NaNoWriMo Chapter 3 (part 1)
Title: Untitled -- {If anyone knows a title, let me know.}
Author: verite_knight
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3717
Warnings: Language.
Summary: The clues did not add up. She was never suspected to commit a crime. He believed that she was being framed. He did not realize that she was with another man. The team in meetings told him it was her, but he did not listen.
October 31, 2007, Austin, Texas - Cristinia James’s Point of View
It was hilarious to see my rather muscular boyfriend who stood nearly six feet tall, and weighing nearly two hundred and eighty pounds wearing a clown outfit. Ah, the joys of Halloween. I looked in the mirror as I picked up the last piece of hair that I was going to curl to complete my own outfit - a twenties flapper. As I released the hair, it sprung into a curl, that fell around my face.
I felt his hands on my open back, as he kissed the side of my neck.
"Cristinia . . . mmm. . . do we have to leave and go to this party?" He asked me, with his eyes closed, and his fingers working their way into my back.
"Brandon . . . of course. It is your work's holiday Halloween party." I smiled at him, as I put away the curling iron, and picked up my makeup.
"We could just not show up. I would like to show you how much I missed you and how much I hate that you are living in Houston." He mumbles, now nibbling on my neck. I clasped my hands behind his neck, and turned my head slightly to kiss him on the cheek.
"C'mon. We need to get going. Since I have no idea where exactly this party is, you are going to be driving." I looked at him, as he attempted to adjust himself without me noticing. Sadly, I saw, and chuckled resumed putting on the little bits of makeup I needed.
"Cris . . when are you moving up here?" He asked me as he picked up his toothbrush.
I picked up all my makeup pieces and threw all of them back into my bag, and looked at him. His hazel coloured eyes twinkled at me, waiting for an answer. As my eyes flickered to my reflection in the mirror, I realised that I had forgotten my bright red lipstick. I quickly moved into his bedroom, and fished for my lipstick in my purse.
"Alright. . . I take it that you do not want to talk about it?" At least, I think that is what he said. His words were a little garbled due to the toothbrush in his mouth.
"Brandon. You are right, I do not want to talk about it. Do not push the issue tonight. We are here to have fun. It has been too long since I have seen you." I said as I poked my head out of the bedroom.
"Fine, Cris. Just remember whose car you will be taking?" I laughed.
"Maybe on the way home, we could. . . role play a little? I think I have been a bad girl, Officer." I was surprised that I said that with a straight face.
"Yes, you have been, Ms. James. I caught you being indecent for the public while you were reading your book in the window." He said at me, grinning as he picked up his cowboy hat.
"I was fully clothed. Surely I have no idea what you are referring to." Okay, this was kind of creepy. This was the first time that I was able to keep a straight face this long.
"I believe you are lying to me. I will have to show you what I do to bad girls, Ms. James." He said, as we both walked out of his apartment door, and I waited for him to lock his apartment door. Within a minute, he joined me, and we were walking down the hill towards his car.
I have to say, that was one thing that I seriously did like living in Houston. I did not have to worry about hills, especially when I was wearing four inch hills. I looked for his cruiser, and looked at him, confused when I did not see it.
"I did something special for you. No cruiser today." He said, as he took the lead. He clasped an arm around my waist and guided me down about a block west of South Congress. Did I mention that Brandon lives on South Congress in Austin, Texas, where it is probably one of the busiest streets?
Finally, we get to a car. . . although, he was not lying. It definitely is not his cruiser. Instead I am looking at a new, black, Acura MDX. I looked at him. . .
"Did you buy this?" I gasped as we walked around to the passenger side door.
"It is brand new. I have wanted a personal car that was not my cruiser, for quite some time." He said, smiling. As he helped me into the car, that was when I actually had time to look around the car.
The interior was crisp grey leather, and it had the new car smell still. I looked at the speedometer, and realized that he was not joking. The car only had seventy eight miles on it!
