Title: Spider Threads

Author: Rachael Wakely

Date: August 14, 2000

Summary: An emergency close to home unites the newest
team of Blue Heelers, as they fight for justice and
await news of their fallen colleague...

Author's Notes: I know! I finally wrote a bhfic!!
It's not a great effort, but definitely a start...
With a bit of encouragement (hint, hint ;) there might
be more where this came from - feedback appreciated
at: [email protected]. You can also read more of
my 27-odd stories at:
http://waterrats.webprovider.com.

Thanks for reading! *Rach*

Spider Threads
Rachael Wakely

"When the threads of a spider unite, they can tie up a
tiger."
Proverb

~*~*~

"Little Jack Horner sat in the corner-"

"No, wait, I've got a better one! Jack be nimble,
Jack be-"

"Jack and the Beanstalk!"

"Jack *is* the beanstalk, forget that!" The group
laughed and poor old Jack just sat in front of his
beer wondering how they'd ended up finding riddles and
nursery rhymes with his name in it, and wondering
moreso how he could change the topic. They'd been
there for all of half an hour, and somehow, regular
conversation had given way to Jack-harassment.

Jo, seeing his distress and choosing to ignore it,
winked at PJ and said, "Jack and Jill- *shush*!"
amidst the ooohs and insinuative glances "Blah blah
blah, Jack fell down and broke his crown-"

"-and Jo came tumbling after! Now can we *please*
change the topic?" Jack asked, looking pained. He cut
eyes at Jo, but she didn't seem worried by the threat.
She could take him on! And anyway, this game was
fun!

Seeing them, Tess rolled her eyes and grinned. "What
about Jack the Ripper?" she asked mischievously. "And
Jack of All Trades? And." She trailed off,
temporarily out of Jacks.

"Jack in the box!" Ben supplied, raising his eyebrows.
"Can we keep going, you reckon?"

"I can," Tess replied, sensing a challenge. "The
house that Jack built!"

"You're hopeless, the lotta you! I've got half a mind
to go home, to my own house-"

"The one you built?" PJ inquired innocently.

"-and have a beer or two in *peace* and *quiet*!
Anyway, it's late, and Mum likes me home before
eight."

"Aw, give it up, mate," PJ cajoled. "We're having fun
here, you can't leave yet!"

"Jack 'O Lantern?" Tess suggested to Ben. He nodded
approvingly and she smiled.

Jack sighed, knowing he was being mocked again. "I
think I might."

"But-"

"Hit the road, Jack!" Tess and Ben burst out
simultaneously. Jo started singing it softly, hooked
on the catchy tune, and Tess giggled in a way that
betrayed her serious position of Sergeant. Jo looked
at Jack with raised eyebrows - so the witch might be
human after all, she thought unkindly. As if reading
her thoughts, Jack just shrugged back, and pointed out
that that wasn't even a nursery rhyme, and couldn't
they think of anything better?

"Hey, it still counts," Ben teased. The others
supported him vigorously, and Jack knew his case was
up.

"'Nother round, anyone?" he said, nodding to Chris.

"Ha! He's trying to buy us off!" PJ exclaimed. "It
won't be done, my friend!"

"Yeah it will," Jo grinned. "I'd love one."

"Stewart? You drinking? Tess?" Jack asked slyly.

The two exchanged a glance. "Maybe." Tess
deliberated. "Whaddaya reckon?"

"I know what this is," Ben said, raising a finger and
pretending to think seriously about the issue. "And
I'd have to say. I'd love one."

"Me too," Tess added. "But you won't buy me off,
y'know."

"Oh yeah, so whiskey?" Jack joked.

"Save your pennies," she tossed back, "for - what's
her name again? Jill?" Jo snorted, then threw a hand
over her mouth, betrayed. Maybe Tess did have a sense
of humour after all - she definitely gave as good as
she got. It was strange, but she was really enjoying
herself tonight. Not that that was such an unusual
occurrence, but Tess' company usually precluded
anything even remotely pertaining to 'fun' - at least
wherever Jo was included. But for the first time
since Tess' arrival, Jo felt like they really were a
team. It was a good feeling, something she hadn't
been conscious of since Maggie's death. Maybe they
should pay out on Jack more often.

