Darkness Series
Part 2: A Shot In The Dark

"Chicken at nine o'clock. Vegetables between eleven and one - carrots at eleven, beans at one - and chips between two and seven."

 

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Could be a long meal then."

 

Nicole laughed and picked up her cutlery. "You know what I mean."

 

"Yes," he smiled. "I do. But it sounds ridiculous."

 

"Very practical, though."

 

She watched him lower his fork to the chips, finally managing to stab several and using his knife to work out their length before eating them, listening as she continued.

 

"And you manage well. I've known other people who never got the hang of that."

 

He smiled as he chewed and swallowed before stretching out one hand and then hesitating, not wanting to knock the object over with a clumsy movement.

 

"Glass at two thirty," Jarod heard quietly from opposite him. With unerring aim, he gently reached out and picked it up.

 

"Does it taste that bad?" Nicole queried laughingly.

 

"No," he smiled. "I'm just used to drinking while I eat."

 

She laughed softly and they ate for several moments in silence. Eventually Jarod raised his head, hesitatingly asking another question that had been taxing his curiosity for some time.

 

"Will you tell me more about when you couldn't see?"

 

Nicole placed her cutlery down on either side of her plate. "What did you want to know?"

 

"What caused it?"

 

"I fell down a flight of stairs."

 

He choked on his drink. "You did what?"

 

"I was running downstairs at work when I tripped and fell. My head hit the handrail, knocking me out." She sipped her wine. "I came around with a terrible headache and no vision whatever. Like you, there was no structural damage that showed up on tests and all they were able to say to me was the same thing I told you - wait and see."

 

"And it took a year?"

 

"A little over, in fact. Fourteen months. By the end of that time, I could detect strong or contrasting light. A few weeks later I could detect some outlines and movements. By the end of three months, if I tried, I could focus on things. Big things. Nothing small or detailed."

 

"And…" Jarod hesitated for a moment. "What did you do?"

 

"A couple of weeks after my injury, I became interested in learning about what could be wrong, so I began to study that field. It wasn't easy, but with help from libraries and people at the hospital, I did the research for a course in optical and neurological medicine. When my doctor told me that I could read again, I’d done all the necessary work, so I sat the exams and came back to work with further qualifications."

 

* * *

 

"I don't know whether that's allowed!"

 

Nicole looked up to see Ann walking towards them from the doorway and laughed. "I should have guessed that we couldn't go anywhere without being caught by someone from work." She turned to her dinner partner. "Jarod, these are Dr. Ann Stevens and her husband Roger. Ann was working in emergency when you were brought in. She's been... curious about you."

 

"Oh, really?" Jarod tried to keep his tone light, but Nicole saw concern in his eyes and wondered at it. "Am I such an exciting character?"

 

"I'm interested in everybody." Ann shook his hand and sent a mock-glare at Nicole. "But I wasn't expecting you to be told that."

 

"Can we join you?" Roger interposed with a grin.

 

"We-ell," Nicole responded, in mock-seriousness. "That depends. If you promise not to report me to the board for having dinner with a patient and having him stay at my home then I... Oops!" She laughed. "Guess I gave too much away."

 

Ann raised her eyebrows as she took a seat beside Jarod. "That's far too much information. And I always thought you were the soul of discretion."

 

* * *

 

"How's the leg?"

 

Nicole looked over as she got behind the wheel to see Jarod sitting with his eyes closed and she believed that she could guess his response before he gave it. There was a beat of silence before he replied.

 

"Not bad."

 

"When we get home," the doctor offered, "I can give you something for it."

 

"I'll see," he replied, noncommittally.

 

She laughed. "I wasn't intending that the night be this late, but Ann can talk a lot."

 

"So I noticed." Jarod smiled faintly. "But it was entertaining."

 

"I'm glad you thought so. With the amount of medical jargon we were talking, I'm impressed that you could keep up. Roger was very lost."

