"Jonathan Creek" and characters beloved creations of David Renwick, copyright David Renwick.

Trickery
by elfin

'There may not be a devil, but there's devilry all right.'
- from "Inspector Morse".

In utter despair, Jonathan folded his arms across the back of the seat in front of him and dropped his forehead onto his hands.
"If you do that with a live rabbit, Adam, we'll have the animal rights people on our backs in seconds."
On stage, Adam Klaus - illusionist extraordinaire - threw the plush bunny rabbit to the boards and sat down on the edge of the table. He scowled, kicking out at the small collection of cuddly animals that littered the floor beneath his feet. "Why won't it work?"
Jonathan lifted his head. "It does work, I've shown you a hundred times."

"Trouble with the staff?"
He looked up at Maddy as she took the seat next to him. Rolling his eyes he nodded. "Simple trick. Black rabbit goes into a hat, white one comes out. An easy slight-of-hand, but can he do it?" He rose his voice. "Do you want to give it up, Adam?"
"No." Standing up, grabbing one black and one white cuddly rabbit from the stage, Adam tried yet again.

*

They sat opposite one another in the pub next door to the theatre. It always fascinated Jonathan to listen to Maddy order 'a light snack'. His own eating habits weren't exactly usual. Adam always had breakfast brought in to the theatre when they were working, if he was at home he tended to settle for a cup of tea and sometimes Whetabix. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten lunch at home, and tea depended on where he was and often whatever he could be bothered to make. Maddy, on the other hand, seemed to eat none stop from morning to evening. Even sometimes, he knew, through the night.

His smile across at her was one of undisguised affection. "So, to what do I owe this lunch? And where have you been for the last two days? I've called you...."
"I know, sorry about that. I haven't deliberately been avoiding you. It's just... something came up." She touched his hand. "Thought I'd let you off this time."

The waitress took his order of Stuffed Peppers with Wild Rice, and hers of Spaghetti Bolognaise with two rounds of garlic bread and two rounds of cheese bread.
"What came up?" He asked the question so innocently, and it took her a moment to catch on.
"Ahh, are you feeling left out?"
He was on the defensive immediately. "No. Not at all. If you don't need my help...."
"Jonathan! Your talents would have been wasted, believe me. You've been busy anyway, with the new show? A little bird told me you'd had some trouble."
He nodded. "Adam's libido'll be the death of us, I swear. Another assistant left because he'd dumped her, and she went to the papers..... I gather by your expression that you saw it." She confirmed that she had. "Thing is, her whole family work in the business. Her parents do this stunning knife-throwing act - The Sharp Santinos - in a globe-trotting circus that entertains the royal family or something." He shook his head. "It's taken days to replace her. And I've had Adam promise on his life that he'll keep his hands off the new girl."
"You should start using male assistants," Maddy suggested. She chuckled at Jonathan's reaction - like she'd proposed that they have sex on stage to entertain the audience.
"I know I've been at that theatre from dawn to midnight for the last few days." He knew he couldn't have coped with another perplexing mystery to solve for her. "Still..."
"You haven't missed out on anything." Deliberately, she folded her arms on the table top, leaning closer to him, smiling as he did the same.

For a moment, his nearness distracted her somewhat, drew her immediate attention to his mouth, to the faint scent of after-shave, to the tangled hair she would love to play with and the delicate skin of the neck she would love to kiss if only he was the least bit accessible to her....

"Stop undressing me with your eyes and tell me what you've been up to...."
She started at the good-humoured suggestion. "Sorry. Yes. Right." Tearing her gaze from his face, she started to explain about the wrongly arrested actor who'd sworn that he hadn't been in the same place as a colleague, with whom he worked on a popular soap opera, when said colleague had overdosed on some unspecified narcotic. "Dull stuff, I'm afraid, for you anyway."
"And for you?"
She smiled shyly. "I was once a... fan of said certain popular soap opera....."

