“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not making a funny noise. It’s making the same noise it has made since we left San Diego – it’s what a V8 engine is supposed to sound like.” Taylor cried impatiently as she squeezed the pump, filling the GTO up with gas.
“I don’t trust a car which is fifty years old,” Flack admitted.
“This car has been restored to perfect working order,” said Taylor, rolling her eyes. “And it’s forty years old, which makes it a classic.” She stared past him at the front end of the black, ‘67 Chevy Impala which was poking its hood out from the opposite side of the pump.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have just flown back and had the car shipped.”
“Flack, there’s a reason why I haven’t been back to California in over nine years. And you witnessed it on the flight to San Diego. This wasn’t such a problem to you when you agreed to drive back in the first place.”
“That was until we drove out of the way to Las Vegas.”
“You’re the one that did that! Jeeze, Flack, I tell you what, as soon as I pay for this gas I’ll drive you to the nearest airport and you can fly back.” She took the nozzle out of the car and put it back, before storming off to the store to pay for the gas.
Inside, she headed straight for the refrigerator, pulled out a Pepsi and twisted it open as she leant back against the glass.
“That GTO yours?”
Taylor turned and found herself staring at an extremely good looking guy around her age – cropped hair, with a bit of a quiff at the front, hazel eyes and a bit of stubble. “Yeah.”
“That’s one nice car.”
“Thank you.”
He watched her finish off the bottle. “Thirsty?”
“I need the caffeine,” she shrugged.
He smiled at her. “You’re not planning on staying around here tonight, then?”
Taylor smiled and shook her head. “Nah, I need to get back to New York. I could make it by sunset.”
Strangely, the guy looked relieved. “That’s good.” Taylor arched an eyebrow, taking in the guy’s leather jacket and biker boots. “No, I mean, it’s not safe around here, you know.”
Taylor laughed. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ve seen my own fair share of not safe.”
The guy arched an eyebrow back. “Really?”
Taylor just smiled at him, turning and pulling two more bottles of Pepsi out of the refrigerator and heading to the register, placing them, and the empty one on the counter. “And pump one, please.” She pulled out her credit card and placed it down, turning to glance out of the window.
What she saw didn’t make her happy. She forgot about paying, leaving her things on the counter, and stormed out of the door, nearly knocking another guy over. Not paying him much attention, she muttered an apology and stalked over to her car. “Flack! What are you doing?”
He was leant against the side, whilst someone was under the hood, pottering around with the engine. Flack shrugged at her. “The mechanic heard us, and offered to look at the engine.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the engine,” Taylor cried in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you this? It’s a V8. It’s supposed to make that noise.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with checking it out.”
“Your boyfriend is right, missy,” said the mechanic, allowing the hood to slam shut. “However, sonny, your girlfriend is also right. There’s nothing wrong with that engine.”
“I told you so,” she said to Flack. She suddenly realised that she had never paid for the gas and headed back inside.
“Everything alright?” The man at the counter asked.
“Men!” Taylor replied.
“Now, we’re not all that bad,” said the guy who had been talking to her earlier, a flirty grin on his face.
Taylor looked from him, to the guy standing next to him, who had a somewhat amused expression on his face. He looked similar to the first guy, although his hair was longer, and his clothing was more college student than resident bad-boy.
“Alright,” Taylor conceded. “Maybe not all men. Just the men who seem to have certain trust issues.”
“Now, to be fair, I’d be a little wary dating a gorgeous girl like you.”
The guy next to him snorted. “Of what, all the guys using lame pick-up lines on her. That’s as bad as, I love kids,” he was prevented from saying much more by the first guy smacking him in the stomach.
Taylor chuckled. “He trusts me like that. It’s just cars and…”
“And?”
Taylor shrugged. “Well, that’s it. The other thing we finally cleared up.” She signed her receipt and gathered up her things. “It was nice talking to you, but I really do want to make it to New York this evening.” She left the store and headed back to the car, hopping straight into the driver’s seat.
She turned the ignition, but before she could pull out Flack was already complaining. “Taylor, I love you dearly, but your taste in music is truly appalling. Can we please ditch the boy bands?” he groaned at the sound of the Backstreet Boys blasting out of the stereo.
Taylor laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m driver, I pick the music. You’re riding shotgun. You shut up and listen.”
“So how about you let me drive?”
“Not a chance. We’ll get five foot down the road and you’ll claim that the tires aren’t supposed to be turning like that.”
Flack rolled his eyes. “I thought the engine was making a funny noise, alright? At least we know it’s fine.”
“Yeah, fine. But you’re still not driving.”
