*

Authors note: Part three of my trilogy, following straight on from
"Such Great Heights" part B. Once again, I've split it into
two parts because of length.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own these characters
`yady-yada-yady-yada-ya...' (don't own that quote either!).
Again, the title of the fic is from the song "Cinders" by Sarah
Blasko and all lyrics used are hers to claim also.

Rating: MA… Strong adult and sexual themes, language etc. If you
think you'll be offended by such material, drop me a line at
ella_bella55@yahoo.com.au <mailto:ella_bella55@yahoo.com.au> and
I'll send you an edited version if you like.

*

Part 3: Cinders (part A)

*

The hustle and bustle of the factory stopped in its tracks as the roller
door opened, a familiar sedan driving in. Bernie stepped out, only to be
greeted with the sound of applause and wolf whistles, shaking his head
as he headed for the stairs to his office.

"Yeah, yeah. Thank you," He called out, appearing nonchalant but
secretly basking in the lavish attention. Oscar appeared at his side,
patting his good shoulder.

"Welcome back, Bernie!" He greeted as he passed. Angie
approached from the opposite direction, paper fresh from the fax machine
in her hands.

"Yeah, how's the arm feeling?" She asked, a wide welcoming
grin on her face.

"Much better, thanks Angie."

Mac leaned against the railing outside both hers and Bernie's
offices, greeting him as he climbed up the steps.

"Nice to see you back, Bernie," She smiled, pushing herself off
the railing.

"Nice to be back, Mac," She followed him into his office,
standing in front of his desk as he took a seat behind it, shuffling
through the array of paperwork before him.

"How was your time off?"

"You mean between all the bullet dodging?" He asked, looking up
and smirking. It had been nearly three weeks since the incident with
Garner in the abattoir, and Mac had already thanked him countless times
for taking that bullet and getting her out of there. "No, it was
nice to spend some time with Lucy and the kids."

Peter walked past the office at that point, tapping his open palm on the
frame.

"Good to see you there, Rocca!"

"Yeah, thanks Church," Bernie called back, pausing for a moment
before standing. "Hey Church!" Peter appeared in the doorframe
again, eyebrows raised in response. "What's this I hear about a
bikie gang in woop woop?" Pete shrugged.

"Early days. An informer might be able to get me an in –
apparently these blokes are dealing in a bit of grass and speed. Silly
prick was supposed to call me back two days ago."

"Okay. Well, keep me informed," Bernie sighed, sitting again.
Peter winked at him before departing.

"Sure thing, Boss."

Bernie looked incredulously over at Mac, who still stood in front of
him.

"Well, somebody's looking a lot brighter than I remember
him."

"Hmm, he is, isn't he?" She agreed curiously, her arms
folded as she spun on her heel and exited the room. "Enjoy the
paperwork!" She called over her shoulder. Bernie grimaced, shifting
a few sheets around blindly.

"Hmm," He mumbled, unimpressed.

*

"Hey Bernie," Peter stepped out of the bunk room, snapping his
phone shut. He met Bernie and the others in the desk area. "Just got
a call from Jerry. He reckons the bikies have just gotten a new delivery
of speed from their suppliers and he can hook me up with them tomorrow
afternoon if I'm interested."

"Good, good," Bernie nodded approvingly. Mac chimed in.

"Time and place?"

"I'm calling him tomorrow morning to organise finer
details."

"Hang on, where abouts are these blokes again?" Bernie
interjected, knowing they were well out of the city, but not knowing how
far. Peter grinned, scratching his head.

"Only in Swann Reach…" He trailed off as Angie scoffed.

"Ha! That's at least three hours out of the city!"

"Hmm, you reckon they'll be more into Calvin Klein or
tracky-daks and flannel?" Oscar joked. Peter chuckled and Mac rolled
her eyes.

"Ha ha, Stone. Okay everyone, back to work!"

*

Peter opened his front door later that night, his face breaking into a
grin as he was greeted by a flustered Mac.

