Playing with Fire

By Jaye and Sonia

Authors notes (Jaye): After nearly three weeks of us teasing several of you with the cry "...hey you should see what we're writing..." HERE IT IS!!
After the co-authored work of Julia and Jaye with "What do you do with a Drunken Sailor - Or Wasted Detectives", Sonia has picked up the pen that Julia dropped (probably as she passed out) and continued the story with me. This piece is a prequel to that story AS WELL as a sequel. You may wish to wander into the Archive to refresh your memory before launching into this one! Hey Sonia... you can do the obligatory warning stuff...

Author’s notes (Sonia): Thank you Jaye. Several warnings should be attached to this fic:

WARNING 1: This fic contains several EXTREME SEXUAL REFERENCES. So if you blush easily or are NOT broad minded, stop reading NOW.

WARNING 2: The authors are not responsible for any melted computer circuitry as a result of this literary effort landing in anyone’s inbox.

WARNING 3: The authors are not responsible for any cases of pneumonia resulting from people having to have extremely cold baths or showers after reading this fic.

WARNING 4: If you have a heart condition DON’T GO ANY FURTHER.

WARNING 5: Don’t say we didn’t warn you

WARNING 6: There is NO warning six.

A quick acknowledgement before we start: the CD Rachel is playing when Frank arrives is Dangerous Curves by Lita Ford. The lyrics are from “Playing with Fire”. Feedback is most welcome

Disclaimer: Definitely Hal’s. Just borrowing them for a steam filled moment or three.

Sydney Water Police Headquarters, December 23 – Detectives Office

“Hey Rach, what’s a bloody Kris Kringle anyway?” Frank was confused.

Rachel shook her head, got up from her desk, perched on the edge and looked at Frank and Jack. For reasonably intelligent blokes there was something about certain office customs they didn’t get.

“Well Einstein, you go out and buy a small gift to the nominated value and put it under the tree, without putting a card on it.

“So that way, if you get a really dodgy pressie you don’t know which of your work mates to abuse for having appalling taste.

“You know Jack, I think you are catching on here.”

Sydney Water Police Headquarters, Christmas Eve – Meal Room

Rachel helped herself to another biscuit loaded with a spicy avocado dip as she placed her present under the Christmas tree. She noticed a couple of interesting shaped packages and hoped whatever Santa gave her was fit for public consumption.

Jeff set down his ever-present glass of Diet Coke and moved towards the Christmas tree.

“Okay people, before I start playing Santa, there’s going to be a little change of rules this year. Whatever gift you receive has to be shown to your colleagues.

“Shit Jeff, are you sure that’s a good thing?”

“Just because you got a lace g-string last year Dave.

Jeff reached under the Christmas tree and pulled out a red, glittery bag and walked towards Tayler.

"Merry Christmas Tayler," Jeff handed her the bag and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks boss." Tayler started to open the bag.

"Come on Tayler...what did you score?"

"Shut up Gavin! Oh...a citronella candle”

Gavin couldn't help himself.

"Well, that means there will be one less thing nibbling on your neck this summer."

Tayler did the only thing she could. She blushed.

The number of presents under the tree was quickly diminishing.

"Okay Tommy," said Jeff, picking up another package, " here you go."

Tommy grinned. "This is interesting, it's soft anyway."

"Well come on then," said Frank, "open the bloody thing..."

"Alright, alright," he replied. "Keep ya shirt on."

Tommy ripped at the wrapping paper to reveal some brightly coloured fabric.

"Well, what the hell is it?" asked Tayler trying to peek over his shoulder.

"Um... well..."

'Come on Tommy, can't be that bad?" stated Jeff. "You know the rules, show us."

Tommy held up his present, and reduced most of the water police crew to tears. Tears of laughter.

"Hmm, you'll look lovely in that choked Woodsie as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Yeah just what I needed," Tommy replied. "Although a one piece suit would look better than the two piece I think."

"Ah well," chuckled Jeff, "its all the luck of the draw I guess."

Jeff grabbed another parcel and walked towards the most intelligent of all intell officers - Helen.

"Helen, you must have been a good girl for Santa to leave you this.”

