QT UK - Chapter 13 WIP (part 2)

This got a fairly heavy rewrite about halfway through and took me a little while to find the line through things. It also ended up a little longer than expected so I might end up cutting from it if the chapter as a whole ends up feeling too bloated down the line, but overall there's stuff in here I'm really pleased with now it's done and with choosing now to add a 3rd POV.

This marks about the half way point for what I have planned before this monster of a chapter is ready to go out publicly so there's still a little way to go yet. Let me know what you think.

*****

The pill bottle rattled as Nia shook a capsule free and for a moment, the familiar white shape looked back up at her from her hand, almost gloating at her.

It was the first time since meeting Ethan that her anxiety had been bad enough to leave her feeling like she needed the beta-blocker, something that had been an almost daily occurrence before she’d been vaccinated. Hell, she was barely even smoking as a way to deal with stress anymore, while the controlled drumming of her fingers she used to keep her nerves beneath the surface had started to feel more like a foolish habit than a necessity. In just over a week, the never ending feeling of fighting herself, and years of panic attacks had almost entirely gone and instead been wrapped up in something warm and soothing and helpless any time she was near him. But she was making herself avoid him right now, despite how ridiculously tenuous her reasons were starting to feel, and she didn’t want any first impressions to be coloured by the lingering smell of smoke. So what did that leave her…

Slow down. Breath. Focus. You are stronger than this.

Nia tossed the capsule back before her hands could start to tremble, swallowing it without water. She could feel her heartbeat racing, the pressure building, and her eyes closed as she willed the medication to help it all slow down, only opening them seconds later when Evie leaned forward and drew her in for a kiss.

“You’ve got this, ok?” The younger woman’s voice was husky, almost seductive with her reassurance.

Outside the production office rain had begun to lash over Taymont, causing a drum of white noise as it beat against the prefabricated walls. The temporary building, sat across the lawn from the main hall, would normally have been busy with Teams active on Project Upstart at this time of afternoon and after hearing that Aoife had been rescued it was there that Nia had found herself, throwing herself into work so Ethan could have the space and time he needed with the green haired woman. She’d wanted other people around her to save her from being driven to distraction, however a cluster of power cuts to one of the main studios had dragged almost everyone else away, all hands on deck to help Taymont’s regular staff to make sure the evening news could be broadcast. Fortunately, for her, Evie hadn’t been among them.

Her partner sat perched against one of the desks, next to a bank of monitors showing various feeds from the studios, Lukas prominent on several as he tried to take charge of the chaos their schedule had been thrown into. Evie had stayed behind and listened patiently as Nia’s doubts had set her pacing the room, saying very little while at the same time saying a lot. The other woman might not have had the same serum-laced effect on Nia that Ethan did, but there was still something comforting about her presence that made her the next best thing, like warm coffee on a cold day, and right then it was exactly what she needed. Enough anyway that Nia at least felt like she was beginning to resolve herself towards what she needed to do, so long as she could avoid more doubts along the way, or risk Ethan trying to talk her out of it.

A hand cupped Nia’s cheek, and she savoured the touch, leaning back against delicate fingers until the contact became uneasy and she drew away, taking a couple of steps backwards over the barely-there carpet.

“I’ve pushed through worse,” she replied, carefully, before glancing up at the cheap wall clock, ticking away above the whiteboard with the day’s schedule on it, the barely manageable grid of tasks and production deadlines hastily rewritten as always. “And you have a meeting to get to.”  

Both of them knew she was deflecting.

Showing vulnerability didn’t come easy to Nia, no matter how much she felt it or how badly she wanted to. Even if things weren’t complicated with Ethan, she had already spent too much of her life being told that who she was wasn’t good enough for that. From her first week at private school being told her hair was unacceptable to the way she was talked across by peers at university; with every promotion she was passed over for some ego with the right connections and every failed relationship, right back to how her mother would push and expect, living her own lost opportunities through Nia. She was only ever allowed to feel like she mattered when she fought to show her worth, and now she had the chance for something different, Nia loathed herself for forgetting how to be anything else.

Evie knew her well enough by now, both to know what she was thinking, but also not to challenge it directly. “You’re more important, I can be late. I can just tell them all that you were fucking me.”

She said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and for a second, part of Nia considered it, oddly comfortable with the idea of people thinking that’s what she was doing, only for the power to flicker and the impulse to be lost with the buzz of the ceiling lights.

A curse carried from outside, loud enough to be heard over the rain. The voice belonged to Nat, the satellite technician now the latest in a succession of ‘temporary’ senior engineers while Palisade bothered to work out if they needed to replace Aoife. Nat was competent enough, but even a couple of days without the Scottish woman had made it clear just how many miracles she’d been performing without anyone noticing.

