Picfic Tuesday: Aftermath

[alynwa]

April stood in the shower and welcomed the hot water cascading down her body. This feels so good; I may stay in here all night. She adjusted the spray to almost needle – like sharpness and stood so that it massaged the shoulder that had been dislocated four days earlier while she was being held captive and tortured by Lydia DeMille, a mid – level THRUSH operative intent on making her bones on April’s back.

April snorted at the memory. She was so sure Mark hadn’t survived that fall. I wish I had a camera to take a picture of the look on her face when he burst through the door! I wanted nothing more than to let him blow her head off, but I’m glad I got through to him to make him realize that having Illya interrogate her using Veritol 19 and then shipping her to Tartarus was the worst punishment she could ever receive. She rolled her shoulder reflexively. Poor Mark, he was so apologetic about snapping my shoulder back into place. God, that hurt!

Reluctantly, she turned off the spigots and stepped onto her bathroom rug. There was so much steam she could barely see her mirror. I love my apartment, she thought. She had been released from Medical earlier in the day with instructions to rest for another week. Yeah, right, as Mark would say. As she slipped on a white spaghetti – strapped cotton tee she thought, I have enough paperwork on my desk to keep me busy for a couple of days.

She caught a glimpse of herself through the steam in the mirror. It’s probably a blessing in disguise that I really can’t see myself too well. I’m going to have some lovely new scars on my torso.

She walked into her bedroom, pulled back her bed covers and got into bed. She propped herself up and was just about to open her new novel when she heard a key going into her front door. She immediately pulled her gun out from under the pillow and listened. She sighed with relief as she heard her alarms being reset and Mark giving his coded whistle.

“April? You awake, Luv?”

“Yes, come on back.” Her partner had returned to the office after dropping her at home with the promise that he would be coming to stay the night to make sure all was well.

“Be there in a few,” he called. Fifteen minutes later, he walked into the bedroom carrying a tray loaded down with a teapot, cups and several covered plates and bowls. “’Ere we go. This was me Mum’s way of making me feel better: scones, clotted cream, jams with tea and honey.” He set it down on the bed and sat next to her.

“Darling, this looks wonderful! Thanks so much, but you didn’t have to…”

“I’m your partner, April. I want to; now eat. Afterwards, you’ll take your meds and go to sleep. I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

“It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before, Darling.”

“You don’t need me bumping up against your boo – boos.” He broke off a piece of scone and popped it into his mouth. “Delicious. Oh, by the way, DeMille was sent off to Tartarus. You’ll never see her again, Luv.”

She sighed contentedly. This is the best part of a mission: being home in one piece, sort of, and knowing my partner’s safe. Life is good.