For Margo and Julia

He walked through the crowds, and melted into the background as the music and sounds of the night crowd echoed around him. Waiting most of the evening, he was finally rewarded with the voice. She was as lovely as he imagined, as he remembered.

Last night after she sang, he made an effort to stand close to her for the rest of the night. Unobtrusively being in her presence until she noticed him, at the same time taking no notice and dismissing him as a non-threat. Before the night ended, he bumped into her, but made it look like she bumped into him, spilling his drink on him.

Flustered, she ran to the bar, got a bar rag and returned to hand it to him, apologizing the entire time. Rubbing down his clothes, he assured her that he was fine, that it wasn’t a big deal. The girl returned to the bar to get him a refill of his drink that she spilled. Her voice was lovely and pure, and her skin flawless, with the health and color of youth. She was really quite lovely.

When she returned he told her that he heard her sing, that she was very talented. He watched as her eyes became weary and reserved as if he was trying to put one over on her. So he told her that he wished his wife could have heard her, that perhaps some day she would make a CD and then she could. The girl asked if his wife wasn’t with him, and he sighed a big no. Pointing at a random person in the crowd, he explained that a friend of theirs was going through a real bad time, so he was going out with him, but his wife couldn’t come.

The girl was intrigued enough to ask why. He just laughed unthreateningly and said that his wife was pregnant, expecting their third child and all the smoke and noise wasn’t good for her. The girl nodded and said she understood. He said the nicest thing was hearing her sing, that it made it worth the torture of the place that wasn’t really his scene, at least not for the last few years since he married. Then he asked her if he was dreaming it, but was every person in the room really on the make. The girl laughed and they talked, and looking at his watch he told her that she looked awfully young and to take care because there were lots of jerks out there cruising. She just laughed again and said she was protected. He excused himself for the night and said that if he got put upon again the next night he hoped that at the very least he’d get to hear her sing again.

That was last night, and tonight he set himself up in a private booth that could be seen from the stages. Making himself conspicuous, but not appearing so, he waited for her to sing. Before that he sat, not paying attention to anyone, but appeared to be listening on a cell phone to someone. But when she sang, he turned his total attention to her and then talked on the phone, and then put it down on the table holding it open, as if someone on the other end was listening to her sing. After she finished her set, he looked at his watch and timed how long it would take her to come talk to him.

“Hi?” He looked up and smiled. Discreetly grabbing his glass and moving it away from him in a move that appeared nonchalant, but was done to make it obvious to her. She nodded a raised brow at his movement, and he smiled slightly embarrassed. “I promised my wife I wouldn’t wear my drink home on me again.”

She laughed that deep rich sound, and sat in the booth across from him. “Nice of you to obey the wife.”

“Always. I figure she puts up with so much with me, that it’s the least I can do.” The phone rang on cue. Making a move of asking her forgiveness for the interruption, he answered the phone. “Hi, honey. No, no I lost him, but he’s in the crowd. Are you sure? Oh please God, I hope so. No, I made a friend. Yes, the young singer I let you listen to, she is promising not to redecorate my clothes with my Tom Collins. I will, absolutely. Hmm, let me see,” he looked at the girl searchingly and then spoke in the phone again, “nineteen?” The girl shook her head no, amused. “Younger?” She nodded. “I would say younger than nineteen, and drinking...” Looking at her drink, he hazarded a guess, “A cola.” She beamed at him. He talked for a few more minutes and after telling his wife he loved her and hoped to get out of there before bartime, hung up.

“Your wife calls you all the time while you’re hitting the bars.”

He laughed. “Normally, no. Mostly she comes with me, but in her delicate condition, I begged her to take pity on me and at least keep me company over the phone.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet. So what was it you were hoping she was sure of?”

His faced looked confused as he recalled the conversation, and then it cleared. “Oh, my wife calls this the ‘I don’t need you to have fun, and I’m still attractive to other people stage’ of the big breakup. She was just reassuring me that soon this stage would be over, and the ‘self pity, now I have to date’ stage would begin, which usually involves quieter bars and crying into beers. A light at the end of this tunnel of loud music and sweating bodies.”

She laughed. “Well since I doused you last night, and am sharing a booth with you tonight, I should introduce myself. I’m Krystal.”

He held out his hand and took hers in a friendly non-threatening shake. “Kevin, but actually,” he leaned in as to tell her a secret. “It’s really Ernest. Kevin is my second name, but I just couldn’t abide...Ernest. It sounds so, so...”

“Trustworthy?”

He laughed. “It’s a wonder I ever got married. I remember seeing ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’ when I was younger and knew my name doomed me, so I promptly switched to my middle name in self preservation.”

She laughed. “I love that play! Oscar Wilde is my favorite.”

“Mine, too! My wife adored ‘The Ideal Husband’. Personally I think all the cases of mistaken identity are where the hoot is.” She laughed and they sat sipping on their drinks talking literature and plays and about her music.

The first rule of engagement of the prey is to always appear unassuming, and harmless. Let the hunted come to you, so at no time the instinctual feelings of being hunted engage and alert them. Tomorrow might be the night.

~~~

Alex looked up from his paper work at the bar when she sat down on a barstool. Frowning, he could hear the after closing party still going strong in the back room. Looking at the beautiful girl, he smiled.

“You tired, Squeak?”

She grimaced. “I can’t believe you still call me that after all these years. Come on Alex, say it...Krystal.”

“Krystal.”

She smiled at him. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

He reached over and tweaked her nose playfully. “Sorry, Squeak-a-Muffin, you’ll always be ‘Squeak’ to me.” She laughed, delighted at her older cousin’s childhood name for her. “You want another coke?”

“No! I'm coked out.” She thought about it for a second taking in Alex’s sarcastic smile. “Wow, that sounded just wrong.”

“How about a bottled water or coffee?”

“Water.” Krystal reached over and looked at what he was doing. “I thought you hated the paperwork side of running Club Hell.”

“I do, but even Jimmy has to go on vacation some times. This business doesn’t close. I’m hating myself so much right now, that I think I’ll give him a raise when he returns.” Alex leaned on the bar putting a bottle of water in front of her. “You don’t think he does this on purpose just to get me to appreciate him?”

“I would.” Krystal took a drink, and then started peeling off the label. “So...”

“So?” Alex knew what she wanted to know, but played it out.

“How am I working out? The singing?”

“A few complaints...” He laughed at her look of outrage. “That they had to listen to me instead of you.” Krystal smiled at the compliment. “So I guess you can continue to sing a set a night, as long as you follow the rules, and don’t make me regret letting you sing in my club.”

“I promise. I’ve been real good. No wandering off with strangers, no underage drinking, and always check in with everyone even when I’m using the head.” Taking a drink, she nodded. “Don’t worry, Alex. After taking six months of hard work on my side to convince you and my parents that I would be safe here, I’m not going to mess this up. This has been the greatest time of my young life.” Krystal moved in, leaning an arm on the bar. “If you could find your way to contact some of those ‘special’ people you know to come listen to me, I could be on my way to becoming the next Britney Spears.”

“No way. More like Alanis.” Alex frowned at his cousin. “Don’t be in such a hurry, Squeak. Life is for the young, but there’s so much out there, so much time to become everything. Take it slower and enjoy the time you’ve got while you’re young. It’ll never come again, and it will go faster than you realize.”

“Heard that before from...” Krystal smiled, “oh yeah, you! Chill big, big, bad cousin, I’m living in the moment, but I’m loving every minute of it. Too bad you’re not.”

Alex lit a smoke, and popped her hand when she reached to take a drag. “What you mean?”

“Well, I remember a time when my cousin was the biggest horndog around with his dirty hands up some skirt, up against the wall with little to no regard of who was watching. I’ve been singing same nights with you for over two weeks, and no one . Nada. And...” She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “Not a permanent babe in sight. You start pitching for the other side?”

“No. I’m not gay if that’s what you’re asking. Though there was this pretty guy who had the mouth of an...”

“Ewww, stop it, just stop. Too much info, cousin, and don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to shine me on. But Pete in the band said you’ve been off your oats for almost a year. What’s with that? Lovesick?”

“No.” Alex avoided her eyes. “Lifestyle sick. All the f-ucking and partying gets to be too boring after a while when it just become something you do. I’m trying to give myself something more, something righteous.”

“I understand, but geez, a celibate? Extreme much?”

Alex reached out and tweaked his cousin’s long red hair. “Just because I’m not stooping some Betty in public, and hard up against a wall doesn’t mean I’m not getting off. I just want something solid in my life, some quiet real time. I’m almost thirty, and sooner or later I knew I was gonna have to grow up, so I’m just assessing the situation.”

“Does that mean you’re hoping to find true love here?”

Alex just shook his head no. “Not here. Never here. I want something outside of this place. It’s a good business, and I love the band. But I wasn’t planning on dying a wasted, washed-out drug addict with a Courtney Love woman on my arm. Some things are worth waiting and searching for. So take heart, Squeak, and don’t sell your heart short.” Reaching over the bar, he kissed his cousin quickly on the lips and tweaked her nose again. “One heart, one life. It’s got to mean something.”

“You’re so gay!”

“’Fraid of that. Up. Let's blow this joint. Looks like I need to toss the trenders out or they’d party all night.”

“You could leave them.” Krystal said as he hit the lights in the main bar and they headed to the late night party in the back room.

“Yeah, right. And leave them to burn down my club? Nope, time for them to take this to someone’s crib and light up the bathtub crank.”

“Such a cynic.”

“You’ve got no idea.”

