The Meridians(57)

"You fell down and there was so much blood and we were so worried -" began the woman.

"Easy, easy," said Scott, and stroked her hair comfortingly without thinking twice about it. Then he froze as he realized he was doing it. What would Amy think? he wondered to himself, and dropped his hands from Lynette's hair, trying not to think how thick and vibrant it had felt in his hands; trying not to notice how lithe and alive her body felt against his own. "What happened?"

"What happened is that Kevin looks like he's a hero," said Gil with a chuckle.

Lynette flashed a dazzling smile at the big man. "Thanks for watching out for Scott," she said.

Gil waved off the praise. "Shoot," he said, "tough sucker like Scott doesn't need an old mother hen like me looking out for him. Well," he added with a wink, "not usually, anyway." Then he looked around. "Where's Kevin?" he asked.

"I got him to the car," answered Lynette. "Your wife's with him. Hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" said Gil with a laugh. "Don't mind at all. Fact is, Brenda gets all riled up and cranky when she goes too long without getting to spend time with your boy, so actually, you're doing me a favor. Still," he said, looking meaningfully from Scott to Lynette and back again, "I guess I'll mosey over to the car and make sure that she hasn't decided to adopt him or something."

And with that Gil ambled off, looking for all the world like a tree that had grown legs and decided to take a walk around the parking lot of the supermarket.

The supermarket.

Scott looked around, suddenly realizing what had happened. "There was an explosion!" he shouted. Without thinking, he held Lynette at arm's length to see if she was hurt in any way.

"I'm fine, Scott," she protested. "In fact, the only one who got hurt at all was you. I wanted to call an ambulance, but Gil said you were..." she paused and blushed cutely. "Well, he said you were a tough something-or-other and that if I called an ambulance it would just embarrass you."

Scott couldn't help but laugh to hear that. "Don't you listen to him next time. I'm a big wimp and you are free to call an ambulance any time I hit my head, fall over, stub my toe, or suffer a really serious hangnail."

Lynette laughed, the musical sound cutting through much of the fog that still clung to Scott's thoughts. "Seriously, though," he continued, "how is it?"

"You might need a stitch or two," said Lynette after looking at his ear for a second, "but other than that you look fine."

"Other than that?" he said with a grimace. "Lady, have you seen my face recently."

"Oh, your face is fine," she said. And she said it in such a sincere, off-handed way that it came across as greater praise than if she had suddenly flown into a monologue about the benefits of facial scars. She blushed again - she was pretty when she blushed, he noted - and he felt the blood rising to his own cheeks as well.

"Well, even if I believe that lie," he said after a wonderfully awkward moment of silence, "I'd still like someone to tell me what happened."

Lynette put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Scott," she said, "I can hardly believe it. You remember that beastly woman that I was arguing with?"

"The bigoted bitch?"

That drew another blush from Lynette. "Her name's Ruth, actually."

"You guys have become quite close, I see."

"We have, in point of fact," said Lynette with a puckishly arched eyebrow.

"Do tell, milady, do tell," said Scott. He could feel sticky wetness on the side of his already-marred face and down on his neck and knew he should probably have Gil take him to the nearby hospital to get looked at, but wouldn't have left this conversation for the world.

Before Lynette could continue, however, the loud wail of a siren drew his attention. His trained ear told him instantly that it was an ambulance. "I thought you said Gil wouldn't let you call an ambulance," he said.

"It's not for you," answered Lynette, and her expression grew suddenly downcast.

"Well for who then?"

Instead of answering with words, Lynette instead took Scott by the shoulders and gently turned him around to face the parking lot of the supermarket. Scott gaped, his mouth falling open so fully that he swore he heard his jaw hinges crack from the strain.

"What the hell...?" he began.

The parking lot was a smoldering mess. At first it looked like half the cars were on fire, but then he quickly realized that all the smoke was coming from only two vehicles: a large custom pickup truck with a lift kit and roll bars installed, and a gray Volvo station wagon. The truck had clearly smashed into the Volvo, which was in one of the parking spaces, and the force of the crash coupled with the added height given by the lift kit had propelled the truck right up and over the Volvo until the truck was resting on top of it as neatly as could be.

Whoever was in the Volvo is a goner, he thought automatically, his cop training surfacing dustily to the forefront of his mind. Out loud, he asked, "Anyone in the Volvo?"

"No," said Lynette. "The ambulance is for the people in the truck."

"Alive?"

Lynette grew quiet. Answer enough. "The truck just came out of nowhere, running right down the front of the parking lot and then crashing into the Volvo. The truck must have been carrying something flammable because, well...." Her voice drifted off, as though she was unable or unwilling to complete the thought.