Title: Thank You
Fandom: Spooks
Pairing: Ros/Adam
Tag to ep 6.5.

A/N: I love this show, the writers do the whumping for me, I just need to fix them :) Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] philippacrawfor for the beta, and sorry for hooking you - not!



"I probably said alot of strange things last night, but if one of them was 'thanks', I meant it."

0o0o0o


The muffled shot echoed in the air, more in Ros's brain than in reality. She had used a silencer after all. Stunned silence filled the void for a moment, then Ana turned toward her, eyes wide with shock, lips parted to speak.

Ros knew she could not risk a noise from her, not now. She raised the butt of the gun she'd just fired, and brought it down squarely on the back of the woman's head. Ana's eyes rolled up in her head, and she dropped like a stone. Worried that she might have hit the woman too hard, Ros crouched down and checked her pulse. Strong and steady. The woman had a thick skull, or thick hair. Or both. Ros considered the thick tangle of hair running down the woman's back, and imagined Adam running his fingers through it. The image brought the taste of bitter bile to her throat.

Rising, she surveyed the room. She grabbed a pillowcase, and returning to where Ana lay crumpled, pulled the woman's hands behind her back. Ros rolled the pillowcase into a rope, tied her hands securely together. Turning her back so she couldn't see how vulnerable the woman looked lying unconscious on the floor, Ros pulled out her mobile phone.

"Harry," she said crisply the second he answered. "We have a situation."

She could hear his weary, barely disguised sigh before he spoke. "Tell me."

"Ana's given some kind of drug to Adam, I've neutralized her but her keepers are down in the hotel lobby. And I couldn't get her to tell me what she gave him." The words were coming out in a rush. Ros realized that she was possibly sounding hysterical. She took a deep breath, forced her voice to slow, and continued. "She was trying to drown him in the bathtub," she finished.

"Is she dead?"

Ros shook her head, and then remembered Harry couldn't see her. "No. But Harry," she paused again then added softly, "I fired a shot into the wall so Adam would think so."

Another weary sigh. "Right. I'll send Special Forces and a medic. Stay put. Don't let the Iranians in the lobby know there is anything amiss."

Ros hung up her phone and dropped it back into her pocket. She checked one more time that Ana was secure, and then stepped into the bathroom, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Adam was in the same position in which she had left him. He lay crumpled in a heap on the floor, neck twisted at an awkward angle, pressing his cheek into the puddle of water against the cold wet tile. He was staring at her, grey eyes clouded and barely focused. As she approached him he coughed weakly and struggled to lift his head an inch off the floor. "Ros," he choked.

"Shh." She grabbed all of the towels from the rack and dropped to her knees beside him, ignoring the water seeping through the knees of her already soaked trousers.

"Shot," he said, still trying to rise. He could barely lift his neck, and his arms and legs didn't seem to be working at all. He was shivering uncontrollably.

"Shh," she said again, trying her best to make her voice soothing as she spread the largest of the towels around his shoulders. "It's all right, it's over." The towel didn't completely cover his backside, so she spread another over his legs, tucking it around his waist. Grasping his shoulders she attempted to haul him up to a sitting position. Unable to help her, he was dead weight. Two hundred pounds of cold rubbery flesh. "You could skip a pub meal or two," she grunted, as she finally managed to get him upright, leaning back against the tub. He moaned as his arms flopped to his sides.

She wriggled back to sit next to him leaning back around the tub, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rubbed his arms through the towel, trying to warm him. His head rested against her shoulder.

"You killed her," he mumbled into her neck. His voice was slurred with the effort.

"She was trying to kill you," Ros pointed out, her voice rising harshly. "If I had gotten here five minutes later, I wouldn't have been able to revive you."

He gave a wet sounding cough of distress, shoulders shaking. She immediately felt contrite. "It's all right," she murmured, softening her voice. "Adam, you're okay. Just relax. Breathe."

There was noise in the outer bedroom, as the team had arrived. Adam struggled to lift his head. "Easy," Ros said. "It's just the clean up crew." She regretted her words as soon as she said them, as Adam moaned again in distress. He succeeded in lifting his head this time, and she saw his face was streaked with tears.

"Ros?" called Jo's voice, from the other side of the door.

"In here," she replied.

The bathroom door opened and Jo entered, followed by a husky looking young man with a huge bag, stethoscope around his neck, and a serious expression on his face. Ros wondered if it was her imagination or if medics were getting younger and younger. As the man knelt beside Adam, Ros made eye contact with Jo, who was holding a bundle in her hands. Adam's clothing, Ros saw. "Gone?" she murmured.

