Title: Jealous Guy Author: jimsgirl Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Thames/Pearson. I just like to borrow them from time to time to screw their lives up a bit! The lyrics to “Jealous Guy” belong to John Lennon. Rating: 15ish (or the international equivalent) - m/m implied - If you’re looking for the explicit stuff look elsewhere - I’m a more male bonding/relationshippy type of person meself... Pairing: Carver/Skase with a dash of Dashers thrown in!! Spoilers: Everybody’s seen “Going For A Song” now, right? Thanks: To the the peeps at ‘Any Previous’ for promising to link to my Carver-site when it’s up and running next month!! Comments: All right, why did look Skasey look so honked off when he saw Carver & Dashers up in the bedroom windie, and why did Skasey look so knackered and sound so petulant when he turned up at work the next day? Feedback: togepi.egg@btinternet.com Jealous Guy Rod Skase screwed the white cup back onto his thermos, threw it aimlessly onto the seat behind him. He drew his jacket tighter around him but still couldn’t dispel the cold. This is ridiculous - the heaters are on full blast, the windows are closed....and it’s nearly July.... Maybe I’m getting the flu...yeah. He sniffed experimentally. Yeah. That’s probably it. He placed a hand to his forehead. Warm. Rod - the heaters are on full blast, the windows are closed and it’s nearly July. Anyway, the cold wasn’t coming from outside. He reached over, turned the heater down a little, turned the radio up. The tones of a cheesy DJ from a local radio station seeped out of the speakers. “And for Jo-anne, of Canley Fields, here’s a classic Bryan Ferry number....” Rod recognised the opening strains and quickly slammed the ‘off’ button with the palm of his hand. He didn’t want his nose rubbed in it, thanks. His eyes fell shut for a moment, and a vision of his lover drifted into view. Blond. Blue eyes. Incredible body. A glow of warmth began to surround him. God, I’m so lucky....I..... God, I don’t want to lose... He shut out the thought, wound the window down further. Glanced out. The vision became a reality in the upstairs window of the house. Peeping round a net curtain. A smile. A smile back. Then another figure came into view. This other figure smiled at his lover, who grinned broadly back. And then the curtain dropped. Rod swallowed back his rising anger. He should trust Jim....they’d been through so much together! Nine months now...barely a cross word spoken between them...he was sure it would have been forever.... It will be forever! Something shouted at him. Mike’ll go back. Disappear for another three years. Yeah. But how will Jim react? He thought. Jim had told him of the pain he had borne when he and Mike had split. He’d thought Mike was his forever. Could that much have changed? Hell - you know what they say about absence.... * Rod let himself into his ground floor flat. Tosh had sent him home, told him he looked knackered, said he and Mike would watch the house, they’d call with news in the morning. Something in Tosh’s eyes had told him, told him that he knew. He kicked the door shut behind him, shrugged off his jacket, threw his keys onto the hall table. Looked at his reflection in the mirror. Heard a movement to his left, turned. “Jim.” He reached out a hand. He hadn’t expected Jim to come here tonight. Jim kept his arms resolutely crossed across his chest. “You lost him on purpose, didn’t you?” He was refering to the burglar, that he and Tosh had temporarily lost in the rabbit warren of streets around the Canley Estate. “’Course not.” Rod was incredulous. Almost speechless, which was a new feeling for him. “You wanted Mike’s case to go down the toilet, didn’t you?” “I thought it was your case?” “I’ve passed it on to him. I told you that.” A furrowed brow. “When?” “I just....told you...Rod. If you weren’t listening...” Jim shook his head, stormed into the lounge, snapping on the light as he went. “Did Mike say that? Did he accuse me?” “He didn’t have to, Rod. Anyway, Mike wouldn’t do a thing like that, he’s....” “Polite, generous, kind, caring, great looking? And let’s not forget of course the small fact that he used to be your...your....” Rod could bring himself to say the word. “My lover.” Jim nodded. “What, you think he’s jealous of us?” “Maybe.” “I haven’t even told him about us, Rod. He’s only going to be here for a couple of days. Why bring it up?” Rod’s mouth formed into a line, his jaw tightened. “Nice to know I’m that important to you, Jim.” “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know I didn’t.” “Do I?” “Mike is in the past, Rod. You’re....” Jim stepped forward. “You’re my here, my now - my forever.” Rod stepped backward, shaking his head. “They’re just words, Jim. I saw the way you two are together. You walk in step, you share the exact sense of humour, he’s made you smile more today than I’ve ever seen you smile...” Rod began to lose his fight against tears. “You two are....you must have been made for each other or something...” “I used to think that.” Jim said. “Every one else, that...that knew, they said that too. Felt it was so right. That’s why they helped cover up for us, came up with the cover of Sonya...I loved him, Rod, and in many ways I still do. We just can’t....live together. We’re too much alike in too many ways.” Rod was silent for a moment. Then: “You still love him?” “Not like...” “Not like you love me?” A deathly pause. “That’s all I needed to know, Jim, thanks.” He turned away from Jim. “Rod, please let me explain!” “No. Get out.” “Rod, I don’t want this....I don’t want to lose you.” “Why not? ‘Cos it’ll get awkward at work? Well...I think there’s a vacancy for a DC at Art and Antiques, Jim.” “I deserved that.” Jim admitted. “Yeah, Jim, you did.” Rod dpun back around. “Just answer me this, Jim......when you and me are....when you and me were making love, who was it you were thinking about? Me or him?” “That’s low, Rod.” “Well, what else am I supposed to think, eh?” “It was always you, you know that.” “No....no, I don’t!!” “Alright, what do you want me to say? That I fantasised about Mike? Alright, so maybe I did, maybe once or twice, I did!!