Authors note: Final instalment, following straight on from
"Cinders" part A.

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…Adult themes, language, and another explicit sex scene.
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 B)

*

Later that week, a dusty old-model corolla hit the highway to Swann
Reach, two covert surveillance vehicles following.

Mac sighed, leaning her head against the passenger-side window. She
hated long car trips – always had; especially as a kid.

"Mm, country life," Peter hummed in mock appreciation at the
deserted land either side of the road. Mac glanced over at him, an
eyebrow raised, before returning her eyes to the window.

"Yeah, love the scenery," She stated sarcastically, causing Pete
to chuckle. She patted the old dashboard of the small brown hatchback.
"I hope this old thing makes the distance," She said dryly.

"She has once before. Have a little faith, Mac," He taunted,
smiling.

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about. I don't think
she's used to your driving. Your last trip probably tipped her over
the edge."

"What's wrong with my driving?" Peter asked defensively,
pressing his foot to the accelerator. Mac didn't need to look the
odometer to know he was definitely speeding.

"Peter!" She exclaimed, leaning forward and latching onto the
forearm nearest to her. He raised his eyebrows, not releasing his foot,
his _expression tense and unrelenting. He broke into a grin, reaching
over and patting her thigh jokingly.

"Ah, you love it!"

"Ha," Mac muttered, her face unimpressed but her eyes twinkling.

He eased his foot and watched her squirm in her uncomfortable clothes in
her uncomfortable seat. They were dressed and ready for the pub, which
meant loose, torn jeans, blundstones and a flannelette shirt tossed over
his black Jack Daniels t-shirt for Peter. He was pretty comfortable.
Mac, on the other hand, wore much more figure-hugging jeans and a plain
black fitted singlet with her black bra straps showing. Her dark hair
was down and wavy, and she folded her bare arms across her chest, trying
to warm up a little. Despite having the figure for it, Mac hated wearing
fitted clothes. She was glad she'd rejected the leather pants that
she'd originally contemplated wearing for the role.

Peter glanced over at her, noting her chilled posture and reached out,
squeezing her thigh gently.

"Cold?" He asked and she nodded her reply. He loosened his
seatbelt, wriggling in the driver's seat as he tried to shrug his
green shirt from his shoulders. "Give us a hand?"

Mac sat up, reaching over to help him remove the long-sleeved flannel,
draping it over her cold arms gratefully.

"Ta," She thanked him. He looked over at her out of the corner
of his eye, a grin forming on his lips at the sight of her. She frowned
curiously. "What?"

He shook his head, chuckling.

"You'll really fit in at the pub now," He explained.

"Ha ha," Mac smirked, reaching out to hold his spare hand.

*

"Lolly?" Stone offered to Angie as he helped himself.
Bernie's car was at least a kilometre behind theirs and they'd
lost track of Mac and Peter's car a while ago.

"Yeah, ta," Angie replied from the driver's seat, removing
her hand from the wheel and extending an open palm to Stone.

"What colour?" He asked. She shrugged, laughing.

"I don't know, Stone. It's home brand party mix – they
all taste the same anyway!" He snickered in response, placing a
couple random jellies onto her palm.

"You're probably right!"

They both sat there chewing silently, each of their thoughts wandering.

"It must be weird, hey?" Angie's voice pondered out of the
blue. Oscar frowned.

"What must be?"

"Mac and Church. I mean, if I'm right about them being on
together in the past – and I'm pretty sure I am," She
clarified, pausing for a moment. "It'd be weird, wouldn't
it? Working so closely, pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend…"

"Mm, I guess so," He agreed vaguely.

"I wonder why they broke up?"

"Who knows? Coulda been work, coulda been other things," He
turned to her smirking. "They don't really seem very compatible,
do they?" Angie shrugged.

"They say opposites attract."

"Yeah, but that opposite? Come on, Mac's so straight and
professional and Church is so…not," Angie cocked her head to the
side amusedly.

"I don't know, Stoney. I think there's a lot more to Mac
than what we see at work," She said intuitively. Oscar raised his
eyebrows sceptically.

"You reckon? She must be pretty bloody good at hiding it!"

"Aren't we all good at hiding things? I mean, that's why
we're in this job, right?" Angie threw back, turning her head
briefly to the side to see him shrug exasperatedly.

"I guess so…" Angie sighed, rolling her eyes at his lack of
insight.

"Pass us another lolly, will you Stone?" She moved the
conversation along flatly; her tone dry.

*

"Woo, twin beds. These look like fun," Mac stated wryly as they
entered their hotel room. It wasn't really a hotel; more of a dingy
motor inn. Peter chuckled, flopping backwards onto the nearest single.

"Well, old Bernie did book the room. He wasn't about to stick us
in the honeymoon suite together with our colourful past!" Mac
smirked.

"I suppose not."

"Come on, the beds might be fun!" His voice was chirpy as he
patted the small amount of space beside him. Mac didn't budge from
her standing position, arms folded across her chest.

"Fun?" She repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, we could…I don't know, push them together or
something?" He suggested hopefully. They had barely spent a night
together all week; needless to say each of them had become a little
toey. Actually, toey was an understatement. Peter was craving her.

"No way," She replied flatly; no element of question in her
voice. She stepped over slowly, slapping his stomach playfully.
"Come on, get up. We've got bikies to meet, drugs to buy…"
Her singsong voice trailed off as she moved over to the door, Peter
grudgingly following her.

*

Mac nestled into Peter's shoulder, her painted fingers gently
tracing along his abdomen as they settled on the couch. After being such
a hit at the pub, they'd scored themselves an invite back to one of
the bikies' house for a party after the pub closed. There had been
no sign of the drugs at the Riverside Hotel, and they each desperately
hoped that Vin would come through at the party. The money in Mac's
handbag felt like it was burning a hole right through it.

