Your Best Nightmare
(Yeah I know, lame title. Deal with it.)
Rating: high R
Summary: J/N romance (Haha! Poor Stevie!) Nigel comes to work with a bloody nose and no place to go home to. Jordan, of course, steps in. I fear this is the beginning of a twisted, long, and overly dramatic fanfiction with lots of gore and unbelievable situations.
WARNNG: Nigel is NOT, I repeat NOT a pedophile. There is no Michael Jackson monkey business going on later in the story.
AN: Have now become increasingly obsessed with criminal justice shows such as CSI, CSI: Miami, CSI: NY, and Crossing Jordan. Not to mention Law and Order SVU. I have a long distance girlfriend (sorta) and have a lot of romantic garble and smut I need to get out of my system.I'm warning you now people, this could get weird.
Nigel Townsend walked into work sporting two black eyes and a bloody nose.
"Oh my god! Nige! What happened to you?" Jordan exclaimed as she set eyes on the gaunt Medical Examiner.
"Imb fine Jordan. Weally. Berely a scratch." he said thickly, trying to staunch the blood from his nose.
She grabbed his arm, steering him into an empty autopsy room.
"Imb not dead yet." he quipped as she forced him to sit down.
"Sit still and tilt your head back." she ordered.
"Yeth mother." he replied sarcastically.
Jordan's cool hand smoothed back his dark hair and Nigel's heart jumped into his throat at the mere contact of her hand against the nape of his neck.
"I ran into a-"
"The truth." she said firmly.
"Landlord. Ow…" he moaned as she gently touched his rapidly bruising cheek.
Concerned, she forced him to look at her.
"I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked out." she said resolutely.
"Jordan, I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about it." Nigel replied seriously.
"I don't know…" She gazed at him appraisingly.
"I'll be ok. Besides, it was my fault in the first place."
"Nigel." she said warningly.
She glared at him, Nigel stared back. She narrowed her eyes and Nigel heaved a subjugated sigh.
"All right. All right." he put up his hands in defeat. "I missed my rent check. He kicked me out. I argued with him. His… goons, I guess you could call them, did this." He motioned to his cuts and bruises. "I guess it was his way of getting his payment. Don't worry about it luv. It was my fault." he grinned at her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were concerned about my well being."
She stared at him for a long moment.
"Of course I'm worried about you. You're my friend. I lo…worry about you." she blushed at her almost misspoken statement. "Where are you staying?"
He sighed and leaned back, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"I've got a place to crash, if that's what you're worried about."
"And that would be…"
"My car." he replied sheepishly.
Jordan frowned at him.
"I don't think so. You can barely sit up straight in that car, much less sleep in it." the slender brunette growled. "You can crash at my place tonight. I've got a couch you can use. And don't argue with me."
Nigel rolled his eyes and heaved himself to his feet.
"If you'll excuse me luv, I've got to go change this shirt before Garrett sees it. He'll have a fit and think I've contaminated evidence"
"Yeah. Ok. I've got paperwork to do. See you later."
She nodded and watched him leave. Very nice ass for a scrawny British guy. She thought to herself. What are you saying ! You were supposed to be concentrating on work this year. Romance can wait! Jordan shook her head, trying desperately to clear the unsavory thoughts clouding her mind. Moments later, she jumped to her feet and hurried out of autopsy room 3, headed toward the locker room.
"Hey Nigel-" she stared as she burst through the door.
Jordan cut herself off as she realized her co-worker was topless. Nigel was standing in front of a mirror, wincing as he carefully prodded a large purple bruise that was forming on his ribs. She tried not to notice his lean slender body, pale flesh exposed to the cold.
"Oh Nige! Did they do this to you! I'm taking you to the hospital! You could have broken ribs!" she babbled, hurrying to his side.
He grimaced as he turned toward her, the slight movement causing pain in his abdomen.
"I thought you had paperwork you had to do." he said in a pained voice.
Jordan looked up into the bruised and beaten face of her partner, something indescribable flickering in his dark eyes.
"It doesn't matter. I'd rather take care of you." the brunette said softly, laying a gentle hand on the bruised flesh. "Please let me take you to get checked out?" she implored.
"Goddamnit…" he swore. "Fine. But you get to tell the Bossman."
"OK." she looked around. "Where's your shirt?"
"Locker. Ow. Second shelf. Ow ow ow."
She opened his locker, peering inside, she spotted the plain black tee shirt. As she closed the locker, she glimpsed the only picture taped to the door. It was of her and Nigel at last years New Years Eve party. She was riding piggyback, arms wrapped around his neck and a huge drunken grin displayed on her face as she pressed her cheek to his. She remembered the event; she had kissed Nigel at midnight, in accordance to tradition. Her cheeks flushed cherry red at the memory.
"Alright Nige. Let's get going." she said hurriedly as she helped him put his shirt on.
Two hours and a car ride later, Jordan helped a very woozy Nigel back to her apartment.
"Come on big guy, you can make it." she encouraged as the tall British coroner stumbled out of the elevator.
"Jordan? Ya know, whatever they gave me? Is DAMN good!" he exclaimed drunkenly. "DAMN good! You should try these! They're EXCELLENT!"
"Yes Nigel. Whatever you say. Now, you have to stay upright until we get inside. Good boy." she patted him gently on the chest and she unlocked her door.
Jordan helped him inside, taking him to her bedroom instead of the couch. By the time she let him fall onto the bed, he was fast asleep. She smiled, kneeling by the end of the bed so that she could unlace his shoes. Seconds later, she placed a well-worn pair of size 10 combat boots in the entryway. When she returned to her bedroom, Nigel was still passed out cold. Whatever they had given him at the hospital had been a heavy-duty tranquilizer. She carefully cut away his t-shirt and tossed it into the garbage, returning with a fresh blanket. Jordan tucked the blanket around her friend, smoothing back his long unruly hair and finally turning out the lights. As she turned to go, she heard a voice from the bed.
"Jordan?" a sleepy voice asked.
"Thanks. No one's ever taken care of me before."
"You're welcome Nige. Get some sleep. I'll be in the den in you need me."
Moments later she could hear his slow steady breathing, indicating that he had once again fallen asleep.
"I love you Nigel…" she whispered to the unconscious man before leaving the room.
Nigel awoke to the sound of a shower running. He blinked sleepily, yawning and running a hand over his face. He looked over at the bedside clock. It read 12 o'clock AM. But 12 o'clock on what day?
The noise of the shower suddenly stopped. Nigel could hear someone getting out of the shower and drying them self off. Jordan stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her.
"Hey Nige. How are you feeling?" she asked as she toweled her hair dry.
"Much better, thanks to you."
"How are your ribs feeling?"
"Sore. But they'll heal. How long've I been out?" he asked.
"Two days… what did the boss say-"
"He gave me the week off. I'm taking care of you. Paid vacation time." she smiled. "Nigel, don't worry about anything. I'm here to take care of you. Let me go get dressed, then I'll fix something for you to eat. Alright?"
Nigel nodded. Her smile was infectious.
"Alright, I'll be ready in a few tics!" she exclaimed cheerfully.
She turned to leave and Nigel caught a glimpse of the curve of her ass. His breath caught in his throat. Think about architecture… Dead bodies…OH FOR BLOODY FUCKS SAKE! SID VICIOUS! ANYTHING YOU BLOODY IDIOT! Don't think about her lovely soft skin… The gentle curve of her- NO! BAD NIGEL! BAD BAD BAD! Jordan is just a nice girl from work who was willing to take care of you when you were hurt. There's no way in hell she would be caught dead-
"Nigel? Do you want Italian or Chinese? I seem to be completely out of anything edible. What turns you on tonight, huh?"
He almost blurted out: You turn me on, you vixen you. But curbed his tongue until he could control his thoughts.
"Uhm. Chinese sounds good. Whatever you want." he cursed himself as his voice cracked in the middle of a sentence.
"Are you alright in there?"
"Yes! I'm fine!" his voice cracked again. Damn damn damn!
"How's General Tsao's sound to you?" she called.
"Whatever!" he squeaked.
He cursed his body for responding like a pathetic schoolboy to such mediocre fantasies. God how he wanted her. Nigel wished she'd just come dancing back into the room and allow him to ravish her within an inch of her life. Damn damn bloody fucking DAMN! He looked down at his groin. On second thought… No please don't come back in here!
Nigel threw silent curses at the malevolent God of Hard-Ons for sending him a raging erection while, the one person he cared about not alienating, was in danger of walking in on him.
"Nigel? Did you just squeak at me!" Jordan's amused voice drifted in.
"No!" he squeaked. Godamnitfuckshitbloodyhell!
He could hear her walking towards the bedroom. Please please please nooooo! Nigel crossed his legs tightly and placed a pillow in his lap.
"Nigel? Are you in pain? Can I get you something?"
"No! I'm fine! Don't come in!"
"Are you sure?"
"Alright. I'm going to go pick up the food. I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Do you need anything before I go?"
"Nope! I'm fine!" Except for the fact that I need a bloody cold shower!
There was a pause.
"Ok. I'm going."
He heard her heels clicking on the wood floor of the entryway, breathing a huge sigh of relief as the door slammed behind her. Nigel glared down at his mutinous crotch.
"Alright mate. Never do that again. Especially around Jordan. God Nigel, you fucking wanker!" he cursed at himself.
Ten minutes and one freezing shower later; Nigel got dressed and sat down on the couch to think.
I really do love her… No matter how peculiar I get, she still always takes the time to say hello to me and check up on me. She's so beautiful. And not in that fucking dyed blonde, large knockered, ten inch waisted way. She likes the same things I like, not to mention the fact that we work together. Oh god, Nigel you bloody idiot! You can't fall in love now! There's no way in hell she could love you. Damn damn damn. Well there's nothing for it but to get out of this house before you say or do something stupid. Just pack your bags and walk away. Go on, it's very simple. MOVE YOU IDIOT!
Shaking himself out of his daydream, Nigel stood up and moved into the bedroom to collect his things. The confused Brit made up the bed and cleaned up the bathroom, throwing the soiled towels into the laundry. He had just picked up his backpack and was headed toward the exit, when Jordan walked in.
"Hey Nige. Whatcha doin'? Here, grab this bag; I think I'm going to drop it. Thanks."
She bustled into the kitchenette, pulling out little cardboard cartons of food and putting them on the table. Nigel stood in the living room, mouth hanging open slightly and feeling very frustrated.
"Well come on Nige. Don't just stand there. Grab a plate. I'm famished!" she giggled, putting on a British accent at the last two words.
Nigel silently placed the paper bag on the table and got a place out of the cabinet.
"Let's eat on the couch. I don't feel like being formal." Jordan said lightly, kicking off her boots and sending them flying into the wall, causing a dent to form in the plaster.
"Damn… There goes my security deposit. Oh well!"
Jordan flopped down on the couch and flipped on the TV.
"Whatcha wanna watch?"
Nigel shrugged, sitting down silently next to her on the couch.
"Ooh ooh! Eureka's castle! I love this show! I used to watch it with my cousins!"
The tall Brit couldn't help but smile at his secret love's childish enthusiasm. He sank back into the cushions and started in on his MooShoo pork, stabbing at each of the pieces of meat as if they were Woody's head. Wanker. Wanker WANKER! He shouted silently at himself and the MooShoo pork.
