Getting to Know You

"Hey Jon!" Frank Poncherello yelled above the purr of his CHP motorcycle. "You sure you don't want to come home with me for Christmas? Mom would love to see you again!"

"I can't, Ponch!" Jon Baker yelled back.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I already signed all my vacation days over to you! Besides, I need the extra shifts since the rent on my condo's going up the first of the year."

"Sorry man, I forgot. I'll bring you back some left-overs!" Ponch flashed a wide smile at his partner.

Jon shook his head and smiled back as the two CHP officers merged into the afternoon traffic. They rode in companionable silence until Ponch pointed to a beige compact with a broken taillight. Jon nodded his understanding before he and Ponch maneuvered their motors behind the auto, flashed their lights, and eased to the side of the highway.

"I've got this one, partner," Ponch said as he climbed off his motor, removed his sunglasses, and approached the car. A young brunette, her hair pulled up in a utilitarian ponytail, rolled down her window with a frown.

"License and registration, please."

The woman quickly pulled her license from her wallet before rummaging around in the glove compartment for the registration.

"I know I'm not supposed to ask, but what seems to be the problem, officer?"

"You got a busted taillight."

"You'd think the agency would make sure everything is in working order before they rent out a car," the woman sighed.

"No, you don't understand," Ponch tried to clarify, still smiling. "The light's not burned out, the whole thing is smashed."

"What?!" the brunette squeaked, instinctively turning around even though she couldn't see it from inside the car.

"Any idea how it happened, ma'am?"

"One of the kids at the high school probably took a baseball bat or tire iron to it," she replied flatly.

Ponch quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm a substitute teacher," she explained.

"Oh! Well, I hope you took out insurance with the car rental agency."

"I did, thanks."

Ponch glanced at the out-of-state driver's license he was holding.

"Hey, you're from Montana! My partner's from Wyoming. You guys are practically neighbors!"

"Not quite," the woman, whose license showed her name as Kate Williams, said dryly.

Ponch's smile faded a bit. "Well, I'm gonna run your license. Be right back."

"Making a new friend?" Jon asked cynically when Ponch returned.

"Look at this, partner!" He flicked the license in front of Jon, inadvertently covering the name with his thumb. "She's from Montana! You guys are neighbors!"

"Hardly," Jon scoffed as Ponch got on the radio to get a background check on the woman. When everything came back clear, Ponch returned to where Kate sat waiting.

"Here you go, Ms. Williams," he said as he handed her license and registration back to her. "I'm going to write you a citation. When you get the light fixed, just bring it to any CHP office and they'll dismiss the ticket."

"Thanks," Kate replied.

"No problem. Welcome to California!" Ponch grinned and returned to his motor as the rental car slowly pulled away.

Ponch waved the carbon copy of the citation underneath Jon's nose. "I got her name and number if you're interested."

"I'm not," Jon declared evenly, revving his engine and taking off while his partner was still strapping on his helmet.

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Kate Williams pulled her rented beige compact into the parking structure of the Raintree Condominiums and Townhouses. She pulled two heavy grocery bags from the backseat and made her way to the elevator where she struggled to press the "up" button.

"Need some help?" a smooth, masculine voice asked.

Kate turned to find herself facing a tall, handsome blond man wearing a blue pull-over sweater, jeans and cowboy boots. Kate's breath hitched.

"Thanks, but I can manage."

"I didn't say you couldn't," the man said as he deftly lifted one of the bags from her arms. "I'm Jon Baker, by the way."

"Kate Williams."

They shook hands just as the elevator doors swished open. Jon waited for Kate to enter before he stepped into the car.

"Which floor?" he asked.

"Third," Kate replied softly.

"You look familiar," Jon said with an easy smile. "Have I seen you around?"

"I doubt it," Kate answered, positive that she would remember someone who looked like him! "I don't leave my apartment much."

They rode up to the third floor in silence and Kate led him down the hallway to her apartment door.

"You're staying with Trish?" Jon asked, a bit surprised.

"Yes, I'm her cousin. Her rent is going up in January so I moved in to help with the cost." Kate fumbled for her key when all of a sudden the door flew open.

"Trish! I didn't know you were home!" Kate exclaimed in surprise. An ER nurse, Trish's schedule was practically impossible to keep track of.

