CHAPTER 10 – THE GAME IS AFOOT

"Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip."

- By William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 1

"The game's afoot:

Follow your spirit, and upon this charge

Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"

- By William Shakespeare, Henry V

"Come Watson, come! The game is afoot! Not a word! Into your clothes and come!"

– By Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Abbey Grange

"Attraction is beyond our will or ideas sometimes."

– By Juliette Binoche

A/N: As usual my undying gratitude goes to kleannhouse for beta'ing this chapter. I really couldn't do this without her. All remaining errors are all mine.

I sauntered my way towards Eric's car with him closely following behind me. I didn't look back at him, though I very much wanted to. I wanted to look at him forever. I just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking I was trying to sneak a peek at his ass in those pants. I would see it soon enough.

When I reached the passenger's side door, I was about to lift my hand to open it when Eric's long, bare and muscular arm shot out and opened it for me. He held it open and waited for me to get in. As I climbed into the seat I could feel the heat radiating off of Eric's big left hand hovering very close to my naked lower back, like he wanted to chivalrously assist me. My skin broke out in goosebumps. He didn't actually touch me, he was holding himself in check or so I thought; but I could feel it almost there and I really wanted him to put his hand on my exposed skin, which was all kinds of wrong.

I wanted to scream, mostly to remind myself: "THIS IS NOT A DATE!".

I was starting to think I should have brought a huge blinking neon sign with those words in big red letters, so to never forget for a minute that very relevant fact. A new mantra, of sorts.

No matter how much I wanted to be going on a date with Eric, we weren't. It was a professional situation. I couldn't let myself or Eric get carried away thinking this was anything more than a ruse to get a job done. We had to focus. I had to focus.

I sat down; Eric closed my door and walked around the front of the massive SUV to reach the driver's side. I was about to put my seatbelt on when something caught my attention.

Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.

We had left the front door of my house wide open and the light from the entrance hall was spilling out. Luckily, I had noticed it before we drove off. I was utterly exasperated with myself and Eric for this blunder. Mostly, I was infuriated with myself. I had let Eric's, well, Ericness, distract me to the point I had forgotten about a very important security risk; and it had overridden my own overdeveloped sense of paranoia. That was a testament of how much he had affected me and how incredibly hot and distracting he looked. That was risky. We had a job to do and if I couldn't concentrate on anything other than Eric, we'd have a major problem.

Eric got into his seat, closed his door, turned and looked at me. He was staring at me like he had never seen me before and was appreciating the new view, which was only true in the sense that he had never seen me in this type of getup before. He looked as distracted as I had just felt. So, I decided to spread my vexation around and hopefully bring us both back to reality.

"Eric!" I said in a very aggravated tone.

That seemed to have worked, because he lost the admiring look in his eyes and they focused on me, curiously now.

"Yeah?"

"We left my front door wide open! You couldn't have closed it once I walked out?"

I wasn't being completely fair to him. It wasn't all his fault. It was my house, I had the keys, and although the door locked automatically when closed, it was still my responsibility to secure my home. But, it was his fault in the sense that his little dare, his hotness and my wish to tease him had me strutting out without looking back. Though, he could have closed it. I guessed I, or my ass and naked back more specifically, had sidetracked him too. That was a gratifying thought; that I wasn't the only one who had been so enamored and overwhelmed.

Fine, it was my own damn fault. He wasn't responsible for how much he had affected me. That had been one of the main reasons I had been so deep in denial about my feelings for him. I knew our dynamic would change. I knew it would disturb our work. It was dangerous. Too bad it had to be today that I finally realized I was in love with him. The timing had been atrocious; tonight was not the night to be looking at Eric as anything other than my partner in "crime".

Eric was silent. I had been too while I mentally bitched myself out for behaving like a love struck dummy. Finally, he said:

"Sorry. I was…" He paused and then went on. "..distracted. I'll go back now and close it."

"No, never mind. I will. It's safest to lock it with my key anyway."

He smiled wickedly. Son of a bitch, was he enjoying the thought of checking out my ass once more while I walked back to fix the issue?

