Taylor awoke the following morning, lying on her stomach, head buried under the pillow, to the piercing sound of the phone ringing. She reached out and fumbled around on the bedside table, trying to place her hand on the landline, without bothering to open her eyes. “Y'ello,” she groaned.
There was a pause down the phone, “Taylor?”
“Mac?” Taylor raised her other arm out from under the pillow and glanced at her watch. It was just after 5am. “What are you doing calling at this god forsaken hour? Is anything wrong?”
There was a long pause again. “The vic from your case. We pulled another girl from the Hudson – same MO.”
“Let me get a shower and I’ll be straight in.”
“Alright.” There was another pause. “Will you tell Flack too.”
Taylor frowned, why should she call him? Surely that was Mac’s job? Or at least Dispatch’s? “Yeah, sure,” she muttered, before hanging up the phone.
Instead of getting up, she flopped her head back on the pillow. She’d been in bed for something around three hours and she was still tired. As she shut her eyes, she became aware of the fact that she was still in the top she went out in last night. At least she had the privilege of an en-suite bathroom and wouldn’t have to face the potential embarrassment of facing her flatmate on the way to the bathroom.
And then she was aware of something else. A third hand. Which, as she stirred, pulled her closer to the body behind her. Pretty certain she hadn’t grown a Siamese twin during the night, she slowly turned her head. And screamed.
Flack’s eye shot wide open, and his hand flew off Taylor, and over his ears. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?” he yelled, as he jumped out of it.
“Your bed? It’s my bed?” Taylor yelled back, trying to leave the bed. Unfortunately, she got her feet caught up in the sheets and fell backwards off the bed, landing heavily on her back. “Umph!” was the sound that escaped her mouth as she landed. “Okay, my bed is higher than this. It hurts more when you fall out of it,” she moaned. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” Flack repeated.
Taylor looked up and saw him on his bed glaring down at her. Taylor looked at him, then at her bare legs, which were half on, half off the bed, tangled up in the bed sheets. “What the hell am I doing in your bed?”
“I just asked you that.”
“Now we all know why you decided to become a detective. Good at detecting things, aren’t you?” Taylor snarked back at him.
Flack groaned then fell back on his bed. “I have a hangover from hell. The last thing I need is you getting sarcastic.”
“You have a hangover?” Taylor asked in surprise. “Really? I feel fine.”
“Bull,” Flack responded, bluntly.
“No, really. I don’t get hangovers. I just don’t get much sleep.” She tried to pull herself to her feet, but, still not being quite the level of sober needed, and being well and truly tied up in the bed sheets, she lost her balance and fell back on the floor. “Okay… I’m still drunk. Hey, Flack, wanna give me a hand here?” she called.
“Not really,” came back his muffled reply. He had stuck a pillow over his head, hoping the feathers would numb the pounding in his head. It wasn’t working.
“Fine. I’ll stay on your floor, and try and come up with a suitable response for your girlfriend as to why I’m tied up in your sheets on your floor.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Flack corrected her, his voice still muffled.
“Fine, boyfriend. Same difference,” Taylor shrugged.
“Trust me when I say, I’d notice the difference.”
Taylor snorted. “Judging from last night, you wouldn’t notice anything.”
“Taylor, shut the hell up. I don’t need another headache at the moment,” he complained, still from under his pillow.
“You’re really grumpy when you’re hungover,” Taylor pointed out, matter-of-factly.
“How the hell did you manage to drink so much and remain so damn perky.”
“I told you, I don’t get hangovers. Jesus, not only are you grumpy, your short term memory stops working too.” Flack’s response was to mutter a long stream of expletives into his pillow. “Charming.” Taylor shut her eyes again. “You know, other than the fact I desperately need to brush my teeth because it feels like I didn’t last night and something crawled into my mouth and died, it’s actually quite comfortable here. I never took you for a carpet man. Thought you’d have wooden floors, but you proved,” Taylor stopped and opened her eyes.
