LOCI Fic - "Off the Clock"
Off the Clock
By Très Méchante
SUMMARY: The secret off-duty lives of those sworn to serve and protect.
RATING: T13+
WARNINGS: None, other than one quasi-naughty word and references to the crippling cost of higher education
SPOILERS: None
ARCHIVE: Amorous Intent, of course; anyone else, please ask
FEEDBACK: always appreciated; this list or tresmechante [at] yahoo [dot] ca
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Law & Order: Criminal Intent universe (yet). The characters are merely being taken for a test drive.
A/N: This is my response to the “Sunny Side” challenge, which got me to wondering… what are the detectives like during their off hours? These are their stories, in a series of vignettes, as told by someone who encounters them when they are off the clock.
The style is a bit of an experiment for me. And, in spite of my best intentions, the story didn’t turn out quite as fluffy as I had intended.
Oh, and don’t bother trying to work out a specific timeline. I don’t have one in mind, other than as a series of random moments taking place over a few months. Or weeks. No, no, definitely months…
**cross posted to Amorous Intent, Amorous Intent Adult…pretty much all over heck’s half-acre, really.
==== == ==== ==
Off the Clock
Only a crazy person would study law and political science at the same time. And since I’m a law student studying for a municipal government exam, I must be insane. I’ve got a mid-term at the end of the week and all these pesky little details are just not sinking in.
“If you’re not careful, your face will freeze like that.”
I jump in surprise at the intrusion, but relax when I see who’s there.
“Good morning. You’re early.” Fortunately the coffee is finished. I quickly pour him a cup to go and reach for a bagel.
“Mind toasting that?” he asks.
We make small talk while the bagel toasts. A quick look around shows the other customers are happy for the moment.
I’m trying to remember this guy’s name. He’s attractive - in a ‘probably old enough to be my father’ kind of way. Silvery blond hair, blue eyes and a strong chin. Movie star handsome, as my grandma would say.
He’s been coming in here off and on since I started a couple of years ago. I do know one thing about him - he’s a detective. He flashed his badge once when some punk was giving me a hard time.
I hand him his change. Damn, what is his name? We’ve never been introduced, but I heard it when he answered his cell. Starts with a D…Dickens?
“See you later.” He gives me one of his cute grins and turns to leave. He nods to someone coming in - and I’m surprised at the respectful one-word response.
Whoa. He’s a police captain? The guy’s obviously older than he looks.
The rest of the early morning rush passes in a blur. Before I know it I’m yelling goodbye and running out to get to class.
Law school is taking forever since I’m not taking a full course load. Even with student loans and a small scholarship, there’s no way I can afford to not work at least part time.
Running down the stairs to the subway, I remind myself that while getting my degree will take a lot longer this way, I’ll be in great shape when I graduate.
----- -- -----
Dodging another groping hand, I make my way to the bar to place my order. This is not how I wanted to celebrate the end of my exams. I wanted to sleep, but instead let myself agree to swap shifts with someone.
I navigate the rowdy crowd once more, tray balanced and steady as I avoid another hand. There has got to be a full moon tonight. Or an octopus convention.
“Gentlemen.” I smile - friendly, but not too friendly. It’s a fine line. Too friendly gets a girl in trouble, but not friendly enough gets no tip at all.
The deli job is easier on the feet - no heels - but this one is where the money is. Since I need new books next term, I guess I’ll just grin and try not to let any of the guys bare it.
Damn, this one’s fast. He’s got hold of my ass and won’t let go. I look over at Roger, the bouncer. I hope this doesn’t get ugly.
Before Roger can move I’m free and the troublemaker is on the floor. What the hell…?
“That is no way to treat a lady. You okay?” He’s a tall one. Dark hair slicked back, solid build and a face that could be called handsome but also looks really lived in. I’m not quite sure what color his eyes are, but they are concerned.
“Uh, yeah.” I’m still a little stunned by the turn of events.
Suddenly, Roger is there and hauling the guy up and toward the door. The creep’s buddies toss money on the table and follow. They’re a little less rowdy than they were a few moments ago.
I look my rescuer. “Thanks.”
