here, standing in the Shamrock offices, she felt cold realizing that she didn't care if the woman died then and there. In fact, that she almost preferred it. The realization would have been enough to get her moving when another incentive appeared.

There was a red dot on John's forehead.

Randy's eyes widened and she flew to his side, standing between him and the woman, her hand gripping the pressure point of his wrist tightly, hoping to loosen his grip. Her voice was steady, unpanicked, but there was no room for argument in her tone. "John, let her go. John, please. She anticipated this, let her go, please."

Randy heard Jane gasp then, and she knew what happened without even having to look, keeping a steady hold on his arm as the reality of the situation sunk in.

She had a red dot, too.

[coatandscarf]

John spared Randy the briefest of glances, but it was enough. The sight of that little red spot, the laser sight that could take her away from him in a heartbeat was enough to stay his hand, to slacken his grip with his eyes riveted to that beam of light and energy that could take her away from him.

“Caring, Mr. Riley,” the woman drawled, reaching up to run a hand over John’s cheek possessively, “is not an advantage. Not for people like us.”

John was silent for a long moment, then met the woman’s eyes. There was a terrible sort of recognition in those crystal blue depths as he did.

“Not for monsters.” he replied slowly.

Seemingly pleased with his rationale, the woman smiled with a tilt of her head.

“Melinda Sharpe.” she finally introduced.

John slowly laid a hand on her shoulder, gentle, even affectionate.

“Melinda Sharpe...mmm.” he murmured, meeting her gaze. “There’s a problem with monsters who try to outrun the angels. Angels have wings, and therefore speed...angels always win.”

“You, sir, are no angel.”

John smiled at that, and it was both hateful and sad.

“No, I’m not. I sit on the side of the angels, beg for scraps at their table...but I’m not one of them.” he murmured. Slowly, he lifted his hand from her throat and pointed at Randy.

“But she is.”

Shoving Melinda down roughly, satisfied to watch her land in a clumsy sprawl, his eyes narrowed darkly as he moved closer to Randy, placing himself within the line of both sniper sights.

“Say what you will about however...compatible we might be,” he continued, “She got here first. So now all that’s left is the obvious outcome...I’m sure you understand.”

As Melinda got to her feet, trying to reclaim some measure of her dignity, John glanced behind him at his siblings and raised his voice.

“Live snipers, tart with the buildings on either side! You might still catch her crew!”

Jock smiled, raising one hand that had been discreetly tucked behind his back...displaying that he had his iPhone in hand and on speaker, the name ROBERTSON clear on the screen before bringing it to his ear.

“Got that, Rob?”

Jane did the same, showing Paul Baker’s number on her own screen before she drew the phone in.

“Did you hear all that, lover?”

----------

Jesus Fucking Christ, how the hell had he gotten caught up in this? All Paul knew was that he’d gotten a call from Jane, but no response. Yet he could overhear a conversation going on and as if understanding instantly, lapsed into silence, listening in on the exchange. Someone was talking about crossing lines. A British woman. Londoner, from the sound of it.

Immediately, he turned the car around, heading towards Shamrock rather than the office. Putting the phone on speaker, followed by mute, he grabbed a recorder and started recording the conversation, putting the two side by side on the passenger seat. He’d just parked the car when he heard John mention the word snipers. Shit, no wonder the woman was alive still. Dear God, if that was why Jane gasped, he was going to kill someone. They better not harm a hair on her head.

His trained eyes looked around, trying to see the best line of sight. The front of the building had closed shades. That wasn’t it. However, behind the building...

It wasn’t difficult to quickly make his way around the building, then climb the steps as quietly as he could. The building wasn’t a tall one, but for a second story view, that was all you really needed. Paul just arrived onto the rooftop when John shouted through the phone just as Paul unmuted it.

The snipers whipped their head around.

Paul cursed.

He barreled towards one of the men, the other maintaining the shot but moving away. “Military!” Paul shouted, connecting with the man, sending the rifle sideways toward the other. “Shaggy and black-haired Fred!” Paul grunted as the man elbowed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him temporarily, knocking him aside. ‘Fred’ moved to take advantage, but Paul was far too well trained for that and he kicked the man in the knee when he tried to approach, knocking him down as well.

Paul had no idea how long they were at each other’s throats, dodging and exchanging punches, but he wasn’t expecting the man to duck out of nowhere. Paul realized his mistake too late.

