Nowhere to Run
Chapter 6 of 10
by Vanessa
[nemesis@graffiti.net]
6 August - 5 September 1999
Water Police HQ
Tommy Tavita burst into the office, dressed in street clothes and full of energy. "Who's coming for drinks?"
Tayler's eyes automatically flew to Gavin, and she tried to come up with a plausible excuse. "Ah, not me. Sorry, Tommy, I'm... just having a quiet night at home tonight."
"I've got a date," Sykes announced. Part-truth, he figured.
"You know, I don't believe either of you," Tommy told them, not seeing the worried glance they exchanged. "And I'll have you know, you two are entirely replaceable as my friends -- I had a very nice constable helping me on the boats today..."
"Female, of course," Tayler guessed.
"That is irrelevant, Johnson," Tommy replied.
"So, have you asked her out yet?" Gavin inquired.
"None of your business, Syksie."
Tayler and Gavin exchanged a knowledgable glance, then said in unison: "She said no."
Tommy looked offended. "What would you know? I'll bet you're lying about having a date tonight, Gavin."
"I think you're both deluding yourselves if you believe that any woman would actually have the bad taste and low standards to want to go out with you," Tayler said cheekily. Gavin looked genuinely hurt for a second, but she didn't notice. "And since shift's over, I'm off. See you both later." With that, she left. Tommy turned back to Gavin.
"Do you really have a date tonight?"
Gavin grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he replied enigmatically. "Enjoy the pub."
Upstairs
"Helen, Helen!" Rachel called, jogging down the hallway to catch up to her friend. "You got a minute?"
"I've got a few hours -- I'm off duty as of half a minute ago," Blakemore replied.
"Uniforms," Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes teasingly. "I promise I won't keep you long, but I just need you to look up the details of that guy who was in here earlier, the one with the stolen car."
"Ah..." Helen tried to remember the man in question. "That would be Mr Dawson, had his car stolen from the marina?"
"Yep, that's the one," Rachel confirmed. "Jack and I are still working on the ferry kidnapping and we've got a description of what could be the getaway car. It's vague, but..."
"Still worth following up?" Helen suggested.
The detective nodded. "The car's the only lead we've got, unless Dave pulls something off the dive gear... don't like his chances, though." She sighed.
"Right, well I'll check this out for you. When did he say the car was stolen?"
"Aw..." Rachel struggled to recall. "Wait, I remember. That was one thing I thought was really strange -- he had no idea. Said he was away or something, I don't know, and left his car parked there for days."
"Some people, hey?" Helen said.
"Yeah, talk about asking for it."
"Well, I'll call him for you. Now, shouldn't you be going somewhere?" Helen said.
"Huh?" replied Rachel, confused.
"Frank," her friend reminded her.
"Oh, shit! Oh, no..." Rachel's hand flew to her mouth in horror. "I was so busy trying to get Jack back on side that I forgot... and he thinks I'm going out with him tonight."
"Well, who would you rather spend the night with?"
"I can't decide that!" Rachel said, exasperated. "I'm going to have to go with both of them..."
"Have fun," Helen said wryly.
"Come with me," Rachel begged.
"Not on your life!"
"Please? You know how much they hate each other..."
"Yes, I do, that's exactly my reasoning," Helen replied. Seeing the pleading look on her friend's face, however, she gave in. "All right. I'll come. But if there's any bloodshed, I'm leaving."
"Thanks, Helen," Rachel replied, entirely grateful. "You're a legend."
Helen smiled at the compliment. "You know what?" she began, then stopped. Goldstein looked at her curiously. "Ah, never mind."
what do you do when you're all alone?
do you stare out the window when I'm on the phone?
how do you feel when I get in the way?
when you tell me to go, do you want me to stay?
breathe me in and hold me there,
say that you'll never let me go...Johnson's Apartment
7:30pmGavin stood on Tayler's doorstep, jogging on the spot to keep himself warm as he waited for her to answer the door. After her remarks at the station earlier, he was half-afraid she'd decided to ditch him. Fortunately, she finally arrived, swinging the front door open to greet him.
"Sorry," she apologised. "I'm a bit disorganised."
"No problem. Did you decide where we're going?"
"Yep." She grinned impishly. "Come in."
He raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "You cooked?"
"The deal was dinner on me, right?" Immediately after she said the words, she realised how the phraseology made it sound and blushed. To his credit, Gavin pretended not to notice.
"I wanted a five star restaurant!" he complained. "Cheapskate."
"Ah, but the service at 'Chez Johnson' surpasses that of any fancy restaurant," Tayler bantered playfully.
"It had better. This is pay back, remember?"
"Syksie, I transformed two-minute noodles into an art form," she proclaimed. "Now get inside before I freeze to death!"
Past the point of freezing himself, Gavin was only too happy to get inside the warm apartment. While Tayler disappeared into the kitchen to get their food, he found his way to the dining table. She'd set two places for them already, and adorned the table with flowers and candles.
"Nice set up you've got here," Gavin called to her approvingly. "Are you going to light the candles?"
"Hadn't planned on it. They're just decoration, really," she said, arriving from the kitchen with dinner just in time to see Gavin lighting the candles in question. "Or you could light them anyway."