The happy couple tried to act interested in the other bikies'
mindless drunken banter, Peter's eyes lighting up as Vin approached.

"Another drink?" He offered, three tinnies in his hands.

"Ta mate," They cracked open their drinks, taking a quick sip as
Vin made himself comfortable beside them.

"I reckon I've got something for you," He stated plainly to
Peter, his eyes travelling over to Mac and fixing themselves there.
"Meg, why don't you go show the boys again who really wears the
pants during darts?" He raised his voice at the end of the sentence,
rousing a keen response from the crew of rowdy bikies crowding around a
well worn dart board. Mac forced a smile, pecking Peter on the lips for
good measure before she stood.

"Leave your bag here, babe," Peter suggested; two reasons in
mind. Not only did the handbag contain the money for the buy, it also
had a small recording device sewn into the lining. It was still too
early for wires, so a recorder was the next best thing. Peter heard loud
cries coming from behind where they sat; he could only assume it was the
reaction to Mac joining in the dart game. Cool, radiant and sexy, Mac
had been a hit with the crew of Neanderthals; Peter had been right. He
turned his head in time to see Mac just miss the bullseye.

"You'd be a pretty lucky bloke I reckon," Vin commented
appreciatively, not removing his eyes from Mac and her newfound posse
for the moment.

"Yeah, I reckon I am," He turned back to Vin, waiting for him to
turn also. "You gonna take your eyes off my woman?" He pressed,
wanting to get the deal underway. "Where's this stuff you've
got for me?"

Vin reached into his jacket, tossing a small bag over into Peter's
lap.

"You got the money?"

Peter reached into Mac's bag, pulling out a wad of notes and handing
it to Vin.

"If this stuff turns out good, there's plenty more where that
came from," He said simply, standing and patting Vin on the
shoulder. "I'll be in touch."

He moved over to where Mac stood, surrounded by a sea of black leather,
unkempt beards, indoor sunglasses and the smell of dope. He grabbed her
arm.

"What?" She giggled, flirty and in character.

"We're outta here. Come on."

"Yeah, okay, okay," She rolled her eyes, moving over to stand
beside him. A solid bikie stepped in between them.

"Hey, if the lady doesn't want to leave, just piss right off
without her," He leered, wobbling on unsteady legs.

"Calm down, mate."

"Don't call me mate," He hissed, leaning in towards Peter.
Mac stepped in at that point, laying her hands flat against Peter's
chest.

"It's alright. We're leaving. See you next time, Joffa,"
She smiled flirtatiously, leading Peter out the front door with her.

"Well, they loved you," He stated as soon as they were out of
earshot. Mac grinned as she bumped his hip, teasing him.

"Jealous?" He chuckled, handing her back the bag which now
contained speed instead of cash.

The small house had been warm and stuffy with smoke and body heat,
causing both of them to perspire. The cold night air struck the beads of
sweat on their skin, relieving Peter's hot face but chilling
Mac's bare arms. He noticed the change in her stance, removing his
shirt and wrapping it around her. Her face screwed up.

"Oh, yuck! Peter, this is damp!" She whined and he laughed.

"Well it's better than nothing, isn't it?" He protested,
throwing an arm over her shoulder and pulling her to him as they made
their way over to the car. "Ungrateful!"

*

Mac tossed and turned in the small single bed that night, sleep never
finding her. Half an hour became an hour, and Mac grew more frustrated
with every wasted minute. She exhaled loudly, turning her head to look
at Peter. He was sleeping comfortably, lying on his back with one hand
tucked behind his head. She sighed, rolling over onto her side so that
her back was to him. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid the
thought of him asleep in the bed next to her from her mind.

Peter was unlike any other man she'd ever been with. He held her
strongly, but not roughly; he kissed her firmly, yet tenderly. He could
seem as if he was closed off and apathetic, but he had come to know Mac
better than anybody else ever had; both physically and emotionally. He
was exciting, and Mac found a strange sense of comfort in his
unpredictability that even she couldn't understand. In some ways,
Mac thought they couldn't be more different; in other lights, they
were a perfect fit. She rolled over again slowly, watching him sleeping
peacefully. As much as she'd always had difficulty articulating her
emotions, the sight of him seemed to make it much easier.

She peeled back her covers as she sat, swinging her legs to the side and
standing in the darkened room. It was a mild night, so she was only
wearing her knickers and a singlet. Mac knew he wasn't wearing
anything – she'd tried unsuccessfully to avoid watching him get
ready for bed. Mac crept over to Pete's small bed, crouching by its
side and tracing her fingers lightly along his cheek. She kissed his
mouth, slowly feeling him awaken slowly as he returned the kiss, lazily
at first. She began to dart her tongue in and out of his mouth
teasingly, her hands gently prying the covers open as he pulled her up
onto the bed without opening his eyes once. She settled herself on top
of him, one of her slender legs resting in between his. Their kisses
became more and more heated and their bodies rubbed together intimately.

"I thought you weren't a fan of single beds," Peter
commented breathlessly, his hands moving rhythmically along the path
from her waist down to her behind. She smiled against his lips, feeling
him as he grew more excited.

"I'll try everything once!" She replied cheekily, making
Pete chuckle.

"You just can't resist me, Ellen…" He mumbled, using her
name playfully whilst running a hand through her tousled hair.

"Guess not…"

She reached up, catching his hand in hers and drawing it under the
covers, trailing it along the dewy skin underneath her singlet. His hand
remained under her grasp as it found her breast, cradling it tenderly as
he kissed her. He pulled her top over her head and she moaned into his
mouth upon feeling the skin of her bare chest meet his. His fingertips
traced down the small of her back, settling at the band of her
underwear. Peter smiled inwardly as his hand rested on the plain fabric.
Mac was never one to try it on with flitty things like lacy lingerie.
She was simple, classy and confident in her appearance – things that
Pete found entirely sexier. He slid them off slowly as her hands found
him; a husky groan passing through his lips. Mac loved the effect she
had on him. She adjusted her position, moving to straddle his hips as
she leant over him. She moaned as she felt him begin to push himself
inside her.