 

"I've... done some work in the field." Jarod opened his eyes, facing straight ahead and hoping that she wouldn’t ask anything else. His companion refrained from speaking and the remainder of the trip was silent.

 

* * *

 

Nicole awoke and rolled over, groaning as she saw that it was only half past two. She was about to go back to sleep when the sound that had woken her was repeated and she sat up. At the third disturbance, she got out of bed. Pulling on her bathrobe, she walked over to silently open Jarod's door.

 

For several seconds she watched as he tossed in his sleep, the cast on his leg stopping him from moving too violently. But it was when he started to call out again that she walked over and shook him. He sat up, gasping for breath, but clearly still panicking, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

"It's all right, Jarod. You're awake."

 

Hearing the quiet voice coming out of the darkness, Jarod sank back against the mattress, feeling the beads of sweat slip down his face as his heart pounded in his ears, closing his eyes, trying to block the images from his mind that had appeared in the dream. He felt the mattress bend as she sat beside him.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Turning his head away, he forced his breathing to slow down, remaining silent.

 

"Jarod, I know people sometimes have nightmares about accidents they’ve had, but I also happen to know that the building where you were wasn't called 'The Centre'."

 

The expression on his face as he turned to her was one of pure panic, his mind instantly planning his escape from this potentially dangerous situation, dismayed at the extent to which his injuries restricted his options. "How do you know about the Centre?"

 

"You said it several times. I think that was what woke me. So are you going to tell me what it was about?"

 

His response was hesitating. "I… don't know if I can..."

 

"You do know you can trust me." She placed her hands on his. "If you couldn't, I don't somehow think you'd still be here."

 

He nodded slowly, his face still turned down to the blanket, inwardly agreeing with what she had said, but unwilling to expose the fount of emotion that still rose whenever he had to talk about this particular topic.

 

"We can either discuss it now over a hot drink or else try and find a spare five seconds later when I get home from work. Which is preferable?"

 

He remained silent.

 

"Jarod," she stated firmly. "I mean to know about this, so which one will it be?"

 

For several seconds, he continued to stare silently into the darkness before raising his head and turning to her, speaking softly. "Now."

 

* * *

 

The kettle boiled and Nicole poured hot water into the mugs, stirring vigorously before she carried them into the living room. The woman saw that Jarod had brought one of his cases into the room and it now lay open on the table. Curious, she leaned forward and saw that it looked a little like a computer.

 

"What is it?"

 

"It's called a DSA player."

 

"So the disks would be the DSAs?"

 

Jarod nodded as she put the mug into his hands and lowered one hand to wrap the blanket more tightly around his legs. Nicole seated herself on the sofa and looked at him.

 

"Why are you showing it to me?"

 

"So I don't have to try and put it all into words."

 

Jarod leaned forward and, after several moments of searching for the switch with his hand, finally activated the machine, listening to the familiar sound of the DSA that he had seen more than any other in that case. Nicole silently watched the image of a boy walking around a scale model of the Empire State Building. She glanced from the boy to the man who sat silently beside her, but didn't interrupt. Finally he reached over and, after fumbling for the button, was able to stop it. There was a moment of silence before the other occupant of the room spoke.

 

"How old were you then?"

 

"Four."

 

"And… what? Did they take you, buy you, or what?"

 

Jarod rested back in the chair and a strange expression crossed his face. "I asked somebody that same question once. He either couldn’t or wouldn't answer it at the time, but everything I've found since suggests that I was stolen from my parents."

 

She nodded. "And you got out - when?"

 

"Five years ago. I've been back a few times."

 

"Not by choice, I assume."

 

"Sometimes." He shrugged and put the mug down on the table. "There are things I need to know, that I need to find out."

 

Nicole raised an eyebrow, despite knowing that it would go unseen by the man opposite. "Like?"

 

"Like who I am." Jarod leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed sightlessly on a point between the table and the floor. "But they want me back and they've been hunting for me for years..."

