Taylor headed next door to the crime lab, leaving Flack to continue with whatever it was he was doing, and quickly located Hawkes. She wasn’t surprised to find Maddy there. Taylor shot her dead friend a disapproving
look. “Hey Sheldon. How’s it going?”
Hawkes looked up from the clothes he was examining. “Hi Taylor. Not too bad,” he frowned. “Can’t stand these glass walls though.”
Taylor sat down opposite of him. “And why would that be?”
“Because I swear I’m being watched.”
Taylor shot Maddy a pointed look as Sheldon returned his attention to the jacket in front of him. “Really?” she asked him when Maddy took the hint and disappeared.
Hawkes sighed, “I think Mac is still keeping an eye on me.”
Taylor glanced over her shoulder. “Is he still here?”
Hawkes shook his head, “I think he disappeared up town to follow up on a lead. And yet I still feel like I’m being watched.”
“How’s it going with this case?” Taylor asked him, quickly changing the subject – much as Sheldon was receptive to ghosts, she didn’t think he’d appreciated the fact he was being haunted.
“To be honest, we don’t have much.”
“Well, I have an ID,” Angell said, bounding into the room. Upon seeing Taylor, she let out an excited squeal and dashed over, wrapping her arms around the stunned journalist. “Congratulations!”
Taylor pushed her away. “Jess, I’m not pregnant,” she calmly told the excited detective (causing Hawkes to splutter).
“Really?” Jess looked crestfallen.
“Really,” Taylor told her firmly.
“Oh,” Jess turned red, “I kinda already gave Flack a card.”
Taylor nodded. “And a cigar. I noticed.”
“You thought she was pregnant?” Hawkes asked.
Angell nodded her head sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Hawkes laughed. “Taylor with kids is an even more daunting thought than Messer with kids.”
Taylor’s jaw hit the floor, “Sheldon? I thought we were friends?”
“Sorry to break it to you,” he told her with a twinkle in his eye.
“Ok,” Angell interrupted. “Moving on because I am slightly embarrassed, our vic was one Davin Loeffler.”
“What’ve we got on him?” Hawkes asked, all business again.
Angell frowned and pulled out her notebook. “There are rumours he’s involved with the Døds Forbannelse, but nothing has been confirmed.”
“Døds Forbannelse?” Taylor’s forehead wrinkled up as she tried to remember where she had heard that name before.
“They’re one of the five major gangs in the city,” Angell explained to her.
“The Brooklyn Bullets,” Taylor murmured, cursing under breath as she realised what the ghost had been trying to tell her.
“What about them?” Angell asked her.
Taylor stared helplessly at Hawkes. Catching on, he nodded. “Come on, Jess. Let’s run with the gang angle.”
“Yeah, I gotta go,” Taylor said quickly, dashing out of the room before Angell could say anything.
She was in the elevator when the second ghost showed up. “Keep out of this,” he growled, and then he shoved her so her back slammed into the back of the elevator.
Winded, she slumped down to the floor, “Aiden,” she managed to gasp. As the ghost made to hit her again, Aiden flew through one side of the lift, grabbed the ghost and the two flew through the other side.
As the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor, she pulled herself to her feet, clutching the back of her head which had made contact with the wall. She made her way outside, but stumbled into someone. She muttered an apology over her shoulder, but stopped when she was addressed.
“Nancy Drew?”
Taylor frowned, not recognising the girly voice, and turned. The street was relatively busy, but the only person talking to her, was, well, wearing red fishnets, big black Doc Martins with red laces, a black vest top with red net top over that, one red glove, bright red lipstick, the bluest eyes, surrounded by a heavy layer of eyeliner, and black dreadlocks with occasional red tendril of hair in them. Taylor’s eyes dropped to the tattoos which littered the girls pale skin, then flicked back up to her face. “Do I know you?”
The girl smiled. “You’re the girl who’s not Blue-eyes’ girlfriend.”
Taylor frowned, racking her brains. “Don has blue eyes.”
“Don? I’m talking about that cute detective with glasses.”
Suddenly it hit her. “You’re a SuicideGirl.”
The SuicideGirl nodded. “Nixon,” she chirped, holding her gloved hand out. Taylor took it and shook,
surprised at the girl’s firm grip. “And how is Blue Eyes?”
“I take it you mean Danny?”
Nixon shrugged, still smiling. “I’m fine with Blue Eyes.”
Taylor couldn’t help but grin. “He’s fine.”
“Is he still single?”
Taylor bit her lip, a plan forming. Don was going to kill her. “What are you doing this evening?”
Nixon smiled. “You’re cute, but unless your boyfriend wants in, I’m –”
Taylor held her hands up. “Not me. Blue Eyes.”
“Well, in that case,” Nixon beamed, “I could find some time.”