He smiles at me, one of *those* smiles. “Any time,” he says with a wink and wanders back to his friends. As I clean the table I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He tosses back the rest of his drink and grabs his coat.
His buddies are protesting. “Oh, come on Mike. One more.”
I have to admit I’m disappointed by his reply.
“Sorry guys. I’ve got a frisky blonde warming my bed. She’s waiting for me to perform my duties, and I’d really hate to disappoint her.”
They all laugh, and I just roll my eyes. Pig.
By the time my shift ends, I’m ready to sleep for a month. Note to self: pick up a lottery ticket.
----- -- -----
I give my uncle a hug as I pass him behind the counter. He hands me a cookie and tells me to take a break.
Normally I don’t work in my uncle’s diner, but my cousin twisted her ankle this morning, leaving him short-staffed. How could I say no?
I hurry over to pick up the order for one of the regulars. Uncle Sean says he comes in either on Saturday or Sunday afternoon and always orders the same thing: Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a large glass of milk. And he never eats the mixed vegetables.
“Here you are,” I say, setting the plate in front of him. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thanks,” he says, turning those beautiful, sorrowful brown eyes my way.
I have the strangest urge to protect him.
He picks at his meal, pausing every so often to stare out the window. I can’t help but wonder what has him so sad.
When he appears to be done, I wander over to collect his plate. The peas are still there, looking lost now that everything else is gone.
He orders a slice of apple pie, hot with ice cream.
I can’t resist teasing him a bit. “Hey, you didn’t finish your veggies. No dessert if you don’t clean your plate.”
He looks up at me and I immediately think of an oncoming storm. His voice is mild enough, but still carries venom.
“Don’t you think you’re a little young to be acting like my mother?”
I’m shocked. I hadn’t meant any harm. Anger follows quickly and the words escape my mouth before I can stop them. “Don’t you think you’re a little old to be acting like a 5-year-old?”
We stare at each other until the bell above the door rings, startling us both. I walk to the kitchen and get his dessert.
When I return, he looks at me shyly. “I-I didn’t…mean…” he rambles a bit, and his hands keep twisting together. He stops talking and looks away.
I lean forward a bit and confide, “I never eat the peas. Or broccoli.”
He looks startled for a moment and then he grins - just a tiny one.
Peace offering accepted.
I get the coffee pot and attend to the new customers.
Long after he’s gone, I still think about that strange, sad man. I hope he has someone to go home to.
----- -- -----
In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. Balance on my sit bones.
What the hell are sit bones, anyway?
“That’s it, you’ve got it.”
Back straight. Shoulder blades down.
I had no idea yoga was so complicated.
“Now hold that. Just be in the moment. Listen to your bodies.”
A little flurry of activity across the room catches my attention. I wondered if she was going to show up. I smile at the late arrival. She smiles back and then focuses on the teacher’s new instructions.
“Gently moving into the next position, Downward Facing Dog.”
By the end of the 90 minutes, my muscles are trembling.
“Hell of a workout.”
I turn, smiling. Alex.
“Oh yeah. I started this because I needed to work on stress reduction and everybody insists yoga is relaxing.”
She laughs. “I hear ya. Still, I do feel better than when I arrived.”
“I didn’t think you were coming today.” Sometimes she has to work, but I don’t know where or what she does.
“Me neither. Late night.” She finishes packing up her bag and we wander toward the exit.
“Hot date?”
She snorts at that. “I wish. Work. I didn’t get out of there until almost two.”
“In the morning? I’m impressed you made it to class.”
“You and me, both.”
We’ve been taking this class for a couple of months. We’ve chatted after class and gotten to know each other a bit. But I’d like to get to know her better.
She smothers a yawn.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Hey, you want to grab a coffee?” I hope that doesn’t sound as nervous as I feel.
“Gee, sorry. I’m meeting my partner.”
Crap. She’s attached.
“I have to pick him up in half an hour.”
And hetero.
“We’ve got to get back to work and tie up some loose ends. Maybe another time?”
It takes my brain a moment to catch up. “Work? Oh, you mean a business partner.”
She laughs. I just love that laugh. “Sort of.” She takes a quick look at her watch. “I’ve got to run. See you next week. Maybe we can do coffee then?”