A grunt, followed by a loud thud, was all that was heard from the other side of the phone.

[coatandscarf]

“Paul?...Paul?” Jane called into the phone, her voice rising with a sliver of panic.

John whipped around at the sound of it, eyes narrowing. Someone scared Janie. Paul scared Janie...he was going to kill Paul. No, not Paul...fear for Paul. He was going to kill whoever hurt Paul.

“I think that’s my cue to exit, don’t you?” Melinda drawled. Striding over to pick up her purse, she deftly pulled out a compact .22 caliber pistol and leveled it at the group of them. “Guns are so tacky, but you’ve left me no choice.”

“Catch you later, babe.” Jock drawled, and for an instant, despite his sun-streaked hair, John and Jock were truly identical as they carefully watched Melinda Sharpe beat a hasty retreat from the office.

The second she was gone, Jane was hanging up her phone and bolting towards her desk. Each of them had a weapon and a license to carry, but Jane never kept her gun on her. Removing the Ruger .22 from her locked bottom desk drawer, she tucked it into the back of her jeans and was out like a shot. Jock spared John a glance, then turned to follow her so he could field the cops while Jane went looking for Paul.

Finally alone with Randy, John’s attention was all for her, cold dead eyes staring off into the middle distance as he dragged her into his arms, holding her painfully tight as he hid his face against her hair.

The arms wrapped around her were shaking.

----------

Randy could barely move, his grip was so tight on her, but at that exact moment, she didn’t care. The constriction that would normally send her into a full blown panic was the least of her concern right then. The blasted woman was gone, and all that mattered was that John Riley seemed like he was going to pieces for the first time in his life.

John was... scared? Angry? Hell, possibly both. There was no denying he was feeling something just then, his self-proclaimed sociopathy be damned. The desire to shake herself was considerable, but she kept calm, using all her training to be as still as she possibly could right then and there. Not even her fingers were shaking, despite the pressing of his arm around her nerves.

Instead, her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him as tightly to her as she could. “Talk to me. Don’t bury it. Talk.” She needed to hear him speak, and more importantly, knew that he needed to speak.

[coatandscarf]

John just shook his head, holding her impossibly tighter, pressing his face harder against her hair, as though he could crawl inside her skin and merge with her. He needed that, needed to have her that close forever, so he could feel things the way she did...so he could have that goodness, that humanity, so he could see like she did and never be in that terrifying place again...the place where he didn’t know anything.

“I’m going to...kill.” he got out with some difficulty, never lifting his face from her hair. “I’m going to...kill so many people...and then you’ll go away. Because I’m killing people.”

-----------

Randy’s eyes shut then, fighting a war within her body to keep calm. Her knee was threatening to buckle under their weight, her arm was shifting to push him away from her, her body was practically revolting against her.

He was going to kill.

“...Yes... Yes I will.” She couldn’t lie to him, she couldn’t deny that hearing those words struck fear into the deepest recesses of her heart. “John...” She turned her head, burying her face against his curls. “But not because of what you think. I would run away from me.” She found herself struggling then, wondering if she could even voice this aloud. “I wanted her dead, too. God, I wanted her dead for even looking at you the way she did. I wanted her dead for even thinking of you in such a way.” She shivered then, something increasingly obvious in his tight grip. “And then I saw the laser sight and my heart fell. I couldn’t lose you to her, and killing her would’ve meant that in more ways than one.” Her hand tightly gripped the back of his shirt, holding her to him.