"I take it that you like it?" He asked as he got in. As he put the key into the ignition, he waited for the car to warm up a little. Another thing that I hated about Austin, was the fact that if you did have an apartment, anywhere in the city, that there was very little chance of getting a curbside parking.
"It is gorgeous, Brandon. When exactly did you get it? I saw that it has the temporary plates still. . ." I trailed off, as we had started moving, making a left onto South Congress, going north into downtown Austin.
"I bought it, two days ago." He looked at the radio, gestured to it, and then grasped my left hand and drove one handed. I fiddled with the radio before finding a station that I really wanted to listen to, knowing that he really disliked most of the mainstream music, but knew that he could deal with some pop. As I found the radio station, I watched as Brandon drove the car towards our destination.
I noticed that we really had gone through downtown, and we were headed up north. I looked at him again, watching his left hand as he drove. The way his knuckles clutched the steering wheel, his palm whenever he turned gracefully slid across his palm, and yet for this being a new car to him, he did not jerk it like most did. I guess that is where those seventy miles had come from: him getting use to the car.
"You know. . .this is a big step for you. I thought you would have never gotten rid of your cruiser." I joked as he picked up my hand and kissed it as we were stopped at a red light.
"I told you awhile ago that I wanted one. Although, the department begins their new policy on January first. They are going to start charging us for any mileage that we put on the cars that is not work related."
"How can they even do that?"
"Quite easy. They are the ones that are doing the oil changes, now. Thankfully, we do not have to do those anymore."
"And. . . if they have to do it more than every three months, then you are going to get charged? How will they even know that?"
"According to Jen. . . the supervisors were told that we were required once a month to record the mileage. The assistants would then calculate the difference. Not to mention, we are also required to submit daily increases in mileages."
"Are you kidding me? That is. . wow. . . our tax money at work, great."
"Do not be like that Cris. I love my job; I love you. Why can I not combine the two together?" He looked at me, before we pulled into a development where he had to decrease his speed drastically.
"Brandon, please do not start this now. I have to be around your co-workers. Although I am curious, just how did you get tonight off?" I looked at him, before I pulled down the sun visor and opened up the mirror as I checked my makeup.
"Cris, that is just like you. You go off and change the subject, every time that you hate talking about something. Two can play at that game, you know that. However, I got tonight off because I switched shifts with Xu - Daniel Xu - who is working tonight. I will be working a twenty-four hour shift tomorrow for him." He said, as his car and we crawled around the corner, making sure that he did not hit any children that were running away.
"And you just now waited until we were here, to tell me that my last day that you are going to be working? What the hell, Brandon? I am not in town that often and yet you have to spend it working?" I flipped the sun visor up, with quite a force showing how angry I was. I looked at Brandon, and then let out a sigh.
Brandon did not even try to say anything, which was strange. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes, and he was concentrating while looking at the numbers on the doors or curbs.
"What number are we looking for?" I mumbled, trying to let go the anger.
"Thirteen eighty eight." He said, and groaned before saying. "It will be on your side, but we are on the wrong side. This is decreasing in numbers." I shook my head slightly, as he pulled up into a driveway. Brandon did always have a way with numbers, and at times he was way too logical.
As we completed the turn around, I kept my eyes concentrated on the numbers, but I guess when you see nearly ten cop cars in the driveway, with their lights off, and probably another thirty five other cars, it is fairly easy to see that it is a party, right?
I reached in the back seat, behind Brandon, grabbed my shawl and threw it over my shoulders. As I put on my shawl, Brandon had turned the car off, gotten out and had walked over to my door. He waited until I was situated, opened up the door, and then stuck his hand out to help me out of the car. As I got out, he pulled me into a sideways hug, gave me a kiss, and mumbled something incoherently.
As we walked hand in hand to the door, we could tell that the noise was getting louder. I looked at Brandon, stopping before we actually got the house. I gave him a quick, on the lips, and mummbled a quick, "I love you" before we broke apart.
He looked at me, and pulled me closer to him as I rang the doorbell. It was rather chilly today, for it being Halloween. Suddenly the door opened and I saw Officer Jacqueline Brady wearing a rather. . . um . . revealing costume of a nurse standing there.
