Two to Tango
Author: Lassar
Email: Dragonrampant@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 although I reserve the right to change the rating if it comes
to that.
Summary: Sequel to Miscommunication. Sara asks Ian out, thanks to a little
nudge from our resident Cupid-in-training, Vicki Po. You'll never guess
where she's taking him. Ok, so you might. Heh. Couldn't resist.
A/N: This is for all the wonderful people who pestered me for a sequel.
There is no greater gift I can give in return than this. Read, enjoy (I
hope!) and review. Please
Sara Pezzini, homicide detective extraordinaire and all around Cupid hater, blew in to work the day after Valentines' with a huge grin on her face. It wasn't quite the 'I-got-laid' smirk, more like 'the cat that got the canary', which only fueled the gossip traveling around the squad room.
Everyone had heard about the male stripper that had been Pezzini's Valentine present, even though all anyone had seen was his booted, helmeted, leather booty clad person leaving the station. They were all rather put out that they'd missed the show. Jake was persona non grata for not apprising them of the situation. Of course, McCarty was in trouble over the obscene amount of feminine attention he had received anyway, so it didn't make an appreciable difference in the cold on the shoulders of his male coworkers.
The only bad thing about spurning McCarty was that no one had the inside scoop on yesterday's incident. Captain Dante had walked in on the end of the striptease, intending to add another case to their workload, and had been completely sidetracked by what he encountered. He told Orlinski, who told everyone else, that the guy had been straddling Pezzini's lap. He also said she was grinning like an idiot and damn near drooling on the guy's package, which had been at eye level.
That was really all Dante knew. He'd lectured the detective in his office for an hour, and never once asked who the guy was, or who had sent him. All the women greeted that spectacular lack of curiosity with a frown. Each one had been thinking about hiring him for herself after watching him strut out of the building in that little leather thong, the rest of his clothing draped casually over one arm. He really had the most amazing. brass.
Since their captain had failed them, the women sent for their not- exactly-secret weapon, Vicki Po. The curly-haired forensic scientist with the personality of a demented elf was Sara's best friend on the force. If anyone could get all the juicy details, it was she.
Vicki offered no objection to their plan; she had every intention of finding out for herself anyway. Sara had a hot guy strip down in her office? Oh yeah, she was soooo there. In fact, she had beaten Pezzini in to the building by a good half hour, and was now waiting in Pez's office to pounce. She'd even sprung for coffee and a dozen chocolate long johns, the irony of them being too much to resist, as a bribe. Caffeine and sugar always made Sara talkative.
The whole department was in on the plan to extract more data, so when they saw Pezzini coming they tried to look casual, pretending to type or answer phones as Pez waltzed into her office. They might as well have not bothered. Sara was floating along on her own little cloud, oblivious to everything but the events of the previous day.
When Sara opened her door, all she could see was the piles of balloons, flowers, candy, and stuffed animals that Jake had acquired yesterday. The jerk could at least take his trophies home, instead of leaving them out like some kind of huge brag board. The gifts had been given in sincerity, and much as she might hate to admit it, the women who had gone to all this effort deserved better than this adolescent display.
She scowled for a moment, then her face cleared as the intoxicating scent of her tea roses reached to where she stood in the doorway. Sara once again smiled that dopey, happy smile of someone in deep as she thought about the rest of her presents. Some of the gifts captured more of her attention than others, to be sure.
The Godiva chocolates had been fabulous. Sara thought they might have tasted even better if she'd eaten them off the cobblestone abs of a certain surprisingly talented assassin. She licked her lips as she moved the rest of the way in, closing the door behind her.
"Hmmm, what could you be thinking about? Or do I need to ask?" the cheery voice of Vicki Po seemed to come out of the air.
Sara nearly jumped out of her skin. "Heya Vicki, didn't see you behind all the decorations."
Vicki batted the balloon bouquet to one side and grinned. "Didn't see me for the after-Valentine's Day sale display, or didn't see me because you're thinking about a sexy mmmmmaaannn?"
