Yawning as the bright Christmas air shone into his eyes, the sleepy doctor Shetty stretched his arms high above his head, sitting up in bed with a smile. It was the day he’d been anxiously waiting for, for days now- Christmas. He had big plans. He’d taken a few more on-call shifts to make SURE he was around for the holiday itself, and he wanted it to be the first special one in a while. Not just for him- for Evie. He wanted to surprise her with a real English feast, a lovely Christmas dinner where they could really spend more time together. And of course, he wasn’t coming unprepared- he’d picked out the perfect gift weeks ago. It sat high on a shelf in his closet where he could only hope she hadn’t snooped out yet, wrapped in a little box with a big red and green bow on top. It was going to be a perfect evening. Or, so he hoped.
Mindlessly making his way into the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee before he got started on his way, Sam grabbed the remote on the counter, turning the news on while he tended to his morning brew. He perked an ear up when he heard the words “urgent” and “danger”, immediately jumping into protection mode. Turning around to watch the goings-on, his jaw fell to the floor.
PARLIAMENT LATEST TARGET IN TERRORIST ATTACK: BLOWN TO PIECES.
Okay, so maybe American news channels weren’t accurate in their choice of adjectives. Who knew if it really was a terrorist attack, or if it was literally in pieces? Either way, Sam’s mind jumped to one thing, and one thing only. Running back to his room (and turning off the coffee pot on the way), he grabbed his cell phone as he threw off his boxers and flannel pants, dialing quickly and turning on the shower at the same time. He had to work fast. And ugh, right to voicemail.
"Evie? Darlin’, it’s me, Sam. Have you seen the news? Please call me back and let me know you’re alright, I’ll be on the road to yours in ten or less no matter what. But please, I’m worried, love. Call me. Bye."
Hanging up with a frustrated pout on his lips, the doctor tried to breathe. He knew what sort of situation this might be at work, and thanked his lucky stars (or unlucky, as the case may have been in certain lights) he wasn’t called in to tend with injuries. But not knowing if Evie was okay… She had to be. She wouldn’t be out and about anywhere near Parliament. Either way, Christmas was off to a different start than he’d hoped, and he wasn’t going anywhere smelling like cadavers. So into the shower he jumped, a man on a mission, one eye not moving from the cell phone on the sink counter.
Because if Evie wasn’t okay, this wasn’t going to be Christmas as planned at all.