Mac sat up, her back arching as they moved together in unison; each
becoming more vocal as their connection intensified. She pulsed
rhythmically against him, his hand firmly clasping her toned waist and
her breathing becoming shallower as the seconds passed. She felt herself
swell as his soft fingers played with her, groaning lightly and catching
Peter's eye as he too moaned with pleasure. He sat up and held her
to him firmly, intimately, tracing his lips along her collarbone. They
were both close. Mac tilted her head back; their intense, heated
breathing slowing with relief as they both came simultaneously.

"Mm," Peter hummed agreeably, pulling Mac to him as he lay down,
kissing her lips slowly, carefully, warmly. She slid down, relaxing as
she rested on top of his trembling body, each of them breathless and
content. Her head hovered above his and Peter smiled at the tickling
sensation she created as her fingers toyed with his dusting of chest
hair. She returned the smile as he lifted his chin, allowing her to kiss
his lips lightly. Mac sighed contently as his lips left hers, the words
escaping before she even had a chance to think about them.

"I love you," Her hushed whisper articulated.

Peter smiled, reaching up and guiding her head to his, kissing her cheek
tenderly before replying.

"I love you too."

Mac dragged her head to the side; her lips grazing his before he
deepened the kiss. She rested her head on his chest as he held her
proudly for moments. His hold on her strengthened upon feeling her shift
and his eyes pleaded her to stay.

"And if Bernie or the others drop by in the morning..?" She
questioned without him even saying a word to provoke her; her hands
fishing around between the sheets for her discarded underwear. His
urgent _expression relaxed as she smirked triumphantly. "Thought
so."

She pecked his lips gently before sliding off him and out of the tiny
bed. He sat up, watching her redress quickly as she moved over to her
own bed, crawling under the covers. She caught his eye in the dim night
light, smiling as her head found her pillow.

"Night, Ellen."

"Goodnight Peter."

Mac didn't have any more trouble falling asleep that night.

*

"Listen mate, I'm looking to up the order," Peter informed
Vin weeks later. He and Mac had made several visits up to Swann Reach,
buying petty amounts of speed off Vin and a couple other bikies. They
were getting sick of pussyfooting around with these guys – sick of
stilted orders of speed and sick of parties filled with drunken bikies
smoking joints to AC/DC. They wanted to get to their supplier.

"Ooh, I'll see what I can do…" Vin replied, scratching his
head. "It might be a bit of a stretch," Peter leaned in close.

"I've got people on my back. They like your stuff and they want
more," He said insistently. He and Vin had built up a bit of trust
over the past weeks and Peter hoped that he'd feel compelled to come
through for him now.

"Well I don't cook the bloody stuff up myself, ya know," Vin
huffed defensively, gulping from his stubbie. "Yeah, righto.
I'll see what I can do, alright?"

Peter smiled a gruff, grimaced smile.

"Good on ya," He glanced to the other side of the room. These
after-pub parties were always at the same dingy house and Mac and Peter
were booked into the same dingy motel afterwards. No wonder they thought
this town was a dump. At least they were learning to master the twin
beds.

He spotted her slumped against an interior wall, several filthy bikies
leaning in close. One of them groped at her waist while the others egged
him on eagerly. Peter didn't think she looked entirely alert, and he
could usually tell when she was acting from when she wasn't.

"Jeez, the boys can't get enough of her!" Vin laughed as
Peter stood, making his way over to the grotesque ensemble. He pushed
through the crowd, violently shoving anyone in his way. He ignored the
angry sneers directed at him as he propped Mac up on his shoulder and
began to lead her outside for some fresh air. "Ooh, had a bit much
to drink there, Meggie?" Vin laughed as they passed him on their way
out the door. "I'll let you know about the stuff, ey?" Peter
nodded.

"Yeah ta, mate," He turned to a giggly Mac. "Come on,
Meg."

He led her out to the brown corolla, fumbling in his pocket for his keys
and steadying Mac against the side of the car.

"You right there for a minute?" He asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him, tripping backwards slightly into the car.

"Yes…" She held the last consonant longer than required, her
eyes wandering. Pete unlocked the door, raising his eyebrows as he
opened it for her.

"Did you drink a bit tonight, Macca?" He teased, helping her
into the car. She exhaled heavily, slumping into the car seat as he
buckled her seatbelt for her.

"No…"

Peter smirked, slamming the door shut before she rolled out.

"Yeah, right," He muttered to himself, rounding the front of the
car and getting into the driver's seat. It was only a short drive to
the motel, maybe fifteen minutes away, but barely two minutes into the
trip Mac moaned in discomfort.

"Stop the car," She mumbled, reaching for the door. Pete turned
his head to her, slamming on the brakes as she vomited through the open
door with her seatbelt still on. He winced as he watched her, resting
his hand on her back as she retched. She pulled herself back in,
covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You right?" He asked as she nodded; her breathing slow, deep,
concentrated.

"Just keep driving."

*

They had to make two more stops before they reached the motel.

"Yeah Bernie, Mac's a bit crook…mm, we think one of the
bikies might've slipped her a mickey…nah, she'll be right,
she just needs to get it out of her system…alright, yeah I'll
let you know if anything changes…right, see you in the morning,"
Peter snapped his mobile shut, returning to the bathroom where Mac had
made herself at home on the floor. She leaned up against the toilet,
rubbing her face in her hands.

Peter set himself down behind her and handed her a glass of water.

"Here, rinse your mouth out," Mac smirked at the suggestion.

