Laundry Day
"There's your laundry."
"Yeah. Don't ever do it again."
Alex Romero stood just inside Room 11 of the Bates Motel, giving the stack of clean, folded laundry a baleful glare. Norma had clearly meant for it to be obvious, placing the laundered clothes right in the center of his perfectly turned down bed. It was a silent, indirect slap in the face, and Alex felt it.
There was simply no telling Norma what to do – or what not to do, as was the case this time.
Finally, his hand dropped from the doorknob, and he shut the door of his room with more force than necessary. Gritting his teeth, he put his clothes away in the dresser, wondering if he would ever win a single battle with Norma, because, if memory served him, he had yet to chalk up a victory. She was without equal when it came to stubbornness, and Alex would know – before Norma moved to White Pine Bay, he had held that crown. But he couldn't seem to defeat her, even over something as trivial as doing his laundry for him.
What made it all worse was the ammunition she didn't even realize she had. In the past few months, Alex had grown to like her, and had become increasingly aware of his attraction to her. But then, three days ago, as he sat at her kitchen table, things took a drastic turn. She leaned in close to examine the cut on his forehead, and he found himself willing her to lean even closer. It was all he could do not to reach out and touch her; to slide his hand around the back of her neck and pull her in. The urge was so intense, he almost groaned.
Norma had sensed some sort of shift in him, but he hid the vast majority of his desire; hiding his feelings was something Alex Romero was still best at. But now she unknowingly held such a strong trump card because, when all was said and done, he wanted her. Badly. And he would do nearly anything – and put up with nearly anything – to have her.
So the days passed, as did the weeks. Alex continued to arrive back at his room at the Motel to find a stack of clean clothes awaiting him. And as those days and weeks passed, he spoke not a word to Norma about it, neither in thanks nor reprimand. He just let it be. He had no other choice.
Until the day things changed. Everything occurred as per usual, but as he placed his folded black t-shirts into the dresser, his fingertips felt a new, unfamiliar fabric amongst his undershirts. Deftly, his fingers freed the foreign article of clothing, but it wasn't until Alex held it up in front of him was his mind able to process what he was looking at.
A skimpy, black lace pair of what could only be Norma's panties.
An eternity passed as Alex stared at them; it was all he could do, really. He focused on taking one breath, then another, and then another, trying to slow his frantic heartbeat. Surely Norma wouldn't go so far as to do this on purpose. This had to have been a mistake. And he was certain that she was unaware of how strongly he wanted her. No, this wasn't intentional. This was an accident. Which, it slowly occurred to him, could give him the upper hand, for once. She would be mortified to know that such a personal piece of clothing had wound up literally in his hands. He might be able to use that.
A knock at his door made him jump – and to startle Sheriff Alex Romero was a rare thing, indeed. Hastily, he shoved the piece of black lace into the handiest hiding spot he could think of, which happened to be the pocket of his leather jacket. He strode purposefully to the door, only to find his nightly Chinese food delivery had arrived. He paid the kid, grumbling internally at himself for forgetting what time it was. Of course it would be the delivery boy. Who would it be? Norma, on the hunt for missing underwear? Closing the door, he shook his head.
'Relax, Alex,' he willed himself.
Relax.
Yeah, right.
"Did you get Chinese food again last night?"
Alex turned as he got out of his SUV, to see Norma standing a few yards away, a hand casually propped on her hip.
"Yeah."
She pursed her lips, and he knew what was about to happen.
"I don't see why you get that stuff. I mean, it can't be good for you, eating it all the time," she informed him. "Why don't you come up to the house for dinner from now on?"
"Really, Norma, it's fine," he protested immediately.
"It's not fine," she said in that tone he was beginning to dread. He would lose this fight; he knew it already.
"Norma-" he began fruitlessly.
"No. You're coming up to the house for dinner, at least a couple times a week," she said in a voice that brooked no refusal.
He could only sigh in resignation, hanging his head in defeat.
"Come up at 6," she said as an end to the conversation, turning on her heel and walking off.