*

"Tada!"
As he stepped back into the auditorium, Jonathan was greeted by his employer waving a black rabbit in the air. From where he stood, he couldn't be sure it was a stuffed one.
"Adam... it's... supposed to be the white one you pull out....." He ducked quickly as the cuddly toy was launched at him.

***

The show went without a hitch. It was only the second live show of Adam's that Maddy had seen, and she found herself enjoying it despite knowing how most of the stunning illusions were worked. In the bar during the interval, she met a very nice man who had read all her books, and he took the empty seat next to her for the second half.

Adam bounded into his dressing room after the show on an adrenaline high, ears still buzzing with the applause of the audience. He found Jonathan waiting for him, apparently deep in thought.
"Jonathan! That was stunning, wasn't it? It even felt perfect." He paused to pick the false skin from around his throat and wrists, removing the now empty blood bags. "And Furnace went down so well! You're a genius, Jonathan, an absolute genius." Yet the other didn't seem to be listening to this rare praise. "Jonathan?"
He looked up. "Sorry. Yes, it was great. You were great."

Adam sighed, picking up the champagne bottle that would invariably be waiting for him after each show, sometimes with a note attached from the girl behind the bar upstairs. He popped the cork and poured two glasses, handing one to Jonathan. "Do I have to guess?"
"She was chatting up the guy in the seat next to her."
For Adam, Jonathan's love-life had become a hobby. Having tried to set him up with everyone from the make-up girl to the theatre manager, he was convinced now that he had to sort this mess out between he and Maddy.
"You know, Jonathan, I do find that if women aren't actually sleeping with you, they don't tend to exhibit any kind of commitment, they only expect it." Jonathan rolled his eyes, but Adam wouldn't be put off. "Your problem is, for some inexplicable reason you're looking for a monogamous relationship without the sex."
"Adam, you don't know what the hell you're talking about."
But Adam was into his stride now. He sat down, pulling his chair up close, champagne bottle in one hand, glass in the other. There was a madness in his eyes that Jonathan was starting to find disturbing. "Go and meet your adoring public, Adam," he warned gently.
"Jonathan, listen to me. I'm your sounding board. I'm normality for you."
"What?"
"Before you met her, what was your life?"
"Peaceful." He shook his head. "Adam...."
But the champagne was going to his head. "Your whole life revolved around travelling between your place in the country and the theatre. Pubbing, clubbing, dining out, the occasional passionate encounter. A happy life, no worries. And then someone comes along and quickly turns your life upside-down. On top of all the odd mysteries you're solving, all the weird and wonderful things you're seeing and hearing, there's a sexual tension between the two of you that's all but put paid to your sex life."

In retrospect, Jonathan thought he might have been a little hard on his employer. But at the time, being psycho-analysed by a stage illusionist was too much for him to bare. He pushed his chair back, slamming the crystal champagne flute down hard enough on the dressing table to crack the base.
"What makes you think you're qualified to judge my life?! And how can you possibly say that you bring any kind of normality to it?"
Taken aback, Adam stood, still clutching the bottle and his own glass. "Jonathan, look...."
"No! You look. I can sort out my own problems without your presumed help, okay?" He looked up, and the stricken expression on Adam's face was enough to quieten him, at least for now. "I'm sorry." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "I know, you're only trying to help. I didn't mean to get mad."
Adam stared at him. "That was you getting mad?" He glanced down at the broken base of the glass, wondering why it hadn't shattered.
"I'm just... I'm sick of being used." Pursing his lips, he looked apologetically at Adam. "Go and enjoy your champagne with everyone else. I'll see you here in the morning. There are one or two tweaks I'd like to do to Furnace, get it perfect for tomorrow night."

As he opened the door, he felt Adam's hand on his shoulder. "I do appreciate... all your work..."
Jonathan smiled, and nodded. "I know, Adam." He knew how hard it was for his employer to say that kind of thing. "Don't worry about it. I wasn't referring to you."