Two hours passed before Nigel got up the courage to actually leave. He heaved himself to his feet and crossed to the kitchen, cleaning his plate and putting it in the dishwasher.
"Nigel, you're so anal retentive. You know that?" Jordan called sleepily from the living room.
"Yes love, I suppose I am." he replied, folding up the numerous cardboard containers and placing them in the fridge. After that, he wiped down the table and countertops., returning to the living room and picking up his backpack.
"Uhm Jordan..?" he said softly.
"Yeah?" she replied, not looking up from the TV.
Not hearing a reply from her lofty British friend, she turned off the TV and looked up at him.
"Nige? What's the matter?" she asked, getting up.
"Look… Jordan. I really appreciate you letting me stay here. It's more than I could ask from anyone else…" he trailed off sadly.
"Nigel? What's wrong?" she asked, gently touching his face.
He turned away from her, ashamed of his thoughts of love for her. She'll never love you. His inner daemons hissed.
"I have to go Jordan. I can't intrude on your hospitality any longer. I-I'll see you at work luv." he mumbled solemnly.
"Nige? Are you hurting? What hurts?" she asked, very much concerned.
He sighed, leaning against a wall.
"Oh for the love of Bob… What hurts..?" Wow. There's a loaded question… "My heart hurts. And my soul. Because I want you and I can't have you. You're this gorgeous, intelligent, perfect woman and I'm a fucking crypt keeper! There's no way in hell someone like you could go for me. So if you don't mind, I'll just be leaving now. I may drown myself in a bottle of whisky, but I'm content in the knowledge that I'll go out with a bang…" he sighed, the cat was out of the bag. And he had been stupid enough to let it.
"You're an idiot." she grinned.
"What?" he gasped, eyes bulging out of their sockets.
"You heard me. You're an idiot."
He glared at her, she grinned impishly back at him.
"Can you please just shoot me now? I think it would be better that way. Put me out of my misery." Nigel muttered in confusion.
Jordan backed him up into a wall, running a hand down his cheek.
"You really are an incredible idiot!" she giggled.
She reached up on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his thin lips. Nigel's arms automatically twined around her waist, lifting her up, her hands resting on his bony shoulders.
"I love you." he breathed when they pulled away finally. "All I do is think about you. If this is just to humor me, I swear I will go and quietly kill myself somewhere."
Her smiled faded.
"Don't you dare do anything of the sort Nigel Townsend." she growled. "Nige, I love you. Why can't you believe me?"
"You're too perfect to love someone like me." he whispered.
Jordan leaned her forehead against Nigel's peering directly into his eyes.
"You ridiculously dense limey. Come to bed." she murmured, inhaling his scent, Old Spice deodorant and that special Nigel smell.
She led him to her room, shedding her clothes as they closed the door to the bedroom. She felt his eyes on her, admiring her shapely body, one long fingered hand came up to caress her bare breast.
"You're perfect." he whispered in awe as he lowered her onto the bed. "Absolutely perfect."
Jordan moaned as she felt his mouth on her throat, then moving to her breast and down over her smooth belly. She felt him sliding one long finger inside her body, she tensed, wanting to crush him to her.
"Nigel!" she moaned, clutching at the pillows.
He smiled at her, adding another finger inside her. She pulled him away and fumbled to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands. The shirt fell away, leaving his chest bare for her to touch.
"Oh Nigel…" she groaned before he took her mouth again in a rough kiss.
She felt him hardening through his jeans.
"Off." she snarled, desperate to have him inside her.
He laughed, quickly shedding his black jeans and boxers and pulling her on top of him. He had dreamt of this for a very long time.
"I've wanted you for so long Nigel…" she purred.
Nigel strained up and nipped her throat playfully, he growled as she kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth.
"Nigel… Nigel please!" she begged as she felt his hand between her legs.
"You're in control Jordan…" he murmured, guiding her hand to his groin. "Whenever you're ready."
Everything happened very suddenly, Jordan wrapping her arms around him tightly as she felt him slide inside her. Their bodies moved together in perfect unison, Nigel lifting her easily and moving her onto her back. His arms slid under her shoulders as he attended to her breasts. One manicured hand tangled in his hair while the other clutched at his narrow back, demanding more of him.
They came together, Jordan screaming his name piercingly, Nigel's rich accented voice moaning her name lovingly. Jordan's body shuddered and trembled with the intensity of it all. Nigel carefully lifted himself off of his lover and pulled her close, his expression sated.
"Nige, that was wonderful…" she moaned, nestling against him and placing a hand on his chest.
He encircled her with his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." he said quietly and seriously.
"I love you too. Don't you ever leave me you big limey." she ordered.
"I'll do my best." he vowed, hugging her.
They lay like that for a long time, Jordan slowly falling asleep, lulled by the steady beat of her lover's heart. Nigel looked down at her, contented that he could finally die a happy man. He hugged her tight, allowing himself to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
The following morning, Jordan awoke in the arms of the man she loved. For once in a very long time, she felt comfortable, loved. She kissed Nigel's cheek, he moaned in his sleep, shifting to accommodate her. Jordan carefully slipped out of his arms, needing to get ready for work. The blanket fell down, exposing his chest, she sat there admiring him for a few moments, loving the look of him. Skinny, underfed, wonderfully pale, British, Nigel. The brunette covered him back up quietly padding out of the room to make breakfast.
It wasn't long before Nigel woke up himself, he yawned widely and rubbed his face. He looked around for Jordan, not seeing her; he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom for a shower.
Five minute's later he emerged from the shower, toweling his long hair dry. The medical examiner shuffled into the bedroom and sorted through the pile of clothes for his jeans. Sliding them on, he stumbled out into the brightly lit living room. There was food on the stove, but no sign of Jordan.
"Jordan?" he called to the seemingly empty apartment.
"BANZAI!" came the triumphant battle cry.
Very suddenly, Nigel found himself the unwilling provider of a piggyback ride. Jordan had leapt onto his back from the top of the couch and was now quite firmly latched onto him.
"SWEET WAFFLES OF SATAN!" Nigel exclaimed in shock as Jordan giggled evilly.
Nearly toppling over, Nigel struggled to keep from dropping his precious, in not peculiar, cargo.
"Morning Nigel." she said sweetly, kissing his cheek and squeezing him.
"Err. Good morning, love. What're you doing?"
"Nothin'." she laughed. "Just making breakfast and saying hello to my boyfriend."
"Ah. I see. And the reason you're on my back is because…"
"I want to." she said simply.
"Ok. Fine with me. Now, since I am apparently your noble steed, where shall we go today?" he asked, joining in her fun.
"Let's go to the park."
"The park it is my lovely lady." he started to go to the door.
"Nige, no!" she shrieked. "I'm not wearing any clothes!"
"Your point being…"
She poked him in the stomach with her heel.
Satisfied she had punished him enough, she slipped on his back and moved around to his chest to kiss him.
"Ah, so you are naked." he quipped.
She grinned prancing around him in her birthday suit. Suddenly, she stopped, giving Nigel a panicked look.
"We have work today." she said, her face going white.
"Bloody hell. So we do. Go get dressed. We'll take my bike."
"Alright. I'll be out in a sec."
She turned and hightailed it to the bedroom.
It was already 8:20 AM, they were twenty minutes late and they needed to get to the morgue ASAP. Nigel picked up one of his discarded t-shirts, checked it over for stains, sniffed it and slipped it on over his head.
"Nige, that's disgusting." Jordan scolded as she came into the room, pulling her hair into a ponytail.
"Yes, I know." he grinned. "Shall we?"
Fifteen short minutes later, Nigel and Jordan arrived at Boston PD's Forensics building. They kissed before going in, holding hands inside the building and on the elevator ride up.
"Nigel?" she said, breaking the silence in the elevator.
"You have helmet hair."
"It needs to be fixed."
"Fix it then."
Jordan ran her hands through his long thick black hair, straightening it back into place. A strand fell into his eyes and he blew it out of the way.
"I need a haircut." he muttered, pulling his hair back and tucking it behind his ears.
"Don't you dare!" she shrieked.
"What are you gonna do about it love?" Nigel laughed.
She growled at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and straining up to kiss him. At that moment, the elevator doors opened and revealed the snogging pair to Detective Woody Hoyt.
"Jordan!" the detective exclaimed.
"Oh, hey Woody. How's it goin'?" Jordan asked the middle-American cop coolly.
"What-What the hell are you doing with Nigel? And in an elevator for Christ's sake! WITH Nigel!" Woody nearly yelled.
They stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hall to the autopsy rooms.
"Jordan! JORDAN! I asked you a question!" Woody yelled.
Jordan whirled around.
"It's none of your business, Woody. You don't own me." she hissed, Nigel stood behind her, looking angry.
"It is too my business! When my girlfriend goes around with some freak-"
"FREAK! You asshole! Nigel is not a freak! How dare you attack him like that! You bastard. It doesn't matter anyway, I am not your girlfriend."
Woody seemed to be baring his teeth, both men's hackles were raised and Jordan wasn't exactly doing anything to help.
"It does matter Jordan! Why the hell would you sleep with a fucker like that?" the angry man yelled at her.
Jordan held a hand against Nigel's chest, sensing he was ready to attack.
"Leave me alone Woody. We've had this discussion before. You obviously don't care enough about me if, every time I do something not to your liking, you go running to Devan! Nigel loves me for who I am. And I love him. So leave me the fuck alone!"
She turned; grabbed Nigel's hand and they went of to autopsy.
It was about twelve that afternoon that the first victim came in. One of many to come in a case that would dumbfound many in the Boston PD. The DB was a fourteen-year-old girl. Cause of death: Suffocation.
The morgue was absolutely silent until Nigel slammed down his hands angrily, causing Jordan to jump two feet in the air.
"Goddamnit!" the Brit swore angrily.
Jordan stopped what she was doing.
"What's the matter?" she asked, concerned.
"The rape kit's positive. What fucking physco would rape a fourteen-year-old girl! Oh god if I could get my hands on the bastard that did this!" Nigel was shaking with fury; he snapped off his gloves and sat down, putting his face in his hands.
"Nige, come on, honey. There's nothing you can do!" Jordan said soothingly.
"That's just it Jordan! I can't do a bloody thing! All I can do is tell the parents how and when their children died! This is intolerable!" he growled.
There was a timid knock at the door.
"Um, Dr Townsend?" came an apprehensive voice.
"I, er, have two more bodies for you. Detective Hoyt said to get them to you specifically." the nervous intern said.
"Bring them in." he said, waving the intern in exasperatedly.
The nervous medical student carefully wheeled the covered gurneys in one by one. The forms underneath the sheets were relatively small. Jordan's heart leapt into her throat.
"You'd better go. I'm dangerously close to killing something." Nigel hissed.
The intern nodded and hightailed it out of the morgue.
The ME didn't answer, only wheeled the first gurney under the light. He carefully drew back the cloth.
"Son of a bitch!" he swore.
Jordan went over and gazed into the face of another young teenaged girl. Nigel tore back the sheet covering the second body; it was the same there.
"What fucking sicko did this?" Nigel breathed, his brow knitted.
Very suddenly, he grabbed Jordan and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair.
"Promise me I'll never find you on one of these gurneys. Promise me you won't let yourself be killed like one of these girls." he said, she could hear tears in his voice.