~~~

It was early morning when Sean woke to find Michael and Maria still sleeping in the chair together. They had stayed with him all night. Looking at the two of them fast asleep, he was amazed at how young and unconcerned they slept. He doubted his face took on that look, even in a deep rest.

”Michael?” Sean reached over in a groan and gave the man a shove. “It’s almost seven. Take her upstairs and try to get a few more hours of sleep in comfort.” Michael tried to shake the sleep off, and just nodded to Sean.

“Take your medicine.”

“Gotcha. Hey, Michael.” Sean waited for Michael to turn to him again from where he stood in the doorway, holding a sleeping Maria. “Thanks.”

“No problem. But we’re far from through with this Sean.” Sean just shrugged and sank back down into the covers, moaning from the pain. Like he didn’t know that.

~~~

The knock on his door just caught him finishing shaving for the morning. Last night was another long night of thinking about things that bothered him. Numerous times he almost picked up the phone to call Michael or talk to Maria, but he refrained. He knew that they wouldn’t be answering their calls, not on a weekend which they both had off. Next weekend was their ‘on call’ weekend, and Maria usually worked at the museum the same weekends they did.

“Tess?” Max stopped wiping the shaving cream off his face at the sight of his ex-girlfriend on his doorstep. She looked, well she looked great.

“Hi. Max...sorry to just stop by without calling. I just...well I need to talk to you.”

Max looked at her noticing how her hands were nervously twisting the shoulder strap of her purse, and how uncomfortable she appeared.

“Sure, come in.” Max stood aside and let Tess pass. He really hadn’t seen her much since she dumped him.

When they were together he barely seemed to notice her, but when she called it quits suddenly everything in his body revolted, became angry and upset. It was like owning something you never use, but one day somebody steals it, and you obsessively brood over its loss. Their entire relationship was founded on this annoying feeling of instinctively knowing each other, almost like if he could close his eyes he could remember feeling her skin against him. But something was missing. Like sparks.

Tess stood in the middle of his apartment looking confused as to what to do. Stand or sit or just leave.

“Sit down, Tess. I’ll make some coffee.”

“Actually, if you have herbal tea, that would be better. I’m off caffeine right now.”

“Herbal tea? I don’t think...”

“That’s okay. I’m not here to drink anyway.”

“Then why are you here? I thought we said everything, or you said everything there was to say over two months ago.”

“Max,” Tess’s voice held some irritation in it. “Look, I know that it was a shock and everything, and I’m sorry about that, really I am. You’re a great guy, and...”

“God, not the great guy speech again! Can we just cut to the chase and you tell me what brings you to my doorstep on a Sunday morning?”

“Okay, you’re right. There’s no easy way, so I’ll just say it, and...and then you can react.” Max nodded. Yeah there was a plan. “Okay, here it goes. I’m pregnant, and you’re the dad.”

~~~

“Are you sure he’s all right? Maybe we should wake him up and see...”

“Professor, I don’t think he’ll want to go out to eat brunch. Let’s just let him sleep. He has no fever, and he looks fine.” Michael looked around for his belt. “Have you seen my belt anywhere?”

“Which one? The thin black leather, or the tooled brown with the silver buckle?”

“The black one. I swear I left it upstairs on the back of the lounger.”

Maria was snacking on a carrot stick. Starving. “I don’t think I used it to tie you up lately or vice versa, so it should still be there.”

“Forget it.” Michael ignored her comment about tying each other up. He was starving, and she wasn’t distracting him until he ate a few thousand calories of empty fats. “Your choice, where are we going?” Michael purposely dressed down to keep her from choosing somewhere upscale with crappy food. But Maria was dressed similar to him in a tight mini, t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

“The Grease Pit.” Maria said on her way out the door, almost so quietly that he didn’t hear her right.

“Whoa Nelly! Back up Professor. Did you say ‘The Grease Pit’? My ‘Grease Pit’?”

“I’m not going to sit across from you if you sit and gloat.” Maria saw the amusement in his eyes.

The Grease Pit was the most disgusting burger joint in town, and Michael was singlehandedly supporting the place with his patronage. Numerous times she lectured him on the evil fat replacing his blood from that place, but this morning she woke up with a craving so strong, that she had to have a sweaty burger, extra fixins, and deep fried pickle chips.

“One word, one sneer, and it’s the Starlight Room with itsy bitsy medallions of meat covered in a snooty French reduced sauce, three pieces of over cooked asparagus, and crap on your plate that’s suppose to be artistic.”

“I didn’t say a word.” Maria looked at him suspiciously. Michael just smirked and put his arm around her shoulder to pull her near as he headed for the bike. This was reason to celebrate. A Grease Pit triple burger with extra cheese was just what he wanted.

They placed their order and were eating appetizers of fresh fried potato chips smelling of vinegar. Maria was dipping them in ketchup while Michael doctored his large cherry coke with Tabasco. Something was wrong when Maria didn’t make a rude comment over his order of three double cheeseburgers with extra peppers, two large orders of fries and an order of onion rings.

Michael almost took her to the clinic when she ordered an extra large double chocolate malt extra thick, two large cheeseburgers with extra pickles wrapped to go, even though they were eating them there, two orders of deep fried pickle chips, an order of cheese tots, and she asked for a large plate of pickle spears.

“Why wrapped?”

“What?”

“Why did you want the burgers wrapped?” Michael swore as his cell phone rang.

“So they could get all sweaty.” Maria kissed him quickly as he answered the phone. “I love them sweaty.”

“Guerin.” Michael smiled at her. Maria liked lots of things sweaty.

“Michael, it’s Max.”

“Max, hey it’s not a good time...”

“I really need to talk to you.” Michael looked at Maria looking at him. At the mention of Max’s name they both had the same thought. Tess and the baby.

“Sorry Max, we’re not home. Maria and I are out having lunch.”

“Where are you?”

“The Grease Pit. Max...” Michael just frowned at the phone when he heard the disconnect click. “Max is joining us I guess.”

“Cool.” Maria was using a ketchup bottle to coat her pickle spears in a line of ketchup before eating. “Think it’s about Tess?”

“What else, unless it’s Isabel?” Michael frowned as a group of men in the next table were hassling the waitress and dumping garbage on the floor for her to pick up. “What’s happening to me, Professor? Since I met you I’ve turned into some real ‘nice guy’, a literal mushy-headed cream puff.”

Michael suddenly stood up and growled at the group of men harassing the waitress, flashing his badge hooked in his jeans waistband since he hadn't found his belt, letting them see his shoulder holster with the gun under his jacket. Maria just listened and watched as Michael barked at the group of men in a threatening and menacing manner making them scramble to clean up their mess and flee for their lives, but only after leaving a large tip.