*

Hand wrapped around a large mug of fresh hot chocolate, Jonathan flung open the door and stepped out on to the balcony. Buried so deep in the countryside, the only sounds were those of wildlife. The night air was cool, the darkness enveloping. Only the full moon illuminated the fields and woodland beyond. Sighing to himself, he leaned against the railing, letting his mind wonder as his gaze moved across the star-filled sky.

A quiet rustling somewhere in the distance drew his attention, yet for a while he could see nothing moving. Only when he turned to go back inside did something catch his eye; a glint of moonlight off a shiny surface, deep in the field in front of the windmill. Frowning, never having known any strangers to come out here this late, he stepped back up to the railing, straining to see in the eerie darkness.

Seconds later the terrible sound of a high-pitched shriek peeled out over the countryside. And then he saw a figure start out of the darkness toward the windmill, running, and laughing. The uneven laugh of a madman. Jonathan found himself rooted, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch the figure's approach with staring eyes. A hundred yards from the base of the windmill, the figure stopped. Despite himself, Jonathan felt a shiver race down his spine, felt himself being watched. And then another glint in the moonlight, and this time he knew what it was.

The next thing he was aware of was a knife blade embedding itself into his left shoulder, and the flooding, white-hot pain blurring his vision. Maybe if it hadn't he would have seen something slightly odd happen to the man who'd flung the knife so accurately up at him. But it had, and he didn't. Instead, he took two steps backwards, dropping his mug to the wooden boards of the balcony.

His aversion to blood only worsened when it was his own, and luckily he didn't have far to stagger before he came up against the hard reality of the mill wall and he slid down it in a fashion that might have looked funny if anyone had been around to see it.

For a time he sat there, his arm going slowly numb, blood soaking through his shirt. He knew he had to do something or else he'd die of blood loss. But he was thinking through a fog of surprise, shock and increasing pain. He still couldn't believe what was happening.

With some effort he lifted his right hand, noted with frightening detachment that it was dancing in front of his face, and dug unresponsive fingers into his jeans pocket. It could have taken forever as far as he was concerned. By the time he had his mobile to his ear, Maddy's number being called, he had all but blacked out.

Woken by the infernal ringing of her unrepentant telephone, Maddy reached her arm out from under the duvet and grabbed the handset, pulling it into bed with her.
"Whoever this is, it had better be a matter of life or death."
There was a long pause before she heard, "I think it is."
She was awake in a moment. "Jonathan?"
"Could..." his voice faded for a moment, and she thought she heard him coughing. "Could you come over?"
"Jonathan, what's wrong? Are you all right?"
"Please, just come over."
His tone was shaky and starting to frighten her. As she clambered out of bed, she held the phone between her shoulder and chin, hunting for the light switch before locating some clothes. "Tell me what's wrong."

He knew he was starting to lose consciousness, and he felt a strange kind of peace envelop him. "Please."
He could hear her speaking to him, but she sounded so far away now. He wasn't even sure why she'd rung....

Maddy dressed faster than she could ever doing so at any time in her life. All the time she kept the handset close to her, talking into it, shouting his name when he stopped answering her. Finally she hung up, a moment before she grabbed her car keys and slammed the front door shut behind her.

She reckoned she knew every gear change, traffic light and speed camera between her place and the windmill. Turning the Volvo on to the A24, she picked up her mobile from the passenger seat and called Jonathan's number. It rang out. She tried his mobile then, praying silently that he'd ended the call at his end. It rang, but she had to call the number five times before it was answered.
"...."
"Jonathan? I'm on my way. Come on now, talk to me. Are you all right"
A pause and then, "no, no I'm not. You woke me....." He sounded totally out of it.
Despite her racing heart and the rapidly growing concern turning her stomach, she found herself sounding impossibly calm, thinking so very clearly. "Jonathan! Stay with me now. Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?"
Now only twenty miles away, half lying on the windmill's balcony, half leaning against the white boards of the building, Jonathan's eyes closed once more, the mobile slipping from his hand.

