Dori Doreau's usual morning routine included coffee and a paper and watching the news. She didn't do any of that the day after Hammer proposed.
Instead, she went into Captain Trunk's office, shut the door and sat down. He barely looked up as she walked in.
"I can't work with Sledge anymore," she said.
Trunk jumped up abruptly, startling Dori.
"WHAT IS IT NOW? A few months ago you said the two of you were fine!"
Dori gave him a half-smile.
"He asked me to marry him again."
Now Trunk's face went blank.
"I said yes."
At first, the dates ended at her door. As her arm healed, they kept a standing Wednesday night bowling and beer outing. Saturday nights, they'd either go to a movie or out to eat. Dori even agreed to a gun show and Hammer went to a baseball game. Nothing felt terribly different between them, other than a mutual and unspoken understanding they wouldn't let any of this interfere with their police work. So far, around the precinct, to them it seemed no one knew anything was changing.
He was still Sledge Hammer. He still made a big deal out of beating her at bowling and laughed the whole way home at the face she made during a gross part of a horror movie. Outside of a 5 year old, Dori had never seen anyone as messy with an ice cream cone. After a stop at Twisty Treat on the way to a stakeout, both the car and Sledge's face, hands and clothes would turn into a quagmire.
Still, there was no one she'd rather be with, even when the ice cream made her hair stick to the seat. Dori remembered his expression after she'd been shot. He was genuinely scared. We almost lost each other twice in that 5-day span.
"Doreau, you will be driving, UNDERSTAND THAT HAMMER? This is a classic car, which can't be scratched or dented or run into mailboxes," Trunk hissed.
"Gotcha," said Dori. She accepted the keys and watched Sledge pout.
"I'm a perfectly good driver, Captain. My father taught me. Spotless record," said Sledge.
Trunk took a breath to calm down.
"Now, these people deal in these old cars. They'll want to buy yours. They're willing to kill for cars like these. They hang out at the Starlight Drive-In and dress the part. YOU will BOTH dress the part. And Hammer...DON'T RUIN THE CAR!"
"I promise the car's in good hands," smiled Dori, hanging onto the keys tightly. She expected Sledge to grab them.
"You two need to act like you have no idea what's going on. You're just out for an evening at the drive-in," continued Trunk. Dori felt her cheeks go pink and prayed Trunk wouldn't notice.
She followed Sledge back to the desks, smiling faintly. He slammed down in his chair.
"Can you believe that? He chose you to drive, not me," he muttered.
"You know, women drive just as well as men. Some even better," she said, trying to sound upbeat. Sledge groaned and shook his head.
"Blah blah blah Doreau."
"Hammer, you have to face it..."
"Yap yap yap. Take your chipper chipmunk act somewhere else."
"FINE," said Dori, slamming a desk drawer. "You have no argument..."
"Please, I just have better things to do."
"Like what?" she asked, crossing her arms.
He opened some files and acted like he was working for a long moment.
"OH! It's lunch time!" Sledge said loudly, slamming down the files he was holding. "Don't you owe me a hot dog?"
Dori rolled her eyes. He stood up and looked at her expectantly. She threw her hands up, grabbed her purse and walked with him out the door.
Across a few desks, Majoy and Daley heard the whole exchange, and watched the two senior officers leave together.
"Think they're doin' it?" winked Majoy.
"If not now, soon," said Daley. "Or they'll...I need a verb."
They laughed and got back to their Mad Libs game.
The car was a red and cream '57 Chevy and even Dori was hesitant about driving it. She felt stupid in the lace collared shirt, poodle skirt, pony tail and saddle shoes. Sledge didn't seem to mind the jock outfit, but he pouted about being in the passenger seat.
But the drive-in looked beautful as they pulled in, neon glowing and the screen flickering in the mild spring air. They found a parking spot a few rows from the front and set the speaker up. Sledge seemed to relax a little. She thought he looked good in the letterman's jacket, tee shirt, jeans and All-Stars but kept the compliments to herself.
They watched the dancing hot dogs and marching ice creams. Then came an old classroom film about juvenile delinquency, which Sledge enjoyed. All the while, they kept an eye out for anyone acting strangely, or anyone ogling the car. So far the evening was peaceful, save for the shouts of children running between cars, spilling popcorn. The first fireflies of the season speckled the night sky.
Sledge yawned and stretched out his arms. He looked at Dori closely and draped one across her shoulders. She gave him a smile and moved closer. "It's so nice here," she sighed. "Quiet, even."
He rolled his eyes. "We're not supposed to be enjoying this. There could be soul sucking scumbags in any of these cars."
"Sledge, there's nothing going on. Can't we just enjoy the evening?"