 

"So that was why we couldn't call anyone and why you were nervous when Ann said that she was interested in you," Nicole commented, thinking aloud, as his reaction, even within the first minutes after his arrival at the hospital, suddenly made perfect sense.

 

He turned his face blindly in her direction, a look of interest in his eyes. "You noticed?"

 

"I was trained to notice." She smiled as she repeated his words and saw that he remembered as well.

 

* * *

 

"Well, they won't find you through us," she told him firmly.

 

"How can you be so sure?” he demanded. “They run random checks on my name all the time."

 

Nicole smiled. "Because you aren't registered under your name. We can’t register a patient under their name unless they’re carrying accurate identification, which you weren't. So the hospital has you as a 'John Doe'. Considering that there are thousands of those at places all over the country at any one time, we'd have to be pretty unlucky for the Centre to realize that it's you and come to get you."

 

Jarod sighed deeply, with a combination of relief and irritation and sat back in his chair, his hands holding the third mug of coffee that she had made for him that morning, before sharply raising his head.

 

"And you... believe me?"

 

She leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on his knee. "Jarod, I have no reason not to. Not only does everything you've told me fit in with all that I’ve found out for myself or other people told me, but there's also the DSAs you’ve got to back it up. I've heard of people pulling con jobs, but never to that extent." With a short laugh she sat back. "So what now?"

 

He raised an eyebrow, his brow furrowing. "I don't understand."

 

"Well, you obviously trust me or else you wouldn't still be here, so I can only assume you want my help. Or that you will want it."

 

He nodded slowly, speaking hesitantly, his blind eyes trained on the floor. "I will, I guess. I hadn't really thought that far ahead. But even like this they'd still want me back. I can still do simulations, with a few modifications. I can't think of any possible way in which I couldn't."

 

"Unless you were dead." A light came into the doctor's eyes as she spoke, an idea growing in her mind.

 

He rested back in the armchair after placing the mug on the coffee table, both arms folded across his chest, his face turned to hers. "Once again I have to say 'I don't understand'. And I'm not used to that."

 

Nicole reached over and put her mug down on the table before swinging her legs up onto the sofa and hugging them.

 

"Jarod, you suffered head injuries when that building collapsed. I'm a doctor and I'm a good friend of a coroner. It would be very easy for the two of us to do our own ‘simulation', with the end result being an autopsy stating that tragically Jarod Hamilton died as a result of injuries sustained in the building collapse three days ago."

 

She watched as a small smile began to curl the corners of his mouth, unable to help thinking of all the benefits that such a situation could provide for him. "You could do that?"

 

"Of course, if you wanted me to. With a little computer magic, we can make a few photographs of a cadaver with serious head injuries and I could call Miss Parker or somebody else and tell them that, unfortunately, we were unable to save your life."

 

He thought for a few seconds before looking up, and she was easily able to see the fear that had flowered in his eyes. "But... the answers I need..."

 

Nicole’s eyes softened in sympathy, her voice reflecting her emotions. "You've been searching for five years, Jarod. Why would you be able to find them now when you couldn't before? "

 

Several minutes of silence passed as Jarod stared unseeingly at the floor and Nicole watched him. The doctor saw the grin that had vanished before now return and widen, eventually resulting in the dimples appearing in his cheeks.

 

"And how long...?"

 

"We could get it done today. It should only take an hour or so." Nicole consulted her watch and then looked out at the sun that was beginning to show itself on the horizon. "It's now six thirty. If I call my friend, we could get the paperwork started by eight and have it just about all done before ten. So Jarod Hamilton will be long dead by eleven." She laughed and got up as an alarm rang in her room. "I’ve got to get ready for work. I'll get my friend to prepare everything this morning and we can finish it when I come home tonight."

 

* * *

 

"Hello, anyone home? Jarod?"