"Nigel, I'll be ok. I promise." she promised, stroking his hair soothingly. "It'll be ok. Now let's get these girls autopsied so we can find out who the bastard is who did this. Alright?"
Nigel gritted his teeth and nodded, finally releasing her.
"I will find you, you bastard, and I will kill you." he vowed softly, referring to the girls' murderer.
The tall coroner carefully transferred the first body onto a slab and put her into the storage freezer.
"Jordan, help me lift her onto the table?" he asked, referring to the second body.
She nodded and helped him move the second girl onto the table. Nigel turned the spray on and tested it against his hand before he began washing the body off.
"Look at her Jordan, she's not even eleven." he breathed, indicating the lack of hair growth. "I'm so sorry love…" he murmured, speaking to the body.
"You want me to do this?" Jordan asked.
"No. I'll be ok."
She retrieved a fresh rape kit from a drawer and placed it on the tray next to Nigel.
"She should be at school. Talking with her friends and looking at boys. Not lying on this slab."
Four long, exhausting hours later, the autopsies were finished. All three had been killed the same way. Raped, then suffocated, probably with a plastic bag.
Nigel tossed his gloves in the trash bin and threw his disposable smock in after them. He washed his hands, then sat down and ran his hands through his hair angrily.
"How you doing Nigel?" a voice that wasn't Jordan's asked. It was Garret.
Nigel looked up at his superior.
"Fine sir, the reports are in your In box on your desk." Nigel replied. "Is there a problem?"
"No. No problem. Just coming to talk to you and Jordan about something that Detective Hoyt said."
Nigel felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in anger.
"Woody started it!" Jordan spoke up.
"I'm aware of that. I just wanted to hear your side of things." Garret said calmly.
Nigel stood up angrily.
"Look, Jordan and I are going out. It has no effect on our work whatsoever. Whatever you've heard about me, whatever Woody has said, probably isn't true. I've been here all the bloody fucking day trying to figure why the hell someone would rape and kill three innocent girls. All under the age of sixteen. So bloody excuse me if I'm a little bloody mad at the moment!" Nigel exploded.
Garret stared at the taller man.
"Yeah. For now."
"Good. Jordan, Nigel, you need to get out of here early. I'm letting you out early. Go home… Do… whatever it is that you do." the baldheaded man ordered.
With that he left, letting the door swing shut behind him.
"I like him." Nigel said tiredly. "I really like him."
Jordan leaned against him.
"Yeah. I like him too. He's a good man." she agreed. "Let's go home."
Nigel nodded and began shutting off the lights in the morgue.
"Meet you at the front." he said. "There's something I need to do."
Jordan hesitated, but acquiesced and went to the locker room to retrieve her coat. When she had left and Nigel was sure he was alone, he spoke to the bodies of the three dead girls.
"I'll get the guy who did this to you. I promise. I promise." he vowed, staring at the three spaces where the bodies were held.
Everyday for a week, along with the normal amount of suicide vics, accidental deaths, and rare murders, three girls under the age of sixteen, all raped then suffocated, were brought into the morgue. The strain was rapidly becoming too much for Nigel Townsend, everyday he looked into the face of an innocent victim. Every day his anger toward their murderer built and built.
There were no more confrontations with Woody. At least none where Nigel was involved. He was completely obsessed with finding the girls' killer. He spent hours, pouring over his notes and trying to find something he could use, but there was nothing. Until one day, the Friday of that week. He had been forced to autopsy the body of a twelve year old girl, as he had finished up, Woody Hoyt had entered the morgue.
"Townsend." Hoyt said.
"Detective Hoyt. How can I help you?" he asked dispassionately as he washed his hands.
"We have a lead on the rape/suffocation case."
Nigel's head snapped up.
"You're joking! What? What's the lead? Oh bloody hell!" he asked eagerly.
"We've been working on a lead and that lead turned into a bit of a rattlesnake nest. It's a child-brothel. Parents… selling their own children to get a few extra bucks. The owner's name is Blake Mueller. He's a, supposedly, high-end real estate agent. We expect it's just a front though."
"Are you going to mount a sting operation? Is there anything I can do to help?"
Woody glanced up at the eager ME.
"Actually, there is, probably. You see, most of the guys involved in this… brothel are rather unsavory types. None of my officers are willing to pierce or-"
"Oh I get it, you need a freak to infiltrate the brothel. And I'm the only freak you know? Honestly Detective, that's really quite pathetic."
"Look, are you willing to help us or not?"
"Of course I'll help. What can I do?"
The detective motioned for him to follow.
"We need you to wear a wire and capture on tape what's going on over there. Maybe get some incriminating evidence on Mr Mueller. It'll be dangerous." Woody warned.
"I don't care. I'd do anything to help those girls. When can I start?"
"Tonight if you're willing."
"Of course. Of course."
"Alright, come with me and we'll get you suited up."
That evening, Nigel found himself in a place he had prayed he'd never go. A brothel. The moment he entered the door, he could hear screams and laughter.
"Mr Black?" a voice asked, a hand prodding him.
"Huh oh yeah. Sorry."
"Come in here. I understand you'd like to speak with our boss?"
"If that would be at all possible."
"But of course. Just sit down here. It will be a while. I shall send in some… entertainment." the small man leered at him.
Mere seconds later, a young girl was dragged kicking and screaming into the room. Nigel was automatically disgusted. The bastards had dressed the prepubescent girl in a baby doll outfit. He grit his teeth as the small man dragged the blonde girl, by her hair, to Nigel. Bruises riddled her face and body, tears streaked her cheeks. Nigel wanted to comfort her, but knew he couldn't.
"Why don't you sit on the gentleman's lap Katie? I'm sure he'd like that." grinned the small man.
Shaking, the blonde girl moved to sit in Nigel's lap, he held his breath as she did, not knowing how to react.
"I'll go get Mr Mueller he's always happy to meet a new customer."
"Good man." Nigel replied, trying to sound aroused.
The door clicked shut and Nigel searched around for cameras. Seeing none, he took the girl's face in his hands. She flinched away.
"Listen to me. Katie, listen to me. My name is Nigel Townsend. I'm with the Boston Police department. Are you injured in any way?" he whispered.
She shook her head, biting her lip.
"What's your full name?"
"Kathryn Gladyss Wilkes. I-I'm eleven."
"Ok, sweetie, I now you're scared. I know you want to go home. I'm going to try to get you out of here. How long have you been here?"
At that moment, the door opened and a fat balding man oozed in.
"Mr Black. Allow me to introduce myself! I'm Blake Mueller. This is my associate Mr Gardener. Ah, I see you've taken a liking to Miss Katie here."
"Ah yes. About that. I was wondering. I'm… very interested in Katie. I was hoping you be willing to part with her, for a price of course. Say… five thousand dollars?"
Mueller looked at him suspiciously, then his fat face softened.
"Of course! Five thousand is more than enough. Now, while Miss Katie here goes and gets her things, why don't I show you around. Tell you about us." he sneered.
"Lovely." Nigel nodded, giving Katie a little nudge.
Blake Mueller proved to be a gigantic pedophile. Apparently he had raped all of his 'property', and thought it was his right to do so.
"Mr Mueller. How do you come by so many beautiful girls?" Nigel asked.
"Oh, here and there. Parents who can't give up a drug habit. Or maybe some who have to many kids. All you have to do is ask. Everything has a price." he leered at a pair of twins who were locked in a cage together, huddled in the corner with their arms wrapped around each other. "Like these two. Laurie and Anna, their mother was an amphetamine addict. Gave them up for two thousand a pop. They're quite a favorite around here."
"Hmm…" Nigel pretended he was interested.
"Anything tickle your fancy?"
"Not at the moment. Mr Mueller, I thank you for the tour. I thank you even more for the 'sample' you were kind enough to part with. I shall be back in a few days to discuss a business proposition with you."
He began to walk away.
"Mr Black. Wait a moment. You're forgetting my money."
"Ah, of course. I'll bring it when I come here next."
Again, Nigel was fixed with a wary gaze.
"I trust you Mr Black. I don't know why. But I do." the bulbous man said.
Nigel nodded and walked out the door, Katie was waiting for him, still wearing the baby doll outfit. She had a small bag in her arms and was looking nervous.
"Come on baby." Nigel said, forcing himself to treat Katie like a sex object.
His hand on the small of her back, Nigel led her out of the building and into the bright sunshine of the cold Boston day. As soon as he was sure they were out of sight, Nigel took off his coat and placed it around the small girl's shoulders.
"I'm so sorry sweetie. I know that was terrible for you. I'm going to take you to the police station, you'll be safe there." he promised.
He helped her into the care, found a blanket in his trunk and wrapped it around her, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the car. He pulled away from the curb and sped away into downtown Boston.
Jordan stared angrily at Woody Hoyt.
"You let him what!" she hissed furiously.
"Hey, I didn't make him do anything he didn't want to do." shrugged Woody with a smirk.
At that moment, Nigel burst in carrying a child bundled up in, what Jordan recognized as, the fleece blanket Nigel kept in his car.
"Someone get this girl some clothes please. And a hot meal!" Nigel yelled.
Jordan hurried over to him.
"Nigel? What happened? Who is she? Is she OK?" Jordan burst frantically.
"Yeah. I think she's ok physically. She's just scared. Katie, say hello to Jordan. She's my girlfriend."
"Hi." the girl said softly.
"Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?" Jordan asked.
"I hurt." she moaned.
"Where do you hurt?" Nigel asked, dreading the answer.
"Down there." she muttered.
Nigel's heart plummeted into his stomach. Bastards. Those BASTARDS. He wanted to scream and rail, but knew he had to remain calm for Katie's sake.
"Alright. I'm taking her to the hospital. Ok Katie."
"Can I please take a shower first?" she asked in a small voice.
"Of course you can." Jordan said. "Nigel, I'll take care of her. This is a girl thing. Right Katie?" she winked at the girl.
"Alright. I'll wait here." he said, letting Katie down so that she could walk.
"Come on sweetie." Jordan said, motioning for Katie to follow her.
Two and a half hours later, a newly cleaned, clothed, and checked Katie walked out of the hospital with a relatively clean bill of health. Nigel was horrified to find that she had been sexually assaulted several times. There was a large amount of scarring and it would probably interfere on her ability to reproduce later on in life, but, as Nigel thought to himself, that was merely a minor problem in the grand scheme of Katie's future.
"Are you hungry Katie?" Jordan asked.
The girl shook her head and went back to staring out the window, her aura radiating sadness.
"We're going to take you to child protective services, get you placed with a foster family till we can find your mum." Nigel said, trying to sound reassuring.
There was a sharp intake of breath at the prospect of being left alone with a family she didn't know.
"Please don't make me do that." she begged quietly. "I've been in foster care before. Can't I just go home with you?" she pleaded with him.
Jordan and Nigel exchanged glances.
"I don't see why not." Jordan said. "Nigel, would that be alright?"
"If it's ok with you, it's ok with me." the Brit replied.
"Cool. You're coming home with me and Nige." Jordan said brightly, reaching into the backseat and holding Katie's hand.
The young girl smiled brightly, her first real smile in weeks. She squeezed Jordan's hand; glad to have someone to care what happened to her.
