Leather and Lace
By: Maidens of Konan
(Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer. We do claim the rights to the original ideas and characters out of the realm of canon FY. Please do not borrow them without written permission. Violators will be towed away by Nuriko and pummeled to a pulp. )
Chapter rating : PG-13 for a bit of foul language from Officer Dante and co.
Chapter Two
The drive to work was easy, and a favorite tune was playing on his car stereo, but Dante found himself unable to pay attention and sing along like he normally did. A highly charged sense of anticipation had taken him over, the kind of feeling that usually meant that for better or worse, this day was going to be a memorable one.
The feeling had intensified when he walked into the precinct and was greeted by the dispatcher telling him his boss wanted to see him right away.
When the captain of his precinct, John Connery, beckoned to him from his private office and closed the door upon his entrance, Dante knew that something was definitely amiss. In spite of that, not even the worst scenarios that flew through his mind prepared him for the bombshell that followed his leader's curt invitation to sit down.
"I'll cut to the chase, Tager. You're on city patrol until further notice."
"What the hell?" Dante exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Get some rookie to fill in if you're short handed! I got follow ups to do on the Sukinami case-"
The Captain interrupted him by walking over and thrusting a garment bag into his arms, saying curtly, "We're not short. You're being reassigned."
Dante stared at the uniform beneath the clear bag as if it contained a live cobra. "Tell me you're jokin'!"
"I'm afraid not. It's yours."
"I was hired for the fuckin' plainclothes unit, dammit! What the hell's goin' on?"
Connery sighed heavily while running a hand over his military short, iron gray hair. He hated like hell to lose a good cop like Dante Tager at such a crucial time in the investigation, but orders were orders and he had to follow them no matter how asinine he found the motivation behind them to be. "It seems you stepped on too many toes on your last outing to the company. Only took one phone call from the head honcho to city hall to get you get reassigned. The order came down from the commissioner himself."
Dante's savage grin exposed the tilted eyeteeth that had quickly earned him the nickname 'Fang Boy' amongst his coworkers. "Ha! Then my hunch was right! Someone's tryin' like hell to keep Sukinami out of reach!"
"I'd say so." The Captain agreed. "But that isn't going to make any difference to-"
"Sukinami's assistant makes excuses for him whenever I've called." Dante interrupted. "My text and email messages are blocked. Then finally, when I decide to take the bull by the horns and go there in person, all I get to see is some public relations talking head spewing corporate BS- don't ya see, Boss? He's gotta have some kinda idea or access to what's goin' down, or the powers that be wouldn't be tryin' to get me off his back! We're gettin' close, we can't ditch this now!"
The captain reseated himself behind his desk, which as usual, was littered with folders and printouts. As he leaned back in his chair, his ice blue eyes surveyed the brash but courageous young man who had more than earned his and his men's respect in the two years since joining the precinct. "You're probably right, but it appears the commissioner has other ideas about it." He stated bleakly. "My hands are tied. I have to follow his orders and put you on the patrol unit. That means no more working on the Sukinami case or any others until further notice."
"The Commish doesn't give a damn if twelve months' work is flushed down the crapper?"
"Apparently not."
"Hell's Bells, you have just as much time into this case as I have, John! It's not fair!"
"As a wise person once said, life isn't always fair." A scowl etched deep lines in Connery's tanned face. "It reeks of underhandedness, but there's nothing to be done but comply, at least until... "
Dante's dour expression brightened as the older man hesitated. "You have a plan to get me outta this?"
"Let's just say I've been around a long enough to witness a few things that the higher ups would rather forget about, and that I use that knowledge for the greater good of my precinct and the community." Connery's rasping chuckle held no humor. "The commissioner practically admitted to me in a personal memo that taking you off the case is illogical and idiotic, which is a sure sign that the order was made under political duress. Well, fuck that! The spineless weasel is pulling rank for his own profit, and I have no intentions of letting his piss ant political aspirations to screw up the promising career of the finest detective I've ever had work for me!"
Dante's face reddened at the rare compliment from the Captain. "Gee, Boss...I don't know what to say..."
"Then keep your yap shut!" Connery retorted. "You can help me out by going along with the traffic duty assignment while I call in a couple of favors to get you back where you belong." The older man shook his head as Dante started to thank him. "Not necessary. I'm doing this to save my ass as well as yours, but make sure you keep quiet about it with the others. The less any of you know about what I'm doing on this, the better."