"Come on in, y'all. No need to stand out in the cold. There is food in the kitchen, munchies, if you want any. The coke is in the coolers, sitting in ice. The alcohol is in the fridge in the garage if you want any. Everyone else is wandering throughout the house. Make yourself at home." I looked at her, and smiled weakly. I felt like a stranger at these events, considering I would be left alone in probably half an hour, and my night would conclude with Brandon and half of these people being called in to work, regardless that they were probably drunk or even tipsy, which would require one of his co-worker's partners to drive me back to his apartment, in South Austin.
“Brady. . . you do know that we are here every. . . year right?” Brandon chuckled as he was taking in her outfit for probably the first time tonight.
“Of course, Matthews. I just wanted to remind your girlfriend, who probably has forgotten. It is definitely not every day that I get to see her!” Do not get me wrong, I like her, but seriously hated these types of events. No one here ever talked like a normal person, which meant we were all referenced to by our last names. Normally that would not be bad, until no one could remember my last name, and I would end up being Matthews’ girlfriend. Annoyances, considering I knew all of their last names.
I finally got away from Brady - I mean - Jacqueline and found a spot on the couch. I saw two guys sitting on the couch, talking about the music being played.
“Seriously . . this party sucks for music. I mean, who plays. . . Eddy Grant with the Electric Avenue, Outkast with Hey Ya and Arthea Franklin with Respect? This place needs something better. . . more. . .” He was lost for the word, but from his breath I could tell that he had been drinking for quite some time.
“Well. . Brady did say that her eighty gigabyte iPod Classic was available for us to go ruffle through. I am sure that we could find something, more upbeat.” The second person added in. Was this sad, I had no idea who these two men were. I guessed that they were unaware of my presence, until they stood up.
“You are a foxy thing. . . who are you and where do you work?” The first guy asked me while his friend disappeared towards the iPod, I guess.
“I am taken, and I do not live in Austin.” That was all that I said, and the guy decided that I was not worth it as he turned around and started yelling that Prince with his song When Doves Cry was not party music.
I watched him walk, and begin to interact with several other people. That is when I recognized who it was . . wow, Officer Richard Gaines changed when he was drunk. Interesting. However, deep down I really hoped that he would not come back around to me.
After several minutes of sitting on the couch, I was feeling like a drink, so I got up, hoping that my spot would not be taken by some random people deciding that a couch was the great place to go make out or even worse decide that it was their bed to make love on.
As I remembered my way towards the garage, and saw that of course it was not an attached garage. The pathway was not really lit, so I hoped that I would not fall into anything or step on anything, considering my shoes were under the kitchen table next to my purse. I did have to admit, that was the nice thing about partying with police officers. . . you did not have to worry about your purse going missing, or even the contents. Every officer, even if you could not see it, was hiding a gun somewhere on their person.
As I got to the garage, I peered around and immediately found the fridge, but how to get there, was the next part. The garage was not the thing that was kept clean, in fact it seemed like it was the junk room, and except for the only thing here were tools that were lying around.
I maneuvered around the tools on the floor; I finally got to the fridge, and opened the door. Laughing to myself, as I peered around seeing many options from Heineken, Dos Equis Lite, Bud Lite, Miller Lite, and Samuel Adams the original Boston Lager. I grabbed two Bud Lites, hoping that I would not have to walk back out here, and made my way back towards the house.
I opened the side door, into the kitchen and walked over towards the coolers. I peered around the coolers for a bottle opener, before looking at the bottles themselves. So, it seems that Bud changed their tips again, as they were screw-tops. I spotted a lime, and cut the half of a line in fourths, and dropped a piece of lime in each bottle.
As I watched the limes slowly descend towards the bottom of the bottle. As the lime fell, the alcohol released some carbonation. I chuckled slightly, and walked out of the kitchen. It seemed that people were slowly calming down.
