II

Dawn spread through the dark sky like wildfire, soon filling the sky with a colour show unlike any other in the world. And each glass surface in Sydney reflected the colours right back, as the sun showed its happy face and drying away the last remains of the rain.

"So you actually worked here before?" George asked Tommy as the Nemesis sped through another wave, throwing hundreds of water drops into the air. The drops caught the sun beautifully as they fell, showering over the two new detectives temporarily assigned to the Sydney Water Police.

"I was this boat, mate," Tommy replied, looking up at the crew now steering the boat. "Rookies," he muttered, but not unfriendly.

"You knew Jack then?"

"I knew Jack."

"What did you think of him?"

"Complete likeable asshole."

"I hear ya."

"So why did you come back?" George asked as they pulled up towards HQ

"You can quit, but you can never quite leave." Tommy gave him a quick glance. "You'll understand if you stick around."

As the boat came to a standstill, Tommy stepped off first and was greeted by a cry of joy.

"Tommy!" Emma couldn't stop herself from running towards him, and couldn't care less about the strange stares the rest of the divers were giving her.

She was just so glad to see an old face return unscathed, unharmed and somewhat content. She threw herself into his arms and he let himself hold her tight and they span around a few times.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see George looking on. He smiled at her and nodded slightly. She smiled back at him and she was just glad that he would be able to understand. It wasn't going to be awkward.

Emma buried her face in Tommy's shoulder and they just relaxed into each other for a few moments before strolling up to the station reminiscing about old times – happy times…

And then George joined them, laughing at the stories realising that one day he too would be a part of them

II

"Hey Gav, Helen," Mick called out, as he walked into the room. Eva gave him a smile, then returned her attention to the small bundle. Helen too, was completely engrossed in the little baby.

"Hey Mick. Heard you were cooped up here too," Gavin replied, keeping with the light tone.

"Yeah. They just let me go. I heard Tommy and Tayler were in here yesterday."

"Oh yeah, it was almost like.." the sentence hung unfinished in the air. It would never again be like "old times".

"You remember Rachel?" Mick asked softly, "I've been thinking a lot about her lately."

"Me too. She and Frank, man, they were the Water Police for so long.."

"I never knew Frank that well."

"That's because you couldn't handle a beer, Reilly," Frank's dry voice remarked as the man himself stepped into the room from the doorway where he'd been listening. For a moment anyone in the room were too surprised to say anything.

"Francis James Holloway!" Helen exclaimed, so much in the exact same tone as Rachel would have used that Frank for a moment seemed off balance. Even Helen jumped a little at the sound of her own voice.

"Hey Helen," he finally said, in such a soft voice she wondered if she wasn't just hallucinating after all.

"Where the HELL have you been?" she replied, trying to regain some composure. She was faring better than the boys, she noted smugly, both Mick and Gavin looked as if they had seen a ghost.

"Sailing the great seas.." he smiled widely, but even in his smile Helen saw a hint of resigned sadness, the kind that stays with you forever. She wondered just what Rachel's death had done to him, and what it had done to her. It seemed like yesterday now, that she had seen the look on Rachel's face after Frank had sailed away.

"You never rang me back."

"I.." his voice faltered a bit. "I couldn't believe Rachel was gone.."

"Me neither.." staggering onto her feet, Helen felt tears emerging again, but not the mindless, senseless tears she'd cried at the funeral. These were real, liberating tears. Frank embraced her, and she could feel his own quiet crying.

"I'm sorry about Jack too, but if you repeat that to anyone, I'll never forgive you," he whispered, and she had to smile despite the tears.

Gavin and Mick finally had enough sense to close their mouths and pick up their eyes from the floor. Eva just smiled in the corner, quietly rocking her child.

II

Sunshine greeted Mick as he pushed the hospital doors open. He knew Alex wasn't gonna like that he wandered off on his own, but he had to get some air. He had to get out, and besides, Alex had ran off without telling him where she was going. The erotic dream he'd had about her, hadn't exactly improved his resolve to stay away.

"Mick!" He turned to see Frank walking out, looking quite thoughtful.