Maria calmly popped another ketchup laced pickle in her mouth munching, and said with her mouth full. “Yeah, it’s shocking. A real push over. A cream puff.” Maria smiled at the rescued waitress. “Think I could get some more pickles? You don’t have any olives do you?”

Michael sat back down and watched his mate devour the chips and pickles, and sucking down large quantities of her malt. She was the most perfect woman he had ever met. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she surprised him. Every day was an adventure, whether it was her lecturing him on some obscure tribe in the rainforest or trying to con him out of his dessert. Leaning back, he watched her hands as they dipped the pickles, and she kept talking about Max and Tess. Suddenly she stopped and looked at him, and without another thought they both leaned in for a kiss.

That was how Max found them, oblivious to the world around them, each busily mapping out the other's mouth, like it was something they had never done before. Oh geez, get a damn room! Max stood at the table moving from one foot the other trying to get their attention.

“Michael? Maria? Hellooo? Air, breathe, and maybe rejoin the world? There are people here trying to eat.” Max gave up and slid into the booth across from them as a waitress showed up with a huge order of food. “You’re going to have to disengage, because there’s no way you can eat your food and kiss.”

“Food?” Maria said huskily as she pulled away from Michael. That word registered. Max watched horrified as plate after plate laden down with food was placed on the table, and both Maria and Michael started eating without a care, Maria smiling her thanks at the waitress.

The waitress looked at Max with her order pad opened. “Can I get you anything?”

“A cherry coke, extra cherry, cheeseburger and plate of fries.”

“That all?” Max looked over at his partner devouring a burger, and reaching for a second one. Maria was eating deep fried pickle chips and making a humming noise under her breath.

“Yeah, I’m on a diet.”

Max watched them, and after Michael finished his second burger, asked for a refill on his cherry coke, and was decimating a plate of fries he finally decided to talk to Max. “What’s up, Maxwell?”

Maria stopped eating and was looking Max over very closely. Taking another bite of the burger, she munched away waiting for Max to tell them what they already knew. When she finished her burger, she licked her fingertips, and the action drew Michael’s attention. Suddenly he grabbed her hand and pulled one finger after another into his mouth, sucking and then nibbling away the taste. Max was astounded as he watched Maria’s eyes drop to Michael’s mouth, and before they could...

“Hellooo! Focus! Partner, your best friend is needing advice.”

“Sorry, partner. What did you want?” Michael released Maria’s hand and turned his attention to Max while picking up his last burger.

“Tess. Tess came to see me this morning.” Max pushed his fingers through his hair. “She told me that...that...” Max paused as the waitress deposited his order and drink in front of him and asked them if they needed anything else. They all just shook their heads no, and Max quickly got back at it before the insatiable twins took off again on another tour of each other's body.

“Tess is pregnant.” Max spit out in a hurry. “I’m the father.”

Michael frowned at Max calling himself a father, and felt that twinge again. Maria leaned into him, and her hand went up his leg to rest high on his thigh.

“How do you feel about that, Max?” Maria asked quietly.

“Unsettled, freaked-out, scared, and just confused. I know that it has to be mine if she’s three months pregnant, and Tess has no reason to lie, and once she told me, I could feel it was true.”

“So what are you going to do?” Michael asked, letting his partner think about it as he took a bite of his burger.

“What can I do?” Max said as he washed down a bite with some coke. “She’s having it, so that means I’m going to be a father.” Max took another bite of his burger. Actually, he was feeling better now that he was talking about it. “I guess its time. I’m twenty-eight, so its not like I’m too young or don’t have a job. It’s just that I always thought I’d have children after I was married and settled down. This was unexpected, and we were using protection, so surprise is only the start of what I’m feeling.”

“Did you ask her to marry you?” Michael asked quietly. Maria had told him of Tess's reasons for breaking up with Max. It didn’t look like she would change her mind because of a baby.

“Yeah, I suggested, but she refused.” Max sat back and sucked on his drink. “I don’t know how this is going to work, but it’s my kid, and I won’t let her go through it alone.”

“She’s not alone, Max. She has family, Kyle, and even me and Michael. I’m sure Tess will be happy to include you in every step of the way, but if you’re just offering because it’s the right thing to do...don’t.”

Max looked at Maria and nodded. He knew that. Tess was twenty six, and it wasn’t like she was alone in the world. “It’s not just that, Maria. I can’t explain it, but I feel something. I feel the baby, and I don’t want to be an absentee father. I don’t know how it’ll work, but we’ll figure it out.”

Michael decided to change the subject. “So what the hell is going on with Isabel?”

~~~

He returned later that night, later than usual. If she followed pattern, she wouldn’t sing until the late set, around midnight. Sitting where he knew she could notice him, he waited. The heavy sedative was ready. The music was loud and the crowds were even noisier than usual, which seemed unusual for a Sunday. Watching her weave her way through the crowd, she laughingly came to rest at the table.

“Hey Ernest, your friend still in stage one?”

“So it would appear. You were great tonight. Want to sit, or are they going to get smart and let you finally do more than one set?”

“I wish.” Krystal sat down across from her new friend. Last night after they talked about literature, plays, and everything under the sun, they turned their interest to watching the crowd and make fun of the strange people.

“It’s crowded and hot in here tonight. I’m off the hooch. I think I’m going for a cola, you want anything?”

Krystal smiled. “You’re right. It’s stifling hot tonight. A cola would be fine.”

They talked for a short while when he noticed her eyes getting big and heavy. “Hey, Krystal. Hey! You okay?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so tired all the sudden.”

“Okay, hang in there. Is there a room where you can go lie down?”

“The back breakroom where the band goes between sets, but no one will be there until after the next break.”

He got up, and helped her stand. “That’s okay. I’ll help you back there, and you can rest while I go find your cousin. It’s got to be the heat.”

Krystal just nodded as he helped her to the back room. When they got there, he was helping her to a sofa. “Where’s that door lead?”

Krystal was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. “It’s a side door to the alley.”

“Good, lets open it. Maybe the fresh air will wake you up.” Krystal let him help her to the door, and when it opened the rush of fresh air hit her. She breathed it in, the cool freshness cutting in the lungs, something to remember, and it was the last thought she ever had.

~~~

Alex walked through the club twice. It was finally after-hours and the last of the scragglers were gone, except the usual after-bar-party hanger-ons. Krystal was missing. She wasn’t in the club. Alex looked up at Pete when he came through the door, but he just shook his head no. Dammit, Krystal where are you? When he found her, he was going to kill her for breaking the rules and scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Pete round up the rest. Anyone that’s awake and able to look.” Alex sat at the bar and searched through Krystal’s address book left in her bag in the back room. Picking up the phone he started making calls.

Freddie looked at his friend and boss. “Alex, what can I do?”

Pray. Alex just lit a cigarette. “Could you take a few of the guys and hit the streets and some of the illegal after-parties. See if you can find her?”

“Sure man, it’s done. We’ll call if we find her...when we find her.” Freddie went to shake the tree of sleeping band members and others.