"Gee thanks Jeff. I do hope this will be a little better than what the big fella left for Tommy." Helen started to poke and prod her parcel. It was flat on the bottom and an odd shape on the top.

"Come on Helen - this is killing me.”

"You wait until it's your turn Jack." Helen ripped the paper away to find a framed picture of Sydney Harbour and a snowdome featuring the Opera House.

"Funny guys, real funny." Mick was laughing so hard he almost choked on a handful of cashew nuts.

Okay," said Jeff, "Frank I guess it can be your turn next."

Frank had a silly grin on his face. Christmas, he loved Christmas. The thrill of opening the unknown present had long disappeared from his life.  Brothers with equally big mouths had dispelled the myth of Santa Claus to him at a young age.

Now he found the magic of Christmas was causing him to grin like a loon, but he didn't mind at all.

"Here you go Frank, Merry Christmas from someone," said Jeff handing over yet another present.

“Ta," replied Frank. It was only a smallish box, but a heavy one. Frank ripped open the paper and then flicked the lid open.

"What is it Frank?" asked Helen.

"Buggered if I know," he replied, "hang on."

He tipped the box upside down to let the contents drop into his free hand. It was a jar. He turned it up the right way to read the label. A devilish grin spread across his face.

"Hmm this could be interesting," he said as he read the description of the contents. "Chocolate body paint... now do I have a volunteer to try it with me?"

"Ha! In your dreams Francis," scoffed Rachel.

"Who said anything about it having to be with you?" he asked.

Jeff looked at the pile of gifts. Hmmm who should get what? That smallish parcel wrapped in green paper would do nicely, he thought as he walked over to Rachel.

"Merry Christmas Goldie." Jeff gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek. She really was like a little sister to him.

Rachel started examining the parcel the same way a bomb technician would look at a suspicious package in the middle of George St.

"Come on Rach, quit stalling and open the thing will ya?

"Frank! How would you like that Christmas tree to end up someplace you don't want it?

Rachel peeled away the paper. Her face went white and then broke into a deep crimson blush. The blush matched her present actually.

"Jeff, I really don't think I should show these to everyone.”

"No exceptions to the rules Rach - Santa Hawker says so.”

"Shit, here goes nothing."

Rachel held up a bright red, extremely lacy pair of crutchless undies - complete with fluffy red pom pom ties suspended from two bits of black ribbon. The meal room erupted in a flood of innuendo and smutty remarks.

"Hey Goldstein, between those little beauties and Frank's body paint - you could be in for a real interesting holiday season.”

"Thanks for that insightful comment Dave, I'm not sure the people at Blacktown heard you though. I did warn you Jeff."

Jeff put his head in his hands and blushed. How did he end up in charge of this bunch of depraved but totally lovable loonies?

Helen put down her cup of tea and walked to the front of the room. A deceptively demure smile formed on her face as she put her fingers to her lips and let fly with a whistle shrill enough to stop half a dozen taxis in Pitt Street. Silence reigned supreme.

“It’s time for you to take a break Santa and be on the receiving end for a minute,” Helen was definitely going to enjoy playing Santa’s little helper. She walked around the tree a couple of times and consulted with Frank, who pointed towards a smallish hot pink box with a matching ribbon.

“Well Jeff, Santa’s little elves have spoken, come and meet your Yuletide destiny.”

“Thank you Helen,” said Jeff giving Helen a hug. In spite of all their bickering, Jeff had an enormous amount of respect for his right hand woman.

Gavin and Tommy led calls for their boss to unwrap his gift and make it snappy. Jeff lifted the lid from the box and threw his head back with laughter.

“Aww, it’s so cute,” Helen was peeking over Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff removed the gift from its box and placed it in his hands. There sat a yellow rubber duck, with a bright pink beak and wearing a fetching pair of Blues Brothers style sunnies. Jeff gave the duck a gentle squeeze and it squeaked.

“I don’t know what to say except thank you and Merry Christmas,” he said.
This was one of those times in the Police Service where the fine line between work mates and family definitely blurred.

