A Voice in the Dark

Chapter XI

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: Sorry for the long delay in updating but I was bed-ridden for a fortnight and had very little energy left to do much of anything. I hope this chapter will live up to your expectations; it's Lucas-free but he's definitely not out of the picture. There are still four more chapters to the conclusion.

CHAPTER XI

Annabelle slept through her first two days in hospital, only regaining consciousness when a nurse turned up to put some sedative in her IV.

"You're one lucky lady. Everything seems to be working just fine," her surgeon said as she wiggled her fingers. "You can start your rehab in a week's time and in a few months you can consult a plastic surgeon to take care of the scarring."

Fortune or divine intervention had wanted her to survive when all the odds were against her; there was no possible explanation for Edwards' missing the target, especially at so close a range. And, knowing what she knew now- that he'd been the one responsible for Adam's death and the others- she couldn't imagine him having second thoughts when it came to shooting her.

She knew that if she hadn't pulled that trigger she wouldn't have been the only one in a hospital bed or worse. Although she did what she had to do and didn't regret shooting him, the fact that he'd been the first death at her hands still rattled her. Even now her captor's words came back to haunt her. Go back to the life you knew before you were recruited. Someone as pure-hearted as you shouldn't be part of Sir Harry's world and mine.

Whereas she'd almost killed Tom, whom she had come to like, with a simple phone call, she'd had the man she knew she still loved sent to prison. Leaning back against the pillow in her hospital bed, she suddenly yearned for her old life where her most difficult everyday decisions were what to cook for dinner or whether to give a promising but lazy student a second chance.

Three weeks after the shooting she was back in her flat; her right arm in a harness, making the most menial of tasks burdensome. She couldn't wait for her rehab to be over so that she could cook her own meals, instead of living on takeaway food, and enjoy a bubble bath without fearing she would get stuck in the tub and turn into a prune.

She thanked Jo's solicitude and friendship, especially the first few days until she organised herself and felt stronger after having spent a fortnight in bed. Harry checked on her every other day with a phone call when things slowed down on The Grid and came over to visit her with Ruth one Saturday night.

Annabelle observed her mentor and Miss Evershed over dinner with a certain tinge of envy. She hated the feeling because, despite the fact that their acquaintance was very recent, she truly liked Ruth and considered her just the kind of person she'd wished Harry would have in his life. It was simply the pain of knowing she might have had the same if fate had dealt her different cards; if she and the man she lovedand lost weren't who they were.

She and Harry were sitting in the living-room while Ruth brewed some coffee in the kitchen and dished up the luscious chocolate cake they'd brought for dessert.