Men…

I opened my clutch and fished out my keys. I unlocked the car door, left my clutch on the seat and marched back to my front door swaying my hips for his benefit and locked it. I left the light on; it was always safest if it seemed if there was someone home.

I sashayed back to the car and got into my seat and put my bag on my lap. I looked over at Eric. He was smiling in a very self-satisfied way. Well, I hoped he had enjoyed the view the second time around, as much as he seemed to have the first time. Although I felt he should have been more concerned about the work we had to do, instead of with my butt. I should take my own advice on that subject too. No more. I had a business to run and we had a job to do. That was more than enough, time to get in the game.

"Okay, now we can leave. Let's go, Eric. Time's 'a wastin'." I said in a no nonsense tone.

Eric was a smart man, he realized my mood had changed and wordlessly started the truck and drove off. While he drove us on, I unzipped my clutch and took out my fake ID and the necklace with the hidden camera. I put both in my lap and turned to Eric.

"Do you mind carrying my fake ID in your wallet, please?"

I had brought my fake ID because it was best to not leave many tracks, especially when I didn't know how the job would turn out. It said my name was Suzannah Davis. It was a good choice, because Sookie sounded like a nickname for Suzannah and I thought it was much easier and even safer to use our own first names. Things can get complicated when you use a fake name. If you're not used to it, you don't respond to it when people use it to call you. It was also easy to let your real name, or the real name of the person you were with, slip out.

Eric and I had talked about that on a previous occasion. His fake ID said his name was Eric Miller. We had both agreed that some jobs would require fake IDs with completely fake names, but this wasn't the case here. First, our romantic ruse would be further complicated by using false names, we already had enough subterfuge to worry about, and we would mostly be using pet names anyway.

If we did get the evidence on Mr. Gilmore that Constance needed tonight, she would be using it against him in their divorce; if he could place us then he would probably know it had been us who got the evidence needed by her. It also would not be difficult to find out which PI firm his wife had hired. This was a convert operation for now, but not really a secret undercover long con. I was mostly worried about the club discovering we were frauds and that we were there under false pretenses. It was a private sex club catering to a rich crowd, after all. Privacy would be their foremost concern. As long as we got our evidence and got out of there safely, I could care less about any other consequences. If any should arise from our deception then we would deal with them when or if they came up.

The club would probably hush everything up, if they ever found out anything about us. That kind of place, who catered to these kind of needs and individuals, didn't want any attention drawn to them. Ever. They'd probably tighten their security though, after the Gilmores' divorce.

Eric briefly took his eyes off traffic and looked over at me.

"Aren't you bringing your purse?"

"No. I'm leaving it in your car. I'll put it in the glove compartment, okay?"

"Sure. I can take your ID and feel free to leave anything you want in my car. But, you're bringing your phone, right?"

"No. But you are, aren't you?"

"Of course. Why aren't you bringing yours? Do you trust me to get all the evidence by myself?"

He looked pleased with the idea that I trusted him with that responsibility. I didn't want to disappoint him and I did trust him, but I always rather liked playing things safe. My hidden camera, plus his phone, would give us both a chance to get proof. It was a fail safe way to work. We would only get one opportunity to get this right and I wasn't taking any chances.

"Of course, I trust you. You know that, but I'm bringing a hidden camera too. I just want to have my hands free, in case, well; I'll just feel better not having to carry anything."

"A hidden camera? I haven't seen you use one before. Where is it?"

He looked me over with probing eyes, like he was scanning me for something hidden in my clothes or body. He gave me such a long and examining look, that I started to suspect he was just taking the opportunity to ogle me some more without being called out for it. It was satisfying; I wasn't going to deny it. However, I wasn't going to give his flattering my attention or encourage it now. We were supposed to be working. I had to remind myself yet again. Just repeat the mantra: 'This is not a date!'. This was ridiculous. I wasn't in high school for Christ's sake.

I had to laugh, so I did.

"Here." I lifted my hand and let the necklace dangle from it.

"That monstrosity has a hidden camera?" He asked with a disgusted look on his face.

