I don't own the characters and make no monetary profit from this story. Peter Gunn and Edie Hart own each other. I wish I could tempt him away from her but that will never happen.

Thanks very much to Melchy for lending an ear when I needed one and for offering some great suggestions when I needed those. This chapter wouldn't have been possible but for her input. It always helps to have an understanding soul to talk to.

A Lifetime in Eight Days

Chapter 30: Talking Birds and Pink Sheets

Peter Gunn offered the last morsel of meat on his plate to Thomas then watched with a smile as the cat made quick work of it. His pink tongue touched his nose as he eyed the now empty plate then he meandered over to Edie Hart where she sat on the floor a few feet away. The pretty blonde shook her head at the feline as she stacked her own plate on top of the other one on the fireplace bench. She took a sip from her coffee cup and eyed Pete over the rim.

"There's dessert."

"Is there?" He didn't remember seeing anything resembling dessert and Pop certainly hadn't relayed any instructions about it. If there was one thing Frank Gunn was a stickler for it was giving instructions. Whether they were followed or not was up to the person they were aimed at. Evidently he had said something to Edie though. And if there was indeed dessert Pete wouldn't turn it down. He watched his favorite girl gracefully rise from the floor and gather the dishes.

"Mmhmm." She gave him a quick smile. "I'll run some water over these and put them in the drainer and then I'll be back." He set his coffee cup on the top plate and allowed his eyes to follow her as she disappeared into the kitchen. After half a minute of rubbing an appreciative feline's chin both man and beast heaved satisfied sighs. Thomas wandered away into a cozy corner to take care of his after-dinner ablutions while the PI found his feet and directed them to his new favorite chair and settled himself comfortably.

Pete felt sleepy and his eyes tried to drift shut and he found it difficult to keep his mind from wandering as he waited for Edie to come back. Then his eyes snapped open and he was confused for a few seconds as the chair shifted and there was the girl in question on his lap, her knees snug against his thighs and her fingers soft against his face and in his hair and against the nape of his neck. He was left wondering whether he had actually fallen asleep. He raised his brows and looked at Edie through drowsy eyes.

"I thought we were having dessert."

She gave him one of her big slow smiles then she leaned forward to give him an equally big slow kiss. Finally she angled back, his lips following hers as long as they could. Pete offered up a bemused smile.

"Oh," he said. He rested his hands on her hips. "That kind of dessert."

Her fingers moved to the buttons of the soft dark blue cardigan he was wearing. After opening the top one she thought better of it and simply grabbed at the shoulders, silently telling him to lean forward so she could pull it over his head. He did and she did and the sweater was tossed to the sofa. Her fingers moved on to his shirt.

"You're being kind of forward aren't you?" His gaze followed her fingers down his front as they nimbly released the buttons. He loved to watch her undress him. Almost as much as he loved to undress her. He enjoyed the feeling of her hands on him as she went about her business. She was always so focused on what she was doing, becoming oblivious to everything else, taking care of the simple task with the same dogged determination she brought to everything she did.

"Am I?" The tip of her tongue was caught between her teeth in concentration.

"Well, you're assuming I'm interested."

"Aren't you?" The casual checked shirt came off with a little help from both of them and quickly followed in the wake of the sweater. She pulled the t-shirt from the waistband of his light gray woolen trousers but she didn't remove it. Her warm fingers crawled up his sides beneath it, sending a long shiver through him and giving his skin the little duck bumps that usually belonged to her.

"That's a silly question." Pete wasn't sure how he got the words out. "Silly."

"Is it?" The woman smiled at the use of his special name for her.

"Are you sure we don't have this conversation backwards?" He frowned sternly. "Those sound like my lines."

"Do they?" Her hands abandoned their gentle inspection of his chest and moved instead to the bottom of the white t-shirt she had donned after returning from her outing earlier in the day, beginning to pull it up but pausing at the sound of the man's voice.

"Shouldn't I be the one doing that?" His fingers covered hers.

"Should you?" Edie's eyebrows rose and her lips trembled with laughter. Pete quickly lifted the shirt over her head and immediately cupped the back of her neck with his hand to pull her in for a hard kiss. The t-shirt fell to the floor.

"You know what?"

"What?" she breathed.