Slipping back into Santa-mode, Jeff selected another gift and walked towards Emma Woods who was still paying out on Tommy over his highly fashionable gift. Dave was still trying to work out what he would do with an aromatherapy burner and some lavender oil. As for Gavin, he was getting royally paid out on by just about everyone. A pair of boxer shorts proclaiming the wearer to be a “horny little devil”, a set of
devil horns and a toy pitchfork was more than enough ammunition for the likes of Frank and Jack.

“Hey Tommy, I think we’re going to enjoy this more than Woodsie,” quipped Dave.

“Definitely. Come on gorgeous, don’t keep us waiting.” Tommy was in fine form.

“Did anyone ever tell you that patience was a virtue?” Woodsie tore off the wrapping paper only to find yet another layer of paper.

Rachel was sitting on the edge of the pool table and enjoying the spectacle immensely. Taking David shopping with her for this gift was a great idea.

“Finally!” Emma cast aside what seemed like the fifteenth layer of paper and pulled out a rather menacing looking water pistol.

She turned towards Dave and Tommy, smiling sweetly.

“I wonder if this thing is loaded.” Woodsie squeezed the trigger and a stream of water hit Dave fair in the chest. Tommy dived behind Jeff for cover.

“Yep, I guess it was loaded.”

There was one gift and one officer left. A smiling Jeff handed the bright red package with its silver bow to Jack. Rachel and Frank were even more curious than their colleague to see what was hiding under the wrapping paper was. Whatever it was couldn’t be any worse than a pair of crutchless undies or body paints. After this little episode, who knew what people actually thought went on in the detectives’office at times.

“Come on Christey, it’ll be New Year’s Eve before you have that thing unwrapped.

Rachel threw a withering glance at Frank as they watched their colleague from across the room.

“Hmm…massage oil. Sandalwood, my favourite. Someone in this station has exceptional taste. It’s really a shame that I live alone,” Jack was smiling across at Rachel. Frank saw an opportunity and just couldn’t help himself.

“Sorry Jack, you’re really not my type.”

The morning tea was starting to break up with the boat crew and divers walking by the detectives on their way out.

"Crutchless undies, body paint, massage oil. Hey guys, does this mean there’s going to be an orgy in the detective’s office?”

Rachel glared at Sykes who promptly shut up. He’d rather face off against an armed robber than take on Rachel when she started throwing ‘that’ look in his direction.

~*~*~*~


January 3, 2000. Pitt Street Mall

Rachel Goldstein waded through the post Christmas sale crowds – those red knickers had to be returned. They just weren’t her. Not in this lifetime or any other.    She wandered into “Bras and All” and proceeded to explain her Kris Kringle predicament to the shop assistant, who for once was extremely obliging. Must have had her happy pills for the day thought Rachel. Or perhaps it was the mention of the Chief Inspector of the Sydney Water Police playing Santa that did the trick? Either way, Rachel had a store credit to put towards a more appropriate purchase. She proceeded to browse around the shop. Lingerie.
She wondered who exactly had provided the original Kris Kringle from here? Have to be one of the girls. Surely none of the guys would have been caught dead in here to make the purchase!
The shop was wall to wall satin and lace. Not a skerrick of boring cotton in grey marle tones, that she had become accustomed to, anywhere. It had been so long since she had bothered. An extravagance that Rachel could ill afford. She used to have such a liking for this sort of stuff. Once upon a time she had a husband with money who liked to satisfy his young wife's tastes especially when it related to the nicer things in life.

Long gone now.

She picked up a black satin and lace slip. Now this was the sort of thing she would wear. Bugger the fact that there wasn't anyone in her life to appreciate it. But why shouldn't she have something that would
make her feel special. Sexy?
She picked one out that was her size. This was something that surprised her as the size you wanted was rarely one of the ones still there. Rachel continued to wander along the racks of underwear, the sort with
more fabric than she had received, that were lined up along the front of the store.

"Very nice there Rachel, let me know when your planning' the little cat walk parade with that one. I want front row seats!"

"Francis, can't I even get away from you after work?" she whined.

"Appears not," he grinned.

"Urghhhh!"

"So when do I get a look at you in that?" he asked cheekily indicating to the slip that was still on its hanger and hooked over her fingers.