“That might be pushing things,” Nia smiled, eventually.

“You’re the boss.”

The other woman remained seated on the desk, but began gathering up half-read briefing papers, uncrossing her legs as she did so. Nia’s position was just far enough away to be given a glimpse up her skirt, unable to tell if that was intentional or not, especially as she noticed that her partner had chosen to go without panties. It was only when she caught Evie watching her, smirking at the reaction to the sight of her folds, that Nia got her answer.

“You know people are going to start noticing you doing that,” she said, failing at disapproval.

“Honestly, I’m not sure I care,” Evie replied with a shrug. “At least not when I get to see the look on your face when I do this.”

The Asian woman spread her legs even further, making it clear she was trying to break some of the tension. Nia did her best to let herself be distracted, but her phone chose that moment to vibrate in her jacket pocket, demanding her focus. Checking the text, she didn’t notice that she’d sighed until Evie hopped to her feet and slipped alongside her.

“Important?” Evie asked, but Nia shook her head. She was waiting on replies to half a dozen things, discussions with the board about Alex, revisions to Averna’s website, and a confirmation from Delphi about the latest team allocation, but only one person would send her an SMS.

“Just Mum.” Her tone earnt her a studious look from her partner, and she brushed the concern aside. “It’s nothing.”

And it wasn’t. Or at least the conversation itself wasn’t. Her parents knew she was working for a vaccine company, but nothing more than that, with neither’s work significant enough for Delphi yet no matter how many strings Nia had tried to pull. She reassured herself that she could get emergency authorisation if either of them became unwell, but in the meantime she envied how their messages could stay fixated on the day to day mundanity of lockdown. The sigh came instead from something she expected, which her mother ended all their conversations with.

Mum: ‘I’m proud of you.’

For whatever reason, it had always been her mother’s way of saying ‘I love you.’ Whether the words just didn’t come easy to her, or whether she thought in her own way she was being supportive, the effect was that part of that affection always felt conditional, like she needed to live up to it. And in moments like this, when she was ready to buckle under her obligations, she felt like someone who was so far away from deserving that approval that it burnt.

Evie glanced at the screen, and seemed to understand enough to give Nia’s hand a squeeze, although the focus on her feelings just left her feeling selfish again.

“You’re sure you want to deal with Rhys,” Nia asked, doing her best to shove the attention onto something more important than herself. With Ethan, rightfully, taking the time he and Aoife needed, someone else needed to attend the video call he’d arranged with the foreign broadcasters and she’d asked Evie to support Rhys with it, not entirely trusting the journalist to be left to his own devices. But that felt like punishment at the best of times.

A reassuring firmness took over Evie’s expression. “I am perfectly capable of handling Rhys for a few hours. Especially if it’s the biggest thing I can do to help right now.”

Nia wasn’t going to argue, but she needed Evie to know she was being asked, not told.

“Unless you want me to…” Evie started to offer to swap places with her, but stopped almost before she had started, seeming to realise that Nia wasn’t going to be talked out of acting any more than she was herself. “No. Of course you don’t. Just take your time if you need it.”

The beta-blocker hadn’t begun to kick in yet, if it was going to at all, the sense of looming, cliff-edge agitation no better than it had been. But Nia knew herself, and she knew that probably wasn’t going to go away. At least not as long as she felt responsible for all the ways the next few hours could go so badly wrong. Aoife was her problem, and she needed to fix it.

“That’s not how it works,” she said. “I know the longer I take the more I’m going to want to hide in a bathroom rather than dealing with things.”

“Ok,” Evie accepted. “But I need you to do one thing for me”

Nia gave a small ‘hmm,’ and the Asian woman leant forward again, stealing another, fleetingly soft kiss.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Some things were easier said than done, but it was still enough for cracks to appear, and some of that vulnerability to show underneath. Nia hesitated before answering.

“I’ll try.”

Evie laughed. “I suppose I’ll have to take that.”

There was a final kiss, almost as if Evie couldn’t quite help herself, and not for the first time Nia reflected on just how little she could picture her life now without her or Ethan. Or how if everything had gone to plan, she would never have had either of them.

Nia lingered just long enough to wish Evie good luck of her own, before heading to the doorway, pausing as she got there. Exhaling, she gave the same tug on the bottom of her jacket that she always did, the action of straightening her outfit habitual enough to feel like a tick, one she still did despite the fact the rain would soon soak her through and render the effort pointless. The world was judging her, and it was part of how she reached for her mask, doing her best to fool herself into confidence.

