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If These Walls Could Talk...
By Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: Mine, mine, all mine!! Yep, that's what Hal McElroy keeps telling us.
Author's Note: This story is sex. Just sex, no attempts of plot or anything but sex. Read.. only if you are willing to have a cold, cold shower afterwards
Rating.. I'd say R. It's not for the kids, but it ain't too descriptive either.
Sarah – you literally dragged this fic out of me (when I had much better things to do, thank you very much), so here, smut ohoy. I will not guarantee it's good smut though, but it's smut. Happy? Thank you. Now excuse me while I get back to passing Uni. :P
******
The Water Police headquarters. Police officers had come and gone, but the station remained the same, more or less.
There is a saying that goes “If these walls could talk..”. Well, what if they could?
Of course, most of what the station observed was police work. Arrests, confessions, endless searches for clues, line-ups, discussions over suspects.. The everyday operation of the station was pretty straightforward, sometimes dull, sometimes exciting.
But at night.. At night it was many different stories that were told.
Consider, for instance, Rachel Goldstein and Frank Holloway. The fearsome detective duo of the Water Police worked brilliantly together at day, bantering and flirting, but under the watchful eyes of the rest of the crew there, they never did anything.
But one quiet night when the two were left alone in the building to work on a particular touch case, it was only the walls that would ever know their secret.
“We have absolutely nothing,” Frank complained, throwing the case file he was looking at onto the desk.
"We have forensic evidence,” Rachel replied, not looking up from her report.
“Which is bloody useless.”
“It's all we got.”
"And that's the problem!” he pointed out, and she finally looked up. His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, the desk light illuminating her face and hair. It never ceased to amaze him just how beautiful his partner was.
“Do I have something on my nose?”
“Huh?”
“You're staring,” she replied, pushing away a strand of hair.
“Just thinking about the case,” he covered, “You're looking at the assets, right?”
“Yeah.. Problem is, this guy wasn't rich enough for someone to wanna knock him dead for the money. He's deep in debt.”
Getting up from his chair, Frank stepped behind her to look over her shoulder. He made an effort to look at the numbers, but it was hard when he noticed that her sweater had slipped slightly and he could see a bra strap. Immediately his mind became filled with images of his partner wearing only a bra.
“I mean, this guy was nearly bankrupt.”
“Yep,” he said, pretending he was paying attention and leaning forward even more.
“Maybe we're looking at it wrong..” she said absentmindedly, leaning back and encountering something soft. Frank's chest.
He let out a quick breath, and she pulled back within seconds. This really wasn't what she needed right now, she'd just started to get over her shooting of Knocker, she didn't need to be reminded that her partner was damn attractive and..
“We better call it a night,” she said hurriedly.
“Rach..” he muttered, stepping closer but stopping before he actually touched her.
She turned to face him, and saw the clouded desire in his eyes. He was standing just a feet away, so close she almost felt trapped.
“Frank, we *really* should call it a night,” she urged. He just looked at her, then finally lowered his gaze.
“Yeah,” he agreed and reached out to grab her jacket for her at the same time that she reached for it too.
Their hands brushed, and neither broke the contact. Frank couldn't stop himself, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. She shivered slightly as she felt his tongue against her skin, but even though her mind was protesting somewhat, she couldn't ask him to stop. He slowly moved upwards, pushing up the sleeve to continue his trail of kisses up her arm.
When he stepped closer, her body seemed to brush against his on its own. His other hand had gone around her waist, but she hadn't made any moves yet.
“Rach,” he breathed, lifting his head and trying to meet her gaze. She was looking down rather than at him, and he wondered just what she was thinking. Not that he was thinking too clearly himself.
“Rachel?”
“Frank,” she replied, lifting her hand to rest on his chest. She could feel his heart pound, as she slowly began undoing the buttons on his shirt.
“Rach?”
“I know what my name is, Frank.” She finally lifted her head to look him in the eyes and his breath quickened.
Her lips were curved in a half smile and he stared as she let one of her own fingers run the length of them. Tilting her head, she lifted her fingers to his lips, tracing the length of them too.
They stared at each other as she lowered her hand. She knew he would kiss her, and she could feel her lips tingling as she waited.
"God, Rach..” he muttered, and pushing her against the wall he finally kissed her. It wasn't a gentle kiss, he was too impatient already. She didn't seem to complain, her tongue meeting his as he captured her mouth and began the long-awaited task of kissing her till he went weak in the knees.
She had already managed to open his shirt, and now she went to work on his tie. She broke off the kiss long enough to lift it over his head, moaning as his hands had found a target of their own.
He could feel the outlines of her breasts through the sweater, and his hands seemed to automatically wander to them. Still, he reckoned it would be even better without the sweater and he begun lifting it up.
