One of Those Nights
    Just One of Those Nights
    By Camilla Sandman

    Disclaimer: So I had a drink last night, and I imagined that all these wonderful characters belonged to me, because Hal McElroy and Channel 9 had GIVEN them to me. But alas, I woke this morning with a nasty hangover and the realisation that they aren't mine, and that 10,000 elephants were having fun jumping on my brain.

    *****

    Hangover. It was a familiar enough sensation for Rachel Goldstein, but it didn't make it any more pleasant.

    "Aaaaaw, my head", she muttered, blinking and trying to focus.

    Where was that blasting sunlight coming from?! Why couldn't it be another nice, rainy, not-so-bright day?? Closing her eyes, she tried to figure out just how much she'd had to drink last night.

    She'd seemed to get most of her clothes off before getting to bed, which was a good sign. The daylight was bothering her, which was a bad sign. She was in her bedroom, definitely a good sign. Sighing, she opened her eyes, and rolled out of bed.

    "Ouch", she exclaimed, realising she'd bruised her knee during the evening before. What the hell had they been doing last night anyway?

    Without looking back, she stumbled out of the bedroom, desperately searching for some aspirin. Or pit black coffee. Anything that didn't contain milk.

    Her kitchen was a mess too, and what were her high-heals doing on the table?!?

    Vague memories of her and Frank toasting cracking the Vargas case emerged, along with.. Jack? Frank and Jack toasting? Oh, she'd have to remember that for later, in case Frank didn't, so she could remind him. And they had gone back to the office… for something..

    "Aaah, crap," she cursed, giving up on remembering for now. With any luck, both Frank and Jack would have been as blasted as her, and wouldn't remember either.

    Strangely enough there was no bottles in the kitchen, but rather everything was a little out of place. Hopefully it meant she'd realised enough was enough and headed home.

    The phone rang. Squirming, she went in the direction of the sound, stumbling over a shoe, before finally locating it in the refrigerator.

    "Rach.. umm.. Goldstein.."

    "Goldie, heya, it's Helen. You know where Jack is?"

    "Umm, no."

    "If you see him, will you tell him to call?"

    "Yeah, sure thing."

    "And Rachel..?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Hope you didn't do anything I wouldn't do last night."

    And with a small chuckle, Helen hung up.

    Tossing the cell phone back into the refrigerator , Rachel felt something emerge from her clouded mind again. The cell phone was important. She'd thrown it in there.. because.. because.. she didn't want to be disturbed? From.. something..

    She gave up. This was just gonna be one of those days. She'd just go back to bed, sleep some well-deserved sleep, and wake up without that dreadful hangover and then call Frank to tell him she remembered all from last night. Yep, that was exactly what she was gonna do.

    Stumbling back into the bedroom, she lifted the covers, crawled up under them.. and felt a cold foot against her warm thigh.

    She bolted upwards. So waking up in her own bed hadn't been such a good sign after all! She must have...

    Memories of Jack inviting her home for a "personal celebration", rose from somewhere in her mind, along with Frank… winking at her?

    "Aaaah, crap, don't tell me I bedded Jack again," she muttered, knowing she'd have to suffer from this a long time. Sighing, she lifted the covers.

    "Frank??!!" she screamed, and surely, there he was, snoring just a little bit. And as naked as the day he was born, with a giant hickey she knew she was to blame for.

    Red spots began colouring her cheeks as she remembered just what they had done last night..

    They'd ditched Jack in the bar, since after all, it was their case, and he was so drunk he couldn't stand. Then they had taken a walk on the beach, toasting nailing that wrench Francesca Vargas for killing her husband. And then she'd come up with the brilliant idea of sneaking into their office, and there they had.. Oh God...

    "On my desk??!!??" she hissed.

    And then another piece of memory got jogged too.

    "Twice???!!!!"

    And..

    "ON THE HOOD OF MY CAR?????!!!!???"

    Oh yeah. It had been one of those nights.

    Fini

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