Dinner at Jordan's apartment went swimmingly. Katie finally had a chance to be a regular teenager. She inhaled the lasagna that Nigel cooked as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. The sad truth was, it was probably true. Jordan, Nigel, and Katie watched Disney movies for three hours, as if the cheery elephants and dwarves would somehow sooth Katie's hurt. And they did, for a time. Nigel and Jordan were just falling asleep when they heard a terrified scream. Nigel raced into the guest bedroom where Katie was sleeping.
"No! No no please! Don't! Not again!" the teenager was sobbing in her sleep.
Nigel gently took hold of her shoulders and shook her awake. Somewhat confused, Katie focused on him.
"You were having a nightmare." he said.
She stared at him unbelievingly for a moment, then burst into tears and launched herself into his arms.
"I asked him to stop! I begged him! He wouldn't stop! It hurt! Oh god it hurt so bad!" she sobbed, her small body shaking with her sobs.
Nigel frowned nervously, unsure of how to approach the situation.
"Do you want me to sleep on the floor in here? Make sure you're ok?" he suggested nervously.
Katie's tear filled eyes looked up at him.
"Can I come sleep in your room?" she asked softly. "I know you don't really know me, but I feel like… You're my guardian angel."
The dark haired Brit raised an eyebrow.
"Uh, sure. If you want to."
"Nige? Is she ok?" came Jordan's concerned voice.
"Yeah." he called back. "She's going to come sleep in our room."
Nigel smiled down at Katie.
"Alright love. Let's go to sleep, it's been a bad week."
She clutched at his hand, as if she were three, not eleven. Jordan was sitting up in bed.
"Hey kiddo. You ok?" she asked the thin girl.
Katie nodded. Nigel got back into bed next to Jordan. Katie stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do.
"Not that this isn't weird of anything," Jordan said, a smile in her voice. "you want to come sleep up here?"
"Yes, actually." Katie replied softly.
Nigel and Jordan moved apart so that Katie could settle down in between them. Strangely enough, it wasn't awkward. Katie burrowed under the blankets with her saviors by her side, feeling safe and loved for the first time in months.
"Sleep tight kiddo." Nigel murmured sleepily.
Katie smiled and snuggled into her pillow.
"G'night Nigel." Jordan said.
"Night." He replied.
Days passed like this. Nigel and Jordan took turns staying home with Katie. Helping her with the schoolwork they had gotten for her. Slowly, but ever so surely, Katie returned to being a normal teenaged girl. Eventually, as the weeks passed, Katie's nightmares became fewer and fewer. She was able to sleep alone. At the end of four weeks, child services came to speak with Katie.
"Katie, how do you like it here?" the plump middle-aged black woman asked.
"I love it here. Nigel and Jordan take care of me. They love me." Katie said simply, her hands folded demurely in her lap.
"I see." The woman scribbled something down on a clipboard.
"Look lady, did I do something wrong?" Katie asked, annoyed.
The Social Worker looked down her nose pityingly at Katie, as if she couldn't understand anything at all.
"No. You didn't. We've heard some… rumours… that Mr Townsend and his… significant other, have acted inappropriately with you. I heard something about you sharing their bed?" the black woman sneered.
"You perverted bitch!" Katie screamed. "How dare you treat my friends this way!"
Katie's face was red, her nostrils flared angrily and a vein stood out in her neck.
"Nigel saved me! He took me into his own home, because I was too afraid to go with a stranger! And this is how you treat him? You bitch! How dare you! You people think you always know what's best, well I'll tell you something you ignorant cunt. My mother married a 'very respectable man' after my father died. Perhaps you've heard of him? Judge Brandt? He lived the fucking American dream, and everyone loved him! He's the fucking ass hole who raped and sold me into slavery! My own stepfather! Nigel may not be the shining example of Americana, but he loves me and he takes care of me! Now can you get your fat head around that? Huh?"
The door burst open and Nigel and Jordan ran in.
"What's with all the screaming? Katie, love. Are you alright?" Nigel asked, concerned.
Katie leapt out of the chair and flew into his arms. Nigel wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, confused as to why she was so upset. Jordan frowned at the social worker.
"What did you do to her?" Jordan asked angrily, stroking Katie's curly hair. "She's a great kid, what the hell could you do to make her this upset?"
The social worker fidgeted in her seat, looking uncomfortable.
"I just asked her a few questions about life at your residence. I-I suppose I… inferred that she was not safe in your home. Perhaps it would be better for Kelly-"
"Katie. Her name is Katie." Nigel growled.
"Katie, was to enter into child protective services. We have a perfect family all lined up for her."
"I'm not going! I'm staying with Nigel!" Katie sobbed into the startled M.E.'s shirtfront..
"Oh, love. Everything'll be ok. I'll look out for you." Nigel comforted her, rubbing her bony back.
Jordan turned to the befuddled social worker.
"I think you'd better leave. What do we need to do to get adoption papers for her?"
"I-I-I." sputtered the fat woman flatulently.
There was silence in the room, nothing moved for a while except for Katie's heaving shoulders and Nigel's long fingered hand, stroking her back.
"Please leave." Nigel asked calmly.
The social worker gathered up her papers and rushed out of the apartment, leaving Nigel holding a troubled young teen.
"So, little bit. What do we do with you now?" he murmured, glancing over at Jordan.
Jordan shrugged, moving to her boyfriend's side and completing the circle.
Three weeks later, Nigel and Jordan sat with Katie in the courtroom, Katie's hearing about to begin.
"All rise, the Honourable Judge Brown presiding."
Everyone stood as the judge entered the stand from his office, situated behind the witness stand.
"Please be seated. Case # 149042, Townsend and Cavanaugh vs. Wilkes regarding the adoption of one Miss Kathryn G Wilkes."
Katie looked at Nigel fearfully; he squeezed her hand reassuringly and let her snuggle in between himself and Jordan.
"We would like to call Dr Nigel Townsend to the stand."
Nigel winked at the two females he was seated next. Jordan mouthed good luck to him as he made his way to the stand.
"Dr Townsend, you are, in fact, an immigrant to this country." stated the lawyer Katie's parents had hired.
"Yes sir. I am, I thought you could tell that by my accent?" he raised an eyebrow.
The lawyer blushed visibly.
"Dr Townsend, would it be safe to say that you are… an unusual person?"
"Yes. I pride myself on being 'unusual' as you put it. But if you're implying that I am in any way; a pedophile, you are greatly mistaken." Nigel replied evenly.
"I see. I see… Dr Townsend, please tell the court how you came to meet Miss Wilkes."
"Certainly. I am a Medical Examiner for the Boston PD, I was asked to help in an investigation involving a string of murder/rapes that were in some way tied to a child-brothel. I was allowed to go undercover to collect information regarding a Mr Blake Mueller. When I arrived at the brothel, I was presented with Katie. I suppose Mr Mueller thought it was, in some way, a gift."
Seeing that he wasn't shaking Nigel up in any way, the lawyer changed attacks.
"Dr Townsend, we have gotten reports from a very reliable social worker that Katie seemed to sustain some stress. She was under the impression that Katie was sharing your bed with yourself and your girlfriend, Miss Jordan Cavanaugh?"
"Yes, that's true. Katie had a nightmare. She needed someone to comfort her." His eyes flickered to Katie's face.
"Still here mate."
"Dr Townsend, have you ever been accused of an act against a child?"
"I see. Er, no further questions your Honour." the prosecuting lawyer walked back to the bench.
"The defense requires no questioning." Mrs Andrews, the lawyer Nigel had hired, said.
"You may go back to your seat Dr Townsend." The judge said.
"Thank you sir."
Nigel stood up and went back to the defense bench. Katie looked scared, as he sat down, she clutched onto his waist.
"Don't let them take me away Nigel. Please." she begged.
"Prosecution calls Dr Jordan Cavanaugh to the stand."
Jordan clicked up to the stand in her smart black high heels and sat in the witness chair, her long legs crossed.
And so began the hour long questioning of Jordan. Nigel was proud of her, no matte how graphic or cruel the prosecuting lawyer was; Jordan remained calm, cool, and collected. They finally let her leave and she came to sit back down next to Katie.
"Hey sweetie. Are you doing ok?" she asked the young girl.
"Yeah. I'm fine Jordan. Just a little nervous."
"Prosecution calls Miss Kathryn G Wilkes to the stand."
Katie flinched and looked to Nigel, her face pinched with fear.
"Go ahead. We're right here." Jordan said from behind her.
As she walked up to the stand, a hysterical voice screamed out from the Prosecuting bench.
"Kathryn! That's my baby! Oh baby come here!" a woman's voice screeched.
Katie looked around, startled. Her eyes came to rest on the woman who she no longer considered her mother. Katie's eyes hardened as she saw who was sitting next to her mother. Her stepfather stared at her warningly, as if daring her to speak against him. She took a deep breath and continued to the stand.
"Miss Wilkes, can you please tell us the events leading up to the time when you were… supposedly rescued from this alleged brothel?" the thin mustached lawyer asked.
She bit her lip and nodded nervously.
"I-It was two months ago. M-my stepfather, that man over there, had been living with us for a while. H-he approached me while my mother was at work." she inhaled sharply as the events of that horrible day bombarded her memory. "He raped me." she said, clutching her knees tightly.
The lawyer smirked at her.
"Are you sure that's what happened? Judge Brandt claims that it was you who initiated the sexual activity."
"The 'sexual activity', as you call it, sir, involved him tying me up and forcing himself on me. H-he kept telling me I liked it! Oh god!" she shuddered, tears filling her eyes.
The judge leaned over to her and spoke softly and comfortingly so that only she could hear.
"Are you alright my dear? Can you go on?" the grandfatherly judge asked, concerned.
Katie nodded and hiccupped.
"A-a-after he raped me, m-my mother came home. She yelled at me when she found out. T-then my stepfather called someone and the next thing I knew I was at the brothel. I-I was scared. My mother… someone gave her money. I don't know. Oh please, can I please go!" she cried.
"Not just yet." the lawyer said slyly. "Exactly what happened to you at this alleged brothel?"
Katie's eyes seemed to fill with fury.
"What happened to me? What happened to me! I'll tell you what happened to me sir! I was raped. Several times! They shoved a lamp inside me! You want to see! Just take a look at the rape kit!"
The lawyer reeled back from Katie's fury and shakily said:
"N-no further questions your honour."
"Mrs Andrews. Have you any questions for the witness?" the judge asked.
"I do, yes sir."
Mrs Andrew stood up and walked toward the bench. She gazed at Katie warmly.
"Katie, can you remember what happened when Nigel found you?"
"Nigel found me in the brothel. He asked me my name and age. I told him and he told me he would get me out of there. He did. I love Nigel. He saved me." she smiled at the couple sitting on the defense bench.
"Katie, can you tell us what really happened when you spent the night in Nigel's and Jordan's bed?" Mrs Andrews asked softly.
"I had had a nightmare. I-I don't remember what it was about… Nigel came in to wake me up and make sure I was all right. He offered to sleep on the floor in my room in case I needed him… I know it sounds silly, I'm eleven years old, but I needed a dad right then. Nigel was the closest thing I had… I used to sleep in my parents bed a long time ago before my dad died…" she trailed off. "Look, nothing happened. I just slept in bed with Nigel and Jordan. There was no nudity. Nothing like that. Not like that Michael Jackson case I've been hearing about. Nigel's not a pedophile. He'd never do anything to hurt me."
