Approximately three hundred million people populated the United States, the state of California took a chunk of nearly forty million off that amount, and its city of Los Angeles was home to almost ten million persons of all races, creeds and colors. On a crisp, cool Friday evening of November, there were two important and relevant servants to those people on a fun date, Officers Christina Sanchez and Jim Street,
Not to say they ignored their environment. Officer Michael Boxer was nearly ready to return to the team. Hondo finally found a permanent replacement. Their S.W.A.T. unit also had six hostage crises within three days. However, for Jim and Chris this date was indeed an escape where they could finally open up to each other without a civilian needing to be immediately protected.
Hondo's team was at the first of six hostage crises. It concerned a longtime office worker named Mick who expected a promotion and never got it. Mick chose to purchase an illegal gun and trap his immediate supervisor and several co-workers in a seventh floor office. Negotiations went on for a while, but the mentally unstable man would not yield.
Street and Sanchez were dispatched into the building, bypassed security cameras, slipped through stairways and neared the hallway adjacent to the office of Mick and the hostages. While they awaited Hondo's word, Jim had flashes of he and Brian Gamble ignoring a hold. The difference from that point in time and where he was with Chris, was that he neither had to cover up for her nor had any underlying distrust for her.
Jim asked her to dinner. Mick ranted over the phone. Chris said yes in an instant. Negotiations failed. Hondo made the call to advance. Street and Sanchez blew kisses at each other, then stormed in and aimed their weapons at their perpetrator. Mick buckled, dropped to the floor, and cowered. No one was hurt, and one date was made.
It was a first date, but they did not wish it to be like their first drink with his evil, former partner. At a restaurant they lively conversed with little mention of work. Jim recounted a childhood story. "I hobbled into the candy store crying, almost completely drenched in mud. My dad smiled at me and hugged me anyway even though I was got his uniform dirty."
"Well what did he do?" Chris asked, and sipped her wine.
"Nothing. Stared at the kids who pushed me," Jim laughed.
"Your Dad sounds amazing," she complimented.
"You'll meet him soon. Not to dredge up old relationships, but I think he'll like you more than Lara, my ex."
"Because I'm a cop?" She guessed, having the knowledge of his father's background.
"Also because you're a mom." he said, taking a swallow of his red wine.
She chuckled, out of amusement and a little confusion. "What?"
"He wants grandkids," Street sheepishly clarified.
"He wouldn't like me for me?" Chris asked with discontent.
"On the contrary, he's a progressive father. Who you are, a mother and a cop, he'll respect the shit out of you."
"I can accept that," she said, and took in a larger gulp of wine. "Would you ever want to meet my parents?"
Jim was taken slightly aback by her question. He would not be offensive as to say no to ever wanting to meet them. He liked everything about her and wondered why she didn't sense it. "I'd be honored to meet them. They brought you into this world. They raised you to be the strong woman I've admired and adored during these last few months. Shit, that sounded far too selfish. I'm sorry."
The raven-haired Chris indeed did not find his comments to be self centered. Sure, his wine consumption gave him the bravery, but everything had a context, and she read it the way Jim intended. It was such a slight sequitur, as her wine intake equaled his. "I'm flattered by what you said, and I know my folks would adore you, too."
Neither of them was inebriated enough to lose sight of their rekindled attraction. For the first time since dinner, Jim and Chris ceased speaking as their hands stealthily grasped over the table. The restaurant was not crowded. There were no other eyes watching their moment except the waiters and busboys who have seen similar interactions and backed off.
"What are you thinking, Jim?" Chris began a new topic.
There was this gorgeous and intelligent woman who sat across from him. He stroked her silky hands, and she was not pulling away. He had moments of hand touching with the women. But none of them, not even Lara, was as affectionate. Chris Sanchez was light years ahead of all.
"You're awesome, I can't expand my vocabulary enough for you, that's how so damn awesome you are." Jim answered.
"In that case, I hope you downloaded that thesaurus app for me," she sexily whispered. It did not sound like the quip it was.
Their hands squeezed ever so slightly. The second, longer kiss on the beach was simply a primer of what could be. But ironically, this reaction was more intimate. She saw and met her share of players and dogs. Jim Street certainly had those tendencies, but they never resurfaced after their first night out. She was attracted to him, and that was all that mattered. It was difficult for her to become infatuated with a man since her first gave her third degree mental burns. Jim beat those odds.
Jim went into this date, this potential signature to the relationship, unaware of what would happen. Now as the night progressed, he foresaw a positive future. He gestured to the waiter for the check. They left arm-in-arm, and felt more comfortable with each other than ever, whether on the job or not.