He didn't say anything, but kept his arm around her. The movie started and Dori figured she'd be better off watching it. "The Blob" was corny but it was better than trying to reason with her partner. Sledge was a Steve McQueen fan. His attention was on the screen, not their surroundings.
Dori moved in a little closer, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt his gun dig into her hip. Sledge swallowed and turned to face her. Dori closed her eyes and felt his lips brush hers, softly at first. She put a hand on his face, to deepen the kiss. He responded, not being too demanding, but more intimate than he'd even been.
She was so turned on her fingertips tingled. Sledge moved his hand out of her hair and to her side, making lazy circles closer and closer to her chest. She could feel his pulse quickening as he abandoned her mouth and went to her neck. She raked her nails down his back, squirming against the seat, kissing him wherever she could.
Dori was just about to help him unbutton her blouse when someone knocked at the passenger side window. She was vaguely aware the windows were fogged, making it nearly impossible to see in. Sledge untangled himself from Dori and cranked it the window down. Dori moved back to the driver's seat, flushed and more than a little angry at the intrusion.
"Nice car ya got here. Ever think of selling it? I'd be willing to talk price tonight," said the intruder. Even his voice is stupid, thought Dori. She snorted.
"Well, we're not thinking of selling now, but for the right price, we can talk," said Sledge, in a pained voice. Oops, thought Dori.
"Here's my card. Call anytime after ten. Or we could arrange a trade. I've got a '60 T-Bird that's collecting dust," said the man. He peeked in the car at Dori and winked. "Let the little lady get something for herself too."
"This is MY CAR," Dori hissed, showing her teeth and startling Sledge. The man held up his arms and backed away.
Dori let out a breath and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. Sledge held his head in his hands.
"I think that's our maggot," said Sledge, looking like he'd be more comfortable in a fetal position. His hair was on end and lipstick marks covered his face. Whatever mood the man interrupted was gone. Dori was madder than she'd been in a long time.
"Got carried away," said Sledge weakly, trying to straighten out his jacket.
She shook her head and leaned back against the seat, sighing. Maybe she wanted to get carried away, in more ways than one. "It's okay. It's fine," she said. Sledge looked at her warily and shook his own head. He stared out the windshield, back at the movie, back on the job. Dori folded her arms and tried to watch too.
The screen flickered to black and around them, headlights popped on. It was midnight, and everyone was headed home for bed or to continue the party. Sledge was in a light doze, still lipstick covered and tousle-haired. She shook him and he yawned.
"Nothing doing here," she said. The car started with a rumble. At least it would get back clean and undamaged. Dori hung the speaker back up and was just about to pull away when she became conscious of a dark figure standing beside her. She whispered Sledge's name. His hand moved to his gun.
"You sure you won't sell?" asked the idiot from earlier. Dori felt her anger rise again. The man was wearing a greaser outfit, despite being about 50 and 50 pounds overweight.
"No, we aren't selling, despite what you hear from him," she said, motioning to Sledge.
"Too bad, too bad, I thought we could make a deal," said the fat greaser, who didn't seem in a hurry to leave. "You two are new around here."
"Yep," said Dori absentmindedly.
The greaser leaned down, almost whispering in her ear.
"If you ever want to ditch this guy and take me for a ride, I'm usually here Saturdays."
Sledge perked up from the passenger seat and leaned over Dori. "Back off bucko. She and I ride together," he said, squinting. "She doesn't ride with tubby scumbags."
"Oh yeah? Maybe she needs to find someone with their own car, who does their own driving, tough guy."
Sledge made to lunge but Dori poked him in the ribs.
"We really have to go," she said, putting the car in gear.
The greaser put his hand on the door.
"Not so fast baby. I want you...and I want the car...and I want to beat that sissy idiot to a pulp."
"That's it," Sledge spat, grabbing for his gun. Instead, Dori gunned the engine and took off, throwing the greaser off balance and Sledge against the back of the seat. She slalomed out of the parking lot, and was thinking they may be in the clear when a pink Cadillac swooped out of an exit after them.
Sledge muttered something and held his gun out, ready to react. The Caddy moved behind them, out of drive-in itself and onto the frontage road. Dori hit the accelerator and the car's wheels spun, sliding in about 12 different directions at once until it rocketed forward. There was another noise over the screaming engine. Gunshots. The people in the Cadillac were shooting at them. Sledge leaned out the passenger side window and fired a few shots and Dori desperately concentrated on the road.
An intersection loomed ahead, with a red light. The Cadillac was gaining on them. Dori held steady, hoping and praying the light would change. Sledge's eyes grew wide. He yelled her name, but still held his gun out the window. Frantically, Dori searched for an escape route, but the Chevy's forward momentum wouldn't allow anything. About 30 feet from the crosswalk, the light turned green, and she powered through. The Caddy followed, looking even more menacing with its arched fins and dual headlights.