Nia hadn’t asked for any of this. Most of the rest of Averna’s board had been vaccinated weeks ago, their partners given the US serum on the initial stabilisation rounds, but she’d demurred. She’d argued that it was poor optics if she was running PR for the launch of a drug she hadn’t even taken herself and that she would wait for Gemivax to be ready, but in truth she’d simply been terrified. It had taken her that long to overcome the worry that something would rob her of herself and that enough of her mind would be rewritten that she’d wake up from imprinting as someone different, an imposter in her own skin.

That hadn’t happened. The last few weeks had changed her of course, but it would have changed anyone, and there was no point along the way where she’d stopped being her as she’d feared. But that fear had been the reason why, when the company had pushed for her to be designated as the team’s focus on Delphi, she’d eventually accepted. Not for herself, but for the other women she was going to be bonded with. She’d heard one or two horror stories from the US and Nia had reasoned that if things were going to happen with or without her, it was at least better to take what influence she was being offered. It might well have been ego talking, but if she could make herself even a little bit responsible for what happened to those joining her team, no matter what hand they were dealt, that was better than nothing.

She had told herself she could make sure things were perfect for them. But then things weren’t even close to perfect, were they?

Your responsibility. Your mistakes. Your fault.

It was barely fifty metres from the office to the hall itself, but it was still far enough to leave her dreading the rain’s effect on her hair and by the time she reached the front entrance she was cursing whoever’s idea the arrangement was, followed by herself for not thinking of an umbrella. The presence of the Special Branch cars, pulled up presumptively in front of the doors only slowed her down further, leaving her dodging puddles at the side of the path as she made her way indoors. It meant that she was in more haste than she would normally accept as she entered what had been the hotel’s reception, trailing water behind her, and the sound of a voice addressing her was enough to leave her uncharacteristically flat footed.  

“You’re protecting her.”

Detective Collingwood imposed herself beside the front desk, her face as hard as the wooden counter she was leaning against. She allowed Nia the firm impression that she had been there waiting for her, despite how implausible it felt that she’d have known to expect her, something it was hard not to concede was a good trick. More pressing however was the feeling that she’d been caught out without knowing what for, and as she stopped to face Collingwood, Nia pointedly folded her arms. She saw too much of herself looking back for anything other than grudging respect but that still didn’t mean she was about to leave much unguarded, particularly with the anxiety still clawing inside her chest.

“I had just enough questions between this and what happened to Ms McNamara to get authorisation to do some digging. Project Upstart’s Delphi data makes for interesting reading.”

Nia’s had enough practice at remaining impassive, despite how much she wanted to glare back at Collingwood. “It’s been challenging, for a lot of reasons. There were good people we wanted to have on board and working around that almost meant the planning had to start again from scratch.”

“I can imagine there were a lot of difficult feelings to navigate.” The detective’s statement was outwardly sympathetic, but Nia could tell how probing it was, like a fencer trying to open up her guard.

Difficult was an understatement. Of the three men who Nia had originally contacted to work on Project Upstart, two had passed away from DuoHalo before they could be vaccinated. The first, an experienced tv journalist called Nick Hastings had been hard enough to replace with Rhys, but it was losing Tom Warrick that had really left everything in tatters.

Tom was meant to have been her partner. When Nia had tentatively allowed the algorithm to compare her to potential candidates at Taymont, it had given her two possible team arrangements and it was the older Welsh producer that she’d chosen. The conversations she’d had with him had gone more to persuading her past her fears than anything else and hearing that he’d died after collapsing was the closest she’d come to backing out. But things were too far along, and it had left her with her second choice, the inexperienced leap of faith with the compatibility score high enough to scare her shitless.

“It was harder for the handful of people who knew enough to start having expectations,” Nia said, simply. Or at least it had been that way at first.

Reworking things around two new Teams had meant ripping everything up. There had been a world where she and Nell Armstrong might have been the first members of Team Warrick together, where Aoife and Farah could have been good matches for Nick, and where Evie hadn’t been on the project at all. Nia was sure that had been tough for people like Armstrong who’d known and had watched the numbers suddenly change, but it was part of why she’d barely thought twice about Ethan and Aoife. Neither had disclosed their feelings for each other and they were just one of several maybes and almosts that hadn’t come to pass, but she had missed what was there. Despite the promises she’d made to herself was still chasing the ghosts of a story they hadn’t told.

Collingwood continued. “I did notice that Aoife Ryan wasn’t on any of those team allocations, in fact there was no suggestion she was seriously being considered for the project, until less than a week ago.”

“I have a level of discretion with staffing and chose to use it,” Nia’s voice turned firm, but not aggressive. “I assume you’re going somewhere with this?”

“Don’t try and sell me that, I’ve seen the numbers, she has a compatibility with Team Barclay ten points lower than any other pairing you’ve allowed on the entire project. Her answers to simple questions could barely be less consistent with yours if you tried and there are more red flags around the data on her harddrive than really I care to count.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I assume she’s been through a lot and I’ve already said I will take full accountability for any information breaches from the project, but I’m not answerable to you on how I run it.”

