Chapter 2
Theresa gulped in great breaths of air as sob after sob tore from her lips. It wasn't fair. "It's not fair," she cried. Flinging the bathroom stall open without another thought in her head.
"My heavens!" a little old lady exclaimed. Waddling out of the stall with her pantyhose around her ankles. "Oh dear," she fretted as she got a closer look at her 'assailant.'
Theresa's mascara run in black rivers down her cheeks.
"Young people these days," she shook her head. Scurrying out the bathroom door.
Theresa yanked the stall door closed and leaned her head against the wall.
"Lethal Weapon," Kay pushed the door open cautiously. "Lethal Weapon…are you in here?"
The suspicious shaking of the stall separating the two toilets offered definitive proof her theory was correct.
She hopped up on the bathroom counter. Kicking her feet back and forth. A gleeful expression on her face. This COULD be fun. "Ethan and Brandy are SO cute together."
A sniffle from the bathroom stall made the smile on her face stretch even wider.
"Ethan's so far gone…the kid is so full of gas she's about to blow a gasket. He thinks she's smiling. That she loves him. But we know the truth, don't we Terrorcita?"
Another sniffle. Followed by a very faint, "What's that?"
The bathroom stall cracked open. Inch by precious inch.
Obviously the play on words was lost on her. What was she saying? OF COURSE, it was. "She's using him for food. But I'm afraid poor wittle Ethan doesn't realize that. I think it's better someone let him down easy. Before he starts having delusions the kid likes him or something. Don't you? Don't you think you should show him who really loves him? And we all know who that person is."
"Me," Theresa trembled. "That person is me. And you're right, Kay. Ethan has to know. It's all an act. She's just using him. I'm the one that REALLY loves him," she said.
Kay bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. The girl was just TOO easy. And off her rocker.
Theresa crossed the bathroom in two or three strides. And it was then Kay noticed…
"Um…Theresa," she got her attention.
There was a wad of toilet paper six feet long stuck (via bubblegum, no doubt—bless all the bratty seven-year-olds in the world!) to the bottom of Theresa's chunky heel.
The rather vocal little devil on Kay's shoulder drowned out all the angel's desperate pleas to be nice. Just this once. And Kay's dark eyes sparkled mischievously as she answered with a small half-smile, "Oh…nothing important. Go get him," she encouraged. Shuddering when Theresa smiled at her in thanks.
They didn't make Halloween masks THAT scary.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"This is a stick-up," a low, feminine voice whispered in his ear. Sending shivers up and down his spine.
"Should I hold up my hands?" he asked. A grin playing on his lips.
"You stole my next line," she grumbled. "Hostages aren't supposed to be so cooperative. Neither are husbands for that matter," she smiled.
"Well…" he raised a brow at her as she walked in front of him to take a seat on the edge of his desk. "Not many husbands have wives as sexy as I do. But if you want me to put up more of a fight," he smirked, "I'm all for it. Fighting CAN be…fun."
"Really?" she asked. Twisting the rings on her fingers around and around.
"Really," he told her. "Making up is the best part," he grinned. Giving her bare ankle a playful tug. "We haven't had a good fight yet, have we?"
"You have a point," she said. Her blue eyes twinkling back at him. "Have I told you lately how much I…HATE you?"
Luis chuckled under his breath as Quinlan's head snapped around. Pretty good impression of Linda Blair. Been watching "The Exorcist" lately? "You make me so sick," he growled.
"Ugh! I can't stand to look at you," she shrilled. Her blue eyes flashing with anger.
"The feeling's mutual," he shot back. His dark eyes black with feigned anger. And desire. Damn. He was so turned on right now…
Quinlan and Silvano snickered in the background. "I guess the Honeymoon's finally over. You owe me 50," Quinlan told Silvano.
Sheridan's cheeks flushed with color as she played the part. "I'm going home. Sure. It's your JOB. See how warm your job keeps you when you go home to that big…cold…empty bed," she jabbed him in the chest. "You know where to find me," she whispered with a wink.
He watched her stalk out of the police station with regret. He still had almost an hour left on his shift.
"What's the matter, Lo-Fitz?" Quinlan quizzed in disbelief. "Aren't you going to go after her? I know pride's this big thing. But sometimes you have to bite the bullet. Especially when your wife looks like…"
Luis's warning glare cooled his jets almost immediately.
"Look," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "We'll cover your ass for you on this end. We can't make no promises on the homefront."
"You really think I should go after her?" Luis pretended to be torn.
"Yeah, Man," Silvano nodded his head. "Then there's the make-up sex…"
Luis towered above both men menacingly. "I don't ever want to hear my wife and the word 'sex' from either of your mouths again. Clear?"
Both men backed down.
"I thought so," Luis grinned as he strode out the door. "Tell Sam the Johnson file's on my desk."
"His ass is so fried," Quinlan laughed.
"Whipped, Marty. Our dear friend is as whipped as they come," Silvano added his input.
