The Way It Really Happens
Lennie reached out, deflecting the lotion dispenser before it could hit Anita in the head, but he couldn't fend off all the books that had started to wiggle out of the shelves of the bookcase headboard.
"Ow!" Anita said as one of the books hit her, then she laughed.
"I told you not to load up the shelves," Lennie said as he laughed too.
Lennie hoped he could find a position that would allow him to both increase his tempo as he made love to her, and stop worrying that she'd end up with a concussion rather than an orgasm.
This next drabble was the result of a challenge at one of the livejournal Communities, it's set back during Lennie's drinking days.
It's My Life
"You gotta stop drinking and running around with married women or you're gonna be dead!"
"It's my life, isn't it?" Lennie's own loud, angry response made him grimace.
"Yeah, but I'm the one who's gonna have to explain to Mama if her baby boy throws it away."
Lennie hung his head and folded his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, sit there in defiant silence like when you were a kid! You're the one with the brains, talent, looks, why don't you do something with it?
"I am! It's just not what you want me to do, but it's my life."
A response to a challenge simply entitled Spam
Lesson #3 in emailing
"Lennie, I'm glad you've finally joined the 21st century by learning how to send email and I'm glad you're following my suggestion to always put something in the subject line, but I think we need to work a bit on your email etiquette," Anita said as she tried not to laugh at the sleepy-eyed detective.
"What did I do wrong?" Lennie said sounding hurt.
"Well, replying to a message sent to the entire NYPD about the budget crisis and our contracts with 'Does it need Viagra?' was bound to overload the network!" she said, finally giving in to her laughter.