Flack rolled his eyes and fiddled with the iPod, selecting Headlights On A Dark Road, by Snow Patrol.
“What are you doing?” Instead of answering, Flack leant over, grabbed her face and kissed her. Taylor took in a deep breath as she pulled away. “Okay, you win.” She pouted. “But you can’t keep winning arguments like that.”
Flack grinned. “I love it when we fight.”
“I don’t trust a car which is fifty years old,” Flack admitted.
“This car has been restored to perfect working order,” said Taylor, rolling her eyes. “And it’s forty years old, which makes it a classic.” She stared past him at the front end of the black, ‘67 Chevy Impala which was poking its hood out from the opposite side of the pump.
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have just flown back and had the car shipped.”
“Flack, there’s a reason why I haven’t been back to California in over nine years. And you witnessed it on the flight to San Diego. This wasn’t such a problem to you when you agreed to drive back in the first place.”
“That was until we drove out of the way to Las Vegas.”
“You’re the one that did that! Jeeze, Flack, I tell you what, as soon as I pay for this gas I’ll drive you to the nearest airport and you can fly back.” She took the nozzle out of the car and put it back, before storming off to the store to pay for the gas.
Inside, she headed straight for the refrigerator, pulled out a Pepsi and twisted it open as she leant back against the glass.
“That GTO yours?”
Taylor turned and found herself staring at an extremely good looking guy around her age – cropped hair, with a bit of a quiff at the front, hazel eyes and a bit of stubble. “Yeah.”
“That’s one nice car.”
“Thank you.”
He watched her finish off the bottle. “Thirsty?”
“I need the caffeine,” she shrugged.
He smiled at her. “You’re not planning on staying around here tonight, then?”
Taylor smiled and shook her head. “Nah, I need to get back to New York. I could make it by sunset.”
Strangely, the guy looked relieved. “That’s good.” Taylor arched an eyebrow, taking in the guy’s leather jacket and biker boots. “No, I mean, it’s not safe around here, you know.”
Taylor laughed. “Thanks for the concern, but I’ve seen my own fair share of not safe.”
The guy arched an eyebrow back. “Really?”
Taylor just smiled at him, turning and pulling two more bottles of Pepsi out of the refrigerator and heading to the register, placing them, and the empty one on the counter. “And pump one, please.” She pulled out her credit card and placed it down, turning to glance out of the window.
What she saw didn’t make her happy. She forgot about paying, leaving her things on the counter, and stormed out of the door, nearly knocking another guy over. Not paying him much attention, she muttered an apology and stalked over to her car. “Flack! What are you doing?”
He was leant against the side, whilst someone was under the hood, pottering around with the engine. Flack shrugged at her. “The mechanic heard us, and offered to look at the engine.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the engine,” Taylor cried in exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you this? It’s a V8. It’s supposed to make that noise.”
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with checking it out.”
“Your boyfriend is right, missy,” said the mechanic, allowing the hood to slam shut. “However, sonny, your girlfriend is also right. There’s nothing wrong with that engine.”
“I told you so,” she said to Flack. She suddenly realised that she had never paid for the gas and headed back inside.
“Everything alright?” The man at the counter asked.
“Men!” Taylor replied.
“Now, we’re not all that bad,” said the guy who had been talking to her earlier, a flirty grin on his face.
Taylor looked from him, to the guy standing next to him, who had a somewhat amused expression on his face. He looked similar to the first guy, although his hair was longer, and his clothing was more college student than resident bad-boy.
“Alright,” Taylor conceded. “Maybe not all men. Just the men who seem to have certain trust issues.”
“Now, to be fair, I’d be a little wary dating a gorgeous girl like you.”
The guy next to him snorted. “Of what, all the guys using lame pick-up lines on her. That’s as bad as, I love kids,” he was prevented from saying much more by the first guy smacking him in the stomach.
Taylor chuckled. “He trusts me like that. It’s just cars and…”
“And?”
Taylor shrugged. “Well, that’s it. The other thing we finally cleared up.” She signed her receipt and gathered up her things. “It was nice talking to you, but I really do want to make it to New York this evening.” She left the store and headed back to the car, hopping straight into the driver’s seat.
She turned the ignition, but before she could pull out Flack was already complaining. “Taylor, I love you dearly, but your taste in music is truly appalling. Can we please ditch the boy bands?” he groaned at the sound of the Backstreet Boys blasting out of the stereo.
Taylor laughed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m driver, I pick the music. You’re riding shotgun. You shut up and listen.”
“So how about you let me drive?”
“Not a chance. We’ll get five foot down the road and you’ll claim that the tires aren’t supposed to be turning like that.”
