Not my characters, just my story. I only wish I owned Pete. The story is best read if you've seen the series and know the characters. If you haven't seen it lately, watch, enjoy.

Mother finished drying the last glass and set it bottom-up in the cabinet behind her before tossing the used towel into the laundry bucket. Picking up a wet cloth she began washing down the bar, eventually coming to a stop in front of the glum-faced woman seated at the end of the bar closest to the pay phone. Elbow on the bar, chin in hand, Edie Hart stared forlornly toward the door. Being past closing time it didn't open to admit any customers, and it didn't open to admit him either. Peter Gunn hadn't graced her with his presence since she impulsively shoved him off the dock and into the river when he chose business over her several nights earlier. She was beginning to wonder if she'd finally gone too far and had driven him away. That thought scared her. She slanted her gaze across the bar at Mother and sighed.

"You think I screwed up, don't you?"

"Doesn't matter what I think," Mother clipped in a scratchy voice. She sure wished these two kids would get their act together.

"You're a big help," Edie huffed.

"I don't figure it's any of my business," the older woman retorted brusquely as she rested her arms on the bar and leaned toward Edie, her cleaning temporarily forgotten. "I will tell you one thing though. If you were a man and you'd done the same thing to him, he would've come back up here and broken your jaw."

Edie's eyes widened.

"Don't give me that look. You know it as well as I do. And if you were any other woman you'd be counting your losses."

Mother grabbed her rag and finished her washing job, save for the spot where Edie's elbow still rested. Then she picked up a clean towel and began drying and shining the surface. After a few minutes she spoke again without sparing a glance for the pretty woman sitting in a funk a few feet away.

"Sometimes I wonder why either one of you puts up with what the other one does. Then Pete walks through that door and sees you and gets all goo-goo eyed. And you start singing and every regular in the club knows you're singing every word straight to him." She glanced up briefly. "Seems to me it must be worth everything you put each other through or you wouldn't be together."

Edie offered up a small lopsided smile.

"Thought you said it was none of your business."

Finished with her task, Mother nodded at Barney as the bartender headed out, pulling the front door shut behind him.

"It's not. What's between you two is your own business." Mother's eyes softened but her tone remained brusque. "I've watched Pete grow into a fine man over the years, from a brash young kid a few years out of the service, coming in here to rustle up clients because he couldn't afford a fancy office, to a man that anyone would be proud to know."

Mother pulled open the register drawer and began counting out the petty cash necessary for opening the following evening.

"I didn't think there was any way in the world he could be a better man than he already was...until that night he came in here when you were auditioning. He got that glazed look in his eyes that's never gone away." Mother turned her head toward Edie and gave her a pointed look. "He tries harder and works harder and pushes himself harder because of you. And he becomes a better man every single day because of that."

She pulled out her keys as a sign she was ready to close up, a thin smile on her lips as the inclined her head toward the door.

"Now why don't you go find that man of yours and do whatever it is you two do when you make up." Another pointed look. "And don't think for a second Pete won't be getting the exact same lecture the very next time he sets foot in here."

A trepidatious smile on her own face, Edie tucked her purse under her arm and made her way around the bar, stopping to give the older woman a fierce hug.

"If I was ten years younger I'd give you a run for your money." At Edie's look Mother qualified that. "Okay, twenty years." She raised her eyebrows at Edie's still amused gaze. "What? Some fellas like an older woman."

A soft knock at his apartment door had Peter Gunn looking up from his book with a frown. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost four in the morning. Placing the book face down on the sofa, he stood and walked across the living room to the door, tightening the belt of his robe along the way. He hesitated as he placed his hand on the doorknob. Funny business often ensued when he opened the door first and asked questions later.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

The corners of his mouth tipped up at the subdued answer from the other side.

"Hmmm. Me who?" He made sure his question held a hint of suspicion. "I know quite a few people named me. You'd really be surprised. And some of them..." He shook his head and tsked. "Some of them I'm not sure I'd want to invite into my apartment at this hour of the night."

"Pete!" Her voice held some frustration and he heard what must have been the thump of her forehead hitting the door.

"Nope, sorry, that can't be right either. There's only one Pete around here and that would be me." He leaned a broad shoulder against the door and crossed his arms. "You sure you have the right apartment?"

