Chapter 15: Somebody to Love

Oh Lord

Somebody - somebody

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Got no feel, I got no rhythm

I just keep losing my beat

I'm ok, I'm alright

Ain't gonna face no defeat

They hadn't planned to, but when they both came down the stationhouse stairs at the same time, off-shift at the same time, it made sense to go grab dinner together. The fact that they had shared at least one meal every day for the past three days was not mentioned. After all, people have to eat, don't they? Why not share with a friend?

Stella couldn't help but wonder about the friend part, though. She had enhanced the romance a little when she was telling Lindsay about the first "date" to try to break through Lindsay's polished and diamond-hard defenses. But she couldn't help listening to her own doubts – even during that first meal, Flack had wanted something from her, just like Frankie had, just like Mac always did. The truth was, Stella admitted, she didn't trust people easily.

"Why do you have to complicate matters so much, Stel?" she scolded herself. "He's fun, kind, thoughtful, and he seems to want to spend time with you. Don't put anything in the way of that just for the sake of a little drama. Play this out – see where it goes."

She tucked her hands into her pockets and concentrated on trying to keep up with Flack's long legs. As they turned the corner, she caught a glimpse of Mac opening his car door to let Peyton in, and she waited for the familiar tug of confused emotion. Mac was her friend. So had Claire been, the way a loving spouse became a satellite to office relationships. Stella had spent birthdays, Christmas parties, and more formal occasions with Mac and Claire. She had admired Claire's cool, calm demeanour, while Claire had watched some of Stella's spectacular bursts of rage in horrified amusement. They had been "ladies who lunched" a few times, had shopped for Christmas gifts, and had even spent an out-of-town weekend together when Stella's "guy-of-the-moment" had scored a cabin in the Adirondacks. If asked, Stella would have put Claire unhesitatingly in the small, almost exclusive group of her true friends.

And yet, Stella realized with a start, she had always envied Claire: that calm certainty that life was good, that assurance that things would work out. She had envied her life and her husband.

"What does that make me?" Stella wondered a little frantically. She moved a little closer to the comforting, solid bulk of Flack, who looked down at her with a big grin and reached out to open the door of the restaurant they had agreed on. She looked at him for a moment.

"Leave it, idiot. Whoever you were five years ago, it's time to move on. Kick back."

As always, they talked. She couldn't believe how easy it was to be herself with Flack. Of course, he'd known her a long time, so they had lots, one would think, to talk about. But they rarely talked about work, and only sometimes about their co-workers. Instead, they'd talk about movies, art, politics, even religion, agreeing on hardly anything, but usually working their way around to a meeting place on practically everything. Time seemed to fly by when they were together. This week they'd shown up late after lunch one day and closed out two restaurants.

This night was no different: they were actually asked to leave this restaurant as the server needed to catch a ride home from a cook, and the kitchen had been closed for an hour. They stood outside, still talking, when Flack casually asked if she had talked to Danny at all.

Stella sighed. Nothing had changed in the lab. She and Flack had filled each other in on their respective conversations, but two more stubborn people did not exist. Lindsay was not prepared to budge, and Danny was not prepared to push, and that was the end of that story.

"The only good thing is that Mac is finally starting to take notice," Stella snapped Mac's name as if she'd be happy to take a bite out of him. Flack's eyebrows rose. Stella's friendship with Mac was a long-established fact; she rarely let her irritation with her boss show openly, although everyone had heard the rumours of the titanic fights she had brought into Mac's office when she felt justified.

"Something up, Stel?" He couldn't help it; he ran his hand through her long curls.

She shrugged, and felt a little tingle as he touched her. "You know that shower of shit we were talking about a few weeks ago."

Flack grimaced but nodded.

"I'm still waiting."

He reached for her hand. "But not alone."