Flack rolled his eyes. “I thought the engine was making a funny noise, alright? At least we know it’s fine.”
“Yeah, fine. But you’re still not driving.”
Flack rolled his eyes and fiddled with the iPod, selecting Headlights On A Dark Road, by Snow Patrol.
“What are you doing?” Instead of answering, Flack leant over, grabbed her face and kissed her. Taylor took in a deep breath as she pulled away. “Okay, you win.” She pouted. “But you can’t keep winning arguments like that.”
Flack grinned. “I love it when we fight.”
* * *
Several miles down the road, the car suddenly started making spluttering noises. As Taylor pulled off the road, the engine made a bang, steam billowing out everywhere. “Don’t even say it,” Taylor muttered as she jumped out of the car, and into the downpour that had started only a few minutes down the road, and pulled the hood up, wafting the steam away.
“Well?” Flack asked her.
“It looks like the radiator,” Taylor told him. Flack groaned, kicking the car’s tire. “Hey!” Taylor cried. “It’s not the car’s fault.” Flack shot her a look. “What? You had a mechanic check it out – blame it on him.” She marched around to the trunk, pulled out a bag and her purse, and went back to the front dropping the hood shut, “Come on.”
“What?”
“Alright, you stay here. I’m walking back to Centralia and getting a tow truck out here.”
“You are not walking back by yourself,” Flack told her.
“Then get a move on. I don’t want to be out in this rain any longer than I have to.”
Half an hour later, they walked back into Centralia. With the black rain clouds as a backdrop, Centralia looked even more depressing. They headed straight for the garage where the mechanic agreed to go get the car.
“You dry off,” Flack told her, “I’ll go back and get the car.”
Taylor nodded and headed straight for the only diner in the town. With the bell on the door still jangling loudly, she ordered a cup of hot chocolate and sat down at a table, dropping her head on the table.
“I thought you were leaving town?”
Taylor looked up through her soaking hair and found the bad-boy looking down at her, with the other guy, both looking a combination of worried and alarmed. “Car trouble,” she told them.
“You were supposed to be keeping an eye on that,” the bad-boy said to the college guy in a whisper, which Taylor caught, giving them a look.
“What’s the problem?” she asked them warily.
The two of them looked at each other and then sat down at the table with her. “You need to get out of here,” the bad-boy said.
“Alright, who are you?” Taylor demanded, suddenly fed up with the games.
The two shared another look, “I’m Sam,” said the college boy. “And this is Dean.”
“We’re Detectives, and it’s not safe here,” said Dean.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere in a hurry. The radiator’s cracked, and that isn’t a ten minute job. Besides, I’m not alone,” Taylor shrugged. “I have my own detective with me.” Sam and Dean shared another look. “Okay, quit with the silent conversations, and tell me what’s up.”
Dean pulled a face at Sam –one saying, you try, I’ve had enough, and leant back in his chair. Sam sighed. “Do you know why what makes Centralia so famous?”
“Centralia? Famous?” she scoffed. “It’s got a population of what? Twenty?”
“Yes, but the reason for that is why the place is famous,” Sam explained patiently. “Centralia was a coal mining community, but in the sixties there was a fire in one of the mines, and the town was evacuated.”
“And a fire makes it famous?” Taylor asked sceptically.
“The fire is still burning,” Dean told her.
“And?”
“Well, it’s not safe, is it?” Dean asked her, impatiently.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “If that’s the case, then why are there still people living here?”
“We’re trying to evacuate them,” Dean cried, slamming his fist on the table.
Watching Sam fire a warning look at Dean, Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Can I see some ID?”
Clearly not impressed, Dean pulled out an ID and flashed it at her. Not quickly enough for Taylor to not catch a certain piece of information. “And why would two cops from Missouri be so interested in evacuating a town in the middle of the boonies of Pennsylvania? That is,” she added, cutting Dean off from speaking. “If you really are cops, and considering your license plates say Kansas, you’re probably not from Missouri, and therefore probably not actually cops.”
“Is everything alright?”
Taylor looked up and found Flack behind Sam and Dean, trying to hear the conversation. She smiled at him. “We’re fine,” she told him, shooting Dean a glare. “Just discussing the merits of dating a cop.”
Flack gave her a funny look. “Alright… well, I spoke to the mechanic, Joe. He says that he can have it ready by seven, but as an apology for not spotting it earlier, he’ll put us up in the B&B, for tonight.”
Taylor glanced at her watch. She really didn’t feel like driving through the night, and there were certain benefits to spending another night away from home with Flack. “That sounds like a plan,” she grinned. Flack returned the grin. It was evident that he had the same thoughts. Taylor rose to her feet.