"Going," Jo murmured back. "And the babysitters are being interrogated. He okay?" She nodded toward Adam. The medic had removed the top towel and was wrapping his blood pressure cuff around Adam's arm. Jo's gaze lingered appreciatively, though Ros was not sure whether it was Adam's or the medic's impressive biceps she was ogling.

"He will be," Ros answered softly.

"Pressure's low," the medic said, looking up. He unwrapped the cuff and put his stethoscope against Adam's chest. "Do we know what he was given yet?"

"Working on it," Jo said. "I'll see if they have an answer yet." She pulled out her phone.

Adam coughed. "Snakes in the bed," he told them. Ros and the medic exchanged a glance.

"Right," the medic said. "Take a deep breath, please."

Ros held Adam's shoulders as the medic listened to his lungs. As she eased him back to the wall, she saw he was supporting his head a bit more, but he was mumbling about snakes again.

The medic looked up at Jo, who was holding out her phone to him. He took it, spoke crisply, and handed it back to her. "Right," he said again. "He'll be fine."

"Fine," Ros echoed.

The medic nodded. "What they gave him was a strong dose of the latest date rape drug." He grimaced at Adam. "Sorry, mate. Looks like they were just intending to paralyze him, not kill him. With the drug that is," he added, nodding toward the tub. "It'll wear off in a few hours. Give him lots of fluids, and let him sleep." He slid his stethoscope into his bag and rose. "You need some help getting him home?"

"We'll be all right," Jo said quietly. She handed the bundle of clothes she was still holding to Ros and moved to follow the medic out of the suite, leaving Ros to get Adam dressed.

Some of his muscle function was returning, just enough to counter each move she made as she attempted to pull clothing over his flailing limbs. "Adam, hold still," she scolded. "I never wanted to be a mum you know," she muttered under her breath.

"They're gone," Jo announced, leaning against the doorframe and watching in amusement as Ros struggled with Adam's trousers.

"You could help me you know," Ros grunted.

Together, they hauled him to his feet, Jo holding him steady, while Ros zipped up his trousers with a little more force than necessary, and fastened the button. Supporting him between the two of them, one grasping each arm, they half dragged half carried him through the door, into the bedroom. The bathroom floor was still sopping wet from the overflowed bath, and they kept slipping, but once they got onto the carpet and got some traction the going went better. Adam was starting to support himself a little bit on his bare feet, and they made it as far as the rumpled bed before lowering him down to take a break.

Adam teetered precariously on the edge of the bed, and Ros sat next to him, throwing her arm around his shoulders to keep him from toppling over face first. She perched as close to the edge as she could, trying not to think about what had being going on in the pile of twisted sheets behind her, just an hour ago.

"Have you seen his shoes?" Jo asked, walking around the bed with a frown. Ros shook her head.

"Adam," she squeezed his arm, trying to get his attention. His eyes still weren't focusing properly, and his neck jerked awkwardly as he turned it and tried to look at her.

"Where are your shoes?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice patient.

"No shoes," he mumbled. "Bathtub. There were snakes." He twisted his head to look behind him, and started to slide backwards onto the bed, with his lower body sliding forward off the bed.

"Adam" Ros gave up on patience. She grasped his shoulders tightly and hauled him upright again. "There are no snakes. That was the drug. Focus. Where are your shoes?"

He frowned. "Took them off," he said.

Ros rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Where did you put them?"

He shook his head. "Shot," he said slowly, his eyes sliding back and forth across her face. "You shot her."

Ros sighed. "I told you she wasn't good for you," she muttered. Looking up again she saw Adam's eyes were filling with tears. "Oh no," she said. "Don't start. Adam, tell us where your shoes are so we can get the hell out of here."

"Never mind," Jo's voice was muffled. She was down on her knees on the floor on the other side of the bed. "They're here, under the bed. I don't see any socks though."

"Doesn't matter," Ros said. "I'll buy him a new damn pair of socks, a dozen, if we can just get the hell out of here." She felt herself starting to tremble, and realized she felt like she was the one who had been drugged. Her arms and legs suddenly felt like rubber and a wave of dizziness passed over her. Delayed stress reaction, she told herself. Jo stood, holding the shoes and gave her an intense look.

"Are you okay?" Jo asked.

"Fine. Shoes." Ros said shortly. Adam was starting to slip again and she gripped his shoulders more tightly. She needed some air and the sooner the better. Jo knelt down and pushed Adam's patent leather shoes on over his wet feet and tied them tightly.

"Thanks mum," Adam mumbled and Jo looked up for a raised eyebrow.

"How soon can we start teasing him about this?" she asked.