"You're being even more exasperating than usual tonight." Pete flinched as he felt her hands begin to work on the zipper of his slacks and swallowed hard as her fingers drifted along the bulge forming beneath it. He squirmed as the zipper came down and the button above it was undone. Then he watched as she rose to her knees and pulled at her own pretty pink and white lounge pants and somehow managed to get them off while still straddling his lap. The things this woman could accomplish never ceased to amaze him. "What-" Pete cleared his throat. "What exactly are you doing?"

"You don't know?" Her hands framed his face as she looked at him.

"Well, I suppose I have a general idea..." He smiled as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were so soft. And moist. Her eyes an endless ocean of blue. He could stare into them forever and never grow tired.

"Pete." The word was a warm breath against his lips.

"Hmmm?" His hands spanned the small of her back, played with the elastic of her white cotton panties before briefly cupping her bottom, then drifted up to the matching bra and made quick work of the hooks they found there. Her skin was smooth as silk beneath his fingers,warm against his palms. He raked his fingernails lightly along her spine and felt her shiver in response.

"Make love to me."

He gave her an easy smile and lifted has hands and brushed her hair back, his fingers tangling in the blond tresses as he pulled her face to his and slowly kissed her. Then his lips moved to her cheek, peppering kisses there before finding the pulse in the curve of her neck and lingering.

"If you insist," the man murmured against her soft skin. "I'll do my best..." he nibbled gently at her earlobe, "...it's one of my very favorite things to do."

"I insist." Edie smiled blissfully at the warmth of his breath against her face and the low rumble of his voice in her ear. "And what do you mean one of your favorite things?" A playful frown creased her forehead. "What could be more important than..." She gave another involuntary shiver as his hands feathered lightly along her shoulders and then downward to cup her breasts beneath their loosened covering. "...than this?"

His lips tilted in a smile as they continued their journey, placing a soft kiss at her temple and remaining there as he answered her in a voice filled with tender amusement.

"Nothing..." He dipped his head, covering her mouth with his, thrilling to the feel of her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her breasts pressing against his chest. What began as a gentle kiss turned heated as she leaned into him, her hands cool against the back of his neck as she held his head to hers. It was the man who eventually ended it, breathing heavily as he carefully pushed her away, his gaze taking in her flushed cheeks and her swollen lips that could say to the world they had been kissed and kissed well.

"Much as I like this chair..." Pete heaved a regretful sigh and moved to get up, taking her with him, "...what do you say we go upstairs and try out that new bed?" He smiled and took the woman's hand and led her to the stairs, stopping once to kick his pants off when they slipped past his hips and began to sag to the floor. Edie's bra followed about halfway up the stairs, the straps sliding from her shoulders as she shrugged it off, paying no heed to where it fell. He pulled his t-shirt over his head with some help from his girl's willing hands as they reached the landing, dropping it to the carpet as they entered the bedroom and kicking it to one side as he closed the door behind them. Balancing first on one foot then the other, he removed his socks and tossed them in the general direction of the bathroom and then reached out a hand to snap on the bedside lamp.

Pete backed Edie against the side of the bed, reaching around her to grab the covers to pull them aside. Then his hands moved down to cup her bottom to bring her body into his for closer contact, his thumbs slipping beneath the elastic of her panties to peel them slowly down her thighs until they fell to the floor. He turned them both around, sitting down on the bed and taking her with him, pulling her onto his lap, her legs straddling his hips as they shared a heated and lingering kiss. Finally she pushed away, leaning back a little and allowing her gaze to wander over his face and shoulders. Her fingers followed her gaze, trailing gently along his neck to his collarbone, down his chest and along his ribs to his belly button and a little further to the waistband of his blue and green striped boxers, a solemn expression coloring her face all the while. Edie looked up to find Pete staring at her and she was consumed with a sudden shyness and didn't know where it came from. It wasn't as if this was their first time together. And she certainly hadn't been shy then. Her gaze darted away from Pete's and landed on the pillows lying against the headboard. All semblance of shyness suddenly vanished and she was looking at her lover with a sweet smile and laughing eyes.

"Pete." His name left her lips in a tone that oozed smugness.

"Hmmm." His own lips were doing indescribable things to her shoulders and her neck and the hollow of her throat as they made their way downward to their ultimate target, open-mouthed kisses leaving a trail of moisture in their wake, his hands sliding down her sides and cupping the swell of her hips to pull her closer.

"The sheets." She tried to keep her eyes open but couldn't, the lids drifting shut at the ecstasy his mouth was creating.