The young detective nodded his head vigorously. "I gotcha! Don't ask. Not a word to the others. Plausible deniability!" He recited. "I know you don't wanna hear it, Captain…but thanks. it means a helluva lot that you're willin' to go to bat for me. There's gotta be something I can do in return!"
"That's not nec-"
"Name a favor or I'll name it for ya!"
Connery scowled. "It'd be like you to badger the hell out of me if I didn't. Fine, get me a ticket to a Broncos' game if it works out."
"One for you and one for Elise. Lower deck, fifty yard line." Dante countered.
"You strike a hard bargain, Fang Boy."
"Damn right I do. Deal?"
"Yeah."
Although not openly smiling, Connery's eyes held a twinkle as the two men shook hands across the desk. "Better get going- your shift starts in twenty minutes."
The redhead tossed off a casual salute and spun on his heel; as he did so, the silver and turquoise dangles in his ears caught the light. The Captain's eyes narrowed as they flew from the flashy earrings to the long tendrils of hair brushing the tops of the detective's broad shoulders.
"Hold up, Tager!" He barked.
Dante stopped in mid-stride and slowly turned to face his leader.
"Do something about the hippy-dippy hair and ditch the earrings- they're not regulation for patrol." The older man ordered. "And neither are necklaces, by the way," he added, spotting a matching glint of turquoise and silver peeking out from under the neckline of the young man's shirt. "It won't help your case if you get cited for uniform violations on your first day of reassignment."
Dante folded his arms across his chest, looking mutinous. "What's the big deal? We both know it's gonna be a temporary gig!"
"It's code, and temporary or not, I don't make exceptions for hot-shot detectives!" Connery growled, then picked up his pen and started working on his paperwork with feigned diligence. Perhaps if he avoided eye contact, he'd avoid provoking one of the infamous Connery-Tager shouting matches that provided fodder for wagering amongst the department in regards to who would be the winner by the end of the day. "That's all. You're dismissed!" He prompted, feeling heat from an intense glare burning into the top of his bent head. Sighing mentally, he waited for the inevitable.
"I'm willin' to ditch the jewelry for ya, Boss, but there's no way I'm cuttin' my hair for a temporary assignment!" Dante declared hotly. "No way in hell!"
Connery threw down his pen in exasperation.
"Fine! You don't have to cut it!" He bellowed. "But that damn braid of yours better be tucked out of sight at inspection or I'll fucking hack it off with my penknife right then and there! Are we clear on that, Sergeant?"
"Totally clear, sir!"
"Good! Now haul ass, I have work to do!"
"Yes sir! Thank you sir!"
With his new uniform slung over his arm and a triumphant grin on his face, Dante emerged from the office into the outer room to the accompaniment of catcalls and whistles from his fellow detectives. Connery got up to shut the door, shaking his head at the young man's vulgar but hilarious responses to the merciless ribbing. Judging by the volume and severity of the teasing, it was obvious Dante's peers also held the redhead in the highest esteem.
The kid had proven time and again since his arrival that he was a natural leader, and had the heart, guts and smarts to become a top- notch investigator. A promising future in law enforcement lay ahead of Dante if he was given a fair shake and half a chance- and he was the one who was going to help make that happen.
With a hardened resolve, John Connery pulled out his cell phone and began to make calls that would hopefully get his best detective back on the job.
Fifteen minutes after his meeting with his boss, an impeccably uniformed Dante strolled through the station, oblivious to the sympathetic smirks of his male co-workers and the blatantly admiring stares of the female ones. He had to admit the dress shirt, tie, and close- fitting breeches weren't as uncomfortable as they thought they'd be. The shoes were more like sneakers, and he also liked that he'd been issued a pair of the cool looking, expensive Ray Bans he had always secretly coveted. They almost made up for the jewelry that he'd been forced to stash away in his locker and his braid having to be tucked under his shirt collar.
Whistling a cheerful sounding tune, he headed out the back of the station and into the parking lot that held the marked squad cars. His displeasure with the task that lay ahead had lightened considerably when he realized that he'd have the chance to actually use the trademark siren and flashing red lights that he had dreamed of playing with as a little boy. Unfortunately, the work of a sergeant detective rarely called for the use of such things, and in Dante's particular case, it never had. He had gone from walking a beat in his rookie year to a plainclothes unit the next without ever having driven an honest-to-god, fully loaded police car.
He found his assigned vehicle, a powerful looking sedan marked with the number seven, and got in, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying thunk of reinforced steel against reinforced steel. After fastening his seat belt, he familiarized himself with the layout of the dash and the two way radio, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and Dante tapped the accelerator experimentally, a grin spreading across his face at hearing the unmistakable sound of specially added horsepower.
