Description: Dexter the handyman pays Rita a visit..or three. Meanwhile, Gary Phillips goes AWOL.
A/N: All feedback will be fed to the plot bunnies.

CHAPTER TWO

Over the years, Dexter had accumulated a wide range of tools for purposes that would have had most repairmen losing more than their licenses. He showed up at Rita's house with everything but the kitchen sink, which, he assumed, she would be providing.

"Hey Dexter," she cried with a wide smile when she opened the door.

"Hey… you," he replied. He followed her to the kitchen.

"Again, thank you very much. Can I get you something to drink before you get started?" she offered.

"Nope, thanks. I'm good."

"Alright. Then, I'm just going to leave you alone as you work. Let me know if you need absolutely anything."

How about a plumber?, he thought.

Dexter opened up the cabinet doors and snooped around. He unplugged the disposal and turned off its power source at the breaker box. Afraid to stick his hands in the mechanisms, he grabbed a pair of pliers and poked around for a problem. As he worked, he could hear her in the back talking with her children. As he listened more closely, it sounded like a girl. She must be talking to Astor. Ever since he'd found out that Rita had kids, he'd been…interested in meeting them. Not in a 'here little boy do you want some candy' way. Just…in a curious way. He liked being around kids. They were so much more appealing than their adult counterparts. Simpler. Happier. More innocent. All things Dexter had never been…even when he himself was child.

After about 15 minutes he discovered the problem—the mangled remains of a matchbox car were lodged in the blades. He gently removed them and cleaned out some residue and clogs that had built up over the last couple weeks. He reassembled the disposal, then he reconnected the power. Before he knew it, he was done. He packed up his tools, wiped up the rest of the water and debris and then checked to see if the sink was working—it was. He packed up his tools, stood up, brushed himself off and then…

Waited.

After a minute he contemplated just leaving, but thought Rita might consider that rude, and if it ever got back to Deb, he would never hear the end of it. Then he thought of going in the back and announcing he was done, but feared intruding into Rita's private space, seeing her half-dressed—or worse. He was mercifully spared from further deliberation when Rita suddenly appeared. She was considerably less cheery than before.

"You…you're done already?" she said, surprised.

"Yep," Dexter said.

"What was the problem?"

Would he rat out Cody? "You know, routine maintenance. These things get clogged over time."

"Wow," she said, clearly relieved, but still tired. "Weeks of suffering and you're in and out in forty-five minutes." Astor suddenly appeared behind her; she was whining.

"Mom I can't do it," she moaned. "It's too hard."

"Go back to your room, Astor, and work on your report. You aren't leaving until you're done and that's final."

"But it's not fair," she said as she turned to make the agonizing walk back.

"That's what you get when you wait until the last minute," Rita called behind her. She sighed heavily and picked up her checkbook off of the counter. "So what do I owe you?"

Dexter waved his hand. "Don't worry about it."

She shook her head. "No seriously, let me give you something."

"No," Dexter insisted. "I'll get it back from my sister somehow. She owes me one…or twenty," he joked.

Rita sighed, and then smiled bashfully. "Thank you," she said.

Dexter smiled as he walked towards the door…then paused.

"If you don't mind my asking, what is Astor's project about?"

"The red blood cell," Rita explained. "She's put it off, and put it off, and now that I'm back working I lose track of what their assignments are. The report is due when she goes back to school on Monday."

"I could," Dexter trailed off. "I could help her with it…if that's alright with you?"

Rita was hesitant. "No that's okay; you've done enough already. She has her computer and Wikipedia. She'll figure it out."

Dexter didn't want to take no for an answer. "Did Deb tell you? I'm a blood spatter analyst for the Miami-Dade PD. I know all there is to know about that red gooey stuff."

Rita was…puzzled. "You're not a maintenance man?"

"No," Dexter laughed. "I'm a tinkerer at best. I'm more of a scientist. Type. Guy."

"O…K?" Rita said, running her hand through her hair. "Well, then yeah. We would welcome the help, but, um, I think she's pretty much done for the night. It's like wrestling an alligator when she get's like this. Is there any chance you could come back before Monday?"