As I found myself walking into the living room, I found many of the officers kissing or hanging out with other people not in their division. I also saw three officers parked on the loveseat, discussing something. . I would assume work? However, I never saw Brandon, which was not much of a concern until I saw Jen.
Her short, brown hair was tucked behind her ears. God, she was wearing that smirk, that I hated, and it showed on her fact that she hated me.
"James. I did not think that you were going to be here." She smiled too sweetly at me.
"So. . . how are you?" I asked her, while taking a sip of my beer. Okay, so it was not quite a sip, but it was a nice gulp.
"I am good. Listen, why are things so. . .um. . . I do not know the word between us. . . “She mumbled trailing off.
"Awkward?" I supplied for her. Hopefully, we would actually talk through this. . . random grudge, one which I could not actually tell you why she was holding one.
"Yeah. . ." Jen said as she trailed off, looking very unlike the Jen that I know from the station. She was the rock that leads the team: she reminded her boss of things that he needed to do and she also kept the boys of the team with work. Also, she was a rather level-headed when it came to cases, often looking at things that in a different perspective and somehow managed to remember the small details that her team often did not.
"Jen. . . What happened between us?" She looked at me, and decided to take a seat on the ottoman. I looked around at the living room, and took a seat on the sofa which allowed me to watch the hallway to the downstairs bedroom, the stairs that led upstairs and also watch her expressions.
"Honestly, I have no idea, James." Her brown eyes looked at the contents on the coffee table between us. She was eyeing the opened once, second beer that I had brought in from the garage.
"Call me Cris. I am not one of your teammates, no need to call me by my last name. Also, you can have that." I nodded towards the beer. She picked it up, and unscrewed the cap, and took a large gulp.
"Cristinia. . . I knew what your name is. I just. . . cannot use it. I have known you for much longer than anyone else has, your boyfriend included." She smiled at me, as she put her beer on the coffee table.
"Why do you insist using my last name?" I was shocked. Did she think that I was stupid because I did not go to a college, and graduate with some fancy paper?
"It is part of the job that I have become accustomed to. Surely you can understand that?"
"I suppose. Jen, we knew each other from elementary through high school.”
Jen met my gaze, before her eyes flickered down towards her beer. She picked it up, with relative ease, and finished her beer. She placed the glass bottle back on the coffee table and stood up as she said:
"You know, I never hated you. I am actually jealous of your relationship, but I would not want to trade places with you."
"What does that mean, Jen?" I stood up, and grasped her hand.
"I have heard about you not going to college; your parents throwing you out of their house after graduation; your inability to hold a steady job. I do not envy you for your life and hardships, but I want Matthews for myself." She jerked her hand from me, and walked away from me. I looked at my beer, and downed the rest of it.
Looking at the bottom of the bottle, I never saw Brandon walk down the stairs. As he reached the stairs, he walked over to me, and it was not until I saw his cowboy boots in my vision. He cupped my face, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Hey baby, how are you?" He whispered to me.
"Good. I just saw Jen." I replied, as I picked up her empty beer bottle and walked into the kitchen to throw the bottles out.
As I was caught in the midst of my thoughts, mulling over what Jen had just said, I never heard the two suited up officers talking to Brandon about something. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something, er rather, someone running towards the two cruisers that were parked on the curb.
As soon as the car's engine was in the accessory mode, the tricolored lights were flashing. I moved to the bay window in the dining room and tried to see who was out there. Realizing that I was not going to be able to see anyone, I moved into the living room, and saw everyone standing around, staring at each other. I did a quick headcount, knowing that there were only twelve people on the team, thirteen if you included Jen. There was only a possible of twenty-six people, if all thirteen showed up with dates. A quick head count of the room showed that there were twenty-three, myself included.
I noticed that the two officers who were dressed up were gone, and. . who was the last? I scanned the room and realized that it was Brandon with them. I fished my cell phone out of my pocket, glanced at the outer screen and saw there was no message. I felt someone’s' hand on my shoulder and then felt their hot breath against my ear.
