Aitch sighed into his left palm as it supported the weight of his head, resting his elbow on the kitchen island counter with tired, half closed eyes. The smell of fresh brewed Colombian coffee filled his nostrils from the coffeemaker next to him and the cup of black liquid steaming in his right fist. Opposite him, in the wide open livingroom, the big screen plasma television nattered on about local Seattle news events of the day. He only half listened to it as his bleary eyes tried to wake up.
He was bent over the island counter in a pair of black pajama pants with little AC/DC band logos all over it. Maybe he needed to play some Back in Black to wake himself up. The coffee was not much help.
Behind him sizzled the strips of bacon and sausages in two frying pans on the stove top. The overhead fan whirred annoyingly to vent out the smoke. Maybe some meat in his gut would give him the energy to start the day.
There was some faint commotion in the hallway outside the apartment door and a rapid fire hammering on the door.
Aitch cast a tired glance at the door, sighed again and shuffled over to the door, drinking hot black java from his mug as he went. The hammering was getting insistent by the time he reached the door, twisted the bolt lock and twisted the knob.
The door burst open and something short and blond in a faded green vest and short khaki half-pants pushed past him and into his apartment, yelling: "Hide me!!"
"Won't you come in," Aitch deadpanned, slowly closing the door and turning to face his visitor, leaning on the doorknob.
The teen looked panicked and frantic. She stared at Aitch and/or the door.
There was a knock at the door. "Seattle Police!"
The teen seemed to get more agitated.
Aitch motioned with his coffee cup for the strange girl to go down the hallway to her right, past the television, out of sight. She seemed to understand and ran into hiding. He opened the door to two rather exhausted beat cops, both breathing heavy as if having chased someone up several floors. He blocked their entry to his home.
"Isn't it kinda early in the morning to be banging on doors?" Aitch said, tiredly, sipping from his mug.
The first cop, a big guy with broad shoulders and an angry face, glared at him. "It's five at night."
"Isn't it kinda early in the evening to be banging on doors?" Aitch modified, taking another drink while staring at the two beat cops with neutral, disinterested eyes.
"Did a blond kid run in here?" the second cop, a thinner and younger version of the first cop said, between gasps.
"You mean through this door that I just opened for you?" Aitch asked, rhetorically.
"Yeah."
"No."
The first cop asked, with a touch of skepticism: "You sure?"
"Well, it's hard to tell, what with all the other kids running in and out of this place," Aitch answered, perhaps a tad sarcastically. "Whoops! There goes one now..."
They stared at each other a moment in silence and it was obvious that these two beat cops did not share in his sense of humor. "Do you mind if we have a look inside?"
"The maid hasn't tidied, so I'm not really ready to receive visitors," Aitch smiled. Well, tried to smile but he was really too tired for this. "Perhaps another time."
As he tried to close the door, the younger cop put out his arm and his hand stopped the door. "Are you hiding something?"
"Just my love of old show tunes." Aitch nodded at the cops hand on his door. "Mind?"
"Hiding a fugitive is a crime," the first cop said, plainly.
Aitch smiled again, this time a bit more pleasantly. "I liked the fugitive. Harrison Ford was very convincing. Okay, bye-bye." And he closed the door, leaving two boggled beat cops boggling in the hallway.
He went back to his perch in the kitchen, checking on the sizzling bacon and sausages which were almost done. He leaned on his left palm and stared at the television screen.
The strange blond slowly emerged from the hallway that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms, cautiously eying the door. She looked over at Aitch leaning on the island in the kitchen. "Thanks, dude. You saved my life."
"My first good deed of the morning," Aitch mumbled.
"Uh, it's night time, dude," the blond corrected.
Aitch looked at the blond in his livingroom and sighed. "I give up."
She moved for the door, seeming to be about to leave. "Ok, I'm outtie."
"They're still out there, blonderella." He thought that was rather obvious, but felt he should say it, never the less. "Might want to give it a few minutes for them to get tired and wander away."
The blond seemed to be sizing him up. Probably judging if he was a threat to her. "You're not a murdering child rapist or something, are ya?"
"Not today," he sighed, the excitement of the moment having left him. "Hungry?"
The blond sniffed the air. "Is that bacon?"
"And sausage. Want some?"
Like a starving animal, the blond made her way over to the other side of the counter. "Just for future reference, that is a dumb question." She grinned at him.
Aitch raised an eyebrow at his visitor.
"Mama loves her meat!"
Shaking his head, he took out two plates and loaded crispy strips of bacon and sausages on them, setting one in front of his blond guest and one before him. He fished a mug out of the cupboard and put it on the counter by her plate. "Hope you like black coffee. It's all I got."
The blond was already into her bacon before he even touched the first strip.
"Do you ever chew?" he asked, nonchalantly.
The blond opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to display half chewed smoked pig. "Mlah!"
"That's attractive," Aitch deadpanned and bit into a sausage.
"So," the blond began between strips of bacon. "I suppose you wanna know why the cops were chasing me..."
Aitch started in on his bacon. "Not really, no."
Blonderella stared at the pajama clad man for a moment. She shrugged and continued polishing the meat off of her plate. "Cool." She finished the last sausage and reached over to her host's plate to snatch a strip of bacon.
Aitch watched the blond's hand snake over to his plate and steal away some of his bacon, giving her an arched eyebrow.
Pausing a moment upon seeing her host's face, she said: "You know, bacon's bad for your arteries at your age. I'm saving your life, dude." She popped the bacon in her mouth and chewed.
"Guess that makes us even," Aitch chuckled.
The blond wiped her mouth with the back of her right hand and stuck it out over the counter. "Name's Sam."
Aitch took the hand and gave it a brief shake. "Aitch."
"As in the letter?"
"As in my name." He released Sam's hand and took her plate and his over to the sink. "I have to go get changed," he told her, as he headed for the bedroom down the hallway on the other side of the apartment. "Feel free to hang out."
Sam did a few casual pirouettes around the living room, stretching out her arms as she spun, wasting time as she rotated over to the sofa and plopped herself down, her legs flying up to land on the coffee table. She reached forward and grabbed the remote and started flicking through satellite channels on the 72 inch plasma on the wall.
Boy. Did she pick the right apartment. She was absently glad that Carly was out today. Although, she's not sure how the brunette would have handled the two cops. Jeeze. You throw one egg at one cop car and you'd think she was public enemy number one.