“Her compatibility with Ethan Knight has nothing to do with anything then.”

At the mention of Ethan’s name, Nia’s finger’s clenched as a hot wave of anxiety swept up through her, and she had to pause and force her words to stay level. “Are you actually expecting me to answer that?”

“You know this is going to be much easier if you work with me here.”

“Is it?” Nia’s eyebrows quirked upwards, showing her incredulity. She had no doubt that Collingwood could make this very unpleasant if she wanted, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do the same. As if spotting the coming confrontation, the officer softened, her shoulders dropping with something approaching exasperation.

“Allow me to reframe this. I am good at my job, Nia. Not the sort of box ticking crap that passes for competence with some people, actually good. And now, more than ever, part of that means recognising when I’m pushing against something that’s better being left well alone. Between what’s happened here and Delphi being manipulated with Alex McNamara, I have enough to drag things out kicking and screaming into the light if I choose to. But right now I can’t quite shake that the consequences from doing that to Project Upstart aren’t going to be in anyone’s interests.”

Things still felt heightened enough for Nia that with every word the other woman spoke she was looking for the obvious trap, wondering exactly what she wanted that was going to be used against her. She knew what her gut told her, but that was all the more reason to make herself slow down and check with her head, but Collingwood mistook the hesitation for reluctance.

“I know when I’m being lied to. You have an engineer who’s stolen and then leaked state secrets, you’re defending her, and I need you to look me in the eyes and give me a reason to be good at my job.”

Nia breathed.

What's one more leap?

“Early on, a little after I got here,” she started, “one of my colleagues gave me a piece of advice. He told me that I’d never have all the answers, so I should work out which of my choices I could bear to live with, and then live with them.”

The dynamic reversed, and she watched as suddenly Collingwood was the one scrutinising her, trying to puzzle out where things were going.

“I thought I understood what he meant, but I didn’t. I’ve been hedging my bets. I had enough rose-tinted hubris to think that as long as I was a step ahead I could find some way to make sure everything was perfect no matter what happened. But when I saw the look on Ethan’s face when I told him that we could match Aoife to Rhys…”

The memory felt too big to put into words, so, against character, Nia didn’t even try. It had only shown for the briefest moment before he’d buried it, but the hurt Ethan had felt had been so vivid that Nia never wanted to see it again. Even making it clear that it was just as ruse hadn’t quite been enough and had left Nia asking her how she would manage if she actually was the one thing standing between them. The further this went the more it was obvious how deeply Ethan felt, and it kept bringing her back to one answer; she didn’t think she could. Maybe that had changed about her too?

It was why she was avoiding him. Her mind was made up, and she hated the idea that he might be selfless enough to try to do or say something that put her feelings back in the equation.

“By all accounts Aoife Ryan is reckless, she’s stubborn and she is incredibly lucky this doesn’t seem to have caused more problems than it has, but I’m not doing this for her. I’m doing it for him. Whatever happens, that is the one choice I can live with myself making.”

The sound of the rain punctuated the declaration as Collingwood listened. Nia understood the question being asked was whether the police officer was best to accept what had happened and walk away, but there was nothing to her reaction to suggest if she’d been given the answer she wanted or not. Even the half-smile Collingwood gave, self-satisfied in the corners, could be read one of two ways.

If she had even planned to reply, the officer was interrupted before she could, as the walkie talkie on her belt sprang to life, and garbled something that she seemed to understand but that Nia missed.

Bringing the device up to her mouth, Collingwood said, “I’ll be right there,” before returning briefly to Nia. “That’ll be all for now."

Frustration simmered inside her, but Nia refused to debase herself by demanding more as Collingwood abruptly left, striding out towards the wet. She didn’t have the energy for aloof and inscrutable. Instead, all Nia felt was relief that it was one less concern for now, if it was even still an issue at all, and the instant she was alone she unfolded her arms, letting her hands shake.

Nia had half expected vocalising things might have made the weight feel lighter, but it hadn’t, just making it feel even more real. She had pushed and fought and stressed over getting things right, lost herself in rose-tinted hubris, been found wanting. Her own baggage had made her so sure that it was her responsibility to shoulder every possible outcome that she’d missed what should have been obvious, but she still had time to fix things, or at least to try. Her legs didn’t want to move, but she took a second to collect herself, and made them anyway.

Breath. Focus. You are stronger than this.

Stepping towards the hotel’s grand staircase, her eyes followed it upwards, step by step, towards where she knew Aoife’s room and the source of her anxiety was.

It was time to build a bonfire for her expectations, and to find something good in the ashes of perfect.