"Come on, Jonathan," she forced the humour into her voice, desperate to keep him awake, sure now that there was something terribly wrong. "Don't go all quiet on me now. I've never known you have nothing to say to me." But there was nothing but silence from the other end. "Jonathan?!" Even her deafening shout didn't wake him this time.

Bringing the car to an abrupt halt, Maddy tried the door and unable to open it from the outside, she threw her body weight against it. It didn't stand a chance. She looked quickly around the ground floor kitchen before heading up the wooden steps through the bedroom to the balcony level. The door was open to the outside, and she stepped out through it, seeing him collapsed there, mobile by his side, short-bladed knife protruding from his shoulder.

In the moonlight she could see the dark blood stain on his shirt.
"Shit! God, Jonathan...." She knelt, touching his forehead. "Jonathan, you still with me?" No reply, and she ran back inside, back downstairs to grab the First Aid kit she knew he kept in the kitchen. Returning to him, she waded up a sterile bandage and set her eyes on the knife in his shoulder. He hadn't answered her question. "Jonathan. Come on, stay with me."
Only when she wrapped a hand around the handle of the knife and in one swift movement pulled it smoothly out of him, did he acknowledge her. He gave a yell of blazing agony, eyes opening wide to stare at her in pain and some confusion. She pressed the wadded pad to the wound, smiling at him in what she prayed was a reassuring way. Taking his good hand in hers, struck by the chill of his skin, she moved it to hold the pad in place. "Can you just hold that in place for me? A couple of minutes and I'll get you to a hospital."

She let go of his hand, and watched in horror as it shook violently with the gentle pressure needed to hold the pad. As quickly as possible she bandaged his shoulder, allowing him soon to drop his hand back into his lap. Once the wound was temporarily dressed, she wrapped her arm around him.
"Come on then, let's get you to hospital, okay?"
He nodded, at least proving to her that he was aware of what was happening; a good sign as far as she knew. He helped her then, somehow finding his balance and getting to his feet. He leant heavily against her as she closed and locked the balcony door and with some considerable effort got him downstairs and out into the car.

*

Outside, along the horizon, the sun was starting to rise. Maddy sat for a while on the edge of Jonathan's bed, watching him as he slept.

At the hospital, they'd been told that there had been a serious car accident just outside Horsham and the A&E doctors were extremely busy. Maddy made as much noise as she dared, but she could see the ambulances arriving and she had too much respect for the night staff to make too much of a fuss. However, as they turned to sit down, Jonathan collapsed, hitting the floor moments after losing consciousness. He was whisked away from her immediately, and while they put seven stitches in his shoulder and a pint of blood in his system, she contacted Detective Inspector Gideon Pryke.

There followed another half hour waiting for the prescribed painkillers they'd allocated him, a half-hour during which Jonathan simply stretched out across five of the pharmacy waiting room seats and fell asleep. Gideon was waiting for them when they returned to the windmill.

Finally tucked into his own bed Jonathan slept peacefully, out of any danger. Gently, more relieved than she cared to admit, she stroked her hand over his hair before leaving him to sleep.

Down in the kitchen, Gideon had made a fresh pot of coffee and was reading one of the strange collection of publications Jonathan always seemed to have neatly littering the place.
"Sorry," she sat down opposite him at the kitchen table. "Thanks for waiting."
"Not a problem." He always amazed her by being cheerfully upbeat, despite the hour. "Is he sleeping?"
She nodded. "The doc said that the pills he'd given him would knock out an elephant."
"Good. Best thing, sleep. Give him time to heal, poor lad." He closed the magazine, pushing "Carpentry for Magicians" off to one side. "Do we know what happened?"
"I'm not sure. I tried to keep him talking in the car on the way to the hospital, but he was fairly out of it. Scared to death of the sight of blood, apparently. He was going on about some man coming over the field at the front towards the windmill and throwing this knife up at him."
"Throwing the knife? Where was Jonathan standing?"
"On the balcony - that's where I found him, collapsed against the outside of the mill. I'm sure he said that the man in the field below threw the knife up at him."
"You're saying this shadowy figure stood in the field below and threw a knife fifteen feet up with enough force to bury it in a man's shoulder?"
Maddy stared at him over her coffee mug. "I see what you mean. But that's where I found him, and I doubt he'd moved very far. He's not the kind of person to make something like that up just for the hell of it, and the last thing he's ever going to do is stab himself."
Gideon accepted that as fact. "I'll have the lads over here first thing to search the area. Hopefully we'll find something." He took a mouthful of coffee. "Of course... this could be someone playing Jonathan at his own game."
The suggestion frightened her. "You don't think someone was trying to kill him last night, do you?"
"Well, it must have been a risk, if that knife was thrown from so far away. How many people are that good an aim?"
Maddy shrugged. "Must have taken lots of practice."
"Umm." He finished his coffee and glanced at his watch. "Right, well I'd better head back to HQ and sort out the plan for this morning. I'd grab a couple of hours sleep if I was you, they like to start these searches early."

