Blood Lines

Competition had been the basis of their relationship from the day they first met, two very intense young police constables both certain that they were the answer regardless of the question. Michael Celluci, with four years' seniority, an accelerated promotion, and a citation, had some reason for believing that. Vicki Nelson, just out of the academy, took it on faith. Four years later, Vicki had become known as
    "Victory" around the force, they'd discovered a number of mutual interests, and the competition had become so much a part of the way they operated that their superiors used it to the force's advantage. Four years after that, when Vicki's deteriorating eyesight compelled her to choose between a desk or leaving, the system broke down. She couldn't stay and become less than what she was, so she left. He couldn't just let her go. Words were said. It took months for the wounds left by those words to heal and more months where pride on both sides refused to make the first move. Then a threat to the city they'd both sworn to serve threw them together and a new relationship had to be forged out of the ruins of the old.
    'Blocking me is cheating, you long-armed bastard!"
    It turned out not to be significantly different.
    The yellow metal steps switchbacking up the side of the CN Tower were no more than three and a half feet wide-easy enough for a tall man to keep one hand on each banister and use his arms to take some of the strain on the muscles of his upper body. And, incidentally, make it impossible for anyone behind to pass.
    Six landings up, Vicki put on a burst of speed and slid between Celluci and the inner wall, the damp concrete scraping against her shoulder blades. She pulled out ahead, two stairs at a time, feeling Celluci climbing right on her heels. At five ten it was almost easier for her to climb taking double strides. Unfortunately, it was definitely easier for Celluci at six four.
    Neither of them paused at the first water station.
    The lead switched back and forth twice more, the sound of high tech rubber soles pounding down on the metal stairs reverberating throughout the enclosed space like distant thunder. Later in the day, the plexiglass sheets that separated the climbers from the view would begin to cloud over with the accumulated moisture panted out of hundreds of pairs of lungs, but this early in the morning, the skyline of Toronto fell away beside them with vertigo-inducing clarity.
    Giving thanks in this one instance that she had almost no peripheral vision and therefore no idea of how high they actually were from the ground, Vicki charged past the second water station. Three hundred feet to go. No problem. Her calves were beginning to protest, her lungs to burn, but she'd be damned if she'd slow and give Celluci a chance to get past.
    The stairs turned from yellow to gray, although the original color showed through where countless feet had rubbed off the second coat of paint. They were into the emergency exit stairs for the restaurant level.
    Almost there … Celluci was so close she could feel his breath hot against her back. He hit the last landing seconds behind her. One, two strides to the open door. On level ground, his longer legs brought them even. Vicki made a desperate grab at the edge of the doorway and exploded out into the carpeted hall.
    'Nine minutes, fifty-four seconds. Nine minutes, fifty-five seconds."
    As soon as I have enough breath, I'll rub it in . For the moment, Vicki leaned against the wall, panting, heart pounding with enough force to vibrate her entire body, sweat collecting and dripping off her chin.
    Celluci collapsed against the wall beside her.
    One of the Heart Fund volunteers approached, stopwatch in hand. "Now then, I'll just get your finishing heart rates…"
    Vicki and Celluci exchanged identical glances.
    'I don't think," Vicki managed to gasp, "that we really want… to know."
    Although the timed portion of the climb was over, they had another four flights to go up before they reached the observation deck and were officially finished.
    'Nine minutes and fifty-four seconds." Celluci scrubbed at his face with the lower edge of his T-shirt as they moved back into the stairwell. "Not bad for an old broad."
    'Who are you calling old, asshole? Let's just keep in mind that I can give you five years."
    'Fine." He held out his hand. "I'll take them now."
    Vicki pulled herself up another step, quadriceps visibly trembling under the fleece of her sweatpants. "I want