Flack had clamped one of his hands around her calf, and was tugging at the bed sheet. “What the hell did you do last night? Wrap yourself in a cocoon?” he demanded.
Taylor shrugged. “As if I remember anything. Your hands are cold.”
“Yeah, well, by the looks of things, someone stole all the covers.”
“I have the whole butterfly thing going on. You know, emerging beautiful. You gotta admit, I don’t look too bad in the morning. Especially after the amount we drank last night. I remember everything up until the tequila shots. From the bottle I got from the bar. Oh my god, I managed to get a bottle from behind the bar. Ugh, I walked behind it and grabbed it too. Bribed the barman by giving him my number. Well, at least he won’t be calling me. I bet we caused some damage in-”
“Taylor!” yelled Flack, and then wincing at his own voice. “Do you need to talk so much? It’s bugging the hell outta me.”
“What is your obsession with hell?” she asked him, watching him struggle to detangle her.
“Right now, I feel like I’m in it. My head is killing me. And if I use anything other than hell, right now, I’m going to end up using the same words at some granny later today.”
Taylor laughed. “You keep with your obsession then. You know, perhaps an animal crawled into your head and died.”
“Damn it,” he cursed. “I wish I didn’t have a headache. Then I could tune you out like I normally do.”
Taylor’s mouth fell open. “You know how to make a girl feel special. Have you been taking tips from Danny? Because he,” she trailed off, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Flack, pass me my phone!”
“I am trying to untangle you!” he told her, through gritted teeth.
“Please! Trust me, you’ll like this!”
He sighed. “Where is it?” He got up and started walked around to Taylor’s side of the bed, in a line that was anything but straight.
“I don’t know,” Taylor glanced around the room. Being on the floor, she couldn’t see much, but she could tell the room looked like a bomb went off. “I knew I was messy, but Flack, this room is a tip and why the hell are you wearing just your boxers?” she squealed as she looked over at him. How had she not noticed that body before? No! That wasn’t the right thing to be thinking. How had she not noticed he was wearing very little earlier? Better.
Flack glanced down at himself smirked at her. “What? Never seen a guy in his underwear before?”
“Not with a body,” she froze.
“No, go on,” he urged, smirking again.
Taylor pointed at him, her mouth open to say something, but he’d got her there. “Have you found my cell yet?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Do you see anything in my hands?” he asked, waving them at her.
“Oh, now who’s getting sarcastic?” Taylor asked, rolling her eyes.
“Looks like you’re rubbing off on me then,” Flack retorted.
“I don’t know,” Taylor shrugged. “Looks more like your clothes got rubbed off.”
Flack looked around the room. “Judging from this mess, I’d say torn off.”
The two looked at each other. “Alright, we’re are about to step onto very dangerous territory here. How about you just pass me your phone?”
Flack nodded in agreement, reached down and grabbed his pants and pulled his cellphone from out of the pocket, tossing it to Taylor. “Knock yourself out.”
“I was going for your land line, but this will work.” She typed her number in and hit dial. From the other side of the room, Britney Spears started blasting out (You Drive Me) Crazy.
“Hang up,” Flack groaned, as he stumbled over to the other side of the room, grabbed the phone and collapsed on the bed. “Britney Spears?”
Taylor hung up. “Just toss it over here.” She caught the phone and began looking through it for something. Finding what she was after, she burst out laughing. “I knew I didn’t imagine it! Catch.” She flung her phone at Flack who caught it and stared in disbelief.
“How can I not remember this?” he asked, cracking up. “Wait 'til I see Danny.” It was the picture she’d taken the night before of Lindsay and Danny. “Do you think they’ll remember what happened?”
“Flack, I hate to state the obvious, but we don’t remember what happened.”
“I don’t think anything happened!” Flack quickly told her.
“I wasn’t talking about that. Clearly nothing happened. We’re still wearing our underwear, and I’m still tangled up in your sheets,” she hinted.
Flack returned to trying to untangle the sheets. “Look,” he said. “I think it might be for the best if we don’t mention this to anyone.”