There were dozens of dating shows for the American masses to view and enjoy. Chris Sanchez knew about these shows, mostly because her two older, married sisters tried to to coax her to be on one. But Chris was not having that. There was one thing that she learned from watching these shows with them: the couple sometimes sat in a hot tub. Jim Street agreed to her invite to the nightcap. "How about we risk drowning and go to a hot tub?"
"No bathing suit," he said, tongue firmly in cheek.
"Nice try. We can buy a couple of cheapies on the way," she liked what he said, and how he said it, but still had to keep him in check.
A WalMart stop later, they patronized a lovely establishment where private hot tubs with cave-like surroundings are utilized. Jim, in his swim trunks, immersed into the bubbling, gushing container of water. The therapeutic nature of this had not gone unnoticed, for he and his team had worked so vigorously recently. He went in neck high, sat for a moment, closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth.
"Don't you dare fall asleep," Chris said through a smile.
He opened his eyes to see her poised on the small stairway leading to the hot tub. He made a mental note to thank WalMart for the view, for she was in a black bikini that complimented her stunningly perfect physique. She was nearly flawless, save for healed scars from her hazardous time as a beat cop. He found those to be very sexy, highlighting her dangerous side. Jim also loved seeing her hair up, except while it was hidden under her helmet at work. Chris' graceful immersion in the water to meet Jim recalls the Lady of the Lake moving towards King Arthur. She loved showing off for him not only here, but also at work.
"Feels great," she moaned, writhing ever so slightly while neck deep in the water. Chris couldn't help but notice that Jim was not completely comfortable. But the night did not lie, and she felt that all he needed to get back into the mood was a little incentive. "You know, there's only so much that steaming hot water can do. Please, relax. You're here with me, okay?"
Jim was bold enough to ask her out on the job, but ironically he was unsure of how to make the first move in this ideal situation. In the recesses of his mind, he also was aware of how men have mistreated her in her young life. Jim did not want Chris to be just another notch in his bedpost nor did he want to be another negative statistic in her social life. She eased backward between his legs. Jim massaged her shoulders and neck.
"Hey, Sanchez." he said, gently caressing her.
She faced him and brushed her palms over his broad torso. "Hey, Street."
Jim Street leaned in as if there were no water to resist, and brought his lips to hers, locking the two of them in a kiss. Chris Sanchez tucked herself into his rock hard abdomen, wrapped her strong legs around his waist and deeply kissed back.
"Are you sure you want this? Can we make this work?" she asked, catching her breath.
"We already know the answers," he said.
Jim and Chris kissed again, a sustained, pleasant kiss, that which she intensified by pressing her bosom into his chest. The water steamed around them, causing their hearts to beat harder than normal.
This date was a success. Although they wanted to have sex, they had to end their spa romp at the spa. As law enforcement officers, they could not risk being caught literally with their pants down. He had an itching to invite her to his place, but his maturity set in, not to mention their fatigue.
The Uber ride home was quiet, peaceful, and romantic. Chris rested in his lap, exhausted from not only this week of caring for Eliza and working long shifts, but also ingesting red wine and ardently making out. Jim stroked her damp hair, moving it away from her face.
Close to one AM, the new couple strolled up the walkway to her house. The night was chilly, as she had his jacket draped over her shoulders. They stopped near the front door to face each other
"I'd invite you in, but I can't with Eliza here." Chris said, slightly arching her neck up to face him.
Jim smiled and calmly held up his palm, silently giving her his understanding. She smiled as well, but quickly became coy by clasping his jacket closer to her body. "All night you've gone out of your way to make me feel human. I'm not accustomed to it."
Jim felt no need to further add to her point. "Well, listen, rather than trying to describe how great this night was, permit me to do this."
Jim leaned in and gave her multiple good night kisses on the lips. They were both tired, so this was their simpler way to express affection without too much intensity.
"Get home safely, Jim," was her departure line.
"Thank you for a great date," was his sendoff.
Chris giggled again, and handed him his jacket. If it were any other circumstances or man, she would have dismissed him as being full of it. But her instincts were on the money. She playfully pointed at him, then walked toward her house.
"Please turn around, turn around, turn around," he quietly muttered to himself, and Chris, while she widened the gap.
As if the Gods were on his side, Chris Sanchez summoned her strength, turned around, took a running leap into his arms and kissed him. He kissed back. It differed from the ones on the beach and the ones in the spa. Yes it was lengthy, deep, and pleasurable, but it was the very signature of the letter that is their relationship. It was a matter of time until someone had to read this letter.
To be continued