"Shit Frank, what do you take me for?" she complained.

"Hell Rachel. If you were wearin' that I'd take ya anywhere," he chuckled.

"Oh give it a rest! Try hell. When it freezes over!"

"Now don't say things that you don't mean Rachel," he teased.

She gave him a special cold hard glare. Special because it was a particular one that she saved just for him.

"So, what are you doing here anyway?" she quizzed.

Frank reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a 'Colorado' gift voucher. "Old Auntie Edna. Just loves me she does. Sends me one of these for Christmas and birthdays."

"Oh I see." said Rachel.

"Yeah. I see too," said Jack catching Rachel's words as he approached them. "Getting some shopping done here eh? Looks like you are having fun or at least going to?" he added as he pointed towards the flimsy item of apparel that she was holding.

Rachel rolled her eyes, as she did when confronted by both of them together, and gave Jack his very own cold stare.

"No, we're not shopping together at all," stated Rachel. As if she would be in this sort of shop with Frank Holloway. The last thing she needed was rumors. "We just happened to run into each other here the same way the you have run into us."

"Really?" he asked cynically.

"Yes, really" she replied getting annoyed with both of them. "Oh bugger off you two I see enough of you at work and hell, after New Years Eve at my place, I think I still have a damn headache and no grog left in my house."

~*~*~*~

Rachel flopped onto her lounge. What a mind blower of a day. Being busted by Frank AND Jack in that lingerie store was going to take some living down. Not to worry though, she would get her own back eventually.

The plastic bag carrying the slip called to her like a never-ending box of Tim Tams. The temptation was just too much for Rachel – she had to wear the satin and lace confection and she had to wear it tonight.

Even wearing this black little piece of nothing under navy slip dress was beginning to make Rachel a little edgy – in a good sort of way. Where were Robert Redford or Tom Cruise when you needed them?

Fantasising about Hollywood hunks wasn’t going to get her anywhere, Rachel thought as she flipped on her CD player. Lita Ford, came on, filling her flat with serious electric guitar and lyrics about playing
with fire.

~*~*~*~

I ain’t afraid to take the things I want

And I don’t believe the world is gonna change for me

So I’ll take the love I need

We were riding high Like flames against the sky

Innocent and wild, we were playin’ with fire

Too hot to touch – you can’t call it love

But it’s close enough to be playin’ with fire

~*~*~*~

There was a knock on Rachel’s door, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Who is it?”

“Hi it’s me.”

She let Frank, who was weighed down by two plastic bags that looked to be full of booze, into the flat. Frank set the bags down on the kitchen bench and strolled into the lounge room. The Lita Ford CD was still playing with the singer belting out a little number involving a hunger for a fatal attraction and saving all her passion for someone or other.

“Geez Goldie, are you still listening to that American crap. I thought you had gotten over that a long time ago.

“Holloway, you have absolutely no taste what so ever.” Rachel picked up the remote control and changed the CD to something a little subtler – Cold Chisel. She walked over to the kitchen bench, looked in the plastic bags and squealed with delight.

“Why Frank, you are a gentleman after all. Replacing the champagne from the other night ... how sweet. Hey, Bollinger, I didn’t think you knew that sort of stuff existed.

“Goldie, I’m full of surprises.

“I noticed. I’ve just reached the couple of bottles of cheap stuff in here as well. What the heck, it’s all alcohol. Do you want a glass or should we just take a bottle each?

“I’ve got a better idea, let’s split the good stuff and I’ll go you bottle for bottle on the rest.

“You’re on.” Rachel was starting to get a strange feeling of déjà vu.
This could be New Year’s Eve all over again.

The Bollinger was quickly drained and the pizza ordered. So what if they weren’t drinking beer, there was just some Goldstein-Holloway traditions that weren’t meant to be broken.

Frank and Rachel had just started swapping rumours about mutual acquaintances on various strike forces when there was a knock at the door.

“Can you get that Frank? I don’t think I can move.

“Shit the pizza can’t be that quick. Doesn’t that mob we normally use take ages?

“Well why don’t you get off your bum and find out who it is?” Rachel smiled.