 

Nicole pushed the door shut with her foot and carried the pile of folders into the kitchen, dropping them onto the bench. Walking into the living room, she found Jarod lying on the sofa, eyes closed and one arm hanging down towards the floor. Picking up a blanket from an armchair, she gently placed it over him before going back into the kitchen and turning the kettle on. Taking the first of the folders, she rescued her glasses from her bag and, sitting on the bench, skimmed through the paperwork until the kettle boiled. With a deep sigh, she replaced the folder and turned to fill her mug.

 

"Hard day?"

 

She jumped and turned to find him standing in the doorway. "It might have been easier if I hadn't just had a heart attack."

 

Jarod smiled and carefully made his way further into the room. "I'm pretty sensitive. Most people can't do things without me noticing."

 

"Sensitive and impatient - great combination." She laughed and took a sip of her coffee, watching as he tried to work out whether she was joking. Finally he grinned.

 

"So, am I dead yet?"

 

"Have been for hours. The only thing missing is the close-up photos and I'll make those tonight."

 

She walked up to him, holding out one arm for him to grasp as she passed, and the two went into the living room again.

 

"I was thinking." Jarod hesitated as he sat down on the sofa. "I don't want Sydney to hear from an office memo - or not hear at all - about this."

 

Nicole half-smiled, unsurprised at the suggestion, having been expecting something similar since picking up on the comments, from what Jarod had told her, that revealed how important the older man was to him. "I could call him."

 

He turned to face her. "Would you mind?"

 

"Not a problem. In fact you told me that Sydney's number is pre-programmed into your phone. It'd make sense if, in an effort to contact the deceased's relatives, I call him." Her lips twitched as she spoke. He smiled in response to her banter as she leaned over and activated the speakerphone.

 

* * *

 

"This is Sydney."

 

"You don't know me, Sydney, but I'm a doctor from St. Luke's Hospital in Helena, Montana. My name's Nicole Austen."

 

"What can I do for you, Doctor Austen?"

 

"I was wondering," Nicole picked up the autopsy report from the table in front of her and flipped through it noisily. "I have reason to believe that you may be acquainted with one of my patients: a Jarod... Hamilton?"

 

"Jarod? Yes, I know Jarod. Why, is something wrong?"

 

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Nicole paused. "He was brought into the hospital after a building collapsed when he was inside it, causing massive injuries. We did everything we could..."

 

"A… are you saying that… that Jarod is... dead?"

 

"I'm afraid so. He was kept alive for three days, but a final scan showed no brain activity and there was nothing else we could have done. I'm so sorry."

 

"He... but... when?"

 

"At 5:42 yesterday afternoon. I really am so sorry, but we did the best we could. His injuries were just too severe..."

 

There was a long moment of silence at the other end before it was finally broken. "And can we - I mean - the... the body...?"

 

"I'm sorry but the hospital has a firm policy under such circumstances and, once the autopsy was completed, it was cremated. I only found your number by chance when the police finally brought his things to the hospital this afternoon. It seems they had difficulty in locating them and couldn't get them to us sooner. If I had been able to contact you earlier, be assured I would have. Please accept my most sincere condolences..."

 

* * *

 

She closed the folder and placed it on the table under her bag, to be taken by the courier service to Delaware the next day, before getting up from her chair with a groan and stretching her back.

 

"It's always hard when people die."

 

Nicole turned to see a gleam in Jarod's eye as he stood in the doorway and she laughed. "Even harder when I have to have a discussion with the deceased only thirty hours after they departed this life forever."

 

He grinned. "I suppose I should feel guilty... but somehow I don't."

 

"It's a little late for guilt now. I don't think Sydney would appreciate a call from you to deny what I just said. He's probably still trying to come to terms with it."

 

She yawned, randomly flipping through a pile of papers that she had to take back with her to the hospital tomorrow.

 

"Tired?"

