AN: This is written in response to a writer's challenge. The prompt given to writers to use is in bold text. Thanks to the talented "meixel" for enticing my muse with this challenge.

Special thanks goes to the lovely "honu59" for taking the time to beta read this for me.

Tanith

The Thing

"So, are we good to go?" Steve grinned broadly at his mentor, who stood to one side of the doorway and invited him inside his home.

"I am but Jeannie's still grabbing a few things to take with her. Why don't you go on upstairs and let her know that we'd better get going if we want to catch that flight. I'll start loading all this stuff into the car," Mike said as he gestured to the luggage he'd left by the door then picked up the first two suitcases.

"No problem," Steve called back chirpily as he headed for the stairs. When he saw Mike disappear out the front door, he started climbing the steps slowly just as a mischievous thought entered his mind. When he reached the top of the stairs, he could hear music coming from Jeannie's bedroom. And he knew that the tunes blaring from the radio would drown out his footsteps as he drew closer to his destination and his target. Perfect!

To Steve's relief, the door to Jeannie's room was opened all the way which meant that there was no danger of walking in on her getting dressed. Not that he objected to seeing Jeannie wearing less clothing but unless she made it clear to him that she had no objections either, then that avenue was out of bounds. Still, a guy can dream can't he?

Peering around the door frame, Steve watched in amusement while the young Miss Stone danced to the beat of the song and sang into the imaginary microphone she held in her hand. She punched the air when the song ended then began rummaging through the top drawer of her dresser. Steve stepped over the threshold then sneaked up behind the unsuspecting girl. A frustrated harrumph escaped Jeannie's throat then she launched several items of clothing over her shoulder and right at the young Inspector, who caught one of them out of reflex before it met with his face. Looking down at his serendipitous acquisition, Steve untangled his fingers from the straps then held up the lacy thing in front of him. Realizing that he was holding something that Mike would probably kill him for holding, Steve's grin slipped from his face and his eyes grew wide. Suddenly he felt far too warm for comfort. Before he had a chance to throw the thing onto the bed, a knock on the door almost made him jump ten feet in the air. His heart rate suddenly escalated and he wondered if it would leap right out of his chest at any moment.

Jeannie switched off the radio on the dresser then turned to let her father know she would be down in a minute only to find Steve standing stock still, clutching her bra in both hands. "Steve!" Then noticing that Steve had his head turned toward the door, she followed his gaze and found her father. "Mike! What's going on?"

Mike stood leaning at the doorway of his daughter's bedroom, his arms folded and a bemused expression on his face. "That's what I'd like to know."

With a nervous laugh, Steve tossed the now offending apparel to Jeannie then ran his hands through his hair. "I…um…er, you see, I was on my way up here and I, well, it, the thing is….Jeannie, help me out here, will ya?"

"Help you out with what, Steve?" Jeannie asked in a sweetly innocent voice.

Steve realized that Jeannie had him right where she wanted him. He decided to try explaining himself to Mike, that it wasn't his fault Jeannie threw her bra at him unintentionally. But the look that the senior detective was giving him was anything but merciful. He turned several shades of red. "Nothing happened, okay? Really! Don't look at me like that."

Clearing his throat, Mike said in a serious tone, "Buddy Boy, your fashion taste has always been questionable to me but this, well, this I wasn't quite expecting. I mean, wearing women's clothing is not going to win you more dates. At least not the kind you normally go for."

Jeannie stole a glance in Mike's direction then she burst out laughing.

Steve met Mike's gaze and saw that he had broken into a grin.

"This is why I sent you up here, Buddy Boy. I'm used to the fact that my daughter can get a little careless when it comes to throwing her laundry around," Mike quipped.

"You were watching the whole time, weren't you?"

"I realized after you went up that I should've warned you about her. I saw you walk in here and something went flying your way. Guess I was a little late."

Steve let out a deep sigh then sat down on the edge of the bed. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or embarrassed or both. But he was sure glad of one thing: that Mike couldn't read minds.

The End