"Don't really see the point," She remarked, but doing so
anyway. He rubbed her back as she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Uhh, I feel like shit," She whined, leaning back into Peter.
"I don't even remember half the bloody party," She trailed
off, her vacant _expression changing as she spun around to face him.
"Oh god, did you do the deal with Vin?" She asked worriedly. He
smiled, nodding. "What about the order?"

"All in. Hopefully we'll get a lead on the supplier," He
replied, pinching her chin lightly. Her relieved _expression dropped
suddenly.

"Oh shit," She muttered, leaning over the toilet bowl again
hurriedly.

He cringed as he listened, scraping her hair back from her damp forehead
and rubbing her back. She finished up, leaning back again exhaustedly.

"You okay?"

She nodded, trying to swallow gracefully. Her eyelids drooped closed and
all the colour had drained from her face.

"For the minute," He smiled, softly pressing his lips to the
nape of her neck and pulling back her into him, his hands circling her
stomach gently. "Bloody bikies," was all she could say. He
chuckled, in turn rousing gentle laughter in her.

"Can't wait til we're rid of the pricks."

*

Mac was careful not to drink anything the next time the Swann Reach crew
gathered at the Riverside Hotel. She stayed close to Peter as they sat
at the bar, and he noted two familiar-looking men in the hotel. One was
notably slimmer, sporting a crisp black shirt tucked into his
high-waisted cream trousers with way too much product in his short dark
hair. True class, Peter smirked. The other was slightly taller and much
stockier, wearing torn denim and a faded black t-shirt; several rolls of
skin on display at the base of his neck due to his number two haircut.
The muscle, Peter decided. They didn't take their eyes off the
couple at the bar.

"Looks like you've got some more groupies," Peter whispered
in Mac's ear as the men began to approach them. Mac shoved him
playfully, glancing over to their looming friends and recognising them
instantly.

"You'd be Pete and Meg, wouldn't yous?" The thinner,
`better' dressed one asked; his voice low. Peter turned to face
him, keeping his own voice gruff and his _expression neutral.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm an associate of Vin's."

"I didn't think Vin had associates," Peter sneered, glancing
over at Mac who also looked as though she was sizing this guy up. The
muscle still didn't utter a word. His friend stepped forward,
hushing his voice even further. He needn't bother – the wires
they were each wearing picked up every syllable anyway.

"A guy like Vin can't handle an order like yours. Someone like
me can," His eyes skirted the public bar, darting out to the quiet
deserted tables in the far corner. "Lets' grab some drinks and
talk somewhere more private," He glanced from Peter, to his friend,
to Mac, and to Peter again. "Is the girl right to hear all
this?" He asked cautiously, lowering the volume of his voice even
further so that Mac could barely hear him. Peter nodded.

"Yeah, she's fine. I didn't catch your name, mate?"
Peter pressed, waiting moments for a quiet response.

"Leo," He lied coolly, gesturing over his shoulder. "And
this is Rick."

*

"You're kidding," Bernie stated incredulously, trying to
contain his smile. "Tony and Frankie Maher just walked up to you two
in a pub and offered to take over from the bikies and sell you that much
speed?"

"Yep," Peter replied proudly.

They couldn't believe their luck. These two brothers were well known
to police for being involved in the manufacture and traffic of illegal
substances, each with only a few minor drug offences to their names.
Somehow, they'd always managed to escape any major charges that
they'd been suspect in. And here they now were – walking
straight into an undercover operation off their own bat.

"Mm, I recognised them the minute I saw them. Peter was a bit slower
on the uptake!" Mac laughed, elbowing Peter in the arm.

"Oh, good one Church!" Angie piped up, joining Mac's
laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," He brushed them off. "Anyway, Tony – aka
Leo – has been supplying to Vin and the other bikies for a while,
but only in small quantities. When Vin tried to get more for my order,
he decided he didn't want Vin skimming off the top of such a big
deal-"

"And he wanted to stick his own greedy fingers into this pie?"
Oscar cut Peter off, finishing his sentence for him. Mac screwed up her
face and Angie cringed loudly at the insinuation, slapping Oscar on the
arm as Peter laughed. "What?" Oscar demanded, grinning and
spreading his arms.

"Alright, calm down. So we've got these guys on tape, yeah?"
Bernie tried to keep them all on track. Mac slid a small cassette across
the table towards him.

"Every word. Well, from Tony, anyway. Frankie doesn't have a lot
to say; he's just the muscle there for show," Mac concluded.

"Okay, when are you due up there next?" Bernie asked.

"We're meeting them again on Wednesday night at the pub and
they'll tell us the details for the deal then," Bernie raised
his eyebrows at Peter's answer.

"Can't they just call and tell you? Saves a lot of stuffing
around at our end."

"Tony's paranoid about using the phone. Reckons anybody could be
listening," Peter explained, shrugging before adding. "Besides,
they probably want to suss us out a bit more before the deal," Mac
chipped in next.

"The exchange is set to happen on Thursday as far as we know. Money
will need to be organised and transported separately since we'll be
up there for a few days at least."

"Yeah, Stone will be your money man. He'll transport the cash to
the deal."

"And Bernie, no need to book that crappy room at the Motor Inn
again. Tony was shocked and appalled at the idea of us staying in that
crap-hole. He reckons their cousin owns the best hotel in town, so
he's hooking us up with a room there this time," Peter chuckled,
glad to be rid of their dingy regular.

"Yeah, alright. We'll be camped at the usual lodge over the
other side of the creek. We'll hold the debriefing at 7:30 Thursday
morning after the location and time for the exchange have been worked
out. Push for these preferred spots," Bernie instructed, handing an
annotated map to Peter as everyone packed up to leave. They stopped what
they were doing when Bernie sighed loudly, frowning as his mind
wandered. "I don't get one thing," He began, waving his
pointed finger emphatically. "Tony and Frankie Maher didn't get
to where they are now by splashing out to people they don't know.
They're sneaky, secretive," He paused for a moment before
continuing. "Why the sudden trust?"