"Glad we're agreed," he grinned.
"Hrm," was Tayler's response. "Eat."
"What is it?" Gavin asked, looking at the plate she'd placed in front of him.
"Good old-fashioned Aussie steak, with a few added touches."
Satisfied that it seemed edible, Gavin sat and ate as he was ordered to. After the first mouthful, he concluded that she *could* cook, and quickly devoured his meal. Tayler watched him amusedly.
"If that's how you normally eat, I'm glad I didn't opt for a restaurant," she remarked. "I'd be broke by the end of the night."
Gavin fixed her with a look of mock hurt. "Are you calling me a pig?" he inquired, exuding innocence like a schoolboy.
"Not calling..."
"Oooh... you're in for it big, Johnson." Seeing her plate, which still contained a substantial quantity of food, he did the only thing he could think of -- made a grab for it. Tayler tried to ward him off, but he succeeded in capturing a potato. She'd been just about to eat it, too.
"Give it back," she demanded.
"Am I still a pig?"
"Definitely," she replied. Gavin made threatening motions towards the potato with his knife, so she quickly tried another tactic. "Okay, okay, you're a pig, I don't care, you can take my food. But not the potato -- I'll trade you for some beans."
"What is this, hostage negotiation?"
Impulsively, Tayler tried to reach across the table and reclaim her potato, but knocked over one of the candles in the process. Gavin tried to catch it, but the flames got his right hand and he jumped back. The offending candle landed on the table, burning the tablecloth.
"Gavin!" Tayler exclaimed. "Are you okay?"
"The table!" he pointed out, nursing his hand.
"Oh!" She went into crisis management mode, grabbing a throw rug from the couch and using it to smother the flames. The result was a slightly wrecked scene, but the table wasn't too badly burnt. Confident that her house wasn't in any danger of burning down, she returned her attention to Gavin.
"Show me your hand," she commanded.
"It's fine!"
Stubbornly, she took a hold of his arm and forced him to let her inspect it. It wasn't burnt severely, but she knew it would become a lot worse if left untreated. Keeping a firm grip on his arm, she dragged him into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Cold water," she explained, turning the tap up high and shoving his hand under. "Don't argue with me, Syksie."
"I'm not that stupid," he remarked. "But this is really cold."
"It'll help. Do you want to be desk-bound again?"
"I don't mind it so much when I'm desk-bound with you," he replied playfully. Tayler looked like she had a reply to that but chose not to offer it. After a couple of minutes, she turned the tap off.
"That should be okay now. How does it feel?"
"Freezing. Numb. Here," to demonstrate, he placed his palm against her cheek. She shivered, but didn't shy away as he'd expected she might, looking straight into his eyes. Turning his hand over, he stroked her face with the back of his fingers.
"Hey, Gav..." she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah?" His reply was equally soft, and he continued caressing her cheek.
"I, uh--" She stopped abruptly, words failed her. But she knew an easier way to express her feelings -- she took a step closer to him and captured his mouth in a kiss. Gavin responded eagerly and all thoughts of candles, potatoes, and burn remedies were soon forgotten....
we stumble in a tangled web,
decaying friendships almost dead
and hide behind a mask of lies
we twist and turn and we avoid,
all hope of salvage now devoid
I see the truth inside your eyes
so take all this noise into your brain
and send it back again
I'll bear the cost, shed my skin,
call you up and then...
I'll say the words out loudThe Pub
She was in hell. Most definitely. Helen had arrived first, then Jack, and finally Frank -- who was rather surprised to see the others there. Both men were disappointed -- jealous, even, despite Rachel's earlier assurances on the contrary to Jack -- and Goldie had spent the whole evening so far trying to find some safe topic of conversation. Even Helen was uncomfortable with the situation.
Jack rose, excusing himself to get another round of drinks. Frank seized the opportunity to try and get himself out of the situation.
"Hey, Helen, whaddya say we blow this place off and go pick up a couple of sheilas together?" he suggested lightly.
"Frank," Rachel protested. "Stay."
"Rachel, you don't need me here -- you don't want me here. It's better if we -- I -- just leave, and you and Jack can go... Whatever." He stood, almost challenging her to stop him going. She rose to it.
"I do want you," she said, grabbing him by the arm and looking him dead in the eye. "Stay, please?"
"Rachel... I can't. I just -- it's not my place to be here, not with you and him here. I can't stay, sorry." Frank kissed Helen goodnight, then left the two women sitting there at the table, slightly taken aback. Rachel gave him about half a second's lead before following him out.
Seeing them exit, Jack returned to the table. "What's goin' on? Where'd they knick off to?"
"Uh, not sure," Helen replied. She was fairly sure Jack had seen that Rachel followed Frank, but refused to be drawn into it. It wasn't her problem, she didn't want to be a part of this triangle.
"Hm, yeah, I'll bet," Jack replied. He placed the drinks on the table then sat down beside her. After a moment, he asked, "Tell me, Blakemore -- when he's around, is it possible for her to think about anyone else?"
The sensitivity in his tone stunned Helen slightly; she'd known he cared for Rachel, but she hadn't realised how much. She just shook her head. "I don't know, Christey. I don't know."
"Me either," he muttered. "Cheers."
End Chapter 6