“Sure.” I wave as she heads off.
Checking my own watch, I decide to hit the library. My paper won’t write itself. Damn it.
----- -- -----
The pretzels smell good. I’m going through my pockets looking for money when a man’s voice comes from behind me.
“My treat.”
I turn and see the guy from the bar. The pig.
He smiles. “I didn’t see you Friday night? Everything okay?”
I shrug, not wanting to engage in conversation.
He takes a huge bite of his pretzel. “This is good. Busy studying, huh?”
“How did you…” I’m starting to get a little creeped out.
“I’m not stalking you.” He points to my open backpack, filled with books and binders.
He grins, apparently quite pleased with himself. “Don’t have to be a genius to make the connection.”
He turns serious and asks if I’ve got a minute. He walks toward a bench, so I follow but keep my distance.
“I, uh, I want to apologize for offending you,” he says.
“Offend me, when?”
“A couple of weeks ago. You have a very expressive face, you know. And there’s a mirror behind the bar…”
Oh. My. God.
“So, I apologize. And I’d like to introduce you to the lady in question.” Suddenly he calls out, “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet a friend.”
A small blonde cocker spaniel rushes up to him, stumpy tail wagging excitedly.
I’m so embarrassed. “So what you said…they knew you were talking about a dog.”
“Nope. They drew the same conclusion you did.” He’s on his knees beside the dog, feeding her a bit of his pretzel.
I kneel beside them.
“She’s so little. How old is she?”
“About four years old. She was malnourished as a puppy so she never did grow much.” He looks fierce for a moment. “A friend and I found her. We shared custody up until…but he, uh, he passed away. Now she’s mine.” His voice has gone soft.
The little dog jumped up, giving him a slobbering kiss before stealing the rest of his pretzel.
He looks at me and gives me a surprisingly shy grin. “I just didn’t want you to have the wrong idea about me. I’m kind of hoping to sit in your section again - better service.”
I can’t help but laugh as I tell him I have to go. “Thanks. For the pretzel and the introduction to your lady friend.”
He suddenly shifts into lady’s man mode. “I’m Mike, by the way. What’s your name?”
I just smile, wave and keep going. But I am kind of hoping he’ll turn up Friday night.
I bet he tips big.
----- -- -----
It sounds like something out of the ‘X-Files.’ The one with thousands upon thousands of bees buzzing and droning everywhere.
Of course, this is real life not…Holy Hannah. That guy looks like Frohicke.
An all-night ‘X-Files’ marathon has obviously done something to my brain. Taking a fortifying swig of cola, I grab hold of my reality and hurry to meet my friends.
Go-carts. Go figure. I’m here to cheer on my cousin’s boyfriend in some kind of charity race. It’s not my thing, but it is family. Hands in pocket, I make sure earplugs are at the ready.
Looking around for Jay’s cart and pit crew, I’m amazed at the age range of participants. A loud shout draws my attention to one of the pit crews.
I find myself staring at one of the rowdy crew members. He looks familiar. It’s the meatloaf guy. I almost didn’t recognize him. Man, he looks different. Plaid shirt, jeans, hair tousled, and a huge smile.
Wow.
I watch him for a minute, trying not to be too obvious about it. I can just hear some of the words as they horse around. Him and this Lewis guy seem pretty tight. And the sad guy is sure happy right now. He looks a lot younger, too.
He takes off his shades for a moment and looks right at me, waving. I give a small wave back and start walking again, embarrassed at being caught staring.
Those eyes. Even from here I can see the difference in him. There’s something about that direct, open look - very attractive, kind of sexy. If anyone could have a shot at convincing me to bat for the other team, I bet it’d be him.
A shrill whistle catches my attention. It’s my cousin’s boyfriend. I hurry over to them.
When the next group of racers gets into position, I look back at the mystery man. He’s wriggling that huge frame into the driver’s seat - looking so damn awkward it’s actually cute.
He looks up and sees me watching. He grins, gives me a thumbs-up and then slides his visor into place, all business.
The droning of a thousand bees sounds again as the drivers rev their engines. I can’t help but think that, win or lose, that guy is already a winner. At least for today.