Pezzini laughed as Po drew out the last word in a singsong voice, complete with eyebrow bobbling. The urge to share details with someone who would appreciate them bubbled inside her. It was good to have her here, now Sara wouldn't have to wait until she could find some pretext to go down to the morgue to, figuratively speaking, spill her guts.
"What I'm about to tell you can't go any further than this room, capuche?" Sara sat on the edge of her desk and leaned forward, too excited to bother kicking Vicki out of her chair.
"With all those vultures out there waiting for the news? Are you crazy?" Vicki hiked a thumb back toward the glass window of the office. The amount of officers, male and female, 'working' in the vicinity of the office was laughable.
"Hmmm, you may have a point. I don't think you'd make it out of the area alive if you kept your silence. I guess you'll have to tell them something. I'd miss you if you were gone." Sara rolled her eyes and tried to think of something good enough to keep the rumor mill entertained and away from the truth. For some reason Pez did not think Nottingham would appreciate being the topic of conversation for a bunch of bored flatfoots. Not that she was either, but there was no getting out of it for her.
"Why don't you tell me what happened, and we'll come up with something you can live with the masses knowing." Vicki said pragmatically as she dug into the sack of donuts.
"That sounds like an excellent suggestion. Oh-mi-gawd, are those chocolate covered long johns? Why you little Freudian darling you." Sara snatched up one of the rather phallic shaped donuts while laughing again. That woman really was shameless.
Vicki sat back in her purloined chair and listened to Sara's story with an expression that would have done the Cheshire Cat proud. She didn't think she'd seen Pez this animated about anything since Danny had died. It was nice to see her starting to live again, instead of simply exist.
"Kenneth Irons?" Some fifteen minutes into the story Po almost choked on her coffee as Sara finally told her whose name had been on the card.
"Yeah, I know. Very out of character for someone like him. As it turns out, there was some kind of mix-up with the delivery arrangements. NOT that I am complaining, mind you." Sara got that goofy grin again as she flashbacked to the gyrating, nearly naked body of Ian Nottingham. Who knew the man had those kinds of moves hidden under his trench coat?
"I don't suppose you got the stripper's name, or the company that he works for, did you? There are several women panting to know. I gotta tell ya, if he looks even half as good as the rumors say, I'm probably going to book a delivery before leaving your office. I want to see him while he's still fresh." Po bobbled her eyebrows meaningfully. All that was left was for her to adopt a British accent and say 'Wink wink, nudge nudge. Say no more.'
"How could I? Dante all but dragged me into his office for a lecture about unprofessional behavior as soon as the music stopped. I thought I was never going to see him again, outside of my dreams." Pez sighed wistfully. She almost hadn't. If Irons hadn't seen Nottingham's beard puckering, if she hadn't forgotten her keys, and had to go back for them, she'd still be clueless. There was no way Ian would have willingly confessed to his role.
"I hear a 'but' in that last sentence." Vicki dragged Pezzini's attention back to the present.
"But, and this part is not for public consumption, the stripper turned out to be someone close to Mr. Irons." Sara was cut off as Vicki started to laugh.
"Oh, let me guess. The tall, dark, and studly Mr. Nottingham, right?" Just thinking about Sara's face when she found out was enough to send Po off again.
"How did you? Oh never mind. Yes, it was Nottingham." Sara rolled her eyes as Vicki bounced in the wooden chair, clearly pleased at having guessed correctly.
"So, when are you two going out again?" Po asked once she got over her fit of the giggles. It was hard to keep a straight face; her imagination kept giving her such lovely visuals of Sara with her jaw on the floor.
"Uhmm, he didn't exactly have a chance to ask," Sara shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Your fingers aren't broke, call Nottingham, and ask him out." Vicki said firmly. It would be just like Pez to blow this. She always was a wuss where relationships were concerned. If the guy didn't chase Sara like crazy, she thought he wasn't really interested. Too bad the department shrink was such a joke, or Po might suggest that Pezzini take some couch time and deal with her self-worth issues.
"Ask him out to do what?" Sara shot back. If Vicki had some brilliant plan, she was ready to hear it.
The idea had been on Sara's mind since her drive back from the mansion last night, she just couldn't think of anything. Working for the man who owned most of New York, Nottingham had been exposed to every cultural landmark in the city. He had no doubt eaten at restaurants that Sara couldn't afford a glass of water from.
