She knew something was going on; had known it all night, if
only she'd been paying attention. It wasn't really anything you could
put your finger on, she thought. It was just a whisper in the air; a
shimmering heat mirage that would vanish if you tried to reach it.
But nonetheless, it was real, and Kay Howard wondered what, if
anything, she was supposed to do about it.
It was long past closing at the Waterfront, which meant that
the only patrons left were those who had been personally invited to
stay by the owners. Munch had cut out on his responsibilities long
ago, pleading a date with a woman "who wouldn't be caught dead in this
place." Mike Kellerman was slumped at a table, a cigarette dangling
dangerously from his hand, as Brodie watched him owlishly; there were
a couple more detectives arguing in the back; and that was it, Kay
concluded after a drunkenly thorough scan of the room.
Except for Lewis and Bayliss.
She sat at the bar and watched the two of them from very far
away. They hadn't been the best of friends-well, they'd never been
that, but they hadn't even been speaking for a long time, she thought.
They still weren't speaking. They weren't even looking at each
other, but something was different.
Bayliss was at one end of the bar, idly wiping the same spot
over and over with a rag as he listened intently to the argument in
the back. Lewis shuttled back and forth from the kitchen, restocking
the bar for the next day. Kay followed him with her eyes drowsily,
wondering if it would be worth it to have one more beer before she
headed home. She dabbed at the sweat on the back of her neck with a
napkin; the air conditioning in here _would_ go out on the hottest
night of the year, she thought.
"Hey, Tim, wake up," she said aloud. "Can't you do something
about the air?"
"I already checked it," he said. "I can't fix it. We'll have
to get a repairman in tomorrow."
Lewis, passing by with a tray of clean glasses, said, "You
think it's hot out here? You oughta come back in the kitchen."
"And I suppose that's my fault, too," Bayliss said angrily.
"Yeah, Timmy, it's your fault. Everything's your fault. You
just go on carrying that load of guilt around while I carry out these
glasses."
"Hey, guys, lighten up," Kay said. "It's not so bad in here.
At least not with a cold beer in front of me," she hinted broadly. As
Lewis filled a mug from the tap, Bayliss sidled guiltily into the
kitchen.
After a few minutes, Lewis said, "Wonder what our boy found to
do in there? He can't be working...that would be too easy." He
walked towards the kitchen, fanning himself ostentatiously, and
calling out to Bayliss to get to work.
Kay sat alone at the bar for a little while, thinking idle,
hot-weather thoughts. The heat actually felt good to her, as long as
she wasn't moving. Finally, she drained her beer and went in search
of Meldrick, or Tim, or both, to say goodnight. She pushed the
swinging kitchen door open and was greeted by voices raised in anger.
"It's not just the air conditioner. It's everything," Lewis
was shouting at Bayliss. "You tell Munch he can take off. You forget
we're out of limes. You stand there and wipe the same damn square foot
of the bar until you can see your face in it..."
Kay peeked cautiously into the depths of the kitchen, just in
time to see Bayliss step toward Lewis and shove him, hard, against the
counter.
"You want me to hit you, Timmy? I'll hit you. I'll hit you so
hard, I'll kill your whole family," Lewis hissed. He shoved Bayliss
back. Kay was paralyzed in surprise, just for a second--and a second
was all it took for things to get out of control.
The two men were suddenly grappling, each trying to get enough
leverage to throw a punch. But they were fairly evenly matched, and
neither could get an advantage. Finally, Lewis tripped Bayliss. They
fell to the floor, still locked together, no holds barred.
Say something, Kay urged herself. But there was something
more than a fight going on here. Blame it on the heat, or on whatever
you liked; this had been going on long before Bayliss touched Lewis,
and she had to see how it would end. Even though she was going to have
to face them in the squadroom the next day, she couldn't bring herself
to break them up...not yet. It felt like an exhibition being put on
for her benefit; one that she was beginning to enjoy.
Her lips parted and her body swayed, mirroring the writhing of
the pair in front of her. Bayliss was pinned under Lewis, their legs
tangled together, still trying to punch the other man in the face
while evading his grasping hands.
Suddenly, instead of continuing to jab at his opponent, he
reached up and locked one hand behind Meldrick's head, forcing it down
to his.
Oh, my...is he doing what I think he's doing? Her breath
came a little more harshly.
Bayliss raised his head fast and came up hard against the
other's mouth in a bruising kiss. The unyielding hand at the back of
his head had Lewis trapped; he fought it at first, then relaxed all at
once, so that his body covered Bayliss' almost completely.
This was more than Kay had bargained for. Tim's free hand began
to roam over Meldrick's body, now firmly joined to his at almost every
point, and Lewis responded by grinding himself, almost painfully,
against the body under his, pressing himself closer until their forms
almost seemed to merge.
A tiny sound escaped her lips as she watched them, entwined on
the floor, believing themselves completely unobserved. She pressed
her hands to her mouth, fighting down the surge of lust that
threatened to overwhelm her.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The two men
broke apart and sprang to their feet, glaring at each other.
"What the hell, Bayliss?"
"You tell _me_ what the hell. That was _your_ tongue in my
mouth, as I recall."
"This ain't over," Lewis said, dusting himself off.
"Damn right."
Kay backed away hastily as Lewis strode towards her. By the
time he came through the door, with still another tray of glasses, she
was again seated at the bar, staring dreamily down into her empty mug.
"Everything okay in there, Meldrick?"
"Yeah, Kay, everything's fine," he said, after a moment's
hesitation.
"The heat's not getting to you?"
Bayliss joined them at the bar, carrying a few bottles,
carefully not looking at Lewis. "It's a lot...cooler...out here than
it was in there," he said, his voice cracking a little.