"What about the sheets?" The warm breath of his sigh against her breast brought quick goosebumps to her skin and a pull of longing deep within her.

"They're pink." She could do little more than gasp the words, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she held onto him.

"No they're not." Pete fell backwards and rolled over, taking her with him until her head found the pillow. He quickly removed his boxers and tossed them to the side and pulled her to his chest, one arm going beneath her, the other snaking around her waist, his lips homing in on hers with an almost childlike delight, laughing into her mouth as he felt her smile. She pulled away.

"Pete, they're pink. The sheets are pink."

"They are not pink. They're coral."

He kissed her again, removing his arms from around her and nudging her onto her back, his hands framing her face and his fingers weaving into her hair and his lips continuing their gentle assault until she was moaning beneath him. The PI had found over time that kissing her silent usually worked. This definitely wasn't one of those times. She wouldn't give up, gasping a quick breath and plodding forward as he broke the kiss and lifted his head.

"Pink," she insisted. "They're pink."

"Coral," the man repeated firmly, shifting to the side and reaching out a hand to open the nightstand drawer, groping around until he felt what he was looking for.

"I thought you told the man white," Edie said, watching him, her heartbeat quickening.

"I changed my mind. You do it all the time." He finished what he was doing and leaned on one elbow, offering up an indulgent smile as he allowed his other hand to outline her feminine curves.

"Why?" The word came on a groan as his mouth found her breast, a wonderful tingling sensation shooting through her body, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers running through his short black hair then clutching at it as he moved to the other breast.

"I thought you'd like these better," the man sighed, his warm breath buffeting her skin. His lips moved to the valley between her breasts and he lifted his gaze to peek up at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes half-closed. She was so pretty he could hardly stand it. "I didn't want you to think you couldn't have any color you wanted so I called to see what else they had."

"But I didn't -"

"Honey, forget the sheets."

Pete's mouth quickly covered hers again in a deep kiss. If at first you don't succeed, he figured, and this time it appeared to work. His fingers trailed gently over her soft skin, teasing and rediscovering, searching and memorizing. Sliding and dipping into areas familiar yet mysterious. He felt like a man who had walked too many miles and needed to slake his thirst, wanting to do it quickly but knowing it had to be a slow journey. He worked his way back up her body, mouth and tongue and fingers working their magic until he once again found her lips with his, felt her wrap herself around him as he settled over her, a groan of deep satisfaction escaping him as without hesitation he slid into her. He'd found his home again, that's all he could think as he began to move within her, before all his sensibilities left him and he concentrated on nothing besides making love to this woman.

Frank Gunn stood in front of the cage that hung from something resembling a shepherd's crook in one corner of Barney's living room. Inside the cage, almost hidden away in the jumble of mirrors, bells, feeding trays, cuttlebones and other assorted entertainment and food items, was a small green and yellow parakeet. He – Frank assumed it was a he – was nervously tapping his curved bill on the wire of his swing, making noises and giving his observer frequent odd looks. The man frowned as he stared at the bird, cocking his head as he listened.

"Is he talking?" Frank threw a quick glance at Barney. The bartender grinned back at his visitor from his position in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the popcorn popping in a wok on top of the stove. He shoved the blue Big Buster Popcorn tin back into the cabinet then pried the caps off two big bottles of Coca-Cola. "What's he saying?" Frank frowned as he tried to interpret the bird's mutterings.

Barney wandered over and handed his guest a bottle glistening with condensation.

"Get the gun, get the gun." He laughed at the expression on Frank's face and watched as the other man narrowed his eyes and listened closely and realized that was exactly what the parakeet was saying. His eyebrows went up as the little bird continued his one-sided conversation by repeating "you're a doll, you're a doll" and bobbing his head, skittering back and forth on his perch as he did so.

"What's his name?" Frank took a long draw from the bottle in his hand and then almost choked on the cold liquid when the bartender answered.

"Al Capone." Barney gave a sheepish shrug at the other man's questioning look. "Don't ask me. Fella came into Mother's a couple years ago looking for Pete. Had a humdinger of a story about the bird being a witness to a crime and how the mob was after him. Not the man, the bird. Can you believe that?" He opened the little door of the cage to allow the bird the freedom to come out if he wanted to. Then he returned to the stove as the sound of popping corn slowed down and moved the wok to the counter top, shaking his head all the while. "Pete being Pete he helped the fella out. I don't think anybody ever heard the end of it but he never came back for the bird so I brought him home. I guess if Pete had any idea he'd come for him he would have said so but he just told me to go ahead and take him." Barney pulled two big bowls from an upper cabinet. "So I did."