The movie idea was right out, Sara didn't think her nerves were good enough to sit next to Ian for two hours in the dark. Especially when one takes into consideration how small the seats were. His leg would be pressed against hers the entire time and his arm on the armrest would be just below her breast. Oh no, that was so not an option. She'd end up jumping him like some oversexed teenager.
"Since he moves so well, how about clubbing in the Village?" Vicki plastered an innocent look on her face.
"No."
"Your place, for a night of wild sex?"
"Vicki Po! Not for a first date!"
"That's not what I heard about you."
"You know, I seem to remember a certain Christmas Party."
"Touché. Bungee jumping from Manhattan Bridge?"
"No. I don't even think that's legal."
"It's not. Since when has that mattered?"
"Since I am an officer of the law, sworn to abide by and uphold said law."
"You are no fun at all. Oh, I know. How about taking him to that new tango club that got those rave reviews in the Village Voice?"
"N-" Sara stopped mid-rejection and thought about it. This idea had merit. It was new, so he probably hadn't been there, it was classy enough she shouldn't run into her coworkers, and as long as she didn't order too many drinks from the bar, affordable. Best of all, it was something she'd always wanted to learn, but never had the opportunity.
"Well, do we have a winner?" Vicki asked after several moments of silence. She had never been particularly patient, especially when it was somebody else's love life being organized.
"Yes, yes we do. Now go out there and brave the lions. While they're picking your brain I should have a few minutes of peace and quiet, so I can call Nottingham. Remember, it was a mix-up at the delivery service and I don't know who it was." Sara made a shooing gesture with one hand while reaching for her cell phone with the other.
Vicki mock-saluted, winked, and sauntered out the door. Sara watched her go with a grin, shaking her head as the poor woman was mobbed. She turned toward the window, not wanting to witness the carnage.
Pez surfed down her phone's memory to the number she'd saved under the name Morpheus, since the first time Nottingham had called he'd asked if she'd had any dreams lately. It was the best she could come up with, since Sara was too smart to leave the name of an assassin on a department issued phone.
Or would that be too paranoid? Was it even possible for a cop to achieve such a state? Sara mused as she listened to the phone ring.
"Hey Nottingham," Sara began, consciously echoing that old conversation, her tone flirty.
"Hey Sara," Nottingham sounded surprised, but pleased.
"I was just wondering, what are you doing tonight?"
"The same thing I do every night, Sara."
"Try to take over the world?" Sara couldn't quite get the whole question out before the laughter began.
"Excuse me?" Nottingham was confused and slightly offended.
"Sorry, I guess you've never watched 'Pinky and the Brain'." Sara shook her head, slightly disgusted with herself. Of course Nottingham hadn't watched the show; it was a cartoon. The phrasing had been coincidental, not deliberate. She really needed to stop hanging out with Jake. Rookie partner in need of guidance or not, he was having a detrimental effect on her television habits.
"No, I have not. What can I do for you?" Ian made a mental note to find this program. If Lady Sara thought it worthwhile, he would see it for himself.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. There's a new tango bar that just opened up, I'd like to check it out." Sara found that she was holding her breath waiting for Nottingham's reply.
"The Marimba? I would be honored." Ian finally replied through his sense of shock. He had not expected to hear from Sara so soon, and to have her deliberately seeking his company for a date! A date that, by virtue of where they were going, he would be required to spend holding her in his arms. Nottingham would pinch himself to see if he was truly awake, but this was one dream he didn't want to end.
"Great! Can you pick me up? The Buell is hard on party clothes."
"Certainly. What time should I call on you?"
"They give free lessons to the early birds, so swing by the apartment around seven."
"I shall. Thank you for inviting me."
"Thank you for accepting." Sara hung up, giddy with relief. She had half expected Nottingham to shoot her down. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to wear, find a way to cut out of work early, and somehow get through the day without killing Jake, who was already late.