“I’ll never leave you. Because if I do, then you’ll go to her. And I’ll never let that happen.”

~~~~~~~~~~

John drew back to look at her, confusion etched across his features. Slowly, though, it shifted to something like understanding, then to true understanding. It was shocking, startling the way her ability to read him had been, a revelation he hadn’t expected.

Maybe she was like him in more ways than he thought.

He shifted to gather her face between his hands, unsure it was the right thing to do, and yet unwilling to give in to the known, the familiar nagging feeling that any day, the world would see him for what he was and put him down like a dog.

“We could...kill her together.” he offered slowly, honestly, with the generosity of a child sharing his favorite toy. “I’d let you help me.”

----------

Finally, her control couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer.

She crumpled.

Tears left her eyes, and she dropped her head, burying it against his chest. Her arms flew around him tightly, literally clinging to him to keep upright, her knee having given out after she had found so hard to keep it from doing so. Her body betrayed her, a physical reaction to the emotional damage taking place within her. Because she knew something then.

She would help him.

And she hated herself for it. She fucking hated herself for it, and yet here she was, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline, like he was the only thing keeping her alive just then. Because that was just it, wasn’t it? She’d felt dead since she’d left Iraq, a woman with no emotions, no hopes, no dreams. Just... existence. He had given her life back. And she knew she was desperate to keep it. He’d told her when they first met that she was a social creature. That she craved it. He was right. She’d forgotten how much she craved it. He was to thank for that, and she knew she’d do anything to keep living again.

Even help him.

[coatandscarf]

...clearly that was the wrong answer.

Unsure of what else to do, John just held her tight, stroking her hair and pressing his cheek to the top of her head. It was all he had left, all he could offer...no, he’d kill Melinda Sharpe himself. He’d do it quietly, discreetly, and he wouldn’t upset Randy with it.

“It’s okay.” he finally whispered, still petting her hair as he held her. “Don’t cry, it’s okay...you don’t have to help me. It’s why I’m here...it’s why I’m here.”

The world needed monsters so that angels didn’t have to fall from grace when the dark things came out to play.

----------

“No. I’d do it. God help me, but I’d do it.” Her fingers tightened around his shirt, twisting at it. “The way she looked at you... she wants you. And if she can’t have you, she’d rather you be dead.” Randy shook her head against his chest. “No. I won’t let that happen. I can’t lose you.”

The phone rang then, the sound harsh within the tension of the room. Neither moved to get it. She straightened, her eyes meeting his. They needed this moment so very desperately, to understand what was going on within themselves, let alone each other.

It wasn’t to be though. From downstairs, there came a shout. “John! Randy! Jane’s upset ‘cause Paul got hurt! We need you!”

Randy’s eyes widened, and her composure snapped into place as the trained military physician surged within her. She started to move toward the door and nearly tripped over her own leg, just managing to catch herself against the table. Her head hung low then, drawing in a shaky breath.

It was back. That blasted limp was back.

“I’m going to need help,” she said softly. She hadn’t used her cane since he took it from her. She didn’t even know where it was anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, you’re not.” John replied flatly, composing himself so he could help her. Moving to her side, he offered her his hand. “Take my hand and walk downstairs. You have to do this...my sister needs you.”

And the look in his eyes said it all: John was going to help his sister. And Randy. Even if it killed him.

----------

Randy gritted her teeth, hating herself just then. “I know that, dammit.” She reached out then, taking not his hand, but his arm instead. As she straightened, it was evident that it wasn’t something she could control. The limp was definitely back. “Get me downstairs. I have a cane for patients in my offices.”

He didn’t move. Looking up at him, she knew that he wasn’t going to, either. Cursing under her breath, she released her hold on him. Randy moved along the desk gingerly, making her way to the door, being sure to stick to the walls in case she needed something to fall against. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the railing of the stairs, taking them one at a time, practically walking sideways with her back to the wall.

All the while, she couldn’t stop berating herself. One event, and you break down like this? What kind of soldier are you? What kind of doctor? Physician, heal thyself! If only it was so simple. Whatever magic had healed her before, it certainly wasn’t there anymore.

She ignored the looks she got as she limped her way towards her office, reaching into her pocket to grab the key and unlock the door. She had a priority right now, and it wasn’t her. “Get him on the bed. And someone get the cane in the closet, please!” She needed to move about and not worry about falling. She needed to help Paul, now. She’d deal with her leg later.

[coatandscarf]

Jane was under Paul’s arm, helping him into the office alongside Jock. John had trailed downstairs only after Randy had gone, refusing to get close and watching her with narrowed eyes.

Jane didn’t know precisely what was going on, but as she helped ease Paul onto the bed, she shot John a look.

“Do what she said.”

“No.”

“Don’t be an ass!”

“I am an ass.”

Rolling her eyes, Jane headed for the closet to get the cane.