Taylor beamed back.
look. “Hey Sheldon. How’s it going?”
Hawkes looked up from the clothes he was examining. “Hi Taylor. Not too bad,” he frowned. “Can’t stand these glass walls though.”
Taylor sat down opposite of him. “And why would that be?”
“Because I swear I’m being watched.”
Taylor shot Maddy a pointed look as Sheldon returned his attention to the jacket in front of him. “Really?” she asked him when Maddy took the hint and disappeared.
Hawkes sighed, “I think Mac is still keeping an eye on me.”
Taylor glanced over her shoulder. “Is he still here?”
Hawkes shook his head, “I think he disappeared up town to follow up on a lead. And yet I still feel like I’m being watched.”
“How’s it going with this case?” Taylor asked him, quickly changing the subject – much as Sheldon was receptive to ghosts, she didn’t think he’d appreciated the fact he was being haunted.
“To be honest, we don’t have much.”
“Well, I have an ID,” Angell said, bounding into the room. Upon seeing Taylor, she let out an excited squeal and dashed over, wrapping her arms around the stunned journalist. “Congratulations!”
Taylor pushed her away. “Jess, I’m not pregnant,” she calmly told the excited detective (causing Hawkes to splutter).
“Really?” Jess looked crestfallen.
“Really,” Taylor told her firmly.
“Oh,” Jess turned red, “I kinda already gave Flack a card.”
Taylor nodded. “And a cigar. I noticed.”
“You thought she was pregnant?” Hawkes asked.
Angell nodded her head sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Hawkes laughed. “Taylor with kids is an even more daunting thought than Messer with kids.”
Taylor’s jaw hit the floor, “Sheldon? I thought we were friends?”
“Sorry to break it to you,” he told her with a twinkle in his eye.
“Ok,” Angell interrupted. “Moving on because I am slightly embarrassed, our vic was one Davin Loeffler.”
“What’ve we got on him?” Hawkes asked, all business again.
Angell frowned and pulled out her notebook. “There are rumours he’s involved with the Døds Forbannelse, but nothing has been confirmed.”
“Døds Forbannelse?” Taylor’s forehead wrinkled up as she tried to remember where she had heard that name before.
“They’re one of the five major gangs in the city,” Angell explained to her.
“The Brooklyn Bullets,” Taylor murmured, cursing under breath as she realised what the ghost had been trying to tell her.
“What about them?” Angell asked her.
Taylor stared helplessly at Hawkes. Catching on, he nodded. “Come on, Jess. Let’s run with the gang angle.”
“Yeah, I gotta go,” Taylor said quickly, dashing out of the room before Angell could say anything.
She was in the elevator when the second ghost showed up. “Keep out of this,” he growled, and then he shoved her so her back slammed into the back of the elevator.
Winded, she slumped down to the floor, “Aiden,” she managed to gasp. As the ghost made to hit her again, Aiden flew through one side of the lift, grabbed the ghost and the two flew through the other side.
As the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor, she pulled herself to her feet, clutching the back of her head which had made contact with the wall. She made her way outside, but stumbled into someone. She muttered an apology over her shoulder, but stopped when she was addressed.
“Nancy Drew?”
Taylor frowned, not recognising the girly voice, and turned. The street was relatively busy, but the only person talking to her, was, well, wearing red fishnets, big black Doc Martins with red laces, a black vest top with red net top over that, one red glove, bright red lipstick, the bluest eyes, surrounded by a heavy layer of eyeliner, and black dreadlocks with occasional red tendril of hair in them. Taylor’s eyes dropped to the tattoos which littered the girls pale skin, then flicked back up to her face. “Do I know you?”
The girl smiled. “You’re the girl who’s not Blue-eyes’ girlfriend.”
Taylor frowned, racking her brains. “Don has blue eyes.”
“Don? I’m talking about that cute detective with glasses.”
Suddenly it hit her. “You’re a SuicideGirl.”
The SuicideGirl nodded. “Nixon,” she chirped, holding her gloved hand out. Taylor took it and shook,
surprised at the girl’s firm grip. “And how is Blue Eyes?”
“I take it you mean Danny?”
Nixon shrugged, still smiling. “I’m fine with Blue Eyes.”
Taylor couldn’t help but grin. “He’s fine.”
“Is he still single?”
Taylor bit her lip, a plan forming. Don was going to kill her. “What are you doing this evening?”
Nixon smiled. “You’re cute, but unless your boyfriend wants in, I’m –”
Taylor held her hands up. “Not me. Blue Eyes.”
“Well, in that case,” Nixon beamed, “I could find some time.”
Taylor beamed back.
* * *
Taylor was curled up with Flack on the couch, watching Bad Boys later that evening, when her cell phone rang. Seeing Danny’s name, she flipped it open. “Hey Messer,” she greeted, preparing herself for the insults to come.
