Author's Notes: A couple of people wondered if Brenda and Fritz were a little OOC in this story. I say, maybe or maybe not. The fun in fanfic is to play around with the characters a bit, change the scenery and add on or explore different dimensions of their personalities. On the one hand we have my Closerverse where Brenda is having a full-out jealous temper tantrum because Fritz acted like a Typical Male, and then there exists on this board a closerverse where Brenda leaves Fritz and lives happily ever after with Sharon Raydor (not that there's anything wrong with that!) Just sayin'.

There is also an M-rated version of this story.

Thanks again to LadyFey for her dedicated editing. You are the bomb,my friend.

Are you reading Manatee Mama's story The Seer? You aren't? Well for heaven's sake, it's a better story than this one, silly!

Chapter 2

The men who stood, and sat, in front of Brenda as she wrote on the Murder Board had no idea what she was barely covering under the long linen blazer she was wearing. If they did, they would all be turned on, like he was since he first saw her that morning. If they only knew what she looked like in The Dress, and what lust The Dress provoked, he doubted they would be sitting there so calmly. Fritz was convinced The Dress had magical powers. It exuded some type of aphrodisiac, not just over him, but over Brenda as well. The Dress was sacrosanct. He thanked The Powers That Be for arranging a series of events—a wedding, a free Saturday to go shopping, whatever impulse Brenda had to enter that particular boutique—to bring The Dress into their lives.

Sixteen Months Ago

Brenda passed the wedding invitation back to Fritz with a huff. "Gettin' married on New Year's Eve! That's the silliest thing I've ever heard!" she complained. "The weddin' isn't until 8PM, so it's gonna mess up everyone's plans!"

"Well, that's kind of the point," Fritz explained. "The wedding reception is a New Year's party. Besides, it's not like we had any really exciting plans anyways." The groom, Jack, was a work friend of Fritz's, and he thought it sounded like fun.

"Yes, but I can't go to a church dressed like I'm goin' to a New Year's party! I'll have to change!" She was intent on being difficult.

"Jack and Nicky are getting married in another part of the hotel, not in a church. So get as gussied up as you want, Brenda."

"I don't have anythin' to wear," she whined.

"Then go buy yourself something," Fritz replied patiently. He pulled her close to him and kissed her on the forehead. "You work all the time and make good money, but you hardly ever spend anything on yourself. Why don't you splurge and go to a really fancy boutique and buy a new dress? You deserve it."

She chewed her lip for a second in thought, than looked at him with a smart-ass expression. "You sure it's in the budget?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Brenda. Now go, buy yourself something overpriced and beautiful."

"Oh, if I must." She reached for her black purse.

"Oh, and Brenda?"

"Yea?"

"Pick out something hot."

If only every wish came true that easily. A few days later, Fritz sat in the living room watching football while Brenda got ready for the wedding. "Honey, we need to leave in 20 minutes, don't forget," he yelled in the direction of the bedroom.

"Fritz, I heard you the first two times."

"That was different. I think then I reminded you we had to leave in 45 minutes and then in 30 minutes. This is the 20 minute warning. It's a whole new announcement."

"You're a real comedian, Fritz, you know that?" she hollered back. "Why don't you just sit there and watch your football."

"I will, Brenda. For 19 more minutes."

Fifteen minutes went by, and Fritz heard his name called tentatively from the bedroom. "What is it? Do you need to get zipped up?" He turned his attention back to the game, hoping she would come to him.

"Well…Fritz, I think this dress might be a little, you know, a little too much," she answered, her voice nearer. He could tell she was standing in the hallway.

"What do you mean 'too much'?"

"Ummm, see, it's a bit more…revealin' than anythin' I usually wear." Fritz's ears perked up. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, his whole body swiveling in the direction of the hall, but she was standing out of sight. "Well, not so much revealin', because I'm not showin' a ton of skin, it's just a lot sexier than my other dresses is all. And I'm not sure it's appropriate." She sounded nervous.

Sexier than her other dresses? Brenda was sexy in anything. She had the body of a 20 year old and everything she wore, no matter how modest, accented her figure. He had to see her.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" he said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn't want to sound like a drooling horny teenager, or she might go and change. "Come on, honey, it's a New Year's wedding, and I'm sure you look great. If it's not appropriate, I'll tell you, I promise." Yea right, he thought. What a load of crap.