"It's been a while," Mick forced himself to say as Frank walked up.

"Yeah, half the bloody Station has changed," Frank muttered, then quickly changing the topic. "I understand you have a guy after you."

"Yeah." As Mick said it, he felt something slowly resurface from the back of his mind. There had been something wrong about this from the start. Something not quite right. He could feel it was there, hovering just out of reach.

Something he had heard as he had been in a drug-instated haze. Something important. Something about a woman. It was painful to try and remember, but he kept on, pushing away the hazed layers.

"Sophie!" he cried out, his mind suddenly racing. "He was talking to Sophie! Shit! No wonder we haven't found him."

Frank looked like a question mark, but knew enough about the way cops minds works to ask any questions.

"You have a car here?" Mick asked urgently.

"Yeah.. this way."

"I'll drive," Mick said absentmindedly, thinking it as best since he knew the way. He missed the range of emotions flickering over Frank's face; sadness, resignation, determination. He simply tossed the keys over to the younger man, wondering how many times he'd done that with Goldie.

He shook the memory away, it would be plenty of time for that when darkness fell and the demons came out from the dark corners of his mind.

Getting in the car, Frank glanced over at Mick, remembering the cheerful, bright young man he and Rachel had been burdened with. They'd had some fun. He chuckled softly at the thought of Mick's hangover face back then – it suddenly felt so very long ago.

"I bet whatever money I have in the bank they're at Jack's."

"Done," Frank replied as they sped away, leaving a trail of dry dust. Mick kept his focus on the road, a dreaded feeling he would be too late. He could do nothing right, it seemed. Bloody hell. If Sophie was hurt, if..

Squeezing in between two cars he sped on before finally pulling up at Jack's place. Sophie had temporarily moved in there to sort through all the stuff Jack had left her. The motorcycle in the driveway caused him to nearly panic.

He didn't even have a bloody gun. Bloody smart thinking. But beside him, Frank had quietly taken his old gun out of the holster.

"You're back in the Force?"

"For a little while," Frank simply answered, as they walked up to the open door.

"In here," they suddenly heard Sophie's voice. She didn't sound scared or anxious, but something was amiss, Mick could feel it. And as he walked into the kitchen and saw the body, he knew who it was. Frank was on the phone in a matter of seconds.

"He came over this morning," Sophie said in a slow, dull voice. "I shot him with his own gun. It's there. He said he wanted revenge. But he didn't really. He just wanted to escape the pain."

Mick stared at her, slowly leaning against the kitchen counter. He felt tired, so very tired.

"Did you call him or he call you?"

She looked up at him with an unreadable expression. In it he saw the same look he had seen when Jack had been so bent on finding Rachel's killer. It frightened him.

"What do you think?" she simply answered.

II

The cemetery was quiet, even the nearby cars seemed to make less noise as they drove by. Or maybe it was just an illusion, to lure you into thinking the dead really are at peace.

"No jury will punish her, mate, even if she called him and initiated the meeting," Frank said quietly as they walked among the erect gravestones.

"There are other punishments than the law," Mick muttered, looking down at his hands. As they walked closer to the grave they were headed for, he had to fight a stronger and stronger urge to turn around and walk back.

And as they approached Rachel's grave, he suddenly noticed someone else sitting by it. It was Alex, the sun lighting up her hair like it was gold.

"Alex," he indicated to Frank. "What's she doing here?"

"Let me talk to her, mate," Frank suggested, "It's time I met the infamous Alex St. Clare. I hear she is quite a catch."

Mick met his glare with as such cool as he could. The older man smiled knowingly, then began to walk forward. After a few steps he stopped and turned.

"You won the bet. I don't have that much money, but.. I have the Footloose. I won't be sailing again. Take her."

Mick tried to voice a protest, but Frank plunged right ahead, paying no heed.

"You can take your partner sailing. She'll like that." Staring into the horizon he added almost soundlessly. "I know she would have."

Then he resumed his walking.

Alex heard the approaching footsteps, and glanced up at the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

"She was a great copper," the blue eyes said, looking at Alex with an unreadable expression, but she had a feeling she was being graded in some way.