----- -- -----
“Personally, I’ve always been more of a Trixie Belden girl. I’m not really sure why,” says my dinner date.
Okay, not really a date, not in the romantic sense. But still, she’s hot and I’ll take what I can get.
“Yeah, she’s totally underrated and under appreciated.”
A comment about the Harry Potter series led to sharing our favorite childhood books.
The conversation moves on and I’m amazed at the intellect of this woman. She doesn’t show off her smarts. It’s just there, subtle and easily overlooked because it’s just part of who she is.
We met for coffee a few times after yoga, which is when I found out she’s a detective. I also found out that Alex has a wicked sense of humor. She is quite possibly the queen of snark.
Listening to her talk, I suddenly find myself focusing more on watching her lips than listening to her words. My responses are a little vague, and she gives me this look, like maybe she knows where my mind has gone.
I blush, but laugh with her when she calls me on it.
Yup. I’ve got a serious crush on this woman. If only…
I’ve flirted with her, and much to my delight, she didn’t shoot me down. In my more optimistic moments, I think maybe she’s flirting back. However, I get the feeling Alex is not on the market.
She doesn’t talk about work much, but when she does there’s a quality to her voice when she talks about her partner. It makes me think *partner*, rather than just partner.
As the evening winds down, I’m sorry that it has to end.
I’m heading for the bus when she calls me back. “Want a ride?”
Not wanting to impose, I assure her I’m fine.
“No trouble. And it’s pretty late.”
I can’t resist that smile. “Okay. Where are you parked?”
She gestures vaguely down a side street. “My place. I walked.”
Oh. My brain hiccups and my belly does a slow rollercoaster swoop. “Um. If you’re sure…”
She gives me that grin, and we head off down the street.
While we chat, I keep telling myself that she really is just giving a friend a lift. And that she obviously has a thing for her *male* partner.
I don’t mind. Well, not too much. I just really like her company.
----- -- -----
“Welcome back.”
I look up and smile at the man in front of me. I feel as though I am seeing him for the first time. Some of that must have shown on my face.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I’m not sure how to answer, so I busy myself getting his coffee and bagel, stalling while I decided what to say.
He’s still waiting for an answer. I can tell because he’s taken a seat at the counter and is watching me.
“My sister had an accident last weekend.”
“I take it things were pretty bad?”
“Still are, actually. She’ll be okay, eventually.” It takes an effort to pour the coffee without spilling. “She was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh. That’s not what I meant. The accident induced premature labor. I have a niece…”
He’s just sitting there, waiting for me to continue. He’s so patient.
“She’s so tiny. The doctor says she may not make it.”
“Medical science has come a long way, you know.”
“I know. But I think it’s the other thing that’ll make the difference.”
“What other thing?”
He hands me a twenty and I ring in the sale.
“The doctor says touch is very important. I’ve held her hand and rubbed her back - you know, through those openings in the incubator? I’m scared to hold her, but any touch is supposed to be helpful.”
“I’ve read about that. Your niece is lucky to have you.”
“Well, it’s not just me. The night nurse said there are volunteers who cuddle the babies, giving them that contact and love.”
I come back with the change, but don’t offer it right away.
“Those are the people who will get her through this,” I say. “The ones who come in at night and hold her, sing to her and tell her stories about a terrier named Pickles.”
He looks at me in shock. As our eye meet I see him as he was the night before, holding my niece in his arms, telling her some silly story. I’d left without saying anything because I didn’t want to interrupt.
The nurse told me that “Jimmy” stopped in every so often to cuddle the preemies. It had something to do with one of his own children.
All I knew - and know - is that she looked safe and loved. I told the nurse I’d drop in some time today for my turn.
The spell is broken when someone calls for more coffee.
As I place the change into his hand, I say, “I hope these special people know how much they are appreciated.”
His fingers gently close over mine, squeezing gently before letting go. He grabs his coffee and bagel and stands up. Smiling at me, he simply says “They do.”
The morning flies by, and before I know it, I’m out the door and heading to class. Strangely, I feel invigorated rather than rushed.
That bodes well for the week, I think.