Mrs Andrews smiled.
"The defense rests."
Four hours later, the jury came back with a decision. Nigel, Jordan, and Katie all held hands as the bailiff brought the envelope to the judge. Judge Brown opened the envelope. A slight smile flickered on his face before he returned the envelope to the bailiff and the bailiff relayed it to the jury. The spokesperson for the jury stood and read the judgment out loud.
"In the Case of Townsend and Cavanaugh versus Wilkes, we find Mr and Mrs Wilkes guilty of child endangerment. Mr Wilkes will be tried on counts of rape, molestation, and child endangerment. The jury hereby places miss Kathryn Wilkes into the care of Mr Nigel Townsend."
A loud cheer went up from the room, Nigel and Jordan turned to hug Katie. Katie was crying happily and sobbing that she loved them both. Mrs Andrews smiled softly, patting Nigel on the shoulder as she left the courtroom. On the other side of the room, the Prosecution was looking sullen.
"Nigel?" Katie asked as they walked out of the courtroom three abreast.
"Does this mean we're a family now?"
"Yeah, I suppose it does." he gazed over at Jordan.
"Let's go for ice-cream to celebrate!" said Jordan.
"Ice-cream! It's frickin' ten degrees out here? Are you bloody insane!" Nigel exclaimed.
"You're right… Let's do something else."
Jordan and Katie both looked at each other and shouted out in unison:
"Let's go shopping!"
Nigel gave a pained expression, but hailed down a cab. As he slid in after Jordan and Katie, he looked at the two of them, planning excitedly what they were going to buy.
"My wallet hurts." He grumbled.
(Author's Note: I would just like to give a shout out to Abbey, the wonderful and talented author of "London After Midnight". A truly splendiferous fanfic worthy of much applause. I, after reading 'London After Midnight", was extremely impressed by the story and therefore was tempted to grab Abbey and give her a thorough snogging! I love you Abbey! Even though you don't know me!
I apologize to all for the appearance of the OC and I hope you were not too put off by Katie. I have portrayed Nigel as somewhat… fluffy and huggable, in this fic. If you like the other kind of Nigel, the broody, suicidal type, I suggest you go read my other N/J fic: "Never Drink Alone". Fear not dear readers! A completely outlandish and unbelievable plot twist is approaching!)
(AN2: The 'My wallet hurts', quip is something I find myself saying whenever I go shopping with my friend, Grace. Somehow she always manages to squeeze a few extra dollars outta me. But I love her anyway. It's those puppy dog eyes, I swear…)
(AN3: Dr Macy is a little OOC in this bit. I am also a Woody/Jordan hater, so Woody is going to be an extra big asshole in this bit. Just a little heads up.)
That night, Nigel held a funeral service for his poor murdered wallet. In truth it was an office party. Garret, Lily, Buggles, Woody, Nigel, and Jordan all met at a bar in downtown Boston. Katie was with Jordan and Nigel, sitting quietly and drinking a virgin margarita.
Garret, ever the paternal figure, was berating Nigel for encouraging Katie to drink.
"It's completely irresponsible Nigel! How can you let a eleven-year-old-"
"Garret! It's ok. It's just a virgin margarita!" Jordan exclaimed, throwing an arm around her boss's shoulder.
Garret gazed at the pair of them sternly for a moment, then relented.
"I'd prefer she were drinking a soda, but if it's non-alcoholic…" the severe head M.E. growled.
"Thank you." Jordan sighed.
"It's really quite yummy, Dr Macy." said Katie as she tapped the remaining frozen drink into her mouth and licked her lips.
"Yummy!" Garret said, eyebrows knitted and his eyes looking ready to pop out of his head.
"Yes. Yummy!" Katie said perkily.
Garret shook his head and returned to his beer. Bug raised and eyebrow at Nigel.
"And another thing!" the half drunk M.E. said, turning back to Nigel and Jordan. "What kind of example are you setting for young Katie here? Two unmarried people living together, with a child! It's downright disgraceful!" Garret said loudly.
"Garret, I think you're a little drunk." Lily said, placing a calming hand on her boss's arm.
Garret looked at her blearily.
"Am I?" he tried to stand up and nearly fell over. "So I am! LILY!"
"Take me home! I don't think I'm fit to drive!"
He stood up and stumbled out of the bar, leaning heavily on Lily and leaving the rest to pick up the tab.
Laughing at their boss's antics, the remaining crew turned back to their drinks.
"He's right you know." Woody said as he finished off his fourth light Budweiser.
Their laughter halted immediately. Nigel turned in his seat to glare at his rival.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jordan asked coolly.
Woody shrugged and motioned for the bartender to give him another beer.
"Oh nothing." he took a swig. "I just think it's a little… strange to have a eleven year old girl staying with a freak and the freak's girlfriend."
Nigel stood up, anger radiating him about him.
"I'm just saying it would probably be better for Katie's sake for her to be in a foster home, rather than living with some whore and a stalker." the cop said, taking another mouthful of beer.
Nigel lunged at him, grabbing the police officer by the collar.
"Don't you dare talk about Jordan like that! You can call me all the fucking names you want! Just don't fucking insult Jordan!" hissed Nigel through clenched teeth.
Woody leered at him, malice glittering in his blue eyes.
"You know what they say about rape victims? They're always asking for it! Maybe innocent Miss Katie here liked what she got!"
That did it, Nigel slammed one bony fist into Woody's jaw. Blood and a tooth came flying out of the police officer's mouth. Nigel let him fall to the floor, his whole body shaking with rage.
"Don't ever talk about Katie or Jordan like that ever again. I'll make you wish you were never born!" Nigel yelled. "Katie, Jordan, come one, let's go. Before I do something I'll regret later."
Nigel stormed out, throwing two twenties on the bar and muttering goodbye to a startled Bug.
On the drive home, all was silent. As Nigel drove, he was aware of Jordan glancing over at him warily.
"Nigel? Sweetie are you ok?" Jordan asked timidly.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't stand him." Nigel said tiredly.
There was silence for the rest of the drive. When they finally pulled into the parking lot of Nigel's apartment building, Katie was fast asleep.
"Katie, Katie wake up honey." Jordan said softly, shaking her by the shoulder gently.
Katie mumbled and swatted Jordan's hand away.
"It's ok, I'll carry her inside." Nigel whispered.
Jordan raised an eyebrow.
"Alright. Don't overdo it." she warned.
He smiled at her and lifted Katie out of the car, as if she weighed no more than a baby.
"Let's go home." Jordan yawned, cracking her sore neck and stretching.
Nigel nodded and the three went inside. Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched. Across the street, hidden in the bushes, sat Tony Gardener, Blake Mueller's right hand man. He was outfitted with night-vision goggles and a camera. When Nigel was out of sight, he dialed a number into his cell phone and spoke very softly when a voice came on the other line.
"Mr Mueller, I've found the leak. It's Mr Black. What do you want me to do? Yes? OK. Affirmative. Yes sir." he hung up the phone and gazed at the apartment building.
Nigel Townsend had been sentenced to death
Jordan woke up very early, the sun was just beginning to peek in through the curtains in Nigel's flat. She yawned widely and turned to her boyfriend, who was still asleep.
She smiled at her boyfriend, sprawled out over most of the bed. She kissed his forehead and got up to check on Katie. She knocked on the teenager's door.
"Come in." came Katie's soft reply.
Jordan pushed open the door and walked in. Katie was sitting on her bed in her borrowed pyjamas: One of Nigel's old Union Jack t-shirts and a pair of Jordan's running shorts.
"Hey kiddo. How are you?" Jordan asked, sitting down next to the young woman.
Katie looked up at her.
"I'm ok. How's Nigel? He seemed pretty upset last night…"
Jordan grinned at her surrogate daughter.
"Nigel's ok. He just gets a little hot under the collar when his family is insulted."
"I thought he and Detective Hoyt were going to get into it right there." Katie exclaimed.
The tall brunette slipped an arm around the teenager.
"Do you think there's anyway I can… get out of the city for a little bit. You know? Get away from everything?" she looked up at Jordan's confused expression. "It's not that I haven't been treated well here-"
"Sweetie, I completely understand. Sure you can get away. I have an aunt who lives on a farm in California. Is that far enough away from the city for ya?" she said with a grin.
Katie leaned into Jordan.
"I'd love that. When do you think I can go?" she asked.
"I'll call her as soon as Nigel wakes up."
"Call who as soon as Nigel wakes up?" came a sleepy voice from the doorway.
They both looked up guiltily. Nigel was standing in the doorway, naked except for an old pair of scrub pants. His hair was mussed and he looked very much like a little boy who has just been awoken from his nap.
"Nigel!" Jordan said, jumping up. "Katie has something she wants to ask you!"
Katie shot her a look of death.
"Uhm yeah… Jordan and I were just discussing… Well you see the thing is… I'dliketogetoutofthecityforawhile." she said in all one breath.
Nigel frowned for a moment, trying to decipher what it was she had just said.
"I'm going to send her to stay with Aunt Rose for a few weeks." Jordan said, placing a hand on Katie's shoulder. "Is that alright?"
He frowned again.
"Of course it's alright. Whatever you want, love. All you have to do is ask." Nigel gave her a grin and held out his hand. "But first let's get you some brekky, huh?"
The three went off to eat breakfast, blissfully ignorant that they were setting in motion the events that would lead to near disaster.
Blake Mueller sat in his darkened office on the thirty-second floor, smoking a foul smelling cheap cigar. He contemplated the news that his newest 'customer' was, in fact, a spy. The obese man enjoyed the thought that "Mr Black" would suffer greatly for his testimony in the case of Katie. Yes, Mr Black would die. And soon.
"Gardener!" he shouted.
The little man scuttled in like the insect he was.
"Yessir. What do you need?"
"Have the men ready when Mr Black arrives. I wouldn't want him getting away, now."
"Yessir. Of course sir."
Gardener scuttled away. Mueller blew another smoke ring and smiled. Mr Black's death would be sensational!
Outside the door, Mueller was unaware that there was another spy in his midst.
Detective Woody Hoyt closed his phone, ending the call with his first inside-man in the child brothel. They had been found out. If Nigel ever returned to the brothel, he would surely be killed on the spot. He sighed. He'd have to tell Nigel. Or would he…
Nigel and Jordan stood at gate 43 in thee airport, both watching anxiously as Katie boarded the plane.
"Bye sweetie! Call us when you get there!" Jordan called, waving to the girl who was rapidly inhabiting a large part of her heart.
"Don't talk to anybody you don't know! And don't take anything from strangers! Call us if you need any money or any-"
"Nigel calm down." Jordan hissed, nudging the Brit in the ribs with her elbow.
"Bye Mom! Bye Dad! See you in a few weeks!" the beautiful little blonde girl called back.
She boarded the plane and disappeared from view. Nigel and Jordan watched the plane taxi out onto the runway and ran to the window to see it take off. When the plane was out of sight, Nigel let out a huge shuddering sigh.
"Are you sure about this, love?" he asked nervously.
"Bit late now Nige."
Nigel raised and eyebrow at her and crossed his arms.
"Alright Papa. She'll be alright." she giggled and hugged him around the middle. "Let's go home. Traffic'll be murder if we hang around much longer."