Stumped, Jack turned back to the counter. "Chris-"

Chris held up a hand sharply, listening into the
telephone. She looked tense, and Jack strained to
hear her side of the conversation, afraid that they
were going to get called out in a minute. Shit. All
he could hear were a few choice Irish words and
"uh-huhs".

He turned back to the others, and Jo jumped to her
feet when she saw the look on his face. Realising
that standing up was a bit pointless, seeing as she
hadn't been sent on a call yet, she sat down again.
Ben threw her a puzzled look and she shrugged.
"Nuthin'."

Chris covered the phone and, seeking out their table,
beckoned with her head. Tess stood up quickly, ready
to assume leadership, and she crossed over to the bar.
"What is it?" she asked.

"Uh, there's been an accident," Chris began, then
corrected herself. "It's not - you - somebody needs
to speak to - it's - oh, look, here you go," she said
quickly, handing the receiver across the counter.
Frustrated, she bit her lip and listened to Tess
speak. Jack hovered nearby, but she wouldn't tell him
yet. Tess was in charge now, and anyway, she had a
business to run. Though God knew how she was going to
stay focussed tonight.

"Sergeant Gallagher here," Tess said briskly.
"What?." Her face suddenly mimicked Chris'. Jack
threw a worried look to the rest of the group, then
leaned over to hear better. "Oh, God, no, no, we'll
be right down. No, we're all here, having dinner -
what room is he in?. You're kid- no, you're right,
you're right, well. We'll be there anyway, when he
wakes up. We'll need a word to you, too, sometime -
will you be there?. Good, good. I'll send some men
over to the house, too - look, thank you for calling,
I really-. Yep, right, see you soon."

She turned back to the table and in unison, they all
jumped up.

~*~*~

"Stewart, you see anything?" PJ asked, gingerly moving
through the house.

"No, nothing yet," Ben called back. Tess had sent
them both out to this shamble of a house in the dark
of night, without torches or even a match between
them. They didn't have anything, in fact, except PJ's
car - and that was pretty dodgy in itself. The
backseat had contained a Polaroid camera, however,
which had saved them a trip to the station. Suddenly,
Ben stopped. "Oh, shit," he swore softly. "PJ, come
here!"

PJ rushed into the main bedroom where he thought Ben's
voice had come from. Seeing that he wasn't there, he
continued into the small bathroom adjacent. "Whatcha
got?" he started to ask, then bit back his words as he
saw the shattered glass on the floor. Following it up
to the window, he was only slightly surprised to see a
hole the size of a dinner plate, edged with flecks of
red. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "Okay, how about
you head outside to check for footprints and I'll join
you in a bit?"

"Righty-o," Ben agreed, heading out carefully.

When he was alone, PJ shook his head, surveying the
mess. No wonder the poor man had suffered a heart
attack, he thought. Between the sound of the glass
and the actual home invasion. He would have been
reading by the fire, PJ thought, probably drinking a
cuppa and eating a Tim Tam or three. He imagined him
hearing the smash, then looking up and seeing a
stranger in his own home - it was no wonder, PJ
thought. He didn't know whether to be angry,
indignant, confused or just plain concerned.

Confusion won out, though only by force of habit. PJ
crouched down and started scanning the floor surface
for any hint, any clue that might lead him to the
identity of the intruder. He scraped up a couple of
pieces of blood-stained glass, then, as nothing else
presented itself, he rose. After taking a few
pictures for the record, PJ headed out to join Ben.

"Anything?" he asked. The cool night air sent a chill
through his chest.

Ben jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and
stood up. "Here," he said. "Get a picture."

PJ thanked his stars that the light from the house
reached the narrow shoe-sized indent in the soft
topsoil. He took two pictures and looked at Ben.
"That it?"

"It's not exactly daylight out here, PJ," Ben pointed
out. "We'd do better to come back tomorrow and see if
anything else turns up. Hm? What do you think?"

"I hate doing this," PJ said, half to himself. To
Ben, he said, "You're right. There's nothing we can
do. Let's go to the hospital and check in with the
troops."

"I'll give 'em a call," Ben offered, "Let them know
we're on our way."

"Thinking," PJ nodded.

Inside, Ben dialed the hospital and requested one of
his colleagues. Being put on to Tess, he said,
skipping pleasantries, "We're on our way out again."

"Found anything?" she asked sharply.

"Possibly. A shoeprint - small - and a pane of broken
glass in the bathroom. Blood," he added.