“What? Me being tied to your bed?” Taylor asked, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? I have one up on Danny at the moment. I want it to stay like that.”
“Good.” He looked at Taylor who was biting her lip. “What?”
“I… I don’t think we have any choice in the matter,” she realised.
“What are you talking about?” Flack asked, warily.
“Um, Mac rang and told me that we had to get in as soon as possible.”
“Did you tell him you were here?”
“I didn’t have to. He rang your phone,” she told him, pointing to the one on his bedside table.
“Mac wouldn’t say anything?” he asked doubtfully.
Taylor shrugged. “You’re asking me? You’ve known him longer.”
“No, he wouldn’t. There you go.” Finally she was free.
“I do think we would be better keeping on his good side, though. Which means we should get to the hospital as soon as. Where’s your shower?” She got to her feet and looked around for her skirt
Flack shook his head. “Ha, I’m getting in it first.”
“And they say chivalry is dead. Just hurry up,” Taylor moaned.
Flack stopped and glared at her. “You’re telling me to hurry up in my own shower?”
“God, is your hangover affecting your hearing as well?” Taylor asked in frustration. Flack glared at her and stormed off. Taylor turned her attention to the room, picking up the clothing, and making the bed, in the process of gathering up a few of her things.
She headed out of the bedroom and across the open planned living room and dining room, stopping to look at the various photographs as she went. Flack as a kid, with his family, a work photo with the CSIs, although Lindsay wasn’t in it. There was another woman there, who had her arm wrapped around Danny. It must have been taken a fair while ago as Flack had longer hair.
The dining table was piled with laundry, ready to be ironed. Next to that pile was a pile of chemistry and biology books. Taylor picked up one of the chemistry text books and leafed through it. It contained stuff she’d covered in college. She picked up another book. It was a forensic textbook, and in it words and procedures had been underlined, with notes next to it in what Taylor recognised as Flack’s neat writing.
She smiled and headed into the kitchen. He was taking ages, and she was bored, so, spotting the coffee maker, turned it on. Personally, she only drank it when she needed to stay awake, but Flack struck her as a person who wouldn’t be able to function normally without coffee, let alone hungover.
Thinking about that, she rooted through his cupboards and found a box of aspirin. She left it on the side next to a mug she had plucked from the draining board. Then she turned her attention to the fridge. Steak, bacon, sausages, eggs, underneath containers of leftover cooked pasta, rice, and various other things. And then there was the fruit and vegetables. He had enough there to feed a family of rabbits for a very long time. And enough beer to re-sink the Titanic.
She pulled out the orange juice and shut the door. Taking a glass of it into the other room she settled down in front of the television and started flicking through the channels. She had managed to channel surf for about three minutes when Flack walked in, only wearing a towel. “Do you ever wear clothes in your own house?” she asked him.
“Anything interesting on?” he asked instead, nodding at the television.
“Not really. And I’m going in the shower now,” Taylor told him, turning it off.
Flack grabbed a towel off his table and flung it at her. “You’ll need this.”
Taylor smiled and headed into the bathroom. She took off her watch and jumped in. She stared at all his shower products and smiled. He had more lined up across his bath than she did at all. And that was when she included her make-up. She grabbed a bottle and had a quick shower – the hot water lasted long enough to pick the shower gel up.
As she got out and wrapped herself up in the towel, she looked at his sink, and at his toothbrush. Ignoring the fact he had just used it, she borrowed it anyway – anything was better than the morning-after taste of stale tequila and lime.
Washed and redressed in the same clothes, she left the shower to find that he was dressed in a clean blue shirt and dark blue suit, and was stood in front of a mirror fastening his tie. Which was orange. She chuckled and went to the table, plucking out a silver and blue one. “Are you colour blind, or is that just the beer goggles?”
Flack pulled a face at her and switched the ties. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way.”
“Feel guilty for using up all the hot water then?” she asked him, taking control of tying the tie.
