14. passers-by

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A quiet weekend

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A quiet weekend. Sure. Gillian had carefully planned her lecture for Russell. Because he kept fluttering around Aldana, but never dared to take the next natural step, when it was so obvious they were head over heels about each other. So that Friday night, while he cooked dinner in her kitchen, she sat at the breakfast bar with her glass of wine and waited for him to meet her eyes.

She didn't need to say much, though. Russell knew he had it coming and proceeded to detail all the reasons why he acted like he did. "I'm still bouncing all over the country, Reg," he said to wrap up his answer. "And it's just not fair to her. So right now, I'm waiting for Quantico to grant me at least another semester here before doing anything about Al."

"Oh, shut up," she grunted. "Don't bullshit me, Russ. You're afraid to commit, that's what's going on here. You know damn well Al has no problem at all with you not being around all the time. And all you're doing right now is building up for nothing. You wanna get the expectations high enough for her to be disappointed at anything but the perfect prince charming. Expecting she would turn you down, so you can trick yourself into believing you guys were wrong about each other. So your conscience can be at ease with you running for the Chicken of the Year Award."

"Oh, well, look who's talking," he replied bitterly. "Don't play profiler on me, Reg. And don't come preaching about committing, when you haven't been in a relationship since the divorce. And that was... what? Ten, twelve years ago? You're an inveterate loner, Reg, and that's just because you're afraid of letting anybody in. 'Cause you're scared to death of getting any kind of hurt again."

"Oh, 'cause you like getting hurt? And I'm not a loner. Not being in a relationship doesn't mean I'm a loner."

"Like being with all those young guys means anything."

"They're exactly the kind of company I need from a man."

"You mean the exercise." Russell huffed, and didn't let her reply. "No, really, Reg, what is it with you and younger men? What can they possibly give you, other than the wild sex you're always joking about?"

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Like I can trust you."

"I'm hurt."

"Don't turn this into a sarcasm match. Why do you do it, Reg?"

So all of a sudden it wasn't about lecturing Russell anymore, but opening up to him. Talking about something she'd taken many years to figure out, and had never shared with anybody. But it was Russell, and he deserved an honest answer.

She sighed, looking away from him as she tried to find the best words to say it. "It's because they're passers-by, Russ."

He frowned. "Passers-by?"

"Yeah, passers-by. All of them on their way to some nice girl, to get married and have children and a white-fence life."

Russell frowned deeper. "Then what's there for you, Reg?"

She met those dark, almond eyes women went crazy over, where she could read his deeper thoughts and emotions, understand them, and relate so many times.

"You should know, Russ: passers-by don't get to question if it's always my job and my son first."

A thick silence filled the kitchen, as Russell finally nodded, acknowledging it. Gillian rubbed his arm, moved by the dull sadness clouding his amazing eyes.

Russell threw his arm around her neck and kissed her hair. She held him tight, resting her head on his chest and saying with a warm, intimate voice, "But you have feelings for Al, Russ, and you can be sure she feels something for you as well. So it's just not fair to any of you, the way you keep your distance. 'Cause you don't know when our crazy job and our hot heads are gonna end up depriving you of what you love and want the most."

And then, right when he was about to answer, her phone buzzed.

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