Frank opened the door. It was Jack. They looked at each other. Goldie unfolded herself from the lounge to see who the visitor was. Frank was probably stalling, in the hope of conning her into paying for the pizza.

“Hi Jack, come on in. We thought you were the pizza delivery person.

“Close Rach, I come bearing sustenance anyway. Champagne and the best cheese and pate I could fine in DJ’s food hall.

“You are good, you are sooo good…Hey excellent! Baby bottles of champagne. Isn’t this the stuff all those society chicks drink through little black straws? Shit Jack! Verve Cliquot! That stuff costs a freaking bundle!

“Yeah, well I was feeling a little bit guilty after drinking all of yours the other night and I thought some of the good stuff wouldn’t go astray.

Goldie couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss Jack on the cheek. Frank looked at Jack and muttered something about how he was quite particular about whom he kissed.

The pizza eventually arrived and the boxes joined a long line of green bottles drifting in a sea of foil. The trip knew the champagne had really kicked in when they singing Monty Python songs and reciting the sketches, particularly the Dead Parrot and the one about the Bruces, from memory.

“Hey, pizza and pate, this could be a new food fad,” remarked Frank, eyeing off the duck and orange pate and wondering if it would blend with a slice of Supreme.

“Not in my kitchen it won’t,” Jack uncorked a piccolo before loading a biscuit with pate. The biscuit lasted just as long as the mini-champagne bottle.

Rachel curled up on a floor cushion and leaned against the lounge. The action caused one of her shoulder straps to slip and reveal just enough lace and black satin to almost give Frank a heart attack. Jack gave
Rachel an admiring glance.

“Hey, you are wearing it – hell must have frozen over. Any chance of a fashion show later?” Frank quipped.

“Piss off Holloway, you’d be too drunk to enjoy it anyway.”

Jack went to get a refill, as his bottle of champagne was now empty. He managed to trip over Rachel, half lying on the floor.

"Shit Jack watch what you’re doing. My feet are killing me as it is," she complained as she emptied yet another bottle herself.

"Your feet are sore? No wonder woman, from all that walking you must have done today at the Mall," he laughed.

"Yeah well."

"Hey I know just the thing! Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

"Hey Jack, does it look like I am capable of going anywhere? Considering what I am wearing as well please."

"Barely wearing," added Frank.

"Hmm… you just keep those peepers to yourself," she grinned.

Jack sprinted out of the room. Which was quite funny to watch considering the amount of alcohol he had already consumed. They heard the front door open and close.

"Where the f...?" started Rachel absentmindedly.

But Frank saw his opportunity.

Rachel was leaning back on the couch cushion her eyes closed.

"You conscious there Rachel?" he quizzed.

"Hmmm.. yeah."

He moved over to her and started nibbling on her ear. Tentatively at first, almost waiting for her to swing her fist and tell him to piss off.
But it didn't happen.

"Rachel?" he whispered in her ear.

"Hmmm," she replied.

"You like?"

"Hmmm nice..."

Jack arrived back on the room to be greeted by the sight of Frank having a lovely time with Rachel's ear and neck. It surprised him somewhat that this didn’t concern him.

"Shit, must be drunk," he said quietly to himself.

"You back?" said Frank, barely acknowledging Jack's return. And certainly not stopping what he was doing.

"Yep."

"Did you have to?" he muttered between nibbles.

"Yep." Jack plonked himself down on the floor at Rachel's feet.

"Thought this damn Kris Kringle thing would come in handy one day," he said as he removed the top off the bottle of massage oil.

He picked up one foot, and rested her heel in the palm of one hand while drizzling a small amount of the liquid over her toes.

She giggled like a schoolgirl.

Rachel giggling? Oh this was TOTALLY out of character for her thought Jack.

How much had they all had to drink? But hey, who was he to argue? He put the bottle on the floor and with his now free hand, began to rotate the top of her foot.

"Hmmm.. Nice..." she breathed.

"Which is Rach? Me or him?" asked Jack.

"Excuse me Jack?" said Frank.

"No.. boys, don't.. There's enough of me to go round."

Jack and Frank both looked at each other.