They never called, and Krystal never came home.

~~~

Maria ignored them. Sneaking Mr. Boo some bacon while reading the morning paper, it was easier on her stomach than to look at or even contemplate eating the breakfast Sean was cooking. Sean was definitely on the mend, but he still looked like crap.

He had gotten up early that morning, determined to leave and go to work. Michael informed him that he was on a temporary leave, and the two had been arguing ever since. Maria peeked around her paper and was nauseated just watching Sean slice large slabs of bread, stacking them with fresh mozzarella and deep-frying them after dipping them in an egg wash.

Maria moaned causing Michael to look at her sharply. Still arguing with Sean, he went to Maria’s side, who just leaned into him. Neither of them was feeling that great, and Sean was killing them with his peppy way of cooking of everything in grease.

“Make him stop,” Maria begged from where her head against his chest. Michael ran his hand up under Maria’s hair and was alarmed by the moisture he found there. She was sweating and he could hear her gulping to keep control of her stomach.

What the hell were with these DeLucas and their cooking everything bizarre? First they sat through Sunday dinner with Amy, the Wedding Planner from Hell, eating tray after tray of hors d’oeuvres Amy had made so they could help her decide on the menu for the reception.

Michael didn’t mind tasting everything, but it was Maria’s green looks and shaking her head almost subtly that stopped him. It was too late, he had already eaten some of the sweetmeats, and it took him popping a sautéed chicken liver wrapped in Italian cured ham prosciutto to start using the napkin method he noticed Jim employing. When Amy asked him what he thought about the appetizers, he told the truth. It was the least he could do after she forgave him the loss of the Palisades restaurant and changed her mind on powdered baby blue for his tux. He exalted over his fondness for those tasty Pigs in a Blanket, and Jim piped up his love of c-ocktail weenies.

Maria just shook her head in horror at their clueless responses, as Amy laughed, thinking they were joking. Michael stood behind the contention that pigs rolled in blankets were a real treat, as Maria delicately ate grilled shrimp on a skewer. He finally escaped with Maria after her near fit over the latest run of bridesmaid dresses resembling wood imps and fairies from something out of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream . Maria refused to dress up like a mustard seed, cobweb or anything else that made her look like an earth mother nightmare, such as the goddess of empathy.

The evening did give him a chance to talk to his Captain about Sean. Between the two of them, they decided on a strategy, and so far Sean was not taking it very well. The fact that he was on standdown until Wednesday was harsh, but the conditions of his return sent him into a cooking frenzy that, on top of the Amy torture from the night before, was destined to toss both Michael and Maria’s stomachs.

“I’m not going!”

“You’ll go, or turn in your badge, Sean. Your choice.”

“You can’t do that. This is my private life. It has nothing to do with being a cop.”

Maria looked at the two men snarling at each other, face to face. Tough call, but her money was on Michael. He held the cards, Sean’s job.

“It does if you’re seeing Cassie in your head, if you’re stepping up for suicide games, and if you choose to eat a bullet.” Michael refused to relent. “That’s a commander’s call, and I’m calling it. You won’t be dying on my watch.”

Sean turned gray. “You said you had my back, brother .” Michael winced at the sneer in the word ‘brother’.

“I do.” Michael said quietly. “But not like this. You know the code, Sean. For family, loyalty and honor, it’s the code to protect. You’re not standing for anyone Sean, you’re taking the easy way out.”

“Easy!” Sean grabbed Michael’s front. “This is easy to you?”

“As easy as it gets for those like us. I’ll walk with you, but my word and my job is to protect, and that includes a dumb f-uck too wasted to ask for it.” Michael pushed Sean off him. “Get your sh-it. We’ve got an appointment.”

Sean looked at Maria, at the tears in her eyes and how silently she sat letting Michael do the work. Her tears broke the stalemate. Kissing her and wiping those tears away, he went to get his jacket.

Standing in the doorway with his back to Michael, “Maybe it is you who are mistaken, brother. What if what I am is not the same as you? I might be something you should let go.”

“She almost beat us once, Sean. I won't let her dead hand reach beyond the grave to beat us again.” Michael said using the one real hold he had. The thought of Cassie beating him, winning would always be more than Sean could stand.

Sean went into his room, shutting the door. Michael pulled Maria close and kissed the top of her head while his hand cupped her face.

On the way to the appointment, Sean refused to talk, but once in the office he couldn’t sit still. His bitching was reaching such a level that Michael actually took the safety off his revolver and sat calmly thinking of how he could get out of trouble after shooting Sean. The only thing that stopped him was knowing Sean would probably appreciate it, and doing anything Sean wanted stank too much of rewarding him for his bitching.

“Sit down, and shut up, DeLuca. You’re scaring the real patients.”

Sean looked around at the room, and sat next to Michael bitching under his breath, but still bitching.

“This won’t work, you know. I went to the mandatory session after we all were taken down last year. It didn’t help.” Sean looked at the room with its nauseating colors, nauseating smells, and office furniture designed to stick him in every stitch and wound.

“I don't want you to see a shrink because of Cassie, Sean.” Michael flipped his magazine checking out car classifieds. He really needed to replace his trashed truck. Maria had graciously let him use the GTO today because of Sean, but he needed real wheels. “I’ve got to trust that you’re a stubborn son of a bitch that will refuse to let her win, and you’ll live in hell itself before you lay down for that bitch again. No, I want you to see someone about your mother.”

Sean looked at Michael sharply as his name was called. Not looking back, Sean entered the office. Michael took out his cell phone as he heard Sean talking before the door shut.

“This is a waste of my time, so if you want me to talk it’ll take some work on your part.”

“Sit down, Detective DeLuca. Don’t worry, I think I’d like to work you over, but it looks like someone beat me to it. Good to know you can take a beating.” The door slammed shut. The psychologist was the name on the card Andy had given Michael.

“Yeah, I was looking at your ad for the new two-ton truck. No the other model. What color of green does that come in? No I want something dark and brilliant, alive. Yeah, I’ve got a special color in mind.” Michael listened for a moment. “How large is that front seat? Bench? Is it deep? Could say...two adults sleep on it? Room is always appreciated.”

*****************************************************************************

Michael hadn't even made it to the coffee and donuts, before Max found him. It was already after ten. Time went fast waiting for Sean, and then taking him home, leaving the GTO and taking the bike. Shoving papers at him, Max reached over and grabbed three donuts and pushed his partner towards the elevator.

“Coffee, grab some coffee dammit!” Michael shoved an entire donut into his mouth in one bite. “Think we’ve got time to hit a drive-thru?”

“We identified our Jane Doe. Kyle is waiting for family members to identify the body, but the match is already made. I’ve got a list of friends and acquaintances.”

“When did the stuff come through?”

“Early this morning. Her roommate finally filed a Missings. The picture was dead-on, and Simon is accessing her dental now.”

Michael downed another donut. Coffee, he needed coffee. Or milk. Michael cringed at that thought. Milk? What the hell was wrong with him? Cow secretions...

“Okay, we roll, but you’ve got to find me some coffee.”

“Hang on. We’re heading to the University. You can get a cup of the Professor’s industrial waste, core-scrubber coffee. That should burn a hole through your gut.”

“She better not be drinking that sh-it. Dammit, just hit the first drive-thru, preferably someplace with more donuts, or a damn egg McMuffin.”

They went in search of a graduate student affiliated with the English and Language Departments. He was a cross-major specializing in linguistics and language origins. Justin Bartley. It would appear that their Jane Doe was actually a Janet Seers.

“Justin Bartley?” Max asked in a room full of graduate students sitting at tables and talking. The room suddenly went quiet looking at the two cops, especially the larger more menacing one eyeing the coffee pot in the corner.

“I’m Justin.” A tall thin man in his mid-twenties stood up. He looked something like a poet with his shaggy hair, goatee, and long sweater covering a t-shirt and baggy jeans. Michael looked down and took in the worn loafers, and just turned away. Whatever appealed to the masses.

“I’m Detective Evans, and this is my partner, Detective Guerin. We’re responding to your missing person’s report filed this morning.”

“Yeah, damn that was fast! I filed it on my way into school this morning. Janet was missing for a few days, so this weekend the house had a meeting, and I pulled the short straw to file.” Michael hitched his hip to the side of a table within reaching distance of the coffee pot.

“What do you mean you had a house meeting?” Michael asked confused.

“Well a few of us graduate students share a large house, about eight of us. Rent is divided by bedroom, so it keeps our expenses down.” Max indicated for the man to sit down at a table near Michael, and he took a seat as well. A bell rang, and suddenly many of the students in the lounge took off. “I’ve got a class.” Justin started to rise. Michael pushed him back down.

“Miss it.” The man looked at Michael, and nodded. “So Janet lived in the house?”

“Yeah, she was slightly older than the rest of us, about twenty-seven. She had a jones for language, actually just for correct usage of the English language.”

“The report says the last time anyone saw her was last Tuesday. That was seven days ago. Why so long to report her missing?”

“Well she really didn’t socialize much with the rest of us, actually most of us avoided her. She was nice enough, if you didn’t have to talk to her.” Justin refilled his cup of coffee and dumped in half a cup of sugar. “So when she went missing, at first we assumed she finally got lucky, then that she might have gone to visit her parents or something. But on Friday, she missed a class she student-teaches. That wouldn’t happen. Not ever. Janet was a royal, anal, persnickety pain in the ass with the social graces of a riverbed slug, but she was too uptight to leave a class hanging.”

“You mean she would’ve made arrangements if she couldn’t be there for the class.” Max said frowning as his partner took more coffee. Damn, he was going to have a wired partner.

“Right. She would have informed someone of a family emergency or whatever. So by Friday we were concerned, and finally admitted that no one had seen her since Tuesday.”

“You could have filed this last weekend. Why wait?” Max discreetly moved the coffee pot away from Michael.

Justin shrugged. “House meetings are on Sunday afternoon with Sunday dinner. It’s the only time we all really eat together, and then we discuss problems in the house, make rules, and take care of business like utilities and stuff.”

“Stuff. So Janet was stuff?” Michael asked with a coldness in his voice. The woman on the slab deserved a friendly regard, someone to care.

“Look, she wasn’t bad or evil. Her personality clashed with others, that was the long and short of it. Janet had a high regard for her own opinion. We called it ‘the world according to Janet’. If she saw things a certain way, even when she was wrong and knew it, she would fight for her opinion regardless. It was like playing a game of Trivial Pursuit with a person who memorized all the answers, and then read the questions to you all puffed up, saying things like ‘Oh, don’t worry, this one is an easy one, and only an idiot would miss it’. She was insecure enough to demand people follow rules to the T, live up to her standards whether they knew them or not, and was miserable enough to obsess over it when they didn’t. The only way she felt good was when she could parade her own high opinion, and pull down everything around her in a critical way to keep her own esteem high.”

“So basically no one cared that she was gone?” Max asked.

“No. Basically, it was that no one went out of their way to socialize with her, because her opinion usually was put out there as something hard, vicious and mean, and it sucked the life out of everyone privy to it. So we avoided her, thereby avoiding confrontation, and that’s why it took us a little time to realize that it wasn’t so hard to avoid her, because she wasn’t there.”

Michael sipped on the coffee that tasted like it was on the same grounds ran through a few times. “In a nutshell, what was it about Janet that made her stand out?”

“Perfection. Her quest for perfection.” Michael sat up straighter and paid more attention. “She was always correcting people, critically reviewing everything about them whether they wanted her to or not. Nothing was right or correct unless it passed her own ‘Janet view’, and if not she bitched obsessively, pointing out all aspects that she felt wasn’t up to her standards. She was one of those miserable people who lived in the North with precise monotone speech, who would visit the South and hear a woman say the word 'wash’ pronounced ‘warsh', and even though she fully understood what the woman meant, she had to correct because it wasn’t ‘good English.’ She would find fault in a gift given at some personal expense to the person doing the giving. She’d nit-pick over every detail until the person giving wished they hadn’t bothered. Ever have an old Aunt Sally who knitted you a sweater, and it looked terrible? Well most people would smile, say thank you, and put it away. Not Janet. She would crawl all over the work, not caring how Aunt Sally felt about it, and would tell anyone and everyone within hearing distance how terribly it was, or how worthless, or how untalented Aunt Sally was until the only ones standing around her were those who showed the same miserable disposition.”

“So you’re saying that her demand for perfection was a flaw.” Max frowned as Michael searched in his now-empty coffee cup and was slowly moving towards the pot again.

“No, I’m saying it was a double standard. It’s easy to be critical of everyone and everything when you have nothing out there and you aren't risking your own pride and work to extreme scrutiny. Nothing ventured is nothing gained. She practiced pretending to be perfect, but her very nature belied that.” Justin felt bad. “Really she wasn’t that bad, it’s just hard to be around a person who comes to eat at your table, tastes your food, and then tells you that it sucks, but don’t worry, you’ll get better if you take cooking lessons. Miserable, miserable person. Miserable to be around, and miserable to live with, so most of us avoided her. That flaw in her personality was why none of us missed her when she was gone.”

“So why did you let her live with you?”

“Well when we started she seemed so nice, as do most people when you meet them. On the surface they project a certain personality, a façade that often hides their true nature. It took a little while for those personality traits to hit us in the face, but at the end of this year, if she didn’t graduate and move on, the house was voting her out.”

“Well that should no longer be a concern.” Michael said. “We need you to come with us to the station and identify a body.”

“A body?” Justin rubbed his face. “Oh, God! Janet? ”

“Yes. It would appear someone else found her personality traits a tad bit flawed as well.” Michael ignored Max’s sharp look his way. “When was the last time and place anyone saw her? Exactly. If any of you could try to remember the last time you were trying to avoid her, it would help our investigation.”

“Tuesday.” Justin said quietly. “It was Tuesday. Our entire house went out to celebrate the completion of first block testing and grading. It was the end of a long week of all-nighters and living on coffee and sugar. The weekend was worse because all grading had to be done by no later than end of school day on Monday, and the weekend was when most of us spent all our time trying to catch up. Monday night was 'Silent night' as the house crashed to catch up on needed sleep, and Tuesday was our 'Let's celebrate until the next grading period in six weeks'.”

“Janet was with the group of you?”

“Yeah. Most of us hit the dance floor, but Jen was caught at the table with Janet listening to her rip apart her students and their essays. Finally Jen went to get a drink and ditched her. When we came back to the table she was gone, so we assumed she was dancing or met someone to continue bitching to. She still hadn’t surfaced by bartime at two a.m. so we walked home and we made jokes about how she must have met a creepy English professor type who was up to her standards. Someone who would lecture about comma splices and get her all hot, while going down on her in missionary, reciting all the proper pronouns and wearing black nylon socks.” Justin looked at them. “It was funny to us at the time.”

“I’m sure.” Michael felt bad. Janet sounded like a person he wouldn’t have enjoyed knowing either, and with his language it was a given that he would’ve found a way to ticket her just in spite. “Where did you lose her exactly?”

“Club Hell.”