"So I hear," she replied, getting up. They stared at the grave for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

"You're Frank Holloway," she suddenly said, knowing it to be true even before she saw his reaction. He shuffled his feet, looking everywhere but at her.

"I've been around a while," he said after a moments silence, "I tried coming by the office a thousand times, but then I realised I wouldn't be seeing Rachel, I would be.."

"Seeing me," she finished.

"Yeah."

"I never knew her, but I've been living in her shadow since I came," she said bitterly. Frank shook his head.

"Only if you choose to." He gave her a smile that convinced her Rachel Goldstein had been a woman with not too bad taste in men after all.

"I'd been meaning to leave this letter here forever," he continued, holding out a crumbled piece of paper.

"You loved her," she said quietly.

"You loved him. Jack, I mean."

"I don't know." She shrugged helplessly. "I felt to torn between him and Mick, and now I might loose Mick too and I can't, I can't.." To her desperation tears began to form in her eyes, hot, angry tears that seemed to burn her skin. She pushed them back desperately, she couldn't crumble here, not in front of bloody legend Frank Holloway.

A piece of paper was suddenly pushed into her hands, and without even thinking, she read the first sentence. And even though she knew it was not really meant for her, she kept on reading until there were no more words.

Hey Rach,

This must be the 4th letter I have started. Funny how I didn't get the determination to finish it until it can never be sent.. but I'm writing it anyway, you know, just for the heck of it. I think I just need to say it, to have said it..

I'm not making much sense, am I? Well, that's okay, you always seemed to understand anyway. Words were never my strong side.. I have rehearsed a thousand speeches to win you over, but somehow they always ended up unspoken.

At least now I don't have to worry about you laughing it off.

That was a sick joke.. I always seemed to pull those around you.. probably cos I had to say something fast before how I really felt slipped out of me.

Cos I loved you. There, I've written it, and it will always be on the paper, and nothing can change that. I don't know if you felt the same way.. guess I'll never know now. It doesn't really matter, I just wanted you to know because the words have been burning on my tongue for so long.. I just had to.

Helen called me and told. But I already knew in a way.. when I sailed off, and turned to wave at ya, I had this strange feeling it was the last time I'd see you. And it was. When I heard Helen's voice, I knew something had happened.

I miss you. Life seems.. less now that you're not here. I may have sailed away, but it was knowing you'd be still there, and when I got back.. maybe.. Well, I heard about Jack, so I guess not. I knew you'd meet someone.. But really, Jack? Couldn't you have picked someone better? I mean, really.. Well, I suppose it's your choice.

I think I've met someone too.. she's from Venezuela.. remember how you joked about that? She's nice, and I like her.. but she's not you Rach. That was always the fault in the women I dated.. they were great, but they weren't you.

A little too late for that admission now, but I wanted you to know. I hope you enjoy yourself up there.. And know that I miss you. I have been a good boy lately too.. So, I just wanted you to know I'll be joining you, but in the meantime, the days seem to stretch on forever.

Looking up, she started to ask him why he'd given her that, but the question died on her lips when she saw that Frank was no longer there, almost as if he'd never been there at all.

She wondered if she'd dreamed it all. But then she realised she was still holding Frank's letter. For a second she wondered what to do with it. Then she put it down gently by the gravestone, right next to the red rose. It didn't belong to her.

"Alex?"

Turning, she saw Mick standing a few feet away, his face drawn and tired. Still, he looked beautiful, a mild wind gently stroking his hair.

And it seemed only natural to fall into his embrace.

II

Epilogue

Thunderous applause greeted Helen as she walked into the Water Police HQ flanked by Jeff, who joined in vigorously. She smiled despite herself, feeling like a million bucks. It was always good to be appreciated. Having been gone for the last few weeks, they'd probably forgotten to fear her. No worries, she'd fix that fairly quickly. As the applause died down, Jeff gently guided her through the little crowd.

"I've given Alex and Mick a leave for a couple of weeks. It will do them good. They might even cool off," Jeff added, then saw Helen's look.

