Oh, The Places You'll Go

Rescue Me Titles: Series 1


Guts

A Reasoned Argument

It's not lack of guts. It's Charlie, it's Lisa, it's your father, it's the world of sport, it's the political climate in America today. It's the look in Dana's eyes, it's the whispers and nudges and silences when you walk in the room. It's the way he falls in love so hard and so fast, the exuberant joy with which he always expects things to last and his naked pain when they don't. It's the difference between "hey buddy" and "my love." It's having the power to destroy at your fingertips.

Lack of guts?

That's the last thing it is.


Gay:

Wishful Thinking

"They're not, though."

"I know. I'm just saying they could be."

"They do spend an awful lot of time together."

"They've always got each others' backs."

"There's all that looking and touching and following each other into rooms."

"Mmmm ... touching."

"Hey! Snap out of it."

"Sorry. It's just ... an arresting image."

"They'd have you arrested if they knew what you were thinking."

"It's a perfectly healthy sexual fantasy. I'm not ashamed."

"As long as you admit it's just fantasy."

"Can't I negotiate down to wishful thinking?"

"For the last time, Danny, Dana and Natalie are not gay."

"Casey, you have no imagination."


Kansas:

Over the Rainbow

A teasing, tingling, tantalising touch: soft, subtle pliant and warm. The butterfly effect - one minute action causing a chain of reactions. Ordered chaos creating an electrical storm from the barest, briefest connection of mouth on mouth. A hurricane of disordered emotions, half-thoughts, dead memories reborn, want, want, need. Another touch. An embryonic flickering of wetness heralding a rainstorm, washing the world clean of black and white, tropical birds singing in the deluge as it bleeds colour everywhere. And as the kiss persists, requests, demands, a voice in his head.

"Oh my, I do believe we're not in Kansas any more."


DNA:

What's Mine is Yours

"He's such a good little guy," Danny had said. And he was. But Casey worried about Charlie. Whether Charlie would be happy, would find someone to share his life with, would fulfil his awesome potential. Whether Casey and Lisa had screwed Charlie up and set him on the road to ruin.

Mostly he worried about DNA - what he had given to Charlie and couldn't take back. There were genes for everything it seemed - height, intelligence, criminality. And something else. Something Casey couldn't be. If Charlie inherited that, Casey fervently wished him the gene for courage his father so tragically lacked.


Orphans:

Without You

Growing up, Dan imagined himself and Sam as orphans in the storm - tossed around from house to house.

"Grandma's this weekend. Mom's feeling unwell..."

"Auntie Lou can't wait to see you..."

"Passover at your Uncle's this year..."

Seemed to Dan that if Mom and Dad didn't want them around they might as well be orphans.

"But we'll always have each other," he told Sam. And while they were together Dan never once felt alone - Sam was family and family was Sam.

When Sam died Dan realised they had only been play-acting. This was alone: orphaned in an endlessly raging storm.


Revenge:

Best Served Cold

Pants? No, she'd done that too often. It wasn't punishment any more - they were on TV for God's sake - they loved the attention. No, it would have to be something else, something truly spectacular or deeply subtle.

Jeremy had been seeing a porn star? A porn star! With Jeremy. Could it have been clearer this was information that needed to be shared? Not that she loved Jeremy. It was just a little ex residue. Really.

Aha! She had it. Revenge. A card on Casey's desk. A flower and note in Danny's backpack. Now to sit back and watch the fireworks.


Butterfly:

Aurelian

A warm, lazy day in Central Park. Casey lies poker-straight in the grass, head pillowed on one forearm. Dan sits, bare legs crossed, hands loose and easy. Casey is tense, the world never quits. He talks endlessly on about everything, about nothing. He wants a response.

"Danny? Dan?"

Dan's head shifts, tracking. His arms rise and as he delicately brings his hands together Casey sees the butterfly frozen in the air. Dan holds his position then his fingers unfurl, the butterfly zigzags away. He turns to Casey expecting a reaction. Casey shakes his head.

"Sometimes I envy you," he says.


Inches:

Spacetime

He is bound, this creature of the Universe, in time and in space. Though there are no bars, that does not mean he is free. He walks the world subject to the laws of physics, the whims of man. He watches Casey fidget with his button-hole, straighten his bowtie.

"How do I look?" Casey asks, nervous.

Beautiful, thinks Dan and says, "Great."

"Is this bowtie straight?"

Dan considers and steps closer, removing Casey's fingers, deftly twisting and taming the knot. Casey blushes at his proximity. Dan knows what is coming. But not yet. Not yet. Imprisoned in time. Inches away.


Alarm:

Lying In

When Gordon stayed the alarm would go off at seven sharp. Dana would get up and make him coffee and toast, sending him off to work with a kiss before collapsing back into bed for much-needed sleep.

The first morning after they broke up Dana woke up to the shrill alarm wondering how her bed had gotten so big. Her heart squeezed as she remembered why she was alone. Would she always be alone? She reached out to hit the alarm off and in the blissful silence that followed realised that she was on her own time again, and smiled.


Immortal:

Live Forever

When Isaac had his stroke Dan decided he wanted to be immortal. The world was mostly unexplored territory for Dan; in ten lifetimes he could not see what he wanted to see. Immortality was the only viable option. He found a man who knew a demon who sold him an expensive potion. He had his heart's desire.

It took decades to understand his error. He was happy, virile, strong. But when Casey died, old and surrounded by fat grandchildren, Dan's heart broke into millions of pieces. Searching forever he would never find them all. Immortal and inconsolable he faded away.


Mom:

Becoming

Even after twenty hours of labour Lisa was still beautiful. She cradled their baby, cooing softly as he suckled. Her expression was serene, a world away from the screaming, red-faced dervish struggling to give life to her son. Her eyes gazing at the baby held a soft glow that Casey could not remember seeing before.

"She's whole," Casey thought. "She's already Charlie's Mom." He envied this immediate transformation. When he had held Charlie all he felt was scared, responsibility overwhelming him.

"I'll do my best," he silently swore to his son. "Always. Because I am your Dad."

He reached out.


Leaving:

All Good Things

There was a lot of it about, thought Kim. Leaving. Sports Night wasn't the same. First Isaac retired. Kim's eyes still filled when she thought of the words whispered in her ear as she said goodbye. Who knew he knew her so well? Then Elliot got a job at ESPN. Kim wasn't going to admit it to anyone but she missed the tubby jerk. The new girl was so ... drippy. And Jeremy followed Natalie to Sacramento. Then Casey remarried. And Dan left. Physically he was still here. But mentally?

And all things shall pass; Kim thought ruefully, picking up the paper.


Sanctuary:

On What Love Is

"I don't accept the break up."

"Natalie."

"I don't."

"Why not?"

"Because you are my sanctuary, my port in a storm, my anchor, my rock, my home and I can't do it without you, Jeremy Goodwin. It's a crazy world out there, believe me."

"Natalie, I can't. My parents ... They were my rock ... And they shattered. It's..."

"So let me be your sanctuary, Jeremy. Let me be the safe place where you rest your head and hide from the people who hurt you. I can do that, Jeremy. I want to."

"Natalie."

"Come here."

"Natalie."

"Sanctuary, Jeremy."

"Natalie."

"Jeremy."

"Sanctuary?"

"Come here."


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