"Sorry I'm late," She sighed, stepping inside. "Bernie
kept me back with all the catch up from the past few weeks and then he
wanted to have a drink and a chat about the business with Garner. I
couldn't get away–"

He cut her off, kissing her hungrily. Her bag slid from her hands,
dropping to the floor beside her as she moaned comfortably into his
mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. Peter's hands circled
her back, moving down to her waist, hips and behind, pulling her body
close to his. They spun a full circle, Mac winding up pressed against
the wall of his living room, Peter pinning her hands above her head.

"You were saying?" He teased breathlessly, each of them grinning
beneath intermittent pecks.

"Uh, you're horrible…" Mac mumbled as she leaned forward,
moving off the wall. They stumbled around the corner, clumsily making
their way towards his bedroom; their lips never breaking apart for more
than two seconds at a time.

"Oh, I am, am I?" Pete asked huskily. Mac nodded in reply as she
stood with her back to the bed. Without looking behind her, she stepped
backwards onto the bed, tucking her legs underneath her body so that she
knelt at face level to him, their kisses slowly becoming more intense.
She spread her legs apart as he pressed his body against hers; each of
them melting at the other's touch. While her hands cradled his face,
his slowly traced down the sides of her torso, resting at her hips
momentarily before moving down behind her bent knees. In one swift
movement, he pulled her knees up around either side of him, sending Mac
falling flat on her back against the bed. She shrieked at the sudden
movement and Pete hoisted himself to lie on top of her. She shoved him
in the chest playfully.

"Peter!"

He laughed, his hand creeping under her shirt as he kissed her smile.

*

~
Slow falling whispers on pricked up ears Slow burning cinders, three
long years between When we lit them in so much haste High hazard
seasons, houses laid to waste
~

*

Mac stirred the following morning, the light that filtered in from
behind the blinds awakening her slowly. She drew in a deep breath,
eyelids fluttering open. She smiled contently upon feeling Peter's
hand draped across her bare hips, rolling onto her back to see if he was
awake behind her. His breathing was deep and consistent and his face
held the same peaceful _expression that Mac had only ever seen when he
was asleep – he was never peaceful otherwise! She slid from beneath
his gentle grasp and out of the warm covers, her squinted eyes searching
his bedroom for something to wear. She opened his wardrobe, standing as
the cool morning air caused goose bumps to rise along her naked body.
She pondered for a moment before spotting his white robe. Mac heard him
stir in the bed behind her and she turned to check if he was awake while
she slipped the robe over her shoulders, tying it firmly at the waist as
she watched Peter settle into a comfortable sleep again.

She fiddled with the coffee maker, trying to contain her jump as she
felt strong yet gentle hands creep around her waist; a chin nestling
into her shoulder and lips finding her neck. She grinned but didn't
turn around.

"Morning," She greeted, tracing her fingers along the bare
forearms around her middle, before resting her hands on top of his.

"Morning," He repeated, mumbling into her neck. The combination
of his unshaven face and his warm breath against her soft skin caused
her to giggle lightly under her breath. He raised his head, taking a
step back as he yawned loudly. "Ahh, I'm starving…"

Mac smirked. Romance never lasted long this early in the morning, she
thought dryly. She heard the fridge open behind her.

"Yeah, I've put some toast down," She began as she finally
turned around, leaning back against the bench. Her chain of thought was
altered by the sight of him – starkers, again – and she frowned
slightly, her lips curling into a curious half smile. "I have to
ask. Do you usually walk around your house like this, or is this purely
for my benefit?" Her tone grew drier as the sentence went on. Pete
grinned, clearly not self conscious in her presence, and stepped close
to her.

"Well, you see, someone stole my robe this morning," He replied
teasingly, his hands toying with the knot at her waist. Mac tilted her
head back in mock comprehension.