--FIN--
:is excited to have finished this::
By Très Méchante
SUMMARY: The secret off-duty lives of those sworn to serve and protect.
RATING: T13+
WARNINGS: None, other than one quasi-naughty word and references to the crippling cost of higher education
SPOILERS: None
ARCHIVE: Amorous Intent, of course; anyone else, please ask
FEEDBACK: always appreciated; this list or tresmechante [at] yahoo [dot] ca
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Law & Order: Criminal Intent universe (yet). The characters are merely being taken for a test drive.
A/N: This is my response to the “Sunny Side” challenge, which got me to wondering… what are the detectives like during their off hours? These are their stories, in a series of vignettes, as told by someone who encounters them when they are off the clock.
The style is a bit of an experiment for me. And, in spite of my best intentions, the story didn’t turn out quite as fluffy as I had intended.
Oh, and don’t bother trying to work out a specific timeline. I don’t have one in mind, other than as a series of random moments taking place over a few months. Or weeks. No, no, definitely months…
**cross posted to Amorous Intent, Amorous Intent Adult…pretty much all over heck’s half-acre, really.
==== == ==== ==
Off the Clock
Only a crazy person would study law and political science at the same time. And since I’m a law student studying for a municipal government exam, I must be insane. I’ve got a mid-term at the end of the week and all these pesky little details are just not sinking in.
“If you’re not careful, your face will freeze like that.”
I jump in surprise at the intrusion, but relax when I see who’s there.
“Good morning. You’re early.” Fortunately the coffee is finished. I quickly pour him a cup to go and reach for a bagel.
“Mind toasting that?” he asks.
We make small talk while the bagel toasts. A quick look around shows the other customers are happy for the moment.
I’m trying to remember this guy’s name. He’s attractive - in a ‘probably old enough to be my father’ kind of way. Silvery blond hair, blue eyes and a strong chin. Movie star handsome, as my grandma would say.
He’s been coming in here off and on since I started a couple of years ago. I do know one thing about him - he’s a detective. He flashed his badge once when some punk was giving me a hard time.
I hand him his change. Damn, what is his name? We’ve never been introduced, but I heard it when he answered his cell. Starts with a D…Dickens?
“See you later.” He gives me one of his cute grins and turns to leave. He nods to someone coming in - and I’m surprised at the respectful one-word response.
Whoa. He’s a police captain? The guy’s obviously older than he looks.
The rest of the early morning rush passes in a blur. Before I know it I’m yelling goodbye and running out to get to class.
Law school is taking forever since I’m not taking a full course load. Even with student loans and a small scholarship, there’s no way I can afford to not work at least part time.
Running down the stairs to the subway, I remind myself that while getting my degree will take a lot longer this way, I’ll be in great shape when I graduate.
----- -- -----
Dodging another groping hand, I make my way to the bar to place my order. This is not how I wanted to celebrate the end of my exams. I wanted to sleep, but instead let myself agree to swap shifts with someone.
I navigate the rowdy crowd once more, tray balanced and steady as I avoid another hand. There has got to be a full moon tonight. Or an octopus convention.
“Gentlemen.” I smile - friendly, but not too friendly. It’s a fine line. Too friendly gets a girl in trouble, but not friendly enough gets no tip at all.
The deli job is easier on the feet - no heels - but this one is where the money is. Since I need new books next term, I guess I’ll just grin and try not to let any of the guys bare it.
Damn, this one’s fast. He’s got hold of my ass and won’t let go. I look over at Roger, the bouncer. I hope this doesn’t get ugly.
Before Roger can move I’m free and the troublemaker is on the floor. What the hell…?
“That is no way to treat a lady. You okay?” He’s a tall one. Dark hair slicked back, solid build and a face that could be called handsome but also looks really lived in. I’m not quite sure what color his eyes are, but they are concerned.
“Uh, yeah.” I’m still a little stunned by the turn of events.
Suddenly, Roger is there and hauling the guy up and toward the door. The creep’s buddies toss money on the table and follow. They’re a little less rowdy than they were a few moments ago.
I look my rescuer. “Thanks.”
He smiles at me, one of *those* smiles. “Any time,” he says with a wink and wanders back to his friends. As I clean the table I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He tosses back the rest of his drink and grabs his coat.