It was two days later, Nigel and Jordan were sitting in a gazebo in the middle of the park. The weather was icy, but they didn't mind. The sat, huddled together on the swinging bench and laughing at one another's jokes. For a while they were silent, enjoying each other's presence. Nigel shifted, withdrawing something from his pocket. He leaned down and took Jordan's ungloved hand in his own.
"Jordan?" he asked softly.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you."
"Hmmm...?" Jordan replied sleepily.
"I…I was wondering…"
"I was wondering if you might… consent to marry me?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat.
Jordan started and turned to face her boyfriend.
He once again took her hand and placed something cold and round into her fist.
Jordan opened her fist and found herself looking at a thin, beautifully crafted silver Claddagh ring.
"Oh Nige…" she breathed.
"Oh Nige what?" he asked anxiously, his brow knotted.
"Oh Nige WHAT?"
"Yes! Yes yes yes!" she cried, tackling him and kissing him soundly.
He let out an excited squeak and succumbed to her enthusiasm.
The two returned to work the following day. Nigel with a bounce in his step, Jordan with a permanent grin. She waved her ring around the office, something she had promised herself, when she was nineteen, she would never do. She was rarely seen not smiling. Lily begged to be a bridesmaid and Jordan begged Bug to be Nigel's best man. Nigel had hoped it was going to be a small wedding, but if Jordan wanted twenty-one bleedin' trombones to announce she was getting married, by god she was going to get it!. He was going to spend the rest of his life with the one person he loved most in the world, if she wanted a white-cupcake wedding, she would have it.
Nigel smiled as he looked through the door to the crypt and saw Jordan pleading with Dr Macy to give her away. He argued with her.
"Why me? Why not your father? It should be your father!" Garret yelled, throwing up his hands in exasperation.
"Can't you both take me down the aisle? Come on, pleeeeease!" she begged, tugging on his arm like a little kid begging for candy.
He sighed and nodded in supplication.
"If it means that much to you I'll do it. But you owe me!" he growled.
Jordan flashed him a wide smile and hugged him fiercely.
"Thanks Garret!" she yelled as she ran off to find Nigel.
Woody was watching her too. His eyes narrowed as Jordan skipped about like a little girl, her enthusiasm catching the attentions of everyone. Nigel came out of the morgue with his head buried in a report. Jordan spotted him and snuck up behind her fiancé, leaping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Hi." she purred, rubbing her face against Nigel's.
"Hello, love." he replied, nonplussed by the guerilla attack.
"Reports. Shouldn't you be working?" he asked sternly.
"Yes." she replied nonchalantly.
"Then shouldn't you be in your office?"
"Probably." she said perkily.
"I'm taking you to your office now. And you will be working, then I will take you home later and give you a thorough snogging. How's that sound to you?" he grinned puckishly and reached around to squeeze her butt.
She squeaked and tightened her legs around Nigel's waist. He let out an 'oof' as she attempted to squeeze the life out of him. To complete her revenge, she leaned over and blew a huge wet raspberry on his cheek. Nigel grimaced disgustedly.
"I've always hated those." he grumbled and let Jordan climb off his back.
She swung an arm around his neck and leaned into him.
"Alright you bum limey. I'll go back to work, but you owe me big time when we get home!" she pouted, sticking out her lower lip.
Jordan turned to stalk off, realizing her mistake a second later when Nigel reached over and pinched her butt. She squealed and ran off, shouting curses at him over her shoulders. Nigel laughed, enjoying their little exchange immensely.
"Hey Nige." came a voice from behind him.
Nigel turned around to find Woody Hoyt leaning against the doorframe of the autopsy room.
"Woodrow." Nigel nodded politely.
The tall Brit started to move past Woody, but the cop put out a hand to stop him.
"Was there something you wanted?" Nigel asked quietly.
"Actually yes. We were hoping you would be up to another information retrieval operation into Mr Mueller's establishment." Woody said, laying it on thick. "We have reason to believe he's begun recruiting girls even younger than Karen."
"Katy." Nigel corrected. "Of course I'll help. I'll just tell Jordan where I'm going-"
"No! Don't do that. You'll just upset her! You have to go without anyone knowing." Woody said hurriedly. "Ill tell her where you are a little after you leave, so she can't follow you."
Nigel frowned at the shorter man.
"Uhm. Alright then…"
"Good," Woody said, nodding. "I think it's safer for you to be armed this time around, so I'll get you a gun."
Nigel followed Woody down the hall and into the elevator. They got out on the floor the PD was located on and Woody wasted no time in shoving a gun into Nigel's hand and hastily hooking the taller man up with a listening device. A mere ten minutes later, Woody was watching Nigel pull out of the car park, on his way to certain death. The minute Nigel's truck was out of sight, Woody flipped open his phone and dialed a familiar number.
"Gardener. Yeah it's me. Townsend's on his way. What? Yeah, ok. Give him a nice goodbye for me, huh?" Woody chuckled. "When am I going to get my money? Uhuh. Thanks buddy. Yeah, ok. Later."
Woody hung up his phone, turning to go back into the Boston PD government building, a large smile on his face. Jordan was now free to be his. He had made sure of it!
Nigel pulled into the abandoned lot in front of the brothel. He frowned, the brothel was dark, no lights whatsoever. He got out of his car, hand tightening on the gun in his pocket. Nigel cautiously pushed open the door to the building and stepped inside.
"Hello?" he called.
"Mr Black. Or should I say 'Mr Townsend'. How lovely to see you tonight." a calm voice spoke from directly in front of him.
The lights flicked on, momentarily blinding the M.E. and forcing his to squint at the short squat figure in front of him.
"Mr Mueller." Nigel replied coolly.
The crime lord motioned to someone behind Nigel, that person kicked out and caught Nigel behind the knees, forcing him onto his knees. The frantic M.E. fumbled for the gun and tried desperately to compose himself.
"What?" Mueller scoffed. "You gonna shoot me? Ha! You couldn't shoot me if you tried! You fucking pussy! You're too weak!"
Nigel's finger tightened on the trigger, the barrel exactly lined up with Mueller's forehead. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The gun went off and Mueller jerked back, blood trickling from the wound in his forehead. Very suddenly, everything went crazy. Mueller's goons began yelling and racing around like scared ants, their leader having been decimated. A fist connected with Nigel's jaw, making stars appear in his vision. Gardener whistled loudly to calm everyone down. He held his hands up, addressing the hired guns.
"Alright boys. The boss is dead, that doesn't mean we abandon our plans. We're going ahead with what the boss wanted. Tie him up, for one. Then…" he trailed off, glaring at Nigel menacingly. "Why don't you guys rile him up a bit. That damn British accent has been getting on my nerves."
The more muscular of the two goons grabbed Nigel in his vice-like grip and held Nigel's arms behind his back. The second goon's fist connected with Nigel's stomach, forcing all the air out of his lungs. A fist connected with his nose and the man holding him up dropped him. The last thing he saw before he was knocked unconscious was Gardener's leering face.
Jordan… he thought. Forgive me…
Then, all went black.
Jordan walked outside into the bitterly cold Boston winter, clutching her parka around her tightly. The future Mrs Townsend flipped open her phone to call Garret and tell him she wasn't coming in. The message displayed on the screen showed the 'New picture' theme. She clicked on it, wondering who and what she had been sent. It took a few seconds for the picture to load, but when it did load, she let an earth-shattering scream. The picture was of Nigel, but not under any circumstances she would have liked to see him in. Nigel was bound and gagged on the concrete floor of what she supposed was a warehouse. His mouth was covered with duct tape, preventing him from crying for help, his wrists and ankles were bound with rope, preventing him from escaping. What scared her most of all was the blood on and around him. There was a large gash in his forehead that bled profusely.
"Oh my god. Nigel!" she whispered fearfully.
With shaking hands, she clicked on the sender button. The sender was a familiar number, Nigel's cell. The message that had been sent was one she'd never thought she'd see.
If you ever want to see your boyfriend alive, you bring me $25,000 to warehouse three at the wharf by six o'clock this evening. If you don't do this, he dies. If you call the cops, he dies. If you make me angry, he dies. Remember, we are watching.
Jordan closed her phone shakily and got back in her car. She called up her father and explained the situation as calmly as she could.
"Jordan? Honey what's wrong?" Max asked her concernedly.
"Oh dad, I'm in trouble. It's Nigel, he's been kidnapped!" she sobbed, trying to concentrate on driving.
"Sweetie are you sure? It might just be a joke-"
"Nigel doesn't joke like that. Oh dad I'm so scared. They want twenty-five grand, I don't have the money. Oh what am I going to do!" she moaned.
"Calm down, come to the bar, we'll talk. I'll loan you the money if you need it."
Jordan's only reply was her sobs.
"It'll be alright. I won't let them kill him." Max promised.
Jordan thank him and said goodbye, needing to concentrate on the road. Tears blurred her vision and she nearly crashed into a little Miata that was stopped at a red light. She wanted to scream and rail but held her composure as the owner of the little car leaned out his window to scream at her.
She pulled into her father's bar's parking lot, not bothering to lock her car as she raced inside to see her father.
"Oh god daddy. This can't be happening to me. This isn't fair!" she sobbed as she immediately fell into his outstretched arms.
"Shhh. Shhh… It'll be alright. What deadline did they give you?"
He looked at his watch.
"We'd better hurry up then. Come into my office." He took her hand and led her into the lofty cigar smelling office that belonged to him.
"I'm sorry about this dad. I'm so so sorry." She apologized.
"Don't worry about it. Here, the money's in the safe."
She could see him fiddling with the lock for a few seconds before the heavy steel door popped open with a clang. Her father pulled out the desired amount and placed it in a plain paper bag.
"Put it in your purse." he ordered.
Jordan nodded and started out the door. She stopped.
"Thank you daddy. I know this is a lot of money for you to just give away. I'll pay you back, somehow." she whispered.
He merely nodded and gave her a wry smile.
"Go get that British rascal of yours." he grinned.
She smiled and nearly ran out the door. She got into her car and started the engine, revving it impatiently.
"I'm coming Nigel." she prayed. "Please don't die."
Jordan must have broken all the speed laws in the book as her car whizzed down surface streets on her way to the wharf. She had always hated the wharf, it smelled of death. As she drove she looked for her desired number. Warehouse ten, ware house eight, warehouse six, warehouse four. Finally she spotted the peeling blue number '3'. She parked her car and turned off the ignition.
"Hello?" she called.
No answer. Jordan reached into her glove box and searched for the gun she had stashed there. Silently, she slipped the revolver into her coat pocket, knowing there was a possibility she might use it.
"Hello!" she called again as she walked inside the huge empty building.
There was a solitary figure standing near the center of the warehouse. He was leaning on a chair nonchalantly, his face covered by a bunny mask.
"Wh-where's my boyfriend?" she said boldly.
"Where's my money." the kidnapper asked, his voice muffled by the mask.
She held out the paper bag, the man reached for it but she pulled it back.
"Where's Nigel?" she asked, feeling a little more sure of herself.
"Don't make me angry." he warned.
"Where the fuck is my boyfriend you asshole!" she screamed angrily.
"He's in the parking lot at your work. In a trunk."
He grabbed the paper bag from her hands.
"WHERE IS HE!" she yelled.
"Like I said, bitch, he's in a trunk. Now it's up to you to figure out which trunk."
