She sat there, her head throbbing like a hangover after a three day bender. Steady dull ringing shot through her brain, cascading throbbing pulses behind her eyelids. Her mind hazy, not able to focus, everything seems to be a blur. Where
was she anyway. She sat, palms of her hands cupping her face, elbows resting on her knees. Giant dry sobs reek out of her chest. She wants to cry but she has no more tears.
Her ass hurts. Not in any weird way, just from sitting too long on a hard surface. She tries to adjust to get more comfortable but just makes it worse. Dropping one hand from her face, she reaches down next to herself, inadvertently
slapping a cold stone like surface. Stretching her hand out, she best guesses it is eighteen inches wide and unless the small of her back is lying, being pressed up against a cinder block wall and sitting on a concrete shelf.
And it is dark, well maybe not dark but dim. The yellowed plastic covers of the long fluorescent lights give off an eerie amber hue. It's cold, and damp and dingy. Why is she there keeps repeating over and over in get psyche. What
gave I done?
Why?
She shakes her head trying to clear some cobwebs. She internally screams to herself "You're a detective, DETECT!" Instinctively, she rubs her eyes and shakes her head but it only increases the throbbing. She wants to cry but knows it
will do no good. Instead, she gives herself a pep talk. "You must recall every detail no matter how small or insignificant, no matter how embarrassing, no matter how personal ."
Rising, she begins to pace the cramped eight by eight square imprisoning her. "What did I do last?" She questions herself. Not coming up with an answer, she tries to get back to some of her interrogation methods. Yes. She needs to interrogate
herself. "What does she remember last?" Scratching her scalp mindlessly, she still paces. Setting a structured timeline, she feels a 48 hours time gap will help get focus.
"Ok Wednesday, what happened? Right, we finally solved that bizarre case, the one with two murderers and only one victim. The team, with an assist from robbery detective Tom Demming, pulled that one out. She remembers going to file the
charges, walking down the hall with purpose, reviewing the form when she smacked right into the detective. Clutching her forearms to balance her, he then pulled her close, setting his ready lips upon hers. The kiss was brief, almost chaste
then she felt herself lean in again with with which he responded with a hard, full mouth embrace, tracing her lips for entry, and once succeeding, dueled fiercely with her tongue until breaking, gasping for oxygen. She sat quickly, blushing
from the memory.
The memory is coming back more clear as she works hard at remembering. She remembers clasping his hands in hers, he warmly responding. Her cheeks shade rosey, thinking about gazing into his cobol blue eyed. Then spinning on her heel
to return to her desk, giggling slightly while twirling her hair.
Thinking hard, she remembered the team asking her out for a celebratory drink, which she declined, wanting to get the paperwork complete while fresh in her mind. Starting the process, the boys said goodnight and made their way to the elevator. Demming
snuck up behind her, but she knew. Messaging her shoulders, she asked if she was ready to leave. As the elevator door slid shut she could hear goodbye wishes from Espo and Ryan but not the third party leaving. And for some reason
it only bothered her just now, not hearing from the third person.
She ponders further, bristling at Tom for suggesting Remy's. No! she barked back. That place was special and she knows why. They settled on Thai food, a place across town where they would unlikely run into anyone from the 12th. They
hailed a cab once out of the precinct. Tom allowed her to get in first, but felt his eyes lazering onto her backside and was not sure if she liked it. But isn't that the reaction she wanted? Why else wear those tight skinny jeans
with the four inch spike boots? If she were being honest, she knew, she did pause an extra second to make sure he got a good peek. She pondered the memory, right, she nodded to herself, every little detail.
They sat close in the back seat, holding hands for the ride. He seemed like the perfect gentleman. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he made gentle swirling circles on the pad of her palm, relaxing her greatly. He gracefully rested
his hand down on her upper thigh as if it were nothing. She gave it a moment of thought but chose to leave them there. It felt good, natural, as if she found someone she could be with long term, she remembered.
Arriving just after 8, Tom requested a booth in the back where they could have some privacy. She ordered a double Mekhong straight up while Tom, mostly a beer drinker, ordered a Singha. And being quite famished, he quickly added a plate of
beef satay to share. By the time the appetizer arrived, she had drained her spirits and quickly ordered another causing Demming to give her a look.
After taking a sip from the second drink, she began to recant the details of the most bizarre care she had in years. Two killers and one victim. And Demming was instrumental in helping solve it. The banter over every trivial detail kept
their conversation lively. She enjoyed their interaction on the case and really was developing feelings for him over the last month that they have dated. She remembered them holding hands while finishing off each other's sentences while
rehashing the play by play only to be interrupted by the waitress for their dinner orders. She thought to herself that was not important then corrected herself. Details! Every detail she screamed inside her head.
Demming ordered the Ka-Prow she acknowledged while she had the shrimp dish, what was that? Oh yea, she had Koong Pad Prik. And ordered her third Mekhong double. She seemed to think she saw an interesting look on Demmings face when she
ordered it. She struggled to understand his facials.