"Ahh," She acknowledged exaggeratedly. Her eyes travelled to the
ceiling briefly before returning to Peter, looking him up and down.
"Bit cold there?" She teased, her eyes sparkling. Pete's
eyes narrowed as she suppressed her own laughter, before twinkling also.

"You wanna share?" He asked huskily, his _expression changing and
his fingers gently easing the robe's tie undone. Mac watched him for
a moment, curious. He stepped closer as the panels of white fabric fell
open, revealing Mac's bare body. He pressed his own flesh against
hers, his lips meeting hers gently. Her eyes fell closed as she kissed
him back hungrily and wrapped the robe around him, enclosing both their
bodies. Her closed eyes in turn shut off the rest of her senses; all Mac
could feel was naked flesh against naked flesh; two pairs of lips
eagerly catching each other. His hands ran tenderly along her warm, soft
skin and he smiled against her mouth. "Warmer now," He
commented, making her groan as she realised to what he was referring.

"Peter…" Her warning tone continued to contradict her fervent
actions. "Ugh, you need to brush your teeth," She whined, but
she didn't stop kissing him.

"Yeah, so do you!" He fired back, the thought never re-entering
his head as he lead their aroused white cocoon over to the nearby couch.

*

Mac watched on, unamused as the heated table tennis tournament between
Oscar and Peter continued at the factory.

"Peter, have you heard from Jerry yet?" She asked, anxiously.

"Nup," He replied absently, his eyes never leaving the ball.

"Well, should we be worried?"

"Nah, I'm supposed to call him today," He responded, not
missing a beat. Mac exhaled loudly in frustration.

"Well, would you like to do that now?"

The pace of the intense ping pong rally quickened.

"Yeah, in a minute…"

Mac reached forward, catching the ball mid-rally and holding it to her
side.

"Now," She said firmly, staring him squarely in the eye. He
threw his small bat on the table in frustration, walking away and not
saying a word. Mac released the breath she hadn't realised she was
holding upon seeing Peter grab his phone off his desk on his way. Oscar
probably would have been angry too if he wasn't so amazed at her
coordination. It took a fair bit of skill to catch such a light ball
like that, especially considering the amount of force they'd been
putting behind it. She eyed him as he gestured to the ball in her hand.

"That's some pretty good hand-eye coordination you've got
there, Mac," He complimented.

"Hmm," Was the only response he received. He followed her
distant eyes to where Peter was pacing angrily in the briefing room,
phone perched at his ear. "I don't see what his problem is. He
was losing anyway," Mac smirked.

"Losing is his problem. And so is authority," She commented
dryly, not looking forward to having to deal with him later. Tiffs at
work like these probably helped hide the fact that were involved outside
of work hours from the others, and one of the conditions of their
relationship had always been no special consideration at work. Mac knew
he respected that. But it wasn't so easy sometimes.

*

"Okay Jerry, just get the introductions out of the way and let me do
the rest of the talking," Peter instructed as he and Jerry
approached the Riverside Hotel of Swann Reach, noting the array of
motorbikes lined up alongside the old structure. It was the only pub in
the district, but regular public attendance was waning due to the large
population of bikies that collected there.

"No worries, Boss," Jerry agreed, rubbing his sweaty hands
nervously on his grubby blue flannel shirt. "You shouldn't have
too much trouble getting them interested, you know? I mean they–"

"Jerry, what did I just say?" Peter cut him off, standing at the
entrance. Jerry paused, pressing his lips together and pretending to
throw away the key. Pete slapped him on the shoulder. "Good
man."

Peter went back years with Jerry, a part-time dealer and full-time
layabout. In his mid-forties, Jerry was a short man with a poorly
fashioned wardrobe that included faded denim and moccasins, but what
Jerry lacked in stature, he made up for with talk. It was for this
reason that Peter decided it was best to be introduced to the bikies
using his own first name; with the amount of garbage that spilled
uncontrollably from Jerry's mouth, he was bound to slip up at least
once – Peter was sure of that. It was a tactic he had often used
when working with Jerry.