"I see you're already taking advantage of our upstairs neighbor," Trish grinned, blue eyes sparkling and long, blonde hair cascading around her shoulders.

"We met downstairs and he insisted on helping me with the groceries."

"That's Jon Baker," Trish laughed. "Always rescuing damsels in distress! But seriously, this is the guy I told you about. If you need anything, just ask. He lives right above us in apartment 408."

By now, the grocery bags had been deposited on the kitchen counter and Jon was turning to leave.

"Thanks for your help," Kate said.

"Anytime," he replied, then hesitated. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Positive," she replied with a shy smile.

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Two days later, Jon's doorbell rang. He opened it to find a smiling Trish and frowning Kate on the other side.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked, glancing at the clock and realizing it was almost supper time.

"We need a big strong man to open this," Trish stated, taking a jar of spaghetti sauce from Kate's hand and thrusting it towards Jon's chest.

"I'll see what I can do," he grinned as he held the jar tight and twisted the lid until he heard it pop.

"There you go," he said, handing it back to Kate. She smiled her thanks just as Trish's pager went off.

"Mind if I use your phone, Jon? It's the hospital."

"Go right ahead."

Trish walked into the apartment as if it was her own home leaving Kate standing in the doorway, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Sorry guys," Trish said airily after hanging up the phone. "I have to go back to the hospital. Jon, maybe you'd like to come down and eat my share of spaghetti?"

"That'd be nice," he accepted. "If it's okay with you, Kate."

"It's fine." She smiled stiffly before turning to head toward the elevator.

Thirty minutes later, Jon sat at the small kitchen table watching Kate prepare the pasta and trying desperately to make small-talk.

"So, how long have you been in Los Angeles?"

"A few weeks," she answered, her back toward him.

"Any luck finding a job yet?"

"I'm substitute teaching right now. I hope to get on full time in January."

"What subject do you teach?"

"English Lit."

Jon sighed and began looking around the room for conversational inspiration when his eyes fell upon a familiar piece of pink paper laying on the breakfast bar.

"So what do you do?"

Her question caught him off guard.

"Uh, I'm a California Highway Patrolman. I see you've already met one of my colleagues." He nodded toward the citation slip.

"Yeah. I got pulled over for a busted taillight."

Jon felt the gears in his head begin to spin and suddenly click into place.

"Hey, you're Montana! I mean, you're from Montana!"

"Yeah, Billings, how did you know?"

"That was my partner who cited you the other day. He showed me your license. I recognized you from the picture, that's why I thought we had met."

"You're Wyoming!" she exclaimed, her warm brown eyes finally meeting his.

"Ponch didn't know how right he was when he said we were neighbors," Jon laughed before noticing Kate's eyes had slammed to the floor. He sobered. "I know a place where you can get that light fixed."

"Thanks, but I can manage."

Jon got up, gently grabbed Kate by her upper arms, and turned her to face him. In that moment, he sensed her anxiety, shyness, and vulnerability and would do anything in the world to see her smile.

"I know you can," Jon replied softly, dipping his head so his forehead almost rested on hers. "But I want to help you. After all, what are neighbors for?"

XXXXX

"So Montana is really Trish's cousin?!" Ponch asked excitedly the next day as he dogged Jon's heels on the way to the briefing room. "Wow, who'd think a blonde bombshell like Trish would be related to her?"

"What's that supposed to mean," Jon demanded, turning around so quickly Ponch almost ran into him.

"I'm just saying there's not much of a family resemblance, that's all," Ponch held up his hands in mock surrender.

"For your information," Jon began, poking Ponch in the chest with his index finger for good measure, "Kate is a really nice girl. She's smart, funny, and we actually have a lot in common. In fact, we made plans to go horseback riding this weekend."

"Hey man, that's great! I'm happy for you! Really!"

By now the two officers had made their way to a table in the back of the briefing room. Sergeant Getraer stood behind the podium at the front and cleared his throat loudly.

"Nice of you gentlemen to join us," he said sarcastically.

"No problem, Sarge!" Ponch replied happily.

"Poncherello, when do you leave for Chicago?" Getraer asked.

"Tomorrow. Why?"

"Then maybe we'll be able to start these briefings on time for the next three weeks," the sergeant said wryly as the other officers laughed.