Her comment surprised both of them.

"Are you sure you're okay with this Rachel. I mean you do know where this could be heading?" asked Jack cautiously.

She lifted her head from where it was resting on the couch cushion, opened one eye, looked down the length of her body at him, then closing her eye again before flopping her head back against the cushion.

"I may have had waaaaayyyyyy too much to drink, but Rachel Goldstein is not stupid. I'm a…a consenting adult here. Shit this is 'my' house and I know exactly what I am doing."

"Are you sure?" Frank whispered in her ear. "I mean?"

"Perfectly sure," she replied turning her head and opening her eyes.

She was amazed at how easily she could focus on his face at such close range. She threw her lips at his. Her tongue assaulting his tongue and leaving the sweet taste of the champagne she had been drinking, dancing in his mouth when she finally retreated.

"I have just decided," she said looking at Frank and then to Jack before closing her eyes once again, "that my New Years resolution, be it a coupla days late, is that you only live once, so bugger the consequences, I'm planning on living."

She reached over for the bottle she was drinking from and knocked it over. She opened her eyes, righted the nearly empty bottle, and took another mouthful.

"You're drunk Rachel," grinned Jack.

"Shit. and you guys aren't?" she questioned.

"Yeah but.."

"Yeah but nothing. Me thinks I am more soberer than you two!" She laughed. soberer? Was that really a word? No matter. "And why have you stopped with the foot there Jack? I was seriously getting into that."

Jack rarely did as he was told. Not usually anyway.
But this time he decided to make the exception as he picked her foot again.

"Hey, don't forget the other one, it's gettin' lonely there," she grinned.

Rachel could feel Frank’s lips on her neck again. At last she thought, they had stopped talking.  Her brain was fuzzy, but she had been truthful. She figured she knew what she was doing. And that was the main thing. Hell the guys had done nothing but bicker like two schoolboys fighting over the same comic book since Jack and come to work with them.

She smiled as she tried to think of an apt title for that comic, but the champagne-induced haze had closed down that part of her brain.

No new trains of thought would be arriving on that platform for some time. She had enough to deal with the backlog of emotions that were already waiting for their boarding pass. Emotions yes she thought, what was she feeling?

Other than drunk and very, very relaxed! She was curious that she didn't feel any trepidation or nervousness at what was more than likely to take place. Perhaps because this was not a scenario that she had ever envisaged occurring so her mind did not know how to process the picture.

Or perhaps it was something that she had secretly thought about, wanted.  The two men that she loved, wanting. Hey, where did that word come from? Love?

In the back of her mind she had perhaps believed that a menage a trois was purely an expression of lust and animal attraction. Love wasn't meant to be part of that picture. But what could you do if the love that you felt was not orchestrated to just one tune, but two?

Did you forget both?
Forget one?
Or let the feelings be explored together?
There were several four-letter words that could describe what they were all about to do but the one that bounced around in her brain the most was love.

She put her bottle of champagne up to her mouth.

Nothing.

"Damn," she muttered, "empty."

"I somehow don't think you need anymore there Rach.," said Jack softly.

"Hmmm, yeah I do. Now which one of you guys is going to surrender their drink for me?" she asked playfully.

"Okay if you have to, here have mine," said Jack. "I'm a bit busy to drink it anyway."

"You know if you get totally wasted," said Frank in barely more than whispered tones, "there wont be any fun for any of us."

She chuckled softly. " Oh don't worry. I'm not planing on missing out on fun here guys. Remember - resolution... I'm living once…and going for it."

Jack and Frank looked at each other and took it as their cue from her that she really did know what she was doing and she was a more than willing participant was.

Frank ran his fingers over her face, tracing her eyebrows down her nose to her lips. If he was sober, his fogged brain tried to rationalize, this was something that he may have made a crude joke about, but never allowed himself to dream could take place. But now, what they were doing, it didn't feel like it belonged in a crude joke. It felt - different.

But if he was so drunk, then why did these thoughts even enter his head?
Perhaps he wasn't as drunk as he first believed.

