Title: Welcoming Committee
Pairing/characters: Becker/Matt, Connor, Abby, Emily
Warnings: Occasional mild language
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 850
Summary: “You’re an idiot.”
AN: Follows on from Stand
AN2: I appear to have broken my own rule and caved in to popular demand (or possibly just outright demands!) and written a fixit for my own fic. Also, telperion_15 practically dared me, so I suspect it’s partly her fault. And I appear to have written Matt and Emily for the first time, which was... unexpected.
“You’re an idiot.”
“And your toy guns are shit.”
Becker prised his eyes open and squinted up to see Matt smirking at him.
“My guns are perfectly good for the job. It’s not my fault if you broke it in half using it as a club. Which, by the way, probably invalidated the warranty on it.”
“Of course. They always blame user error,” Becker mumbled.
Realising he was in a hospital room, he glanced around and noticed Emily standing at the foot of the bed, and Connor and Abby on the opposite side from Matt.
Wonderful. An audience. Just what he wanted when he was sore, woozy, and in all likelihood drugged up to the eyeballs for reasons that he still couldn’t quite remember.
“How are you feeling?” Matt asked.
Becker knew the man well enough to recognise the genuine concern, even though that smug half smile was still very firmly in place.
He wiggled his fingers and toes, and quickly worked out quite how many parts of his body were now being held together with stitches. Then he remembered why.
“Like I’ve been used as a T-Rex’s chew toy.”
“Actually, I think they were deinonychus,” Connor supplied helpfully.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to remember that for the official report,” he responded dryly. Then he turned his head to look at Connor properly and found himself staring in horror.
“God, Connor! What happened? Are you okay?”
Connor looked momentarily confused, and then glanced down at the dried blood that covered most of the front of his shirt and trousers.
“What? Oh, this is your blood. And while we’re on that subject, don’t you ever do that again, all right?”
Becker winced at the sudden loud voice. He let his head drop back onto the pillow and sighed.
“I might have known it would be too much to ask that anyone might actually thank me for holding off an entire pack of dinosaurs single-handed. No, I don’t even want thanks. But a ‘well done’ wouldn’t go amiss.”
He had a vague suspicion he was whining, although he could probably blame it on the morphine if anyone said anything about it.
“Well done, it was very brave,” Emily said in that tone that Becker could never quite tell whether she was being serious or not. “It was also very stupid, though, so you shouldn’t feel too smug about it.”
Becker rolled his eyes.
“Of course not.”
“It’s good to have you back in the land of the living,” Abby said. Then she grinned mischievously. “And I’m sure you’ll get round to thanking us for saving you sooner or later.”
A vague memory filtered in, involving Matt and the others appearing in the corridor with guns that actually worked, and Connor pulling him away from the fight and insisting he was going to be all right in a voice that was entirely too panicky to be at all reassuring. Even so, they had, apparently, saved him.
Oh, god. Matt was going to be unbearable for weeks.
“Come on,” Abby said, mostly directing her words at Connor. “I think we should let the heroic idiot get some rest.”
Her grin was still very firmly in place as she waved goodbye to Becker and dragged Connor away.
Emily threw Matt a significant look, and added, “Try to remember he’s injured, won’t you?” Then she turned back to Becker and said, “I hope you get well soon,” before she followed Abby and Connor.
When all the others had gone, Matt perched himself on the bed and reached for him. Becker met him halfway, and suddenly Matt’s lips were on his, Matt’s arms were around him, and Becker surrendered into the kiss that said everything their sarcastic banter tried to hide.
“Connor was right,” Matt said quietly, his breath ghosting across Becker’s lips when they eventually parted. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“Can’t let you have all the fun,” Becker replied. “And thanks for the rescue. Even if it would have been rather more useful a few minutes earlier.”
“I won’t bother rescuing you at all next time, if that’s the best you can say,” Matt smiled.
Becker realised his fingers were tangled in Matt’s shirt. Somehow he didn’t feel inclined to let go, though.
“Tell you what,” Matt continued. “Why don’t I use my sexy accent and masculine charm on the nurses and see if I can persuade them to let me take you home instead of keeping you in overnight?”
“Masculine charm?” Becker’s eyebrows hitched upwards.
“Don’t sound so surprised. It worked on you, didn’t it?”
“No. That must just have been the sexy accent.”
This time Matt was the one who rolled his eyes.
“You could at least be grateful I’m trying to get you out. I know how much you hate hospitals.” He leaned close and whispered, “Besides, I’m sure I can think of several very nice ways to distract you from all those injuries.”
He closed the distance and they kissed again, lingering until breathing became an issue.
“Fine,” Becker allowed. “But no matter how distracting you are, your guns are still shit.”