“No. Not really. Are you wearing the same clothes to work?” he asked, after giving her appearance the once over.
“Flack, I have no other clothes here. But the only other option is to borrow some of your clothes and everything would hang off me.”
“Whatever. And call me Don,” he added.
“Ah, so a night in your bed, and we’re on first name terms,” she noted with a grin.
“Yeah, still not had enough coffee yet.” He grabbed his jacket and put it on. “Are you ready?” He picked up his badge, gun and wallet, and made to go for his car keys.
“Don’t even think about it,” Taylor told him slowly.
“What?”
“Do you want me to get a breath analyser out?” she asked, her hands making her way to her hips.
“Do you have one?” he asked, jerking his head about slightly.
“Not the point, Flack. You are still over the limit and there is no way I am letting you in a car.”
Flack glared at her. “So how are we going to get there?”
“You have these two things attached to you called legs,” she told him, pointing to her own. “Let’s try using them today.”
“I thought Mac wanted us as soon as possible?”
“Yeah, but it’s already after six thirty, because someone took forever in the bathroom. What’s an extra twenty minutes gonna do. Besides, it’s better to get there alive and late, than getting there and ending up on a morgue slab,” she pointed out.
“And what about getting back?”
Taylor threw her arms up in the air. “I live a couple of blocks from the lab. I will personally drive you home after work, Flack.”
“I thought I told you to call me Don?” he asked with a frown.
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll call you Don when you’re not being a jerk. Now hurry up.” She ushered him out of his apartment and out of the building. “If I can manage to walk in these heels, you can walk fine.”
“Taylor, the headache is still here and you are not doing anything to relieve it.” Taylor nodded and walked up to a street vendor selling hot dogs. “I don’t think they’ll help this early in the morning.”
Taylor just pulled a face at him and bought a bottle of water. She thrust the bottle at him and carried on walking. “You should try and drink a bottle for every unit you’ve drank. Get started, it may take a while,” she told him, before tucking into the hot dog.
They walked in silence for a while. “Who on earth wants to eat hot dogs at this time in a morning?” Flack muttered.
There was a pause down the phone, “Taylor?”
“Mac?” Taylor raised her other arm out from under the pillow and glanced at her watch. It was just after 5am. “What are you doing calling at this god forsaken hour? Is anything wrong?”
There was a long pause again. “The vic from your case. We pulled another girl from the Hudson – same MO.”
“Let me get a shower and I’ll be straight in.”
“Alright.” There was another pause. “Will you tell Flack too.”
Taylor frowned, why should she call him? Surely that was Mac’s job? Or at least Dispatch’s? “Yeah, sure,” she muttered, before hanging up the phone.
Instead of getting up, she flopped her head back on the pillow. She’d been in bed for something around three hours and she was still tired. As she shut her eyes, she became aware of the fact that she was still in the top she went out in last night. At least she had the privilege of an en-suite bathroom and wouldn’t have to face the potential embarrassment of facing her flatmate on the way to the bathroom.
And then she was aware of something else. A third hand. Which, as she stirred, pulled her closer to the body behind her. Pretty certain she hadn’t grown a Siamese twin during the night, she slowly turned her head. And screamed.
Flack’s eye shot wide open, and his hand flew off Taylor, and over his ears. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?” he yelled, as he jumped out of it.
“Your bed? It’s my bed?” Taylor yelled back, trying to leave the bed. Unfortunately, she got her feet caught up in the sheets and fell backwards off the bed, landing heavily on her back. “Umph!” was the sound that escaped her mouth as she landed. “Okay, my bed is higher than this. It hurts more when you fall out of it,” she moaned. Her eyes were clamped tightly shut.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” Flack repeated.
Taylor looked up and saw him on his bed glaring down at her. Taylor looked at him, then at her bare legs, which were half on, half off the bed, tangled up in the bed sheets. “What the hell am I doing in your bed?”
“I just asked you that.”
“Now we all know why you decided to become a detective. Good at detecting things, aren’t you?” Taylor snarked back at him.