Ros sighed. Her head was starting to throb; an orchestra of percussion beginning rehearsal just behind her eyes. "Jo," she said.

"Sorry," Jo said quickly. She moved to the other side of Adam and took his arm. "Ready to go home?" she asked.

"Need shoes," Adam said.

"You have shoes. I just put them on you," Jo's voice was much more patient than Ros.

"Okay."

"Any chance you can stand yet?" she asked hopefully.

"Mmmhmmm" He made no move to try.

"Right, come on then." Ros slung his arm over her shoulders, and Jo did likewise. They hauled him once again to his feet.

"No," Adam said.

"No?"

"Can't stand."

Ros's headache was getting progressively worse. "You didn't drive here, did you?" she asked Jo.

"Nope. You?"

"No."

"I drove," Adam volunteered. Ros sighed. She nodded to Jo to have the honor of patting Adam down for his car keys. Keys procured, Ros took one last look about the room. The clean up crew had been thorough. There was no sign of Ana, or the shots that had been fired into the floor.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

They began the laborious process of getting Adam out of the room and down the stairs. "Next time pick a hotel with a lift for your little rendezvous," Ros said, gasping slightly for breath as they reached the landing. Jo grunted in agreement.

More control, or rather lack thereof was returning to the muscles in Adam's legs. He staggered drunkenly between them, forcing them to grip him even more tightly to prevent them all tumbling in a heap on the hard stone floor of the lobby.

Finally they reached the door, and Ros took a deep breath of the damp chilly air as they paused on the top of the steps to rest. She took a second breath and felt her headache start to fade somewhat, the blood no longer rushing in her ears, just a dull presence behind her eyes. She scanned the street for a sign on where Adam had parked his car.

Jo held up the keys and pushed the red button on the back of the key fob. They heard a beep in response around the corner to the left. "Shall I go get it?" Jo asked.

Ros nodded in the affirmative, and turned to wrap both of her arms around Adam's waist as Jo let go of him. Adam sagged against her, his face resting on top of her hair. Probably they looked to all the world like a pair of lovers saying an emotional goodbye on the hotel steps. In reality, the muscle tone Adam had been regaining was rapidly declining once again. He moaned softly, hands plucking at her jacket in an attempt to hold onto her. The chill wind whipped at her trouser legs and she shivered, realizing her knees were soaked through from the water on the bathroom floor. Adam shivered in response and she hugged him more tightly.

Adam's black car screeched to a stop at the curb. "Time to go," Ros whispered. She managed to get him halfway down the stairs before Jo reached them. They bundled him into the car, lying across the back seat. Jo got back behind the wheel. Rush hour was pretty much over for the night, but traffic was still a bit heavy, especially on the bridges. Ros looked back to see Adam's eyes closed. She touched his cheek. It was cool, but not cold.

"Asleep?" Jo asked, looking into the rear mirror.

"All this stop and go," Ros said, "it's just like riding the tube." Jo grinned in response. A few minutes later they arrived in front of Adam's flat. Ros shook Adam gently on the shoulder until he opened his eyes. Once they had gotten him out of the car and back onto his feet, for what it was worth, Ros held out her hand to Jo for the keys. "I can take it from here," she said quietly.

Jo frowned. "You sure?"

"Yes." Ros shifted her weight as Adam started to sag. "Go home, get some rest. It's been a rough couple of days."

Jo opened her mouth to protest, closed it again, and shrugged. "Okay. Call if you need anything."

"Well, here we are again." Ros pushed open the door of Adam's flat, and steered him inside. "A little less neat than the last time," she observed, nudging aside a quite intricately detailed fire truck with her foot. "School holidays last weekend, was it? You should make Wes pick up his toys before he leaves." She swept a couple of knights and a Dalek off the couch before letting Adam collapse onto it.

"Not enough time," he mumbled into the couch cushions.

"No, there never is, is there," she agreed, stepping around the counter into the kitchen space. The medic had said fluids. She opened the refrigerator, and pulled out the ubiquitous carton of orange juice. She'd caught Adam drinking straight out of the one in her fridge the first night they were together. "This time you'll use a glass," she muttered. She eyed the pile of dirty dishes in the sink warily, and started to rummage through the cupboards for a clean one. Finding one, she turned triumphant to see Adam struggling to sit up on the couch. He groaned.

"Ros? I'm going to be sick."

"You did that already," she informed him. "All over the bathroom floor. And my trousers," she added. He groaned again.

She poured a glass full of juice and carried it over to him. Sitting on the couch next to him, she held the cup steady, batting his hand away when he attempted to reach for it. "Drink," she ordered.