Back to Chapter 2 part 2
Contiune onto Chapter 3 part 2
Author: verite_knight
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3717
Warnings: Language.
Summary: The clues did not add up. She was never suspected to commit a crime. He believed that she was being framed. He did not realize that she was with another man. The team in meetings told him it was her, but he did not listen.
October 31, 2007, Austin, Texas - Cristinia James’s Point of View
It was hilarious to see my rather muscular boyfriend who stood nearly six feet tall, and weighing nearly two hundred and eighty pounds wearing a clown outfit. Ah, the joys of Halloween. I looked in the mirror as I picked up the last piece of hair that I was going to curl to complete my own outfit - a twenties flapper. As I released the hair, it sprung into a curl, that fell around my face.
I felt his hands on my open back, as he kissed the side of my neck.
"Cristinia . . . mmm. . . do we have to leave and go to this party?" He asked me, with his eyes closed, and his fingers working their way into my back.
"Brandon . . . of course. It is your work's holiday Halloween party." I smiled at him, as I put away the curling iron, and picked up my makeup.
"We could just not show up. I would like to show you how much I missed you and how much I hate that you are living in Houston." He mumbles, now nibbling on my neck. I clasped my hands behind his neck, and turned my head slightly to kiss him on the cheek.
"C'mon. We need to get going. Since I have no idea where exactly this party is, you are going to be driving." I looked at him, as he attempted to adjust himself without me noticing. Sadly, I saw, and chuckled resumed putting on the little bits of makeup I needed.
"Cris . . when are you moving up here?" He asked me as he picked up his toothbrush.
I picked up all my makeup pieces and threw all of them back into my bag, and looked at him. His hazel coloured eyes twinkled at me, waiting for an answer. As my eyes flickered to my reflection in the mirror, I realised that I had forgotten my bright red lipstick. I quickly moved into his bedroom, and fished for my lipstick in my purse.
"Alright. . . I take it that you do not want to talk about it?" At least, I think that is what he said. His words were a little garbled due to the toothbrush in his mouth.
"Brandon. You are right, I do not want to talk about it. Do not push the issue tonight. We are here to have fun. It has been too long since I have seen you." I said as I poked my head out of the bedroom.
"Fine, Cris. Just remember whose car you will be taking?" I laughed.
"Maybe on the way home, we could. . . role play a little? I think I have been a bad girl, Officer." I was surprised that I said that with a straight face.
"Yes, you have been, Ms. James. I caught you being indecent for the public while you were reading your book in the window." He said at me, grinning as he picked up his cowboy hat.
"I was fully clothed. Surely I have no idea what you are referring to." Okay, this was kind of creepy. This was the first time that I was able to keep a straight face this long.
"I believe you are lying to me. I will have to show you what I do to bad girls, Ms. James." He said, as we both walked out of his apartment door, and I waited for him to lock his apartment door. Within a minute, he joined me, and we were walking down the hill towards his car.
I have to say, that was one thing that I seriously did like living in Houston. I did not have to worry about hills, especially when I was wearing four inch hills. I looked for his cruiser, and looked at him, confused when I did not see it.
"I did something special for you. No cruiser today." He said, as he took the lead. He clasped an arm around my waist and guided me down about a block west of South Congress. Did I mention that Brandon lives on South Congress in Austin, Texas, where it is probably one of the busiest streets?
Finally, we get to a car. . . although, he was not lying. It definitely is not his cruiser. Instead I am looking at a new, black, Acura MDX. I looked at him. . .
"Did you buy this?" I gasped as we walked around to the passenger side door.
"It is brand new. I have wanted a personal car that was not my cruiser, for quite some time." He said, smiling. As he helped me into the car, that was when I actually had time to look around the car.
The interior was crisp grey leather, and it had the new car smell still. I looked at the speedometer, and realized that he was not joking. The car only had seventy eight miles on it!
"I take it that you like it?" He asked as he got in. As he put the key into the ignition, he waited for the car to warm up a little. Another thing that I hated about Austin, was the fact that if you did have an apartment, anywhere in the city, that there was very little chance of getting a curbside parking.