Frank accepted one of the bowls and scooped it half full of popcorn. He frowned down into it and then set it back on the counter, stuck his hands in his pants pockets and gave Barney a direct look.

"Speaking of Pete..." One hand came out of his pocket and he ran his fingers through his graying hair, reached for his Coke and unconsciously picked at the lettering on the bottle as he spoke. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for him over the past few weeks. I really appreciate it and I know Pete does too."

"I haven't done anything," Barney demurred, leading the way to the cozy living room and turning the television on as he passed by.

"Sure you have. You and Mother..." Frank smiled and sat down, "...Emmett. You were all there for him when he was in the hospital and then when we got him home. You've been there for Edie..." He got his drink and snack situated on the end table. "Going with her to pick out that chair was very kind of you."

A world-weary smile crossed Barney's face.

"If I hadn't been able to go with her one of the other guys would have." The theme from Bonanza began to play softly as the television set finally warmed up, the black and white picture slowly appearing shortly thereafter. "Everybody likes Edie, any one of the guys would've been glad to help. They'd all do anything for either one of them."

Frank nodded, glad of that, then let his mind and eyes wander as the western began to play. He decided he liked Barney's apartment very much. It was a good size, situated on the second floor over Markbright's Deli, with another apartment directly above. It was light and airy, with a nice bedroom and bathroom, a colorful kitchen and a living room that showed off the bartender's vast collection of beer bottles and bottle openers. That collection had grown and changed since his last visit more than two years ago.

"How's Pete doing?" Barney crunched a few puffs of popcorn and gave his full attention to Frank as a Chevrolet commercial appeared on the screen.

"Really well. Except for the headaches he's doing fine." The man smiled. "The doctor is impressed with his progress."

"Pete's a fast healer," the bartender nodded sagely.

"Mmm..." Frank agreed, idly watching the action brewing with the Cartwrights. He had missed the first episode of the series but from what he could see of tonight's show he'd be enjoying it for years to come. He wondered at the markings on the pretty paint horse the younger boy was riding and whether they were shades of brown or black. "You think color television will ever catch on?" he mused, taking a deep draw of his soda.

Barney's eyebrows shot up and his face took on a bemused expression.

"Not if the cost of a set doesn't go down," he snorted, running a hand over his thinning hair. "If I bought one of those things I'd never be able to retire. The payments would eat me up for the rest of my life." An impish smile moved his lips. "You should tell Pete he needs one. Then we could both go over to his place and watch."

It was Frank's turn to snort.

"Pete has no interest in television. He considers it a waste of time." He afforded Barney a pointed glance. "He never actually said that but I could tell it's what he was thinking."

Barney gave a good-natured shrug.

"He has better things to do with his time I guess." He nodded with that age old wisdom of a man who served drinks for a living. "Between his job and Edie he doesn't need TV."

"Mmm... I suppose."

Frank's attention shifted from Barney and Bonanza to the birdcage in the corner. Al Capone was busy lumbering through the open door, keeping himself steady by grabbing at the wires with his beak as he made his way up to the slanted roof. From there he took off with a quick flap of his wings, circling the room near the ceiling several times before landing gracefully atop Barney's head. Cocking his head this way and that, his dark eyes unblinking, he emitted some gravelly sounds and a few whistles made their way past his thick tongue. Then he bobbed up and down, bringing laughter from both men.

"Get the gun, get the gun..." The bird repeated his earlier words. "Kiss the dame..."

After a few minutes of the bird's hijinks Barney enticed him onto his finger and settled him back in his cage, closing the door on him after refilling his seed dish. He paused in front of the TV and turned inquisitive eyes toward his visitor.

"What'll it be? Wanted: Dead or Alive or Leave it to Beaver?" He laughed and turned the knob as Frank rolled his eyes. "Steve McQueen it is."

The two men watched westerns until late in the evening, taking a break at one point for Barney to answer some questions about his collection of beer bottles. Frank swore it had at least doubled in size since the last time he'd seen it and he wondered how Barney had acquired some of the more exotic brands. Barney shrugged and smiled and mentioned a few of the regular customers who brought them in for him. Several fellows did extensive traveling with their jobs and brought him back a souvenir on occasion. Frank learned not even his own son was immune to furnishing the bartender with a random addition to his collection, Barney plucking an Estrella Damm bottle from the second shelf and handing it to him.