 

"Just so as you'd notice." As she walked past, Nicole reached out and squeezed his hand. "If the deceased could manage no nightmares to wake me up tonight, that would be very considerate."

 

He smiled slightly. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

 

* * *

 

Nicole woke up, as usual, a few minutes before her clock would have started to ring and put out a hand to turn off the alarm. After so many months of managing to wake up before it roused her she wondered why she even bothered to set it but always did. Maybe it was due to the fact that, when he was there, sometimes they’d - she broke off that train of thought. Getting up, she grabbed her gown and slipped it around her shoulders, going to the bathroom.

 

Nicole passed Jarod's door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. Unable to help herself, the doctor peeped inside. He lay on his back, one arm stretched wide and the other lying on his bare chest. His uninjured leg hung over the edge of the bed and the cast on his left leg was tangled up in the blankets. His eyes were closed, his face for once wearing a peaceful expression, and listening for a short time, she could tell that he was still asleep. For several minutes she stood in the doorway, watching him. There were things about him that reminded her painfully of… but she wouldn't think about it. She had to get ready for work. Work had been what got her through after he...

 

Nicole’s lower lip trembled slightly and she turned away.

 

* * *

 

"Dr. Austen? There are some people here who would like to see you."

 

Harassed, she looked up from her paperwork. "I'm guessing they don't have an appointment."

 

"No, but they asked for only a few minutes."

 

Nicole looked at the papers and then up again. "And they have to talk to me?"

 

"The doctor said that, after your conversation last night..."

 

"Ah!" Finally realization struck and she nodded. "Right, yes, I'll see them."

 

Her secretary nodded, leaving the office. Nicole pulled a folder over closer to her and continued to write for a few more moments.

 

"Doctor Austen?"

 

She looked up as the four people entered her room. It took her only a second to recognize two of them and she could guess at the identity of the others. Standing, she offered her hand and shook that of the man who had spoken to her.

 

"Yes, I'm Nicole Austen. You must be Sydney. I apologize for sounding so rude but there was just the one name in Mr Hamilton's phone, so I don't..."

 

"That's fine." He indicated those who had come in with him. "These are several other people who also knew Jarod."

 

"Please," she indicated the chairs on the other side of her desk. "Sit down."

 

"We'll be brief."

 

Nicole looked across as the woman, whom the doctor assumed was Miss Parker, spoke. "It's fine. I always try to find time for friends of my patients, particularly in situations like this." She reached over and picked up the folder, offering it to Sydney. "I was going to send this to you by courier but I assume that you'll show it to the relevant people."

 

"You can be sure that that will happen," the third man told her firmly as he paced the room behind where the others sat. Nicole had instantly recognized him from the DSA that she had seen of an experiment to which Jarod had been subjected in 1995. Mr. Lyle glanced at her as Sydney began to look through the report. "Was anything else of his brought here by the police?"

 

Nicole waved a hand to indicate a bag in the corner of her office, maintaining eye contact as she spoke. "That was all they found, just a few bits and pieces - nothing that told us anything, until we found the phone."

 

"How did you know his name?"

 

"A work colleague told the police apparently. That’s what we were told when he was brought in."

 

"And was he conscious at all?"

 

Nicole looked over to meet Miss Parker's eye as she asked the question. "The autopsy report will show you the extent of his injuries. Personally, I’d say the chances of him knowing anything after the building came crashing down on his head were pretty remote."

 

Nicole saw Sydney flinch at the description of the accident and she could see the pain he was in. Miss Parker, on the other hand, was either feeling nothing or else was well practiced at hiding her emotions. After what Jarod had said the day before, she guessed it was most likely the latter.

 

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

 

She watched three of the four exchange glances, Sydney's gaze still focused on the report in his hands.

 

"No." It was Mr. Lyle who broke the silence. "I think that’s all we need." He bent down and was about to pick up the bag when Nicole spoke.

 

"I'm sorry, but without seeing some form of identification I can't just let you take it.”