His buddies are protesting. “Oh, come on Mike. One more.”
I have to admit I’m disappointed by his reply.
“Sorry guys. I’ve got a frisky blonde warming my bed. She’s waiting for me to perform my duties, and I’d really hate to disappoint her.”
They all laugh, and I just roll my eyes. Pig.
By the time my shift ends, I’m ready to sleep for a month. Note to self: pick up a lottery ticket.
----- -- -----
I give my uncle a hug as I pass him behind the counter. He hands me a cookie and tells me to take a break.
Normally I don’t work in my uncle’s diner, but my cousin twisted her ankle this morning, leaving him short-staffed. How could I say no?
I hurry over to pick up the order for one of the regulars. Uncle Sean says he comes in either on Saturday or Sunday afternoon and always orders the same thing: Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a large glass of milk. And he never eats the mixed vegetables.
“Here you are,” I say, setting the plate in front of him. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thanks,” he says, turning those beautiful, sorrowful brown eyes my way.
I have the strangest urge to protect him.
He picks at his meal, pausing every so often to stare out the window. I can’t help but wonder what has him so sad.
When he appears to be done, I wander over to collect his plate. The peas are still there, looking lost now that everything else is gone.
He orders a slice of apple pie, hot with ice cream.
I can’t resist teasing him a bit. “Hey, you didn’t finish your veggies. No dessert if you don’t clean your plate.”
He looks up at me and I immediately think of an oncoming storm. His voice is mild enough, but still carries venom.
“Don’t you think you’re a little young to be acting like my mother?”
I’m shocked. I hadn’t meant any harm. Anger follows quickly and the words escape my mouth before I can stop them. “Don’t you think you’re a little old to be acting like a 5-year-old?”
We stare at each other until the bell above the door rings, startling us both. I walk to the kitchen and get his dessert.
When I return, he looks at me shyly. “I-I didn’t…mean…” he rambles a bit, and his hands keep twisting together. He stops talking and looks away.
I lean forward a bit and confide, “I never eat the peas. Or broccoli.”
He looks startled for a moment and then he grins - just a tiny one.
Peace offering accepted.
I get the coffee pot and attend to the new customers.
Long after he’s gone, I still think about that strange, sad man. I hope he has someone to go home to.
----- -- -----
In. Out. In. Out. Breathe. Balance on my sit bones.
What the hell are sit bones, anyway?
“That’s it, you’ve got it.”
Back straight. Shoulder blades down.
I had no idea yoga was so complicated.
“Now hold that. Just be in the moment. Listen to your bodies.”
A little flurry of activity across the room catches my attention. I wondered if she was going to show up. I smile at the late arrival. She smiles back and then focuses on the teacher’s new instructions.
“Gently moving into the next position, Downward Facing Dog.”
By the end of the 90 minutes, my muscles are trembling.
“Hell of a workout.”
I turn, smiling. Alex.
“Oh yeah. I started this because I needed to work on stress reduction and everybody insists yoga is relaxing.”
She laughs. “I hear ya. Still, I do feel better than when I arrived.”
“I didn’t think you were coming today.” Sometimes she has to work, but I don’t know where or what she does.
“Me neither. Late night.” She finishes packing up her bag and we wander toward the exit.
“Hot date?”
She snorts at that. “I wish. Work. I didn’t get out of there until almost two.”
“In the morning? I’m impressed you made it to class.”
“You and me, both.”
We’ve been taking this class for a couple of months. We’ve chatted after class and gotten to know each other a bit. But I’d like to get to know her better.
She smothers a yawn.
Well, here goes nothing.
“Hey, you want to grab a coffee?” I hope that doesn’t sound as nervous as I feel.
“Gee, sorry. I’m meeting my partner.”
Crap. She’s attached.
“I have to pick him up in half an hour.”
And hetero.
“We’ve got to get back to work and tie up some loose ends. Maybe another time?”
It takes my brain a moment to catch up. “Work? Oh, you mean a business partner.”
She laughs. I just love that laugh. “Sort of.” She takes a quick look at her watch. “I’ve got to run. See you next week. Maybe we can do coffee then?”