The man turned and ran. Jordan swore furiously to herself, running in the opposite direction to her car, fumbling with the keys in the ignition. For the third time that day she tore down Mainstreet, a woman with a mission. She pulled into the parking lot and leapt out of the car, frantic to have Nigel safe in her arms again.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled his name.
Jordan frantically searched the parking lot for any sign of Nigel. This can't be happening! We just found each other! They can't take him away now! Hot tears seared her cheeks as the icy wind blew in her face.
"NIGEL!" she screamed, cupping her hands around her mouth so that she could be heard further away. "WHERE ARE YOU?"
She held her breath for a moment, listening carefully. The kidnappers had said he would be in a car. But which one?
"NIGEL!" she shouted again.
This time she heard a faint noise. Like something weakly banging against metal.
"Nige?" she whispered, barely trusting her own ears. "Nigel? Where are you? I can hear you!"
There was a loud "thunk" and she saw the metal of a trunk lid vibrating, as if having just been struck, two rows over. She hurried over to the car, realizing that she had no way of opening it. Experimentally, she tried the latch. It was locked, of course.
"Nigel? Are you in there?" she called.
She was rewarded with a steady "thump".
"I'm going to get a crowbar from my car! I'll be right back."
She raced off to her car, fumbling with the keys and finally grabbing the iron crowbar from the emergency kit. She also grabbed a blanket, fearing hypothermia. Jordan stumbled back to the car her boyfriend was locked in, jamming the crowbar under the lock. With a strength born of desperation, she broke the lock and lifted the trunk lid open.
"Oh God! Nigel!" she sobbed.
The temperature was well below freezing, and Nigel was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. His lips were blue and his hands were bound tightly together. Fearfully, Jordan touched his face, his skin was icy to the touch.
"Nigel, please… no…" she prayed.
Tired, confused eyes cracked open.
"J-Jordan… That you? They told me you were d-dead." he shivered violently.
"Come on. Let's get you out of there. Can you move?"
He struggled for a moment, trying to right himself. Jordan took his arm and helped him climb shakily out of the trunk. She wrapped the blanket around him.
"Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital." she said firmly, wrapping her arms around him.
He nodded, unsteadily following her to her car. Jordan sat him down in the passenger seat, taking a Swiss Army knife from the glove compartment. Carefully, she sliced through the rope that bound Nigel's wrists together. She pulled the ropes away gingerly, revealing ugly, deep rope cuts; which oozed blood and pus. Jordan kissed his fingertips lovingly, wishing she could erase all his pain. The M.E. took off her jacket and draped it over his legs.
"C-c-cold." he muttered.
"I know sweetie. Hang on." she kissed his forehead and closed the car door, rushing over to the driver's side.
As she started the car, she dialed the hospital on her cell phone.
"Hello? My name is Jordan Cavanaugh, I work for Boston PD. I have an adult male, suffering from hypothermia, I'm bringing him in now. Ok. ETA is approx. five minutes. Thank you." she hung up the phone, looking over at her lover, only to see he had passed out cold. "No, Nigel, wake up honey! You can't sleep. You've got to stay conscious. Come on baby." she begged, reaching over and squeezing his icy hand.
He mumbled something incoherent, eyes half closed as he tried to focus on her.
"Stay with me sweetheart, I need you."
Jordan made it to the hospital in record time, screeching to a halt in the emergency vehicles lane, without thinking, she handed the keys to a startled young EMT and rushed to get Nigel out of the car.
"I need some help here!" she yelled, trying to hoist the tall Brit up.
Nigel regained a little consciousness, wincing as Jordan screamed for help.
"Easy love. Easy…" he murmured, trying desperately not to fall over as he raised himself to his feet unsteadily.
Together, they made their way into the hospital, Nigel narrowly missing being run down by a gurney. Nigel swayed precariously as Jordan led him to a chair. She walked up to the receptionist and pounded her fist on the counter.
"Hi." she growled when the secretary looked up and gave her an annoyed look. "I'm Jordan Cavanaugh. I called about five minutes ago? My boyfriend is dying of hypothermia. Now get your fat ass off that chair and get a fucking doctor!" she yelled.
The overweight woman raised a painted on eyebrow, but flagged down a nurse anyway.
"Nurse Simmons will help you." The secretary said snootily, glancing over at the man shivering under the blanket. "Nurse Simmons?"
The distracted blond haired Nurse focused on Jordan.
"Oh hello Miss Cavanaugh. You don't remember me, but you questioned me on a case last year. What seems to be the problem." she asked kindly, trying to calm the distraught woman down.
Jordan motioned wordlessly at Nigel.
"Oh dear. What happened to him?" the petit nurse asked worriedly, hurrying over to the semi-conscious M.E.
She placed a hand against Nigel's forehead.
"S-some one kidnapped him. H-he's been locked in a trunk and I don't know for how long." the brunette half sobbed. "Please, can you help him?"
Nurse Simmons looked at her pityingly.
"I'm afraid we're understaffed at the moment. I'd like to help you, but there's a wait."
Jordan stared at her in shock.
"You've got to be joking."
"I'm afraid not. Have you got access to a bathtub or shower?" the slender woman asked.
Confused, Jordan nodded.
"Well, I may not be able to help you directly, but I suggest you take him home and warm him up. Keep up his fluids, make him drink water. Other than that I don't know what else to tell you."
"Thank you Nurse. I appreciate it. Come on Nigel." she said stiffly.
She looked back at the Nurse as she helped Nigel stumble back out of the hospital and into her car.
Having broken several traffic laws and nearly killing a pedestrian, Jordan Cavanaugh arrived at her apartment. She led a thoroughly exhausted and befuddled Nigel into her house, laying him down on the couch and rushing into the bathroom and running a hot bath.
"Come on Nige. Bath time." She teased lightly, sliding her hands under his arms and hoisting him up. He was surprisingly light for such a tall man, but she needed to get him in and out of that bath ASAP, before he drowned himself.
Ten minutes later, Jordan was sitting in the tub, Nigel's barely conscious body cradled in her lap. His back was against her chest, her chin resting on his shoulder, and he arms wrapped around his wiry form. She felt him move and he moaned, as if in pain.
"Jordan…" he whispered, shivering as her hand lightly traced it's way over his chest.
"What's the matter honey?"
She smoothed back his hair, cupping his chin in her hand.
"I love you…"
"I love you too. Now just relax, I'm going to take care of you."
Jordan felt, rather than saw, him smile. His body temperature was warming up, and she could feel Nigel returning to her. The water slowly cooled and Nigel became more and more conscious of his surroundings. Eventually, Jordan climbed out of the tub and Nigel was able to get himself out without assistance. She wrapped him in a towel, kissing his cheek softly.
"Let's go to bed, yeah?" she suggested. He nodded, shuffling out of the bathroom and into the bedroom they now shared.
Jordan dried her hair off, turbaning the towel around her head and putting on a terry cloth robe. She went into the bedroom to see that Nigel still hadn't gotten dressed. In fact, he was sitting stock-still with his head in one hand.
"Nige? What's wrong baby?" she asked softly, sitting down next to him and stroking his long jet-black hair.
"Migraine. No worries, love."
"Of course I'm going to worry. I'll go get you something to sleep in."
She rummaged in the drawers for a second and pulled out a pair of loose drawstring pyjama pants and a clean Sid Vicious t-shirt. Jordan helped him get dressed, then bundled him off to bed with a heating pad. The beautiful brunette ME stooped to get a set of clean pyjamas for herself out of the bottom drawer.
"Now that's a lovely sight…" Nigel murmured from his place, prone on the bed.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and peered back at him.
"Pervy limey." She hissed.
"You know it." he laughed softly.
She slid into her red silk pyjamas and got into bed with Nigel. Jordan curled her small body alongside him, leaning her forehead against his.
"'Allo love." he murmured sleepily.
"Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?" she whispered, stroking his cheek.
"Better, now that you're here."
"Don't you ever do that to me again." she scolded. "I thought you were dead."
"Pinky promise." he promised sleepily.
She sniggled close to him, sliding her legs between his and wrapping her arms around his thin chest. Jordan leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Love you." she whispered.
"Love you more. Go to sleep Jordan."
She sighed, closing her eyes and holding tight to Nigel, glad to have him safe at home in her bed.
The following morning, Jordan awoke to sneezing.
"Nige? Are you alright?" she asked, sitting up and pressing a hand to his forehead.
"Yes. I'm ok." Before he could even finish his sentence, he was rudely interrupted by what Jordan could only describe as an un-sneeze, the power of which knocked Nigel backwards into the pillows.
"I fink I hab a cold." he stated stuffily.
"I think so too. You're lucky that's all you have."
He sneezed again.
"How's Katie?" he asked.
"She's ok. She says Aunt Rose is treating her well. I talked to her over the phone. She seemed happy."
"That's good." he replied tiredly.
"Nige? Are you sure you're ok?" she asked worriedly. "Did they do anything else to you..?"
He struggled to sit up.
"Jordan, I'm alright." he assured her. "Let's go have a shower, ok?"
Jordan looked at him appraisingly, but she finally gave in and followed him into the bathroom. She took pleasure in undressing for him, sliding the nightshirt off over her head and pressing her nude body against his, enjoying his body's response. They got into the shower together and less than five minutes later, Nigel was making love to her against the shower wall, water pouring over them both. It was the kind of sex that people have to make sure that they're really alive. To let their partner know they're alive.
Jordan's legs were wrapped tightly around her fiancées waist, arms twined around his shoulders and her teeth gritted against the sensations he incited in her. They came together, tears in Jordan's eyes at how close Nigel had come to death. How close she had come to losing the one person in the world she loved more than her father. She cried into his shoulder for a long time as the hot water from the showerhead washed away sweat, cum, and tears.
"Never ever leave me again Nigel Townsend." she growled possessively, hugging him tightly.
"Never, love. Never again." he replied, just as fiercely, kissing her soundly.
They remained together in the shower for a very long time, until the water began to get cold and they realized how much time had actually passed. Grudgingly, the couple got out of the shower and dried off, returning to the bedroom hand-in-hand.
Nigel looked across the table at his fiancée, she was so lovely. He couldn't wait to tell the whole world he was going to spend to the rest of his life with Jordan Cavanaugh. She was smart, intelligent, funny, beautiful… She put up with his conspiracy theories and rock n' roll music, he accepted her fiery temper and Irish penchant for beer, though to tell the truth he rather enjoyed partaking of the Friday night ritual of getting well and truly shipped on O'Doul's lager. He was willing to lay down his life for her, give her everything he had, let her do whatever she wanted. Well everything, except this.
"I'm not wearing a powder blue tux Jordan, love. Sorry." he said tersely. "I love you and I'll do anything for you, but I won't do that." he shuddered.
"Niiige! Pleeeease!" she begged, pushing the picture of the tux in front of him. "You'd look so handsome in it! Come on Nigel!"
He scowled at her, flipping through the catalog and looking at the numerous pictures displaying happy couples that most certainly were never actually getting married.
"Fine, but only if you wear this." he said, pushing the catalog back to her and tapping a picture of a woman in a wedding dress.
"No way!" she shrieked, balking at the idea of wearing the monstrosity that Nigel had suggested.
The dress in question was a stark white gown with a plunging neckline. Plunging Neckline was rather a stretch. The neckline, if you could call it that, ended just below the belly button. The sleeves were large and puffy, made of light pink crepe with little pink rhinestones on them.
