Promises to Keep
Once again, this author is playing with characters that don't belong to her and since this series is based strongly and sometimes loosely on Homicide: Life on the Street, I must give credit where it's due. NONE of the Homicide characters belong to me, ~sigh~, but rather to their own PTB. I'm only borrowing them and will make no money off of them. At the moment, Jessie Raines does belong to me, so please ask before you borrow. In the future all OC's will be using the same disclaimer. Now with all the correct things said, I would like to introduce you to my first fanfic based upon Homicide: Life on the Street.
The mist parts and he sees her. She is standing close to the edge of a cliff, to close. He can hear the waves, stirred up by the approaching storm, crashing into the rocks below. The sky is an angry gray that is quickly being covered by black storm clouds. The wind is picking up and beginning to keen through the caves that dot the wall of the cliff. She turns and looks at him. She is so beautiful with her dark hair streaming down, she takes his breath away, but she is so sad. She seems to be pleading with him, and yet she hasn't spoken a word. He tries to take a step closer to her and finds he can't move. She looks down into the sea and takes a step closer to the edge. He tries to speak to her but finds he can't talk. He shakes his head and points to her. He can see her pain. She seems so lost, but he doesn't know why. She looks at him again. He beckons her back. She shakes her head. She is crying, he can see the tears on her face. The wind is getting stronger. He can see her cloak blowing in the wind. Cloak? He looks down and sees that he, too, has a cloak on, the majority of which has been thrown back from his arms. White ruffles from his cuff are showing from the sleeve of his dinner jacket as his raised arm continues to beckon her from the cliff edge. Dinner jacket? Suddenly he can feel the sea spray on his face and hands. The storm surge is getting stronger. "I must move," he thinks, and then he is. He feels himself taking a step towards her.
Her face changes as he moves toward her, she looks scared. She shakes her head no again, and steps back, closer to the edge. He stops and calls to her. He can hear his own voice, but she pays no attention. The wind is even stronger, louder; it must have carried his words away. He knows he must stop her. A bright light flashes in the distance. An echoing boom answers it. There is a sudden wetness on his face. He looks down and sees the rain hitting the ground in large drops. The storm is coming closer. Doesn't she know this is dangerous? The cliff edge could give away in the rain. He beckons her towards him again, but she ignores him and turns back to the edge of cliff with the angry sea so far below.
The wind is molding her cloak against her back and whipping her black hair into her face. He's afraid it will obscure her vision. Why won't she come away from the edge? He takes another step towards her just as lightening flashes directly above them. The sound is deafening and he jumps in surprise. She doesn't move, but she does turn to look at him. His chest contracts painfully at the sight of her. She is so angry and so beautiful in her anger, with flashing green eyes, flushed cheeks, and her slightly crooked, patrician nose flaring with her anger. Her beauty takes his breath away again, it always has. She yells something at him and points to the rocks down below her. He can't hear her in the damn wind, but her message is clear. He stops. She is still yelling at him and all he can hear are snatches of her voice on the wind.
He puts his arm out to her again hoping she will come to him. "Ok," he tells her, "please back away now." She hears none of this. But she can see it on my face. She must see it.
It is her face though, that is readable. It's all there for him to see; sorrow, rage, fear and love. She stops yelling and looks down at the ground in front of her. Time stops for a moment and he hears her speak. "I'm sorry," she says and she turns, stepping forward. He throws himself at her, screaming her name. He is too late; she's already gone. He desperately crawls to the edge and looks down. He sees her hit the rocks below and watches the churning waves come up to grab at her body. And then she is gone. He is alone. As he lies sobbing her name the heavens above him finally open, drenching the already unstable ground in its onslaught. The earth beneath him crumbles and he feels himself falling. But he feels no fear; he welcomes it with open arms. Lightening crashes above him one last time as his body joins hers in the water.
"Tim, wake up." Tim?
He struggled up through the darkness and opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows. He couldn't make out who was speaking to him, only that it was a woman. Katherine? She was a black shadow against the harsh light. He groaned and pulled the pillow out from under his head and over his eyes.
"Come on, Detective Bayliss. It's a beautiful day and the scourge of Baltimore are out and about." Tim felt the bed beside him give slightly as his companion sat beside him. He felt the covers lift and he jerked slightly when she ran teasing fingers along his sides.
"Baltimore's a big girl, she doesn't need me today," he mumbled.
"Come on, Superman," she crooned softly, and pulled the covers down, running her hands over his chest. He grabbed at her hands to stop any further ticklish exploration.
"I'm getting up." He pulled the pillow off his face and squinted at the light. It wasn't as harsh this time and his vision was beginning to clear, adding a face to the laughing voice. He lay there enjoying the shimmering view as reddish gold hair, framing a heart shaped face came into focus. Flashing violet eyes, impossibly high cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose soon followed. Katherine's nose.
"Jessie?" he asked just before his eyes fully adjusted to the light of the room. He sat up looking at her closely.
"Of course, who'd did you expect, Katherine maybe?" Jessie asked laughing.
"Who?" he asked feeling his blood run cold and the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
"I was hoping you could tell me." Jessie teased. "You called her name out in your sleep."
"I did?" He shook his head at the light premonitional tingle that was coursing through his body. It had to have been a dream. He didn't even know any Katherine's. Yet, it seemed so real. The woman's eyes were still haunting him.
"Wow," Jessie said, watching him closely. "You don't know, do you?" She knew Tim was a good actor, one of the best when he was in the box sweating down a potential perp, but this was different. He looked really spooked. She watched in concern when he rubbed his arms hard, as if warding off a chill.
"Hey babe, it was a just a dream," she said softly. She really hoped it was and not an unsolved case rearing it's ugly head in his subconscious. The jingle of the phone ringing broke into her thoughts.
Tim was oblivious to the ringing phone next to him and that Jessie had to lean over him to answer it. He was trying to sort the thoughts out in his head and didn't notice when she had hung up the phone.
"That was Lewis, he needs you to stop at the Waterfront before you go in. He said the kegs aren't drawing." Jessie was off the bed and had the shower running before she realized Tim wasn't listening. She put her head around the corner to look back into the bedroom. When she saw he was still sitting on the bed, she went back in to the room.
"Hey, Bayliss? Anyone one home?" Jessie was getting worried now. Tim may have his moods, but anything that had to do with the bar usually got his attention.
"Huh?" Bayliss asked, startled. He had forgotten Jessie was in the room with him. He was beginning to wonder what the hell was wrong with himself.
"You're needed at the Waterfront," Jessie said slowly, looking at him closely.
"Well, Detective Raines, what are you waiting for, let's get with it." Bayliss quickly got out of the bed and smacked Jessie on the rear before she could say anything more. He walked past her, and stopped to look out the large windows of their bedroom. "What a beautiful day," he said and hopped in to the running shower before her.
Jessie knew he was putting on a front for her. And for now she was willing to let sleeping dogs lie. Sooner or later she would get to the bottom of this new mystery of life with Tim Bayliss.
To be continued....
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06/12/1999 (updated), original date 05/07/1999