A Voice in the Dark

Chapter X

TITLE: A Voice in the Dark

AUTHOR: Lexie aka lillianschild

FANDOM: Spooks/MI5

RATING: PG13/Mild R 

PAIRING: Lucas/OC

SUMMARY: Section D has a traitor in its midst and a mysterious man arrives with what appears to be the key to rid MI5 of the mole. This fic is my own version of Series 7.

Disclaimer: all recognisable characters belong to BBC and Kudos Productions; I'm just playing with them for a little while without making a profit. No infringement's intended.

A/N: I'm amongst those who hated the whole John Bateman storyline and wondered what show the writers had been watching for two years to ever come up with the idea that Lucas and Bateman could ever have been the same man.

I've put a different spin on the JB affair that I hope you'll approve. Enjoy!

CHAPTER X

Annabelle climbed up the stairs and, wrapped in darkness, navigated the first floor corridor in search of his bedroom. Doubt and regret assailed her as she stopped in front of the door she'd left ajar and heard his even breathing. She'd set the ball in motion and now there was no turning back; she only prayed her decision had been the right one.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she took a few moments to make sure he still slept and then moved towards the bed. Getting back under the covers without waking him up was tricky and made her heart beat in trepidation; what would he do if he were to discover where she'd been?

“You're an ice block, Golubushka,” he whispered all of a sudden, tightening his hold on her as he spooned her from behind, nuzzling her neck with his nose. Annabelle's heart skipped a beat; had he  been feigning all the time? “Go to sleep. I'll keep you warm,” he added, pressing a kiss on her nape and gathering her closer to him in a move that felt more achingly loving than threateningly possessive.

She told herself she'd just done what was expected of her as a member of the service. She was a cog in the wheel that kept the nation safe. Regnum Defende. It was her job, and so far she'd never questioned it; she'd even felt proud of it. But now she felt resentful and torn. Tasting the salt of tears on her lips, she wondered why duty felt like betrayal all of a sudden.

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The first rays of sun were touching her freckled skin when she woke up to find him gone. The imprint of his head on the pillow and the lingering perfume on the sheets were the only visible proof he'd lain next to her.

Looking into the mirror of the mahogany wardrobe across from the bed she noticed her tear-stained face and a pair of eyes which reflected the devastation of heartbreak and guilt. It was a sight that she couldn't allow either man to see.

After a reviving shower she wrapped herself up in a light-blue terry robe and, combing her wet hair, decided to approach the door to try the knob. The latch moved unhindered; further proof they didn't consider her a prisoner but a guest.

Standing in the middle of the corridor she felt tempted to explore the house in daylight but then thought it better and decided to get dressed in her room and wait for Tom to bring her breakfast. She'd promised her colleague she'd go upstairs and wait for the rescue team to arrive. That had been her original plan until the sound of two gunshots and the thud of a body falling stopped her dead in her tracks.