But she must have believed him, because she heard the sound of her heels on the hardwood floor as she entered the living room. And then…and then…all the oxygen was sucked from the room and if Fritz hadn't been sitting, he was sure he would have passed out cold. He was a mere mortal staring at Venus, and was struck too senseless to avert his gaze.

The Dress was bright red. The red of candied apples and sports cars. Unapologetically red. It was, in fact, unapologetically everything. It was skin-tight, but in a form-fitting, body-conscious way, not in a cheap, Lycra, streetwalker way. It was ruched across the stomach and hips, breaking up the smooth second-skin appearance of the fabric. She was right that it didn't show much skin: it had capped sleeves, and the hem ended just above her knees. But oh, the curves that dress showed off: the dip of her tiny waist, the rise of her hip, the strong slopes of her ass, and her lower back that Fritz couldn't keep from touching,

And then there was the bust.

He couldn't take his eyes off her chest. The neckline was cut somewhat low, stylish but not too revealing, and in the center of the top was an oval keyhole cut into the fabric which revealed the swells of her breasts. It showed enough to tease and tantalize, and with the rest of the fabric stretched unselfconsciously over Brenda's generous bosom, that revelation of flesh was a preview to the beautiful body that was guaranteed below. Brenda had pulled most of her long blonde hair back in a large gold and diamond barrette, with perfectly formed ringlets curling around her face. Her makeup was a bit heavier than usual, smoky and sensual, and the red lipstick matched the dress perfectly. Black high heel strappies completed the look.

Fritz felt his cock grow rock-hard and was sure Brenda saw it too, and he knew he should do or say something besides just staring at her rack open-mouthed. But he couldn't take his eyes off of her; hell, he could hardly look away from her bustline to admire the curve of her thighs and the narrowness of her waist before he went back to staring at the magic keyhole again. Brenda cleared her throat, and he finally forced his eyes to meet hers.

She actually looked worried. She looks hotter than any movie star in Hollywood and she's actually worried? "Too much?" she asked, looking at him. "I can tell you like it and all, but to wear it out…"

"Oh no, no, no, Brenda, it's perfect. No one would think it's too much, or…not enough…or whatever you're worried about. You just look…my god, I can't even think of a word for it. Beautiful. Amazing. Amazingly beautiful. Please, don't change, honey. I want to walk into that wedding with you on my arm wearing that dress. Because the dress isn't inappropriate at all. It's just that, wow, you are stacked!'

She laughed then, tilted her head back and laughed, the kind of belly laugh he heard too seldom from her. He knew he had convinced her. He got to his feet and took her in his arms, his wandering hands drifting on their own volition to cop a feel through the thin fabric. "We can be a little late you know," he whispered in her ear.

She laughed again and pulled out of his embrace, swatting his arm. "No, we can't be late for a weddin'," she said. "Besides, you were the one countin' down the time. Now that you have determined I am fit to be seen by your colleagues, let's get out of here." She turned around and walked toward the door. Fritz followed slowly behind, admiring the movement of her bum and thighs in the tight dress. I can hardly wait to get her back home and make love to her, he thought, sighing, all of a sudden wishing this wedding wasn't happening.

The wedding was in a small ballroom in the hotel which was decorated with white flowers and balloons to look at once bridal and festive. Not to Fritz's surprise, Brenda got several appreciative looks from male guests when all the attention should have been focused on the bride. After the simple ceremony, the hundred-plus crowd went to a larger ballroom next door for cocktails, dancing, and dinner.

Fritz loved showing Brenda off. She was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever dated, and he loved to be out with her, away from the LAPD where she had imposed very strict rules about touching. He was free to hold her hand, put his arms around her, just to let the world know he was with this stunning woman. She's mine, the primitive caveman part of his brain thought. Besides her looks, Fritz was proud to have Brenda on his arm for who she was; he was married to the Deputy Chief of Major Crimes of the LAPD, for god's sake. He, Fritz Howard, recovering alcoholic, was married to one of the most successful women in LA. And even though he had been teased at work for years for being whipped by the Queen Bitch of the LAPD, Fritz always introduced her to his colleagues with a note of pride in his voice. He took a strange satisfaction in knowing Brenda wasn't intimidated by anyone and didn't hesitate to make someone's life very difficult if she didn't get what she wanted. Her persistence and strength were some of the qualities he loved about her. Although they made him want to strangle her sometimes.