This time the frustration came in the form of a sigh.

Then, "Can I come in?"

By now Pete was smiling broadly and he was pretty sure she could hear it in his voice when he answered back.

"Why don't you use your key?"

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to."

His smile slipped a little at the uncertainty in her voice. He unlocked the door and opened it, grabbed her arm and pulled her into the apartment.

"Of course I want."

Pete pushed the door shut, relieved her of her purse and tossed it to a side table in one fluid motion. He'd taken only half a step back so Edie was tucked firmly between him and the door. He raised his arms and rested his hands against the door, framing her head, his gaze absorbing the beauty of her features.

"Hi." He went first.

"Hi."

Edie watched as his eyes dropped to the soft cotton dress she was wearing. She could physically feel his gaze as it slipped over her, could feel the duck bumps a mere glance from this man could raise on her skin.

"You know what?"

She shook her head hesitantly.

"You're very pretty."

His voice was deep and husky and sexy and she loved it. Just as she loved the solid warmth of his body pressing against hers. It was something she could never, would never, get enough of. Just Pete being Pete. She felt him move his body almost imperceptibly closer, as if he could read her mind.

Her lips parted in the smile she reserved just for him, though tonight it seemed more restrained than usual.

"Are you still mad at me?" Her fingers plucked at the belt of his robe.

"Who said I was mad?"

"You haven't come by the last two nights." She dropped her gaze to the hollow of his throat, watched the faint pulse beating there. "I thought maybe-"

He reluctantly lifted his gaze from its intimate perusal and dropped a soft kiss on her lips.

"I was working last night, finishing up the case. Tonight I just figured I'd give you some time to cool off."

"I'm sorry, Pete-"

He tapped a finger against her lips to silence her.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about. I shouldn't have made a promise and then let something else interfere with it. You're much more important to me than that." Another kiss, this one a little deeper. "Won't happen again."

Her smile came back, this time full force, like the sun emerging from behind a cloud, and he just couldn't help himself. Something not uncommon around her, only her. He pushed her back against the door, their bodies flush, his forearms resting against the door on either side of her shoulders, an inseparable warmth between them. He dipped his head, capturing her lips in a deep kiss. Rough and passionate, it seemed to go on forever, his tongue gaining entrance, slipping past her lips to tangle with her own. Her arms found their way inside his robe and beneath his pajama shirt, slipping up his back to hold on tight. She felt his body respond in oh so many delicious ways as she ran her fingernails softly down his sides. Then he was pushing away from her, his breathing uneven has he took her hand and turned her toward the stairs, flipping the living room and foyer lights off at the same time.

"What do you say we head upstairs?" If possible his voice had dropped an octave and his eyes had darkened to match the shadows of the dimly lit apartment.

"What's upstairs?" she asked breathily, tossing a mischievous glance over her shoulder as he urged her ahead of him up the steps, his chest a solid warmth against her back.

"A big soft bed where we can both get a few hours sleep-"

"I don't think so-" With a soft and suggestive laugh.

"-before I get up and fix us some breakfast."

"And then?"

"Then we'll figure out what to do with the rest of our day," he told her, giving a sly wink as he ushered her into the bedroom.

Edie Hart opened her eyes several hours later, sleepily observing the curtains blowing listlessly, a cool breeze coming through the open window and a distant rumble heralding an approaching storm. Turning her head to the right she gazed upon the man sleeping beside her. He lay on his stomach, sprawled across the side of the bed closest to the bedroom door, both arms tucked under his pillow, his face turned in her direction. A shadow of stubble grazed his chin and the cheek that was visible. Edie smiled and admired. And admired and smiled some more.

"Why're you staring at me?" Pete's mumbled question brought her out of her reverie.

"Because I can," she smilingly answered. "And what makes you think I was staring?" He hadn't even open his eyes yet.

"Detective. Remember? I can sense these things."

He lay there and she continued to admire. Then, turning onto her side, she reached out and lay her hand on his cheek, softly stroking along his jawline, this time letting her fingers do the admiring. She loved these times, when it was just the two of them. No distractions. No work. Just her and Pete. These were the times that made it all worthwhile, and she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Her hand slipped down to his shoulder, then played along his ribs before dropping to the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

"Why are you touching me?" Another sleepy mumble into his pillow.