He obeyed. When the glass was drained, she set it down and wiped his mouth with a tissue. "Still feel sick?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Good. I'm going to borrow some of your dry clothes," she told him. She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, and then left him, heading up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Considering the state of the kitchen, Adam's bedroom was surprisingly neat. The bed was made; clothes neatly stacked in the wardrobe. She found a pair of sweatpants, and gratefully stripped off her wet trousers. She pulled on the sweatpants as well as one of Adam's tee shirts, and padded barefoot back downstairs to the living room.

Adam was curled on his side on the couch, sound asleep. she paused for moment to make sure he was breathing all right, and then went into the kitchen. She contemplated the kettle, and decided instead to investigate Adam's whiskey stash. She poured herself a glass of single malt, and sat in the chair across from the couch, watching him sleep.

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that," She said softly. She took a sip of the whiskey and felt the burning warmth slide down her throat. As she took a second sip, she heard both the ring and vibration of her mobile phone, from the pocket of her jacket, draped over the bar. Keeping hold of her glass in one hand, she rose and dug through her pockets to find the phone. Harry's name flashed on the caller ID.

Slipping up the stairs, out of earshot of the man sleeping on the couch, she pressed answer. "Harry."

"Ros." Harry's voice was gruff. "How is he?"

"Fine. Sleeping."

"Good."

Ros lowered her voice even further. "Ana?"

"We have her in a safehouse. For now."

"Adam can't know she's alive."

"Agreed." Harry paused. "Ros, get some rest. I need both of you in here first thing tomorrow."

"Right." She rang off, and drank the rest of the whiskey in one swallow. Reluctant to leave just yet, she sat back down in the chair.

She didn't realize she'd nodded off until she woke with a start, head jerking up and hitting the back of the chair. Brain foggy with sleep, it took her a second to figure out what had woken her. Adam was moaning again, and thrashing around on the couch. Jumping out of the chair, she got to his side just as he was about to tumble off onto the floor.

"Adam, wake up," she shook his shoulders.

"Wes!" he cried out, struggling back against her, eyes now wide open.

"Wes is fine," she told him. "He's at school, remember?"

"Snakes..."

"No snakes. You're fine, you're home."

He started to sag back onto the cushions, still breathing hard. "She's dead. You killed her."

"Shhh." She reached up and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him against her. Part of her wanted to rail against him again for being so stupid, for being completely deceived by a bloody pretty face, to remind him that if it wasn't for her he would right at this moment be dead. But the rest of her just wanted to hug him like the broken little boy he was at the moment. Majority ruled, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Shhh," she whispered again. "It's all over. You're all right."

He nestled his head against her neck, and she stroked the back of his head, rocking him back and forth until he finally relaxed. She thought he might fall back asleep but instead he lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were clearer, but still not quite right. He had that look on his face, like he wanted to say something to her but wasn't sure what.

"Feeling better?" she asked him, mostly to forestall more comments about snakes or dead lovers.

He nodded uncertainly.

"Ready to go up to bed this time?"

He nodded again, and frowned. "What time is it?"

Ros glanced at the clock on the television. The red light was blinking 0400. She sighed. "Late. Or early. Depends on your point of view."

"You should sleep," he told her solemnly.

She stifled a yawn. "Brilliant idea." Her sarcasm was lost on him as he struggled to separate from her and get to his feet. "Where are you going?" She put a hand on his arm.

He blinked at her. "Bed." Obviously.

"Right." She rose, keeping her hand on his arm. "Let's just make sure you don't fall on the stairs and crack your head open, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

Progress was slow but he made it up the stairs mostly under his own steam. Sitting him on the edge of the bed, she helped him remove the clothing they'd struggled so hard to get on just a couple of hours ago. As she tucked him under the covers, he grabbed her hand.

"Stay."

"I can't," she shook her head. "Harry wants us in early. I need to go home."

He held on to her hand. "Ros," he said softly. "Thank you."

She almost told him then. Almost told him that she'd lied and that Ana was alive. Biting down hard on her tongue, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his forehead.

"You're welcome."

~the end~
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From: [identity profile] philippacrawfor.livejournal.com


So hooked that I watched 5 episodes this weekend -- 2.1, 6.7, 6.8, 6.9, and 6.10. It's like some kind of drug or something. I'm now considering buying Wire in the Blood, as well as trying to track down Whitechapel in the U.S. Bad teoh!

From: [identity profile] alasse-fae.livejournal.com


*hangs head in shame*

*peeks up*

So you'll soon be ready for my post 7.1 fic which I need to finish then ;)
.

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