An accompaniment to 'Abuse of Trust' - I wondered just why Jackie would head out and collect him from the pub, I think even a wife would be a bit pissed off with that request! Though the fact Robbie calls, knowing she'll agree, says quite a lot.
A silly piece really just cos I love the image of them in that car together.
As always, comment if you have the time and I own nothing.
Abuse of Cars
It wasn't the fact that he had the cheek to call her up when he was drunk and needed a ride home, it was the fact she did it.
What other woman would drop whatever she was doing and race over there to drive home some drunken idiot who was old enough to know better.
She was a fool, she knew it, and he probably knew it too, despite his drunken, giddy state.
She had been lying on the couch when he called, snuggled up in a heavy blanket, with a glass of wine in one hand and the remote in the other. It had become something of a habit; if she ever did meet anyone special enough to warrant spending her life with she wondered how she'd learn to share both the couch and the remote.
Still, as it was, she'd answered without a second thought, figuring he'd got some joke or other to share with her. Or some scandalous event he'd witnessed, or been part of, either way it would make her laugh. He always managed to do that.
"Jackie, you gotta help me." Was his opening gambit, like he'd been attacked or lost a leg in a freak accident.
She sat up abruptly, spilling her wine, "What's wrong? You alright?"
"I'm out here, the boss sent me..."
"...You're still at the pub!" She interrupted, it was daylight when he went, it was far from that now. "What the bloody hell have you been doing? In fact don't tell me, I can tell from the slurring."
"I drove."
He hardly need explain any further, a few begging lines about her being his only real friend who would come and fetch him and his beloved new car. Within ten minutes she'd rung a taxi, and was dressing herself again, her warm hideaway abandoned for the frosty Glaswegian air.
There'd been a few hoots and howls as she went in, she was used to being the only woman in a man's world though and kept her face calm and composed, even when Robbie grabbed her and gave a smacker on the cheek. "Aye you're a good un Jacks," he slurred by her ear, his arm draped over her shoulders.
"Thanks very much," she helped him out to the car and let him drop into the leather seat before she slammed the door on him.
She had to admit, it was a nice drive though, smooth, cool, charming... just like its owner.
"You're going the right way for a slap." She told him as they'd taken a left at the roundabout.
"No offence meant."
"Oh no, only that I have little going on in my life so I might as well chauffeur an aging drunk about."
"Not aging, permanently middle-aged." He sat back in his chair, trying to keep his head still. "Slow down a bit Jacks, feeling that last heavy returning."
"Charming, and on your fine leather seats."
"She's a beauty." He said rubbing the dashboard.
"Jammy bastard," she muttered.
"You like it really; you can admit it now, in the privacy of these four wheels."
She did like it. She wasn't going to admit it though. She wasn't going to admit that she fancied racing about it during the summer months, with the wind roaring through her hair. Or the fact that the possibility was about as likely to happen as a lottery win.
She was more concerned with the fact that these leather seats would be a great turn on for some hot young thing he managed to pick up, and the image of him writhing about in the back seat with her drove her to the very edge of jealousy.
No point in jealousy after all these years.
No point in jealousy when the man you loved saw you as nothing more than a friend.
Well, you can't force attraction. She always told herself; though there were times she'd caught him looking at her and wondered...
"Silence..." he said after a while, and she realised she had been, musing.
"Are you going to pay for my taxi home?" She asked abruptly as they reached his street.
"Yeah, sure. Come in, have last drink of the night with me."
"Are you sure you can handle anymore?" She turned into the reserved parking.
He laughed, a deep throaty laugh, "I thought you were going to ask if I could handle you!" He laughed again, drunkenly, "if these years have taught me anything it's no, I can't."
She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not. She yanked hard on the handbrake either way.
"Good ay?"
She shrugged, "It drives okay. I guess. For a piece of eye-candy."
"It's what makes the world go round," he rested his hand atop of hers and she felt her pulse quicken. "Come have a drink, at least come inside to call a taxi and wait. Don't wanna seeya on the street corner."
"Ha bloody ha," she jerked her hand free and got out, locking up after him and watching as he stumbled towards the elevator.
Again she wondered, for possibly the millionth time in her life, what was it about Robbie Ross that drove her to distraction? This drunken idiot with a taste for all that's bad, the headstrong, act before you think guy who used her as a personal service, who never showed signs of real love or hinted at a possible relationship.
Why was it she just couldn't get him out of her head... or heart?
Why was it she'd leave her home late at night to get a taxi across the city just so he didn't have to leave his car outside a pub?
"Hey gorgeous," he called from the elevator. "Hurry up, and I'll treat you to one of my famous late-night pasta dishes."
"You can't cook." She grumbled back at him, but inside she skipped with a sense of hope. Tonight she got to be the woman who accompanied him to his flat and shared his humour and his warmth and his scent. Tonight she could pretend... just for a while.
She stepped inside and stood slightly in front of him, "It better be worth it. Pasta stays on my hips."
He pressed the floor button and leant his chin on her shoulder as the doors closed, "Thanks for picking me up babe, you're a diamond." He kissed her cheek.
She turned her head slightly, "And you're an old charmer."
And just as she said it an alarm resounded throughout the complex.
"That bloody car!"