“You can’t stay in the B&B,” Dean blurted out. “It’s not safe.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “And why, pray tell, would that be?”
Sam shot his brother a glare. “It has rats.”
Taylor laughed. “I’ve been living in New York for the last ten years. Rats really aren’t that big of a deal. Now, if you will excuse me, I really want to get out of these wet things.”
“Well?” Flack asked her.
“It looks like the radiator,” Taylor told him. Flack groaned, kicking the car’s tire. “Hey!” Taylor cried. “It’s not the car’s fault.” Flack shot her a look. “What? You had a mechanic check it out – blame it on him.” She marched around to the trunk, pulled out a bag and her purse, and went back to the front dropping the hood shut, “Come on.”
“What?”
“Alright, you stay here. I’m walking back to Centralia and getting a tow truck out here.”
“You are not walking back by yourself,” Flack told her.
“Then get a move on. I don’t want to be out in this rain any longer than I have to.”
Half an hour later, they walked back into Centralia. With the black rain clouds as a backdrop, Centralia looked even more depressing. They headed straight for the garage where the mechanic agreed to go get the car.
“You dry off,” Flack told her, “I’ll go back and get the car.”
Taylor nodded and headed straight for the only diner in the town. With the bell on the door still jangling loudly, she ordered a cup of hot chocolate and sat down at a table, dropping her head on the table.
“I thought you were leaving town?”
Taylor looked up through her soaking hair and found the bad-boy looking down at her, with the other guy, both looking a combination of worried and alarmed. “Car trouble,” she told them.
“You were supposed to be keeping an eye on that,” the bad-boy said to the college guy in a whisper, which Taylor caught, giving them a look.
“What’s the problem?” she asked them warily.
The two of them looked at each other and then sat down at the table with her. “You need to get out of here,” the bad-boy said.
“Alright, who are you?” Taylor demanded, suddenly fed up with the games.
The two shared another look, “I’m Sam,” said the college boy. “And this is Dean.”
“We’re Detectives, and it’s not safe here,” said Dean.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere in a hurry. The radiator’s cracked, and that isn’t a ten minute job. Besides, I’m not alone,” Taylor shrugged. “I have my own detective with me.” Sam and Dean shared another look. “Okay, quit with the silent conversations, and tell me what’s up.”
Dean pulled a face at Sam –one saying, you try, I’ve had enough, and leant back in his chair. Sam sighed. “Do you know why what makes Centralia so famous?”
“Centralia? Famous?” she scoffed. “It’s got a population of what? Twenty?”
“Yes, but the reason for that is why the place is famous,” Sam explained patiently. “Centralia was a coal mining community, but in the sixties there was a fire in one of the mines, and the town was evacuated.”
“And a fire makes it famous?” Taylor asked sceptically.
“The fire is still burning,” Dean told her.
“And?”
“Well, it’s not safe, is it?” Dean asked her, impatiently.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “If that’s the case, then why are there still people living here?”
“We’re trying to evacuate them,” Dean cried, slamming his fist on the table.
Watching Sam fire a warning look at Dean, Taylor narrowed her eyes. “Can I see some ID?”
Clearly not impressed, Dean pulled out an ID and flashed it at her. Not quickly enough for Taylor to not catch a certain piece of information. “And why would two cops from Missouri be so interested in evacuating a town in the middle of the boonies of Pennsylvania? That is,” she added, cutting Dean off from speaking. “If you really are cops, and considering your license plates say Kansas, you’re probably not from Missouri, and therefore probably not actually cops.”
“Is everything alright?”
Taylor looked up and found Flack behind Sam and Dean, trying to hear the conversation. She smiled at him. “We’re fine,” she told him, shooting Dean a glare. “Just discussing the merits of dating a cop.”
Flack gave her a funny look. “Alright… well, I spoke to the mechanic, Joe. He says that he can have it ready by seven, but as an apology for not spotting it earlier, he’ll put us up in the B&B, for tonight.”
Taylor glanced at her watch. She really didn’t feel like driving through the night, and there were certain benefits to spending another night away from home with Flack. “That sounds like a plan,” she grinned. Flack returned the grin. It was evident that he had the same thoughts. Taylor rose to her feet.
“You can’t stay in the B&B,” Dean blurted out. “It’s not safe.”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “And why, pray tell, would that be?”
Sam shot his brother a glare. “It has rats.”
Taylor laughed. “I’ve been living in New York for the last ten years. Rats really aren’t that big of a deal. Now, if you will excuse me, I really want to get out of these wet things.”
Originally posted 09/06/2007