"Good." She nodded. There was a pause.

"How is he?" Ben asked suddenly, pressing down the
panic that rose in his throat.

"Tom? He's still in surgery," Tess said. "And right
now, we're not quite sure."

~*~*~

A few hours later, PJ was still pacing the halls of
the hospital. Sally Downey was watching him with a
tired, slightly annoyed eye. Though she was staying
also, PJ had volunteered to hang around, too, just in
case anything changed. Everyone else had gone home
for the night, the light mood well and truly broken.
Somehow, PJ doubted that this was the kind of
diversion Jack had been hoping for.

>From all appearances, it looked like Tom's house had
been the site of a break and enter shortly before
eight o'clock. The bathroom had been the point of
entry, but for what purpose, PJ had no idea. God knew
there wasn't much of value in there. Everything Tom
owned had personal value attached to it rather than
any monetary value - a life of policing, PJ knew,
didn't reap any great financial benefits. Tom wasn't
the kind of person to care about that, either, and
there was nothing about the house to recommend it to
crooks any more than the next house. Which was a fair
ways away, PJ thought, making a mental note.

As he was about to do another round of the floor, a
young nurse approached him.

"There's a call for you, Detective Hasham," she
informed him. "Front desk."

"Thanks, Michelle," he nodded. He followed her to the
desk and answered, "Hello?"

"PJ?" It was Jo. "How is he?"

"Out of surgery," PJ shrugged. "He's under for now,
and I reckon I might head home soon. Why aren't you
in bed?"

"I am," she said, adding, before PJ could comment on
that, "I can't sleep."

Biting back an inappropriate response, he said
instead, "Don't blame you. I can't stop pacing. I
know I won't sleep tonight, either."

"Mm," she agreed sympathetically. "I've got half a
mind to head down to the Imperial, see if Jack's up.
Maybe get a drink or something."

"Want a ride?" PJ asked.

"What, you wanna come?"

"Maybe."

"Then yeah, that'd be great."

PJ leaned against the counter and checked his watch
again. "11:45," he said. "Friday night. What a
night."

"No kidding," she concurred.

"Look, get dressed and I'll be round in ten, okay?"

"Yeah." Jo stared at the ceiling. She didn't really
want to go out, but anything would be better than
lying here, worrying.

"See ya soon, Parrish."

"See ya." She hung up with a click and sighed loudly.
Some Friday night. Finally she summoned the energy
to move and just as she was dragging on a pair of
jeans, the doorbell went. "Coming!" she hollered,
scrambling for a shirt. Finding one, she headed to
the door, only to find PJ standing inside already,
shaking rain off his jacket.

"Speaking of break and enters," he started.

"Don't," she warned. "I'm tired and I'm cranky."

"Sounds like you'll be good company, then," he smiled.
"C'mon, let's go."

~*~*~

When they arrived at the Imperial for the second time
that night, neither Jo nor PJ was surprised to see the
rest of their colleagues already there. A depressed
silence hung over the group, and Ben was the only one
who bothered to look up as they sat down.

"Hey," he greeted them.

"What, you couldn't sleep either?" PJ asked.
"Insomnia's going around."

"Drinks are going around," Chris interjected, coming
up behind them with a tray of beers. "On the house,"
she added, joining them.

"How's business, Chrissy?" PJ asked.

"The usual," she sighed. "Friday night, you know how
it is."

"Mm."

"Oh, come on!" she exclaimed. "The lotta you look
like beaten puppies! He isn't dead, you know." No
one answered. "Look, I'm sure he'll be fine," Chris
tried again. "But you've gotta remember, he's not a
young man anymore. These things happen."

"They don't have to," Jo said vehemently. "This
wasn't supposed to."

"Well, are you going to catch the guy?" Chris asked
reasonably.

"Of course we are," Tess said quickly.

"Then -"

"That's not the point, Chris," Ben spoke up. "I
just."

"What would anyone have against him?" Jo wondered out
loud.

Tess sent her a scathing look that went unnoticed.
"What *wouldn't* any *crook* have against him?" she
said.

"Oh. Yeah. But. God," Jo sighed, feeling helpless.
"He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"No one physically hurt him," PJ reminded her.

"It was those burgers," Jack mulled. "From now on,
we're eating salads for lunch."

Chris rolled her eyes. "It wasn't my sandwiches," she
scolded. "And they're not burgers! They're - in
betweeners."