She lifted her hands over her head as he pulled the sweater off and shivered slightly as her skin began exposed to the cold air in the room. The sweater got discarded to the floor, and moments later Frank's shirt joined it.
“Just as I imagined,” he whispered in her ear.
“What?”
“You in a bra.”
“You have imagined me in my underwear?” she asked, trying to sound mad.
“Oh yeah..” he lifted a finger to her bra strap. “Without it too.”
She swallowed, suddenly realising just what she was doing. This was Frank, damnit, her partner and they were in the bloody office for crying out loud.
“Frank, wait!” she said in panic as he slip the straps down. He frowned, looking up at her.
“What's wrong?”
“We can't do this.”
He let go off her immediately, sitting down on the desk. “I knew you'd say that,” he muttered, downcast.
“You know we shouldn't be doing this..”
“No, I don't know that, Rach. I just know I've wanted to do this for so long I can't think anymore. I'm.. I'm sorry.”
She stood still for the longest time, the hairs on her arm standing on end, but not just because it was cold. Her body was complaining, wanting more touches and fast. Finally, she walked over to him and tilted his head up to look at him.
“Tonight never happened. You went home, had a beer, went to sleep and will come to work with nothing in particular to talk to your mates about.”
He stared confused at her, as she brushed a gentle kiss against his lips. “It never happened.”
He finally seemed to catch on, lifting her up to straddle him on the desk. The papers and files fell down but he didn't care, his hands wandering to unhook her bra.
Sliding it off her and throwing it away he didn't even notice that he actually threw it into the hallway. He didn't care about the pencil stabbing painfully into his back either, but he did care about Rachel's hands that had found the waistband of his trousers and were beginning to tug them off.
He pulled her head down to kiss her again, wanting more than anything to make it last forever. But his body was impatient, already screaming for release and he could barely control himself.
“Frank..” Rachel groaned, freeing herself from the last bits of clothing. He knew what she wanted, yet he pulled back slightly, leaving his hands to wander over her body, taking in every detail.
Damned if he'd ever forget this. He settled his gaze on her face as he finally gave into his body's demand. She closed her eyes as their bodies joined, and the look of bliss on her face was nearly enough to send him over the top.
He was doing this to her. He was making her dig her fingernails into his back so hard he'd have scratches for months. He was making her moan and kick another pile of paper off the desk. It was his name she cried out, and he whispered her name softly in return as his body finally hit the point of pure bliss and delight.
But of course, it had never happened. Rachel never mentioned it again, and Frank wisely never brought it up. Helen wondered a bit when she found a bra in the hallway the next morning, but no one knew for sure.
Except of course, the walls. They watched as Frank and Rachel stepped carefully around each other, dating others, never talking about what had occurred. Until a new detective joined.
Michael Reilly. Young, good-looking and the essence of good mood he nevertheless added tension to the office. Frank and Rachel were so used to just each other a third seemed.. Weird.
And then, Frank inherited the Footloose. His mate had died, leaving the boat to Frank and feeling a bit of a mid life crisis, Frank decided to sail to Venezuela.
It was his last night in Sydney as Rachel walked into her dark office and sighed. Mick had come to get her help on a case, interrupting her and Frank's farewell moment. She wasn't sure how she felt. A part of her wanted to cry, wanted to run back to his house and kiss him breathless and tell him she would come, she would sail with him.
Of course she couldn't.
“Night Rachel,” Mick offered, and she gave him a nod as he headed out. She should probably get going too, but she just couldn't make herself get up from the chair.
“Hey,” came Frank's soft voice and she looked up in astonishment.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be here,” he replied, “Just waited for young Reilly to bugger off.”
He leaned against the doorframe, taking in the office where he'd spent so much time the last few years.
“Think you and Mick will have as much fun here as you and I have had?”
She shook her head, fighting away the tears. “Don't..”
“I have to, Rach. I can't explain it, but..” he shook his head. “You can still come with me.”
“No..”
“Yeah, I know.”
They stared at each other in silence for a while. Finally Rachel felt her eyes brim over, and she hid her head in her hands, curing Frank and her tears at the same time.
She didn't even hear him walk over, just suddenly felt his hands on hers. She looked up at him, feeling a small desperation arise. He couldn't leave her. He couldn't..
He leaned forward and kissed her, and nearly forgotten memories of a certain night broke through the barriers of her mind and assaulted her. He kissed more gently than she remembered, but the taste of him was the same.
She flung her arms around his neck, bringing more force into the kiss and not noticing the footsteps in the hallway.
Mick glanced into the office and found that the pair already there was not aware of his presence at all. He'd left his cell phone on the desk, and he silently debated whether to try to make a grab for it. But then he threw one more look at the couple, he decided not to break the mood and carefully tiptoed away.