Satisfied that all was well, he carefully backed the car out of its assigned spot and then, in a sudden fit of pique, proceeded to burn rubber out of the parking lot. Once out on the street, however, he drove sedately. Like it or not, he was wearing a uniform and had to set a good example for his fellow drivers. After several uneventful passes around the residential area near the station, he headed for the freeway with hopes that the change of venue would produce an opportunity for him to test the engine and the lights.
It didn't take long for his wish to be granted. As he reached the end of the entrance ramp, a scarlet LeBaron convertible bore down on him, looming closer and closer in his rear view mirror without any appearance of slowing or moving over a lane to let him merge into traffic. With a loud curse, he prepared to take to the shoulder to avoid a collision, then desisted at the last second when the driver abruptly changed lanes and zoomed by him as if he were standing still.
Considering that by now he was now going almost ten miles an hour over the posted speed limit himself, that was quite a feat.
Dante mentally shook his head at the foolhardy cheek of the driver, who, judging by the brief glimpse he had gotten as she'd passed him, appeared to be young and female.
"All right, lady! If ya want a ticket that badly, I'll be more'n happy to oblige ya!"
As soon as she saw the flashing lights looming in her rear view mirror, Miaka automatically changed lanes to allow the policeman to go by her. To her horror, the squad car didn't pass her at all but moved in directly behind her, making it obvious that she was the intended target. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she glanced down at the speedometer…and groaned loudly at what she saw. Doing eighty-five miles per hour in a sixty-five mile per hour zone…what had she been thinking? And now it was going to cost her in time as well as money!
Glancing up in her rear view mirror, she could see the officer making broad gestures for her to pull off onto the wide shoulder of the freeway. She complied immediately, not wanting to make a bad situation worse.
Her heart was pounding, but strangely, not out of fright. Despite her dismay and the overall stress of the situation, she was determined to make the best of things as she watched the policeman pulling in behind her car.
"It's not a time to make excuses," she murmured aloud, "I'll be courteous, I'll apologize, accept the ticket, and be on my way."
Dante shifted the squad car into park and switched off the engine. Following his checklist, he dutifully ran a license number check, which came back negative on all counts, indicating a first offense.
He debated with himself about calling in backup for the stop, and then decided against it. From what he could tell from this vantage point, it was a routine stop- some young twit with a lead foot and a bad-ass attitude. Hopefully a stern lecture about not tempting fate and a hefty fine would teach her to ease up on the accelerator.
After grabbing his ticket book off the dashboard, he opened the door of his vehicle and got out, taking a moment to slap the requisite patrolman's hat on his head, and to check that his braid was still safely tucked away under his shirt collar. He pushed the door shut, then moved toward the car in front of him with an easy stride that belied the fact that he was intently scanning the person inside the vehicle for any sign of hostile intent.
Everything seemed to be in order. He could see the young woman had both hands on the steering wheel and her head was tilted back against her seat so that her eyes were raised to the heavens. She appeared to be talking to herself.
Probably cussin' a blue streak because she got busted! Dante thought in grim amusement. What is it with these chicks in zippy sports cars? Do they think they're invincible or what?
He was alongside the driver's window now, and he tapped on the darkened glass, showed his official ID to the female driver inside the vehicle, then put it away while making motions for the window to be lowered. As she immediately obeyed his directive, he bent down to look inside the car, fully prepared to give its lone occupant the dressing down she deserved and the paper work necessary to considerably lighten her pocketbook.
That was the plan until the driver's window was lowered.
Thickly lashed, dark green eyes, whose shape proclaimed Asian heritage peeked at him from under a sexily tousled mass of auburn hair. A very feminine nose and lush looking, kissable lips followed those lovely and intriguing features, set perfectly within a upturned, heart-shaped face.
The lecture he'd been about to bestow was gone, banished by the feeling of looking straight into a fantasy. The vision gave him a tentative smile, and another jolt, this time of recognition, zinged through him. Somehow, somewhere, he'd seen that smile before.
But where?
He shut his gaping mouth and racked his brain, but a quick search of his social memory banks brought nothing to mind- no friend of a friend, no arranged dates. It hadn't been a party or a bar or a club where he'd seen her, he was absolutely certain he'd have remembered meeting a hot babe like this, no matter where or when or how drunk he might have been at the time, and doubly sure he'd have made her acquaintance.
