~ A Soft Place To Fall ~

by

Jaxine Daniels

"No, no police." She responded without hesitation. "Just get me to the car and I’ll figure out something."

"C’mon, Julie. That doesn’t make sense. You don’t have your ID, or money or anything."

Julie pulled herself up straight. "I’m fully aware of that."

Frustration rose up in Nic’s throat. "Well, that’s about all you’re aware of."

"Thanks for reminding me. I don’t need this from you, Nic-from-Boston. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself." Julie stomped to the window, stood by the desk and fingered the phone cord. She stared at the phone as if trying to think of someone to call.

"Yeah, right. You’re so independent that you came and slept on the floor beside me last night. Be sensible."

A small squeak came from her before she turned to face him. Julie glared at Nic for an instant. Dang, he shouldn’t have said that. But then, almost as quickly as it materialized, the glare melted into indifference.

"Whatever you say."

Was that a concession? That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? "You go shower first. I’ll order us some breakfast."

"Fine." Julie pushed past Nic, walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

As the shower ran, Nic ordered food. The phone rang just after he hung it up. Who would be calling him here? Maybe Cruz was checking to make sure he’d followed through. Nic grabbed the phone on the second ring, looking toward the bathroom to make sure Julie was still in the shower.

"Hello."

"Hey, Boyo."

"Uncle Mickey, what are you doing calling me?" Nic knew the answer even before he asked the question. The last time Nick and Joey’d gone home, they’d dragged Cruz along. He’d been an instant hit with the D’Onofrio family. "Cruz called you?"

"He’s convinced that you’re in danger, Boyo."

"Sorry he bothered you. Did he fill you in?"

"He did, and I thought you might want me to run down those plates for you."

"What?"

"Well," he snorted, "you surely aren’t going to do what he suggested, are you?"

"Yeah, I was. Why?"

"Because it’s crap, Nicky."

"What?"

"What does your gut tell you is going on with this girl, Nic? You’ve always had good instincts, even if you didn’t become a cop."

Mickey had never gotten over the fact that Nic had preferred battling fires to fighting bad guys. Then, when he and Joey had made the jump to pararescue, Mickey had again pled his case for them to come back to Boston and join the force. Nic had never doubted that he’d made the right decision. Well, not until Joey died. He forced himself back to the present.

"I think she’s telling the truth. I think she really does have amnesia, if that’s what you’re asking."

"Partly. But what I’m really asking is this: what does your gut tell you to do?"

Nic was silent.

"Don’t think, Boyo, just answer."

"She’s in trouble and needs my help."

"And...?"

"And I don’t want that responsibility."

"Look, Nic. You and I both know that ‘long-term’ isn’t in your vocabulary. A few hours, maybe twenty-four on the side of the mountain, okay. But you’re the master of momentary."

Nic winced.

"Grow up, Nic. Help this poor girl out or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Now give me the damned license plate number and a description and I’ll see what I can find out."

Nic gave him the information and slammed down the receiver. Damn it all. Mickey had acted like Nic had already agreed to this crazy scheme of his, like he had already known what Nic would decide.

The shower shut off. Nic paced the length of the small living room, turning his options over in his mind. A knock on the door, announcing the arrival of their breakfast made the decision for him. He decided to decide later. Citizen Nic was fully in control again--for the moment.

~ * ~

By the time Julie came out of the bathroom, wearing the only thing she had, her pajamas, Nic had the table filled with food. "Get some food. I’m going to shower." He hadn’t intended to sound so testy but, what the hell, he was testy.

Julie sat down at the table, defeat showing in every move she made. She picked up a muffin and took an obedient bite.

Nic shrugged and headed for the bathroom.

The warm water felt good pounding on his chest. He was too tall to let it pound on his head; that was the problem with hotel showers. At least there was decent pressure. As he shampooed his hair, the delayed conversation in his head started again.

Citizen Nic gave him all the common-sense answers. Take Julie to the people who solved these kinds of things for a living. But the nagging little voice, the one heard beneath the rustle of the cape, was accusatory. You’re just avoiding a commitment here. But what you’re really afraid of is getting your heart involved. You are at a cross-roads, my friend. It’s time, Nic, to let down your defenses and take on something that will take more than a few hours of your precious time.

The argument went on. Nic just stood and let the water beat on his back. Good thing he wasn’t at home or the water would have been ice cold by now. Nic put his hands against the wall and lowered his head into the stream, shutting his eyes. At last he raised his head and stepped back, shutting off the water.

"All right, Batman, here’s the deal." Nic muttered as he pulled on jeans and a sweat shirt. "One week. She has one week. I’m committed to one week, you bastard. Happy?" He grabbed socks and walked toward the living room.

~ * ~

"Damn it all!"

The room was empty. Julie was gone, plain and simple...