Chapter 5
Two weeks had passed as well as several dates. Today was waiting another date, a lunch date this time. Chris had come to The Barn to meet Dutch for his lunch break. But Dutch was a little behind, and she had been waiting for him for ten minutes, tapping her foot on the cool, dirty tile floor.
Each time he walked past the glass door, Vic noticed Chris sitting in the waiting room, the bruise on her jaw just as dark as it had been two weeks earlier, though the lump had subsided somewhat. About the fifth time he noticed her still waiting, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Dutch hurriedly trying to shuffle some paperwork into alphabetical order.
Grinning at himself with the thought of tormenting Dutch just a little more than usual, Vic opened the door and walked out into the waiting room. "Hey Crystal," he said in a fairly friendly tone. "You waiting for Dutch Boy I assume?"
Her eyes flickered up at him briefly. "Yeah."
"How long have you been waiting? It seems like you've been out here for quite a while."
"Ten minutes," she said, watching her toe tap up and down against the tile. "Not as long as you would like to think."
"Hey," Vic said, sitting down beside her. "I'm just trying to be friendly. I get the feeling you don't like me much."
"Really?" Chris said, lifting her eyes to meet his. "I guess it's not as blatantly obvious as I had intended it to be."
"Well, I'm sorry for some of the things I said before. They were uncalled for," he said, sounding sincere. "I may hate Wagenbach, but that doesn't me you and I can't co-exist."
"I wasn't really planning on being around enough for us to have to," Chris said after a moment, sounding slightly exasperated.
"How's your jaw?" Vic asked, changing the subject.
"Sore."
"What about that wrist of yours?" His eyes shifted down to her exposed wrist, where the bruise was fading nicely.
"Pretty good," she said, fingering the remaining darkness about her wrist. She let a moment of quiet pass before saying softly, "Sorry for being a bitch. I guess you're not as bad as I thought you were."
"I gave you reason to dislike me, so you don't have to say sorry." He grinned. "So you're dating Dutch, huh?" She just nodded, not looking at Vic. She seemed to have become much shyer in the past few moments, and was avoiding eye contact. "What drove you to that?" He kept his voice light, joking, while underneath the tone the question was all too cynical and real.
Not hearing the subliminal tones in Vic's voice, Chris smiled a little, and leaned back into her chair. But she didn't say anything, just kept quiet and a little withdrawn.
Leaning forward a little, Vic touched Chris's knee, waiting for her to turn her eyes to him.
Her eyes flashed to Vic's fingers, lingering lightly on her knee. They lay there steadily for a few moment before she turned her eyes up to meet his cool, icy blue ones.
"Seriously," he said with a small smile, "what drove you to that?" All jokes had fallen from his voice.
At that instant the door flew open and Dutch entered the waiting room like a storm. "What the Hell?"
Vic turned now to Dutch, grinning, pleased with himself. He stood, and almost in the same movement so did Chris. Vic's movement was exactly what it seemed: a response to an unspoken challenge. Chris's jump to her feet was a defensive one, a motion that said "I don't need you to protect me."
"I was just talking with your girl here," Vic said with a grin, brushing roughly by and through the doors as he was buzzed in.
Dutch watched him go, dripping with contempt that could not have been more obvious.
"Dutch," Chris said, taking a step forward as he turned back to her. "I don't know what he was doing, but can we just go and forget about it?"
Sighing heavily, Dutch pulled himself as tall as he could. He seemed to be pushing his outrage at Vic from him as he moved. "All right," he said after a moment. "Shall we go?" He asked as he motioned to the door.
Claudette had seen Dutch walking to the door, getting ready to cut out for an hour or so, then speed up and crash through the door. Only moments later she saw Vic come through the door with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.
"What did you do now?" She asked, her voice a little vicious.
"I reminded Dutch Boy that my dick is bigger than his," Vic said laughingly as he passed her desk.
Claudette just watched him go, thinking it better to keep quiet for now than to get in his face for something she could nothing about. But she was watching him, keeping a close eye for the extracurricular activities she was positive he participated in on a regular basis.
He couldn't avoid the spotlight forever. Sooner or later someone was going to catch him red handed and then everyone would know that he was dirty.
Dutch hit his horn as he passed a man who was getting out of his sloppily parked car. The man responded by letting his middle finger fly, but Dutch didn't notice.
Chris, however, was waving apologetically. "Don't do that," she said.
"What?" Dutch asked. "The guy was in two parking spaces."
"So let the traffic cops take care of it," Chris said, looking at him. "But I don't remember anything in the driving manual saying it was OK to honk at people. Even if you are a cop."
"Hey, can I see your back seat driver's license?" Dutch asked, smiling as he looked over to her.
With a grin, she reached over and tapped the badge hanging on Dutch's hip. "I'm just saying, don't use this as an excuse to do whatever."
"You're trying to whip me," Dutch replied. "It has nothing to so with the shield, or the fact that I like to honk at people who suck at driving."
"So we're at a place where I can whip you?" Chris asked, relaxing into the car's comfortable passenger seat.
"Well, you're trying, so I guess so."
"Does that mean I'm your girlfriend?" Chris asked teasingly, reaching over and poking him in the arm like a child trying to irritate her sibling. "Huh?" She poked him again, smiling.
"Stop it," Dutch growled, swatting at her. "And yeah. That's kinda what I was thinking." He glanced at her, seizing the steering wheel firmly with both hands.
Grinning like a flirtatious teen girl, Chris looked out the window, curling her legs up on the seat. "Cool," she murmured. "And to think that three weeks ago I wanted to kill you."
Dutch grinned, pulling over by the curb in front of a café. "Is this it?" He asked, looking out at the fancy little coffeehouse.
"Yes," Chris said, looking out at it as well. "This is my new place of work." Her voice held a certain pride in that statement. It was much better than the broken down coffee shack she had been working in before, and she made three dollars an hour more.
"This is nice," Dutch said, getting out and locking the car door behind him.
"I know it is," Chris said with a smile, imitating him and jumping out of the car. "I love it. And most of the people are really nice, and my boss likes me."
"Well," Dutch said, "let's see the inside." He wrapped his arm around her waist as they headed towards the door.
Inside the lights were dim and relaxing, and the place smelled sweet and powerfully of coffee grounds. There were several people relaxing at the small round tables, reading and sipping coffee or tea. The paintings on the walls were gorgeous modern pieces by poor artists who lived in the area. There were more than one might think, and unfortunately many of them were arrested several times for illegal use of drugs such as marijuana and shrooms.
"This is very nice," Dutch said, looking around. "Much better than most places around here."
"It really is," Chris agreed. "And we hardly ever get any trouble." She paused and looked towards the counter. "Sit down. I'll get some muffins or something."
"All right."
"Do you want some coffee?"
"Yes, please," Dutch said as h e pulled up a chair.
When the lunch date was over, which was about ten minutes later, Dutch had to leave Chris at the coffeehouse because her shift was starting.
"I'll see you tonight," Dutch said at the door.
"OK," Chris said with a nod. "Should I just come over?"
"Yeah," Dutch said. "If I'm not there just let yourself in." He bent down to her, hid lips brushing hers in a brief, soft kiss. "Bye," he said before vanishing out the door.
Chris couldn't help the smile that broke over her face as she watched him through the window until his car was out of sight.
"Chris," cooed a coworker, walking up beside her. "Was that your boyfriend?" She asked, giggling a little.
"Yeah," Chris said with a smile. "But that, my friend, is none of your business."