Peter's eyes slid over to meet Mac's. They had been sceptical
about the same thing, so Peter had asked him straight out.

"It's all on the tape," Mac offered as Pete piped up

"Vin and the others trust us, and they trust them," He answered
confidently. "And he reckons any friend of Vin's is a friend of
theirs."

"Alright, just play it carefully with these guys. Try to stay in
character at all times – you won't get any second chances if you
slip up. They may not look it, but Tony and Frankie Maher are smart
bastards. They have to be, getting away with all this for so long,"
Bernie warned knowingly. "So watch your backs."

*

"Hel-lo!" Peter smirked in a sing-song voice upon entering the
hotel room. He spread his arms wide, turning to a dubious Mac in the
doorway as he grinned. "A bit of a step up, yeah?"

Mac stepped forward, placing her hands on her hips as she kicked the
door shut behind her.

"I've see nicer décor…" She trailed off, eyeing the
timber veneer panelling and the Franco Cozzo furniture. Peter shrugged,
stepping close to her and wrapping a strong arm around her waist.

"But check out the big comfy double bed behind us," Mac peered
over his shoulder, eyeing the bed and shrugging as she draped her arms
loosely around his neck.

"Mm," She hummed in mock approval. She grinned as he pressed his
lips to hers, pulling her along with him as he fell backwards onto the
bed. Laughter spilled from their intimate embrace as they landed, Mac
rubbing her body against his as she settled on top of him. She propped
herself up above him, pressing her lips together, smiling. "And just
when the single beds were getting fun…"

She shrieked as Peter rolled them over suddenly, silencing her with his
own lips.

*

Peter wrapped an arm around Mac as they sat at a small table in the back
corner of the Riverside Hotel the following Wednesday night. His hand
settled on the small strip of skin between her jeans and singlet top;
his fingers running along it absently. She leant in close, resting her
head back into his comfortable shoulder and her hand on his denim-clad
thigh. They were each relishing the opportunity to cuddle up in public
and not have to worry about hiding their relationship. They were both
fitted with wires and recorders and dressed in their outfits that had
virtually become uniform when visiting the sleepy town.

Mac lifted her head so that her lips grazed Peter's stubbled chin
and squeezed his thigh upon seeing two familiar siblings enter the pub.

"They're here," She hummed quietly, her voice soft and low.
Peter nodded, spotting them also. Their faces were so close together
that the slow movement caused his whiskers to brush her cheek, and Mac
had to suppress a delicate smile.

"Pete, Meg, how are we?" Tony greeted. His voice was sickly
sweet and he had a saccharine smile planted on his face to match.

"Here mate, pull up a pew," Peter offered, neither he nor Mac
breaking their comfortable embrace. They were milking this `couple
time' for all it was worth. Tony took a seat, his face twitching
with eager conversation and a silent Frankie followed suit.

"How was the trip up here?" The considerably chattier Maher
asked. Mac glanced up at Peter, each of them shrugging.

"Long," Mac replied, a half smile creeping across her lips.

"Ah, that's right. Yous are from Melbourne, right?" Peter
nodded in affirmation.

"Yep. You blokes ever been there?" He asked, staring pointedly
at Frankie, seeking verbal acknowledgement. He grunted, not taking his
intimidating eyes off Peter, but not opening his mouth either. The Maher
brothers shared the same monobrow, nose and steely dark eyes, but
that's about where the similarities ended. Tony had a much scrawnier
build and considered himself to be the more personable, stylish partner
– the business man. Frankie, on the other hand, was a beefy guy who
didn't look out of place in leathers and chains. He was the partner
you wouldn't want to run into in a dark alley, especially if you
owed them money – he was standover man.

"Oh yeah, once or twice," Tony lied. Peter and Mac knew much
better than that with only one glance at their police files.

"Hmm, great place Melbourne is. But you can't beat country air,
can ya?" Peter's purposely charming voice gushed. Mac
couldn't work out whether he was trying to appear sarcastic or not
– she certainly knew which one he was on the inside.

"No way, Pete. So, you are yous settling into the hotel?" Tony
dragged the small talk along, an almost unnoticeable glint in his eye.

"Yeah, great mate. Much better than that shit heap we were staying
in before, hey Megs?" Peter's arm tightened around Mac. She
smiled flirtatiously.

"Mm, thanks for hooking us up, boys."

"Well, old Nicky definitely comes through for you. Just ask him if
there's anything else you need," Tony replied, his eyes still
twinkling with unrealised humour. Frankie's too for that matter. Mac
felt like she was intruding on some private joke.

Silence loomed around the small, stained wooden table, Tony's eyes
darting from Frankie, to Peter, to Mac, and then to the boys again.
Peter decided to take the initiative and move things along.

"About tomorrow, Leo," He began, almost having to bite his
tongue to stop himself from calling him Tony. Dark eyes flashed up to
him in warning and for a moment Peter thought he had called him by the
wrong name. Panic waned as he caught where both his and Frankie's
cautionary gazes had settled: on Mac. The Mahers clearly weren't
comfortable doing business with a woman present. Peter made an executive
decision that he knew he would probably live to regret, reaching into
his wallet and pulling out a twenty, handing it to Mac. "Get us some
drinks, will you Megs?"

Mac's piercing blue eyes flashed up to him in surprise. They
narrowed inconspicuously as she realised what he was doing, a sulky tone
that only Peter recognised occupying her voice.

"Sure," She replied, cheerfulness overcompensating for her
sourness at her exclusion. As she left, Tony leant across the table,
exhaling lightly.

"Call me old fashioned, but we're just not that comfortable
doing business in front of the lady, you know?" He explained. Peter
shrugged.

"Meg's cool with what's going on," He stated simply.

