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Face in the window in the night
Caught for a second by the light
Ashes of memory still aglow
Only for you
Portraits and pictures you once saw
Visions in blue
- Ultravox
Allison awoke with a start, shaken to the core. Beside her, Joe slept on and she resisted the urge to shake him awake because, for once, this dream was definitely the future. The man in her dream was staring through a diner window and she could see his reflection. He had the most amazing blue eyes, filled with an innocence clear down to his soul, yet those eyes held so much pain and loss right now, the world seeming so blue around him. In her dream she was seeing through his eyes while he was watching a crime scene, staring across at the milling police in confusion; she recognized herself at that scene but in a place where she had never been before. No. Not staring at her or at the police but at one person in particular. He was staring at Lee Scanlon with such longing and joy, a name falling from his lips as he rushed from the diner.
"Jack."
He never saw the car, whose driver was too caught up in watching what was happening with the crime scene to notice her/the man stepping off the pavement, braking only as her/his body hit the windscreen, shattering the glass. She did not need to see the rest of the dream to know she/he had died instantly.
Shaken, Allison climbed out of bed and made her way though the darkened house, flicking on a light in the kitchen and sinking down at the table, head in her hands. Questions were racing through her mind. Who was the man and why did he mistake Lee for this Jack? Why was he so overjoyed to see Lee to the point where he had forgotten the rest of the world existed?
An hour passed with her mind turning in circles yet giving up no answers, and she sighed when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.
"You have another dream?" Joe slipped into the seat beside her, leaving his hand on her shoulder. "Want to talk about it?"
She lay her hand on top of Joe's and sighed again. "Not really. It hasn't happened yet and..." Who was she trying to kid? She looked up into her husband's compassionate eyes and gripped his hand tighter. "Someone died. They ran into the street and got hit by a car."
"A kid?"
She shook her head, recalling another dream where it had been a young girl who had then gone on to haunt the couple who never even stopped, who had left her to die alone in the street. "No. It was a man. Someone who thought he knew Detective Scanlon and was trying to reach him. He didn't see the car."
"So...How do you know it hasn't already happened?"
"Because I was there, Joe. I...he could see me there with Detective Scanlon." Joe nodded, doing his best to try to understand but even she was having trouble deciphering this one because....because... "I was seeing through his eyes and yet... and yet I felt as if someone else was sending me the vision."
Silence descended for a moment. "It's late...early. Come back to bed. Maybe it'll all make more sense in the morning."
Allison bowed her head and yawned, tired and sad, but Joe was right. If she was meant to be there then it wasn't going to happen in the next few hours. Perhaps, if she closed her eyes, then the dream would return and give her another clue.
***
After dropping the girls off at school, Allison headed over to the precinct and was glad when she spotted Detective Scanlon at his desk, thumbing through a pile of reports. He looked up and smiled at her, beckoning her over.
"Been dreaming again?" He had that boyish smirk, having slowly come to believe in her ability to see events and people both in the past and future yet still harboring a little skepticism. She gave him a sad smile, studying his face almost too carefully as the dream came back to her.
"Do you know someone called Jack...who looked like you?"
His smile dropped instantly and he looked away. She gave him a moment, realizing this could be important, waiting for him to look back but, instead, he stood up and gathered up his jacket. "Not here," he stated softly. She followed him out and sat quietly in the passenger seat of his car as he drove them a few blocks to a small diner tucked away in a back street. He took a booth near the back and she waited until they were both cradling hot coffee before calling him back from whatever memories had overtaken him.
"Lee?"
His eyelashes flickered and he took a deep breath. "My family came from Canada originally. I have...had a cousin called Jack. Jack Larkin. He was something in the finance industry in Canada, but he was killed a couple of years back after getting involved with some bad types. Murdered. There was talk of him having killed someone, and of stealing some money, though they cleared his name eventually but, you can understand that I wouldn't want anyone in the department having that kind of information." Lee laughed derisively. "He was my mom's sister's only son, and we could have been twins to look at us."
"I had a dream about someone who knew Jack. He was sitting in a diner opposite a crime scene we were investigating. When he saw you, he thought you were Jack and, and he was so pleased to see you. So happy... that he ran out to get to you and... He never saw the car." She hugged herself. "When I woke up, I was so incredibly sad. He was so... such an innocent person. So sweet, and I was so sad he was gone."
