Fire And Rain
Disclaimer: Let's see, what don't I own? PJ, Tatiana, Maggie, Jo, Mt Thomas, the other "her" in here, the brilliant song... Probably more, but can't think of anything else...

A/N: So, this was inspired by a pub caled PJ Gallagher that I saw during February (while on Tattoo, come to think of it), though I had thought of the couple before that. Around the same time, I found out that Martin was leaving (which upset me HEAPS) so this began. It got finished this weekend for two reasons- It's now May, and PJ leaves sometime this month and I got assesments again, so writing is happening.

So, this is my version of how PJ should leave (as much as it pains me as a T/J fan but Jonesy is seeming to be ready to move on which I don't like because I don't really like Susie... not that I watch religiously anymore...


The first time he heard the song on the radio was the day after the shooting. He had been driving in a blur and ended up some three hundred ks away from home. He'd turned on the radio in a desperate attempt to erase the memory in his mind, if only for a minute, a second. Tried to erase the feel of her dead weight in his arms. The warmth of her blood across his chest and arms.

Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone.

Suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you.

I walked out this mornin', and I wrote down this song;

I just can't remember who to send it to.

He'd eventually made his way back to the station and life, the pieces of his heart slowly fusing back together. One morning, he'd woken up and didn't reach for her. That reaction had upset him almost as much the previous mornings had.

I've seen fire, and I've seen rain.

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,

But I always thought that I'd see you again.

It came over the pub stereo again the night after Jo's kidnapping. He heard it playing when he walked in from outside, his mind reeling while Tatiana revealed to him what was at the back of him mind, but he'd left there, unwilling to address the issue.

Won't you look down upon me Jesus?

You gotta help me make a stand.

You just got to see me through another day.

My body's achin', and my time is at hand.

I won't make it any other way.

They'd been out on a case when someone turned the radio. The song was halfway through, and he knew. He knew something was wrong. He couldn't explain it to anyone else. By the time they turned the street to get back to the station, his mind was reeling with possibilities. None of them were anywhere near as bad as what he found.

I've seen fire, and I've seen rain.

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,

But I always thought that I'd see you again.

After the funeral, he walked with less vigour, did his work with less enthusiasm and spent the nights recalling all the words he'd ever said to hurt her. He couldn't help reliving the moment he made the split second decision not to take her into his arms and tell her that he actually did love her, that he could never live without her, and that he didn't want to waste any of more time, would she marry him?

Been walkin' my mind to an easy time,

My back turned towards the sun.

Lord knows when the cold wind blows,

It'll turn your head around.

He came to the conclusion that his love life was cursed when he next heard the song. He was busy reflecting on that fact when she had called. It was for something trivial, mainly because she needed to hear a voice that was familiar, and talk to someone who could respond to all she said. She needed to talk to someone who was over the age of three and he'd once told her that she could ring and talk any time, day or night, when the need arose. Mind you, the deal went both ways, and that night she found herself listening to a very upset and almost suicidal PJ.

Well there's hours of time on the telephone line

To talk about things to come:

Sweet dreams and flying machines

In pieces on the ground.

Their friendship had grown, leading to large phone bills and long conversations after her son had fallen asleep. They talked for hours about anything and everything. He began to think of them as the best part of his life, falling into an almost domestic routine, cooking dinner while talking to her on the phone while she cooked dinner at the other end. He spent his weekends he wasn't on call with her and her small son, watching as he took his first steps, said his first word and began making mischief that only a two year old could think of.

I've seen fire, and I've seen rain.

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,

But I always thought that I'd see you again.

One day, she'd rung him at work, in tears. She was at the hospital, with Mike in a bed, fighting for his life. He'd dropped everything, barely even said anything about where he was going and left. As he drove like a man possessed, he refrained from turning the radio on, scared that if he did, he'd hear what he didn't want to and it'll all end… again. When she clung to him, afraid that he'd leave and she'd be alone, they both realised. What could have been a moment of hope, love and romance, the song began again and she felt him stiffen, worried that he would loose the boy he considered his own.

I've seen fire, and I've seen rain.

I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end.

I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend,

But I always thought that I'd see you again.

The doctor arrived then with good news. The two of them remained in the waiting room, tense, as the little boy stabilised. In that waiting room, he declared his love against her hair. She'd surprised him by mirroring his words. A week later, after Mike was allowed home, he'd handed in his notice, determined that he wouldn't let her go, not this one. He had hope for a family, for love and for happiness that he wasn't going to miss out on, not this time. They both had pasts, but this time, he felt it was different. This time, when the song played, he smiled, remembering all that it had meant to him in the past, and what it meant now, for them both. It no longer signified the ones that got away.

It symbolised the one that stayed. Forever, he hoped.


A/N: Just in case all the hints didn't work, the woman is Tess, and she had a son. All the other fics I've written (the TJ ones) have had her have a daughter, so I thought I'd break with my tradition and give her a son. So, people, REVIEW... and we'll see what I can do about MBOC and Forgive. Oh, re reviews from My Regrets

jakc: YAY! Someone else who's kinda anti Susie... and sorry, don't kill me for this one... A-for making it non-TJ and B- for writing out PJ

Brindabella: The tattoo thing came from another fic I read somewhere. Yes, yes they were sharing draws, but that wouldn't have had a TJ ending... which wasn't original... original ending included Susie committing suicide...

jelly-belly-babe: Wow, thats for that review... makes me happy to see that I've captured a character who I hardly watch anymore... or to begin with either.

LieutenantjgMegAusin: Damn name... I didn't kill him, its ok, he's still alive...

maggielovespj: short but sweet review...