"That's them," Jerry hissed, gesturing over to a crew of
black-clad, unkempt and rowdy men around the pool table. Pete nodded,
leading a confused Jerry away from the gang and towards the bar.

"Let's just get a beer first," He suggested. Softly, softly,
he reminded himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Angie and
Oscar enter the pub, ordering a couple drinks and taking a seat in the
far corner. It was too early in the game to be wearing a wire, but out
in the middle of nowhere, it made sense to have some discreet
surveillance. Peter sipped his beer after scratching his unshaven face
– Mac had insisted that he leave it that way earlier that morning.
It would suit the part, she had assured him.

"G'day there, Jerry," A metal clad hand rested on
Jerry's narrow shoulder. He glanced up, facing Peter rather than the
bikie belonging to the hand as he spoke.

"Oh, G'day Vin. This is Peter, the bloke I was tellin' ya
about," Jerry's high pitched voice squeaked, winking obviously
at Peter. Pete's _expression remained neutral as he cringed inwardly
at Jerry's lack of subtlety, nodding at Vin as he raised his chin.

"G'day."

"Haven't seen ya `round here before," Vin stated rather
than asked. He was as broadly built as he was tall; his greying hair
balding at the top and ending with a greasy rat's tail. His thick
white goatee was surrounded by lazy stubble and he was missing half of
one of his front teeth.

"Just passin'. Admiring the scenery," Peter replied coolly.
Vin raised an eyebrow, squeezing Jerry's shoulder.

"Jerry here says you're admiring somethin' in
particular."

"Jerry here might be right for once," Peter paused, deciding how
to play his cards. "You want a beer?"

Vin cocked his head to the side indifferently. Peter ordered another
round, swallowing the remainder of his own glass.

*

They gathered around the briefing table the following day. Peter finally
lifted his sunglasses to sit atop of his head, relaxing into his seat.
The meet with Vin and the others had stretched well into night and Peter
had learnt the hard way that an early morning drive back from Swann
Reach was not ideal when hung over.

"The speed sample Vin gave me is still being analysed, but it looked
like he knew what he was doing. Said we could do a deal as soon as I
came up with the cash. Reckoned he could get me some green as well,"
Peter recounted and Bernie nodded, impressed.

"Good, good. And he trusts you?" Bernie asked as Peter shrugged.

"I'm in with his mates if that's what you been. Flexed out
the beer budget though," Peter grinned, turning serious upon
receiving an unimpressed smirk from Bernie. "It's just a small
deal so far. I told him there'd be more business for him if the
sample turned out good. He trusts me enough to let greed will take over,
at least."

"They always do," Oscar mused, receiving brief smiles all round.

"How was Jerry?" Mac asked as Peter snorted.

"Jerry's a bloody liability, like he always is. Vin and the
others are using him as much as he's using them, I reckon. The
sooner I get rid of him, the better," Mac nodded in agreement while
Bernie frowned, concerned.

"You think you can go it alone with those blokes?"

Peter paused, shrugging.

"I think they might respond even better with a bit of skirt hanging
around," He said calculatedly. He knew which particular skirt
he'd appreciate by his side.

"Church!" Angie exclaimed, her eyebrows raising as she repeated
sourly: "`Bit of skirt?'" Peter grinned broadly, spreading his
arms.

"What? Just getting into character!" Angie scoffed at his poor
defence.

"Yeah, right!"

"Nah, seriously. They couldn't take their eyes off you or that
other woman at the pub last night. I think the right lookin' lady by
my side would win them over," Angie and Mac each rolled their eyes
as Bernie considered Church carefully.

"Alright, well Angie's out, so that leaves Mac. Work on your
covers and I'll work on getting the money together. We'll try
and get back out there in a few days time."

Bernie concluded, standing and moving to his office. The others
followed; Angie giving Peter another dirty look as she passed him in the
doorway. He raised his hands helplessly flashing Mac a feeble smile as
he followed Angie into the main area. Mac stifled a laugh, her
_expression changing suddenly. She bit her lip, heading straight for her
locker.