His gaze dropped to her bared shoulders, and he gave silent thanks for the sunglasses that allowed him that liberty, and which hid the fact that his eyes were most likely bugging out. Better men than he wouldn't have failed to notice how the bodice of a strapless purple sundress clung to the curves of two perfect breasts and hugged the contours of a trim waist. A full skirt covered the rest of her anatomy, but somehow he was sure that her hips and backside were of the nicely rounded variety, and that her legs would be lithe, long, and as sweetly curved as the rest of her.
If he'd been a cartoon wolf, his heart would have been thumping out of his chest, and his tongue would have been hanging down to his knees.
It dawned on him that the entire time he'd been staring at her, she'd been politely waiting for him to speak.
Just his damn luck that he had a job to do.
"Mornin', ma'am." He spoke gruffly, trying to cover for his loss of cool. "I need to see your license and registration."
"Good morning, Officer." She responded in a sweet, clear voice that carried a more than a hint of an accent as she handed over the requested documents. "Here are the required papers."
"Thanks." Dante said, then scrutinized them all with an intent that he admitted to himself was more personal than professional. Among her documentation was a passport, a work/study visa, and paperwork showing that she had applied for a driver's license. Her present residence was in Colorado Springs. This was good.
There was no marital status given.
"Everything looks fine. You can have these back...er..." he pretended to glance at her license. "Mrs. Yuuki?"
"It's Miss Yuuki." She corrected with gratifying speed. "And thank you."
Dante suppressed an unreasonable sense of jubilation as he placed the papers in her outstretched hand. After all, gorgeous or not, she had still broken the law.
"Well all right, Miss Yuuki." He couldn't help but add extra emphasis to the title. "Now that the preliminaries are over, would you mind tellin' me where the fire is?"
"Fire?" Her brow wrinkled. "What fire?"
"That's what I'm askin', ma'am."
"I-I'm afraid I don't understand. Forgive my ignorance."
Dante was torn between wanting to apologize for and laughing at the epic failure of his sarcasm. Her eyes held anxiety and genuine bewilderment. As excellent as her English was, it obviously had limits. "Nothing to forgive, and you're not ignorant. I was just giving you cra-um, I mean, I was just makin' a joke about your speed." He said, not caring if he sounded warmer and more conversational than he should have done considering the circumstances. "Ya see, I clocked you doing in excess of eighty miles an hour. And to top it off, ya cut me off in changing lanes back by the ramp."
"Ohhh nooo..." Her eyes and voice held total chagrin. "That's awful! I'm awful! I'm so sorry!"
"You should be." He smiled to take the sting out of the words, fully exposing the tilted canines that resembled fangs. "Anyway, what I meant by asking where the fire is was that anyone driving a car in that big of a hurry better be a firefighter, a paramedic, or some kind of... a..."
He subsided into perplexed silence at seeing his detainee was openly staring at his mouth. He stared back, fighting the urge to touch his face and check his teeth for food particles. Why was she looking at him like that?
"Tasuki." She murmured.
He couldn't tell if it awe, hope or tenderness he saw in her gaze. Maybe all three? Was this a good thing? And who or what the hell was a 'Tasuki'?
"Miss Yuuki?" He prodded gently. "Are ya feelin' all right?"
"Oh yes, sorry! I'm fine!" The strange light was still in her eyes, and the slight nod of her head was an afterthought.
He waited, but when no explanation was forthcoming, Dante folded his arms and regarded the woman in front of him with reluctant suspicion. Iit would stand to reason, with his current run of bad luck, that this sweet and charming hottie would turn out to be a substance abuser or a fruitcake. And yet this strong connection he was feeling to her, and the sense that here was someone who deserved his protection and everything else that was in his power to give, said otherwise. It was a feeling that was way outside his scope of experience to date...
Maybe she felt something too. Definitely a lot of emotion in that expressive face, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. She obviously needed to regain her composure before she could explain anything. He didn't know what he'd do if she started to cry...
She didn't, much to his relief.
"I must apologize again, Officer," she murmured, with a little bow of her head, "for my rudeness in staring at you so boldly."
Stare all you want, sweetheart! Dante thought, while waving a dismissive hand. "That's okay."
"No it isn't! There is a reason for it...not that it would be of any interest to you-"
He broke in. "If you don't mind, I would like to know, just because...you kinda looked like you're seein' a ghost!"
"For a minute, I thought that I was!" Her smile was a touch mournful. "You see, you have a very strong resemblance to an old and dear friend of mine!"