"I'll come by tomorrow," Dexter replied.

Rita shook her head. "I don't know how many ways I can say thank you."

"You don't have to really," he assured her, and he left out of the door. "See you tomorrow."

Five days had passed and Dexter still hadn't met up with the object of his obsession. He'd spent most evenings parked outside Gary Phillips' door and waiting, but Dexter had yet to find him there, even though the motel still had him listed as a guest. In the meantime, the station's investigation had only barely caught up to where Dexter's was a week ago, and LaGuerta's big announcement of the day was the "bombshell revelation" that the perp had a tattoo that said "Mad Hatter". Since Dexter already knew who Phillips was and where he lived, that information was a day late and a dollar short, to say the least.

Dexter was at the station writing up lab reports when Deb showed up in his office.

"My life was one long stretch of boring," she announced and dropped onto the edge of his desk.

He took the bait. "Was?"

"Until last night," she said, flashing all of her pearly whites. "I met somebody."

"On a Monday?" Dex asked. She nodded excitedly. "Give me the rundown," he said less excitedly.

"If you insist—gosh," Deb said sarcastically. "He's like six foot five or something crazy like that. He's from Albuquerque, of all places. He's a cop." Dex looked at her with a look that said "duh." "I know, I know, but there's more. He loves—get this—motocross."

Finally something of interest. "I didn't know you like motocross."

"I don't. I like guys who like motocross. Do you know how sexy they look in those helmets flying over sand dunes and rocky terrain? I'm getting wet just thinking about it."

"Number 86 on the list of things you never want to hear from your sister."

"Anyway, he's coming over to watch a movie tonight and I want you to come. I would like him to meet you. And for you to check him out and make sure he's not a creep or anything."

"Can't," Dexter said. He stood and rifled though his filing cabinet. "I'm going over Rita's tonight."

Deb jumped off the desk, her face the picture of gleeful shock. "You're still talking to Rita?"

Dex shrugged. "I guess you could put it that way."

She punched him in the shoulder. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Ow. Because it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? It's been a week. How many times have you been over?"

"I dunno," he said, taking his seat. "Three, four times."

Deb squealed with delight. "Dex has a girlfriend, Dex has a girlfriend."

"Actually I don't."

"Come on, Dex," she said. "Have you had sex yet?"

"No," Dexter said defensively. And hopefully never.

"That's OK. She's taking it slow—probably wants to wait until you meet her kids to see if you get creeped out or not."

"I've already met her kids. Which is why I'm going over there tonight."

"Huh?"

"I was fixing a short in the motor of Cody's toy car, when—"

"Wait—you're still fixing things?"

"Not tonight. Tonight I'm taking Astor and Cody on my boat. It came up in conversation that I had one and they started asking me about it so I told them I would take them for a ride."

"Just you and the kids?"

"I think Rita's coming too."

"You think Rita's coming too?" Deb scoffed. "Are you dating Rita or her children?"

"Are you asking me if I'm a pedophile?"

"No. I'm asking if you are as clueless as you sound."

"Look. Deb. Rita and I are…" He was about to say friends, but, did he have friends?

"You're what?" Deb said, the glint in her eye coming back. "Just friends?"

"Yeah."

"Does she ever twist her hair when you talk to her?"

Dex thought hard. "Maybe once or twice."

"Does she find ways to touch you?"

Dex searched desperately through his memories. He remembered them brushing when she offered him a rag to clean oil off his hands. "I guess," he answered.

"Is she just 'oh so thankful' every time you do something for her?"

This was a no brainer. "Yeah," he said.

"Oh. My. God." Deb exclaimed. "You are blowing it big time mister."

"What do you mean?"

"She's waiting for you to make a move. And you, dunce face, are dragging your damn feet."

Dex was…overwhelmed.

"I don't know," he said.

"Look," she walked towards him, grabbing both shoulders. "Listen to me: while you're taking her kids on frickin' field trips and fixing all their toys, she's somewhere dreaming of her knight in shining armor. Nut up and ask her out."

"You know I'm terrible at this, Deb," he sighed.