I laughed again.

"Yes. It's gaudy as hell, but don't make fun of it. It's very useful and one of my own creations. The camera is inside the locket. I can easily turn it on by just pressing a little button on the side and it'll film and take still shots every 5 seconds in high resolution for about half an hour once it's on before the battery dies out or it runs out of space. The tackiness of the necklace also works well when I'm playing the blonde bimbo, which I am tonight."

Eric looked irritated. I didn't get it. Was he that offended that I hadn't trusted him to get all the evidence by himself?

"I don't like when you use that expression to describe yourself, even in jest." He said very seriously.

Who talked like that? In jest, really? I was amused.

"What? Blonde bimbo? Oh, come on, Eric. It's an act, a necessary one for tonight and maybe a few more times in the future. Plus, it's not like people don't usually have that thought about me daily, inaccurate as that may be."

"I don't think they do, actually. There's absolutely nothing about you that says bimbo to anyone. Not your behavior, not your looks. Nothing at all."

"I appreciate what you're saying. And I know you believe that. You know me. Plus, you're an intelligent and observant man. But, let's be honest, it's what most men think about me at first sight. It's one of the many reasons I dress so conservatively. Though, right now, in this outfit I wouldn't blame anyone having the thought I really was a bimbo. My looks tend to give people the wrong first impression. Would your delicate sensibilities prefer if I called myself a ditzy blonde instead?" I asked a little sarcastically.

Eric rolled his eyes.

"You're as far from ditzy as anyone I've ever known, but suit yourself. Also, your current outfit doesn't make you look like a bimbo. You're too classy for that. You look very sexy and beautiful, that's true, but there's a big difference."

Okay, I really did appreciate what he was saying. It was thoughtful and genuinely complimentary. Nonetheless, I was so not in the mood to discuss semantics or the topic of my looks and perception with Eric right now. I was excited about our assignment and the skullduggery we were about to be involved in. I did not want us getting sidetracked again from what really mattered tonight. Thankfully, he changed the subject back to what we had been discussing before that interlude.

"That necklace is hideous, I won't lie to you. But, it's ingenious. Well done. However, if you want another more discreet hidden camera, I can get whatever you need. I have my sources."

I smiled, of course he did. It was good working with Eric. He was great at the job. I just had to keep remembering this when his looks and my feelings for him threatened to overwhelm me tonight.

"I have no doubt. Thanks, we can discuss that tomorrow and see what we might need you to get for us. It's a good idea. I can't see you wearing this necklace anyway, even if it was urgently needed. You'd feel like Spike." I jokingly said.

"Spike?" Eric asked sounding confused.

"Yeah, Spike. From Buffy and Angel. It's silly and a long story. Basically, he had to wear a gaudy necklace, actually an amulet, to help save the world and ended up going up in flames literally, because of it. He did come back from the dead eventually and in the series finale a year later when they're trying to save the world again he says: "Right. First off, I'm not wearing any amulets. No bracelets, brooches, beads, pendants, pins, or rings.". I always thought that was hilarious. He's one of the funniest characters on both shows. This monstrosity, as you so eloquently put it, reminds me of Spike and that damn amulet for some weird reason."

I just couldn't help myself, I was dorky as hell. But, hey I was quoting Angel verbatim; I was already showing my true colors. Eric shook his head like he couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth, but he was smiling. And he kept the conversation going.

"You mean from Buffy and Angel, your favorite TV Shows of all time? As you once put it?"

Ah, he remembered. Admittedly, it wasn't that hard, I quoted and talked about both shows often enough.

"Exactly. Although I'd have to add Deadwood to my list of favorite series of all time too. It's just so good. The acting, the dialogue, Ian McShane. Well, it's fantastic."

"On that we're in complete agreement. Deadwood is one of the best TV Shows I've ever watched. I'm a big fan too."

Eric would be a fan of Deadwood, of course. It made total sense. Too bad he didn't seem very interested in Joss Whedon's masterpieces.

"And yet, you have never watched Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Stop being such a TV snob and get to it, you won't regret it."

