"Let me guess – you bought a dress."
"Of course I bought a dress! But it's what I bought for under the dress that you're gonna wanna see."
ANDY
It's probably a crappy thing to say, but one of the worst things about Ted McDonald's bombings was the cancellation of the Commissioner's Gala. Not only the one that week, but even the next year – still too much reorganization going on. Cops don't get many opportunities to dress up, and when we do get out our dress uniforms it tends to be for one of two reasons: the happy but sort of dull one, for a medal presentation, and the sad one, for a funeral. But getting really dressed up, guys in suits, women in dresses – no, not dresses, gowns! – not so much. This will be the first time since I joined the force.
Of course it's a different Commissioner's gala. The one who announced it originally is now sitting in a cell, convicted of corruption, awaiting his trial for murder. I try not to think about him.
The new guy is a career cop with a great service record, so the rescheduled gala is like a celebration of his appointment, a return to the trust and reputation of the Toronto Police Service.
The guys, of course, are complaining to anyone who'll listen, but I happen to know at least one who's actually excited. Sam, it turns out, loves to dance! I knew he liked to dress up - the way he rocked the dark suit and purple shirt during the car dealership sting was my first clue. But the dancing came as a surprise. The first time we danced was at our own wedding, mostly because it had never occurred to me to suggest it. Sam had almost no experience, but he's a natural. So now we go about once a month to a little club that has a live band. And sometimes we dance at home too, but that never lasts long enough. Slow dancing in private with Sam is more like foreplay.
So I've hauled out the dress I bought for the original gala, and the under-the-dress wear, such as it is, that I teased Sam about. The top of the dress is halter-style, high in front but almost backless; it has its own built-in bra. The skirt part is narrow all the way down but swirly around my ankles at the bottom. I guess the colour is bronze, and the fabric is silky and clingy. Panty lines would be really obvious. So it's the dress, and these sheer, sheer, horribly expensive thigh-high, lace-topped stockings, and shoes – and nothing else. Shameless, I know, but I don't go commando as a rule so I'll just tell Sam to please make extra sure we don't get into an accident on the way. Wouldn't want to shock the ER doctors and nurses. Especially if one of the nurses was Monica.
So I'm all set, and I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night.