 

Lyle pulled a wallet from his pocket and handed her his driver's license. She quickly took down a few of the details before returning it to him. "Thank-you." Nicole stood as they did. "I do want you to know how truly sorry I am about this."

 

Sydney looked at her. "We appreciate everything you did for him." She noticed that he kept a firm hold of the folder and saw that the expression in his eyes was still shock. It would take time, she knew, for the news to sink in, and Nicole couldn't help wondering how he would react when it did.

 

* * *

 

"Jarod?"

 

Nicole heard a soft curse as she came in through the front door and turned instantly into his room to find him sitting on the bed, a blood-soaked towel against his forehead. She knelt on the floor in front of him and pressed the towel more firmly against the wound, her eyes taking in the blood as it trickled down his face and covered his hands.

 

"What happened?"

 

His eyes traveled wildly from left to right. "What are you doing home already?"

 

She stared at him for a moment in silence. "You have no idea what time it is, do you?" As he shrugged, she leaned forward and looked up into his face. "Did you fall and knock yourself out, Jarod?"

 

He shrugged again. "I guess..."

 

"Where?"

 

"Here."

 

Nicole looked around. “No blood,” she remarked, half to herself. She placed her free hand on his and pressed it to the towel. "I'll get my case and treat that, but I want you to promise me you won't move. Okay?"

 

He nodded slowly, applying slightly more pressure as she stood up. Going into the bathroom, she could see the marks on the tiles and the pool of red, showing exactly where he had fallen. Taking her first aid kit from the shelf, she returned to the bedroom. Kneeling in front of him, she opened it and quickly extracted what she needed as she spoke.

 

"I would really appreciate it if you were honest with me, Jarod. I only want to help you - you know that."

 

He nodded again and then winced as she gently removed the towel from the wound, beginning to wash and treat it.

 

"Do you remember where you fell?"

 

"Not really," he admitted grudgingly.

 

"It was in the bathroom. And do you remember when?"

 

"The last thing I remember was going to make coffee, maybe about four."

 

She glanced down at her watch. "Do you know what time it is now?"

 

Placing one hand on his wrist, she prevented him from feeling his own watch and Jarod shrugged again, estimating roughly how long it had taken him to reach his bed after waking up on the floor, taking into account the fact that Nicole was home from work. "Around six?"

 

"It's nearly eight." With the bandage neatly applied to his head, she pulled a small flashlight out of the box, shining it into first one eye and then the other. "You do have a mild concussion, but I don't think we need to run you into emergency just so Ann gets another look at you, unless you think it's necessary."

 

He shook his head slowly and she could see that he was still in pain.

 

"Did you twist your leg?" Nicole asked gently.

 

"I think... maybe..." he confessed hesitatingly.

 

She slid a finger under the cast, easily able to feel the increased warmth and swelling. "You most certainly did. If it's no better tomorrow, I'll take you in and have it x-rayed, to be sure you haven't broken it again. Meanwhile you're spending the day in bed."

 

"But..."

 

"No arguments, Jarod,” she told him firmly, “or I'll have you readmitted. Clear?"

 

He nodded somewhat sulkily and she put a hand on his shoulder, feeling that the t-shirt he wore was damp.

 

"Shall we take this off?"

 

"I suppose..."

 

Slowly she raised it, making sure that the material didn't touch his face, and then looked down at his bloodstained skin.

 

"That can't be comfortable. And if we ignore it, it will only get worse." She picked up a damp cloth and handed it to him. "How about you wipe some of it off while I get a towel and clean the rest of you up?"

 

As Jarod nodded, she stood and gently squeezed his shoulder with one hand before she left the room. Returning, she placed a cup on his beside table and knelt down in front of him, dabbing at the blood that had run down his face, gently cleaning it out of his eyes and lashes.

 

"I know you're frustrated, Jarod..."