Lee shook his head. "I don't recall any car acc..."
"No. It's not happened yet but it feels close... and I feel this incredible urge to protect whoever this man is, to save him."
Lee shrugged. "I really don't know how to help. I saw Jack maybe once or twice in the five years before he died, at family events. Never met any of his friends or associates except for this one girlfriend, Ann, but she was killed in a car bomb only months before he... His death was related to that." He took a sip of his coffee. "Jack's sister kept in contact with mom. She sent her wedding photos, including the last ones we have of Jack, taken by someone near the back. There weren't many people there so maybe this guy is in one of them." They finished their coffee in silence. "Come on, I'll run you back to the precinct to pick up your car."
****
She dreamed again that night. She dreamed of devastating loss, of standing in the snow at a grave with the name Ann Krywarik engraved on the headstone, numb from more than just the cold. She felt the rage of grief when Jack died, felt herself held back by strong arms as he/she raged at a slightly older, dark-haired woman, the terrible guilt and feelings of betrayal almost suffocating him/her, almost derailing him/her mentally. Then she was back in the diner, seated by the window, seeing his/her reflection even more clearly in the dawn light, feeling the blue fade with intense joy as he/she stared across at Lee Scanlon. Allison snapped awake as the car struck her, a scream caught in her throat. She slipped from the bed. It was still early but she had a strong feeling that Scanlon would not be sleeping so she picked up the phone in the kitchen.
"Detective Scanlon? It's Allison Dubois." She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and wondered if she had been wrong. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"Nah. Did you dream again?"
"Yes...Was she Ann Krywarik?"
A moment of silence. "Yeah. And I have those photos. I've been looking at them but... Can we meet later?"
They made arrangements and several hours later, Allison pulled into a parking space at the diner they had gone to the previous day. She found him seated at the same booth near the back, the photos spread out across the tabletop. As she slipped into the seat opposite, her eyes caught on a particular face in the small wedding party. He looked different with a beard but the eyes were the same. Beautiful, innocent blue eyes; guiless and affectionate. She knew it was him and felt sad as she noticed the gaudily dressed woman hanging onto his arm, her sparkling green outfit jarring against the more somber taste of the rest of the crowd. The woman was wrong in too many ways; she didn't belong. Images crossed her mind, seeing her seated beside him at the back of the small ceremony, feeling a hand drop on his shoulder with affection as a man passed, a man who could have been Lee Scanlon's twin, the floor beneath his feet turning to grass, bordered with flowers like a beautiful garden. She watched the man take up position behind the bride - Jack - and raised a camera, catching him in profile. Jack never said goodbye.
"Ms. Dubois?"
"Oh, I saw..." She pointed to the bearded man. "Him. It's him."
"Don't think much of his 'partner'."
"She isn't. She didn't belong. He knew it soon after." She gave a soft laugh. "So she's gone now."
"Any names?"
Allison shook her head. "Only that he belonged with these people. Not quite family but..."
"Gardner Ross." He looked up at her. "That's the name of the bank where Jack worked in Toronto before he fled Canada, and was killed. I'll send this to the RCMP and see if they can put a name to the face."
"Okay."
He continued to stare at the photo, seemingly mesmerized by the shy grin on the man's face, tracing the features with his index finger, and that was when it struck her, an image of Jack - or was it Lee? - making love to another man, hands smoothing over warm flesh, kissing deep and hard. Jack had loved women, had loved Ann Krywarik with all his heart so Allison knew, just knew, that the tender man in her vision was Lee, that Lee loved men. It was a revelation that momentarily stunned her.
"You okay? I'd say you looked like you'd just seen a ghost but..."
"No, no ghosts. A skeleton in the closet perhaps." She waved away his confusion, drawing her thoughts back under control even though the image of Lee with someone male had been so loving and so erotic that she knew she had flushed with second-hand desire.