"I'm not a TV snob. And I know Buffy is a cult show and all that, but it always seemed so silly to me, especially the name. But, since you're such a big fan I might give it a shot sometime."

"You won't regret it; just get past the first season. It's the weakest and campiest, although it has some good standalone episodes. Season two is where it gets phenomenal. It's funny you bring the silly name up. Joss Whedon said something about it years ago, that the inane name was on purpose and if people chose to skip the show because of it, he didn't want them watching it anyway. So, maybe it really isn't for you." I teased.

"Now, who's being the snob?" He jokingly asked.

"Touché."

I laughed and then we lapsed into a comfortable silence. I was getting pumped up. I couldn't wait to accomplish this job. It was from that exhilarating thought that I was brought out of by Eric's voice.

"Can I ask you something?" Eric said carefully.

"Sure, you just did." I smiled. "You can ask me anything, you know that, so what's up?"

"I don't mean to upset you, but you were tense earlier today about tonight. Now, we're on our way there and you are very excited. I can see the sparkle in your eyes and you're practically vibrating. Not that I'm complaining, I didn't like seeing you so anxious. But what changed your mood?"

Internally, I mused… Well, I thought long and hard, exercised like a maniac and realized I'm in love with you, but that I can't really do anything about it right now.

I couldn't give him that reply, and though it was true, it was not even close to the whole truth. I was animated because I loved my job and I was about to do something totally different than anything I had ever done before. Something very unpredictable that carried certain risks, which I got off on, plain and simple.

So, I dramatically rubbed my hands together and declared:

"Elementary, my dear Watson. The game is afoot!"

My theatricality was rewarded with a booming laugh from Eric. I continued on conversationally.

"You know, people usually associate that quote with Sherlock Holmes, but although Arthur Conan Doyle used the phrase in one of the books, that quote is originally from Shakespeare. It appears in two of his plays: Henry IV, Part 1 and Henry V, right at the end of that great war monologue, you know the one. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…"

Yeah, my nerdiness was starting to overflow. I shut up. Only to be met by Eric's voice.

"God, I love your mind." He said with feeling.

What? What was he talking about? Did he enjoy my ramblings?

"What?" I eloquently asked.

That earned me a look I couldn't quite decipher. It had just dawned on me that maybe what he had said had come out impulsively and that it was not something that I was supposed to hear. He did elaborate, though.

"It's just one of the many reasons, actually. But, I mean the way you can equally, precisely, and excitedly quote from silly TV dramas likes Grey's Anatomy to Shakespeare. And that you feel the need to correctly credit a quote you used."

Oh.

That was another big compliment. There was no way around that. Not one man in my life had ever said to me: 'I love your mind'. Sure, I love you, I love your face, I love your breasts, etc., but my mind was never high on the list of things they loved about me or even bothered to mention. And Eric had just said he loved my mind for many different reasons. Fuck. That was exactly one of the many causes of why I had fallen in love with him. He was different. He got me, he liked me. He praised me often and never with an agenda. It was more like he noticed stuff about me that he appreciated and then shared his thoughts with me. I don't think he meant it like that, but that was extremely seductive to me. It meant he saw me. He paid attention. I mattered to him. It was a heady feeling.

While I was silently feeling all warm and fuzzy about what Eric had just told me and what it meant, he looked at my face searchingly and then carried on.

"You don't like compliments, do you? I've noticed this about you. You get slightly uncomfortable every time I praise you. Why is that?"

I always said he was very observant. I decided to be truthful, as usual.

"It's not that I don't appreciate praise, exactly. It's just that in my experience people usually compliment you because they have an agenda. It can be something as cliché as wanting to seduce you to something as harmless as getting into someone's good graces. Or the person might be just being nice, usually to be liked, for their own validation. It means the flatterer wants something from you, whatever it is. But there is always something. When it comes to you specifically, it's different. I don't see any hidden agendas or get the feeling that you want something in return from me. Your compliments are freely and honestly given and that's perplexing to me. I'm not used to it. I don't know how to respond, unless it's to just say thank you, which sounds a little egotistical, you know?"