“I won’t talk to you ever again if you get that cane!”

Jane ignored him.

John glared, turned, and left the office, heading back upstairs.

As Jane brought the cane to Randy, Jock sighed and shot her an apologetic look.

“Don’t pay any attention to him.” Jock murmured as Jane leaned over Paul, running her fingers gently over his forehead. “You’ve seen Johnny on his best behavior until this point...this is him at his worst, so...don’t even worry about it.”

----------

“Murderous?” Randy shook her head, taking the cane from Jane gratefully. “Look, for the moment, John Riley is not my priority. I’m not worried.” Keep trying to convince yourself, Randy. “In the meantime, I need help.” She rattled off a list of things she’d need from the closet before hobbling over to the doorway to grab her medical coat, slipping it on with practiced ease. She grabbed her small light and crossed over to Paul. It was easy to see why he was knocked unconscious, he had a rather nasty gash on his forehead. She opened his eyelid, looking at it for a moment before shining a light into it to gauge his responsiveness.

She ran through a battery of similar tests before nodding, stepping away in satisfaction. “He’ll be fine. Minor concussion, if that. He’ll be awake soon.” She got about cleaning the wound, thinking she’d appreciate it if such a thing was done when she was unconscious. The stinging brought a hiss from him, and Randy watched as he began to stir.

“Hey, Sonic. Welcome back. Or should I call you Rambo?”

Paul’s eyes blinked at her for a few moments before looking at her directly, as if thinking about what he remembered. “Where’d they go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“More like selfish, petulant...and a little murderous, yeah.” Jock sighed. “He’s a sociopath, Randy. He doesn’t have our moral compass, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He’s selfish, he’s petty, and he’s cruel...and when he decides that he wants you, he’s the last friend you will ever need...and he’ll never leave your side, no matter what he has to do.”

“They got loose.” Jane sighed, leaning over to kiss Paul’s forehead. “You’re okay, that’s all that matters...Christ, you scared me.” She glanced up at Randy hopefully.

“Could I help with that?” she asked, nodding to the gauze she was using to help clean Paul’s wound. “I know first aid, I’ve done it for Jock before.”

“When?!” Jock snorted.

“Academy training, you arse.”

“You’re doing it wrong!!!”

Jock and Jane turned at the distant shout of John’s voice from somewhere outside the offices, muffled and tinny through walls and windows.

Jock turned back to Randy with a rueful grin. “See what I mean?”

----------

“Not my concern, at the moment,” Randy snapped, although part of her was glad John didn’t storm off too far. She looked over at Jane and sighed. “You can hand me things. Jock, bring it over here and place it on the bed so she doesn’t have to get up, will you please?”

Randy turned her full attention on Paul, preparing to run through a battery of tests. Knowing all too well what was coming, Paul groaned. “Oh for God’s sake, Doctor, I don’t need coddling. I’m fine. It’s Monday. I wish it were Wednesday, because I’m offduty on Wednesday and I was intending on taking this lovely lady to dinner and to see that new chick flick in the theaters, if she’d let me. The current prime minister is David Cameron, such as it is. What other questions do you want from me?”

Randy smirked, holding up her middle finger at him. “How many fingers?”

Paul looked at her and let out a laugh. “One, and you can put that bloody thing away, thank you. Now does someone want to tell me what the bloody hell happened that you had snipers trained on you? Where the hell is John, I know I heard him.” Randy motioned for Jane to pass her the gauze after cleaning the wound once more, letting them explain as she worked. Thankfully, he wouldn’t even need stitches.

[coatandscarf]

“I don’t do chick flicks...but you can definitely take me to see that new spy movie that just came out.” Jane chuckled, running her fingers through his hair fondly before passing Randy the gauze. “To be honest? We don’t know what happened--”

“Homicidal psychopath that wants to date me!”

Jane sighed, shutting her eyes peevishly at John’s muffled voice. “Thank you for sharing, Johnny, now go sulk somewhere else!”

“She wants to kill Randy and Jane. And Jock. And Randy!”

“Go away, John!”

There was a long pause.

“A conceited homicidal sociopath!”

“I’m not going out there to babysit him, FYI.” Jock deadpanned, shaking his head emphatically.

----------

Randy sighed softly, placing the gauze over Paul’s cut. “Generally speaking, he is right though. We walked into the office, locked office, mind you, to find this woman waiting for us there. Well, waiting for John really. The rest of us were incidentals.”

Paul frowned a bit, glancing over at Randy, then at Jane. “Why do I get the feeling she’s taking that personally?”

Randy sighed, continuing to work. “I threw my coffee at her.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. She was a fucking lion preying on John and utterly ignoring me. I was having none of it. So I threw my coffee at her. Sadly, it wasn’t hot. Might’ve disabled her enough to slow her down if it were. Hotter coffee next time, Holmes!” Randy shouted out the door, acknowledging John directly for the first time. Assuming he’d ever want to share coffee with her again.

Paul shook his head a bit in disbelief, earning him a glare from Randy. Immediately he stilled once again. “Thank you. Anyway, she started to turn her attention on me when John grabbed her. At that point, the laser sights appeared. One showed up on John’s forehead, the other well, appeared on me.”