"If we could, we'd prefer to keep her out of it," Peter
shrugged noncommittally again, not saying a word. Tony took it upon
himself to continue, his voice significantly lower this time. "Okay,
we'll have the gear set for tomorrow. You know the Flat Gulley
River, Pete?" He asked.

"I know the reserve, yeah," Peter replied. The reserve by the
Flat Gulley River was the number one location for the exchange from a
surveillance and bust point of view according to Bernie and Mac. It
would make their job significantly easier if the deal could be done
there.

"The picnic area?"

"Yeah, driven past it a couple times on the way to town," Peter
confirmed, narrowing his eyes. "Why? Is that the spot?" Tony
nodded. "Bit open isn't it?" Tony shook his head firmly.

"Nah, no one drives along that road in the middle of the day.
Besides, there's a few trees, good cover," Peter almost smirked.
`Yep – plenty of trees filled with plenty of police snipers.
Perfect cover for us; not so much for you guys,' he thought to
himself. He shrugged as if he didn't give a toss.

"You know the area better than me. It's probably treated you
pretty well in the past, hey? The reserve?" Peter pried subtly. Tony
grinned proudly.

"You might say that," They spotted Mac approaching the table, a
tray of pots in her hands. She'd taken her time purposely. "So,
three o'clock tomorrow at the reserve. Should give you enough time
to make it back to Melbourne with some daylight to spare," Peter
nodded in agreement.

"Sounds good mate," Tony grinned like a schoolgirl, glancing up
appreciatively at Mac as she set his beer down in front of him.

"Ah, perfect timing Meg."

*

"`Get the drinks'?" Mac repeated, hissing to Peter as they
removed their wires in the car. He grinned, pinching her cheek.

"Thought you'd like that, sweetcakes," He teased as she
reached up and slapped away his patronising hand. "What? They
weren't going to talk about the deal while you were there!" Mac
shook her head and turned to look out the window so that he wouldn't
see the small smile playing on her lips.

"You're gonna pay for that, Peter…" She warned in a
sing-song voice. Peter started up the car, muttering to himself as he
smiled.

"Oh, I hope so!"

*

Mac awoke in the middle of the night; her throat dry and her hair damp.
Summer was approaching sooner than she had realised and the air of the
small, dark room was hot and muggy. They'd done away with the thin
doona the hotel bed had offered, electing to make use only of the sheet
that had also been kicked to the floor long ago. She disentangled
herself from Peter's sticky arms, rolling over onto the refreshingly
cool, unslept-in corner of the bed and pulling her dark hair off the
back of her sweaty neck. She recalled with relief seeing Peter put a
bottle of water in the small bar fridge in the corner of the room
earlier in the day, sliding off the bed and padding across the carpeted
floor to retrieve it. She skulled most of the water without taking a
breath; the only sounds filling the room were the buckling of the thin
plastic bottle and Peter's light snoring. She refilled the bottle at
the small bathroom sink, replacing it in the fridge. As she leaned back
up, Mac spotted something small and dark stuck to the shelving
surrounding the bar fridge. She opened the door again slightly,
providing just enough light to recognise what had the Maher brothers
must have tacked onto the wood.

A bug.

Mac held a hand to her mouth, attempting to contain her panic and
desperately trying to recall all that had been said in this room. They
could have blown their covers so easily! Mac's stomach sunk at the
realisation that if a listening device had been planted by the brothers,
there could just as easily be a camera fitted somewhere also. No wonder
they had insisted that she and Pete stay in their cousin's hotel!
Mac felt so stupid, so duped.

She closed the bar fridge and sauntered modestly back over to the bed,
pulling the sheet over her naked body this time as she lay down. Bugger
the heat, she thought. She wanted more than anything to wake up Peter
and tell him, but didn't want to get caught out as knowing about the
bug or the camera, just in case anybody was listening or watching for
that matter. Unlikely at this hour, but possible all the same. She
draped the sheet over Peter's waist also, curling up to him beneath
it and trying to remember if they had said anything incriminating.
Luckily they'd been otherwise engaged for the most part of the
night…luckily?? She questioned her thoughts. How lucky were they if
somebody had been listening, watching as they…Mac squeezed her eyes
shut, trying to rid the thought from her mind. She buried her head into
Pete's chest, willing him to wake up but not sure what she could
possibly do or say even if he did.

*

Mac lay in bed worrying for at least two whole hours, unable to do a
single thing.

Daylight began to break through around six-thirty and Mac seized this
opportunity, shaking Peter gently until he awoke. He groaned as sharp
fingernails prodded at his chest beneath the thin white sheet, catching
them with his own.

"What time is it?" He yawned, reaching for Mac's waist.

"Almost six thirty," She hummed into his ear, reluctantly
allowing herself to be pulled half on top of him.

"You're kidding," His voice huffed flatly. He'd never
been a morning person. Mac sighed, pushing through her anxiety and
acting the part for her probable audience.

"Hey, you know what I think?" She began, crawling in closer to
him.

"Nup," Was his stark reply. Mac rolled her eyes lightly.

"I think we should go for a walk this morning. Look how gorgeous it
is outside!" She rolled off him, allowing him the space to look out
the brightened windows. He didn't reply; nor did he open his eyes.
"Peter," She flat lined. He still didn't flinch at her tone.
Mac opted straight for plan B, her fingers wandering beneath the sheet
at prodding him in an area sensitive enough to awaken any man from any
sleep.

His eyes flew open immediately.

"Jesus, Ma-" He cried out. She pressed her lips to his, cutting
him off as he spoke her name. Not a wise move when there's a bug.
"What the hell are you doing?"

"Come on," She insisted, wondering why on earth he hadn't
cottoned on to her tone yet. He rubbed his eyes, sitting up. Mac
followed, holding the sheet to her chest as she did so.

"But we've got to meet Bernie at seven thirty," He whined
unwittingly as she cringed inwardly.