If Jake had a date last night with even a quarter of the women who sent him goodies, he was probably lying somewhere, to dehydrated to pick up the phone. Sara had a good chuckle imagining him a withered husk as she opened the first file on her desk. She tried to read it, she really did, but visions of being swept around the dance floor in Ian's arms kept distracting her. By the time Jake did arrive, over an hour later, Sara was still on that first page.
Sara Pezzini, homicide detective extraordinaire and all around Cupid hater, blew in to work the day after Valentines' with a huge grin on her face. It wasn't quite the 'I-got-laid' smirk, more like 'the cat that got the canary', which only fueled the gossip traveling around the squad room.
Everyone had heard about the male stripper that had been Pezzini's Valentine present, even though all anyone had seen was his booted, helmeted, leather booty clad person leaving the station. They were all rather put out that they'd missed the show. Jake was persona non grata for not apprising them of the situation. Of course, McCarty was in trouble over the obscene amount of feminine attention he had received anyway, so it didn't make an appreciable difference in the cold on the shoulders of his male coworkers.
The only bad thing about spurning McCarty was that no one had the inside scoop on yesterday's incident. Captain Dante had walked in on the end of the striptease, intending to add another case to their workload, and had been completely sidetracked by what he encountered. He told Orlinski, who told everyone else, that the guy had been straddling Pezzini's lap. He also said she was grinning like an idiot and damn near drooling on the guy's package, which had been at eye level.
That was really all Dante knew. He'd lectured the detective in his office for an hour, and never once asked who the guy was, or who had sent him. All the women greeted that spectacular lack of curiosity with a frown. Each one had been thinking about hiring him for herself after watching him strut out of the building in that little leather thong, the rest of his clothing draped casually over one arm. He really had the most amazing. brass.
Since their captain had failed them, the women sent for their not- exactly-secret weapon, Vicki Po. The curly-haired forensic scientist with the personality of a demented elf was Sara's best friend on the force. If anyone could get all the juicy details, it was she.
Vicki offered no objection to their plan; she had every intention of finding out for herself anyway. Sara had a hot guy strip down in her office? Oh yeah, she was soooo there. In fact, she had beaten Pezzini in to the building by a good half hour, and was now waiting in Pez's office to pounce. She'd even sprung for coffee and a dozen chocolate long johns, the irony of them being too much to resist, as a bribe. Caffeine and sugar always made Sara talkative.
The whole department was in on the plan to extract more data, so when they saw Pezzini coming they tried to look casual, pretending to type or answer phones as Pez waltzed into her office. They might as well have not bothered. Sara was floating along on her own little cloud, oblivious to everything but the events of the previous day.
When Sara opened her door, all she could see was the piles of balloons, flowers, candy, and stuffed animals that Jake had acquired yesterday. The jerk could at least take his trophies home, instead of leaving them out like some kind of huge brag board. The gifts had been given in sincerity, and much as she might hate to admit it, the women who had gone to all this effort deserved better than this adolescent display.
She scowled for a moment, then her face cleared as the intoxicating scent of her tea roses reached to where she stood in the doorway. Sara once again smiled that dopey, happy smile of someone in deep as she thought about the rest of her presents. Some of the gifts captured more of her attention than others, to be sure.
The Godiva chocolates had been fabulous. Sara thought they might have tasted even better if she'd eaten them off the cobblestone abs of a certain surprisingly talented assassin. She licked her lips as she moved the rest of the way in, closing the door behind her.
"Hmmm, what could you be thinking about? Or do I need to ask?" the cheery voice of Vicki Po seemed to come out of the air.
Sara nearly jumped out of her skin. "Heya Vicki, didn't see you behind all the decorations."
Vicki batted the balloon bouquet to one side and grinned. "Didn't see me for the after-Valentine's Day sale display, or didn't see me because you're thinking about a sexy mmmmmaaannn?"
Pezzini laughed as Po drew out the last word in a singsong voice, complete with eyebrow bobbling. The urge to share details with someone who would appreciate them bubbled inside her. It was good to have her here, now Sara wouldn't have to wait until she could find some pretext to go down to the morgue to, figuratively speaking, spill her guts.
"What I'm about to tell you can't go any further than this room, capuche?" Sara sat on the edge of her desk and leaned forward, too excited to bother kicking Vicki out of her chair.