*

"Shit!" Mac muttered under her breath in frustration as she
rummaged through her locker. Her period was early and she could've
sworn she'd kept some supplies in there.

"Are you alright, Mac?" Mac jumped at the sound of Angie's
voice behind her.

"Yeah, I just…I thought I had some tampons in here," She
explained, her voice stilted and embarrassed. "I'm early
and–" She was cut off as a smiling Angie handed her a box of
Carefree regulars from her own locker.

"Help yourself," Angie offered, an amused grin playing on her
lips as relief visibly washed over Mac.

"Oh Ange, you're a lifesaver!"

"She's a what?" Oscar asked as he entered the small room,
opening his locker and fishing out his running shoes. Mac's clenched
hand dropped to her side and she and Angie shared a knowing glance
before Mac headed towards the unisex toilets, calling over her shoulder.

"Nothing, Stone!"

Oscar frowned, turning to Angie with a look of genuine confusion on his
face.

"What?" He asked again. Angie grinned, ruffling his floppy hair
with her hand patronisingly.

"Secret women's business, Stoney. Nothing for you to worry
about."

"Oh," He mumbled indifferently, his _expression changing upon
comprehending. "Oh!" He repeated again, his tone entirely
different as he grew uncomfortable. He was embarrassed – he never
really thought of Mac as being a woman; only ever as his supervisor.
Angie snickered at his discomfort, patting him on the back as she exited
the tiny locker room.

*

Peter caught a surprised Mac as she exited the bathroom, pulling her
into a dark corner of a deserted room.

"Peter!" She hissed, pretending to be unimpressed by the
exciting situation that begun to unfold before her. Bernie was right
next door; Angie and Oscar were just outside…

"Hey," He whispered warmly, planting his mouth on top of hers.
He kissed her tenderly and it took Mac a moment before she responded,
relaxing into his embrace. His hands circled her waist and lower back,
pulling her hips close to his as she leant up against the wall. Eager
hands ran everywhere but it wasn't until Peter's hand began to
move up her skirt that she halted things where they were.

"Mm," She mumbled urgently into his mouth, pulling back from his
touch. "No such luck," She whispered breathlessly, shaking the
box of tampons that remained in her hand in front of his face. It took a
moment for Peter's eyes to register what she was holding in the dim
light. When it did, his cheeks burned.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," She repeated, smirking. "I'm about as
impressed as you are," He raised his eyebrows.

"Unexpected?"

"Mm hm," She hummed, unamused. He smiled, brushing her flustered
cheek with the back of his hand and leaning in to kiss her gently.

"You feeling okay?"

"Oh yeah. Not too bad," She shrugged, leaning in for another
soft kiss.

"Can I still come around tonight?" He asked as he pulled away.
Mac raised her eyebrows at him sceptically.

"You realise you won't be getting any," Peter scoffed at her
smart tone.

"You think that's the only reason I want to see you, hey
Ellen?" He fired back, matching her _expression exactly. He grinned
as the colour in her cheeks rose.

"You've never called me Ellen before," She pointed out, a
smile creeping across her lips as she kissed him playfully. "I like
it," Pete chuckled at her cheeky voice.

"Come on. Let me cook you dinner, look after you?" He insisted,
causing Mac to stifle a laugh.

"Peter, I'm not exactly on my death bed!" He shared her
grin.

"I know…I just thought it'd be nice. Come on, it's not
like you to turn down a home-cooked meal," He urged, knowing he
wouldn't have to try too hard before she gave in.

As it turned out, he was right.

*

"Uh, stay right there!" Peter warned from her kitchen. Mac
squirmed in her seat at the table.

"Peter, I'm not an invalid!" She insisted.

"Yeah, I know that."

"So let me help!"

"Sorry Mac! No can do."

