And because I'm feeling quilty, here's an extra chapter for you! Look two in one night hopes no one notices the fact she has been lax in updating!

That The Eyes Can't See

Chapter 134: I'm sure that you're an angel in disguise

Taylor sat up, clutching the back of her head with one hand, wafting the hand with the bite around in the air, and cursing loudly to the empty room. Until she saw the rat again, at which point she pulled off her shoe and launched it at it (although missing it) and continued to curse loudly.

The door to the room burst open, causing Taylor to jump and whack her head again.

'Taylor? What are you doing on the floor?' Flack asked in confusion, looking at the sprawled out woman.

'Avoiding the rat!' she squeaked at him.

Flack let out a long, drawn breath and held out his hand. 'I'm sorry about that.'

Taylor took his hand, wincing as gravity combined with her head. 'Why? Did you put it there?'

Flack sighed and sank to the bench. 'No, one of the guys did.'

'Why?' Taylor asked as she perched down beside him, ignoring the fact that both her head and hand were throbbing.

Flack gave her a pointed look. 'Rat. Think about it.'

Taylor frowned. 'Truby?'

Flack nodded. 'It's their way of calling me a snitch.'

'Well I guess I deserved it - it was my fault,' she sniped at him.

Flack looked over at her. 'You didn't go to Mac.'

'No,' Taylor frowned. 'So you've worked that out then?'

Flack looked down at his hands. 'Yeah. I'm sorry I exploded at you.'

'Don, you did a little more than explode at me,' Taylor murmured.

'I know. And I'm sorry.'

'Look,' Taylor sighed. 'I'm not mad at you shouting at me. To be fair, I probably could have told you a little better.'

'No,' said Flack, cutting her off. 'You couldn't. You knew something was wrong, you came straight to me, and you didn't tell me here. I just… I thought you were wrong, that Mac was wrong. I've worked alongside Truby for years. He's not a bad cop – always has your back. He's put so many bad guys away, and now they're all going to walk,' he finished angrily.

Taylor frowned, looking up at him. His eyes were a dark blue – stormy – as they stared down at her brown ones. 'Who are you more mad at?' she asked him hesitantly.

Flack snorted. 'Mac. Truby. Me. The system. The dealers.'

'You know it's not your fault, don't you?' she asked him, staring earnestly at him.

Flack stared back, but nodded. 'Doesn't mean I'm not pissed.'

Taylor nodded. 'I know. But Mac was only trying to do what's right.'

Flack stared at her in disbelief.

'He was. It may annoy everyone and cause some pain in the process, but he's looking out for everyone's best intentions.' Taylor laughed dryly. 'And this is coming from me. Seriously though, Don. Mac's one of the good guys. Like you. What would you have done if the roles were reversed?'

'I guess I would have done the same,' he relented. 'Though I may have waited until Mac wasn't in the office.' He sighed. 'I'm sorry.'

Taylor sighed and looked down at her feet. 'And what about that whole nonsense about Marty,' she asked him in a quiet voice.

'The guy has a thing for you.'

'Please,' Taylor scoffed.

Flack leant forward, cupping her face. 'I don't blame him,' he told her solemnly. 'But he does have a thing for you.'

'I think you're reading far too much into our friendship. But in any case, I don't have a thing for him. If you hadn't forgotten, I was moving out of our flat to move in with you.'

'You still want to?' Flack asked her hopefully.

'Are you kidding? Of course I still want to,' Taylor told him in disbelief. 'I'm not put off by one stupid argument.'

'What did I do to deserve you?' he asked her, leaning over and kissing her.

Taylor shrugged. 'I keep asking myself the same question.'

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to him. 'Come here.' There was a pause. 'Out of curiosity, is Mac still looking out for everyone's best interests when he throws you out of the lab again?'

Taylor slapped his arm. 'That's not funny. But no. Then he's being mean and awkward. And don't you dare quote me on that when I'm moaning about him.'

'One rule for you, eh?'

'Yup,' Taylor told him, snuggling down into his arms.

'When was the last time you had your tetanus?' Flack asked, grabbing Taylor's hand and examining the bite wound.

'It's fine,' Taylor told him, trying to snatching the hand away.

'You were bitten by a rat,' Flack told her.

'Yeah, not scratched by a rusty nail,' Taylor objected.

'Taylor, rats are vermin. The carry disease. They killed half of Europe.'

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'Firstly, it's a common misconception that rats are unclean. Like pigs, they are actually very clean animals. Secondly, the rats didn't carry the plague, the fleas which lived on them did.'

'You do realize you contradicted yourself twice there, don't you?' Flack smirked. 'And I don't care if the rat has a daily bubble bath you're getting a shot of some description.'

Taylor glared at him. 'I'm beginning to think I liked you better when you were ignoring me,' she muttered as she took the hand he was offering and allowed him to lead her out of the locker room. 'Do we really have to deal with the ER?'

Flack looked sideways at her. 'How hard did you hit your head? There are two ME's next door. I'm pretty certain that they're capable of sticking a needle in your arm.'

