Telepathy (The Ties That Bind)

Officer Rachel Morris checked her reflection in the back of a teaspoon, patting down a wisp of black hair. She studied her blue eyes and caramel skin for a moment before dropping the spoon back beside her plate. Michael's phone call came as a surprise to her. While she'd thought of him many times over the past two years, she'd had little contact with the man she once thought would be her husband someday. Rachel met Michael her freshman year at U.C.L.A. He was a junior, "And fine as hell," she couldn't help adding to herself. They had been college sweethearts, which turned into an illicit affair when she joined the LAPD. He had been the one to suggest they see other people. She still didn't know why, but resigned herself to the fact that this was the way life worked.

She had been at the restaurant only fifteen minutes before she saw Michael's sandy hair through the front glass window. "My God," she breathed, "He's like wine...or cheese...better with age." She hastily composed her features into a noncommittal mask of ambivalence as Michael spotted her and maneuvered his way through the tables of the little diner, smiling affectionately at her.

"So...what's up?" Rachel asked casually as Michael sat across fro mher and perused the menu.

"What? I can't call up an old friend and ask her to lunch without an ulterior motive?" Michael asked innocently. Rachel shot him a quelling look.

"You tell me you want to see other people. Two years go by, I only hear fom you at Christmas and Easter. All of a sudden, I get a phone call from you, asking to meet for lunch without even a 'How have you been, Rachel?' So, let'sd cut the crap and get to the point, Mike." She folded her arms across her chest and gave him her sternest Officer Morris look. "What gives?"

Michael sighed wearily. "I think Allison's in trouble."

"No...not that again," Rachel spat in exasperation. "How'd it happen, Michael...did her pet bunny rabbit, Chuckles, who died when she was six, come to you in a night vision, lead you to the yellow brick road to grandmother's house and show you that Allison's been kidnapped?" This was one of the reasons Rachel had only half-heartedly protested when Michael suggest they see other people. She couldn't understand his ability. What she thought was just great intuition, Michael had revealed comes to him in dreams. She didn't fully buy into it, she only knew it was very frustrating.

"You're right about one thing," Michael said, peering at her with hooded gaze.

"You spoke to Chuckles? Is he well? How's the afterlife treating him?"

"No, Allison's been kidnapped. I saw it."

"How do you mean, 'you saw it'? 'You saw it' as in you are witness to a crime, or you dreamed a little dream?"

Michael tossed the menu aside in annoyance. "C'mon, Rachel. Give me a break, please? I didn't ask for what I have, I just got it, and this would be a lot easier for me if you'd just lay off your sarcastic cracks for ten minutes!"

"All right...ten minutes," Rachel relented, glancing at her watch.

Michael filled Rachel in on everything that had happened since his dream of her had been interrupted (although he left that little detail out), as well as his suspicions after being unable to reach Allison and the conversation with Dorien. Reluctantly, telling herself she would eventually regret it, Rachel agreed to help look for Allison in her spare time. She wasn't too concerned, as Allison hadn't yet been missing for twelve hours, let alone twenty-four, but Michael seemed genuinely uneasy. They agreed to meet that evening to formulate a plan.