"And it could have been a lot of things," Ben put in.
"Strokes - well, he knew he was in the high-risk
category."

"I tried to warn him," Chris said. "But he doesn't
listen, you know that. Drinks?" The group nodded
their general agreement on both counts. Chris rose to
pour some more.

"Who's on early shift with me tomorrow?" Jack asked
with a wry smile. Jo raised her hand.

"Sucks to be you," PJ smirked.

"Ha ha," she muttered.

"Drinks!" Chris announced, and the night wore on.

~*~*~

"Oh, piss off," Jo slurred, shrugging off the hand
that was shaking her shoulder. She pulled the blanket
over her head and hoped that Jack would go away and
leave her in peace. It was too early to get up and
she had a pounding headache.

"Jo, wake up, we're gonna be late," Jack sighed in
frustration. "Jo." He sat on the bed and looked at
her. He couldn't remember what time they'd gotten in
last night, only that it had been either very late or
very early. The others had packed it in for the
night, and seeing that Jo was effectively stranded at
the pub, he'd offered her a bed. Well, a couch and
blankets. It was only decent, seeing as they both had
the early shift. And he should have known she'd
oversleep.

"Go 'way," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut. All
she wanted to do was sleep. But. "What time is it?"
she asked, forcing herself to wake up.

"Five fifty," he said, checking his watch. "Look, get
up, take a shower here, and we'll drop past your place
on the way to work, okay?"

"We have to be there by six," she sighed. Ten
minutes.

"So get up!" He tried to bite back a smile, knowing
that she'd be mad if she caught him laughing at her.

"I can't!" she moaned dramatically, from under the
blankets. "Go on without me! Bring help!"

"I'll bring Panadol, will that do?" he offered.

"No. Coffee," she said grumpily.

"You're such a grouch," he smiled. He leaned over and
pulled the blankets off, simultaneously whipping away
the pillow. Amidst her cries of protest, he headed
over to the small coffee maker on the dresser. "Go!
Shower!"

"Fine," she said, dragging herself up and stumbling
towards the bathroom. Jack watched her with a broader
smile this time, then turned back to the coffee maker
and hoped she didn't take milk or sugar.

~*~*~

"Mate!" PJ growled. "Do you have *any* idea what time
it is?"

"Sorry," Ben apologised quickly. "I just thought you
might want to know that Tom's woken up. I'm at the
hospital now."

"Huh?" PJ sat up quickly. "How is he?"

"Not great, but improving. Luckily, it wasn't a bad
one, and the doctor said he should make a full
recovery. He's going to need a bit of time off - a
lot of time, actually, but he'll be okay."

"Thank God for that," PJ sighed, feeling old. "Have
you spoken to him yet?"

"No, I was just about to. Sally's in with him at the
moment, and she said that his daughter's coming in
this afternoon."

"Oh, good," PJ nodded. "Look, give me half an hour
and I'll be down as quick as I can, okay?"

"Take your time," Ben shrugged. "He's not going
anywhere."

But PJ had already hung up the phone.

~*~*~

"Here you go," Jack said, setting the steaming cup on
Jo's desk.

"You are a legend," she whispered, cupping a hand over
the phone. Then, speaking into the receiver again,
"But you're his closest neighbour. Surely you must
have heard something."

"Who is it?" Jack whispered.

With a hand over the phone again, she said, "John
Briggs. Yes, sir, the policeman."

PJ entered the station at that moment, with Ben in
tow. "He's awake!" he announced, throwing up his
arms. "We have a witness!"

"We have a boss," Tess said pointedly, coming out of
the cells. "Did you speak to him?"

"Oh, fair dinkum, Tess, he only just woke up. But, we
did have a quick word to him and he seems to remember
everything clearly enough. Nurse McCoy kicked us out
after about two minutes though - seems he needs his
rest."

"Well, when can we speak to him again?" she frowned.
She hated inconveniences, almost as much as she hated
waiting for people.

"This afternoon, health permitting," Ben said.

"Now, about those samples-" Tess began, but PJ
interrupted her.

"Done. I sent them off first thing - hopefully the
process will be a bit quicker than usual, cop's code
and all that."

"Hopefully," she said grimly. "Okay, good work."