“Evening Taylor.”
Taylor frowned – Danny sounded a little too cheerful, considering he was supposed to have been on a date from hell. And he was calling her Taylor? “How’d the date go?” Next to her, Flack looked sharply at her.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You’re… what?” Taylor blinked.
“I had a great night.”
“You did?”
Earlier that evening…
Danny blew into his hand to smell his breath – still minty – then stepped into the trendy little bar. It was pretty empty, but he was early. He walked over to the bar, took a seat and ordered a beer. He was still contemplating if it was such a good idea – he had only just broken up with Lindsay, after all – but if Taylor was sure, maybe he was ready for a bit of fun.
And that was when a bubble of energy sat down in the seat next to him. “Hello Blue Eyes,” it chirped at him.
Danny did a double take – Taylor had set him up with Nixon? "Nixon?”
“You remembered,” she smiled at him.
“I, uh, I didn’t know you knew Taylor,” he stammered, still in shock.
Nixon shrugged, “I don’t. I bumped into her this afternoon.” Danny arched his eyebrow, and took a mouthful of his beer. “You know, cocktails are more fun,” she told him as she ordered her drink.
Danny looked down at her drink. “And what’s that?”
Nixon grinned. “A Nixon, of course.”
Danny had to laugh. “Alright, and what would you recommend for me?”
Nixon’s grin grew. “Hang on.” She waved the barman over and whispered something in his ear. A couple of minutes later, a blue drink was placed in front of Danny.
"What’s this?” he asked, sniffing the liquid.
“Try it,” Nixon told him, instead of replying. Danny gave it on last sniff before taking a sip. It was actually surprisingly good. “It’s called a Blue Eyes,” Nixon winked at him.
Danny laughed again. “Clever. But don’t you think I look too girly drinking a cocktail?”
“You look a few things, but girly isn’t one of them,” Nixon told him.
"So,” he said, clearing his throat. “What do you do, Nixon Suicide?”
Nixon shrugged. “You answered the question there.”
“Yeah, but what do you do?”
Nixon smiled patiently. “Buy me a couple more cocktails and maybe I’ll tell you.”
A couple of hours later, Danny glanced at his watch, surprised at how the time had flown. He’d been having a really good evening, despite his reservations, and Nixon was actually really intelligent and up-to-date on her current affairs. She was funny, too, in that subtle way, but she had had him in stitches at several points. And she was just generally happy, seemingly without some great secret – and if she had a secret, she would have told him, because she was open about everything. Even the fact she had a criminal record (she’d been in juvie for fighting one time too many).
The date had actually been fun, and he’d come home feeling incredibly relaxed, with the promise of another date the following weekend…
“You ever watched a roller derby?” Nixon asked him suddenly.
Danny chuckled. “You went from frogs to roller derby?” he shook his head. “Never watched it.”
“You wanna?” Nixon asked him. “I know one of the girls on the Queens of Pain. They’re playing next Saturday.”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
They had gone home shortly after that, numbers exchanged. He had settled into his bed when his phone beeped. He flicked it open and found a picture message of Nixon, wearing very little. Maybe you’ll see it in the flesh next time. Danny laughed. She certainly wasn’t shy. And then he rang Taylor.
“Evening Taylor.”
Taylor frowned – Danny sounded a little too cheerful, considering he was supposed to have been on a date from hell. And he was calling her Taylor? “How’d the date go?” Next to her, Flack looked sharply at her.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“You’re… what?” Taylor blinked.
“I had a great night.”
“You did?”
Earlier that evening…
Danny blew into his hand to smell his breath – still minty – then stepped into the trendy little bar. It was pretty empty, but he was early. He walked over to the bar, took a seat and ordered a beer. He was still contemplating if it was such a good idea – he had only just broken up with Lindsay, after all – but if Taylor was sure, maybe he was ready for a bit of fun.
And that was when a bubble of energy sat down in the seat next to him. “Hello Blue Eyes,” it chirped at him.
Danny did a double take – Taylor had set him up with Nixon? "Nixon?”
“You remembered,” she smiled at him.
“I, uh, I didn’t know you knew Taylor,” he stammered, still in shock.
Nixon shrugged, “I don’t. I bumped into her this afternoon.” Danny arched his eyebrow, and took a mouthful of his beer. “You know, cocktails are more fun,” she told him as she ordered her drink.
Danny looked down at her drink. “And what’s that?”
Nixon grinned. “A Nixon, of course.”
Danny had to laugh. “Alright, and what would you recommend for me?”
Nixon’s grin grew. “Hang on.” She waved the barman over and whispered something in his ear. A couple of minutes later, a blue drink was placed in front of Danny.
"What’s this?” he asked, sniffing the liquid.