Theresa gulped in great breaths of air as sob after sob tore from her lips. It wasn't fair. "It's not fair," she cried. Flinging the bathroom stall open without another thought in her head.
"My heavens!" a little old lady exclaimed. Waddling out of the stall with her pantyhose around her ankles. "Oh dear," she fretted as she got a closer look at her 'assailant.'
Theresa's mascara run in black rivers down her cheeks.
"Young people these days," she shook her head. Scurrying out the bathroom door.
Theresa yanked the stall door closed and leaned her head against the wall.
"Lethal Weapon," Kay pushed the door open cautiously. "Lethal Weapon…are you in here?"
The suspicious shaking of the stall separating the two toilets offered definitive proof her theory was correct.
She hopped up on the bathroom counter. Kicking her feet back and forth. A gleeful expression on her face. This COULD be fun. "Ethan and Brandy are SO cute together."
A sniffle from the bathroom stall made the smile on her face stretch even wider.
"Ethan's so far gone…the kid is so full of gas she's about to blow a gasket. He thinks she's smiling. That she loves him. But we know the truth, don't we Terrorcita?"
Another sniffle. Followed by a very faint, "What's that?"
The bathroom stall cracked open. Inch by precious inch.
Obviously the play on words was lost on her. What was she saying? OF COURSE, it was. "She's using him for food. But I'm afraid poor wittle Ethan doesn't realize that. I think it's better someone let him down easy. Before he starts having delusions the kid likes him or something. Don't you? Don't you think you should show him who really loves him? And we all know who that person is."
"Me," Theresa trembled. "That person is me. And you're right, Kay. Ethan has to know. It's all an act. She's just using him. I'm the one that REALLY loves him," she said.
Kay bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. The girl was just TOO easy. And off her rocker.
Theresa crossed the bathroom in two or three strides. And it was then Kay noticed…
"Um…Theresa," she got her attention.
There was a wad of toilet paper six feet long stuck (via bubblegum, no doubt—bless all the bratty seven-year-olds in the world!) to the bottom of Theresa's chunky heel.
The rather vocal little devil on Kay's shoulder drowned out all the angel's desperate pleas to be nice. Just this once. And Kay's dark eyes sparkled mischievously as she answered with a small half-smile, "Oh…nothing important. Go get him," she encouraged. Shuddering when Theresa smiled at her in thanks.
They didn't make Halloween masks THAT scary.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"This is a stick-up," a low, feminine voice whispered in his ear. Sending shivers up and down his spine.
"Should I hold up my hands?" he asked. A grin playing on his lips.
"You stole my next line," she grumbled. "Hostages aren't supposed to be so cooperative. Neither are husbands for that matter," she smiled.
"Well…" he raised a brow at her as she walked in front of him to take a seat on the edge of his desk. "Not many husbands have wives as sexy as I do. But if you want me to put up more of a fight," he smirked, "I'm all for it. Fighting CAN be…fun."
"Really?" she asked. Twisting the rings on her fingers around and around.
"Really," he told her. "Making up is the best part," he grinned. Giving her bare ankle a playful tug. "We haven't had a good fight yet, have we?"
"You have a point," she said. Her blue eyes twinkling back at him. "Have I told you lately how much I…HATE you?"
Luis chuckled under his breath as Quinlan's head snapped around. Pretty good impression of Linda Blair. Been watching "The Exorcist" lately? "You make me so sick," he growled.
"Ugh! I can't stand to look at you," she shrilled. Her blue eyes flashing with anger.
"The feeling's mutual," he shot back. His dark eyes black with feigned anger. And desire. Damn. He was so turned on right now…
Quinlan and Silvano snickered in the background. "I guess the Honeymoon's finally over. You owe me 50," Quinlan told Silvano.
Sheridan's cheeks flushed with color as she played the part. "I'm going home. Sure. It's your JOB. See how warm your job keeps you when you go home to that big…cold…empty bed," she jabbed him in the chest. "You know where to find me," she whispered with a wink.
He watched her stalk out of the police station with regret. He still had almost an hour left on his shift.
"What's the matter, Lo-Fitz?" Quinlan quizzed in disbelief. "Aren't you going to go after her? I know pride's this big thing. But sometimes you have to bite the bullet. Especially when your wife looks like…"
Luis's warning glare cooled his jets almost immediately.
"Look," he cleared his throat awkwardly. "We'll cover your ass for you on this end. We can't make no promises on the homefront."
"You really think I should go after her?" Luis pretended to be torn.
"Yeah, Man," Silvano nodded his head. "Then there's the make-up sex…"
Luis towered above both men menacingly. "I don't ever want to hear my wife and the word 'sex' from either of your mouths again. Clear?"
Both men backed down.
"I thought so," Luis grinned as he strode out the door. "Tell Sam the Johnson file's on my desk."
"His ass is so fried," Quinlan laughed.
"Whipped, Marty. Our dear friend is as whipped as they come," Silvano added his input.