Hanging up the phone, Jo grinned at them. "That's
terrific," she said genuinely. "Especially because
his nearest neighbour, Mr. Briggs, lives several
kilometers away and didn't notice a thing." She
rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"With any luck, this should be fairly open and
closed," Jack said tentatively. "Suspects?"

PJ checked his notepad. "Three - Sam and Tracey
Smith, those sisters we called in last week suspected
of breaking and entering, and Mallory Henderson,
recently released on bail." Jack was right, it should
be fairly simple.

"What was he in for?" Jo asked.

PJ grinned. "Break and enter, natch. We'll make a
detective of you yet, Parrish." She ducked her head
to hide a smile. He knew.

"So, get on the phone to the Smith sisters?" Jack
asked, reaching for the phone.

"Yep, and then Lucky Mal," PJ nodded.

"Lucky Mal?" Tess asked, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't
he just get out of jail?"

"Yeah. Seems like his luck ran out," PJ affirmed with
a wink.

"Oh." Slightly puzzled, she returned to her desk.

"Yep. Thank you very much." Jack hung up the phone.
"PJ, they'll be in soon. PJ?" PJ stuck his head out
of the door to his office. "They'll be in soon," Jack
repeated.

"Ta, mate." The door shut again.

~*~*~

That afternoon, PJ had a good feeling. About himself,
and about the whole team. They had pulled together,
*really* pulled together, and Tom's assailant was now
being charged by Tess and Ben in the interview room.

The thing was, since Maggie's death, it didn't always
seem like they were a real team. Most of the friction
was between Tess and Jo - between Tess and anyone,
really - but it went deeper than that. They weren't
on the same side, the same no-matter-what bond that
had once existed within the Mt. Thomas team wasn't
there any more. For a while there, it had been
running smoothly. Then Maggie - well, after that.
incident? - incident! - things had changed.

For him, they had changed forever. For the others, it
was simply about the dynamics within the station. It
was an empty ache inside of him now, Maggie's absence,
and though he was usually able to push it aside, push
it further down, it was always there. He was
reconciled to the fact that it always *would* be
there, too. But life goes on.

It was almost as though, after the whole Witness
Protection episode, he had been purged of his grief
for Maggie. The first time, it had been so real for
him - it was an explosion of grief that he couldn't
contain, yet after it was gone, he couldn't cry
anymore. Even after her real death, the tears came
with difficulty. More often than not, he would sob
tearlessly, staring at her picture, clutching
something - anything - that reminded him of her.

She wouldn't go away.

At work, things had carried on almost as usual. In a
way, it was frustrating, even insulting, but in
another, PJ knew that it was necessary. Sometimes he
could almost convince himself she had transferred. As
the days had gone by, it got easier to laugh, but
still. Things had changed. He didn't even feel like
part of the team on some days. He felt decidedly old,
as though a part of him had died with Maggie. A
capacity for love, maybe - something tied to his
youth. He'd seriously considered a transfer.

Then Tess had arrived.

It was as though her arrival marked a new chapter in
the history of the station. She was a genuine
powerhouse - in way, she reminded him of his Maggie.
In others, though, she was impossibly different. She
was small and tough, older than her years. She had no
qualms about throwing her weight around, even picking
fights with him. And everyone's reaction to her had
been equally impacting. We woke up, PJ thought.

No one moped anymore. Everyone was alive, awake,
fighting and pushing their way through the
pecking-order. Tess kept them on their toes. She
demanded their full attention because, unlike Tom, she
had never known Maggie. They had no excuse, or
defense, against her wrath.

It was at that moment that Tess stuck her head through
the door and PJ snapped out of his reverie. Slightly
startled, he looked up at her.

"PJ, Tom's on the phone," she said gently. "He wants
to speak to you."

"Thanks, Tess," PJ said, reaching for the receiver.

"Oh, and Lucky Mal's been arrested and charged," she
reported. "You're right about his luck. He did it
for a joke, for a good old scare. He admitted to
breaking and entering, and we've also got him on
attempted murder for a crowbar in his possession."

PJ raised his eyebrows. "Murder?"

She shrugged. "Why not? We'll see what the judge has
to say about it. Meanwhile-" She indicated towards
the phone.

"Yeah, thanks," PJ said again. He paused, then added.
"We did all right."

Impulsively, she grinned at him. "Yeah, we did," she
agreed.

After she was gone, PJ smiled to himself and picked up
the phone.

The End

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