Fantasy Blues

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, but the storyline is mine I tell ya! Mine! ;-)

Summary: When Rachel has a dream about Frank, she is determined not to let it affect the way she looks at him …

Rated: T – for very minor adult themes and swearing.

- - - - -

"Your place is so messy Francis. Ever thought about cleaning it up?"

"Oh yeah. I know I should but really, I can't be bothered."

Rachel Goldstein scratched her head; not because it was itchy, but because sometimes, she found it hard to understand the opposite sex.

Sitting down next to her, Frank Holloway had his arms outstretched in a bid to relax his rather tense muscles.

"You know what happened today?" Frank tried to change the subject completely.

"You were thinking I reckon I should clean my house sometime in the next ten years?"

Frank gave Rachel a small glance out the corner of his eye, "No. I never think about cleaning my house."

"Figures."

"Anyway …" Frank said, plucking two beers out of the carton that was sitting on the coffee table.

"Yes sorry. Go on. What happened today?" Rachel said as he handed her a can of beer.

"I kissed Helen," Frank said a little sheepishly.

"You kissed Helen?" Rachel exclaimed, "Wow. Well you know, I always thought that the two of you would make a nice couple … that is, if Helen wasn't gay."

"Ha ha," Frank mocked.

"So you kissed Helen …" Rachel said, wanting Frank to tell her more.

Frank shrugged slightly, "I kissed Helen. And then I thought, I wonder what it would be like to kiss Rachel."

"Oh shit no," She replied shaking her head firmly, not wanting Frank to tell her anymore.

"Oh shit yes," came Frank's reply after a moment of silence.

"Don't go there Frank," Rachel said wearily.

"Why not?" Frank asked, looking intently into Rachel's eyes.

"Just don't Frank," Rachel shook her head again, "Don't."

"Rachel. Why not?"

God he is persistent, Rachel thought.

"I just don't wanna talk about it … you know, us …" She replied reluctantly, "Especially when there is no us."

"Well what if I want to talk about it?" Frank answered, leaning in towards Rachel with sheer knowingness of what he wanted.

She closed her eyes. Instead of answering him, Rachel pushed Frank's chest with the palms of her hands.

Before she had the chance to pull her hands away, Frank grabbed hold of her wrists.

"Frank?"

"Rachel?"

His lips met hers before she had the chance to protest or reply. Rachel tried pulling away from Frank, but he just pulled her back towards him, still holding her wrists.

Almost against her own will, Rachel soon found herself kissing Frank back, rather than just him kissing her.

In unison, Frank and Rachel got up off the couch and slowly started walking towards Frank's bedroom.

Still kissing, they managed to get there without fall over too many times.

Frank's hand ran down Rachel's back and underneath her shirt …

- - - - -

Rachel gasped and bolted upright in bed. Realising that she was sweating, Rachel wiped her forehead before trying to see in the dark. She reached for her bedside table and turned on the lamp.

She quickly looked at the other side of her bed. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Rachel saw that there was no one sleeping in the bed next to her.

She shook her head before lying back down again, "Bloody Frank."

- - - - -

"Well, well, well," Frank said as Rachel entered the office, "Look who's late for once!"

Rachel didn't want to look at Frank, particularly after the dream she had last night.

Frank waited patiently for a response, but there was none forthcoming, "Geez Rachel. What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing," Rachel replied quietly, looking up at Frank for a brief second.

"Okay," Frank said, although he didn't actually believe her.

"So what's on for today?" Rachel tried to think of something else.

"Oh not much," Frank replied unenthusiastically, "Helen's just checking out the owner of a cruiser that was stolen last night, and then we can go have a little chat with him … or her."

"Great."

Frank looked at Rachel and frowned. He'd known her for four years and knew when there was something wrong. Today, he definitely knew that something was playing on her mind.

"Guys," Helen Blakemore strolled casually into the detective's office, "The cruiser's owner is a Mr Jay Wilmore."

"Did he report it stolen?" Rachel asked.

"No. His wife did."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and looked at Frank, who was looking down at his desk.

"Here's his address," Helen handed Rachel a piece of paper and walked out of the office.

"Thanks."

"Let's go then," Frank said, standing up and walking over to Rachel's desk.