"Plenty of time. Now get up and get dressed."

"Can't we have some breakfast first?"

"We can get some on the way."

*

"Alright, what the hell is wrong with you today?" Peter
complained as soon as they set foot on the pavement outside the hotel.
Mac had ushered him out of their room so quickly he'd forgotten to
put socks on underneath his shoes and if she was serious about all this
walking, he was going to be one hell of a whinger once the blisters
started up.

"Walk," She instructed, moving quickly and not waiting for him
to catch up. He groaned, jogging lightly after her and grabbing her arm.
They walked in silence until they were about 100m away from the hotel;
Mac's eyes darting behind her every now and then to check if anyone
was following. Satisfied that nobody was around to hear them, she
informed Peter of the new facts she had gleaned. "Our room's
bugged."

"Our room's what? How do you know?" He demanded, struggling
to keep up with her pace. "Mac!" He stopped, spinning her back
to face him.

"I found it last night. It's on the shelf above the bar fridge.
It looked like it was old equipment, but it'd work just the
same," She paused, refusing to meet his shocked eyes. "My guess
is the pricks have a camera in there too," She added dismally.

"Shit! You think it was the Mahers?"

"Who else? It's their cousin's hotel, they probably fitted
the room out specially," She spun on her heel, continuing to walk.
Peter followed, the forming blisters on his sweaty feet the last thing
on his mind now.

"Shit," He said again. "Jesus, what did we say yesterday?
Anything about the case?" Mac shook her head pensively.

"No, I don't think so. We were pretty busy," She said,
grimacing. Peter scratched his head.

"Ah, shit," It was all he could say. He then shrugged, trying to
lighten the mood. "Well, at least we would have looked like a
convincing couple to the Mahers."

Mac scoffed.

"Yeah, at least," She repeated scornfully. She sighed, burying
her head in her hands. "Shit, Peter. Two separate occasions
yesterday we…" She winced, turning her head to the side as he held
her arm supportively. "It was hot, we weren't even under the
covers…they would have seen…everything…" She trailed off as
he pulled her to him.

"Hey, we're just assuming there's a camera in there. There
might not be."

"Yeah, well they would have heard everything at the very least. Oh
god," She pulled away from his shoulder, looking him in the eye with
a look of realisation. "That's why they were being so smug at
the pub yesterday. You know, `settling into the room' and all
that. They knew, they'd already heard-" Mac stopped herself, not
feeling the need to finish. Peter shook his head angrily at their cruel
invasion of privacy.

"Smartarse pricks."

They walked in silence for moments before Mac spoke again, wincing as
she did so.

"We're going to have to tell Bernie about all of this,"
Peter's eyes flashed up at hers.

"Shit, Mac. You're not serious."

"About the bug at least. It's not looking good, Pete – you
mentioned his name this morning!"

"And what about the other stuff?" He asked, almost afraid to
hear her response.

"I don't know, Peter. There's a pretty high risk of them
exposing us, don't you think? Should we get in first, come clean
before it all explodes in our faces?" She asked, not wanting to make
the decision herself. Peter was quiet for a moment as he thought.

"I don't know, Mac. Second offence; old Bernie won't go
lightly," He reached for her hand, catching her clear blue eyes with
his. "I think it's worth the risk, don't you?"

Mac smiled for the first time in hours.

"Okay, the time is seven o'clock. Briefing starts in half an
hour," She stated after glancing at her watch.

"Ah, shit. We should start heading back to the car," Mac scoffed
at the suggestion, shaking her head viciously.

"No way! They probably whacked a bug and a tracking device on the
car yesterday while we were waiting for them at the pub. No, we are
definitely power-walking!" Peter shook his head lightly, humming to
himself.

"Paranoid…" Mac glared at him in mock frustration, squeezing
his hand as she spoke wryly.

"Oh, the things you think of when you're hot and stressed at
five am…"

*

"A bug?" Bernie repeated flatly. Mac nodded grimly in response.
"Jesus."

"At least we know it's there now," Mac said hopefully,
searching blindly for a silver lining.

"Have you stayed in character? Name slips ups, anything..?" He
asked, concerned. Mac shrugged, looking sideways at Peter.

"Well, Peter's Peter for this one, so that's pretty
lucky," Oscar contributed.

"And Meg-Mac, they're pretty similar," Angie added
optimistically. "Hopefully they won't have heard the difference
if you called her by name. I mean, it's not like you call her Ellen
or anything," Mac and Peter each contained their smirks, knowing
that wasn't always entirely true.

"Hm, we can't think of any others. Neither of us thinks we
discussed the case in the room or in the car. Peter did mention meeting
Bernie this morning though." Mac watched as Bernie's forehead
creased in concentration.

"What did you say exactly?"

"Just that we had to meet Bernie at seven thirty," Peter replied
and Bernie nodded.

"Anyone tail you here?" Mac shook her head in reply to him.

"No. We were very careful about that."

Every operative in the room paused, lost in thought until Angie's
face lit up.

"You said they didn't like dealing with women, yeah? With
Mac?" She asked, her face cracking a lone smile.

"Yeah..?" Mac replied, intrigued.

"I've got an idea."

*

Stone tapped the steering wheel, watching as Peter fiddled with his wire
beside him.

"She's a thinker, our Ange," Peter chuckled lightly under
his breath at Stone's obvious revelation.

"She sure is."

For the purposes of the deal, Oscar had become Bernie the money man.
They had a fresh, bug-free car with a suitcase of cash in it as planned
and had managed to cover their little name slip up all in one hit. Peter
and Mac were also relieved about Oscar being introduced as Mac's
brother – something which would hopefully prevent the Maher brothers
from bringing up the previous afternoon and night's festivities,
mainly for fear of being thumped by the six foot tall brother. Mac
wouldn't be attending – well, not in their car anyway. She was
going to be in the surveillance van, watching from a distance. Hopefully
the lack of oestrogen in the reserve would put the Maher brothers at
ease, too.