*

So it was that Maddy woke to aching limbs, the sounds of shouting and whistling outside and the familiar ring of two phones both announcing the same call. Looking about from the uncomfortable leather sofa, she found the handset of Jonathan's cordless phone on the floor next to a couple of drawing pads. Reaching out, she managed to snag the handset without moving out from below the duvet.
"Hello?"
"Err... hello. Is Jonathan available?" Adam's smooth American tones were hesitant.
She wished he wouldn't assume everyone else lived by his own dodgy standards. "It's all right, Adam, it's Maddy."
She could hear the smile in his voice now. "Maddy! Great. Is he there? I have a small problem that I need to run through with him."
"I'm sorry Adam. He was attacked last night. We were at the hospital for most of the early morning hours and he's still out from the pills they gave him."
"Attacked?" She could hear the stunned surprise. "Is he... he is okay?"
"He's fine. Seven stitches in his shoulder. Probably some latent shock this morning, according to the doc. Apart from that..."
"And he will be okay?"
"He's fine, I told you. I'm sure he'll be back at your beck and call before you know it." Somehow, she heard the hurt in the silence that followed. "Sorry, Adam. I know... I'm tired, that's all. I only got to bed three hours ago and the police are here now scouring the area for clues."
"Right. Scary." He paused, and she thought perhaps she could hear something in his tone, something suspicious. Mind you, she'd always thought of him as a naturally suspicious character. "Look, tell him I rung? That I hope he's better soon, and if he could ring me when he's up to it?"
"I'll tell him, promise."

She'd just hung up when she heard Jonathan's footsteps on the wooden steps leading up from the bedroom.
"Hey, you." Pulling on some jeans, she folded the duvet and directed him to sit down. "How are you feeling?"
He grimaced as he moved. "Any more of those blissful pills around?"
She nodded. "I'll get them for you."

By the time she'd returned, Jonathan was curled onto the sofa, eyes closed, right hand rested protectively over his left shoulder. He'd managed to pull on a shirt, trousers and a thick cardy, and to get his sling back on almost correctly. Quietly, she crouched down in front of the sofa. "Jonathan...."
He opened his eyes, smiling at her. "Sorry."
"Here you go." She handed him two painkillers and a glass of water.
"What's all the noise out there?"
"The police, searching for clues."
"Clues to what?"
"Your attacker, you great wombat." She kept her tone gently affectionate.
He nodded, eyes closing again. She was standing, ready to leave him to rest, when he reached for her hand. "Thanks for coming last night. I go to pieces at the sight of blood, especially when it's mine."
"I gathered." She smiled gently. "The doc said you'll be sore for a while, and I have to watch for any signs of shock." She crouched back down, squeezing his hand.
He smiled at her sheepishly. "You don't have to hang around. I'll live."
She reached up, pushed the hair back behind his ear, touching him to reassure. "You don't have to do that. Some stranger stabs you in your own home, your place of sanctuary. You've a right to be not okay."
He smiled weakly. "And you shouldn't be so damnedably insightive." Leaning into her touch, he tried to ignore the stinging pain. And failing. Pulling back he swore brightly.