***
That night she dreamed again, seeing a little more of the crime scene, a hotel with a golden crest, expensive looking with its bellhops and uniformed doorman. She saw her/his reflection again, saw the slant of his mouth and watched his innocent blue eyes staring wide with shock at the scene outside the hotel, catching the flickers of police car lights in the dawn light. Had he seen anything of the crime itself? She wasn't certain because all thought narrowed to pinpoint focus on the silhouette walking through the crowd, a moment almost frozen in time until Lee/Jack stepped into the brighter lights. She/he was running, eyes only for one man, afraid that he would lose him if he looked away for even a second.
She gasped again as the car struck her/him.
"I couldn't give him what he needed."
Allison jumped again, hand to her breast as the shadowy figure stared at her from the corner of the room. She knew the silhouette, knew the voice and yet she also knew this was not Lee Scanlon in her bedroom in the middle of the night, talking to her while her husband slept soundly beside her.
"Jack?"
He smiled. "He needs Lee...and Lee needs him."
"Jack, who is he?"
"Don't let him die today."
"Wait!"
The phone rang, drawing her attention and by the time she looked back the ghost of Jack was gone. Allison reached for it. "Allison Dubois. Yes. I can be there in twenty minutes." By the time she had placed the handset back into the cradle, Joe was sitting up. "That was Detective Scanlon. There was an incident and he needs me to come out." She gave him a soft smile. "Would you mind getting the girls to school this morning?"
He sighed and nodded, not really liking it but understanding. "I'll tell them mommy was called into work early."
She dressed quickly, closing the door behind her quietly and driving through near-empty streets as she headed into the financial district. Someone had mugged a hotel guest attending a convention, right outside the expensive hotel lobby. It wasn't until she stepped out of her car and saw the hotel's logo bathed in blue light, and the milling crowd of police and paramedics that she recognized the scene. She could see Lee picking his way through the crowd towards her and she turned to the parade of stores opposite, frantically seeking out the diner. He was there, pushing up from the table by the window so slowly as he stared directly at Lee.
Automatically, she sought out the approaching car as the man rushed out of the diner, a stunned but ecstatic smile lighting his face, 'Jack' falling from his lips. She was too far away to stop him, and too far away to stop the car, the noise of the too many people stopping her voice from carrying as she cried out at him to stop. The blur of a figure caught her eye and she watched, stunned, as a police officer made a flying tackle, crashing into the man and knocking him out of the path of the car amid the squeal of brakes. When she reached them, the police officer had disentangled his body from the 'almost' car victim, and Lee was on his knees beside the man.
***
Dropping down to the ground, Lee reached out to lay a hand on the man's chest. Bewildered eyes latched onto his face, sweetness and innocence radiating from the man. "Jack!"
Lee was lost for words as he stared down into the deep blue eyes of the man from the photo. He'd sent off the request yesterday and had gained a response only a few hours earlier, learning that this man was Grant Jansky, a derivatives trader at Gardner Ross Cunningham, GRC, who was attending a trade convention while his immediate boss recovered from a gunshot wound.
"No, Mr. Jansky. I'm Detective Lee Scanlon of the Phoenix Police Department."
The police officer who had saved Jansky's life struggled to a seated position close by. "Sir, I'm sorry for..." Lee reached out and gripped the man's arm, interrupting the officer's apology.
"You did good. Go get that graze checked out." He accepted the nod and watched as the man clambered to his feet and headed off.
As soon as the call came in concerning the mugging outside one of Phoenix's most prestigious hotels, Lee had felt something in his gut telling him that this would be the time and place so he assigned an officer to go to the diner immediately, with orders to stop anyone leaving until he'd given the all clear. He had hoped that would be enough to prevent Allison Dubois' dream from coming true but he should have known it would not be that easy. At least the officer had been close enough to prevent Jansky's death.
Allison dropped down on the other side of Jansky, her hand reaching for the man's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Um..." Jansky glanced between him and Allison, mostly focusing on him, obviously confused by more than the near miss, but Lee could understand his bewilderment. The paramedic moved in before any of them could say anything more, though Lee made a point of finding out where they would be taking Jansky for a check up, determined to follow as soon as he could.
When he reached the hospital a couple of hours later, Jansky was sporting a few band aids where he had grazed his chin and forehead, and an ace bandage wrapped around one wrist, most likely sprained in the fall. Without the beard, he looked incredibly young, his eyes almost luminous like a child's but Lee knew this man had a sharp mind, for figures at least.