They didn't hear him leave, as Frank brought his arms around Rachel and pressed her as close as he could.
“I don't want to leave you” he whispered.
“Then don't..”
He didn't reply, just kissed her more forcefully. She nearly fell out of the chair, clinging onto his body like there was no tomorrow.
“Don't leave,” she muttered, closing her eyes and feeling like he was slipping away from her already.
“I'll be back,” he promised, but even to him the words sounded hollow. He glanced over at the desk, remembering. She seemed to remember too, because she stood up and took his hand. Her neck had nearly killed her the morning after they'd done it on the desk and she was determined tonight would be better, slower.
“Your place,” she whispered. “Your bed. *Now*.”
He couldn't have argued even is he wanted to, because in her Goldstein command tone he had as much chance of resisting as a snowball had of making it in hell. So he followed her out, throwing one last look at the office. He had the weirdest feeling he would never see it again.
And he never did.
Rachel came to work the next day to find Mick already there, and she nearly broke down and cried then and there. The office seemed to call out for Frank, like it was missing him too. She wondered if she would was going mad..
And of course, the new partner was bloody Jack Christey, who she had an affair with. She cursed Frank even more, even if it wasn't exactly his fault Jack Christey replaced him.
Jack was.. Well, Jack was Jack. As annoying, persistent and attractive as ever. And slowly, she missed Frank less or got better at coping with it, and Jack sneaked his way back into her life.
She didn't even realise it until one night they were at the office after surviving being hunted by a madman, and she just had to kiss Jack. She really couldn't help herself. He looked stunned, especially when she whispered to him to join her later.
He barely managed to stumble through the paperwork and ran out of the station as fast as he could.
And in the coming days, it was the worst kept secret in the station. Everyone suspected though, especially Mick. The pair was suddenly very willing to work overtime one night, and told him he could just go home. He shook his head as he headed downstairs. Like they were fooling anyone..
As soon as Mick had exited, Jack lifted his gaze to Rachel.
“Was that discreet enough?”
“Jack, you wouldn't know discreet if it hit you over the head,” she replied, unable to withhold a grin.
"Well, he wandered off didn't he?”
“After you told him to get lost.”
“I did not tell him to get lost!” he protested. She leaned over her desk and looked him firmly in the eyes.
“You told him to get lost.”
“No, I didn't.”
Their staring match went on, even as they stepped away from the desks and so close their bodies were touching.
“I reckon you're jealous,” she teased.
“Of Mick? No way.”
She leaned forward as if to kiss him, but lingered a few millimetres away staring him deep in the eyes.
“Young, good-looking...”
“I'm good-looking!” he countered. “Haven't got any complaints..”
Her lips were so close he could feel her breathing, and he just couldn't control himself anymore. Bringing a hand to her neck, he closed the distance between their lips.
She closed her eyes as she let him deepen the kiss, dimly wondering if they could be seen from outside. He'd stayed over last night, and yet her body was still itching for his touch.
Her brought his hands to rest at her waist, lifting her shirt enough to expose some flesh. His fingers drew small circles, working their way slowly upwards. She groaned when he got as far as her breasts.
“I can do things Mick can't,” he whispered. “Got no reason to be jealooooooous..” The last word was strained as Rachel let her own hands wander and find what she was looking for.
“Really Jack?”
“Oh yeah..” he found it hard to speak as her hands continued their trek.
“Let's go home,” she suggested, noticing how a hungry desire had come over him. She didn't seem to think too clearly herself, nearly tripping over her own feet as they hurried out. They were in such a hurry the light was left on, and would be still on when they came in the next morning.
The last morning. Because, at the end of that day, Rachel Goldstein drew her last breath.
She died in the arms of Jack, her last words not what he wanted to hear and they would haunt him for the longest time. The office walls too, would haunt him, containing memories of Rachel.
There was no escape. And the new detective to the team didn't help it. At least she didn't look anything like Rachel, which would have been too much. But her presence was a constant reminder of what he'd lost.
Mick adjusted faster, but then again he hadn't been involved with Rachel. He and Alex seemed to get along, which annoyed Jack just a bit. He wasn't quite sure why it annoyed him, but when the two were almost flirting he wanted to.. Push Mick of a ledge, or something.
After a while, the two seemed to reach some kind of agreement not push it further and Jack could breathe more easily. And he was beginning to notice that Alex was attracting in her own way.
He sometimes considered what it would be like to kiss her. But then memories of what it was like to kiss Rachel assaulted him, and he could barely stand up. He would sit in the empty office at nights sometimes, just remembering her face, her laughter and how soft her skin was to touch.