"You're going to have to take it easy." She got to her feet. "And, before I forget, Adam called this morning."
"Oh. Yeah. I lost it a bit last night after the show. Probably making sure I haven't done anything stupid, like resigned."
She frowned at him. "Actually, he said he had a small problem that he wanted to go through with you. When I told him what had happened, he told me to tell you he hoped you'd be better soon."
As Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, there was a rap on the front door.
"I'll go. You get some rest."
"I'm fine, really."
"You lost a lot of blood." Striding across the floor, she tapped her fingers. "Rest, warmth," she stopped at the top of the steps, "and lots of hot tea I think I read somewhere."

*

Nervously, Adam paced the stage, tapping his fingers against his leg. Finally, he made a decision. Stopping, turning to his staff who were generally milling about the through new scenery, he asked loudly, "does anyone know exactly where Jonathan lives?"

*

Gideon looked as cheerful and fresh as he had been earlier that morning, and each time she'd ever met him. She wasn't sure she liked being surrounded by beings who seemed almost supernatural.
Filling the kettle and washing two mugs, she asked him, "Found anything?"
"Not a thing." The bounce in his voice didn't waiver. "I think I was right last night. Someone's winding us up." He sat down and linked his arms behind his head. "The only person capable of solving this one, I believe, is Jonathan himself."
"I don't get it. Who...."

Two floors up, Jonathan had made it out on to the balcony. On his way, an ancient annual he'd picked up a few weeks ago in a bookshop in London, caught his eye where it lay on the workbench; 'Circus Entertainer'.

Out in the fields this morning, the police had reached the woodland at the edge and were repeatedly beating the greenery. He doubted there was anything to find. Lying on the sofa, he'd rerun in his mind the events of the night before; those he remembered. A high-pitched screen, a glint of something in the moonlight, figure running toward him and laughing, another glint and then a knife in his shoulder. A knife, that when he thought about it clearly, couldn't possibly have been thrown by the figure in the field.

He remembered watching a movie once, a whole scene of which had been filmed and then edited in backwards. Not only did the speech sound alien, but the action looked wrong, it had a jerky quality to it. The same quality he saw when he replayed the last night's events in his mind. If the knife hadn't come from the figure, where had it come from? And why? He sighed softly, perhaps 'why' was the easy bit.

*

Adam stared open-mouthed at the decor as he stepped up into the second floor lounge/work area of the windmill.
"This place is amazing," he told Maddy behind him. "It's like something out of a magician's dream...." His eyes fell on his consultant genius, smiling up at him from the sofa. "Jonathan...."
"Adam." The tone of the soft Essex accent spoke volumes, and when he asked Maddy if they could talk alone for a few minutes, Adam knew that Jonathan knew.

"I've been receiving threats from her family for four days," Adam admitted, speaking of the assistant who had walked out on them the previous week. "The most recent one arrived yesterday, delivered before the show, and said something about taking away what makes me great. When Maddy told me this morning you'd been attacked, I realized that they'd meant you."
Jonathan couldn't work out if he sounded depressed or saddened. He unfolded his legs from under him, leaning back into the corner of the sofa, watching Adam as he shifted in the opposite corner.
"It doesn't take much to work out that the most qualified person to pull off something like this is a circus knife-thrower, someone who can judge distance and aim from behind a blindfold, never mind under cover of darkness. And if that's the right conclusion, the only motive is your philandering, Adam."
"They could have killed you. "
But Jonathan shook his head. "They're circus performers, not murderers. I don't know, maybe they thought I'd finally say stuff it all and find a better way to make a living." He grimaced as his shoulder complained about all the movement. "What I do know is, you're going to contact Caitlin Santino, say you're very sorry and ask her what she wants. Money, her job back, a written, grovelling apology, anything. Whatever it is, you'll do it. Got that?" Adam nodded, chagrined. "Good."
"Jonathan?"
"What?" No mattered how hard he tried, he could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially not Adam when he pulled that pathetic 'lost American' face.
"You aren't going to say 'stuff it', are you?"
"That depends on whether or not forgiveness is granted to you. You know how I feel about blood, Adam, especially my own. I like to keep it inside my body if it's all the same to you."
"Understood."