Dinner conversation turned light and breezy. Demming took control much to her delight. Oh the conversation was good. She loved the way his eyes lit up as he spoke. What did they chat about anyway? She strained her grey matter
to bring it back. Was it important? Yes, she decided, maybe even very important. She sat back down, squirming to find a comfy spot for her rear and failing miserably. Returning to her stoic pose of hands on cheeks and elbows
on knees she searched her soul for the essence of their banter.
"Rewind back", she admonished herself, "dinner, drinks, case post MORTEM, then something fun". Yes, fun talk. His eyes were bright and dare I say, hopeful. Hopeful of what? He had gotten more touchy, more feely. "Wait, he drew
something on the back of the placemat! A map!" Then it comes to her. "Asbury Park, his family has a house down there a block off the ocean!" Her mind is flooded with the dialogue. He regaled her with the fine feel of the white
sand, the excellent resturants, especially Kelly`s that served the best steaks south of Peter Lugar's. He got more personal in the tone she muses, talked of seeing Beaver Brown at the Stone Pony as they were the holiday weekend showcase. She
smiled as she saw his excitement describing all of it.
But what did that have to do with where she is now, sitting on a concrete slab in solitude. "He suggested offhandedly that she to go with him to Asbury Park this weekend!" She shockingly shouted out loud. What did she reply? She
doesn't remember.
Tom had dessert and coffee and she had her forth double. The bill came and Kate fought to pay then offered to split it. Finally she demanded she leave the tip which went unheeded. He opened up the bill fold and let out a low whistle.
She hoped these details were important in the grand scheme of things. Then she felt her anger rise remembering his comment under his breath, saying the she would make it up to him in another way.
They hailed a cab back across town. Once again, Tom thinking he was chivalrous allowing her to enter first, this time placing a hand in her backside ever so subtly. Once inside, he linked their hands together initially. After a few beats,
he reached over and brushed her lips with a gentle kiss saying he had a great time tonight. Hands still together, he once again dropped them on her upper thigh. He tilted his head and began kissing her long supple neck. She was beginning
to get flushed with the memory, especially that she let out a small moan when he luckily hit her sensitive spot. She remembers pulling his chin up and capturing his lips fully, tracing his seam for entry. She squirmed in place uncomfortable
with the memory. Once gaining entry they dueled ferociously with their tongues for what seemed like an eternity, until they reached her apartment.
Feeling the taxi suddenly come to a stop, she released his mouth and tried to exit. Demming jumped out his side first and offered her a hand of assistance. He then excused the cab much to her surprise, yet not really to her displeasure she
recalls. She insisted on walking her to her door claiming profusely that he was a true renaissance man. He held her hand for the ride up to her floor, getting out and pacing the steps toward her door. Reaching 5E she turned
to him, touching his waist with both hands, leaving a wisp of a kiss in his lips, thanking him for a terrific evening and that she would see him tomorrow at the precinct.
In dismay bordering on horror, she brings back the next memory. He leaned hard into her, the front door bowing from the pressure. His lips crushing hers, his tongue like a crowbar prying for entry. Kate has to stand now, her feelings
swelling up in her and pacing the cramped stall may help settle her. Next she remembers submitting to his pressure and relaxing into the kiss. His hands explored her, down her back with his left, around her hip with his right. Embarrassingly,
she had to admit she did enjoy it.
Next, he skillfully nudged his knee between her thighs, almost reaching her core. She felt herself involuntarily pulsating herself upon the knee and thigh, catching her breath between succulent kisses. Snapping back to reality, her cheeks
were full red and she felt a sensation in her lower region. She was not sure what she was more embarrassed about, her teasing and leading him on, if the fact they were still in the hallway, in public.
"Maybe" she considered "he felt he could capitalize on me having four drinks". He had no idea of her capacity for alcohol as she could drink like a sailor on shore leave. No she concluded she was a bit horny. What happened next, she
struggled with.
"Let me in" she distinctly recalled Tom saying as he fumbled with the button of her jeans. Confused, she was unsure if he meant her pants or her apartment. He bit down on her neck causing her to thrust forward. Slowly losing her struggle
with virtue every minute they embrace, she snapped out of her LOVE HAZE when she felt a sand papery small tongue licking her ankle.
"ARCHIE!" She remembers exclaiming, breaking her grasp of Tom's hair and neck. She leaned down to pet the little pup, a beautiful Pomeranian. "Archie, come back here" his owner ordered. Smoothing down her shirt and re-clasping her pants
with her back to Mrs. Everett, her overly observant neighbor. She reached down to scratch behind the dog's ears as the owner waddled over to secure him for his nightly walk. Once firmly on his leash, she relinquished control.
Reaching back up to a bewildered Demming, leaving a peck on his cheek, she escaped inside her apartment securing the three locks before Tom knew what happened.
Sitting once again on the stone, she knows she dodged a bullet but has no idea what or why.