~~~

By the time Michael and Max made it back to the station, they had interviewed several people who had been acquainted with Janet Seers. The picture was the same with almost everyone, including her Professors and advisors. She was a nice woman, but wasn't really very close to anyone, and was considered too critical for the average human, meaning pretty much the rest of the population. The word that kept hitting them was the word ‘perfection’. It was used in not only describing Janet’s demeanor, but what she demanded of others.

“That was the most miserable time of my life. There has to be someone that liked that girl outside of the few that she found no real fault with.” Max threw himself down in his chair, depressed. “Add the fact that I have court in an hour, my day is just sucking up the ass.”

“Court? Oh, the Delaney case? That’s what you get, partner, getting in on a bust without me. I think I’ll finish up these reports, and look at Kyle’s. His day had to be miserable too, helping people identify the body, and collecting all the lab reports. Then I’m off early to check on my car part...” Michael stopped talking as a man came to stand at his and Max’s desk.

Alex Whitman. The owner of Club Hell, and someone they needed to talk to eventually. Looked like the time was now.

“Whitman, I thought you had an allergy to Cop Central.” Max asked, and Michael would’ve made a comment as well if it weren’t for stone coldness of Alex’s eyes.

“Normally I do. I just spent the morning downstairs getting the runaround.” Alex looked at Michael specifically. “I think some people owe me.” Alex added Max in his stare. “I need help, and I can’t wait for some forty-eight hours to get it.”

“What is it, Alex?” Michael felt his stomach flip. If Whitman was looking from help from them, it couldn’t be good.

“My cousin went missing out of my club last night. She was only seventeen, and I looked everywhere for her.” Max and Michael looked at each other. Another girl missing from Club Hell. There might have been more, but the body of Janet Seers added her missing status on an active file. “You’ve got to help me. The two of you owe me from last year, and I’m calling in my marker. My cousin, she’s young, a good kid who just wanted to sing at my club.” Alex ran a shaking hand over his neck. “I promised my family she'd be safe.”