Paul frowned a bit, earning him another glare due to the lines that appeared on his forehead just as she was applying the bandage. “Sorry. Ah, and what exactly does this woman want?”

Randy was silent then, pressing her fingers gently against the bandage to leave it in place. “John. She wants John.” Her voice was barely above a whisper just then, and she lowered her hand to grip the cane tightly in support. God dammit, the woman wanted John. Why did she want John? Well, that was rather obvious, really. She wanted him to join her. But surely she wouldn’t expect him to follow, did she? John didn’t follow, he led. Didn’t the bitch realize she’d never get what she wanted from him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should’ve seen her. She did us proud.” Jane grinned down at Paul. “Just...total queen bitch, mouthing off. Mum would’ve said she had a moment with the Blarney Stone.”

“Amen.” Jock agreed with a nod, saluting Randy with an imaginary drink. “And Johnny would agree if he’d stop being such a royal arse about everything.” He paused to call out over his shoulder. “You could come in here and defend yourself, you know!”

There was silence.

Jock frowned. “Johnnycake?”

No answer.

“Hey, Sherlock!” Jane called out, equally concerned. The siblings shared a look, even as Jane slid her hand into Paul’s, threading their fingers together.

“He could be going after her...or giving Robertson’s boys a load of shit.” Jane warned.

“So? Go after him!” Jock protested.

“Dude, I am done babysitting your twin brother, I’m kind of busy here!” Jane protested, giving Paul’s fingers a squeeze.

Just then the door to the exam room nudged open. A long, familiar gangly arm stuck through, a coffee cup in hand. The name RANDY was written on the sleeve, and steam was seeping visibly through the hole in the lid.

----------

Paul smirked at the sight. “Your wish is his command?”

Looking over her shoulder then, Randy felt a bit of herself crumple then, the wave of sadness returning now that she knew Paul was as good as could be expected. She felt herself moving toward the door before she even was aware of it, bringing a hand up to stroke the back of John’s lightly with her fingertips before taking the coffee from his grip. “Thank you, Holmes,” she whispered. God, how she ached to collapse, just completely and utterly collapse. Fold up into a ball and never stop crying. She glanced over at Paul and gave him her best attempt at a brave smile. “If you’ll excuse me. I’m sure you want some alone time, now that your doctor is done with you.” She didn’t give him the option, really, because she was out the door in an instant, hobbling away from the main entrance and towards the other patient room. She knew he was following, at a distance. After all, it wouldn’t do to let her think she’d be forgiven, would it?

Entering the patient room, she put the coffee down on the table before climbing onto the bed with a wince, leaning forward to rub her knee. She looked up at him, standing in the doorway, half peering at her and half hiding. In a swift moment, she picked up the cane and tossed it lightly in his direction. “Make me forget it. Talk to me.” She paused then, her uncertainly visible in her face. “Please?”

[coatandscarf]

Deftly catching it, John left the cane outside the door and entered the room obligingly, shutting the door behind him. He was more than happy to help...as long as she understood what she had to do.

“I charged the coffee to your credit card.” he informed her blithely as he walked over and stood by the patient bed. Laying his hand on her knee, he gave it a firm squeeze. It might hurt, but it was all in her head anyway, so it didn’t matter. He wanted to squeeze the pain away. He wanted to break Melinda Sharpe’s kneecap in the same place it hurt Randy.

“I...may have done it while the waitress had her back turned.” he added with a shrug. “It was easy. Boring. But it was still funny.”

----------

“You make a gorgeous Eirena Hughes. And that’s okay, although I wish you wouldn’t take my things.” She sighed then, lowering her gaze.

“You wanted her, didn’t you? And don’t lie to me, I saw it. You were tempted by her, by whatever she said. By what she represents.” The thought disturbed her, despite the knowledge that he didn’t emotionally connect with people. Knowing and seeing it were two very different things. “I need to know, John. Please be honest with me.” She patted the empty spot on the bed next to her lightly, encouraging him to sit next to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I didn’t swipe it, I used the number. Saw you use it the last time you made me eat lunch.” John groused, shifting to hop up on the bed beside her. When she asked the question, he grew very still and very quiet...for a long time.

“I wasn’t tempted, I was...afraid.” he admitted, staring down at his hands, then with visible impatience took Randy’s hand and securely clasped it between his. “There’s nothing good in me, I chose this life. Chose a long time ago when I realized Jock and Janie were good.”

He paused, still staring at his hands. “If I never met you, I’d want her. I’d be curious about her, I’d be interested. But I told the truth: you beat her to me. So I’m not interested, I can’t be. Not when I know...you.” He finally looked up at her, and the truth was etched painfully bright across calm, placid features.

“You got there first. And I like what you make me...feel. So I don’t want her. I never could. I know how feelings are, at least I’ve heard how they are. They’re not the same with different people...I don’t want different. I want you.”

----------

Randy found herself sighing heavily, reassured by his words. She was fairly certain he wouldn’t lie to her; not now anyway. Not when he was so adamant about getting her limp to go away again. Her fingers entwined through his absently, her eyes not leaving their joined hands as she continued to listen without interruption.