 

"Don't,” he protested quickly, trying to turn away. “Please."

 

"What are you afraid of me knowing about you that I don't already?" She took one of his hands in hers, wiping the blood off. "I remember how bad it was, trying to do things faster than I was really able to. And I was angry when I had to have help too. It's a matter of pride that a person can do a thing as basic as stay alone all day without assistance. But sometimes you have to overcome that and ask for help. Especially in times like this." She placed a hand against the cheek she had just wiped clean. "I want you to promise me that, if you need help, you'll ask for it. Nobody else has to know except us."

 

"And if I don't?" he demanded.

 

"I'll have a lot more respect for you as a person if you do," she told him quietly

 

The man considered for a moment in silence before slowly nodding. She smiled and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

 

"I'm glad, Jarod."

 

He wasn't able to see the tears Nicole blinked out of her eyes as she picked up the cup that she had brought in earlier, placing it in his hand. Raising an eyebrow, Jarod closed his fingers around the smooth ceramic.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Something to help ease the pain."

 

There was a small smile on his face as he put it to his lips. "I didn't ask for it."

 

She stood up. "You didn't have to."

 

* * *

 

It was an hour later that Nicole came and stood beside his bed, watching him sleep. Knowing that the medication would keep him asleep for some time, she put out a hand and ran one finger down his cheek. Particularly now, when he was sleeping, the similarities were so great that they caused a physical pain inside her. They had spoken in the exact same way, had the same movements of the hands… and had been equally stubborn. She’d promised him on the last day that she wouldn't mourn for him too much, and she tried not to. But she hadn't even been able to look at him for the last time that he had looked at her and…

 

Nicole left his room rapidly and went into hers, closing the door and sitting on her bed. Their bed. It was theirs, even though they had only shared it for a couple of weeks. She picked up his pillow and wrapped her arms around it, her eyes fixed on the photo of him that stood on the bookcase in front of his favorite books. For several minutes, Nicole let the tears flow down her cheeks, before wiping them away and getting up to rescue the papers that she had dropped inside the front door earlier when she had first heard her guest's voice.

 

* * *

 

Jarod stretched lazily, preparing to throw back the covers and get out of bed, but a voice from the corner stopped him.

 

"I don't think so."

 

"You said tomorrow, not today," he protested.

 

Nicole laughed as she stood up and came to sit on the bed next to him. "It almost is tomorrow. It's about two minutes to midnight."

 

"Still, that gives me two minutes..." the man argued.

 

"What did you have planned - a quick jog around the block? Lifting some weights at the gym?"

 

He grinned. "Actually I was hoping for something edible."

 

"You're hungry?" She raised an eyebrow despite knowing he couldn't see it. "I'm impressed."

 

"Hey, I haven't eaten since lunchtime!" Jarod sat up, ignoring the pain and throbbing that started in his head as soon as he moved.

 

Nicole picked up a pillow and put it behind his head, gently pushing him back against it. “What do you want?"

 

"What do you have?"

 

"I thought you went through my cupboards earlier."

 

Jarod grinned. "Only kind of. I felt a little bad about it, so I didn't search far."

 

"Well, we could do some shopping the day after... I mean, tomorrow," Nicole corrected, looking at her watch.

 

"At one in the morning or something horrible?" he grumbled.

 

She smiled. "Not exactly. I have a week off work now."

 

"To look after me?" Some of the sulky tone crept back into his voice.

 

"Don't flatter yourself, Jarod," Nicole laughed. "You aren't that important. No, this was organized months ago and I'm looking forward to it because it means I might actually get some things done that I don't manage when a deputation from the Centre comes to visit me."

 

"They... what?" Jarod sat up again, his eyes wide, revealing his panic, but she pushed him back.

 

"I thought you were hungry."

 

"I was... until you said that."

 

"Tell you what." She got up from the bed. "I'll make us some soup and toast and tell you all about it."

Part 3 
 

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