Fic: In Memoriam, Rush, Rated PG-15
Title: In Memoriam
Author: JaqofSpades
Fandom: Rush (Australia)
Characters/Pairing: Stella/Michael, Stella/Cleo, Stella/Charlie
Disclaimer: This fanfiction is created for fun, not profit, and no violation of copyright is intended.
Rating: PG-15 (language and allusions to sex)
Word count: 422
Summary: I'm a frigging dyke, flirting with a guy who doesn't even turn me on. I'm more than fucking distracted, she wants to yell.
A/N: Rush is an Australian police drama set in the world of the Tactical Response unit. I loved it, so of course they cancelled it. Apologies for the Australianisms that litter this, but the ultra-real dialogue was one of the things I loved about the show!
*
He was flirting with her. Flirting! It was gross, really, considering he was her superior and they were on a job, and he knew she didn't swing that way.
What Stella couldn't figure out was why she was flirting back.
Yes, she was bi, and yes, she'd had sex with men. Even fallen in love with a man once, but that was Michael and he was her best friend, and it hadn't started out that way, not with him. She tries not to think about how it ended, blood and desperation and that cold, cold room where she flicked the switch to end his life, but the crone in her head is screaming again, and she just wants to shut the bitch up, so she flicks her eyes across to his pretty mouth, and laughs at his jokes, and tries to forget that guys are for sex and girls are for love. And sex, she thinks, remembering Cleo's long red hair tangled in her fingers and the way her skin tasted after six hours on the dance floor.
“Stel?”
She wants to growl at him, piss him off with her favourite four letter word, but instead, she goes all girlie and turns it back on him, almost purring. “Charlie?”
“You right to drive? You're looking pretty … distracted, there.”
I'm a frigging dyke, flirting with a guy who doesn't even turn me on. I'm more than fucking distracted, she wants to yell.
I think I'm losing my mind.
She knows she's strung out - the little blue pills are helping her sleep and the little pink ones are keeping her awake, and she washes them both down with booze. Any other team would have kicked her off by now, but Lawson understands that they're family, and Stella needs to get through this, and well, her primary coping mechanism has always been chemical. But maybe that's changing. Maybe that's what this is all about, she ponders, jaw dropping with realisation.
Maybe she just needs a good root. Sex and death and all that bullshit. And Charlie would be easy to walk away from.
Charlie wasn't part of the team.
She wouldn't bleed for him.
Wouldn't die for him.
Wouldn't see Michael's blood splattering her shirt, spilling over her boots, and swallowing the floor as she cried for him. Cried, cried, cried for him.
She can't cry - she's driving, for fuck's sake - so she smiles at Charlie and hopes he's better than he looks. Not like she'll be thinking of him anyway.
fin