"Jac..." Jansky caught himself, biting down on his lower lip.
"Yeah, we looked identical as kids too. You wanna ride back to your hotel?"
Jansky nodded and, throughout the ride, Lee felt the man's eyes upon him, measuring him up. "You're not Jack. Your jaw is shorter by 6 millimeters, and your eyes wider apart, and they're a different shade of blue. Darker."
Lee smiled, glad he didn't have to bring out the pictures to prove he was not Jack hiding out in some witness protection program, even though he wished that was the case, wished that Jack was alive out there somewhere, living the life of Riley.
"You...You have the same smile though."
"Were you and he...?"
"Friends. We lived together for a while, with Donald, until Jack got his own place again and Donald moved to England." He fell silent for a moment before speaking in a soft tone. "I miss him. I miss Ann too, and Donald." He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a small pill container, popping one into his mouth. "I'm on medication now so I'm feeling a lot better. Haloperadol." Smiling shyly, he held up the container, letting Lee read the label.
Lee nodded. He had spoken to the managing director of GRC, Adam Cunningham, less than an hour ago and had registered the initial hesitation, wondering if Cunningham had recognized the familiar voice, thinking he was Jack too. Cunningham had been only too eager to warn Lee that Jansky was on anti-psychotic medication following a major mental breakdown, and seemed even more concerned that Jansky was on his own. That worried Lee too because the mugging victim was a woman who fitted the description of the person who had accompanied Jansky on this trip to Phoenix. She was okay, just a little shaken, but the Mayor had insisted on a full investigation because of the financial implications. After all, some of the best traders in the world were in his city for this convention, and these were the same people who made him and his financial backers extremely rich.
"I tried calling Ziggy but she stayed on after the party at the Raven club last night. She must sleep heavy."
"But you didn't stay."
It was a question couched as a statement, for the 'detective' in him was unable to sit back and not make inquiries, especially as he had a desire to know more about Grant Jansky. Jansky had known Jack, probably far better than Lee had truly known his cousin due to the physical distance between them. Certainly, he had to know more about Jack's state of mind around the time he was killed. Kathy had refused to say anything, too caught up in her own grief at losing her brother. Lee wanted to know if he and Jack were similar in more than physical looks. He wanted to know if Jack had felt the same stirring when he was with other men, if he had preferred the flat disc of a man's nipple to the heaving bosom of a woman, if he had preferred hard planes to soft curves, and the slight roughness of bristle against his inner thigh to a woman's silky cheek when he was blown. He wanted to know if Jack had longed for strong arms crushing him against a male body rather than a woman's more fragile one.
Jansky gave a soft snort, looking very uncomfortable. "Not my scene. I'm...I'm not really into night clubs." He waved a hand near his ear. "Too noisy."
Lee smiled because he felt the same about night clubs; too noisy, too smoky, too many people...too much everything. He preferred something quieter, more intimate. "You wanna go get some lunch? I know this great Chinese restaurant a few blocks away."
Jansky looked a little bewildered, perhaps even a little stunned. "Ziggy...?"
"You can call and leave a message for her at the hotel front desk." He glanced at Jansky, feeling guilty at not mentioning that she was the mugging victim but almost willing him to say yes. "I'd like to ask you about Jack."
Nodding slowly, Jansky agreed, so Lee took the next left. He half listened as Jansky left his message but kept most of his concentration on driving, pulling into a vacant parking space close to the restaurant. Another two hours passed as they talked about Jack and then about themselves, with Lee becoming quietly captivated with the intelligent, gentle and oh-so-shy man seated opposite and yet, for all his intelligence, he was inexperienced at hiding the truth, outing his bisexuality in a few well phrased questions from Lee.
At some point during the meal, they lost the formality of rank and surname, becoming Lee and Grant, and smiling at the Civil War connection, especially as Lee could see himself surrendering to Grant in a far more intimate fashion. He was mesmerized by the slightly crooked mouth with its wide grin, by the sparkle in Grant's eyes and the almost delicate way his fingers moved, rarely remaining still. He could imagine them dancing over his body, tapping out a melody on his ribs as he hummed and licked around the head of Lee's hard cock, opening that luscious mouth wide and taking him in. It was so easy to ask to see Grant later, to offer to pick him up and take him back for a home-cooked meal. It was even more amazing to see that shy smile of pleasure aimed solely at him.
