No money is made off of Peter Gunn and his world and no harm is intended. Pete is awfully fine to look at if Edie doesn't catch you!
Ending for Season 2 Episode 34: The Semi Private Eye.
Rating T is for a wardrobe malfunction!
The Not So Private Eye Opener
Pete sat down in the straight backed chair in Lieutenant Jacoby's office, slowly lifting his trouser leg on to his opposite knee, reminding himself he WAS a man.
Not only was he decidedly male, he had gotten beaten up and punched and shot at and left for dead more than his share, he was sure of it. Still he couldn't help but grit his teeth a little as he carefully rolled his sock down, grimacing at the sight of the bruise that seemed to cover his entire leg. He couldn't remember when he had seen such a lovely blue and black combination in his life and he had a feeling it would get worse before it got better.
"Just be glad it wasn't your eye." Jacoby remarked somewhat sarcastically as he walked into his own office and shut the door. "Don't tell me, it was a very short man or a very blind one." He found himself amusing as he sat down at his desk. "What are you doing here anyway?"
The private investigator gave his friend a sour glance before gently pulling his sock back into place and pulling his pants cuff back down. The bruise really hurt. Jacoby had joked about being glad it wasn't his eye, but he almost wished it was. The last black eye he'd received had been a piece of cake compared to this. Of course the aim on the black eye had been off. This time around the aim had been dead on.
"What? I'm not allowed to stop by my favorite police precinct to visit my favorite cop?" Pete tried one of his urbane smiles but it turned out more of a wince.
"Not without a very good reason." Jacoby leaned forward and clasped his hands on his desk. His usually humorless but always soulful brown eyes held just a little hint of amusement. "Are you here to report a crime? Or did one of your clients balk at paying that outrageous fee you always charge and decide to run over you instead?" The amusement turned into a quirky smile. "You really need to watch it, Pete. It's like you walk around with a bulls-eye painted on your forehead." The smile got wider. "Or maybe someone taped one of those 'Kick Me' signs to your back. Turn around and let me look."
"Very funny." Pete wasn't laughing.
"What happened?" The policeman turned serious.
"It's really nothing. I'm not sure I want to talk about it."
"You don't act like its nothing."
"Look..." Pete pushed himself out of the straight-backed chair next to the Lieutenant's desk. "Let's just forget about it, okay? I just thought I'd come by for a little conversation and maybe a quick cup of coffee." He grimaced as he took a step toward the door, his hand resting on the knob as he turned back to his friend. "I've got things to do so I'll just be on my way."
Pete walked out of the office, slowly shutting the door behind him, letting it bang a little more than he should have. He was half way down the hall before he heard the door open and Jacoby's voice yelling, "Pete? Pete, come on back here."
The investigator shook his head, a slight smile on his face. What would he do without good old Jacoby?
Pete found maneuvering the stairs more than a little difficult, not to mention stepping off the curb as he crossed the street to his car. It was amazing what one little 5'8" blonde could do with a pair of black shoes with bows on them. The bows were camouflage for the secret weapon underneath he thought and grinned. Yes, he loved his joke, wasn't he witty?
He drove down River Street three blocks to Myers Rexall Pharmacy, hobbling in the door. The bell on the door rang, sending Joe Myers out of his office in the back. "Should have known it'd be you Mr. Gunn." The older man smiled. "I don't get many customers at 4:00 in the morning."
"You must get enough to make it worthwhile," Pete pointed out.
"I guess so. What can I do for you?"
"Is there any help for a bruise? A very painful one?"
"Can't you ever get a case where someone doesn't get the best of you?" the older man teased him.
"If only it were that simple."
He bought the Epsom salts the pharmacist suggested and a copy of the latest Life Magazine since the other man had suggested he soak his shin for about half an hour. He had a feeling it might be the only thing he'd be holding in the bathtub for a long time.
The box told him to add two cups of Epsom salt to warm bath water and soak for at least twelve minutes. He supposed he could have just sat on the edge of the tub and soaked his foot and lower leg, but a nice warm bath sounded much better. Especially after the night he'd had. That idiot kid Eric Janos thought he was the real thing when it came to being a private detective, as he called himself. Pete liked Private Investigator better. People like Eric Janos was one reason why. They gave detectives a bad name. Hopefully the kid had learned a lesson and would go back to work for his father's company and not look back. He could take Sugar with him.
Pete lowered the Life Magazine and raised his leg. The bruise looked the same, but what did he expect. It wasn't going to go away with a little soak and would probably hurt ten times as much later on today. He reached out and grabbed his watch from the top of the clothes hamper. It was almost 7 AM already and Edie hadn't shown up. It wasn't often that they weren't already in their nightclothes and crawling into bed to sleep, or hopefully something else, at this hour. He had stopped by Mother's after helping Jacoby with a few reports on the Cranfield mess, on the off-chance that Edie might still be there, but the place had already been locked up. And she wasn't at the apartment when he got here. So she apparently was mad enough at him that she went to her own place, something that didn't happen very often. Almost never actually.