Jack in the meantime and finished massaging both of her tired feet and was preceding to work his way along the back of her legs. The provocative little black satin and lace slip that had been such a turn on when it was first revealed, was now proving a hindrance to the progress of all three of them. In the ensuing hours, passion hung as thick in the air as the heady scent of the sandalwood oil.

In life there were lines that should never be crossed. Rules that were written and some that were only spoken that should never be broken. But in Rachel’s house, they had all been forgotten.

Three hearts were full of emotions that needed to be expressed. Strongest was the most simple yet complex of emotions – love. The feeling was equally as strong between Frank and Rachel, Rachel and Jack. To live and not know this feeling would be to live life in the shadows

Desires ignited and exploded on Rachel's lounge room floor.

Increasing pulses.
Racing heart beats.
Tongues searching.
Bodies tangling.
Heat and sweat slicked skin.
Cries of passion.
Waves of euphoria.
Signs of exhaustion.
The crescendo of frenzied excitement.
Cravings of the heart,
And then.

Bliss!

Pure, mind numbing, bliss!

No one was willing to protest his or her exhaustion.
All knowing that the dawn would eventually come.
And a night like this, unlikely to ever return.

And then it began.

Over again.

And again...

And.

Again.

A symphony of three.
And the music was sweet.

~*~*~*~

Sunlight warmed Rachel's face as the soft breeze that danced with her curtains, through the slightly opened window, tickled her face and gently woke her from sleep.

She blinked.

Sunlight?

Bright sunlight!
Urghhhhh. Pain.
Head spinning, mind numbing pain.
Why did she drink so much?

She stopped her head from spinning long enough to come to the realisation that she was in her bed and she was totally and utterly void of any clothing.


What the hell?
And then it hit her.
Shit.. Ohhhh shit!
Did she? Nah, she wouldn't have?

Dream, no nightmare.. No actually...

She smiled.

Dream.

Oh hell what a dream that was!

She rolled her body over, away from the light.

Work. She'd have to get up soon.

"Hey Rachel..."

"SHIT!"

"Rach?" Jack was standing at her bedroom door.

What was he..?

"Oh hell," she said, "oh hell.."

"What’s wrong?" said Frank, also appearing in the doorway.

"Oh my god. It wasn't a dream," she said as she put the sheet over her face. Realised again that she was naked, and looked back over the top of the sheet at the both standing in her bedroom doorway.

"You okay Rachel?" asked Jack. "You sure don't look well."

"Dream?" asked Frank. "What ya been dreaming about there Goldie?"

"You. um.. Oh hell, nah. what why are you two..?"

"Don't you remember anything that happened last night?" asked Jack.

"Ah, well. I'm not sure..." She tried to figure out what information was safe to share. "I remember you two turning up. I remember us drinking lots. Oh more than lots of champagne, again.. But well.."

Frank and Jack looked at each other and smirked.

"So come on tell us about that dream?" grinned Jack.

"Yeah, were we in it?"

"In your dreams Francis."

"Nah it’s yours we're talking about here," he replied.

"How did I ... um … get into bed. I remember being downstairs? And what are you two doing...?"

"Hey we were far too wasted to drive home," stated Frank.

"We crashed. just heading home before work. You 'are' going to be able to go to work today? I mean you're not 'too' hungover there are you Rach?" queried Jack.

"We helped you up here. You basically passed out downstairs," added Frank.

"I did?"

"Yeah, bit of a party pooper there Rach.," said Jack watching her screwing up her face and trying to search for some memories in the brain that was several brain cells less than it had been the day before.

"But then how did I …" Urgh … she hated having to ask it but she knew her mind would not be satisfied until she knew. "I mean I seem to be lacking clothing."

"Hey," laughed Jack, "Neither of us removed anything."

"We got ya to the door and you told us to go away and leave you to recover or words to that effect.  What you did when you got in here is your business there Rachel," smiled Frank.

"Hmmm okay. Look, I really need to get ready for work. So, do you guys think you can GO!"

"Yeah, yeah, we're goin'", said Frank.

"See you later at work," replied Jack.

And then they were gone.

Rachel lay there, waiting to hear the front door close and then the sound of their respective vehicles start and leave.

