Fic
Title: Life Flashes
Fandom: Spooks
Rating: G
Word Count: 1102
Characters: Jo Portman, Adam Carter, Ros Myers, Zaf Younis
Written For fenna_girl
Notes: Spoilers through season 8. References to character death. Thank you Viv for the beta.
A nod. It was all she could manage and all that they could afford. A nod and she knew that there wasn't going to be a later.
A nod and everything stopped.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Adam sat on the edge her desk, tapping a pen against his knee as he looked at her. "Friday night, out on the town. Isn't that the sort of thing someone your age does?"
"Someone my age?" Jo very nearly snorted as she met his eyes, glancing up from the pile of work on her desk. "You make me sound as if I'm sixteen and about to go out on the pull."
"Well," his mouth curled into an amused smile, "aren't you?"
"No," she was indignant whilst still managing to be amused, her eyebrow raised. "I’m not sixteen and not about to go out on the pull either. Besides, what bloke in a bar would ever get vetted by Harry, or by you? And when would I have time for it, either? This life doesn't exactly lend itself to going out and having fun. On top of all that," Jo knew she was lecturing him and wanted to lighten the mood, "you do realise the amount of catch up I have?"
"Oh, I do," he knew only too well. A great deal of the paperwork had once been on his desk and had been moved from his. "You need to find someone to shift it off to."
Her eyebrow rose further, "like you did with me?"
He raised his hand, tapping her forehead with the pen he held. "Exactly like that. Now. How about going out for that drink?"
It froze. No, not quite froze. It simply slowed so much that every movement was so slow, so horribly slow that each motion seemed to take aeons. Ros' hand moved a bare millimetre it seemed. Yet she knew where it was heading. Jo knew what would happen.
"You were good tonight."
Zaf's words were unexpected but welcome. The mission had been a hard one for them all, and Jo had felt as if she were always two steps behind, like no matter what choice she made, she'd come to the decision nearly too late. That she hadn't realised what needed to be done as quickly as Adam would, or Ros, or even Zaf. To have him here now saying this meant a great deal more than she would admit, even to him.
"Yeah?" It was all she could manage and not give herself away.
"Yeah." He repeated her word, giving her a knowing smile. "No matter how much they make it look easy, it isn't, is it?"
Jo very nearly laughed, just managing to stop herself. "It isn't, no. But it's worth it, most of the time. Even if it is hell on my social life."
"Isn't it?" Zaf did laugh at that, knowing what she'd meant. "Even if it doesn't seem so important. Honestly? I went for drinks with some friends a while ago. Talked about life, what we were doing," he paused, "-of course I only told them the cover. But it was strange. You never get over that. Just grow apart from people instead. It's the hardest thing."
Then her hand was there. Raised. Aiming. Firing. Those last few happened too quickly. A part of Jo wanted to scream no but she couldn't. She wouldn't. She knew what had to happen.
"Less mascara today I see," that dry voice, floating over her as Ros leaned in from behind, looking at the screen to see what Jo had been working on. "Forget to stop at the chemist on your way home from work?"
Somehow Jo had started to enjoy Ros' abrasiveness. It was simply a part of her. One of her friends at Uni had said that she'd mocked because she'd cared and that she ignored the people she didn't like. Jo couldn't help but think Ros was a bit like that.
"Oh, you know," she shrugged one shoulder, rolling it back as if she were stretching. "Couldn't afford it on the payroll."
"A tragedy," she spoke mockingly, her eyes scanning the data that Jo was reviewing. "Should call the tabloids, tell them of the horrid state of the services."
"Already have," Jo responded brightly knowing that it would annoy Ros and that her research was reliable. "I have an interview at noon. Could we finish up quickly?"
Ros actually smiled then, her usual quirking sort, faint but there. "As soon as you show me the rest of this tracking information, you can go to your fifteen minutes of fame, such that it is."
Strange, the things that came to mind. They said your life flashed before your eyes. It wasn't her life. It was moments, yes, but not the ones she'd expected. Just moments.
Jo tried again to say hello in Russian, and failed. Lucas laughed, shaking his head. "It's alright. Not everyone takes to Russian, Jo. You've strengths in other places."
"Strengths in other places?" she scoffed, laughing at his statement. It sounded so placating, even though he'd obviously not meant it like that. "What would those be?"
"Intelligence, charm, an ability to see through bullshit?" He assessed things the way he would anything, straight up and to the point.
"Is that all?" Jo met his eyes, her look dry, "Can I say that this is bullshit, then?"
Lucas chuckled, a deep sound that was both comforting and disconcerting. "You could. I'm not sure that you'd be wrong. Not that you're expected to know Russian, you realise."
"I know," she did. She felt at a disadvantage sometimes, not having the knowledge of language that he and Ros had, that Adam and Zaf and so many of the others that she worked with and that she'd cared about once had had. "I do know."
Lucas cut her off. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't useful. Not all of us need to be fluent in Russian or Arabic for that to stay true."
"I know," she repeated herself, her words carrying more weight and less doubt this time. "I know what I do here is important, Lucas. I wouldn't have come back otherwise."
She wouldn't have come back otherwise. But she had come back, and she knew this was why. In this moment, watching Ros' finger curl around the trigger, she knew this was why.
It was over too quickly. Even when time slowed down, it was over too quickly.
It always would be.
They were Spooks. There never was a chance to say goodbye.