“Try it,” Nixon told him, instead of replying. Danny gave it on last sniff before taking a sip. It was actually surprisingly good. “It’s called a Blue Eyes,” Nixon winked at him.
Danny laughed again. “Clever. But don’t you think I look too girly drinking a cocktail?”
“You look a few things, but girly isn’t one of them,” Nixon told him.
"So,” he said, clearing his throat. “What do you do, Nixon Suicide?”
Nixon shrugged. “You answered the question there.”
“Yeah, but what do you do?”
Nixon smiled patiently. “Buy me a couple more cocktails and maybe I’ll tell you.”
A couple of hours later, Danny glanced at his watch, surprised at how the time had flown. He’d been having a really good evening, despite his reservations, and Nixon was actually really intelligent and up-to-date on her current affairs. She was funny, too, in that subtle way, but she had had him in stitches at several points. And she was just generally happy, seemingly without some great secret – and if she had a secret, she would have told him, because she was open about everything. Even the fact she had a criminal record (she’d been in juvie for fighting one time too many).
The date had actually been fun, and he’d come home feeling incredibly relaxed, with the promise of another date the following weekend…
“You ever watched a roller derby?” Nixon asked him suddenly.
Danny chuckled. “You went from frogs to roller derby?” he shook his head. “Never watched it.”
“You wanna?” Nixon asked him. “I know one of the girls on the Queens of Pain. They’re playing next Saturday.”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
They had gone home shortly after that, numbers exchanged. He had settled into his bed when his phone beeped. He flicked it open and found a picture message of Nixon, wearing very little. Maybe you’ll see it in the flesh next time. Danny laughed. She certainly wasn’t shy. And then he rang Taylor.
* * *
“You’re… what?” Taylor blinked.
“I had a great night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, we’re going out again next week. Roller derby.”
Taylor frowned. “A roller derby?”
“Yep, anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. And you were right. It was time to get out there.”
Taylor hung up, mouth open.
“What did you do?” Flack asked her suspiciously.
“Heh,” Taylor looked away. “Nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” Flack responded, clearly not buying it.
Taylor peered up at him, “IsetDannyupwithsomeonebuthelikedherandnowheandLindsayarenevergoingtobetogetherandyouwererightIshouldn’thavegotteninvolved.”
Flack blinked. “You know how important it is to breath, don’t ya?”
Taylor pulled a face. “I bumped into Nixon Suicide. That girl who was chatting to me and Danny, well, Danny, at the precinct the other morning,” she explained seeing Flack’s blank face. “Anyway, I set him up on a date. I didn’t think they’d have anything in common, he’d see how good Lindsay is, and they’d get back together.”
Flack stared at her. “Tay, Lindsay finished things with him. Not that it was going to work anyway, but you’d have been better setting Lindsay up with someone and then she’d have realised the person she wanted was Danny.” Taylor bit her lip then dropped her head into Flack’s side. Flack looked down at her. “I can’t hear you when you’re talking that closely to my ribs. And I know I’m crazy intelligent, but I can’t translate the vibrations in my rib cage into sentences.”
Taylor lifted her head and peered up at him, an unimpressed look on her face. “Fine. You were right, I was wrong. I’ll not meddle in future.” Then she dropped her face back into his side.
“I had a great night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, we’re going out again next week. Roller derby.”
Taylor frowned. “A roller derby?”
“Yep, anyway, I just wanted to say thank you. And you were right. It was time to get out there.”
Taylor hung up, mouth open.
“What did you do?” Flack asked her suspiciously.
“Heh,” Taylor looked away. “Nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” Flack responded, clearly not buying it.
Taylor peered up at him, “IsetDannyupwithsomeonebuthelikedherandnowheandLindsayarenevergoingtobetogetherandyouwererightIshouldn’thavegotteninvolved.”
Flack blinked. “You know how important it is to breath, don’t ya?”
Taylor pulled a face. “I bumped into Nixon Suicide. That girl who was chatting to me and Danny, well, Danny, at the precinct the other morning,” she explained seeing Flack’s blank face. “Anyway, I set him up on a date. I didn’t think they’d have anything in common, he’d see how good Lindsay is, and they’d get back together.”
Flack stared at her. “Tay, Lindsay finished things with him. Not that it was going to work anyway, but you’d have been better setting Lindsay up with someone and then she’d have realised the person she wanted was Danny.” Taylor bit her lip then dropped her head into Flack’s side. Flack looked down at her. “I can’t hear you when you’re talking that closely to my ribs. And I know I’m crazy intelligent, but I can’t translate the vibrations in my rib cage into sentences.”
Taylor lifted her head and peered up at him, an unimpressed look on her face. “Fine. You were right, I was wrong. I’ll not meddle in future.” Then she dropped her face back into his side.
Originally posted 01/09/2007