Michael pushed a chair out for Alex as Max went to get the man a cup of coffee. “Sit down, Whitman. I’ll take the report.” Michael didn’t just do it because of Janet Seers, but because Whitman was right. He and Max owed Alex for helping Isabel, and helping them get to Maria and Liz before they were too late. “When was the last time anyone saw her, exactly?”

Max was gone to make his court date, and Whitman finally left after they searched for any Jane Doe resembling his cousin in both the hospitals and the morgue. Nothing so far, but Michael kept her file on top. Looking at the picture Alex gave them, the girl was young and beautiful. Her face was shining, full of life and humor. Closing the report folder he hoped that they could find the girl alive and well, not only for Whitman’s sake, but because there was too much life in the girl to be wasted at such an age.

“Guerin.” Michael barked into his phone.

“Always pleasant, Michael.” Michael smiled at the phone.

“Walter. What’s the news?”

Walter just laughed at the change in voice. “The part arrived, and it’s good. Not new, but it has almost no wear, and I checked the part serials, and they're an authentic match. The money was transferred, so count yourself very, very poor.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling it in my ass. I took time off today for an early afternoon. I’m done in about an hour, so keep it safe and I’ll swing by on my way.”

“Done. Does the Professor coming too?” Michael looked at his watch.

“Maria’s off in about fifteen minutes. I’ll give her a call and let her know it’s in. We got the rest done, so we just have to pop this puppy in, put the engine into the block, and we can send it out to paint.”

“Excellent. Michael, I know it’s hard to see the project end, but just float through that feeling buddy, because the minute you take her out it will all be worth it.”

“From the Angel’s mouth to you Walter, I know it. See you in a couple of hours.” Michael hung up the phone, and wondered what Kyle was doing that evening and if he would like to join him and Sean to help lower the engine back into the block. Max was coming over after he got home from court, but Michael wasn’t sure Max was going to get away from the DA’s grilling and coaching for the next day.

“Michael, here’re the reports you wanted. I also thought you might want to see this too.” Gary, the records file clerk quickly made himself scarce. Michael scanned the reports and tossed them on his desk. Looking at the other thing Gary gave him, Michael frowned and read it twice. What the hell? Sitting down in his seat he reread it again, and again. Thinking for a moment, a plan formed in his mind. Yeah, he knew just the right cop to handle this situation. Picking up the phone, he set the wheels in motion.

~~~

Maria stopped twice to doublecheck the instructions. No mistake, but dammit, a dirt road outside of Roswell? She was supposed to meet Michael, but this had to be wrong. Finally coming to a blacktop, she took a right as instructed and traveled down the road. Pushing in her newest favorite CD, Maria maintained her usual speeds. It was after four in the afternoon, and Michael had no doubt found another out of the way place that served his favorite meal outside of cheeseburgers and donuts-Indian tacos. Maria wasn’t opposed; she could handle eating some fried bread. It was strange that Michael wanted to detour away from their plans to work on the car, but it was early afternoon, so there was still time for that.

It took awhile before she looked in her rearview mirror and noticed a motorcycle cop with his lights flashing. Quickly looking down at the speedometer, she swore under her breath. Oh, this was not good. As she pulled over, put the car in park and turned off the engine, Maria quickly grabbed her license, registration, and insurance form. She was becoming a pro at being pulled over.

Looking in the rearview mirror as she saw the officer dismount his motorbike, Maria checked her makeup and put on her best smile of contrition. The tapping on her window with the officer’s nightstick actually startled her. Rolling down the window quickly, she tried to calm her beating heart.

“Officer...”

“License, registration, and insurance, ma’am.” His voice was serious and cold brooking no discussion or overtures. Maria started to talk and make gestures with her hands. “Please keep you hands on the steering wheel at all times.”

Maria looked outside her window, but all she could see was this shirt front, and the firm stance in tight black leather pants. That uniform was fitting real nice like, all snuggly-wuggly. Michael needed one of those. Maria watched as he quickly read her papers, tapping his stick against the outside of his leg. Maria couldn’t stop staring at the fascinating sight of his utility belt and handcuffs. The whole uniform really went together nicely.

“Officer, I’m so sorry. I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention to my speed, and...”

“Remain here.” He walked off leaving her in mid-sentence and mounted his bike calling in her license and tags to dispatch. Oh no! This wasn’t good. Maria tried to remember what was on her record.

The officer came back. “Ma’am, could you step out of the vehicle?”

Maria reluctantly complied. “I know I’ve got a few speeding tickets on my record. I meant to take care of those.”

“You have three, ma’am. In this state that makes you a habitual offender. This speeding ticket won’t be seen very favorably when you stand in front of the judge.”

“The judge? Can’t I just pay the tickets?” Maria tried to keep the whining out of her voice.

“That is for the courts to decide ma’am, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to run you in.”

Maria looked up at his glasses, mirrored ones hiding his eyes, and his jaw was held firm and unyielding. This was a nightmare.

“Please, I’m so sorry, but my boyfriend wouldn’t be too understanding if I were taken into custody and booked. Isn’t there some way we could avoid this? Anything?” Maria tried to be her most appealing hoping her pleading would break his cold austere disposition.

“What are you suggesting, ma’am?” His jaw muscle flexed, otherwise there was no sign of emotion.

Maria was unsure what to say, or how to say it. Either way she was likely to get herself in trouble, real trouble. Then again, Michael was going to hit the roof over the speeding tickets. He hated it when she broke the law, or used her connections to make things go away.

“Officer, you don’t know how desperate I am. I would do anything, pay anything to avoid this ticket. Maybe you could help me out, turn a blind-eye just this once.” Maria gave a small hopeful smile. She reached out and touched his chest. Oh, nice and firm! “Please?”

“Are you offering me a bribe, ma’am?”

“No! No, of course not. That would be bad, very bad. No, I’m just saying I would be grateful, very grateful.”

He pushed her hand off his chest where it was absentmindedly stroking the lines of his tight shirt. “Grateful, how grateful? And please keep your hands to yourself. Better yet, I think you should turn around and put your hands on the hood of the car.”

Maria quickly complied. He didn’t look too happy with her. “It wasn’t a bribe, not really.”

“Bribing a sworn officer of the law is a serious charge, ma’am. Much more serious than a few speeding tickets. I’m sure that your boyfriend would find this even more objectionable.”

“Sorry Officer, I’ve tried to reform myself, but I fear being bad and unlawful is in my genes. I’m just trying to extricate myself from a potentially explosive situation.”

The Officer moved in close behind Maria and talked low and directly in her ear. Maria was shocked at how close he really was. “Are you saying your boyfriend will punish you?”

“Well sort of, in his own way.” Maria looked down at the hood and tried to keep her heart rate under control. God, he was good at menacing and terrorizing! An asset to his uniform, and what a great uniform it was.

Maria felt the coldness of the stick running up the inside of her bare leg, as he moved in even closer. “Does he spank your bare little bottom when you’re bad, Maria? Do you want him to?” Maria could feel the buttons of his shirt against her back. "Better check for concealed weapons." The Officer murmured from behind her.

Melting on the top of her car, she wasn’t sure how to answer that. But the Officer took that out of her hands. He wasn’t finished torturing her yet. “If you were mine, I would be tempted, just for the pleasure of feeling you squirm on my lap.” Maria was breathing hard, trying to keep her lungs full of air, and her eyes closed as he continued to whisper in her ear. “How grateful would you be, Maria if I made those speeding tickets disappear?”

“Very,” she said hoarsely.

Maria almost lost it when she felt the movement of his hands encased in leather gloves moving up her legs under her skirt. “No underwear?” Maria almost snorted, but held back. In this tight skirt, he had to be kidding. “You’re a very naughty one, aren’t you Maria?” His large hands held her hips in a tight grip. Then his tongue snaked out and lightly ran up the side of her neck.

No, not what she had expected. He knew what he was doing, a full assault she could have handled, an absolute lack of touching she could have also handled. But this delicate brushing touch was maddening. She attempted to calm her breathing. No use, his grip was too strong. Relax... relax... this is not happening, not in the middle of the day, not on a County highway, and not in Roswell, New Mexico.

“Tell me how naughty you are.”

He slipped his tongue into her ear, and she groaned despite her resolve to not make a sound. "Oh God," she hissed as his hands encased in leather moved up her front to cover her breast in a firm hold rubbing them. His tongue continued to work her ear, as his foot knocked her legs further apart and hardness of his erection pushed up against her ass. So close, so close, going to come... and then he pulled away.

“No!” Dammit, he won . “It’s not my fault. I swear. I come from unlawful genes.” Maria moaned when she heard his zipper go down. This was one of her fantasies, a variation of the interrogation room fantasy, but with a twist. She didn’t know that she would melt and lose control, becoming all subservient. In her fantasy she always had more fire and bravado, spitting in the Pig's eye. It was the damn uniform’s fault. How could she possibility resist the coolness of the nightstick on her inner thigh, or be prepared for the effect of having his leather gloved hands on her? It already had her orgasmic from the getgo.

Maria leaned forward and rested her head on her arms across the hood of the car, and his hands held her hips firmly and he flipped her skirt upward. The erotic feel of his hot flesh moving between her thighs from behind made her clench her fist and whisper a hot, ‘oh god!” as he penetrated her from behind. Maria felt her orgasm at the first full push as he sheathed himself all the way to the hilt.

Michael reached down and kissed the side of her neck, holding still as her body rode the wave. “Too much? Too intense?”

Maria just laughed where she lay. “Nothing with you is ever too much or too intense, Detective. I like it that way.” Maria felt him pull away and made a sound of protest. Michael quickly moved her to face him, and lifted her up to sit partially on the hood of the car crowding her by standing between her legs. “I just didn’t know that the uniform was gonna get me off, along with your pissy attitude.”

Michael smirked at that and let her pull him to her by his shirtfront. “Where would the fun be in that, Maria?”

“I’m a sick individual, Officer Rod.” Maria said as her eyes tried to penetrate the mirrors of his sunglasses. “I think you should investigate me, probe me to make sure I’m not a danger to the public.”

Michael growled as Maria nibbled on his lips, and he moved himself back into her, his eyes closing to slits as he watched her put back her head in a hissing moan. Leaning forward he kissed and then sucked on her exposed throat moving up to take her mouth in a full kiss. He was keeping the uniform. As he moved deeper and harder into her, kissing her mouth with the same intensity he was pumping into her, behind his eyes he could imagine her in front of him on her knees opening his zipper with her teeth. Hell yeah, the uniform stays.

“Oh yes, yes, yes! Oh! Officer Rod!” Maria was holding tight to his shoulders as he brought her closer and closer to another orgasm. “Michael, God please, more...” Michael moved her back even harder on the hood and took his time really doing it right. With her flat on her back, he hooked his arm under one of her legs and lifted it up so he could move even more into the cradle of her legs and push even deeper and harder into her. Michael’s other hand was trying to unbutton the front of her blouse, but the leather gloves were too unwieldy. Maria grabbed his hand and put a gloved finger in her mouth and pulled it off his hand. He quickly unbuttoned the blouse and moved her bra out of the way to take a firm bud in his hot mouth.

Moving his hand down, he slid it under her and lifted her ass so he could find a firmer purchase for his thrusts. Maria was making encouraging sounds in her throat as Michael worked her breasts nodding frantically. Whatever she wanted, she could have. Maria gave in to the temptation to just lean back and lose herself in his rhythm and the incredible heat of the body spread out over her own. Maria groaned as Michael's next strong stroke hit her walls stretching her even more. It made her feel like she was full of him, that he was her world. Her hands slid frantically across his chest and up under his arms to hold onto his shoulders pulling him harder to her helping to give his thrusts a purchase as she tried to brace herself.

Maria’s body convulsed violently as the head of Michael's c-ock found that perfect angle to rub against her clit time and again and the penetration and angle was hitting that special spot inside that made her eyes roll back and the world explode in a flash of color, and she bit at the smooth skin on the inside of her mouth as she climaxed. And climaxed again at Michael's next thrust, and again, sobbing her pleasure as the heightened intensity of feeling him drove her wild. Maria reached up and pulled off his mirrored glasses and helmet. She needed to see her lover, not a stranger. She wanted to see herself in Michael’s eyes.

Michael let his head tilt back until he could feel the heavy weight of his now released hair brushing his shoulder blades through his shirt. Moaning deep in the back of his throat, he dug his fingers into Maria's hips and rode his mate's hot, shuddering body right over the edge. Electricity crackled up and down his spine as his body tightened and jerked forward, each involuntary thrust into the heat around his c-ock sending tiny explosions shooting through him. Slowly, he fell forward to rest on Maria.

Michael laughed against her breasts when he heard her say in a shuttering breath, “Oh Officer Rod! I love your hard nightstick.” She really did need a spanking. Brat.

They rested, trying to regain strength in their limbs, or enough so they could support their own weight and stand. “Michael?”

“Uh huh.” Michael needed a nap.

“I hope this wasn’t your way of trying to reform me of the errors of my ways with getting speeding tickets, because if Officer Rod is gonna visit me to punish me for being bad, then I am so staying bad, damn near e-vil.”

“Three tickets, Maria!”

“I was gonna pay them...eventually.”

Michael just made a disbelieving sound in his throat. Sure she was. More than likely she was going to get someone to fix them for her, and pay them only as a last resort.

“Michael, I was thinking...” Michael just nestled deeper into her breast and listened. This had to be good. “What do you think about me being a judge and you can be the bad, out of order cop who is taken to task in my private chambers. I could hold you in contempt of the court and punish you?”

Michael looked up at her with a sparkle in his eyes. “I’m free for lunch tomorrow.”