"Because you're my fella, and that's what a girl does to her fella."

"Your fella, huh?"

"That's the word around town." Her voice was lazy and sexy, one finger feathering along the edge of his pajamas.

"And just what does being Edie Hart's fella entail?" The eye visible to Edie opened a crack.

"Being Peter Gunn," she responded softly.

"Oh, yeah? That's all?" He turned to face her, slipping an arm beneath her body and pulling her close while giving her a firm kiss. "I think I just might be able to handle that."

She smiled against his lips.

Breakfast might just have to wait.

Pete was quiet as he sipped on his coffee, his eyes absently following his girl as she moved around the kitchen. He missed most of Edie's concerned glances but his eyes smiled appreciatively when their gazes did happen to meet. She wondered what was on his mind but experience told her she might as well just wait it out. She lifted a pan from the stove and transferred eggs to two plates to go along with the bacon already there, then added toast as it popped. Pete sat back and raised an eyebrow as his plate was set in front of him on the table.

"I figured you might be hungry."

The even tone of her voice was innocent yet provocative at the same time. How she always managed that Pete didn't know but it did elicit a chuckle from him.

"I knew I should have fixed it myself. This is enough to feed an army."

"I wasn't sure whether your plans for the rest of the day might include some maneuvers that would require a lot of energy," she answered back rather suggestively, setting her own plate down. She grinned widely as he almost choked on his coffee.

"Where do you even come up with that stuff?" Pete narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Have you been reading those trashy True Stories again?" he teased.

Edie simply shook her head and watched him tuck into his breakfast. After eating a few bites of toast she took a sip of coffee and finally decided to bite the bullet so to speak. She leaned her elbows on the table, pulling up the too long sleeves of his robe she was wearing.

"Pete?"

"Hmmm?"

She waited until he looked up from buttering a slice of toast, his gaze quizzical.

"What's bothering you?"

"Who says anything's bothering me?"

"I can tell."

He gave a noncommittal grunt and continued eating.

"Does it have something to do with your last case?"

He sighed and set down his fork, his fingers tapping on it for a few seconds before he folded his forearms on the table and looked up to meet her eyes. He shrugged.

"It's just- I don't know." Another shrug. "After all these years, I'm still surprised by some of the things people do. Even after seeing them do the same things over and over again. Just-" He picked up his fork again, chased a bit of egg around his plate without really seeing it. Realizing he hadn't really answered her question he tried again. "Man is unhappy at home. Man goes to sleazy bar. Man picks up woman. Woman blackmails man. Man kills two people to keep his wife from finding out." He met her gaze again. "Same old story." He set his fork down again, leaned forward and looked at her earnestly. "Tell me, Miss Hart. Are men just born stupid?"

Edie was saved from replying by a buzz from the front door.

"Oh, great!" She rolled her eyes and motioned him to remain seated. "I'll get it. It's probably some poor waif with a sob story that you wouldn't be able to turn away." She stood and stepped around him, dropping a kiss near the corner of his mouth in the process. "I'll scare whoever it is away."

Pete's eyebrows rose as he gave her the once-over.

"Not dressed like that, you won't."

His words followed her to the door. Lieutenant Jacoby followed her back.

"Would you like some breakfast, Lieutenant?"

"Uh, no." He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, eyeing the coffee pot Edie picked up. "But coffee would be fine, thanks."

He accepted the cup Edie proffered and plunked himself down in the chair she'd vacated. Jacoby was dressed as usual in suit and tie along with a gray overcoat to keep out the rain. He removed his hat and set it on the table then slipped his coat off.

"Hi, Pete." He eyed Pete's breakfast. Pete eyed Edie. Edie smirked and turned back to the stove, grabbing eggs and bacon.

Pete nodded a greeting and took a swallow of coffee before picking up half a piece of toast and quickly consuming it. Then he finished up the remainder of his eggs and crunched through his final piece of bacon. Another swallow of coffee and he released a sated sigh.

