God I love chasing down a perp. There is something so exhilarating about
running down some jag off, the blood pumping, the heart racing and the
adrenalin soaring. But nothing, nothing compares to taking him down.
I'm just getting the guy cuffed as Faith pulls up in the RMP. She gets out and gives me her lopsided grin and I smile back. Things have been good between us, really good. It's been almost a month since that night in the bar. I can still remember the feel of her hand in mine. Hell, I can even imagine what those hands would feel like on more inappropriate parts of my body.
The perp I'm loading into the backseat spits at me and I'm dragged away from my most recent Faith fantasy. I wipe it away and look up to see her laughing at me, God she's so beautiful when she laughs. I have this sudden urge to kiss her but I shrug it off.
*****
It's been a long shift and the thought of going home is less then appealing. Have I mentioned that I'm destined to be unhappy? It almost seems as though some higher power wants me to choose between my husband and my partner. When things are good with Boz, they're bad with Fred, things are good with Fred, they're bad with Boz. It's so frustrating I want to scream.
If I'm honest with myself, I have to admit, I prefer things to be good with Boz. Fred and I fighting is normal, I'm used to it, hell I even expect it, and as awful as it sounds, it doesn't bother me. Fighting with Boz is like losing oxygen, I can't breath, I can't think, everything becomes dark and scary.
I have this sudden impulse to ask Boz out for a drink, delay the inevitable, hell just be near him for a few minutes more.
"I'm kinda wound, you wanna go do something, you know let off some steam?"
He gives me this look and I'm half expecting a lewd comment. I can see him struggle to restrain himself and for some reason I'm disappointed when he remains quiet.
" Sure, I could use a drink, you gotta call Fred?"
I cringe at the mention of my husband and Boz catches it. He gives me a funny look so I shrug.
"Nah, he'll be fine."
Boz smiles at this and I wonder if he's glad I'm not calling home first.
*****
I think this is the one of the first time ever Faith has invited me out for a drink. Regardless, the occasions are rare. For some reason we end up in the same bar I brought Faith to almost one month ago, it somehow seemed appropriate.
The waitress recognizes us and asks if we want the usual. I momentarily wonder how slow this place must be for her to remember our drink orders. The thought passes and I look over to Faith.
"I could deal with something a little stronger tonight, maybe a shot or something"
I'm surprised by her request. I guess I didn't realize this was a getting trashed event. I instantly become concerned but tell the waitress to bring us a couple shots of whatever's on hand. It really doesn't matter what you're drinking when the only purpose is getting drunk.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, just in the mood for drinking."
"You and Fred fighting again?"
"Yeah, it's no big deal, it'll pass."
Our shots arrive and before I've even finished paying the waitress Faith's finished hers and is requesting another.
"Faith are you sure getting drunk's the answer here?"
She doesn't answer me at first but instead gets this far away look in her eyes. Instantly I know it is a big deal, I want more then anything to make things right.
"What the hell is wrong with me Boz, why can't I manage to juggle work and my family life? I mean, I try, God knows I try, I just can't seem to get it together."
"Faith, you are an amazing Mom to those kids and a great cop, you do better then most."
"Maybe"
The conversation is dropped, the look on her face brooks no argument. She takes her next shot and I'm instantly drawn to her mouth. The desire to kiss her comes back tenfold.
She looks down into her empty glass and a strand of hair falls into her face. Without thinking I reach up and tuck it behind her ear. She looks up startled and I'm tempted to tell her everything I've kept hidden from her for so many years.
*****
Boz is looking at me again, that stare he gets sometimes. I've tried to decipher it but I think I might be scared of the answer I'll find. There's music playing on the jukebox and I wonder if I should ask Boz to dance. The thought makes me giggle and Boz shoots me a dirty look.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just. you wanna dance, maybe?"
*****
Did she just ask me to dance? I must have been staring at her for longer then I thought. She looks embarrassed and mumbles a quite "never mind".
"Yeah, I could dance."
I don't think she was expected that and I notice she's now blushing. I wonder if it's the alcohol or something more.
I've danced with Faith once before but never to anything slow. I'm trying desperately to keep calm but I feel like I'm a kid crushing on the girl with the pigtails in the second grade.
Faith and I move surprisingly well together. She feels good here, right. Her scent surrounds me and her warmth is intoxicating. I don't think I've ever been this hard in my life and I wish, for the umpteenth time, that she wasn't married.