“Sure.” I wave as she heads off.
Checking my own watch, I decide to hit the library. My paper won’t write itself. Damn it.
----- -- -----
The pretzels smell good. I’m going through my pockets looking for money when a man’s voice comes from behind me.
“My treat.”
I turn and see the guy from the bar. The pig.
He smiles. “I didn’t see you Friday night? Everything okay?”
I shrug, not wanting to engage in conversation.
He takes a huge bite of his pretzel. “This is good. Busy studying, huh?”
“How did you…” I’m starting to get a little creeped out.
“I’m not stalking you.” He points to my open backpack, filled with books and binders.
He grins, apparently quite pleased with himself. “Don’t have to be a genius to make the connection.”
He turns serious and asks if I’ve got a minute. He walks toward a bench, so I follow but keep my distance.
“I, uh, I want to apologize for offending you,” he says.
“Offend me, when?”
“A couple of weeks ago. You have a very expressive face, you know. And there’s a mirror behind the bar…”
Oh. My. God.
“So, I apologize. And I’d like to introduce you to the lady in question.” Suddenly he calls out, “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet a friend.”
A small blonde cocker spaniel rushes up to him, stumpy tail wagging excitedly.
I’m so embarrassed. “So what you said…they knew you were talking about a dog.”
“Nope. They drew the same conclusion you did.” He’s on his knees beside the dog, feeding her a bit of his pretzel.
I kneel beside them.
“She’s so little. How old is she?”
“About four years old. She was malnourished as a puppy so she never did grow much.” He looks fierce for a moment. “A friend and I found her. We shared custody up until…but he, uh, he passed away. Now she’s mine.” His voice has gone soft.
The little dog jumped up, giving him a slobbering kiss before stealing the rest of his pretzel.
He looks at me and gives me a surprisingly shy grin. “I just didn’t want you to have the wrong idea about me. I’m kind of hoping to sit in your section again - better service.”
I can’t help but laugh as I tell him I have to go. “Thanks. For the pretzel and the introduction to your lady friend.”
He suddenly shifts into lady’s man mode. “I’m Mike, by the way. What’s your name?”
I just smile, wave and keep going. But I am kind of hoping he’ll turn up Friday night.
I bet he tips big.
----- -- -----
It sounds like something out of the ‘X-Files.’ The one with thousands upon thousands of bees buzzing and droning everywhere.
Of course, this is real life not…Holy Hannah. That guy looks like Frohicke.
An all-night ‘X-Files’ marathon has obviously done something to my brain. Taking a fortifying swig of cola, I grab hold of my reality and hurry to meet my friends.
Go-carts. Go figure. I’m here to cheer on my cousin’s boyfriend in some kind of charity race. It’s not my thing, but it is family. Hands in pocket, I make sure earplugs are at the ready.
Looking around for Jay’s cart and pit crew, I’m amazed at the age range of participants. A loud shout draws my attention to one of the pit crews.
I find myself staring at one of the rowdy crew members. He looks familiar. It’s the meatloaf guy. I almost didn’t recognize him. Man, he looks different. Plaid shirt, jeans, hair tousled, and a huge smile.
Wow.
I watch him for a minute, trying not to be too obvious about it. I can just hear some of the words as they horse around. Him and this Lewis guy seem pretty tight. And the sad guy is sure happy right now. He looks a lot younger, too.
He takes off his shades for a moment and looks right at me, waving. I give a small wave back and start walking again, embarrassed at being caught staring.
Those eyes. Even from here I can see the difference in him. There’s something about that direct, open look - very attractive, kind of sexy. If anyone could have a shot at convincing me to bat for the other team, I bet it’d be him.
A shrill whistle catches my attention. It’s my cousin’s boyfriend. I hurry over to them.
When the next group of racers gets into position, I look back at the mystery man. He’s wriggling that huge frame into the driver’s seat - looking so damn awkward it’s actually cute.
He looks up and sees me watching. He grins, gives me a thumbs-up and then slides his visor into place, all business.
The droning of a thousand bees sounds again as the drivers rev their engines. I can’t help but think that, win or lose, that guy is already a winner. At least for today.