"Yep," Rachel stood up, still unable to meet Frank's eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You seem a little edgy with me," Frank observed, "Have I said or done anything wrong in the past 24 hours?"

"No. Nothing."

Frank was still totally unconvinced.

- - - - -

Once the day was over, Frank and Rachel went to the Cutter Bar to wind down and have a few beers.

"So are you gonna tell me what's been bothering you today?" Frank asked gingerly.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Nothing's bothering me." Rachel replied defensively.

"Come on Rachel. I know you," Frank said, "I know when something's up."

She sighed, "Well, I wouldn't tell you, even if something was up."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Frank grinned, "I'll just get you a few beers!"

"But you're the talkative one when you're pissed. I'm the reticent one!"

"That's true Rachel," Frank agreed, "But I'd get it out of ya eventually, don't you worry about that! I'll push you up against a wall, and strangle you until you told me!"

Rachel tried not to laugh, but failed miserably, "You reckon you would?"

"Yep!"

"I reckon you're probably right, you know," Rachel replied.

"Of course! I'm always right!" Frank said smugly.

"Yeah, like every time we make a bloody money bet, you always win and I have to pay you!" Rachel complained.

Frank grinned cheekily, "I'd be rich if I made a bet every time I thought something was right, and you thought the opposite to me."

"I know you would," Rachel replied, "And I'd be bloody bankrupt!"

Frank laughed, "Well, what can I say?"

Rachel shrugged.

"And women are supposed to be the ones with the intuition."

"Ah, but I do have intuition," Rachel replied, "I just chose not to use it most of the time."

"That's what they all say Rachel," Frank winked at her.

"Ah huh," Rachel couldn't be bother arguing with him anymore. She was rather inclined to drinking her beer.

- - - - -

Many beers later, Frank and Rachel tottered their way out of the Cutter Bar. Although none of them were drunk, they were beginning to feel the effects of having seven beers each.

"Now you'll tell me about what's been bothering you all day," Frank said eagerly.

"Get stuffed!" Rachel scorned at him.

"Rachel. There's a wall," Frank pointed out, "Now it may have been a few beers ago, but I can recall saying that I would push you against a wall and strangle you unless you told me. So, go on!"

"Frank."

He stopped walking, "Right. That's it!" he pushed her, so that she was walking backwards, until she hit the wall.

"Frank! Piss off!" Rachel laughed.

"Nope. Sorry, no can do until you tell me!"

Rachel tried to retaliate by pushing Frank in the chest, but found that it reminded her too much of her dream last night.

Akin to her dream however, as she was about to pull her hands away from Frank, he grabbed her wrists.

"Tell me!" Frank laughed, as he stepped closer to Rachel.

"Alright! Alright!" Rachel surrendered, "I'll tell you … just let go of me!" she laughed.

"You will huh?" Frank questioned.

Rachel nodded.

"Okay," he let go of her wrists.

"Thank you," Rachel said gratefully, as they started walking again.

"So …?"

"I can't believe I'm about to tell you this," she shook her head, "Last night … I had a dream … and you were in it –"

"Oh don't tell me," Frank interrupted, "I shot you."

"No!" Rachel laughed.

"Didn't you have a dream once where I shot you?"

"Yeah," she replied, "I tell ya, I wish that I did have that dream again. This one was completely different."

"Yeah? So what was it about?" Frank asked.

Rachel laughed nervously. She glanced at Frank out of the corner of her eye; her lips formed a small, yet cheeky smile.

Frank seemed to somehow read the look on her face, "What? Did you have a sex dream about me or something?"

Rachel looked at Frank guiltily.

"Are you serious Rachel?" Frank said, wide-eyed.

She gave him the same face.

"A sex dream about me and …?"

Rachel looked at Frank with her eyebrows raised, "Who do you think?"

Frank grinned, "Me and you?"

"Yes Frank. You and I."

He laughed, "So that's why you were testy with me today?"

"I guess so."

"Mm. Makes sense!" Frank replied, "Although I don't understand why you'd rather have a dream about me shooting you …"

"I'd rather have that dream, because at least then I'd still feel comfortable with you the next day!" Rachel replied.

"You're saying that you didn't feel comfortable with me today?"

"No!"

"Geez, what on earth happened in the dream?" Frank laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know Francis …"

- - - - -

The End

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