Disclaimer: The Facts of Life and its characters are the property of Columbia Pictures Television and Sony Pictures Television, no infringement intended.
CHAPTER ONE
Lorraine Bell was in her early forties. No children and a husband to survive her when he finally beat her to death. She was a legal aid seduced by a sweet talking cop with brass balls and hair like James Dean. Twelve years later, still in the profession of writing binding contracts her husband's James Dean hair thinned out visibly balding.
Detective Jo Polniaczek watched two uniforms be charmed by their fellow boy in blue. They were laughing on the porch and offered beers they declined. The senior officer, Mitch Bell, knew better to even offer. After the brief rapport and assurances to keep the noise down the uniforms drove off. Jo made a conscious decision not to bring her weapon with her. The smiles were genuinely indifferent to the victim inside. They'd been there for a fifteen minutes and were already leaving without having been inside. And if a gun had been in Jo's reach she would have been tempted to release some tension using it.
They walked away at the word of the attacker while blood still stained his fist. She wasn't any better standing across the street in the shadows watching. When she first met Bell she was naïve. A streetwise kid from the Bronx could be naïve. For several reasons involving her teenage years at a school with certain roommates had lowered her guard.
She remembered her and her partner at the time had been given a disturbance of the peace call. She eased the victim down to sit and talk, but she was too frightened to say a word. Jo had been so concerned because by the woman's fragile state she hadn't noticed the family photos littered about the yellow den. The interview was cut short by what she thought was cavalry at the time. She was given a pat on her back for a good job by her partner and the husband donning his badge with a shit eating grin. Recognition washed over her and then rage. It was her career or this woman, she chose her career. With too much to prove at the time she turned a blind eye eventually forgetting as time passed. Five years later she crossed paths with a weeping Lorraine in a bathroom at a cop barbecue.
Incredibly helpless even as she was surrounded by cops who'd sworn an oath to protect and serve. There were no comforting words. Just a look of sympathy and she walked away.
Jo usually stayed for another half hour when everything was quiet. Bell would leave her alone to lick her wounds. If he hadn't already an apology was coming. It would sound nice just like all the others Lorraine heard, but it wouldn't be sincere or permanent.
Randall Weller sized up the smiling women he sat across from. The actress and the reporter, they were both easy on the eyes, but they couldn't compete with his arm candy. Blair had insisted he meet her 'other family' over a dinner Blair prepared. He was surprised by the invitation to intrude on the infamous girl's night out, but he jumped at the chance.
Blair's beauty rivaled her brain; she knew what she wanted and went after it. He knew modern men that were fine with allowing their women to be more aggressive. He didn't consider himself one of them. The perk of being on the arm of Blair Warner was only surpassed by her last name and both made up for her other faults.
They had all convened to a round dinner table Natalie and Tootie talking conspiratorially like teenagers sharing gossip. Blair watched them endearingly, her arm wrapped around her new beau.
Natalie was a reporter for the Times. She was stuck on the finance circuit hungry for something grittier as she liked to say. Dorothy was an actress he recognized in a save the arts commercial and made for TV movies.
"I think all this girl talk is boring Randall," Dorothy pointed out.
Randall shrugged his shoulders, "not at all. Forgive me but I grew up with the idea that women traded compliments to insult each other. It's an adjustment."
"Oh, sounds like our Eastland days," Blair glowed with nostalgia.
Natalie smirked, "oh yea," she continued, "That was the only full contact sport Blair considered civilized enough to play."
Randall smiled curiously, "full contact?"
Tootie stepped in lightly shoving her best friend, "it's not as hands on as Nat makes it sound."
"Nothing like girl on girl action mind you," Natalie explained, she ignored the two glares focused on the only face eating this up. She enjoyed attentive listeners. "I meant metaphorically. Girls never walk the same after one round with Blair."
"Natalie you make it sound as if I were some school yard bully," she pointed out incredulously.
Randall felt left out with the knowing look each woman exchanged. The feeling grew even more when they burst out laughing. He smiled appropriately confused.
Randall, as the minority, spent most of his time observing as it was hard to get a word in. The night for the most part became the Tootie and Natalie show. When the two of them were together, it was as if the last few years of adulthood were the dream and they were back in school. Blair delighted in the proverbial blast from the past. It made resenting the absence of a certain Bronx native easier. It would also prompt a visit from a very vexed former roommate.
She walked Tootie and Natalie to the door promising them a lunch later in the week. She wouldn't interrogate them about how they felt about her 'friend' just yet. Closing the door behind the duo she returned to see Randall waiting for her on the couch her friends had vacated.
"Thank you."
She curved her head curiously at the statement.
"For this," he motioned around the absent room, "the whole evening," he explained. He rose easily from the couch and headed over to where she stood only half inside the room. He closed the inordinately large gap to mere inches.
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself Nat and Tootie can be a handful," she smiled endearingly. Her friends were an extension of a side of Blair very few people were privileged to glimpse. Randall had been a kind, intelligent, and smart addition the exclusive group of people she considered friends. They spent a lot of time together. They could talk about poetry, art, books, and business. Blair hadn't realized how much she enjoyed talking about those things until she actually had someone to.
The evening held a lot of expectations for them. Randall wanted to mature their physical relationship. She wanted to take her time. It was so long since had played the game, but she fell in step quick enough. Like riding a bike, she smiled at the adage until she realized her smile may have been misread by her companion. His eyes darkened and all it took was a step and a lean and his lips would be on hers.
"Well that was delicious!" Natalie yelled unnecessarily to the rest of the occupants as she came back inside.
Randall stepped away. Blair smirked at the shadow of aggravation over his normally glowing face. She turned her head slightly, "you turning in?" she asked Natalie before she headed down the hall to her room.
"Yea," she exaggerated her show of fatigue.
"Goodnight," Randall nodded, "I should be going," he volunteered collecting his things when Natalie returned the congeniality and headed to her room.
She knew all she had to do was object and he would stay. They spent some nights together. Nothing went beyond kissing and him holding her. Although his darkened looks of lust were becoming frequent reminders of the consequence of her proximity. She never feared he would be anything more than a gentleman. Though she didn't want to be the object of resentment, she cared for him. If things were different she would have asked him to stay and given in the way he wished. If things were different she would have been eagerly courted, engaged, and negotiating an amicable seating list for the reception to their wedding.
He took her in his arms holding her close to him. He ducked his head to plant a chaste but gentle kiss on her cheek. "You charm me with your company, I initiate intimacy, and you pull the roommate card," he kept his tone playful.
Blair pulled back, "Randall…"
He interrupted her with a kiss. She responded to it only to pull back all too soon. A hand brushed up against her face. His eyes were closed, too transfixed with sensations, which eyes would dull with the reality of his situation. He had fallen for an unattainable woman that loved him to an extent. Efforts like tonight, where she shared more of herself, gave him hope. Like a double edged sword he knew after her contribution she would withdraw.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening Miss Warner," he whispered. He pulled her with him as he walked to the door and in a moments goodbye he was gone. She frowned truthfully wishing that things were different.
AN: This wasn't originally a multi-chapter story I just divided it up that way to make it easier to read. Also there isn't really any purpose in the way each chapter is split up and note that the scenes in the story often changes suddenly.