"So, you and Mac have had to be a bit chummy during this gig,
hey?" Peter's eyes narrowed, skirting to the side to where Stone
was driving.

"Yeah, we hammed it up a bit for the bikies," Peter said maybe a
little too defensively. "What's your point, mate?" Oscar
raised his hands from the wheel momentarily.

"Hey, I'm just saying!"

"Yeah, saying what?"

"Well, it must be you know, a bit strange and stuff…"

"Why?"

"After you know, you and Mac…" Peter frowned, not flicking on
his wire just yet.

"After me and Mac what?"

"Well, you two were together, right? You were screwing her,"
Oscar stated more so than asked. Peter almost did a double take.

"What are you, wired already? Is Angie listening on the other
end?" Stone chuckled.

"Nah, mate! Not yet," He grinned, glancing over at Peter,
triumphant. "So it's true then? I mean, it was pretty obvious
anyway!"

"I'm not talking about this with you," Peter said flatly,
his gaze fixing itself out the window.

"Yeah right. How long for?"

"What, each time?" Peter smirked at Oscar, knowing that he'd
make him uncomfortable. He was right.

"Ha ha. Nah seriously, what happened there? Why'd it end?"
Oscar pressed as Peter shook his head determinedly.

"None of your business, Stoney."

"Bernie found out, didn't he?" Peter didn't answer,
which Oscar took to be a definite yes. "I'm just saying,
it's good that you two are still mates. That you can still do stings
like this and it's not…awkward and weird and stuff," Peter
glared at him. "What? I said it's a good thing! That you can
just get on with life, put all that behind you."

"Why? You got big plans for you and Angie, have ya?" Peter
teased, his eyes narrowing again, this time in mock intimidation. Oscar
chuckled.

"Piss off, will ya!"

"Yeah, not so fun when the shoe's on the other foot, is it
mate?"

*

The buy-bust went down without a hitch. Peter and Oscar were arrested
along with the Maher brothers, who would regret walking willingly into a
police operation for the rest of their lives. Warrants were issued for
Vin and the other bikies involved in the buys, evidence bags clearly
exhibiting their on-record fingerprints as well as many transcribed
tapes carefully locked away and awaiting trial.

In a strange twist of fate, "Leo and Rick", otherwise known as
Tony and Frankie Maher, had a long drawn backup plan in case they were
caught. The unit heard word of their residences and speed lab, complete
with all their belongings, being blown up in several mysterious bomb
blasts upon returning to Melbourne that evening. Unfortunately for the
brothers Maher, the police force already had more than they needed to
charge them, including several kilograms of speed and cannabis complete
with incriminating fingerprints, taped recordings of every meeting they
had with "Meg and Pete" and testimony from the bikie dogs who
rolled over straight away and revealed they had been their main
suppliers for years. Not to mention the sworn testimony of two
unidentified covert police operatives.

Fortunately for Mac and Peter, whatever taped recordings they may have
had from their time spent in the hotel were totally destroyed in the
blasts. They were also able to charge Nick Maher with making illegal
sound recordings in his hotel. As it turned out, there had been a camera
installed but the Mahers had forgotten to switch the thing on. They
weren't as smart as everyone had given them credit for.

Not a half-bad day in the life of a copper…

*

Mac lay awake in Peter's arms that night, comfortable and warm in
the safety of his home. He twisted her hair absently between his fingers
and she smiled at the light tingling sensation.

"You'll never guess what bloody Stone was asking me in the car
today," He said out of the blue. Mac smirked, nestling further into
her pocket under his arm.

"Probably the same as what Angie was asking me in the communication
van."

"If we were together…" Peter began, looking down incredulously
at Mac as she continued, voicing his very thoughts.

"…how long we were together, why we broke up…" She tilted her
head back, meeting his gaze and grinning, knowing she was right. He
shook his head.

"Those sneaky buggers! They're probably comparing notes right
now."

Mac propped herself up on her side, sliding one leg in between his and
laying her arm across his chest. Her index finger traced around his
defined pectoral and she rested her chin on his chest.

"And how great it is that we could still work so well together
regardless of everything we've been though…" She continued
animatedly, her smile never leaving her face. She felt his hands cradle
her slim waist and laughed as he pulled her up so that she lay directly
on top of him. "Well that's as far as she got until Bernie came
in!"

Peter pressed his lips to hers, silencing her for moments. He wrapped
his strong arms around to help her balance and slowed the pace of her
eager kisses, teasing her. She pulled away, pressing gentle, playful
kisses along his jaw.

"Well, I for one think we work so well because of everything
we've been through," Peter stated after assessing his thoughts.
He'd thought so for quite some time. Mac pulled her head up, biting
her lip lightly before leaning in and kissing him tenderly.

"I'll definitely second that," She whispered against his
lips as they rolled to the side, their foreheads tilting in together as
each of them stole intermittent kisses from the other.

"And I loved how everything was past tense. At first I thought they
were trying to suss us out now, but they were just gleaning information
on the last time," Peter grinned as he spoke, turning further so
that he lay partially on top of Mac now. "They really have no
idea!" He laughed as their fingers entwined above her head.

Mac smiled, loving the feeling of his bare skin on top of hers, loving
the taste of him on her lips and loving that he loved it too. Most of
all she loved that she could use that word to describe how she felt
– loved. She loved him. Really loved him.

"Mm, we're getting good at discretion…" Her piercing eyes
flicked up to meet his clear blue ones. "Older and wiser, hey?"
She mumbled, her slender fingers gently stroking his shoulder.

"Mm," He agreed, leaning up to catch her lips hungrily in his.
"Second time lucky."

Mac smiled contently beneath his mouth.

"Sure are."
~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

Slowly back in time

~

*