Flack groaned then fell back on his bed. “I have a hangover from hell. The last thing I need is you getting sarcastic.”
“You have a hangover?” Taylor asked in surprise. “Really? I feel fine.”
“Bull,” Flack responded, bluntly.
“No, really. I don’t get hangovers. I just don’t get much sleep.” She tried to pull herself to her feet, but, still not being quite the level of sober needed, and being well and truly tied up in the bed sheets, she lost her balance and fell back on the floor. “Okay… I’m still drunk. Hey, Flack, wanna give me a hand here?” she called.
“Not really,” came back his muffled reply. He had stuck a pillow over his head, hoping the feathers would numb the pounding in his head. It wasn’t working.
“Fine. I’ll stay on your floor, and try and come up with a suitable response for your girlfriend as to why I’m tied up in your sheets on your floor.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Flack corrected her, his voice still muffled.
“Fine, boyfriend. Same difference,” Taylor shrugged.
“Trust me when I say, I’d notice the difference.”
Taylor snorted. “Judging from last night, you wouldn’t notice anything.”
“Taylor, shut the hell up. I don’t need another headache at the moment,” he complained, still from under his pillow.
“You’re really grumpy when you’re hungover,” Taylor pointed out, matter-of-factly.
“How the hell did you manage to drink so much and remain so damn perky.”
“I told you, I don’t get hangovers. Jesus, not only are you grumpy, your short term memory stops working too.” Flack’s response was to mutter a long stream of expletives into his pillow. “Charming.” Taylor shut her eyes again. “You know, other than the fact I desperately need to brush my teeth because it feels like I didn’t last night and something crawled into my mouth and died, it’s actually quite comfortable here. I never took you for a carpet man. Thought you’d have wooden floors, but you proved,” Taylor stopped and opened her eyes.
Flack had clamped one of his hands around her calf, and was tugging at the bed sheet. “What the hell did you do last night? Wrap yourself in a cocoon?” he demanded.
Taylor shrugged. “As if I remember anything. Your hands are cold.”
“Yeah, well, by the looks of things, someone stole all the covers.”
“I have the whole butterfly thing going on. You know, emerging beautiful. You gotta admit, I don’t look too bad in the morning. Especially after the amount we drank last night. I remember everything up until the tequila shots. From the bottle I got from the bar. Oh my god, I managed to get a bottle from behind the bar. Ugh, I walked behind it and grabbed it too. Bribed the barman by giving him my number. Well, at least he won’t be calling me. I bet we caused some damage in-”
“Taylor!” yelled Flack, and then wincing at his own voice. “Do you need to talk so much? It’s bugging the hell outta me.”
“What is your obsession with hell?” she asked him, watching him struggle to detangle her.
“Right now, I feel like I’m in it. My head is killing me. And if I use anything other than hell, right now, I’m going to end up using the same words at some granny later today.”
Taylor laughed. “You keep with your obsession then. You know, perhaps an animal crawled into your head and died.”
“Damn it,” he cursed. “I wish I didn’t have a headache. Then I could tune you out like I normally do.”
Taylor’s mouth fell open. “You know how to make a girl feel special. Have you been taking tips from Danny? Because he,” she trailed off, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Flack, pass me my phone!”
“I am trying to untangle you!” he told her, through gritted teeth.
“Please! Trust me, you’ll like this!”
He sighed. “Where is it?” He got up and started walked around to Taylor’s side of the bed, in a line that was anything but straight.
“I don’t know,” Taylor glanced around the room. Being on the floor, she couldn’t see much, but she could tell the room looked like a bomb went off. “I knew I was messy, but Flack, this room is a tip and why the hell are you wearing just your boxers?” she squealed as she looked over at him. How had she not noticed that body before? No! That wasn’t the right thing to be thinking. How had she not noticed he was wearing very little earlier? Better.
Flack glanced down at himself smirked at her. “What? Never seen a guy in his underwear before?”
“Not with a body,” she froze.