The road blurred and the car began to smell hot. The temperature gauge was starting to creep up, something else terrifying to concentrate on. Sledge was all the way back in the car now. He looked white as a ghost.
A curve loomed ahead. Dori knew she'd have to brake to get into it safely, but she ran the risk of being hit from behind. The smaller, nimbler Chevy would have to make it. There was a drop on one side and a cement wall on the other.
"Hold on Sledge!"
She tapped the brake into the curve and hit the accelerator, swinging the wheel and bracing herself in the seat. The rear wheels slid, then caught in the loose macadam, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris. They spun for a forever-second as Dori gritted her teeth and swung the wheel the other way. It took another eternity, but the car responded, fishtailing back on the narrow road, which was now a straightaway.
Dori had the strangest feeling. Out of sheer terror came a sort of mad elation. She smiled at Sledge, who could only manage a puzzled expression back. He was trying to reach the portable unit in the glovebox while holding on for dear life.
On they screamed, until Dori realized no one was behind them anymore. A roadhouse with a busy parking lot stood ahead, so she came to a wheel-stuttering deceleration and pulled in. The temperature gauge pegged to H. There was a pause in the car. Sledge was still fumbling with shaking hands trying to open the glove box.
Dori felt a wave of relief, then pure nausea. She jumped out of the car on uneasy legs, needing the fresh air. The sick feeling passed after a few minutes, and she heard Sledge raise someone on the radio. The soft breeze fanned her body, cooling it down after - like the car - she'd been overheated. Twice.
"They have a unit coming to retrace our steps," said Sledge, slamming the car door shut and joining her.
He waited a beat.
"You know you're kind of pretty when you're insane."
Dori rolled her eyes but smiled. They were leaning against the front bumper, standing inches from one another. She reached up to try and wipe the lipstick off his face, and he obliged, leaning down.
"That's the first time you've said anything about how I look," said Dori, scrubbing away with her fingers. "God, this stuff sticks like tar."
"Yeah," was all Sledge replied. He had a faraway look in his eyes. Most of the lipstick was down to dull smears a minute later. Dori stepped back and he was looking beyond her, still a million miles away. So she leaned next to him again and waited.
Police cars started screaming by. Then came an ambulance. The lights faded into the distance as the sirens echoed from what seemed every direction.
"Is that from us? I hope not," said Dori. Suddenly something occurred to her. She circled the car, eyes going wide when she made it to the passenger side. "Oh my God, Sledge."
Sure enough, the paint was scraped along the door and speckled with rock chips. Dori touched the damage and felt sick all over again. Sledge crouched next to her and tried to wipe some of the dust off with his handkerchief.
"It's not too bad, Doreau. Not a big fix, but I'm no expert," he said, trying to reassure her. She crossed her arms and walked back to the front of the car, mad and tired and frustrated. Sledge stayed behind, still wiping the dust off the door. Music throbbed from the roadhouse and the night air was beginning to carry a chill. Dori shivered, watching the road, waiting for one of the cruisers to come back by and tell them what's going on.
"You cold?"
She was so wrapped in her thoughts she didn't hear Sledge walk up. He took the letterman's jacket off and handed it to her. Dori shrugged it on, grateful for the warmth. He leaned on the bumper again and she settled beside him. Dori was just about to make a remark about the stars when a police car pulled in. The officer got out and took a long look at the car and their outfits.
"They told me to tell you that Cadillac went off the road back a-ways and over the embankment," said the young man.
Dori grimaced and looked away.
"The Cadillac hit several trees on the way down and several boulders."
"Wow!" said Sledge.
"It proceeded down to the riverbed, where it rolled over a few times and caught on fire."
"Hey Dori, you hearing this? WOW!"
"Most of the occupants of the car were ejected, several were on fire. Too bad the river's dry this time of year. That would have helped. Anyway, we found a lot of drugs and cash and guns that spilled out. You guys snared some pretty bad dudes."
The officer eyed a very impressed Sledge and a traumatized Dori.
"Well, I gotta go. Drive safe," the officer said, tipping his hat to Dori. He walked slowly back to the cruiser and left. Dori felt even worse, something she wouldn't have thought was possible earlier in the evening.
Their ride back to the city was mostly silent. Sledge dozed a little. Dori was concerned about the damage to the car and getting more tired with the passing of each mile. She was awfully hungry too. They hadn't eaten a thing since leaving the station hours ago, and that was only a granola bar. Sledge ate his under duress.
The city lights loomed in the windshield. Sledge stirred and stretched. She could hear his spine crackle.
"I know someone who can fix that damage tonight. However, you can't say anything about where we're going. Let me do the talking," said Sledge. Dori nodded, and he began to give directions toward the industrial part of town, to an area she was vaguely familiar with. He told her to turn into the open door of a well-it quonset hut covered with graffiti. A couple of faces peered out of an office at them.