----- -- -----
“Personally, I’ve always been more of a Trixie Belden girl. I’m not really sure why,” says my dinner date.
Okay, not really a date, not in the romantic sense. But still, she’s hot and I’ll take what I can get.
“Yeah, she’s totally underrated and under appreciated.”
A comment about the Harry Potter series led to sharing our favorite childhood books.
The conversation moves on and I’m amazed at the intellect of this woman. She doesn’t show off her smarts. It’s just there, subtle and easily overlooked because it’s just part of who she is.
We met for coffee a few times after yoga, which is when I found out she’s a detective. I also found out that Alex has a wicked sense of humor. She is quite possibly the queen of snark.
Listening to her talk, I suddenly find myself focusing more on watching her lips than listening to her words. My responses are a little vague, and she gives me this look, like maybe she knows where my mind has gone.
I blush, but laugh with her when she calls me on it.
Yup. I’ve got a serious crush on this woman. If only…
I’ve flirted with her, and much to my delight, she didn’t shoot me down. In my more optimistic moments, I think maybe she’s flirting back. However, I get the feeling Alex is not on the market.
She doesn’t talk about work much, but when she does there’s a quality to her voice when she talks about her partner. It makes me think *partner*, rather than just partner.
As the evening winds down, I’m sorry that it has to end.
I’m heading for the bus when she calls me back. “Want a ride?”
Not wanting to impose, I assure her I’m fine.
“No trouble. And it’s pretty late.”
I can’t resist that smile. “Okay. Where are you parked?”
She gestures vaguely down a side street. “My place. I walked.”
Oh. My brain hiccups and my belly does a slow rollercoaster swoop. “Um. If you’re sure…”
She gives me that grin, and we head off down the street.
While we chat, I keep telling myself that she really is just giving a friend a lift. And that she obviously has a thing for her *male* partner.
I don’t mind. Well, not too much. I just really like her company.
----- -- -----
“Welcome back.”
I look up and smile at the man in front of me. I feel as though I am seeing him for the first time. Some of that must have shown on my face.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I’m not sure how to answer, so I busy myself getting his coffee and bagel, stalling while I decided what to say.
He’s still waiting for an answer. I can tell because he’s taken a seat at the counter and is watching me.
“My sister had an accident last weekend.”
“I take it things were pretty bad?”
“Still are, actually. She’ll be okay, eventually.” It takes an effort to pour the coffee without spilling. “She was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh. That’s not what I meant. The accident induced premature labor. I have a niece…”
He’s just sitting there, waiting for me to continue. He’s so patient.
“She’s so tiny. The doctor says she may not make it.”
“Medical science has come a long way, you know.”
“I know. But I think it’s the other thing that’ll make the difference.”
“What other thing?”
He hands me a twenty and I ring in the sale.
“The doctor says touch is very important. I’ve held her hand and rubbed her back - you know, through those openings in the incubator? I’m scared to hold her, but any touch is supposed to be helpful.”
“I’ve read about that. Your niece is lucky to have you.”
“Well, it’s not just me. The night nurse said there are volunteers who cuddle the babies, giving them that contact and love.”
I come back with the change, but don’t offer it right away.
“Those are the people who will get her through this,” I say. “The ones who come in at night and hold her, sing to her and tell her stories about a terrier named Pickles.”
He looks at me in shock. As our eye meet I see him as he was the night before, holding my niece in his arms, telling her some silly story. I’d left without saying anything because I didn’t want to interrupt.
The nurse told me that “Jimmy” stopped in every so often to cuddle the preemies. It had something to do with one of his own children.
All I knew - and know - is that she looked safe and loved. I told the nurse I’d drop in some time today for my turn.
The spell is broken when someone calls for more coffee.
As I place the change into his hand, I say, “I hope these special people know how much they are appreciated.”
His fingers gently close over mine, squeezing gently before letting go. He grabs his coffee and bagel and stands up. Smiling at me, he simply says “They do.”
The morning flies by, and before I know it, I’m out the door and heading to class. Strangely, I feel invigorated rather than rushed.
That bodes well for the week, I think.
--FIN--
:is excited to have finished this::