"Pete brought this one back from Spain last year," he said. Frank wasn't aware his son had been to Spain. "He picked these up in Texas." Barney indicated bottles of Lone Star, Pearl and Shiner that were grouped with other American beers on the bottom row. "And this one in Mexico." Frank knew Pete had been to Mexico several months back but he hadn't heard about Texas and he made a mental note to ask his son about those trips. He picked up a few bottle openers, asking where they came from and how Barney acquired them. One colorful opener was molded from cast iron and featured a cowboy playing a guitar. Another was plain in shape with no adornment and had the name of a soft drink company imprinted on both sides. There was a lobster painted a garish red color and a nude woman formed from brass. Frank didn't do the math of how many there were but Barney admitted to having almost a hundred of the little gizmos along with around a hundred and thirty beer bottles. When Frank left at close to midnight he figured he'd have visions of bottles and openers dancing in his dreams for weeks to come.

Frank Gunn pushed the apartment door shut and gave a weary sigh, glad to return to his home away from home despite the good time he'd had visiting with Barney. It had been nice to have a quiet, boring evening for once after the drama of the past few weeks. He was too old for that kind of life anymore. In his younger days? Sure. His work had kept him on his toes then just like Pete's did him now. And he'd had a wife and soon a child to think of back then. Not that he figured it was any different for his son. After all, he had a girl who was already counting the number of kids they'd have. Frank wondered just how long he'd have to wait to hold that first grandchild. The thought brought a smile to his face. Knowing the deliberate manner in which Pete stepped through life he figured it would be a while yet, but not too long. Because now he had someone taking those steps alongside him. And that made all the difference in the world.

Frank walked into the kitchen and put the leftover pepperoni pizza Barney had made him take with him into the refrigerator. He slowly made his way back to the living room, smiling that the kids had thought to leave the light on for him. The apartment was quiet, the only sounds the snoring of the cat curled up on the sofa and the small crackles of a few embers still burning in the fireplace.

Feeling the long day catching up with him, Frank made a quick trip to the bathroom to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth, then moved the coffee table aside so he could unfold the sofa. Loath to move Thomas from his comfortable spot he nevertheless picked him up and moved him to a chair, reaching for whatever it was the cat was lying on to set it aside too. He realized the bundle of material was the shirt and sweater Pete had been wearing earlier in the day. Hmm, that fire must have really been burning, he thought absently, stepping around the recliner with the intention of hanging both items in the closet. Feeling a soft lump against his bare foot he looked down to find a swath of material on the floor. Pink and white and plaid. Oh, really? Frank retrieved the lounge pants. The white t-shirt the woman had been wearing lay on the other side of the chair. Apparently I wasn't the only one having a good time tonight, he decided. Risking a brief glance toward the top of the stairs he cocked his head and listened. There was no sound, the door was shut and no light was visible beneath it. His eyes narrowed. He moved forward and picked up the pair of gray pants near the foot of the stairs. How had he not noticed those when he came in? And was that a bra hanging on the rail about half way up the stairs? It was. A lacy looking thing. And another t-shirt on the top landing. Frank stealthily crept along the stairs to retrieve both, hoping that was all he would find and thanking God when it was.

Frank absentmindedly rolled the clothing together and glanced down at the bundle. Now what? he wondered. What to do with it. He could leave it outside the bedroom door, in a spot where it couldn't be missed, maybe put a note on it, Did you lose these? A chuckle escaped him before he could help himself. He quickly swallowed it and quietly made his way back downstairs. He should hide their clothes somewhere. After all, the kids should be behaving themselves while he was there. Never mind that he had been elsewhere this evening. Pete was still an invalid. Technically. He could hurt himself. And here they were resorting to hanky-panky the minute his back was turned. Frank snorted and almost laughed out loud and found his way to the laundry room where he tossed everything in the wash basket. No use embarrassing them. Back in the living room Frank returned to his task of unfolding the sofa. He had to remove Thomas from the same spot again but was finally able to crawl beneath the covers and close his eyes. He heaved a satisfied sigh and smiled into the darkness. How had he ever allowed almost two and a half years to go by without visiting Pete? How could he have imagined that letters and telephone calls could take the place of actually seeing his son? He promised himself right then and there it would never happen again. With the smile still on his lips he drifted into sleep.