He stared helplessly after her, wondering – not for the first time – how he'd gotten himself in so deep.
If Alex were being honest, dinner was outstanding. He had forgotten how much he missed having proper food to eat. He would, of course, say nothing of the sort to Norma. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage her attempts to ensnare him further. Because as much as he wanted her, he knew better than to cross that bridge. Instead, he toed the line of polite civility while saying as little as possible. Norma was happy to chat about this and that, especially about the bypass and her hopes of thwarting it. Alex didn't think she stood a chance of being successful, but then, she got a seat on the Town Council, which he also didn't think would happen. So, he did what Alex Romero was best at, and kept quiet.
Everything went smoothly until after dinner, when he got up to leave. Norman had just excused himself to his room, and Alex couldn't bear to sit at the kitchen table with only Norma for company. The last time they'd sat here together, bad, bad things had happened inside his head.
"You're leaving already?" she asked in an almost pitiful tone.
He merely nodded.
"Goodnight, Norma," he said, walking down the hall towards the front door.
"Listen, Alex…" she began as she rose to follow him.
Unseen, he clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a strong sense of foreboding.
"I've been thinking," she said, approaching him as he turned to face her, his face impassive once more as he donned his leather jacket.
He said nothing. She hesitated, noticing his silence, but then made the decision to plow ahead.
"I mean, it seems kinda silly, don't you think? You, staying down in the motel? I mean, you're our friend, and you've done a lot for us. You should be staying in the house."
He shook his head at once, trying to cut her off before she could work up momentum. She was unstoppable at the best of times, but he still had to try.
"No. Norma, I'm fine where I am."
She jumped in again immediately, not letting him continue.
"But now that Dylan moved out I have all these spare rooms, and it's lonely with just me and Norman. I'd like the company. And surely you'd be more comfortable up here-"
"Norma. Norma. That's… that's not gonna work, ok? I'm staying down at the motel."
"But why?"
"It's just… it's not going to happen," he said, not wanting to state the obvious reason why he couldn't possibly sleep in the room next to hers, an unlocked door the only thing standing between his bed and her own.
"But-"
"Look, can we just drop it?" he nearly begged.
"I'm not going to drop it," she replied instantly, in that familiar, stubborn tone.
He held up a hand, and gave her his harshest Sheriff Alex Romero look. The one people feared. The 'shut up and listen to me,' look.
Without breaking eye contact, or lowering his hand, his other hand reached into his jacket pocket, his fingers closing gently around the garment within. He pulled out the pair of panties, letting them hang from his fingers for a long, long moment before depositing them on the table in the hall with a nonchalance he certainly did not feel.
His heart was pounding in his chest; the roar of his blood flowing was all he could hear. But there was nothing to drown out, because Norma was frozen solid, staring at her own underwear. Her mouth had, at some point, dropped open in surprise.
Bravely, he took a step towards her, bringing the distance between their faces down to inches.
"I'm not staying in the house, Norma. I can't, and I won't," he said softly but firmly, watching as her eyes finally snapped back to his. He stepped away, renewing the distance between them.
"And would you please stop doing my laundry?" he added.
Her face still betrayed her shock and embarrassment, but she seemed unable to speak.
He didn't wait for a response. He turned and left.
"Thanks for dinner," he said over his shoulder right before he shut the front door behind him.
Alex opened the door to Room 11 the next evening, dreading what he would find.
His bed was perfectly made. Fresh towels hung in the bathroom. New, clean mugs for coffee sat on the desk, which had been tidied up. A clean shot glass sat next to his bottle of bourbon.
His dirty clothes lay exactly where he'd dumped them the previous evening. They hadn't been touched at all.
A smirk began in the corner of Alex's mouth, and spread and spread until he was outright grinning.
A soft laugh escaped his lips.
Victory.
A/N: This was written based on an anonymous suggestion I received over on my tumblr page. Thought I would post it here. This one stops as a one-shot. I already have another story in the works, plus another chapter of Caught.
If you find typos (this one was written quickly), please PM me so I can fix them! :-)