"So Lieutenant, what brings you around this early in the morning?" Pete leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over the front of his casual white shirt, and looked at the other man curiously.

Jacoby sighed, setting his coffee cup down on the table and wrapping his hands around its warmth. He quickly moved it aside though when Edie set a plate in front of him. After a gruff thank you he dug in.

"I didn't want to bother you on a Saturday morning but I thought you'd want to know." He took a swallow of coffee as he spoke between mouthfuls of food.

Pete waited for him to continue. And waited some more. His impatience finally got the best of him.

"Well?"

Jacoby pushed his empty plate aside and pulled his coffee closer again, staring into its depths thoughtfully before looking across the table at Pete.

"Anthony Scott."

"What about him?" Brusquely with an irritated frown.

"He was found dead in his cell this morning." Jacoby's voice and facial expression were glum. "Managed to hang himself with his shirt. Don't ask me how."

Pete let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling.

"Huh. Didn't strike me as the type."

"What's with type? That doesn't mean anything and you know it." Jacoby wiped his mouth with a napkin, folded it up and dropped it on his plate.

"Guess it beats frying in the electric chair," Pete grimaced.

"Pete..."

Edie Hart's soft censure brought Jacoby's gaze to the woman who stood with her back to the counter near the stove, sipping her coffee as she listened to their conversation. Her blue eyes rested gently on Pete. Dropping his gaze before returning it to the other man, Jacoby for the first time took in her bare feet and legs poking out from beneath the man's robe she wore. He carefully moved his gaze front and center, feeling suddenly embarrassed. He hazarded a glance at Pete, who simply stared back at him with that deadpan expression he was so good at. Jacoby reached for his hat and placed it askew upon his head, then rose from his chair and pulled his coat on.

"I need to get to the airport so I guess I should be heading out."

"Coming or going?" Pete asked, getting to his feet to follow him to the door as a good host should.

"Coming. I'm picking up the wife. She's been helping out her sister who just had a baby, been gone all week."

"That explains it then."

"Explains what?" Jacoby asked curiously as he opened the door.

"Why you've been such a grouch all week," Pete answered with an angelic smile.

"Ha, ha, very funny. You oughta be a comedian." Jacoby pulled his coat collar up as he stepped into the hallway. "See ya, Pete."

Pete watched Jacoby walk away before closing the door and setting the chain. He stuck his right hand in his pocket and fiddled with his cigarette lighter as he wandered back into the kitchen. Edie was at the sink rinsing the breakfast dishes. He stepped behind her as she placed the last cup in the drainer, his arms wrapping around her waist as she dried her hands with a dish cloth.

"To answer your stupid question-" She rested her head back against his shoulder, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Pardon?" Pete was confused.

"You asked me if men were born stupid," she reminded him, resting her hands on his where they were clasped at her front.

"Oh. Well, that would make it a stupid question, not a stupid question."

Edie ignored him.

"Men aren't born stupid, some just pick stupid up as they make their way through life." She turned in his embrace, her arms going around his shoulders.

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaled her sweet scent, after a few moments began to gently rock against her.

"You're it for me, you know that, right?"

Pete's soft words were a warm breath against her skin.

"Mmmmm...I think I may have gotten that impression somewhere." Her fingers played with the short hairs on the back of his neck. "A girl doesn't mind hearing it every once in a while, though." Her gentle rebuke didn't hide the smile in her voice.

"I'll make a note to rectify that." He continued to rock her slowly, his arms tightening around her waist, his lips brushing against her ear. "And you know you can always trust me."

She turned her face toward his, her cheek resting against the soft material of his shirt, his chin against her soft blond hair. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed.

"And all those things you want...with me...you know they're the same things I want."

It was this last case talking, nagging at him, prompting him to give her unnecessary reassurances about their relationship. She pulled back, placed her hands on his cheeks and turned his face to hers.

"You're the finest man I know, Peter Gunn. You don't have to prove anything to me." She gave him a toothy smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "And if that was supposed to be a proposal it was sadly lacking."

"It wasn't."

She dropped her hands with an exasperated frown then leaned into him as he grasped her chin and gave her a firm kiss.

"Honey, when I propose, believe me, you'll know it."

She smiled against his lips as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Crazy..."