Fandom: Spooks
Rating: G
Word Count: 1102
Characters: Jo Portman, Adam Carter, Ros Myers, Zaf Younis
Written For fenna_girl
Notes: Spoilers through season 8. References to character death. Thank you Viv for the beta.
A nod. It was all she could manage and all that they could afford. A nod and she knew that there wasn't going to be a later.
A nod and everything stopped.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Adam sat on the edge her desk, tapping a pen against his knee as he looked at her. "Friday night, out on the town. Isn't that the sort of thing someone your age does?"
"Someone my age?" Jo very nearly snorted as she met his eyes, glancing up from the pile of work on her desk. "You make me sound as if I'm sixteen and about to go out on the pull."
"Well," his mouth curled into an amused smile, "aren't you?"
"No," she was indignant whilst still managing to be amused, her eyebrow raised. "I’m not sixteen and not about to go out on the pull either. Besides, what bloke in a bar would ever get vetted by Harry, or by you? And when would I have time for it, either? This life doesn't exactly lend itself to going out and having fun. On top of all that," Jo knew she was lecturing him and wanted to lighten the mood, "you do realise the amount of catch up I have?"
"Oh, I do," he knew only too well. A great deal of the paperwork had once been on his desk and had been moved from his. "You need to find someone to shift it off to."
Her eyebrow rose further, "like you did with me?"
He raised his hand, tapping her forehead with the pen he held. "Exactly like that. Now. How about going out for that drink?"
It froze. No, not quite froze. It simply slowed so much that every movement was so slow, so horribly slow that each motion seemed to take aeons. Ros' hand moved a bare millimetre it seemed. Yet she knew where it was heading. Jo knew what would happen.
"You were good tonight."
Zaf's words were unexpected but welcome. The mission had been a hard one for them all, and Jo had felt as if she were always two steps behind, like no matter what choice she made, she'd come to the decision nearly too late. That she hadn't realised what needed to be done as quickly as Adam would, or Ros, or even Zaf. To have him here now saying this meant a great deal more than she would admit, even to him.
"Yeah?" It was all she could manage and not give herself away.
"Yeah." He repeated her word, giving her a knowing smile. "No matter how much they make it look easy, it isn't, is it?"
Jo very nearly laughed, just managing to stop herself. "It isn't, no. But it's worth it, most of the time. Even if it is hell on my social life."
"Isn't it?" Zaf did laugh at that, knowing what she'd meant. "Even if it doesn't seem so important. Honestly? I went for drinks with some friends a while ago. Talked about life, what we were doing," he paused, "-of course I only told them the cover. But it was strange. You never get over that. Just grow apart from people instead. It's the hardest thing."
Then her hand was there. Raised. Aiming. Firing. Those last few happened too quickly. A part of Jo wanted to scream no but she couldn't. She wouldn't. She knew what had to happen.
"Less mascara today I see," that dry voice, floating over her as Ros leaned in from behind, looking at the screen to see what Jo had been working on. "Forget to stop at the chemist on your way home from work?"
Somehow Jo had started to enjoy Ros' abrasiveness. It was simply a part of her. One of her friends at Uni had said that she'd mocked because she'd cared and that she ignored the people she didn't like. Jo couldn't help but think Ros was a bit like that.
"Oh, you know," she shrugged one shoulder, rolling it back as if she were stretching. "Couldn't afford it on the payroll."
"A tragedy," she spoke mockingly, her eyes scanning the data that Jo was reviewing. "Should call the tabloids, tell them of the horrid state of the services."
"Already have," Jo responded brightly knowing that it would annoy Ros and that her research was reliable. "I have an interview at noon. Could we finish up quickly?"
Ros actually smiled then, her usual quirking sort, faint but there. "As soon as you show me the rest of this tracking information, you can go to your fifteen minutes of fame, such that it is."
Strange, the things that came to mind. They said your life flashed before your eyes. It wasn't her life. It was moments, yes, but not the ones she'd expected. Just moments.
Jo tried again to say hello in Russian, and failed. Lucas laughed, shaking his head. "It's alright. Not everyone takes to Russian, Jo. You've strengths in other places."
"Strengths in other places?" she scoffed, laughing at his statement. It sounded so placating, even though he'd obviously not meant it like that. "What would those be?"
"Intelligence, charm, an ability to see through bullshit?" He assessed things the way he would anything, straight up and to the point.
"Is that all?" Jo met his eyes, her look dry, "Can I say that this is bullshit, then?"
Lucas chuckled, a deep sound that was both comforting and disconcerting. "You could. I'm not sure that you'd be wrong. Not that you're expected to know Russian, you realise."
"I know," she did. She felt at a disadvantage sometimes, not having the knowledge of language that he and Ros had, that Adam and Zaf and so many of the others that she worked with and that she'd cared about once had had. "I do know."
Lucas cut her off. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't useful. Not all of us need to be fluent in Russian or Arabic for that to stay true."
"I know," she repeated herself, her words carrying more weight and less doubt this time. "I know what I do here is important, Lucas. I wouldn't have come back otherwise."
She wouldn't have come back otherwise. But she had come back, and she knew this was why. In this moment, watching Ros' finger curl around the trigger, she knew this was why.
It was over too quickly. Even when time slowed down, it was over too quickly.
It always would be.
They were Spooks. There never was a chance to say goodbye.