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jim wanted to bite them back. “Rod, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean...Rod....” Rod stepped forward then, looked Jim straight in the eye. Then, with lightning quick speed, he brought his right fist back and slammed it hard into Jim’s jaw. Jim stumbled backward, hit the coffee table, fell backwards and ended up sprawled on Rod’s shag-pile carpet. He rubbed his jaw, glared up at Rod. “You....you bastard.” Tears welled and began to flow. Jim didn’t know whether they were from anger, or the pain, or the fear that was building inside.... “Jim, I....” Rod’s knees buckled, he fell to the floor. “Jim, I’m so sorry...” “I told you, Rod....I told you that if you ever hit me, I’d....” Jim struggled to get to his feet, then dug in his jacket pocket, pulled out a bunch of keys and threw them in front of Rod. “Keys.” He stated simply. He stepped over Rod, who was sobbing into the carpet, reached the doorway, and turned. “Is there really a vacancy in the Antiques squad?” A muffled “Yeah.” “I might just take a look at that.” Jim had intended his words to hurt Rod, but the effect was dulled by the fact that he was unable to stop himself crying. He walked down the hallway, and let himself out. But he didn’t get much further than the first concrete step that led from Rod’s door down to the street. * 2am. Rod downed the dregs of his sixth whisky. God, he had to get to bed. He was due in to work in six hours. He stood, walked over to window to draw the curtains. He looked through. And saw a solitary figure sitting on the steps outside. “Jim?” He must have been there a good hour. Why was he still here? He could have gone back to Mike, taken over from Tosh.... Caught up on old times...... Rod berated himself for his last thought. He looked out to Jim, who now had his arms crossed on his knees, his head resting on them. And he’d never felt quite so much in love. An idea came to him, he smiled slightly. He quietly pulled up the sash window, drew the curtains. He glanced around, located one of the speakers to his stereo system, pulled it as close to the window as the lead would allow. Then he darted over to his CD collection, scanned it’s alphabetized contents, pulled out the right CD, slid it into the player, located the correct track. And turned the volume up full. I was dreaming of the past.... And my heart was beating fast... I began to lose control I began to lose control I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m sorry that I made you cry I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m just a jealous guy Jim looked up, around. Then a voice, gentle, behind him. “Jim.” Rod hunkered down beside him, and using a wooden spoon from his kitchen as a mike, mouthed along: I was feeling insecure You might not love me anymore I was shivering inside I was shivering inside I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m sorry that I made you cry I didn’t want to hurt you I’m just a jealous guy A few assorted crys of “Shuttup” and “Turn that bloody racket down!” could be heard, but Rod’s attention was fixed only on Jim. During the guitar break between verses, Rod whispered to Jim. “I love you.” Jim ducked his head. “Alright, but lets go back inside...” People were beginning to gather. Rod carried on, not mouthing but singing the next verse at the top of his lungs. I was trying to catch your eye I thought that you were trying to hide I was swallowing my pain I was swallowing my pain I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m sorry that I made you cry I didn’t mean to hurt you I’m just a jealous guy. He looked at the people who were staring at them, obviously thinking that he was deranged, or drunk, or both....and then yelled: “I love this man! And I don’t care who knows it!!!” “Rod!” Jim hissed, acutely embarrassed. “You still want to take this inside?” Rod smiled. Jim’s thunderous expression began to fade. “Alright.” He got up. “It’s alright, folks.” He said. “There’s nothing to see.” He caught Rod’s eye and they started laughing, eventually laughing so much so that they had to support each other to get back into the flat. When they were back in the living room, Rod said, quietly. “I mean it, Jim, I love you and I’m sorry and...” “It’s alright. Really...” “Yeah, but Jim....I really really am sorry and if there’s anything...” “Rod...” Jim moved forward, took Rod’s hand, moved in, and kissed him full and hard on the lips. Pulling away, he grinned. “Shuttup!” Rod returned the compliment. “You shuttup.” “No...you shuttup...” “No...you....” He stopped. “You want to take this into the bedroom?” “Nah.” Jim released Rod’s hand, moved to the window, closed it, pulled the speaker away. Ducked to the CD player. A few button presses later, the opening bars of “Every Breath You Take” belted out of the speakers at full volume. “Oops.” Jim looked sheepish, turned the sound down. “Our song.” Rod smiled. “Yeah. The Police. What could possibly be better?” * “....and Jim’s following him now.” Rod finished giving Chris Deakin the update. “You look knackered, Rod.” “Yeah. Case conference. With DC Carver. Lasted until the early hours.” He stifled a yawn. “Oh. I see.” Deakin grinned broadly at Rod and sauntered back into his office. “What was all that about?” Suzy Croft enquired as she walked past Rod’s desk. “Y’know something Suzi?” Rod said as he stood. “I’ll tell you when you’re a little bit older.” He patted her on the back and strode out of the CID office, whistling as he went.