The Professionals Circuit Archive - Building Bridges	     Building
Bridges

 

by Zoe 

 
 I watched him trying not to watch me. Difficult but not insurmountable,
considering I was driving. Why he would want to do so was something I
couldn’t comprehend.

 Surreptitiously I glanced in the mirror, ostensibly to see the cars
behind. In reality to check whether I had a smudge on my nose or cheek.
Nope, clean as a whistle.

 Now what the hell was he doing? Twisting and turning like that. Do
himself a mischief if he carries on.

 "Got a tail?" he asked.

 Ah. Now I see. "Nope. Just checking," I replied casually. He'd never know
the real reason. "Nothing behind us but countryside."

 "Okay." 

 "Fine."

 A comfortable silence followed. Well, as much silence as you can have in
a noisy two litre car going a good sixty miles per hour. I continued to
sneak glances at him. He appeared to be deep in thought, pondering over
some kind of problem as a frown developed on his expressive face. You
know, sometimes he can be so difficult to read; other times, his heart is
written on his face. This was obviously one of the difficult times. I
didn’t have a clue what was going on in that brain of his. No doubt he
would tell me in his own good time.

 The expression on his face intensified, and I could just see his tongue
peeking out at the side of his mouth. Very child-like and immensely
appealing. Cute.

 Hang on...cute?

 "Pull over, up that lane there," he interjected, finger pointing towards
said lane.

 "Why?" 

 I got a grimace for that, thought he must be feeling ill or something. So
I turned off into a narrow, muddy road enclosed by autumnal trees, with
bronzy-reddy leaves still clinging on for dear life. Some of them hadn’t
made it, if the road was anything to go by. I'd always loved autumn; the
colours; the smells; the weather, even. Wonderful season. I grinned to
myself, and half expected him to issue a sarky riposte. He didn’t.

 "Where d'you want me to stop?" I eventually asked, breaking the silence.

 He glanced behind and around him. "Here'll do."

 I pulled over and killed the engine before turning to face him.

 "I have to...I have something I want to say." For some reason, he
looked...well, sheepish or...shy I would have said, if I hadn’t known him
any better.

 "What?" I was curious now.

 He looked up at me properly. For the first time in a fair while, I
suddenly realised. In fact he hadn’t really looked at me since that
almost-disaster with the atomic bomb at that bowling alley. I knew it had
shaken him because it certainly had me. Couldn’t sleep for days
afterwards. 

 Don’t know whether he'd slept or not because...Christ, we hadn’t seen
each other outside work since that very evening. Almost two weeks ago, and
we hadn’t been out boozing, or on the pull. We'd not even been round to
one another's flat to watch footy on the telly. Almost unheard of, for us
that is. The lads back at HQ wouldn’t believe it.

 As he continued to look at me, one random thought hit me--he has
beautiful blue eyes.

 Shaken, I remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

 "I almost lost you."

 Whatever I expected to hear, that wasn’t it. He continued, "Ten days ago.
I almost *lost* you." There was a sort of desperateness about his words.

 "You didn’t. I'm here. Safe and sound, just like you. Here," I held out
an arm, "touch me."

 His face darkened. "Don’t make jokes. Wasn’t funny. A few more seconds--"

 "--a few more seconds and I'd have lost you," I interrupted solemnly.

 As we continued to gaze at each other, understanding pervaded my soul.
Now I appreciated what he was saying. I repeated it in a hushed voice, "I
almost lost you."

 He reached out and squeezed my arm gently. "Glad I didn’t," he smiled.

 I smiled back, his relief and happiness almost tangible. "So am I. I
really am." I stretched my own arm out and squeezed his thigh--the nearest
part of his body available to me.

 A glint of something indefinable sparked for just a second in the
midnight blue eyes, then just as quickly disappeared. I couldn’t have said
for certainty it had ever been there. 

 "Let's go back home; my flat. Get a takeaway, watch some telly. Have a
lazy evening, hmm?"

 We both knew what was on offer, and his expression changed; softened, and
he nodded.

 We understood now. Finally.

 I started the engine.

 -- THE END --

 *September 2006*

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