Oh, a dream. It was an amazing dream. What the hell had she been eating? Or watching on television to trigger that one? Actually, she had vague recollections of Frank making some comment on New Year’s Eve. Perhaps that was it. Or even a comment from Gavin about orgies in the Detectives office. Hell but that was more than a week ago. Surely this hadn't been kicking around in her brain since then?

Oh a shower. She needed one.

She put her feet on the floor and tried to stand.

Whoaaaa.. Hell it would be a taxi to work.

Obviously far too intoxicated still to drive to work. She sat back down on the edge of the bed. Perhaps she shouldn't have let Jack and Frank drive either. She tried to stand again and make her way to the bathroom.

Damn, she thought, should have made a New Year resolution not to drink as much.
Resolutions? Why did that sort of sound familiar?

Muscles that Rachel had forgotten existed ached as she made her way to the bathroom. Oh hell, this was weird. She vowed there and then never to drink champagne again if this was going to be the after effect. Mind you the dream was a pretty darn interesting one.

The hot water cascading down Rachel’s body helped to relax her twinging muscles as she reflected on last night’s dream. Too many images raced through her mind.

Whoops! Should have made that a cold shower after all, she thought.

Okay Goldstein, no loud movements or sudden noises here as you are still somewhat fragile she thought. What to have for breakfast? Bacon and egg roll, coffee? Yep, grease and caffeine could really be a girl’s best friend at times.

Rachel alighted from the taxi and walked over to the station. Her sunglasses had been welded on to her face ever since she left home. How would Jeff react if she left them on all day?

After her dream and last night’s power drinking session with Jack and Frank, Rachel prayed the boys would be last seen taking statements somewhere around Parramatta.

Pushing open the door of the detective’s office Rachel let out a small groan. Shit, both of them were here. This was going to be a bloody long day.

Aside from a brief good morning, no one spoke in the usually noisy office. The memories of last night and this morning’s explanations were still just a little too vivid for everyone’s liking. The only noise in the place was the rock music coming from Triple M.

It really wasn’t a busy day and everyone from Jeff down concluded Sydney was still trying to get over New Year’s celebrations. Lunchtime came and went with the speed of a tranquilised snail.

Frank was leaning back in his chair when he was struck by a particularly devilish little thought.

"Gee, it's getting cold out there for January."

Rachel looked at him with a puzzled expression, seeing the bright sunshine and everyone in summer uniform. Jack and Frank both had their sleeves rolled to the elbows and any excuse not to wear a tie was a good one for both of them.

"You think so?"

"Yeah... Hell must have frozen over."

“Geez, you really do talk crap at times Frank.”

An after midnight grin crept across Frank’s face as he wandered to the filing cabinet, smirking all the way.

Men, humph. Rachel sometimes thought they were strange but useful creatures. When would this day end? Stuff it – this day ends right now, she thought.

“Guys, I’m going to take some of that time I’ve got owing to me. I’m out of here.”

Jack stood with his arms outstretched against the doorway, blocking Rachel’s exit. Shit, what does he want, Rachel thought.

“Ah Rach, you haven’t seen my silver bracelet have you? I was wearing it before I went to your place last night but I can’t seem to find it now.

“If I see it, I’ll bring it in with me, “ Rachel promised as she ducked under Jack’s arms and scooted through the door.

Shouldering open her front door Rachel was greeted by the welcome silence of an empty home and a lounge room floor littered with champagne bottles, the remnants of a cheese plate and pizza boxes.

Clean up this dump, have a hot shower and crawl into bed, Rachel thought.
Might even have a bit of time to read some of the book David gave her for Christmas.

Hopefully her subconscious wouldn’t be showing any midnight movies tonight.

Two hours later ...

Rachel threw her novel onto the bedside table and it landed with a satisfying clunk. Then she heard something hit the floor.

What the mink was that?

Peering over the edge of the bed she saw it, gleaming gently against the carpet. Surely it wasn’t.

Oh shit it was. Hopefully she was still dreaming. Close your eyes Rachel – just to be on the safe side.

Eyes open again. Oh my, it was still there.

She had found Jack’s bracelet

Ohhhhh shiiiiitttt.

The End

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