My little monologue was met with silence. I waited it out. Did his silence mean he had an agenda? I never thought he did. Was I now reading him wrong since I realized I loved him? Had I been reading him wrong this whole time? I hoped not. That would be heart breaking and also a massive blow to my self-confidence, since I considered my ability to read people well one of the most valuable skills I had.

Eric cleared his throat.

"You're wise beyond your years." He said simply.

That was quite cryptic and not really about the topic we were discussing. It was a ham-fisted attempt to close the subject, if I had ever heard one. It seemed I wouldn't be getting any answers to the questions he had raised in my head at the moment. And it was another compliment. Fuck it, we were getting close to the club and I didn't feel like, nor had the time, to contemplate the enigma that was Eric and my insecurities right now.

"Thank you." I replied in a monotone.

It was my turn to change topics and get us both back to the task at hand.

"We'll be there in a few minutes. So, I was thinking, I don't want you to leave your car with the valet."

"Why?" He asked.

I had realized not long after hiring Eric that he tended to always ask why about things that I knew he had the answer for or that were just plain common sense. At first, I thought he was just indulging me and trying to suck up a bit when I was teaching him something about being a PI. Later, it dawned on me that he asked because he wanted to understand my train of thought, my logic behind certain things. How my mind worked. And to see if he was in agreement with my reasoning. I didn't mind that at all, it was good, we had similar thought processes, and it prevented misunderstandings. Eric was like a sponge, he liked to suck up knowledge about everything and everyone. I had noticed that was especially the case when it came to information about me, or maybe that was just my inner hope shining through. So, I answered him.

"For many reasons, actually. First, we don't know how this night will play out. We might need to make a quick escape. Also, your car is just too noticeable. It's a very dramatic truck and it's registered in your real name. And before you protest, I told you already that your vehicle isn't suited to our line of work. It's not my fault you chose to drive the Batmobile. It's best if they don't know what we drive. They won't have your plates, so they can't track us. Lastly, but more importantly, I'm leaving my clutch in your truck with my gun inside of it. I can't in clear conscience leave a gun unattended in a car that will be driven by who knows whom with the keys kept who knows where. I can't take that risk. My weapon and its safety are my responsibility and I don't want it falling into the wrong hands."

"Agreed. I can take the back streets and we can park just around the corner, out of sight, and then walk to the entrance." Eric said.

"Sounds like a plan." I easily approved.

Eric nodded and kept driving. We were getting very close to our destination now. My exhilaration grew the closer we got. The game was indeed afoot. I grinned to myself.

Finally, we arrived on the street just around the corner from the club. Eric slowed the car down and started to maneuver it into a parking space in the middle of the block.

I was pumped up, so to amuse myself I said aloud:

"Activating Bimbo Mode in T minus 2 minutes."

Eric shot me an annoyed look. I rolled my eyes.

"Eric, we already had this conversation. Plus, I'm playing the bimbo part tonight, even you can't deny that and that's what people inside will think of me."

"Only because you'll be acting." Eric replied.

"I disagree. I bet that even if I strolled in there and was completely myself that'd still be people's first impression of me."

"I think you deceive yourself, Sookie."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that you don't see yourself very clearly sometimes."

"I consider myself a pretty self-aware person." I protested.

"You are, for the most part. However, you're not good at seeing what other people, in general, really think about you. I can assure you it's not what you think. I don't believe you realize the impression you make."

"Maybe just on you." I couldn't resist saying it, though I knew I shouldn't.

"No. On everyone you meet. Although, in my case I admit it's different."

I was startled into silence. I was about to inquire about what he meant, but before I got the opportunity, I heard his voice and I didn't get a chance to reply.

"We're here." He said.

I was so engrossed in our chat, that I didn't even notice that he had finished parking the car and we were now stationary.

Well, at least the man knew how to multi-task.

A/N: So, what did you think of this chapter? The next one will be at the Swinger's Club. I really don't want to be a nag, but I'd appreciate if you guys left me some reviews/comments. The last chapter barely got any. Are you guys losing interest in the story?