And he'd wonder how long he was supposed to get by without her.
As it turned out, it wasn't too long. Going after a dirty cop to protect Mick, Jack was killed in the line of duty.
And the walls mourned his death too. While the police officers cried, the walls absorbed the tears, remembering all those who had come and gone.
The walls would remember even when the people forgot. A year gone by, and the police station would go about as normal – nearly normal. And some things didn't change.
As the lights went out, and everyone else went home, Alex and Mick lingered behind. The silence lingered a while too, only broken by the heavy breathing. Slowly, Mick got up and walked over to Alex, his face shining in the dim greyness.
She met his glance calmly, even if a small shiver was crawling up her spine. He did that to her now still, even months after they'd 'hooked up'.
He smiled as he grabbed her hand and pulled up from the chair and up to face him. Their bodies touched, fabric against fabric, skin against skin.
“We solved the case,” he said quietly, breathing on her neck. She took his hand, clasping it in hers.
“We did..”
He watched fascinated as she licked her lips, her eyes getting that familiar look of desire. He'd evoked it in her last night and so many nights before, and he'd begun to wonder if he'd would ever consider a night good without her there ever again.
As if reading his mind, she leaned forward and kissed him, teasing his upper lip, then the lower lip, gentle touches that she knew would drive him nuts.
He replied in kind, letting a hand stroking her neck, then move down to begin unbuttoning her shirt.
“We're in the office, we agreed not to mix work with..” she protested, but he took the chance to deepen the kiss and she forgot to protest for a while. By the time she managed to regain some wit, he'd already begun pulling her shirt off.
“Michael..”
“What?” he replied softly, nibbling at her left earlobe. She debated the pro and cons of protesting for a while, but the longer he kept on touching her, the better the concept of not protesting looked.
Aw, bugger it.
She captured his mouth in a feverish kiss, and pulled him back with her as she sat down on the desk. He nearly lost his footing trying not to break the contact.
She smiled into his mouth, but the smile turned serious as his hands stroked the bare skin of her exposed stomach. His hands felt warm, as they moved slowly upwards. His slow exploration of her skin was quite opposite to the frantic pace of the kiss.
He managed to get her shirt completely off, enjoying the feeling off her breasts pressed against his chest. She sighed softly as his hands found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it.
"You're overdressed,” Alex whispered, breaking off the kiss to remove his tie.
“I'll fix that,” he grinned, quickly tossing his shirt away. She took the chance to begin a trail of kisses from his neck and downward, admiring his broad shoulders with her hands.
She chuckled when he let out an impatient groan. Lifting her head she met his kiss, as he lifted her up and swung her around. She crushed herself against him, and he lost his footing.
They tumbled to the floor, not really caring that it hurt. They were to engrossed, impatiently pulling at the last strands of clothing. Pausing just for a heartbeat to admire her body, Mick got a look of seriousness on his face.
“I will never let you go,” he whispered, kissing her so softly it warmed her all the way to her heart. And then the warmth was spreading to every part of her body, filling her up until she thought she could take no more.
And yet her body begged for more.
“Mick..” she urged quietly, closing her eyes as he kissed her neck. She wasn't quite sure what was his body and what was hers anymore, and for the briefest second, it was so perfect it hurt.
And then there was pleasure and she just floated..
They lay silent a while afterwards. The moment seemed to embrace silence, as they made a small bundle of their clothes and rested against the wall. Looking around, it occurred to Mick just how much his life had changed since he first had set foot in this office.
“Do you ever think off Jack these days?” he suddenly asked.
“Yeah.. I can't believe it's been a year,” Alex said quietly.
“Me neither,” Mick replied, stroking her hand slowly.
“I still sometimes feel like.. Like he's here you know? He and Rachel.”
“I sometimes think I feel her presence,” she confessed.
“Me too.. And Frank Holloway, he was Rachel's partner.. I saw them kissing once, the evening before he left.”
“They were involved?” she asked surprised. “I thought Jack and Rachel..?”
“Yeah.. I think maybe she loved them both.”
She rested her head against his chest, looking around at the familiar surroundings and once again getting the feeling that they weren't alone.
“If these walls could talk..” Alex muttered.“What'd ya reckon they'd say?”
“I dunno..” He glanced around, feeling her hair tickle his chin as she shifted slightly. Somehow, he imagined what they would say perhaps would be what everyone knew, but were too blind to see.
Frank Holloway had loved Rachel Goldstein.
Rachel Goldstein had loved Frank Holloway, but also Jack Christey.
And himself..
Mick Reilly loved Alex St Clare.
And someday soon, he would tell her that too. In the meantime, the walls would share his secret, just as it had shared everyone else's.