Mac rolled her eyes, standing anyway and joining him in his newfound
domain. She smiled coyly at him as she leant against the doorframe. He
was finishing up, adding the final garnish to the pasta dishes with a
look of concentration on his face and a tea towel tossed over his
shoulder. He looked very cute.

"Need a hand?" She asked. His eyes glanced up at the closeness
of her voice, a smirk playing on his face.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

"Come on, Church. Have you ever seen me sit back on my hands and do
nothing?" She asked drolly, rousing a chuckle in Peter.

"Right. Well, come on," He ushered her out of the kitchen with
steaming a bowl in each hand. He set one in front of her as she resumed
her place at the table, placing his at the adjacent seat and pouring
each of them a glass of wine before sitting down.

"Well, you're just too good to be true," Mac commented
playfully. Pete smiled a proud, inviting smile.

"I try."

~
Time has its reasons for letting go Comes as it pleases. This new growth
beneath Where the branches are cracked and bowed
Covers the feelings these old scars still show

~

"Pete-"

"Mac-"

They each began at the same time, laughing lightly.

"You go first," Mac offered as Peter shook his head, taking a
sip of wine.

"No, you go."

Mac took a deep breath, carefully considering the consequences before
asking anyway:

"What are we doing here, Peter?" He forced an amused smile.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mac gulped her wine.

"Not really," She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut briefly before
verbalising everything on her mind. "I don't want to slip into
the same habits as last time, Pete. I don't think I can handle being
undercover twenty-four seven. It's not what I want."

"So, you want to end things?" Peter asked slowly, all elements
of humour now vanished. He stared into his plate, not making eye
contact. Mac leaned forward in her chair, resting her hands on his knee
and trying to meet his eyes.

"No, Peter, that's not it. I just…" She cast a glance to
the side, collecting her thoughts and courage. "I really like that
we're not sneaking around from cheap motel to cheap motel this time,
I like that you're cooking me dinner when I'm not feeling the
best," She sighed. "I just need to know where I stand."

Silence filled the room, and Mac grew uncomfortable, retracting her
hands from his knee and sitting back awkwardly.

"I really like being with you, Mac," Peter's voice
articulated, breaking the silence. "Love it, even," He added
slowly. A slow smile crept across Mac's lips. "I hated not being
with you."

"So did I," Mac admitted, fiddling with her hands in her lap.
She sighed, voicing the unsaid thoughts that had been the sole cause of
her inner guilt for a long time. "Pete I ended things last time
because I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you everyday. If
I'd left the unit, they would have transferred me out to woop woop.
We would have been split up regardless of which choice I made," She
looked up into his earnest face. "I'm really sorry I hurt
you."

"It probably all worked out for the best, anyway," Peter
shrugged, catching her eye and smiling as he spoke again. "You know,
don't know what you have til it's gone and all that." Mac
returned the smile.

"Yeah…"

"I mean it, Mac. I really want to make a go of it this time. Even if
it means having to be," He paused, searching for a more appealing
word "discreet at work again, we can make it work, can't
we?"

The corners of Mac's mouth curled up into a smile upon hearing Peter
articulate the very thoughts spinning in her own head.

"I think we could work something out," She agreed, rising from
her seat and settling on his welcoming lap. He ran his hand tenderly
along her leg, leaning in to kiss her gently. Her hand trailed lazily
through his unruly hair and she pulled back slowly, resting her forehead
against his. "Do you want to stay the night?" She asked
seductively. He smiled, catching her lips in his own for a moment.

"I didn't bring my pyjamas," He joked, causing her to grin.

"Oh, I think we could work something out," She repeated
teasingly as his hand slowly rounded her behind. He pulled back
suddenly, remembering.

"But I thought you had your-" Mac cut him off mid-sentence with
a deep kiss, easing his confusion with a sentence that intrigued him
more than anything.

"That doesn't mean we can't take care of you…"

~
Did you forget it all? Do you listen when I call? These fire trails lead
north And slowly back in time, Slowly back in time
~

*