"It is gorgeous, Brandon. When exactly did you get it? I saw that it has the temporary plates still. . ." I trailed off, as we had started moving, making a left onto South Congress, going north into downtown Austin.
"I bought it, two days ago." He looked at the radio, gestured to it, and then grasped my left hand and drove one handed. I fiddled with the radio before finding a station that I really wanted to listen to, knowing that he really disliked most of the mainstream music, but knew that he could deal with some pop. As I found the radio station, I watched as Brandon drove the car towards our destination.
I noticed that we really had gone through downtown, and we were headed up north. I looked at him again, watching his left hand as he drove. The way his knuckles clutched the steering wheel, his palm whenever he turned gracefully slid across his palm, and yet for this being a new car to him, he did not jerk it like most did. I guess that is where those seventy miles had come from: him getting use to the car.
"You know. . .this is a big step for you. I thought you would have never gotten rid of your cruiser." I joked as he picked up my hand and kissed it as we were stopped at a red light.
"I told you awhile ago that I wanted one. Although, the department begins their new policy on January first. They are going to start charging us for any mileage that we put on the cars that is not work related."
"How can they even do that?"
"Quite easy. They are the ones that are doing the oil changes, now. Thankfully, we do not have to do those anymore."
"And. . . if they have to do it more than every three months, then you are going to get charged? How will they even know that?"
"According to Jen. . . the supervisors were told that we were required once a month to record the mileage. The assistants would then calculate the difference. Not to mention, we are also required to submit daily increases in mileages."
"Are you kidding me? That is. . wow. . . our tax money at work, great."
"Do not be like that Cris. I love my job; I love you. Why can I not combine the two together?" He looked at me, before we pulled into a development where he had to decrease his speed drastically.
"Brandon, please do not start this now. I have to be around your co-workers. Although I am curious, just how did you get tonight off?" I looked at him, before I pulled down the sun visor and opened up the mirror as I checked my makeup.
"Cris, that is just like you. You go off and change the subject, every time that you hate talking about something. Two can play at that game, you know that. However, I got tonight off because I switched shifts with Xu - Daniel Xu - who is working tonight. I will be working a twenty-four hour shift tomorrow for him." He said, as his car and we crawled around the corner, making sure that he did not hit any children that were running away.
"And you just now waited until we were here, to tell me that my last day that you are going to be working? What the hell, Brandon? I am not in town that often and yet you have to spend it working?" I flipped the sun visor up, with quite a force showing how angry I was. I looked at Brandon, and then let out a sigh.
Brandon did not even try to say anything, which was strange. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes, and he was concentrating while looking at the numbers on the doors or curbs.
"What number are we looking for?" I mumbled, trying to let go the anger.
"Thirteen eighty eight." He said, and groaned before saying. "It will be on your side, but we are on the wrong side. This is decreasing in numbers." I shook my head slightly, as he pulled up into a driveway. Brandon did always have a way with numbers, and at times he was way too logical.
As we completed the turn around, I kept my eyes concentrated on the numbers, but I guess when you see nearly ten cop cars in the driveway, with their lights off, and probably another thirty five other cars, it is fairly easy to see that it is a party, right?
I reached in the back seat, behind Brandon, grabbed my shawl and threw it over my shoulders. As I put on my shawl, Brandon had turned the car off, gotten out and had walked over to my door. He waited until I was situated, opened up the door, and then stuck his hand out to help me out of the car. As I got out, he pulled me into a sideways hug, gave me a kiss, and mumbled something incoherently.
As we walked hand in hand to the door, we could tell that the noise was getting louder. I looked at Brandon, stopping before we actually got the house. I gave him a quick, on the lips, and mummbled a quick, "I love you" before we broke apart.
He looked at me, and pulled me closer to him as I rang the doorbell. It was rather chilly today, for it being Halloween. Suddenly the door opened and I saw Officer Jacqueline Brady wearing a rather. . . um . . revealing costume of a nurse standing there.