Not a nut job, thank God. Just an old friend. "Well, I've never been told I look like anyone else, but I've heard that everybody's got a twin somewhere..."
"It must be true, the, because your smile is exactly like his! it's been a very long time since I've seen him, so I'm afraid it was a bit of a shock!"
He had to ask. "So how long has it been? And where is he?"
"I last saw him..." she hesitated, as if doing some calculating, "...about ten years ago, when I was visiting...um, a very remote part of China."
Dante's jaw dropped. "My twin is in China?"
She giggled a little at his astonishment. "Yes! Which reminds me, I need to answer the question you asked me earlier. I'm not associated with any sort of emergency organization. Please write up whatever amount you think I should pay for going too fast."
"What?" Dante said, distracted from the subject of his Chinese look-alike. "You want me to write you a ticket?"
She shrugged. "I was wrong. I know that policemen have quotas to make, and it's the least I can do to make up for my rudeness in cutting you off."
She's dead serious, Dante thought. It's her first offense. She was wrong, but what it could it hurt to let her off the hook with a warning, just this once?
"Look, you've never gotten one of these bad boys before, have ya?" He asked, holding up the citation book. When she inclined her head in silent affirmation, he continued. "Well let me say that a speeding ticket in these parts is pricey! You should at least try to give me a reason not to give ya one." Okay, that was kind of ridiculous. But he'd listen to sob stories and excuses from her if it meant he'd be in her company that much longer. "What I'm sayin' is that I do get some discretion in handing these out, and I can take any mitigating circumstances into consideration."
There, that sounded better.
She still shook her head. "Thank you, but I don't think that being late for a breakfast date with my boyfriend qualifies as a legitimate excuse for speeding."
Of course he wasn't surprised to hear there was a boyfriend. But that lack of surprise didn't keep him from feeling as if he'd just had a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. "It might not qualify, but again, it's your first offense, so I'll just-"
She interrupted. "I can't let you do that! I should pay just like everyone else does."
Dante knew his stare was close to being a glare. It was stupid, but he was actually getting mad that she wouldn't let him help her. Was she that scrupulous, or was she just that stubborn? Probably both, but he had no right to find out. And that pissed him off even more!
"Okay, suit yourself!" He said brusquely. "I was tryin' to be nice an' give ya a break, but if ya want a ticket, it's no skin off my nose!"
She was no longer meeting his gaze. Her profile was downcast, and the hand that brushed back her hair to curl around one delicately rounded ear was a bit unsteady. "I understand. And I do appreciate your offer."
Dante wanted to smack himself upside the head. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. She'd been nothing but honest and cooperative, and he was taking his disappointment out on her. Even if he was feeling cheated and frustrated, there was no cause to be a jerk.
Damn it! Why did she have to have a boyfriend?
And why did she have to look so crestfallen and disappointed in him?
"Women really don't play fair." He mumbled.
"I'm really sorry," she said, "but I am not trying to cheat you."
Had he said that out loud? Oh great, that was all he needed, having her thinking he was some kind of misogynist! "No, you are not! And I'm sorry," he said. "I have a bad habit of talkin' out loud to myself when I shouldn't!"
"I do that too." She confessed, looking sideways at him.
He decided to risk some teasing. "Yeah, I know. I could see you after I pulled you over...but don't tell me what you were sayin' about me!"
It was amazing how much her cute little laugh improved his disposition and his outlook on the situation. Not ready to give up- they're not engaged, are they? Suppose I better find out if they are before I make an even bigger ass of myself.
He flipped open his ticket book, reached for a pen, and began to fill out the ticket, writing as slowly as possible as a blatant delay tactic. After finishing the citation, he carefully detached it from his notebook and held it and her license out to her in a way that would make her use her left hand to grab them. The ploy worked perfectly. As she took the offered items, his heart leapt at seeing the state of her left hand.
No rings. Absolutely no tan line indication that she ever had worn one. Though his expression remained impassive, inwardly Dante was grinning from ear to ear.
No woman would forget to put on a diamond for a date, right? And if it were a cemented relationship, she wouldn't be ringless.
Or, for that matter, thinking about some other special guy from her past-a guy that she just said resembled him. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing if it gave him some leverage.
So. He had her name, phone number and an address for an apartment complex that he knew was only a few blocks from the station. It wouldn't be hard to arrange an 'accidental' meeting and ask her out for dinner or to a movie. He could say goodbye for now knowing he'd definitely be finding and seeing her again.