"With all those vultures out there waiting for the news? Are you crazy?" Vicki hiked a thumb back toward the glass window of the office. The amount of officers, male and female, 'working' in the vicinity of the office was laughable.
"Hmmm, you may have a point. I don't think you'd make it out of the area alive if you kept your silence. I guess you'll have to tell them something. I'd miss you if you were gone." Sara rolled her eyes and tried to think of something good enough to keep the rumor mill entertained and away from the truth. For some reason Pez did not think Nottingham would appreciate being the topic of conversation for a bunch of bored flatfoots. Not that she was either, but there was no getting out of it for her.
"Why don't you tell me what happened, and we'll come up with something you can live with the masses knowing." Vicki said pragmatically as she dug into the sack of donuts.
"That sounds like an excellent suggestion. Oh-mi-gawd, are those chocolate covered long johns? Why you little Freudian darling you." Sara snatched up one of the rather phallic shaped donuts while laughing again. That woman really was shameless.
Vicki sat back in her purloined chair and listened to Sara's story with an expression that would have done the Cheshire Cat proud. She didn't think she'd seen Pez this animated about anything since Danny had died. It was nice to see her starting to live again, instead of simply exist.
"Kenneth Irons?" Some fifteen minutes into the story Po almost choked on her coffee as Sara finally told her whose name had been on the card.
"Yeah, I know. Very out of character for someone like him. As it turns out, there was some kind of mix-up with the delivery arrangements. NOT that I am complaining, mind you." Sara got that goofy grin again as she flashbacked to the gyrating, nearly naked body of Ian Nottingham. Who knew the man had those kinds of moves hidden under his trench coat?
"I don't suppose you got the stripper's name, or the company that he works for, did you? There are several women panting to know. I gotta tell ya, if he looks even half as good as the rumors say, I'm probably going to book a delivery before leaving your office. I want to see him while he's still fresh." Po bobbled her eyebrows meaningfully. All that was left was for her to adopt a British accent and say 'Wink wink, nudge nudge. Say no more.'
"How could I? Dante all but dragged me into his office for a lecture about unprofessional behavior as soon as the music stopped. I thought I was never going to see him again, outside of my dreams." Pez sighed wistfully. She almost hadn't. If Irons hadn't seen Nottingham's beard puckering, if she hadn't forgotten her keys, and had to go back for them, she'd still be clueless. There was no way Ian would have willingly confessed to his role.
"I hear a 'but' in that last sentence." Vicki dragged Pezzini's attention back to the present.
"But, and this part is not for public consumption, the stripper turned out to be someone close to Mr. Irons." Sara was cut off as Vicki started to laugh.
"Oh, let me guess. The tall, dark, and studly Mr. Nottingham, right?" Just thinking about Sara's face when she found out was enough to send Po off again.
"How did you? Oh never mind. Yes, it was Nottingham." Sara rolled her eyes as Vicki bounced in the wooden chair, clearly pleased at having guessed correctly.
"So, when are you two going out again?" Po asked once she got over her fit of the giggles. It was hard to keep a straight face; her imagination kept giving her such lovely visuals of Sara with her jaw on the floor.
"Uhmm, he didn't exactly have a chance to ask," Sara shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Your fingers aren't broke, call Nottingham, and ask him out." Vicki said firmly. It would be just like Pez to blow this. She always was a wuss where relationships were concerned. If the guy didn't chase Sara like crazy, she thought he wasn't really interested. Too bad the department shrink was such a joke, or Po might suggest that Pezzini take some couch time and deal with her self-worth issues.
"Ask him out to do what?" Sara shot back. If Vicki had some brilliant plan, she was ready to hear it.
The idea had been on Sara's mind since her drive back from the mansion last night, she just couldn't think of anything. Working for the man who owned most of New York, Nottingham had been exposed to every cultural landmark in the city. He had no doubt eaten at restaurants that Sara couldn't afford a glass of water from.
