Bad Day
By Jaye Reid.
Written: 24.10.1999
Disclaimer: [NEWS FLASH, NEWS FLASH - We bring you urgent news of a siege situation. A group of unknown people today stormed the offices of Southern Star and have taken control of the building. They have taken hostage Hal McElroy and Southern Star executives. There motives are still unknown……. WAIT…..we have just had word in from the scene. They are willing to negotiate a transfer of the hostages. They have asked for Hal McElroy and the Executives to sign over…… the ownership of the Water Rats cast, past and present, before they will release them and surrender peacefully. They also request that each have their own computer terminal and internet access made available during there prison stay relating to the incident. As of yet we are unable to learn whether their demands are likely to me met. We will bring you more news as it comes to hand……..] g
Author's notes: This one is dedicated to that funky chick Suz. Mainly because I figured I had better write one to keep her happy or she would stop talking to me. IT'S ABOUT JACK!!
Okay Suz. can I write a few more Frank and Rachel ones now?? vbg
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Jack struggle to get the key in the front door lock. Damn security light, must be on the blink. Finally getting the door open, he flicked on the light switch.
Nothing.
Shit, must have blown a fuse. What now? Hmm, torch back in the car. He dumped his mail on the floor inside the door and headed back to his car. Bloody hell, if today hadn't been bad enough. To come home to this!
Wandering back to his car he pondered over just how shit-house his day had been.
The cause of his angst could be summed up in to words - Rachel Goldstein.
He knew that replacing Frank, permanently, would be no picnic. But hell did she have to be such a bitch about it somedays? Yesterday she was fine. They worked well together, even hit the Bar last night for a couple of drinks after work. He thought that maybe, well perhaps, she was starting to get over Frank and he might have a chance to pick up where they once left off.
He got the torch and headed back. He picked up the mail from the floor. The letter on the top was from the power company.
Friggin' hell, he thought, what was the bet that it was the overdue electricity bill?
Damn, yep it was.
He knew there was something he forgot to do last week. He decided he had better start remembering to collect his mail *every* day.
Could things really get any worse?
He threw is car keys on top of the fridge.
They slid down the back.
Yep. They could get worse.
Stuff it, they could bloody well stay there until tomorrow. No hope of getting them in the dark tonight.
He found some candles in a drawer and lit them. How romantic he thought. Except for the fact that he was alone.
What a waste!
The fridge. Hmm, only beer in it at the moment anyway. It was still cool too. He grabbed a stubbie and headed over to the couch, grabbing the remote to turn the television on.
Shit, *no* TV either.
Forgot.
No power equals no TV.
He lay back on the couch.
Yeah, Rach. He thought. What was it with her? Today was a complete contrast on yesterday. Foul tempered from the time she walked into the office in the morning, until he finally got to get out of their this afternoon. Maybe it was P.M.S.?
Woman, who could figure them out? He was beginning to think it wasn't worth the stress.
Maybe she had heard from Frank? Maybe she hadn't heard from Frank? He was at a loss. He knew they had been close.
He had debated with himself as to whether they had 'done the deed'. Frank was a fool if he didn't at least have a go at it. He guessed probably, but who knows. And he wasn't about to ask her. Shit today was bad enough and he had been *nice* to her.
Maybe the trick was not being nice?
Switch off, he told himself. If she wanted to forget that night, well fine. Her problem. Plenty more fish in the sea. He grinned at the irony, yeah, Water Police, fish in sea. Corny joke. Ha!
There was a knock at the door. What now? What more could go wrong!
He dragged himself off the couch.
The knock came again.
"Yeah, yeah, all right. Keep ya strides on!" he called.
He swung the door open. He was in no mood for Salesmen or Religious nutters.
"Yeah what?" he said in one monotone.
"Well, if it's like that Jack, I can go again," said Rachel standing there.
"Ah Rach. Sorry. Just been one of those days I guess. What are ya doin' here?"
"Well," she replied with a half grin and holding up a six pack of beer, "figured that I have probably contributed to that shit day. So are you going to invite me in or are you going to leave me standing on the doorstep to drink these by myself?"
He let her in.
Women, who could figure them?
The End.