Sledge got out and slammed the door. The men walked out nervously. That changed when they recognized him.
"Hey it's Inspector Hammer! Nice car!"
Dori knew who they were now. They were a few of the hoodlums from that troubled high school. She didn't realize Sledge was still in touch.
"Detective Doreau and I were undercover tonight and she got some scrapes on the door. You know, women behind the wheel and their distance judgement - "
Dori shot him a dirty look.
"Anyway, beside that, do you guys think you can buff all this out so we don't get the riot act?"
The two hoodlums looked closely at the door and ran their fingers over the scuffs.
"Nah, not a problem. Take us about an hour," said the taller of the two.
"Good," said Sledge. "We'll head across the street and be back."
The guys were taping off the area they were going to buff when Dori and Sledge walked out. An all night diner beckoned with its neon. Dori was concerned about the car. But Sledge didn't seem to care.
The steamy warmth of the diner enveloped them, and cut the chill. They both ordered a lot of food and coffee.
"I guess we learned a lot about each other tonight," said Dori, stirring her cup.
"Yeah, I guess," said Sledge. He leaned in. "Where did you learn how to drive like that?"
Dori sighed. She didn't like talking about her family.
"Just...I learned."
Thankfully, the food arrived and Sledge didn't ask anything else. Dori drowned her fries in ketchup and ate them with a fork. Sledge put some of his fries on his burger, something she thought was a waste.
Then he did something he'd never done before. Sledge ordered a shake with two straws and pushed it to the center of the table. He looked at Dori expectantly. They both leaned in and started drinking it. Not a word passed between them until it was finished.
Dori smiled shyly at Sledge, who cast his eyes down. Through their partnership, she knew he was uncomfortable showing any emotion other than aggression in public. Sharing the shake was a huge deal for him and for them, maybe even more than the make-out session in the car.
Not that Sledge was picky. He always finished what she couldn't, whether it was a salad or a burger or a bowl of cereal. At first she thought it was an odd habit (especially the cereal), but after a while she'd just push over the plate and watch him go. He'd continue talking and eating like there was nothing to it.
They settled up and left the diner, leaving its warmth for the blast of cold night air. They were walking down the steps when Dori's heart ran cold. The shop's lights were off and it had a deserted air.
"Sledge, oh my God," she said.
He scanned the street.
"See, there it is," he said, pointing a block down. "You always expect the worst."
Dori walked briskly to the old car, which sat gleaming under a street lamp. She circled it and smiled. The door was repaired. The car was washed. But where was the key? Sledge checked all the wheel wells and found it, on the back passenger side.
"This car looks amazing. But I wanted to give them some money or at least buy them a meal," said Dori, getting in.
"They don't work that way. They're not bad kids, they're just different. Everything's failed them."
"Except you," Dori smiled, starting the car.
Sledge just shrugged.
"You know, I've grown fond of this old tub. Maybe some day I'll get one."
Dori and Sledge were leaning on the bumper again, this time at the top of the police department's parking garage. Their own less memorable cars were parked nearby.
"These cars aren't very safe, Doreau. No seatbelts. Everything's pointy," said Sledge, squinting off toward the horizon. Soon it would be early dawn.
"Yeah, but look at it, you have to admit it's stylish. Somehow your Dodge and my Tempo don't measure up," said Dori.
Sledge rolled his eyes.
They stood silently for a few minutes, watching the planes go overhead and the fog start to roll in.
"Want your jacket back? You must be freezing. At least I have a sweater on underneath," said Dori.
"Nah, you can turn it in with everything else. Besides, you look better in it than I do."
Dori was stunned. Two near-compliments in one night! Throw the shake in and you nearly had a miracle. She decided to try for one.
"Sledge...next Friday night, would you like to come over for dinner and a movie?"
He turned slowly, caught off-guard, even though she'd asked the same question countless times before. Dori held her breath.
Sledge nodded.
Then she started nodding. Dori was stunned and that was the only response she could muster.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay," she said back. "Okay."
He gave her a weak smile and she smiled back. Then they both talked at the same time.
"I'm tired."
"I'm bushed."
"Well..."
Dori was so taken aback by his agreeing to dinner she was about to turn around and walk back to her car. Instead, Sledge grabbed her elbow and pulled her back for a kiss. When they broke for air, he said, "You have to tell me about your driving sometime."
She felt a familiar sickness wash over her. It was the same feeling that always accompanied anything concerning her family.
"Sometime, Sledge. See you later," she said.
He nodded and watched her leave, giving a small wave. Dori drove a few blocks away and took a few moments to soak everything in.
He does love me.
He might not love my past.
But he loves me.