Taylor nodded, but said nothing, keeping quiet until they were just outside the door to the morgue. 'Don, how many rodents have found their way into your locker?'

Flack pursed his lips. 'That was the first living one.'

Taylor's eyes widened as she came to an abrupt halt. 'The first living one? It's barely been a week since Truby was arrested.'

Flack turned, shrugging slightly. 'I know,' was all he managed.

'You should tell someone. Your captain. Hell, even Mac.'

Flack took a deep breath, staring past her. 'I think that would defeat the point – probably encourage slightly more rats in my things.'

'Don, you can't let them bully you like this?' she told him, wincing at herself as she became an octave higher in pitch.

'Don't worry about it, Tay. Things will die down soon enough. I've just got to endure it a bit longer.'

Taylor scowled. 'That's a defeatist attitude to take.'

'I don't have the energy to be battling with them as well as everything else.'

Taylor stared up at him. 'Everything else?' she asked, when he refused to meet her eyes.

'It's nothing,' he sighed.

'If it's nothing, tell me,' she urged him.

Flack sighed. 'My dad paid a visit,' he told her shortly.

'Oh,' Taylor mouthed at him. 'I take it he heard.'

'Yeah. My dad is still in the loop, despite the fact he's retired.'

'I'm sorry,' Taylor murmured, wrapping her arms around him.

'Why are you apologizing?' Flack asked her, squeezing his arms tightly around her.

'Because something tells me your actions regarding Truby weren't the only things that were discussed.'

'Taylor, how about we concentrate on sorting your head out – which I am sure is pounding from hitting that locker?' Flack asked her.

'Don, my headache is going to be cured by a couple of pain killers. Yours on the other hand – not so much.'

'Cute,' Flack muttered. 'But we're getting that hand of yours sorted.'

Taylor pushed herself away from him. 'It's just a finger,' she told him, waving it in front of him. 'Look it's even stopped bleeding.'

'That's probably the rabies,' Flack told her, matter-of-factly.

Taylor rolled her eyes. 'I guess I haven't told you this enough, but you're a doofas. And you've not escaped this discussion,' she informed him as he all but pushed her through the morgue doors.

'Don? Taylor?' Peyton's voice greeted them warmly as they walked in. 'What can I do for you?'

'Hey Peyton. I need you take a look at Taylor's hand,' Flack told her.

Peyton frowned, pulling off the rubber gloves she was wearing and threw them in a trash can. 'What have you done to yourself?'

'Firstly, I haven't done anything,' Taylor objected. 'And secondly, it's not my hand, it's my finger.'

'Well there's a pretty sizeable chunk missing from it,' Peyton muttered, peering over at it.

'She was bitten by a rat,' Flack told her.

Peyton peered up, eyebrows arched, but said nothing. 'Sid!' she yelled instead. 'Sorry,' she apologized. 'Only I'm midway through an autopsy. It would be unhygienic of me to patch you up without getting changed. Sid!'

'Yes, Peyton,' Sid appeared in the office doorway. 'Hello Ms. Turner, Detective Flack,' he greeted the pair as soon as he spotted them. 'What can I do for you?'

'Taylor needs patching up,' Peyton told him as she pulled on another pair of gloves and returned to the dead body she had been cutting up.

Sid pulled on a pair of gloves and patted one of the empty tables. Taylor stared incredulously at him. 'You do not expect me to get on that do you?'

Sid shrugged. 'It's clean.'

'It has had who knows how many dead people on it,' Taylor protested.

'Nonsense,' Sid muttered, nodding at Flack, who picked Taylor up and sat her on the table before she could object.

'Let's have a look,' Sid murmured, grabbing her hand and putting his glasses on. 'What bit you?' he asked after he had cleaned the wound.

'A rat,' Flack told him.

Sid looked up, and unclipped his glasses. 'When were your last shots?'

Taylor rolled her eyes and winced at the pain the action caused her. 'I'd rather painkillers, if you don't mind.'

'I think we'd better give you a booster, just to be on the safe side,' Sid informed her, walking to a cupboard and returning with a syringe. 'You know,' said Sid, the needle hovering over her arm, 'it won't hurt as much if you relaxed.'

Taylor glared at him. 'Relax? You're about to jab a six inch needle in my arm.'

Flack laughed. 'It's barely an inch. I didn't know you were scared of needles.'

Taylor turned her glare towards him. 'I'm not scared of needles. I'm just not a big fan of the pain they cause when they – OW!' she yelled, as Sid stuck the needle into her arm.

'All done,' he told her cheerfully.

'Now I know why you cut dead things up,' she sulked, rubbing her arm.

'Sulking is such an attractive quality on you,' Flack told her.

'Yeah,' Taylor scowled at him. 'Just like sarcasm is a great quality on you.'

'Maybe we should get you home,' Flack laughed.

'Thanks Sid,' Taylor muttered, jumping off the table. Flack was right – her head was pounding.