"Jesuscrist, Dex, are you, like, 16 years old? Here—Friday, Reggie and I are going to the carnival, and you and Rita are coming with us. It'll be a doubles thing. That'll give you a chance to ask her out on an actual date. No kids."

"OK, OK," Dexter said. The more he thought about it, the more he had to do this. He hadn't been on a date in months and hadn't had a girlfriend in almost a year. He was starting to hear murmurs around the station, and he had run out of ways to tell the mail girl to take a hike. He needed a girlfriend…now.

"OK, OK. I'll ask her out tonight." He paused. "I want to, actually."

"Awww," Deb teased. "Dex has a girlfriend; Dex has a girlfriend; Dex—"

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Yep," she answered, tossing her keys into the air and catching them with panache. "I have my fur handcuffs and booty shorts in my locker."

Dexter groaned as she left his office.

The boat ride had turned out to be a lot of fun. The crowds had cleared now that Spring Break was over, and in the middle of the week, the North Bay was all theirs. Dexter had brought along some Pop Rocks for the kids, stale bread for the birds and some tequila-flavored lollipops for him and Rita—worm and all. It had started like some educational nature trip, but by the end, he and Rita just relaxed at the helm, chatting about anything that crossed their minds, while the kids ran around the boat. They all ended up back at her house just as the sun was beginning to set.

"What do you say kids?" Rita reminded them as they tumbled out of the car.

"Thank you, Dexter," they sang in unison as they chased each other in the yard.

"You're welcome."

"Go wash up and get ready for dinner," Rita said. They bolted for the house.

"You're running behind schedule," Dex said apologetically. "I hope I didn't keep you out too late."

"No, it's fine. After they eat, they'll just wash up and go straight to bed."

Dexter smiled. "This was fun."

"Yes it was," Rita said. Her voice was pleasant, but there was a hint of reserve in her facial expression.

"Maybe one day when we have more time we can go further up Biscayne Bay towards the Keys. It's really pretty out there. Less polluted."

Rita nodded noncommittally.

"Dexter," she started. "I think we should talk about…what we're doing."

"Right. I was about to say the same thing," he said. This was his chance.

Relief spread over Rita's face. "Really?"

"Yeah. My sister wanted me to ask you if you would come with me, her and her boyfriend to the carnival tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. She's really into double dating, but I've always thought it was overrated."

Rita shook her head. "Dexter, I'm confused."

"Well, it's just, she always says, 'Why be one couple when you can be two,' but I've always felt like it was just double the—"

"No, I get that; I just don't get…where I come in."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not dating."

Uh oh.

"I know," Dex said, back pedaling. "I'm just kidding."

"Really?" Rita asked doubtfully, "Because you sounded serious."

"I mean, I was serious about Deb, but I was kidding about, well not kidding, per se, like 'ha ha', but more like, um… it's just that, you know, she's been bugging me to go with her and I really didn't really have anyone else to ask, so I was thinking 'This'll be funny…ask Rita.' Not saying that I'm only asking you because there's nobody else. And I know we aren't dating. I mean, I told her we weren't dating."

Rita fidgeted with her hair while she waited for Dexter to run out of steam. Then she paused a minute, collecting her thoughts. She touched his arm. Dexter thought about what Debra said—but this didn't seem like giddy flirtation. It seemed like the opposite, actually.

"Dexter," she began. "I've really appreciated all that you've done for me and for my kids lately." He looked down at her hand apprehensively as she spoke. "But, I'm just not ready for a relationship."

"Neither am I," Dexter said. I never will be. "That's what so…great about it."

"I'm… not following."

"That way we can just have fun. Without all the pressure and expectations… like we've been doing. You, me, Deb and What's-His-Face, together at the carnival, just burning off some steam after work."

She let the idea sink in for a moment, and a smile crept around the edges of her lips. "You know what, that kind of makes sense to me. I haven't had real 'me time,' since… It's been a while."

"Great! So it's a date," Dexter said. Rita's face dropped. "Kidding." She cracked a smile and headed towards the door. "Good night, Dexter," she said.

He wiggled his fingers in goodbye.

When she was gone, Dexter sat in the car and held his head. He needed a drink.