Summary: The worst has happened.
A/N: Pretty Nigel centric this time around. This sonnet is not a sonnet per se, but it is in sonnet form. (My Brit lit book only has so many decent sonnets in it)
If I should die, think only this of me;
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt, of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under and English heaven.
The explosion there following was deafening. Nigel instinctively threw his body over Jordan to protect her. Jordan let out a muffled yelp as the tall Brit tackled her to the ground and held her there, out of danger.
Everything seemed to happen at once, the bomb went off, shattering windows and sending glass flying everywhere. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, it was over. Nigel cautiously unfolded his body from over Jordan's. What felt like an entire window's worth of glass fell off of Nigel's back and clattered onto the floor. He helped Jordan up and brushed her off.
"What happened?" Jordan murmured.
Nigel, seeing that Jordan was all right physically, called out to the surrounding area to see who had survived the blast.
"Is anyone hurt!" he called.
Answering groans came back.
"Dr Macy!" Nigel said suddenly.
He raced into Dr Macy's office, the office closest to ground zero. The window's and doors were shattered and Dr Macy was nowhere in sight.
"Garret?" Jordan called.
A low groan came from behind the desk. Nigel knelt behind the desk and pulled his boss out from under the debris of his wrecked desk.
"What the hell happened?" Garret asked hazily, looking at his hand; which was bloodied from touching his face.
"Bomb, I think. Garret, that doesn't look good." Jordan said worriedly, motioning to a rapidly spreading bloodstain on her boss's shirt.
Nigel boldly moved the shirt away to reveal a decent sized piece of glass embedded in Garret's side.
"Fuck." Garret swore.
"Do you want me to take it out?" Nigel asked uncertainly.
Dr Macy gave him an irritated glance and yanked the bloodstained glass out himself. He tossed it away and winced as he stood up.
"Damnit that hurts." he swore furiously.
Jordan raised an eyebrow, but slipped an arm around her friend to help him out of the ruined office.
"Sit him down over there." Jordan said, motioning with her head to a seat in the visitor's room that hadn't taken too much damage.
They did so and once they had, Nigel fished in his pocket for his cell phone.
"Dr Macy, can you call for backup? I think we've got some injured." he suggested, handing Garret the phone.
Garret nodded and Nigel went off to help back near ground zero. Jordan stood watching him go.
"He hasn't said anything yet, has he?" Garret said suddenly.
"Huh? What? No… I told him…"
"And he blew you off?"
"Not as such. The bomb kinda ruined the moment." she said wryly.
Nigel sighed and stretched his back out. It twinged painfully. All the injured had been taken care of. There was luckily only one death, and that was of the bomber, so no loss there.
He heard footsteps behind him and Jordan's voice spoke up.
"Are you aware your back's bleeding?" she asked glibly.
Nigel craned his neck to see.
"Am I? Oh well…" he replied nonchalantly.
Jordan rolled her eyes, took his hand, and led him into one of the free autopsy rooms.
"Sit down and take your shirt off." she ordered.
Nigel sighed and did as he was ordered. He tossed his ruined t-shirt in the trash bin and sat down backwards on a chair with his head on his crossed arms. He could hear Jordan clattering about in the cabinets.
"Aha!" she exclaimed.
"Why do I have the feeling this is gonna hurt?" Nigel grumbled.
"Hush up." she teased.
She pulled a rolling chair up behind Nigel and went to work, pulling tiny shards of glass out of his back.
"So," she started.
"So." he said.
"I want to go out with you." she said offhandedly.
Nigel stiffened as she pulled particularly large shard out of his back.
"Oh aye?" he replied casually.
"Yeah. How's tonight sound?" she asked.
"Yeah. Sounds good." he said, trying desperately not to betray his nervousness. "You can give me a sponge-bath."
"Oh, that's not all I could do." she purred in his ear.
Ten minutes later she had finished removing all the shards of glass and was tossing the glass and the tweezers into the hazardous trash bin. Once finished with that, she leaned over her confused coworker and whispered seductively in his ear.
"The things I'm going to do to you, my sweet limey boy." she said as she stroked the back of his neck.
Nigel let out a little whimper and his right foot began thumping rhythmically against the cabinet. Jordan snickered evilly.
"If that's all it takes to have you putty in my hands, what're you going to do when I take you home tonight?" she murmured, still petting Nigel.
"Bugger!" Nigel squeaked.
"Exactly." she smiled.
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washéd it away;
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the waves, and made my pains his prey.
"Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay
A mortal thing so to immortalize!
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wipéd out likewise."
"No so," quod I, "let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name;
Where, whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew."Edmund Spenser
Please review! I would appreciate it. I hope that even if you didn't like the fic, you learned some new poems. Literature is brilliant, especially Brit Lit. And porn. Porn is good, yeah?