“No, go on,” he urged, smirking again.
Taylor pointed at him, her mouth open to say something, but he’d got her there. “Have you found my cell yet?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Do you see anything in my hands?” he asked, waving them at her.
“Oh, now who’s getting sarcastic?” Taylor asked, rolling her eyes.
“Looks like you’re rubbing off on me then,” Flack retorted.
“I don’t know,” Taylor shrugged. “Looks more like your clothes got rubbed off.”
Flack looked around the room. “Judging from this mess, I’d say torn off.”
The two looked at each other. “Alright, we’re are about to step onto very dangerous territory here. How about you just pass me your phone?”
Flack nodded in agreement, reached down and grabbed his pants and pulled his cellphone from out of the pocket, tossing it to Taylor. “Knock yourself out.”
“I was going for your land line, but this will work.” She typed her number in and hit dial. From the other side of the room, Britney Spears started blasting out (You Drive Me) Crazy.
“Hang up,” Flack groaned, as he stumbled over to the other side of the room, grabbed the phone and collapsed on the bed. “Britney Spears?”
Taylor hung up. “Just toss it over here.” She caught the phone and began looking through it for something. Finding what she was after, she burst out laughing. “I knew I didn’t imagine it! Catch.” She flung her phone at Flack who caught it and stared in disbelief.
“How can I not remember this?” he asked, cracking up. “Wait 'til I see Danny.” It was the picture she’d taken the night before of Lindsay and Danny. “Do you think they’ll remember what happened?”
“Flack, I hate to state the obvious, but we don’t remember what happened.”
“I don’t think anything happened!” Flack quickly told her.
“I wasn’t talking about that. Clearly nothing happened. We’re still wearing our underwear, and I’m still tangled up in your sheets,” she hinted.
Flack returned to trying to untangle the sheets. “Look,” he said. “I think it might be for the best if we don’t mention this to anyone.”
“What? Me being tied to your bed?” Taylor asked, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? I have one up on Danny at the moment. I want it to stay like that.”
“Good.” He looked at Taylor who was biting her lip. “What?”
“I… I don’t think we have any choice in the matter,” she realised.
“What are you talking about?” Flack asked, warily.
“Um, Mac rang and told me that we had to get in as soon as possible.”
“Did you tell him you were here?”
“I didn’t have to. He rang your phone,” she told him, pointing to the one on his bedside table.
“Mac wouldn’t say anything?” he asked doubtfully.
Taylor shrugged. “You’re asking me? You’ve known him longer.”
“No, he wouldn’t. There you go.” Finally she was free.
“I do think we would be better keeping on his good side, though. Which means we should get to the hospital as soon as. Where’s your shower?” She got to her feet and looked around for her skirt
Flack shook his head. “Ha, I’m getting in it first.”
“And they say chivalry is dead. Just hurry up,” Taylor moaned.
Flack stopped and glared at her. “You’re telling me to hurry up in my own shower?”
“God, is your hangover affecting your hearing as well?” Taylor asked in frustration. Flack glared at her and stormed off. Taylor turned her attention to the room, picking up the clothing, and making the bed, in the process of gathering up a few of her things.
She headed out of the bedroom and across the open planned living room and dining room, stopping to look at the various photographs as she went. Flack as a kid, with his family, a work photo with the CSIs, although Lindsay wasn’t in it. There was another woman there, who had her arm wrapped around Danny. It must have been taken a fair while ago as Flack had longer hair.
The dining table was piled with laundry, ready to be ironed. Next to that pile was a pile of chemistry and biology books. Taylor picked up one of the chemistry text books and leafed through it. It contained stuff she’d covered in college. She picked up another book. It was a forensic textbook, and in it words and procedures had been underlined, with notes next to it in what Taylor recognised as Flack’s neat writing.
She smiled and headed into the kitchen. He was taking ages, and she was bored, so, spotting the coffee maker, turned it on. Personally, she only drank it when she needed to stay awake, but Flack struck her as a person who wouldn’t be able to function normally without coffee, let alone hungover.