"Nigel how can you even think of suggesting something like that?" she exclaimed wildly.
Nigel grinned triumphantly.
"Now you know how I feel." he said with an amused smirk.
"Whoever designed that dress should be shot." she said shuddering disgustedly.
Nigel pulled the magazine back and flicked through the pages.
"Jordan, love. I understand if you want a big wedding-"
"What? I don't want a big wedding. I was thinking about a small wedding. I most certainly don't want a big white Irish wedding!" she protested.
"Right then. Shall we elope?" Nigel said, knowing full well what her answer would be.
"No! We're going to have a nice, intimate ceremony with some of our friends and family. Then you and I are off to Hawaii!" she said, giving her chest a little shake.
"Alright. I'll leave the planning up to you then, love. God knows if I suggest anything, it'll be turned down in an instant. Just don't put me in that god awful blue suit." He warned.
"Oh well. You would have looked cute in it." she frowned as she looked at the picture of the suit again. "It wouldn't have worked out anyway. They don't have any in your size. Bloody tall limey."
Nigel sniffed, insulted.
"Being tall does come with it's advantages, doesn't it Jordan?" he grinned evilly.
"Yes Nigel, it does. But I'm afraid what your referring to is what comes of having big feet, and you have decidedly small feet for someone of your stature." she shot back.
"I dunno," Nigel said, giving Jordan a raunchy smile. "Last night you seemed to think my… feet, were more than big enough." he waggled an eyebrow at her.
Jordan blushed crimson, and reached over to swat her fiancée on the head with her menu.
"Quiet you! This is a fancy restaurant, don't go getting us kicked out." she hissed, kicking him under the table.
"Hey! Whoa there, love! Watch the goods!" he exclaimed.
An evil grin crossed Jordan's face, she slipped off her sandals and moved her feet into Nigel's lap. She began stroking. A panicked looked appeared on Nigel's face and he opened his mouth to protest. The only sound that emerged was a strangled cry. Jordan sped up, then noticed that there was a waiter walking toward their table.
"Monsieur, Madame. Have you decided?" the waiter asked.
"Yes!" Nigel squeaked.
"Monsieur, are you alright?" the waiter asked, concerned.
Sweat poured down Nigel's face and his hands were clenched tightly on the arms of the chair. His face was going red with the effort of not blowing a load in his shorts. He shot Jordan a furious glare.
"Yes, I'm fine!"
Jordan stuck her tongue out and used her toes to unzip Nigel's pants. Her other foot slid across his boxers. Nigel bolted upright suddenly, a menu held strategically over his lap.
"Ya know what! I think I forgot to go wash my hands! I'll be back. Jordan, order for me will you, love!" Nigel said over his shoulder as he ran off to the bathroom.
The young waiter looked confused, his mouth hanging open slightly and one finger pointed in the air.
Jordan burst into a fit of laughter as Nigel raced to the lavatory, obviously for a clean up job. The brunette woman doubled over as her fiancée pirouetted in the doorway to the gentlemen's room, trying to avoid a man coming out of the restroom.
"Miss?" the waiter asked, at a loss for what to do.
Jordan waved him away, getting up and rummaging in her purse for her checkbook.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked through her laughter.
The waiter gave her a sum and Jordan wrote out a check without even blinking. Nigel was just coming out of the bathroom, his coat tied tactically over his groin. He shot Jordan a furious glare and headed for the exit.
They met outside in the cold winter air, Jordan still giggling softly. She went up to Nigel and hugged him.
"That was bloody unfair, that was." he grumbled poutily.
Jordan snuggled into his chest.
"I'm really very sorry Nigel. That was terribly cruel of me to do."
"And in the middle of the restaurant too! What got into you woman!" he exclaimed.
She reached down to cup him again.
"None of that now!" he warned.
"I'll make it up to you. I promise." she purred.
Hours later, Jordan and Nigel lay together, completely exhausted after an episode of marathon sex. After a long comfortable silence, Jordan finally spoke up.
"You still want to marry me, right?" she said seriously.
He shifted to look at her.
"Of course I do, love. Why? Are you having second thoughts?" he replied.
"No! I still want to get married! That's not it at all…"
"I'm ready whenever you're ready." he murmured in her ear.
"It's just that I know we're going to have to buy a house and become normal, van driving, soccer parents." she grumbled.
"Who says?" Nigel replied, sitting up and taking naked Jordan with him.
"Bollocks to nature. Football equipment fits just as well on the back of a motorcycle as it does in a van. Besides, we'll be cool parents. Hell, Katy'll make all the other kids jealous! She's got a stunningly gorgey mom, a fantastic Dad, and who knows; maybe she won't be an only child for long! How many eleven year olds do you know who are going to get transported place to place via a motorbike? There's no way in hell we're becoming victims to suburbia, love! Trust me!" Nigel exclaimed, hugging her tight.
"I promise, as long as you want to be, we'll be the weirdest family ever!"
Jordan smiled, snuggling into her fiancée's arms and wrapping her arms around his thin chest.
"Let's get married as soon as Katy gets home." she mumbled into his shoulder.
"Cool beans, love. Now, shall we snog, or shall we just go back to sleep?" he asked.
"Sleep, please. If you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all. I'm completely knackered, thanks to you."
"I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for a week!" she quipped.
"Thank you, thank you very much!" he said confidently.
About two weeks later, Jordan and Nigel found themselves back at the airport. Nigel was shifted nervously from foot to foot, a large teddy bear clutched in his hands. Jordan was watching him, amused.
"She's only been gone a month, Nigel. She'll hardly have changed." Jordan laughed. "Look, the gates just opened. She'll be here in a moment."
"Bugger all…" Nigel mumbled.
A veritable mass thronged the small reception area. Jordan and Nigel searched the crowd for their little girl. Families all around them hugged and kissed happily at their reunions. It was Katy who eventually found them, not the other way round. The month spent on a farm had benefited her greatly. She was nearly unrecognizable as the tiny emaciated creature that had departed from the very same airport.
"Mum! Daddy!" she cried, dropping her backpack and flinging herself into their arms.
The preteen who was hugging Nigel tightly bore next to no resemblance to the Katy that had left a month previous. Her skin was sun-kissed and her hair was bleached blonde. Everything about her seemed to sparkle, her eyes, her teeth, even her nails shone.
"Wow Katy! You look-" Nigel started.
"Great! I know!" she finished. "Aunt Rose kept sending me to the beach with her daughter. I got some much deserved me-time."
Jordan smiled at the girl and slid an arm around her.
"I'm glad you had a good time. Nigel and I have some good news to tell you." Jordan said cheerfully.
"I asked Jordan to marry me." Nigel put in quickly.
"Really? Did you say 'yes', Mom?"
"That I did. We were just waiting for you to get home so we could continue with the arrangements. Can't have a wedding without a bridesmaid." Jordan said.
The two girls began to walk off, talking animatedly about the wedding and leaving Nigel to pick up the bags and stumble after them.
It was most certainly not a normal wedding. Lily and Katy wore matching short red plaid bondage dresses and stood near to the altar. Nigel was shuffling nervously in his newly polished black clodhoppers and looking very skinny and handsome in baggy black pinstripe trousers with a tuxedo jacket. His tie was red-plaid, to match the girls' outfits. He was wearing a black bowler that made his big limey ears stick out even more than they did. Bug stood next to him, looking very uncomfortable in his suit and tie, but trying not to show it.
The music started and Nigel's ears pricked like a cats. It was the Verve's 'Bittersweet Symphony'; Jordan's choice. All eyes went to the door as Jordan entered, clad in her own bondage dress. This one had been specially made for her and was long enough to reach her ankles.
Garret and Max took her arms and the three walked down the aisle, Garret turning to give Max a shrug at the peculiar arrangements. The crowd was small, only about fifty people all-together. Nigel's mum had flown in from England and was sitting in the front row blubbering her eyes out. Nigel's face was white as a sheet as Garret and Max brought Jordan up to the altar. They both kissed her cheek and went to sit down on the front pew, signifying that the ceremony had begun.
"We are gathered her in the eyes of God to recognize the joining of Jordan Cavanaugh and Nigel Townsend. They have asked to recite their own vows, and I will request silence while they do so." the stern balding priest said. "Jordan my dear, you may go first."
Jordan took a deep heaving breath and looked into Nigel's eyes, finding nothing but affection in them.
"Nigel, I've known you for ten years. For those ten years you've taken care of me, either directly or indirectly. You've always been there for me, and now I'd like to be there for you and take care of you. For the rest of our lives. Together." she said the last word softly, as if reciting a prayer.
Nigel gave her a small grin, squeezing her hands gently.
"Jordan… There's so much I could say to you right now. I feel like anything I say will be terribly inadequate, so I'll just say this: I've loved you since the first day I met you, and I would gladly love you until the day I die and long after that."
Jordan felt happy tears cloud her vision. The minister cleared his throat and motioned for the rings.
"Nigel, may you protect and watch over Jordan as long as you live. Jordan, may you understand all your husband's quirks and be tolerant of them. The rings?" the priest said.
Nigel slid the plain silver ring onto her finger, then bringing her hand to his mouth to kiss. Gritting her teeth against the flood of emotions, Jordan placed Nigel's ring on his finger, letting their joined hands drop to the side.
"You may now kiss the-"
Jordan was already ahead of things. She threw her arms around Nigel's neck and kissed him fiercely.
"Thank you." he murmured in her ear when she finally parted from him.
"For making my life complete."
Seven years later…
Nigel and Jordan Townsend walked along the warm sandy beach and watched the sun going down. They stopped and leaned in for a kiss.
"Mo-om! Eric's chasing me again!" seven-year-old Hannah protested, racing past the couple.
"Eric! Eric stop teasing your sister!" Jordan called as the short blue blur whizzed past them, in hot pursuit of his older sister.
"Ah let them be." Nigel mumbled into her flesh.
Eighteen-year-old Katy strode up to them.
"Mum, Dads, I'm off to dinner with Ryan. See you at twelve." She said, eager to get away.
"Nine." Nigel said, not looking up.
"Alright. Have you got your cell?" Nigel grinned.
"Alright, call at twelve and you can come home at twelve-thirty."
"Thanks Daddy!" she cried, kissing her adoptive father on the cheek quickly before hurrying off to join her new boyfriend on his motorbike.
"Do you think that was wise?" she asked worriedly.
"Ah, she's a smart girl. She'll call if she needs anything. Don't worry." he resumed his attention on her throat.
"You strange limey… Francis! Francis don't poke that! That's a jellyfish!" she pulled away to chase down her four year old son who was poking at a dead jellyfish with a piece of driftwood.
Nigel sighed and followed her. He scooped up his youngest son and tossed him over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes. Francis squealed excitedly as Nigel and Jordan started down the beach toward their hotel.
"Love you." Nigel said quietly.
"Love you forever."
The sun went down, turning the skyline fiery red. Nigel slid an arm around his wife and pulled her into him.
"You make my life complete Jordan Townsend." he murmured.
They walked off together, Francis slowly falling asleep on Nigel's shoulder and Hannah and Eric racing around in front. This was true perfection, Nigel thought. True Perfection!
Ok, I know that was a crappy ending. But just deal ok? I'm having woman troubles so I'm jest a bit bummed. Review please! I worked very very hard on this fic!