He dropped Grant back at the hotel and spent the rest of the day chasing down leads provided by Allison, more than pleased when he had the mugger under arrest before nightfall. Grant was shuffling from one foot to the other by the time Lee arrived back at the hotel, and he wasn't alone. Ziggy McLeod was with him and he saw her double-take even though she'd already met him once before when he questioned her about the mugging. What he could also see was her fierce protectiveness towards Grant.
"Detective Scanlon."
"Miss McLeod. I hope you've recovered from this morning."
"I'm still a little shaken but...I'm fine. Before you and Grant go anywhere, I'd like a word in private."
Grant looked a little dismayed as he turned to her. "We both know he's not Jack...and, I don't want him to be Jack. I like Lee."
Her face softened and she reached up to cradle Grant's face in her hands. "As long as you're sure."
Grant treated her to a special smile, one of brotherly affection that was returned in full, and Lee did not need to look back to know Ziggy was watching them all the way to Lee's car, silently promising retribution if he should hurt Grant in any shape or form, but Lee had no intention of doing so. Quite the opposite especially when it felt so good to know Grant didn't want him to be Jack, because he didn't want to be Jack, not even for Grant.
Dinner was a low key affair because Lee had never gotten around to learning more than a few basic recipes outside of the normal bachelor range. The rest of the time he either ordered in or went to a nearby diner that was reasonably priced. Grant didn't seem to mind the less than exciting meal, seemingly happy with whatever was put down in front of him and, knowing about the medication, Lee didn't bother with beer or wine.
He'd known by the time they'd finished the Chinese meal earlier that he liked Grant but by the time they had settled in front of the TV to watch a film together, Lee was totally smitten. He dropped his arm behind Grant's shoulders and smiled when Grant snuggled in closer, the film forgotten as he tipped up Grant's chin and placed a gentle kiss upon soft lips. Grant reached back, deepening the kiss and proving that he was no innocent in this, knowing exactly what he was doing as he nipped and tasted, licked and soothed into the kiss. His hands were steady as they swept under Lee's t-shirt, toying with a nipple before smoothing over skin and muscle. Shirts were loosened swiftly, then discarded as the film played on without its audience.
Definitely no innocent, Lee thought as he dragged back from the kiss and stared into desire-darkened eyes.
"Bed?"
Grant nodded with a shyness that almost seemed out of place on the already debauched face and it took only a moment to tug Grant to his feet and lead him into the bedroom, partially closing the door behind them to mute out the film even further. With an eagerness that had Lee laughing softly, Grant stripped off the rest of his clothes, revealing a body that was no Greek statue but was so much more instead; a body that was real and warm and alive, that shivered at his touch, and opened to him in pleasure. He felt so protective as he kissed Grant into insensibility, breathing in soft moans as Lee took him deep but oh-so gently, and hushing him afterwards, brushing away the single tear that had tracked down Grant's face but seeing no pain in his fever-bright eyes, only intense pleasure.
Afterwards, he flopped onto his back and pulled Grant's sated, sticky body into his arms, feeling the throb of his rapid heart beat slowing, relaxing into sleep, holding this vulnerable man so close and hoping this would be just the first of many times he could do this. With limbs heavy and body lethargic from release, Lee considered getting a washcloth to clean them both up but he fell asleep before the thought could become action.
***
Allison awoke with a small gasp of pleasure, still feeling the warmth of strong arms enfolding him/her, and the light kisses placed with such love and caring on his/her temple as he/she settled into those arms. She saw the smiling lips, recognized the familiar shape and knew both men were happy. Instinctively, she turned to the shadow and saw Jack standing there, smiling at her. He said nothing, simply inclining his head in thanks before fading away, and she knew he would rest peacefully now that he had seen Grant into safe arms.
Turning over again, she wrapped her arms around Joe and kissed the back of his neck before relaxing back into a dreamless sleep.
THE END