I'm just getting the guy cuffed as Faith pulls up in the RMP. She gets out and gives me her lopsided grin and I smile back. Things have been good between us, really good. It's been almost a month since that night in the bar. I can still remember the feel of her hand in mine. Hell, I can even imagine what those hands would feel like on more inappropriate parts of my body.
The perp I'm loading into the backseat spits at me and I'm dragged away from my most recent Faith fantasy. I wipe it away and look up to see her laughing at me, God she's so beautiful when she laughs. I have this sudden urge to kiss her but I shrug it off.
*****
It's been a long shift and the thought of going home is less then appealing. Have I mentioned that I'm destined to be unhappy? It almost seems as though some higher power wants me to choose between my husband and my partner. When things are good with Boz, they're bad with Fred, things are good with Fred, they're bad with Boz. It's so frustrating I want to scream.
If I'm honest with myself, I have to admit, I prefer things to be good with Boz. Fred and I fighting is normal, I'm used to it, hell I even expect it, and as awful as it sounds, it doesn't bother me. Fighting with Boz is like losing oxygen, I can't breath, I can't think, everything becomes dark and scary.
I have this sudden impulse to ask Boz out for a drink, delay the inevitable, hell just be near him for a few minutes more.
"I'm kinda wound, you wanna go do something, you know let off some steam?"
He gives me this look and I'm half expecting a lewd comment. I can see him struggle to restrain himself and for some reason I'm disappointed when he remains quiet.
" Sure, I could use a drink, you gotta call Fred?"
I cringe at the mention of my husband and Boz catches it. He gives me a funny look so I shrug.
"Nah, he'll be fine."
Boz smiles at this and I wonder if he's glad I'm not calling home first.
*****
I think this is the one of the first time ever Faith has invited me out for a drink. Regardless, the occasions are rare. For some reason we end up in the same bar I brought Faith to almost one month ago, it somehow seemed appropriate.
The waitress recognizes us and asks if we want the usual. I momentarily wonder how slow this place must be for her to remember our drink orders. The thought passes and I look over to Faith.
"I could deal with something a little stronger tonight, maybe a shot or something"
I'm surprised by her request. I guess I didn't realize this was a getting trashed event. I instantly become concerned but tell the waitress to bring us a couple shots of whatever's on hand. It really doesn't matter what you're drinking when the only purpose is getting drunk.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, just in the mood for drinking."
"You and Fred fighting again?"
"Yeah, it's no big deal, it'll pass."
Our shots arrive and before I've even finished paying the waitress Faith's finished hers and is requesting another.
"Faith are you sure getting drunk's the answer here?"
She doesn't answer me at first but instead gets this far away look in her eyes. Instantly I know it is a big deal, I want more then anything to make things right.
"What the hell is wrong with me Boz, why can't I manage to juggle work and my family life? I mean, I try, God knows I try, I just can't seem to get it together."
"Faith, you are an amazing Mom to those kids and a great cop, you do better then most."
"Maybe"
The conversation is dropped, the look on her face brooks no argument. She takes her next shot and I'm instantly drawn to her mouth. The desire to kiss her comes back tenfold.
She looks down into her empty glass and a strand of hair falls into her face. Without thinking I reach up and tuck it behind her ear. She looks up startled and I'm tempted to tell her everything I've kept hidden from her for so many years.
*****
Boz is looking at me again, that stare he gets sometimes. I've tried to decipher it but I think I might be scared of the answer I'll find. There's music playing on the jukebox and I wonder if I should ask Boz to dance. The thought makes me giggle and Boz shoots me a dirty look.
"What?"
"Nothing, I just. you wanna dance, maybe?"
*****
Did she just ask me to dance? I must have been staring at her for longer then I thought. She looks embarrassed and mumbles a quite "never mind".
"Yeah, I could dance."
I don't think she was expected that and I notice she's now blushing. I wonder if it's the alcohol or something more.
I've danced with Faith once before but never to anything slow. I'm trying desperately to keep calm but I feel like I'm a kid crushing on the girl with the pigtails in the second grade.
Faith and I move surprisingly well together. She feels good here, right. Her scent surrounds me and her warmth is intoxicating. I don't think I've ever been this hard in my life and I wish, for the umpteenth time, that she wasn't married.