Unless, of course, she got in an accident due to reckless or inattentive driving.
The thought of it was unbearable.
"There's one more thing, Miss Miaka Yuuki," his tongue lingered over the syllables of a name that seemed to flow over his lips as easily as cream from a pitcher, "am I pronouncing that correctly?"
"Oh yes! It was perfect!"
Even without the way she was smiling at him, her tone said that he'd scored some major points. Emboldened by the encouragement, Dante took a deep breath and made the decision to press onward. Yeah, it was probably insane to think he had a chance, given the boyfriend. But what the hell, he hadn't gotten this far by sticking to the rules! What he was about to say now was straddling the boundary between professional and not, but he was willing to breach that to let this woman know that he cared and wanted to see her again.
He crouched down so that he was on a level with bewitching green eyes.
"Miss Miaka, I would like to ask you for a personal favor." He said.
His seriousness took the smile from her face. "Of course," she said, now looking as solemn as he, "what is it?"
"I want ya to swear to me that you'll keep to the speed limit, even if you're late! It concerns me...and even ticks me off to hear that you were in a rush because the guy you're with wouldn't understand that it's worth waiting a few extra minutes for ya to arrive safely for a date! If he can't do that, then the moron doesn't deserve to be with ya! It only takes a couple seconds to lose control of a car at high speed, and...well, let's just say I'd be pretty upset if the next time I saw ya, your pretty face was covered by a sheet!"
For a long, belly twisting, breath holding moment she said nothing.
Then she nodded.
"I swear to you, Officer," she said, "that I will pay very close attention to the road and always keep to the posted speed limits from now on!"
And he could breathe again.
"No matter what?" He pressed, holding her gaze.
She nodded more emphatically. "Yes! No matter what!"
Seeing the warmth in her eyes and her smile, which said she welcomed his concern, he had no doubts that she would keep her word. Satisfaction and relief had him unbending enough to give her a smile in return. "Good. Thank you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you!" She responded earnestly. "You're wonderful!"
He actually felt a blush coming on. "I wouldn't go that far."
"I would! It matters to me that you truly care about protecting a stranger's life!"
The passionate way she spoke had his heart jumping against his chest. "But you're not a stranger," he said, "I know who you are!"
He straightened to his full height as she stared at him with an open mouth and huge eyes. A strange sort of energy was flowingr between them, crackling and pulsing with the power of unspoken emotion. For a moment, there seemed to be a faint aura surrounding her, crimson in hue...
Dante adjusted his sunglasses. Was he seeing things?
"You know me?" She asked, in a voice that had gone very quiet.
"Yes ma'am!" Diverted by the question, he tapped the ticket book in his hand. "I have your name, address and phone number logged right in here…" his finger moved to his temple, "…and in here."
She blinked and then laughed. The aura was now gone. Probably an effect created by the angle of sunlight bouncing off her rear view mirror, Dante thought with a mental shrug.
He was more interested in the fact that she was now giving him a smile that by his way of thinking, crossed the line from friendly to flirtatious.
"Since you know those things about me, may I ask you something, Officer?"
"Sure! Shoot me!"
Her gaze immediately went to his side arm, then met his with a worried look. "You want me to shoot you?"
He took a hasty step backwards. "No! That's just another expression-"
He stopped short at seeing her grin.
"I was only joking!" She said, her green eyes gleaming with mischief and gentle accusation. "You know, like you were with asking me about the fire."
"Yeah, okay. I guess deserve that." He acknowledged with a sheepish laugh. "So what can I answer for ya?"
"Well, it's a personal question."
She wants to get personal! Dante thought gleefully. But she was looking shy, and he was on duty, he'd better be careful in his reply.
"That's all right." He said, keeping his voice friendly but neutral. "What is it?"
She hesitated. A blush tinted her skin a becoming shade of pink. He couldn't suppress the thought that it would be nice to get the chance to bring out that hue in more intimate circumstances...
"I can't tell for certain, but would you happen to be a redhead?" She blurted, then put a hand to her mouth. "Please don't answer if I'm being way too forward!"
Asking about his hair color was considered too personal? Hell, all that mattered to him was that she wanted to know more about him! Maybe she had a thing for redheads? He could only hope that was the case!
"That's nothin'!" He assured her with a grin. "You could be even more forward than that, and I wouldn't mind!"
Before the potential inappropriateness of that assertion had a chance to sink in, he divested himself of his hat with a flourish.
"Here's your answer." He said. "See for yourself!"
To be continued…
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