~~~

Sean rolled over in bed and looked at the clock. No way. He still had two hours before Michael or Maria came home to bug the crap out of him. The ringing at the door was relentless, and for a second he was afraid it would be his Aunt Amy. Getting up, he grabbed a shirt and went to get the door, tripping over the cat. Mr. Booboo was unhappy with the rudeness of the act and swiped an unsheathed claw at Sean’s ankle.

“Dammit, I said I was sorry!” Sean ripped open the door to a tall blond woman. A gorgeous, tall blond woman with a scowl on her face at his language. “Um, hi?”

“Right. I must have the wrong place.” She started to move away, but Sean stopped her.

“If you told me what place you were looking for, maybe I could help?”

Isabel Evans looked up and down at the underdressed man and his obviously beaten body, with the bruises showing yellows and greens tinged in black. “I doubt it. Looks like you’re the one needing help.”

“Appearances can be deceiving, but regardless, I know everyone who lives in this area. Who you looking for?”

“Michael Guerin.” Sean looked the woman over not liking what he saw all of a sudden.

“Know him, but you’re too late, tootsie. He’s involved, seriously involved.”

“Know that too, with his Professor chick.” Sean bristled at her tone and having his cousin referred to as a ‘Professor chick’.

“Yeah, but you’re mistaken if you think she’s just a ‘chick’.” Sean backed up to let the cold maiden bitch from Dante’s hell enter. “Either way, you’ve got the right place, but neither of them are home. It’s just me and the vicious cat, Mr. Boo.”

Isabel entered giving the place a quick look. Wow, Michael lived here? Isabel couldn’t see it until she noticed his hockey stick up against the corner of the living room wall, some of his stuff lying around, stacks of his favorite reading material on the end table. No one really read automotive magazines.

“And you are?” Isabel continued to look around. The outside atrium and garden was beautiful, and the kitchen was huge and modern. Michael had really moved up in the world from his small empty apartment. The loft was large and open with an upstairs bedroom area, equally colossal.

“I’m the cousin of Professor chick. Sean Deluca. Detective Sean DeLuca.” Sean looked at her as he did up his shirt. Her icy looks were making his balls shrivel up into his body.