Maddy caught the professional conjurer looking exceptionally apologetic as she bought two mugs of coffee upstairs.
"Gideon's called off the search and headed back to London. He said to tell you to contact him if you wanted anyone arrested."
"Umm. Maybe later."

***

Jonathan wasn't honestly sure how much more of Adam's 'sincerest apologies' he could stomach. Each morning for the passed fortnight the limo had picked him up from home and run him into London. Breakfast and lunch was bought for him, at cafes of his own choice. Adam was constantly asking if his consultant was okay, if he needed anything. After the evening shows the limo ran him home again.

The second Friday after the attack, Adam was eagerly awaiting Jonathan's arrival with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a letter in the other. It was from Caitlin Santino, thanking Adam for his generous donation to the circus her parents toured with and for his absolute, unconditional apology of his treatment of her, and reassuring Jonathan that no one would be using him for target practice in the future.

"All right, Adam," Jonathan handed him back the letter, "you can call off the limo too. I'm not sure I'm ready to move into the realms of the chauffeured quite yet."
"You shouldn't be trekking backwards and forwards on the trains with your arm all strung up."
"It's okay, you're forgiven, by her and by me. I preferred it when you treated me like a slave."
"I never treated you...." He frowned at Jonathan's expression. "Okay, okay. I'll stop mothering you."
"Thank you." He took the bottle from Adam's hand. "The sling should be off in a few days anyway."
Appearing at his shoulder, Maddy lifted the bottle from Jonathan's light grip. "Good morning. Looking for somewhere to enjoy this?"

*

By the time he got to her place, after the show that night, the aroma of something wonderful slow-cooking had filled the flat. He breathed it in, closing the door behind him. Maddy was in the kitchen, open bottle of wine at her side, just putting the finishing touches to the starter.
"Hope you're hungry."

An hour later they retired to the sofa, the rest of the bottle of wine and half the champagne gone. Dropping down together in the candle light, Jonathan refilled their glasses and chinked them together.
"I had a call from Gideon today," she told him. "He'd been reading back through the report, and he wanted to know if you'd worked out about the scream you heard that night, and about the figure in the snow, et cetera, et cetera."
Jonathan shrugged. "A bit melodramatic, these circus folk. Probably read your book and figured they'd make something of it, instead of just knifing me and being done with it. If they didn't find anything suspicious." He smiled at her. "Not everything has a definite explanation."
She turned to him, wide-eyed, open-mouthed. "I thought your philosophy was that everything had an explanation."
He sighed softly. "Can you explain us?"

She opened her mouth, but closed it again. It was a few minutes before she answered him. "I suppose it depends, doesn't it?"
"On what?"
"On you, Jonathan." Turning, she leaned across his lap, carefully minding his arm, pushing his thick, unruly hair behind his left ear. "On what explanation you want to give me. Are we friends? Or do you fancy trying a relationship which involves... unzipping, and unbuttoning?"

His mouth was as soft as she'd imagined it would be. After a moment, he responded, and she kissed him as she'd imagined doing so many times since meeting him. She felt his arm come up to wrap around her, and something within her shouted with joy. Finally, finally this unbearable thing between them would be settled. She'd seen far too many women look at him with hungry eyes to ever give up on him. As she'd told her friend Sheena, he was hardly an easy mark, hardly a pushover. But, God, he was worth it.

Time seemed to stand still, the spell broken only by the ringing of the phone that they both ignored. Her fingers found their way under his shirt, across his warm skin as the answering machine took the message.
"Madeleine? Adam. I'm looking for Jonathan. If he's with you when you get in, could you get him to call me? Thanks."
The machine beeped once. Maddy and Jonathan gazed at one another.
"The question you have to ask yourself, Jonathan, is which one of us can wait?"

fin
elfin
07/01/00

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