“I want you, too. I have from the beginning, really. But I didn’t realize until today just how much I wanted you... and how easy it would be to lose you.” She looked up then, reaching up with her free hand to brush a stray curl back out of his forehead, recalling all too easily the red dot that had just decorated it. “Both to her, and to a bullet. And I knew then that I would do anything to keep you.” She scoffed a bit, leaning sideways against him. “It’s terrifying, knowing that. I always thought it’d be emboldening. It isn’t. It’s like taking your heart and opening it in half, knowing you can have everything ripped away from you so easily.” She shook her head softly, lowering her hand to rest on her leg lightly. “I almost envy you, your lack of emotion to others. Life would be so much easier if we just didn’t feel...”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, I feel.” John reminded her, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “I feel a lot, and I feel too much, and I have to let it go to function.” He blinked, cocking his head thoughtfully. “I think feelings are a lot like a kite. They fly around, they’re beautiful...but they’re useless without a string to tie them to the ground. They don’t stay put, they’re not...bound to the rest of the world. That’s me. I’m a kite with no string.”

He paused, sobering. “I’m not a beautiful kite, though. I’m ugly, I’m a monster, and so is she...and she knows how to cripple me. She’s right: caring isn’t an advantage.”

He hesitated again, shrugging. “Naturally, I’m not gonna stop...but it doesn’t make it any less true.”
----------

Randy reached up, cradling his cheek in her palm. “You don’t feel too much, you just don’t know what to do with them. Your... lack of string, to use your analogy.” She sighed softly, trying to think of how to phrase what she’s thinking. “Are you saying that we’re not an advantage? Jane, Jock... me? We care about you. We’d do anything for you. Is that not an advantage?” She awkwardly drew him in for a hug, pressing her forehead against his cheek as her arm curled across his chest and rested her hand on his neck.”I know you think losing someone is a disadvantage. Caring about them enough to worry about their loss, but John, it isn’t. Caring is what makes life worth living. It’s not a disadvantage: it’s life. I hate to use myself as an advantage, but look at me. You made me care again. Are you trying to tell me my life before you was worthwhile? Because I didn’t care, not then. Not since I left Iraq. I stopped caring... before that, really.” She didn’t need to say the event that caused her to stop caring. He knew. “Look how angry you got when I needed my cane again. The thought of going back to that existence terrifies me. Don’t you see? Caring... makes you a person. You’re not a monster. Not with me, anyway.” She laughed softly, realizing how incredibly corny she was about to sound. “You’re not a kite without strings, you’re a butterfly flying to the beat of your own drum. So long as you continue to care, you’ll always be a butterfly to me, and never an ugly kite.”

She turned her head, kissing his cheek gently, settling her hand just over his heart. “Don’t ever think caring is a disadvantage. And don’t ever stop caring. It’s your best feature. Your ability to care despite your circumstances... I don’t care what you say, it really is an advantage.”

[coatandscarf]

At that, John snorted derisively, reaching up to cover the hand on his chest with his own as he leaned into the gentle brush of lips against his cheek.

“Of course I’m not going to stop caring, I just said that.” he sniffed. “Don’t be deliberately stupid, you’re the least stupid person I know.”

He was quiet for a while, resting his head against hers, then sighed and turned to kiss her again. He was getting bored, and he knew what Randy was trying to do...he just didn’t know how to tell her that she’d done it, she was doing it. He didn’t know how to give it voice or how to say the words without truly crippling him in unspeakable ways.

Because she was wrong. Caring was a disadvantage...a nice one, but still debilitating. And now he had four chinks in his armor, not three. Randy was a bigger one than Jane and Jock, mostly because she was still such an unknown factor, and he had no idea how to protect his flank where she was concerned. Jane and Jock, he’d grown up with, he knew them well enough, trusted them enough to know where he could and could not ignore them.

Randy...no, she needed the most work.

“So,” he finally sighed, narrowing his eyes at her peevishly, “stop being boring and start walking. The cops are all idiots, and I want those snipers behind bars. Or beaten...whichever’s easier to do.” He paused, then slid off the bed and offered her his hand again.

“I’d be lost without my Watson.”

----------

His Watson. Good God, that was absolutely adorable. She watched him for a few moments, knowing that being ‘the least stupid person’ was his way of complimenting her. He wasn’t going anywhere. He wouldn’t be leaving her, and she knew that by caring, he’d do anything he could for her. Suddenly, her willingness to do the same wasn’t so scary.

She took his hand, gently pressing her palm against his, her fingers settling on his pulse point and allowing him to do the same. It was funny, how the gesture had become their touch, something only they shared with one another. His heart was steady, but faster than usual. She knew her own would still be racing to him, even if her outward composure didn’t reflect that nervousness. “And I’d be nothing without my Sherlock.” She slipped from the bed then, her knee feeling a bit unsteady, but she had enough strength in it that she was confident with her ability to stand on it. She’d have a slight limp, but she wouldn’t need the blasted cane to support herself. Smiling softly, she leaned in to kiss him lightly. “I knew you’d fix me,” she whispered, gently running her fingers through his curls before drawing back to exit the room, unwilling to release his hand entirely. “Let me check in on Paul again, I know I left him hanging. And I’m sure you’ll want to question him about what he saw. He’ll be reliable, he’s got a fairly good eye for that sort of thing.” She smirked up at him as they walked back to the room. “Nowhere near as good as yours though. So don’t get angry at him.”