"Come on in, y'all. No need to stand out in the cold. There is food in the kitchen, munchies, if you want any. The coke is in the coolers, sitting in ice. The alcohol is in the fridge in the garage if you want any. Everyone else is wandering throughout the house. Make yourself at home." I looked at her, and smiled weakly. I felt like a stranger at these events, considering I would be left alone in probably half an hour, and my night would conclude with Brandon and half of these people being called in to work, regardless that they were probably drunk or even tipsy, which would require one of his co-worker's partners to drive me back to his apartment, in South Austin.
“Brady. . . you do know that we are here every. . . year right?” Brandon chuckled as he was taking in her outfit for probably the first time tonight.
“Of course, Matthews. I just wanted to remind your girlfriend, who probably has forgotten. It is definitely not every day that I get to see her!” Do not get me wrong, I like her, but seriously hated these types of events. No one here ever talked like a normal person, which meant we were all referenced to by our last names. Normally that would not be bad, until no one could remember my last name, and I would end up being Matthews’ girlfriend. Annoyances, considering I knew all of their last names.
I finally got away from Brady - I mean - Jacqueline and found a spot on the couch. I saw two guys sitting on the couch, talking about the music being played.
“Seriously . . this party sucks for music. I mean, who plays. . . Eddy Grant with the Electric Avenue, Outkast with Hey Ya and Arthea Franklin with Respect? This place needs something better. . . more. . .” He was lost for the word, but from his breath I could tell that he had been drinking for quite some time.
“Well. . Brady did say that her eighty gigabyte iPod Classic was available for us to go ruffle through. I am sure that we could find something, more upbeat.” The second person added in. Was this sad, I had no idea who these two men were. I guessed that they were unaware of my presence, until they stood up.
“You are a foxy thing. . . who are you and where do you work?” The first guy asked me while his friend disappeared towards the iPod, I guess.
“I am taken, and I do not live in Austin.” That was all that I said, and the guy decided that I was not worth it as he turned around and started yelling that Prince with his song When Doves Cry was not party music.
I watched him walk, and begin to interact with several other people. That is when I recognized who it was . . wow, Officer Richard Gaines changed when he was drunk. Interesting. However, deep down I really hoped that he would not come back around to me.
After several minutes of sitting on the couch, I was feeling like a drink, so I got up, hoping that my spot would not be taken by some random people deciding that a couch was the great place to go make out or even worse decide that it was their bed to make love on.
As I remembered my way towards the garage, and saw that of course it was not an attached garage. The pathway was not really lit, so I hoped that I would not fall into anything or step on anything, considering my shoes were under the kitchen table next to my purse. I did have to admit, that was the nice thing about partying with police officers. . . you did not have to worry about your purse going missing, or even the contents. Every officer, even if you could not see it, was hiding a gun somewhere on their person.
As I got to the garage, I peered around and immediately found the fridge, but how to get there, was the next part. The garage was not the thing that was kept clean, in fact it seemed like it was the junk room, and except for the only thing here were tools that were lying around.
I maneuvered around the tools on the floor; I finally got to the fridge, and opened the door. Laughing to myself, as I peered around seeing many options from Heineken, Dos Equis Lite, Bud Lite, Miller Lite, and Samuel Adams the original Boston Lager. I grabbed two Bud Lites, hoping that I would not have to walk back out here, and made my way back towards the house.
I opened the side door, into the kitchen and walked over towards the coolers. I peered around the coolers for a bottle opener, before looking at the bottles themselves. So, it seems that Bud changed their tips again, as they were screw-tops. I spotted a lime, and cut the half of a line in fourths, and dropped a piece of lime in each bottle.
As I watched the limes slowly descend towards the bottom of the bottle. As the lime fell, the alcohol released some carbonation. I chuckled slightly, and walked out of the kitchen. It seemed that people were slowly calming down.