He wasn't really a trifler was he? She was just joking about that surely. He would never consider her affections a trivial matter. She wasn't a plaything to him. She was the woman he loved and would one day marry. But he didn't blame her for being angry. Just another thing to blame on Eric Janos. If it hadn't been for him none of this would have happened. His leg wouldn't feel like it had been pounded with a meat cleaver and he and Edie would be spending a normal morning together. Whatever normal was for them anyway.
Pete looked at his watch again. He'd been soaking for half an hour. Letting out a deep sigh he tossed the magazine to the floor, pulled the plug from the drain and lifted himself out of the tub, grabbing a towel from the rack and quickly drying off before walking into the bedroom and putting on a clean pair of boxers. Then he limped downstairs, holding tightly to the rail, to look for something to eat.
The Emergency Room was finally starting to thin out around 6 AM and the giggly, dirty-blonde nurse behind the desk put the phone receiver down for the first time since Edie and Emmett had arrived, which according to the sterling silver and diamond watch on her wrist (a recent 'I love you gift' from Pete) had been exactly four hours and thirty minutes ago.
She knew she shouldn't have kicked Pete like that but she couldn't stop herself. She should be happy she had a man who was dedicated to his work and clients above all else, but sometimes she just wasn't.
He had left slightly limping, but he could have been trying to elicit sympathy couldn't he? And she had gone back to work, promising herself she'd make it up to him later that night.
But the more she had stood the worse her right foot had hurt and by 1:00 AM she couldn't put pressure on it without wanting to cry.
Mother had insisted that Emmett drive her to the ER and after filling out a stack of paperwork she wanted to call Pete, but Emmett said no he'd do it so she wouldn't have to stand. Pete hadn't been home when the pianist had called at 2:00 and again at 3:30. That in itself made Edie worry for him because whatever case he had left her for wasn't over yet. Emmett, recognizing the look on her face, called Mother who said Pete hadn't been by and Lieutenant Jacoby promised if he saw hide or hair of the detective he'd be sure to tell him where Edie was.
And now here it was 6:00 in the morning and he wasn't answering his phone and the last time Emmett had called Mother at 4:00 she said he'd not been in and the Lieutenant's phone was answered by someone named Sergeant Keaton who said Jacoby had gone off duty at 5:00. Was he really that angry with her?
A nurse came out and called 'Edie Hart,' Emmett helping her up. "You're having pain in your right foot?" The red-haired nurse looked almost dubious.
"Yes, I'm having trouble standing on it without pain."
She got the blonde a wheelchair and took her into another room where she sat for another half hour.
Finally the doctor came in, a nice looking man with a friendly smile. He left long enough for her to remove her stockings then told her to wiggle her toes, and then try to move them apart. After she had done that, he examined the bones in her foot and toes, noticing when and how loud she winced.
"I don't know what your foot ran into Miss Hart, but thankfully your toes aren't broken, just sprained. I'm going to give you a couple of pain pills and I want you stay off your feet for a day."
He helped her back out to the waiting room where Emmett was trying not to fall asleep. "Ready?" He asked.
"Yes, anything from Pete?"
"Sorry Edie." He shook his head.
He either must be dead or was planning to never speak to her again.
The little ginger colored cat appeared out of nowhere to beg for a bite of the sliced roast beef Pete was applying to two pieces of bread. His little meows, really not so little now that he was a full grown cat, were becoming demanding as the PI paid little attention to him, his mind still with Edie.
"Yeah, I know," he absently answered one irritable yowl as he spread some mayonnaise on one slice of bread and mustard on the other. "Your Mommy must be really put out with me this time. This would have proven it even if she hadn't kicked me in the shin." He lifted his foot off the floor, just the thought of the bruise making it throb.
The feline became more vocal as Pete began piling meat onto the sandwich, strutting two and fro and rubbing at the man's legs, his vocal resentment of being forgotten almost drowning out the sound of the door opening, but not quite. Pete's ears pricked up at the noise and he stepped away from the counter to go out and greet his girl. If she'd come home she must be getting over her irritation at him.
But there was another voice. A deeper voice. Oh great, Pete thought. Maybe she'd gone out to breakfast with some of the guys after work to blow off some steam before she came home. That was it! And one of them had brought her home. Probably Emmett. She'd still been mad and wanted to cool off. He quickly turned around and headed around to the laundry room to find something to put on over his boxers. All he found was a t-shirt. He pulled it over his head with a snort, his own irritation showing. This was his home, by golly. If he wanted to wander around in his boxers that was his business! He heard the two of them talking as he neared the living room.
"I appreciate your help, Emmett. You didn't have to go to all this trouble, I would have made it all right from the car."
"And have the 'Wrath of Pete' bearing down on me? No thanks."
Pete heard the smile in the piano player's voice. He saw the shoes in Edie's hand. He watched her limp to the sofa before either noticed he was there. He frowned. Kind of. More an amused scowl as he figured out what was wrong. The thought that it only served her right could have crossed his mind but it didn't. He was only concerned for her.