Stepping into the room, she nodded to Paul, who had made himself comfortable against Jane’s side. “Commander. Up for some questions?”

Paul nodded, squeezing Jane’s fingers lightly. “Fair enough, you answered mine. What do you want to know?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Be nice, or I’ll make you dance with me.” Jane warned, pointing a warning finger at John. “Quickstep.”

Making a face to show he was sufficiently warned, John regarded Paul with a healthy dose of loathing. After all, he was dating Janie, social convention dictated he had to protect her from her boyfriends...and the closer Jane got to someone, the more likely it was she could get hurt. She was fragile.

“Obviously, he doesn’t have a good eye, no one does.” John snorted, taking his usual place behind Randy, arms around her and chin atop her head. “But you’re not as blind as most, Randy.” Giving Paul his attention again, he sighed.

“First? Don’t have sex with my sister at least three days before I ever have to see you, it’s obvious and disgusting.”

“JOHN!” Jane groaned, hiding her face against Paul’s shoulder as she struggled to decide whether to laugh or kill him.

“Second, I’ll start with an easy one, since you’re military: did you get a look at what kind of rifles they were using?” he continued without missing a beat.

-----------

Paul smirked outright. Older brother or not, she was not his to control. She was a gorgeous woman that needed to move out from behind his shadow. “First? No, you can go to hell.” He paused a moment, going over his memory. “Second, it was a [Rilfe here]. It’s an older model, one used not in active duty anymore. A lot of boys take them from the Taliban though, as a trophy, because they’re still amongst the best out there.”

“So I have to know. Shaggy and black haired Fred?”

Paul laughed at that, mildly embarrassed. “It was the first thing that came to mind. Shaggy was a dirty blonde, but grown out, like most ex-military do when they get out.” Not you, though. Can’t let that guard down, can you? he thought to himself before continuing. “He had that sort of lanky look, and favored his left arm. Was definitely left hand dominant. Black haired Fred, well, you remember Fred from Scooby Doo, right? Big upper torso, small lower body? He resembled that. Bulky without being fat. Not very mobile due to his size, though. It’s the only reason that I lasted against him---” He was cut off with a scoff from Randy, who was clearly unimpressed with his modesty. “Shut up, Randy.”

She laughed, motioning for him to continue. “Yes, Sir, Commander Sonic. What else do you remember?”

Paul paused then. “I did not get a good look at Shaggy; however, Fred has dark eyes. He’s also got a hell of a black eye forming in the near future.” Paul held his hand up, showing the blood on his academy ring. “Boxer’s nose, like he’s been in a few fights in his lifetime. Frankly, I never would have put him down as a sniper. He didn’t seem the type. So either he was there for protection, or he breaks the mold. I can get a sketch of him out, though. That is, describe him to a sketch artist.” He looked at John again. “What else? Do you want what they were wearing?” This was almost amusing to him, being questioned like a witness. And not even by another cop, either. The irony was not lost on him.

[coatandscarf]

John narrowed his eyes at Paul even harder, then snorted and scowled.

“Shoes are all I’m interested in.” he muttered darkly.

Jane grinned, facing Paul and kissing the unmarked part of his forehead. “Look at that. That’s almost nice for my brother.”

“Downright sweet. Welcome to the family, mate.” Jock teased. “I’m calling this a win: now Janie can make you dance with her instead of us.”

“Ohhhhh, no, you’re still helping me with the quickstep, too!”

“If you put me in that posture bar again, I’ll hurt you.” Jock warned.

Jane just stuck her tongue out at him and grinned, tucking her head against Paul’s shoulder.

“Well, at least now she’s not climbing me like a bloody monkey.” John muttered, settling himself more comfortably around Randy.

----------

‘Posture bar’? Paul mouthed, royally confused. He spoke up again, ignoring the comment about the posture bar, instead saying that Fred was wearing a pair of military-esque shoes (smaller than John’s, but bigger than Paul’s), and he didn’t get a look at Shaggy’s. Randy just snickered, patting John’s hand lightly now that he held her once more.

“Yes, indeed, I’m happy she’s not a monkey on your back, too. Having both of you on my back would make me need a posture bar myself.” It earned her a well-deserved glare, and she chuckled. At that point, Robertson entered the room, and Randy tensed against John. Far too many people in such a small space.

“Someone want to tell me what’s going on already? Baker, what the hell happened to you?”

“Uhh, can we do this elsewhere? Paul checks out, he’s surprisingly alert for a man who was just hit on the head. Upstairs, perhaps? I’m afraid this office was not built to hold this many people at once.” Paul was about to interrupt when she continued. “I’ll have your paperwork done by the time you’re ready to go. I know you don’t want to miss work. I’ll give you clearance after I’ve observed you a little longer.” She just needed out of here, where so many were fit into so small a space.