As I found myself walking into the living room, I found many of the officers kissing or hanging out with other people not in their division. I also saw three officers parked on the loveseat, discussing something. . I would assume work? However, I never saw Brandon, which was not much of a concern until I saw Jen.
Her short, brown hair was tucked behind her ears. God, she was wearing that smirk, that I hated, and it showed on her fact that she hated me.
"James. I did not think that you were going to be here." She smiled too sweetly at me.
"So. . . how are you?" I asked her, while taking a sip of my beer. Okay, so it was not quite a sip, but it was a nice gulp.
"I am good. Listen, why are things so. . .um. . . I do not know the word between us. . . “She mumbled trailing off.
"Awkward?" I supplied for her. Hopefully, we would actually talk through this. . . random grudge, one which I could not actually tell you why she was holding one.
"Yeah. . ." Jen said as she trailed off, looking very unlike the Jen that I know from the station. She was the rock that leads the team: she reminded her boss of things that he needed to do and she also kept the boys of the team with work. Also, she was a rather level-headed when it came to cases, often looking at things that in a different perspective and somehow managed to remember the small details that her team often did not.
"Jen. . . What happened between us?" She looked at me, and decided to take a seat on the ottoman. I looked around at the living room, and took a seat on the sofa which allowed me to watch the hallway to the downstairs bedroom, the stairs that led upstairs and also watch her expressions.
"Honestly, I have no idea, James." Her brown eyes looked at the contents on the coffee table between us. She was eyeing the opened once, second beer that I had brought in from the garage.
"Call me Cris. I am not one of your teammates, no need to call me by my last name. Also, you can have that." I nodded towards the beer. She picked it up, and unscrewed the cap, and took a large gulp.
"Cristinia. . . I knew what your name is. I just. . . cannot use it. I have known you for much longer than anyone else has, your boyfriend included." She smiled at me, as she put her beer on the coffee table.
"Why do you insist using my last name?" I was shocked. Did she think that I was stupid because I did not go to a college, and graduate with some fancy paper?
"It is part of the job that I have become accustomed to. Surely you can understand that?"
"I suppose. Jen, we knew each other from elementary through high school.”
Jen met my gaze, before her eyes flickered down towards her beer. She picked it up, with relative ease, and finished her beer. She placed the glass bottle back on the coffee table and stood up as she said:
"You know, I never hated you. I am actually jealous of your relationship, but I would not want to trade places with you."
"What does that mean, Jen?" I stood up, and grasped her hand.
"I have heard about you not going to college; your parents throwing you out of their house after graduation; your inability to hold a steady job. I do not envy you for your life and hardships, but I want Matthews for myself." She jerked her hand from me, and walked away from me. I looked at my beer, and downed the rest of it.
Looking at the bottom of the bottle, I never saw Brandon walk down the stairs. As he reached the stairs, he walked over to me, and it was not until I saw his cowboy boots in my vision. He cupped my face, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.
"Hey baby, how are you?" He whispered to me.
"Good. I just saw Jen." I replied, as I picked up her empty beer bottle and walked into the kitchen to throw the bottles out.
As I was caught in the midst of my thoughts, mulling over what Jen had just said, I never heard the two suited up officers talking to Brandon about something. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something, er rather, someone running towards the two cruisers that were parked on the curb.
As soon as the car's engine was in the accessory mode, the tricolored lights were flashing. I moved to the bay window in the dining room and tried to see who was out there. Realizing that I was not going to be able to see anyone, I moved into the living room, and saw everyone standing around, staring at each other. I did a quick headcount, knowing that there were only twelve people on the team, thirteen if you included Jen. There was only a possible of twenty-six people, if all thirteen showed up with dates. A quick head count of the room showed that there were twenty-three, myself included.
I noticed that the two officers who were dressed up were gone, and. . who was the last? I scanned the room and realized that it was Brandon with them. I fished my cell phone out of my pocket, glanced at the outer screen and saw there was no message. I felt someone’s' hand on my shoulder and then felt their hot breath against my ear.
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Contiune onto Chapter 3 part 2