Being with Brenda looking sexier than she ever had wearing The Dress, sitting at a table with his best friend Jerry, it being New Year's Eve, and feeling the contagion of happiness that is pervasive at weddings…Fritz couldn't stop smiling. And he couldn't stop his body from reacting every time he got close to Brenda. She was a very good dancer, and liked the band at the reception, and Fritz was more than happy to hold her and dance as long as she wanted. But each time he looked at her, or held her, he instantly got turned on. Brenda giggled and told him to calm down, but he couldn't control it. He tried to think about boring things when she was pressed up against him dancing slowly, every inch of her beautiful body painted in red, looking like a siren…but it never worked. Since he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his colleagues, Brenda acted as a human shield so he could get to the table and hide his excitement from the world. His excitement would recede, but then he would look at Brenda and she would smile her best sexy smile, or reach for his hand to drag him out to the dance floor again, and he would spring back to life.

After dinner, they were dancing a particularly long slow dance and Fritz felt a familiar ache when he buried his nose in Brenda's neck and caught a whiff of her perfume. Instead of moving away, Brenda pushed herself up against him. "Brenda!" he hissed. She looked up and him and smiled. She was so soft and small and damn, the fabric of that dress was so thin he could feel her body heat. She looked up at him, winked, and then pulled out of his surprised arms. He stood on the dance floor, no human shield, quite aroused. "Come back here!" he whispered loudly, feeling self-conscious. Brenda stuck out her lower lip, looking for all the world like a naughty child, and said, "it's dark, honey, and I have to use the Ladies' room." With that she twirled around, giving him a 360 degree view of her, and slipped off the dance floor. It was dark, thank goodness, and Fritz was able to make it back to the table without anyone giving him strange looks.

He was sitting down ten minutes later, eating a piece of wedding cake and talking to Jerry, when his phone buzzed. It was a text message from Brenda: "I am going to call you in two minutes. Pretend it's the LAPD. And tell people I had to take a call if they ask where I am." He kept his face neutral because he knew Jerry and his wife, Toni, were watching him, plus there were four other guests at the table. What was Brenda playing at, and where the hell was she?

"Who's texting you on New Year's Eve, Fritz?" Toni asked. "And where did Brenda go?"

"Oh, it's just a Tweet," he lied smoothly. "I have it set that some of my Tweets come through as texts. And Brenda got a call from the LAPD. She stepped outside to talk." I'm becoming as good a liar as her, he thought.

A couple of minutes passed and his phone rang. Turning slightly away from Jerry so he couldn't see Brenda's name on the Caller ID, he answered, "Special Agent Fritz Howard."

"Alright Special Agent Fritz Howard, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Now pretend you are talking to someone at the LAPD in an official capacity, but walk out of the ballroom as you do so, and take a right."

"Well, Sergeant, I realize that it's my job as FBI liaison to handle these things, but I'm not sure why you are asking me to do this," he said in his formal voice, waving a hand at Jerry and pointing to the phone and then to the door, indicating he had to leave. Fritz followed Brenda's instructions, having no idea what she was up to.

"Keep walking down the hall and pass the bathrooms. Just keep goin', almost all the way to the end of that long corridor."

"Sergeant, I still am unclear why these instructions are being handed to me," he replied, keeping up the charade while following her orders. He walked past the bathrooms, expecting to see her in the hallway, but it was empty.

"And I am very confused by the entire thing, Sergeant," he said, with a note of irritation in his voice.

"All will be revealed," she whispered on the other end. He was almost at the end of the long hallway when he noticed one of the double doors was slightly ajar. He jumped when it opened further, and Brenda stuck out her head.

"You scared me!" he accused her, wondering what she was doing lurking in the hotel hallway. She put a finger to her bright red lips and opened the door wide enough to let him in, looking around to make sure no one had seen them. She pulled Fritz into the unlit room, which was, as far as Fritz could tell, a ballroom similar to the one they were in. Brenda quickly pulled the door shut behind him,

"Careful," she whispered, as she led him further back into the dark expanse of the room. She ran into a table or two, cursing softly, but guided Fritz safely around all obstacles. Whenever he started to ask her questions about what she was doing, she just said, "hush!" and continued to maneuver around tables and chairs in the semi-darkness.