The movie idea was right out, Sara didn't think her nerves were good enough to sit next to Ian for two hours in the dark. Especially when one takes into consideration how small the seats were. His leg would be pressed against hers the entire time and his arm on the armrest would be just below her breast. Oh no, that was so not an option. She'd end up jumping him like some oversexed teenager.
"Since he moves so well, how about clubbing in the Village?" Vicki plastered an innocent look on her face.
"No."
"Your place, for a night of wild sex?"
"Vicki Po! Not for a first date!"
"That's not what I heard about you."
"You know, I seem to remember a certain Christmas Party."
"Touché. Bungee jumping from Manhattan Bridge?"
"No. I don't even think that's legal."
"It's not. Since when has that mattered?"
"Since I am an officer of the law, sworn to abide by and uphold said law."
"You are no fun at all. Oh, I know. How about taking him to that new tango club that got those rave reviews in the Village Voice?"
"N-" Sara stopped mid-rejection and thought about it. This idea had merit. It was new, so he probably hadn't been there, it was classy enough she shouldn't run into her coworkers, and as long as she didn't order too many drinks from the bar, affordable. Best of all, it was something she'd always wanted to learn, but never had the opportunity.
"Well, do we have a winner?" Vicki asked after several moments of silence. She had never been particularly patient, especially when it was somebody else's love life being organized.
"Yes, yes we do. Now go out there and brave the lions. While they're picking your brain I should have a few minutes of peace and quiet, so I can call Nottingham. Remember, it was a mix-up at the delivery service and I don't know who it was." Sara made a shooing gesture with one hand while reaching for her cell phone with the other.
Vicki mock-saluted, winked, and sauntered out the door. Sara watched her go with a grin, shaking her head as the poor woman was mobbed. She turned toward the window, not wanting to witness the carnage.
Pez surfed down her phone's memory to the number she'd saved under the name Morpheus, since the first time Nottingham had called he'd asked if she'd had any dreams lately. It was the best she could come up with, since Sara was too smart to leave the name of an assassin on a department issued phone.
Or would that be too paranoid? Was it even possible for a cop to achieve such a state? Sara mused as she listened to the phone ring.
"Hey Nottingham," Sara began, consciously echoing that old conversation, her tone flirty.
"Hey Sara," Nottingham sounded surprised, but pleased.
"I was just wondering, what are you doing tonight?"
"The same thing I do every night, Sara."
"Try to take over the world?" Sara couldn't quite get the whole question out before the laughter began.
"Excuse me?" Nottingham was confused and slightly offended.
"Sorry, I guess you've never watched 'Pinky and the Brain'." Sara shook her head, slightly disgusted with herself. Of course Nottingham hadn't watched the show; it was a cartoon. The phrasing had been coincidental, not deliberate. She really needed to stop hanging out with Jake. Rookie partner in need of guidance or not, he was having a detrimental effect on her television habits.
"No, I have not. What can I do for you?" Ian made a mental note to find this program. If Lady Sara thought it worthwhile, he would see it for himself.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me. There's a new tango bar that just opened up, I'd like to check it out." Sara found that she was holding her breath waiting for Nottingham's reply.
"The Marimba? I would be honored." Ian finally replied through his sense of shock. He had not expected to hear from Sara so soon, and to have her deliberately seeking his company for a date! A date that, by virtue of where they were going, he would be required to spend holding her in his arms. Nottingham would pinch himself to see if he was truly awake, but this was one dream he didn't want to end.
"Great! Can you pick me up? The Buell is hard on party clothes."
"Certainly. What time should I call on you?"
"They give free lessons to the early birds, so swing by the apartment around seven."
"I shall. Thank you for inviting me."
"Thank you for accepting." Sara hung up, giddy with relief. She had half expected Nottingham to shoot her down. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to wear, find a way to cut out of work early, and somehow get through the day without killing Jake, who was already late.
If Jake had a date last night with even a quarter of the women who sent him goodies, he was probably lying somewhere, to dehydrated to pick up the phone. Sara had a good chuckle imagining him a withered husk as she opened the first file on her desk. She tried to read it, she really did, but visions of being swept around the dance floor in Ian's arms kept distracting her. By the time Jake did arrive, over an hour later, Sara was still on that first page.