"What happened?" He knew. They both knew. But he had to ask anyway and tried not to laugh.
Emmett turned his head to look at the PI as Edie plopped herself down on the sofa.
"Whoa, Pete!" Emmett hid a smile behind his hand but Pete could see the laughter on his face.
Alarmed, the detective quickly glanced down at himself. Was his fly open? That's all he needed!
Pete took a quick glance down in that general direction noting the buttons that held this particular kind of boxers closed were doing their job. Letting out a a sigh of relief he wondered if maybe Emmett hadn't been playing the piano a little too loudly, when he heard Edie gasp, "Pete!"
The alarm in her voice made him look again and then he saw it. Not just any it, but the "male" it, happily laying freely against his leg.
"Excuse me."
He turned tail to the kitchen, gathering the room was much faster to reach than the upstairs and there wasn't any way he was going past Emmett to reach the powder room on the other side of him.
'You are the biggest idiot in the world'. Pete's heart was pumping so hard he wondered if he might be having a heart attack.
He heard Edie saying thank you to Emmett in a somewhat hurried voice out in the living room and he assured her he was happy to have helped. "I guess we'll see you day after tomorrow?" And the PI assumed his girlfriend nodded.
How could not have noticed that? He had been dressing himself for over thirty years. It wasn't like his, well his 'manhood', hadn't been a part of him all his life. "How could you embarrass me like this"? He addressed it. He knew some guys in college had had names for their private parts but it had never occurred to him.
Oh great! Was he really so flustered he was talking to it? He'd never be able to look at Emmett in the eye again. Right at this moment he wondered if he'd even be able to function again!
He started to pull the blue checked underpants back up, when he yanked too hard and heard a rip up the back.
"Pete!"
The door to the kitchen swung open and he heard bare feet coming up before he saw Edie's golden head approaching him, a look on her face he couldn't decipher.
Pete leaned back against the Frigidaire and raised his hands to his face and scrubbed them roughly up and down, knowing his ears were still burning red though his face didn't feel as warm as he knew it had been. He didn't know whether he should continue to feel embarrassed or laugh at the situation or cry. This was his place, his own home, he should be able to walk around in his underwear if he wanted to. Or less! And it wasn't like Edie to bring someone home with her, even if it was only Emmett or one of her girlfriends, without letting him know. What if it had been June or Lynn or even Mother who was with her? He felt his face begin to warm up again.
Pete peeked between his fingers, knowing Edie was standing right in front of him, almost as close as his personal space would allow. She still had that unreadable look on her face. Then she reached out and poked at him with her index finger. There. Right there where those two buttons were now snugly and properly fastened together and his parts tucked securely out of the way. Good thing too, because as soon as he felt the touch of her finger part of those parts started searching for that opening again.
"So I guess you're not mad at me," the blonde finally smirked, "or the little guy wouldn't have been so happy to see me." She gave him another poke and moved closer, her smirk becoming an amused wide smile.
The PI let his hands slide down his cheeks a few inches so that he was looking at her over the top of his fingers.
"Just let me be embarrassed in peace," he muttered.
Edie have a little look of concern.
"Where have you been?" she asked. "Emmett tried to find you all morning. He even resorted to calling Lieutenant Jacoby."
"I've been here," he told her through his hands. "After I finished up my case and helped Jacoby with the reports. And called around looking for you," he stressed. "Where were you?"
"Emmett took me to the emergency room," she said. "Why didn't you answer the telephone?"
"The telephone never rang. The emergency room?"
Edie sighed.
"Mother made him take me." Now it was her turn to feel embarrassed. "My foot really started to hurt and... and I thought my toes might have been broken," she muttered. Quickly she continued as he dropped his hands to her hips and gave her a concerned frown. "They're just sprained. I'm supposed to stay off my feet until tomorrow."
Pete pushed away and looked down at her feet. They were both bare, her stockings gone and he figured stuck inside her shoes, the toes on her right foot starting to form dark bruises along the joints. He sighed and shook his head.
"What am I going to do with you?"
"I'm sorry, Pete."
The PI chuckled and leaned forward to drop a kiss on her nose.
"Tell you what. I was making a sandwich. How about I make you one too, then you can take a bath with the Epsom salts I got at the drugstore." At her raised eyebrows he shifted his right leg and looked down, her gaze following his to the blackening bruise that seemed to be growing larger even as she watched.
"Oh, Pete," the woman lamented.
The man chuckled and shook his head again and this time gave her a hard kiss on the lips.
"After that I'll do my part in keeping you off your feet," he said suggestively and winked. "I saw your blue pajamas in the dryer. Why don't you go put those on while I take care of feeding us?" He suggested. He watched her smile and reach a hand to his cheek then she disappeared in the direction of the laundry room.
There was one slice of bread where there should have been two. The roast beef had disappeared. Hadn't it? He was almost certain... Pete turned his head at a sound from the other side of the refrigerator. There sat that darn cat, his little pink tongue licking his little pink lips. Bright yellow mustard covered his cheeks and nose. He made a contented mew and waddled across the floor and into the living room.