Finally they got to the back of the ballroom to a small nook that led to a locked kitchen area. There was a lighted "Exit" sign which illuminated Brenda. She grabbed a chair, put it against the wall under the sign, and told Fritz to sit.

"No, not until you tell me what you are doing, Brenda. What's up?" He was growing impatient with her games.

"I'd rather show you," she said softly, and his heart sped up. Oh. So that is what this is about.

She pressed herself up against him and took her small hand and placed it on his lower abdomen, and his body instantly jumped to life. Fritz groaned, and without thinking, bent down to kiss her. She pulled away, but left her hand where it was.

"If you kiss me, honey, my red lipstick will get all over you, and everyone is gonna know what we've been doin'. I hate to sound like a hooker, but please, no kissin'."

"And what exactly are we doing?" Despite where her hand was, reality was creeping back. "Brenda, we can't fool around in here, we might get caught by a security guard or someone else. I work with these people, I don't want…" he was cut off by a small hand placed over his mouth.

"Oh, will you just be quiet, you killjoy! No one is gonna interrupt us in this empty room. Even if they did, they can't see us in the dark. And no clothin' is gonna be removed, because this is about you and that arousal of yours that doesn't want to go away. We've got hours before we can go home and do somethin' proper about it, so I'm offerin' you some help now. And I know for a fact you are quite fond of this, uh, form of relief."

Good god. She was going to pleasure him right now. During a wedding. With work people around. Wearing The Dress. Holy crap.

She took her hand off his mouth and led him to the chair, where she encouraged him to sit. He knew that when Brenda was this single-minded about something, resistance was futile. Plus, he was about to get some action, so who was he to argue? Brenda placed her hands on both his knees and, leaning into him, kneeled in front of him. Holy crap, he thought, I'm gonna explode right now. He looked down at the sexy keyhole in her dress and saw, thanks to the ambient lighting of the Exit sign, her soft white skin. He looked at Brenda and she had a frown of concentration on her face. She was a woman who took sex seriously.

He reached to run his hands through her hair. "No," she said. "You can't mess up my hair, or it will be like you wearin' my lipstick. Sorry honey, no touchin.' But I know how much you like to watch, and that's why I'm doin' this under the Exit sign."

Fritz watched. And it was incredible.

...

Afterwards he tugged Brenda onto his lap.

"Hey, no time for cuddles," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. "People are gonna get suspicious."

"Let them," he said. "That was just amazing, Brenda. Wow."

"I could tell," she smiled. "And maybe now we can dance without you gettin' all excited." She pulled out of his arms and stood up.

"I don't know," he said, his voice rough. "You are so damn hot in that dress, I feel like I'm 18 again. Just you wait until I get you home, Brenda. You won't know what hit you." He reached up and took a finger and traced it along the inside of the oval, touching Brenda's warm skin. She gasped.

"Oh, I'm countin' on it," she said. She took his hand and pulled it away. "But for now, we have to get back. Let me go first, since I've been gone the longest. I'm gonna stop by the bathroom and make sure I look OK, then go to the table and say I got called about a case. Give me about five minutes for a headstart, OK? Then you stop by the bathroom and check yourself out, and come in and bitch about how the LAPD can't do anythin' right and have to be buggin' you about some stupid case on New Year's Eve. Maybe we could even fight about it for a minute."

"That wouldn't be too much of a stretch," he said, reaching out and cupping her bum. She stuck her tongue out at him and said, "five minutes. See you back at the table. Love you." And before he could say anything else, she was making her way through the dark room toward the door.

Fritz waited the requisite amount of time, every second of which he needed to recover, and headed through the maze of tables to the door, bumping in to a few tables but too happy to care. Finally he was out of the room and, as Brenda had done when she pulled him in, he checked to see if he was alone in the hallway. Coast was clear. He ducked into the bathroom and splashed his flushed face with cold water. He smoothed his hair, mussed from Brenda's affectionate ruffling, and straightened his tie. Another man came in and Fritz recognized him as the father of the bride. The older man stationed himself at one of the urinals, and Fritz took the other. He was looking straight ahead as he readied himself to pee, thinking about what Brenda had just done to him, when he heard the other man clear his throat. Fritz looked over and saw that the father of the bride was staring at him, which was a big faux pas in a men's room. Fritz felt a flush of anger and looked down at himself to see just what the man was staring at.

And he froze. He was covered in red lipstick.

11