“Detective? Not a very good one, huh? Looks like someone ran you over a few times. A girlfriend or wife?”

Sean just ignored her. “And you are...? The Avon lady?”

“Isabel, Isabel Evans.” She purposely kept her hands clasped and away from him. She didn’t touch men anymore.

“Evans? Any relationship to Max Evans?”

“Brother. You know him?” Isabel wandered around the room noticing the décor and furniture. This was a nice place, a really nice place. It was hard to miss the Kandinsky on the wall, and it didn’t look like a reproduction.

“Yeah, you can say that. I’m partnered up with him, Kyle, and Michael. So, you’re the sister they talk about.” Sean looked her over. Strange, she didn’t look much like Max, but she did have some shared coloring and features with Michael.

“Strange, they never mentioned you. Forgettable?” Isabel moved closer to the art on the walls. It all looked real. “Is this...”

“Utterly, and yes, it’s real.” Sean went into the kitchen to make coffee and some lunch. He had slept through food since returning home from the appointment. “Maria has quite a collection. Most of it came from her family home, and after her father died she inherited it. A lot of the more pretentious pieces are in museums collecting dust, but M has a love for the abstracts. Especially Kandinsky. There’s something about the cleanness of the geometrical lines that appeals, and she says that abstracts lead her to feel.”

“My parents left us some stuff, but nothing like this.” Isabel kept looking around almost like she was casing the joint. Sean was ready to bust her or ask for some identification. “There are some artifacts and art from Meso-America and Africa.”

“Maria knows what she likes. But I think the large fresco you’re looking at is something Michael picked out. He saw it in an auction house six months ago, and the Aztec impressions mixed with Catholic religious symbols fascinated him. Synergistic combinations have something gratingly wrong, and yet speak to the ubiquitous nature of religion.”

Isabel looked at the man with an eyebrow raised. Okay, so not just a dumb musclehead toting a gun. Isabel went into the kitchen and sat at the bar. Maria DeLuca. Wondering if she was anything like her cousin, Isabel put down her bag and narrowed her eyes. She had heard endless stories about this Maria person, but had never met her. All their contact so far had been over the phone, and through conversations with her brothers. Isabel was more than prepared to dislike the woman, and looking at her cousin, it was looking to be more of a possibility every moment.

“So, Spanky. You live here?” Sean just snorted at the nasty woman. Who would have thought this woman was related to Max Evans? Obviously those feminine genes had gotten switched in the mix, and the Amazon bitch got the balls, and Max wore the dress.

“No, just being babysat by the two owners of the house. I actually live in Michael’s old apartment.”

“Hope you did a better job furnishing it then he did.” Isabel spied pictures on a low ivory topped credenza in the living room and leaving Sean in the kitchen, she went to look at them. Shocked and stunned at the same time, Isabel studied them. The pictures were of a beautiful blond woman and Michael. Some of Michael alone, some of the woman, but most were of the two of them, other pictures of a lovely older woman with short light brunette hair, the man in the apartment with her, other people, and her brother, Max. The most shocking were of Michael. He was smiling in some of them, and he looked happy, a part of something.

“This your cousin?”

Sean looked over at her holding a picture of Maria and Michael together. It was taken during a picnic and Maria was doubled over holding a Frisbee away from Michael, who was wrapped around her trying to get it. They were both laughing, and the picture had caught them as Maria looked up at him.

“Yeah, that’s Maria.”

“Michael looks like...”

“He’s happy? Belongs to a part of a family? He does.” Sean was confused as to why the woman seemed so upset. “I think he wandered a long time looking for what he lost when his dad died. Maria gives him back something.”

“Max and I were his family since Mikey died. He was ours.” Sean went over and took the picture away from her and put it back. “Well, guess your family just got bigger. You’d have been in these pictures too, if you were here.”

Isabel followed Sean back and watched him slicing meat for a sandwich. “I guess I never thought Michael would change. There was something so alone about him, so hard in some ways, and it was almost like winter lived in him. The only ones he let close enough were me and Max, and even then he kept us apart at times.”

Sean looked at her critically. “It bothers you that he changed, that Maria got inside.” Isabel shrugged. “Maybe you should re-examine what type of person you are that thinks leaving someone you love or respect in pain, hurt, and alone is okay. I can’t believe you would begrudge him some peace, a bit of happiness. So he smiles. So he laughs. I can also tell you that he cusses like a longshoreman that hasn’t seen land in years, he is both crass and crude, thinks with his dick and stomach, and the only person he yields to is my cousin.” Sean placed a sandwich and cup of coffee in front of the woman. “He still makes rookies piss their pants, sends secretaries running in tears, bad guys confess rather than deal with him, and on a good day, terrorizes most of Roswell. The only difference is that he is no longer in pain, and happiness is a word that means something to him.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.” Isabel said taking a bite of the sandwich.

“Yeah, well I’m in therapy.” Sean said with a touch of pride, almost like it made him smarter than the average bear, or Roswell cop. He wasn’t going to mention that he had just started that day, and bitched about it the whole time. Somehow it just added weight to his observations.

“So am I.” Sean looked at her. Hmm, soulmate. Someone that shared a bond. He could only hope she was feeling as unattractive to him as he felt towards her. His balls couldn’t handle much more abuse, and that frosty piece would break off his dick inside.

“I like pain to mask the hurt I feel inside, or so my therapist says. I like to be beaten to an inch of my life. It gets me off.” Top that one little girl. Bet she was crushed at the thought someone didn’t like her.

“I f-ucked everything with a pulse more than once, did drugs and drank away my life so I wouldn’t feel anything.” Isabel smirked at him. Pain. What a pansy. Anyone could survive a whip; there were worse things. “Ever been forced to watch the Martha Stewart Christmas Special?”

“Damn. I’d rather be gang raped by bikers.”

“Yeah, me too. It was brutal.” Isabel pushed her coffee cup over to him. “Anyone that happy over pastels really needs therapy. And they call us sick.”

This woman was tough. Sean poured her some more coffee. “So how are you on the Disney network?”

“Satanist.”

~~~

Michael made it home first, even after stopping to pick up his part. After they split up, Maria said she would meet him at home, but the Jetta was still missing. Stripping off most of the uniform, Michael went into the kitchen and stood in front of the refrigerator in tight leather pants, a white undershirt, and biker boots, searching for something, anything that would settle his craving. He couldn’t put his finger on what he needed, but the glass bottle of cold milk looked good. Damn, they were almost out! Reaching inside, he took out the bottle and was drinking straight from it, forgetting about the glass. He usually hated milk unless it came with something...something like cookies.

Maria came banging through the door with a brown paper bag under her arm, reaching down to toss off her shoes. Reaching into the bag, she turned to face Michael in front of the refrigerator, standing frozen in her bare feet.

“No! God, tell me that isn’t the last of the milk!” Maria could feel her heart beating hard in her chest, her nostrils flaring at the sight and smell of him.

Michael’s eyes narrowed on the bag and her hand inside it. Putting the bottle of milk behind his back he smiled a predatory smile. “What ya got, Professor? What’s in the bag?”

“Nuthin',” she hid the bag behind her back.

“Professor, don’t lie. No one buys a plain brown bag.” Maria just shook her head no. “Don’t make me get it out of you.” Maria remained strong until Michael took the bottle of milk out from behind him and put it to his lips to down it in one large swig.

“No! Oh God, don’t please...I’ll share. I’ll share.” Maria pulled out a bag of Oreo Doublestuffs from the paper bag. Michael smiled and took out a bowl for the milk, put some in it, and poured the rest into a small glass. The two of them leaned across from each other on the counter with the bowl of milk and the glass between them and the Oreo bag ripped open.

Sean and Isabel stood outside in the garden and watched the scene unfold from the moment Michael rushed in closely followed by Maria. They were devouring the cookies, dipping them in the bowl of milk, and then drinking sips of milk from the glass. Occasionally they would kiss, and then go back to the cookies.

Isabel watched almost horrified. Looking at an equally fascinated Sean, she just shrugged. “And they think we’re the ones needing therapy?”