~~~~

“And I’m going to punch anyone that upsets Randy again.” John informed them all casually.

Rolling his eyes, Jock nodded for Robertson to follow him out of the office. “C’mon, mate. Walk with me, talk with me.”

Jane did the same, hooking her arm through Paul’s. “Come on. I have dandelion and burdock soda in the office minifridge...don’t say I don’t know how to treat a man.”

“Good God...can I kill them?” John groused, rolling his eyes at Paul and Jane...as he draped his arm across Randy’s shoulders and pressed his nose to the top of her head as he steered her out of the office and headed for the stairs leading up to Shamrock Investigations.

----------

“Do it, and you’ll upset me. Which means you’ll have to punch yourself in the face. Which could make things awkward, considering how I’d punch someone that would dare punch you. It would set off a rather bad domino effect, John, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Randy quipped, grinning up at him as she curled an arm around his waist. She lingered in the back, putting a ‘ring the Shamrock bell’ sign up and locking the offices before moving once more up the stairs.

It was easy to settle them all in the upstairs offices once they all entered. It wasn’t so easy getting the story out to Robertson’s satisfaction. How does one explain the unprovoked nature of Melinda Sharpe and the actions that took place this morning? There was no logical explanation. But somehow, everyone in the room knew that it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. The real question that no one was asking was ‘when would she come back’?