Thinking about that, she rooted through his cupboards and found a box of aspirin. She left it on the side next to a mug she had plucked from the draining board. Then she turned her attention to the fridge. Steak, bacon, sausages, eggs, underneath containers of leftover cooked pasta, rice, and various other things. And then there was the fruit and vegetables. He had enough there to feed a family of rabbits for a very long time. And enough beer to re-sink the Titanic.
She pulled out the orange juice and shut the door. Taking a glass of it into the other room she settled down in front of the television and started flicking through the channels. She had managed to channel surf for about three minutes when Flack walked in, only wearing a towel. “Do you ever wear clothes in your own house?” she asked him.
“Anything interesting on?” he asked instead, nodding at the television.
“Not really. And I’m going in the shower now,” Taylor told him, turning it off.
Flack grabbed a towel off his table and flung it at her. “You’ll need this.”
Taylor smiled and headed into the bathroom. She took off her watch and jumped in. She stared at all his shower products and smiled. He had more lined up across his bath than she did at all. And that was when she included her make-up. She grabbed a bottle and had a quick shower – the hot water lasted long enough to pick the shower gel up.
As she got out and wrapped herself up in the towel, she looked at his sink, and at his toothbrush. Ignoring the fact he had just used it, she borrowed it anyway – anything was better than the morning-after taste of stale tequila and lime.
Washed and redressed in the same clothes, she left the shower to find that he was dressed in a clean blue shirt and dark blue suit, and was stood in front of a mirror fastening his tie. Which was orange. She chuckled and went to the table, plucking out a silver and blue one. “Are you colour blind, or is that just the beer goggles?”
Flack pulled a face at her and switched the ties. “Thanks for the coffee, by the way.”
“Feel guilty for using up all the hot water then?” she asked him, taking control of tying the tie.
“No. Not really. Are you wearing the same clothes to work?” he asked, after giving her appearance the once over.
“Flack, I have no other clothes here. But the only other option is to borrow some of your clothes and everything would hang off me.”
“Whatever. And call me Don,” he added.
“Ah, so a night in your bed, and we’re on first name terms,” she noted with a grin.
“Yeah, still not had enough coffee yet.” He grabbed his jacket and put it on. “Are you ready?” He picked up his badge, gun and wallet, and made to go for his car keys.
“Don’t even think about it,” Taylor told him slowly.
“What?”
“Do you want me to get a breath analyser out?” she asked, her hands making her way to her hips.
“Do you have one?” he asked, jerking his head about slightly.
“Not the point, Flack. You are still over the limit and there is no way I am letting you in a car.”
Flack glared at her. “So how are we going to get there?”
“You have these two things attached to you called legs,” she told him, pointing to her own. “Let’s try using them today.”
“I thought Mac wanted us as soon as possible?”
“Yeah, but it’s already after six thirty, because someone took forever in the bathroom. What’s an extra twenty minutes gonna do. Besides, it’s better to get there alive and late, than getting there and ending up on a morgue slab,” she pointed out.
“And what about getting back?”
Taylor threw her arms up in the air. “I live a couple of blocks from the lab. I will personally drive you home after work, Flack.”
“I thought I told you to call me Don?” he asked with a frown.
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll call you Don when you’re not being a jerk. Now hurry up.” She ushered him out of his apartment and out of the building. “If I can manage to walk in these heels, you can walk fine.”
“Taylor, the headache is still here and you are not doing anything to relieve it.” Taylor nodded and walked up to a street vendor selling hot dogs. “I don’t think they’ll help this early in the morning.”
Taylor just pulled a face at him and bought a bottle of water. She thrust the bottle at him and carried on walking. “You should try and drink a bottle for every unit you’ve drank. Get started, it may take a while,” she told him, before tucking into the hot dog.
They walked in silence for a while. “Who on earth wants to eat hot dogs at this time in a morning?” Flack muttered.
Originally posted: 06/06/2006