"What, you didn't think I noticed? I had a leg injury, not a head injury."

"Tommy and George should do nicely in the meantime," she replied, avoiding to answer the question. "If you still want some time off Jeff, Frank might be able.."

"Frank might be able to do what?"

"He could fill in here. He got promoted, and I'll only be working half-time.."

"You're telling me Holloway was promoted?" Jeff stared at her in disbelief.

"He apparently helped solve a major drug case in New Zealand.."

"Holloway.." Jeff shook his head. "God help us all."

Helen chuckled softly as they walked up the stairs.

Life went on. It as all it knew how to do.

II

It was finally clean. Frank looked around with a sense of satisfied exhaustion. He'd cleaned every corner, every floor, every surface of his house, and it was shining with cleanness. Rachel would have been proud.

She wouldn't have showed it, but she would have been. God, he missed her. It had been years, and he still missed her. He'd had a few relationships since they had waved their goodbyes, but whenever it got serious, he had left.

Some people never let you go. And after he'd accepted that, he'd felt strangely calm. The thought of seeing Alex in Rachel's chair had no longer seemed suffocating. So here he was, surrounded by new and old faces, back in the Force and even bloody promoted.

It felt good and heartbreakingly sad at the same time. There was the couch they'd been sitting on so many times, the kitchen where he'd nearly kissed her, the door she had knocked on some many times… Hundreds of memories, all there. Opening the window, he looked out at the sea. Somewhere out there Mick and Alex would be sailing, like he and Rach should have.

"Hey Rach," he said aloud, "I'm home."

And the wind brushed past him, kissing him lightly.

II

It was a brilliant day at sea, the sun shining so strongly the water seemed to be golden. It was hard to look to for long, but every now and then Alex would crack open an eye to throw a quick glance around.

Her body was warm and comfortable, a mild wind caressing the places Mick wasn't slowly stroking. The boat was moving slowly with the waves, lulling her into an almost trance-like calm state.

They were lying on the deck of the Footloose, anchored off not too far away from the coast. She could see the reflection of the sun on some windows ashore, and the fast moving cars on the highway. She counted a few as Mick traced a slow pattern on her back. He repeated the pattern again, and she realised he was writing letters.

She said aloud each letter as he continued until he'd finished the entire sentence. Putting the words together, she shook her head in disbelief.

"You're a pig, Michael," she laughed, "No way are we doing that!"

He traced another word on her back, this time he let his lips follow. She was still shaking her head, but less vigorously now. He knew he'd win her over. Finally, as he reached the back of her neck, the headshake was gone.

Instead she pulled his body on top of hers, admiring his upper body with her eyes and her hands. His skin was almost so hot it was painful to touch. Leaning on his elbows, he was busy tracing the outlines of her breasts. It occurred to her they could stay like this forever, just rocking in the waves, paying no attention to the world outside.

Then a pained expression came over Mick, and she realised immediately what he was thinking off. He attempted to pull back, but she clung onto him until he finally gave up and cried softly against her shoulder. It was the first time he had since Jack had died.

As she held onto him, she reached for the paper she had been writing on, looking at the words scrambled down with an unsteady hand.

Dear Jack..

I think I could have loved you. I just have to say it, one way or another, so I can deal with it and move on. We probably never would have made it. Some loves are meant to be followed, some live best in silence and without action. I think that was the kind of love we would have had. If we ever managed to agree on something long enough.

Still I will never know, and I will have to live with that.

I miss you.

Alex

And slowly, very slowly, she lifted the letter and let it drift away with the wind.

It wasn't the end of the story. The story would go on as life went on. But she felt like something had been finished, something had ended. Just what, she wasn't sure. There was still a long way to go. They both had guilt to wrestle with, and work would be complicated and it might not even work out. Hell, the odds weren't exactly in their favour.

But if they didn't try, they'd never know. That's what Frank had been telling her. Rachel hadn't chosen Jack over Frank, and she wasn't choosing Mick over Jack. You take what life gives you.

It was as good as a conclusion she would get, she figured.

FIN