"Work, I've gotta get my mind on work," Sgt. Rita Lance said wearily. She laughed out loud a second later when she realized how ridiculous her statement was. Her partner, Sgt. Chris Lorenzo looked over at her, frowned, then looked away. Over the past week, the average daily temperature in Palm Beach had been 100 degrees in the shade, and as usually happens in hot weather, people were too lazy to do anything remotely strenuous, murder included. Wow Rita, she thought to herself, this heat must be frying your brain. Get a grip! Rita looked over at her partner and just had to smile. Chris, who was swatting a nonexistent bug, looked very uncomfortable in his peach suit, even with the air conditioning on. He looked up, saw Rita watching him, grinned self-consciously, and went back to his imaginary bug.
Then, a voice from heaven came forth, pushing all notions of boredom aside.
"Lance, Lorenzo, in my office NOW!!"
"What's up, Cap?" said Chris?
"You want to know what's up? I'll tell you what's up. There's a shortage of police officers in VICE. I figured that since the best you could collectively come up with was staring into space and killing a poor defenseless, imaginary bug, I'd give you something to do. Starting tomorrow, you're on loan to VICE. You'll be going undercover to get the goods on a Russian drug ring. You'll be under deep cover, so no one, not your girlfriends, not your mailman, not even Frannie -please, definitely not Frannie, she'd kill me if she knew I was sending you to infiltrate a drug ring- knows where you're going. Got it!?!" Chris and Rita looked at each other and tried not to smile.
"Sure Cap, I think Christopher and I can handle it," said Rita, still having trouble suppressing her glee at finally having something to do.
"OK. Fine. Great. You'll be going in as James and Ashleigh Howard, a couple who's the epitome of old Southern money. I want you to go into the nightclubs for this one. You’re going to be very rich, willing customers…get my drift? No mistakes on this one. This shouldn't take too long; word is on the street that there will be a big deal in a matter of days. Think you can stay out of trouble that long?"
"We'll do our best, Cap," said Chris, smiling.
"Fine, fine. Go on, get out of here."
The Cap tried to look annoyed at the pair, but he couldn't help but smile as they left the office.
The next day, Chris woke up with a pounding noise in his ears. He listened for a few seconds more and realized that the noise was coming from his front door. He put a white tee shirt on over his pale blue boxers, and got up to answer the door. As he neared it, he heard an insistent female voice.
"Hey, Lorenzo, are you alive in there? Hurry up, I'm burning my butt off out here!"
"Hiya Rita," said Chris, opening the door. "Good morning to you, too." She certainly didn't look to Chris as though she was about to burn, with a tank top and brief pair of shorts on.
"Gee Chris, I'm sorry. I guess standing on a doorstep with what used to be hot muffins and iced coffee just doesn't agree with me." Rita pushed past Chris, who was apparently still moving too slowly for her, and put the coffee and muffins on the table. For all her talk, she moved about the studio apartment with a huge smile which threatened to blind her groggy partner.
"That's quite all right," said Chris, who seemed more awake after a few sips of his cool coffee. "I forgive you." He flashed Rita one of his own killer smiles, then excused himself to go shower. He turned to leave the room, then turned back around. "What are you doing here anyway? I didn't invite you over, did I?" asked Chris, frowning in confusion?
"No, I invited myself over. I think we need to discuss a few things before we, as the Howards, make our entrance into Palm Beach high society as the Howards."
"Like how do we get the drug dealers to believe our story, right?" said Chris, even though he was thinking, like what do I have to do to get you out of that ridiculously tempting outfit, right? Chris smiled to himself as he imagined that particular task. His smile died as soon as he realized what he was doing. Am I fantasizing about Rita? Wow Chris, get a grip, she's your best friend.
"Your smile seems to have deflated. Thought you had something there for a second, huh?" questioned Rita.
"Not really, I, uh, decided that it wasn't such a hot idea," said Chris.
"So, what was that idea of yours?"
"Nothing you'd be interested in," said Chris with a shrug.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," said Chris, trying to look bored with the conversation.
"Are you sure," queried Rita slyly.
"Absolutely positive," Chris said, a dreamy sort of grin playing at his lips.
"You know what Lorenzo," here Rita paused, but cut Chris off before he could answer, "I think you're holding out on me. But that's okay," said Rita with a cryptic smile, "I always get them to crack." With that, she headed toward the front door, saying over her shoulder, "The Cap wants us to be there tonight at 7:30 sharp. Come over my place at 7:00 so we can talk."
"Fine with me," replied Chris, but he was talking to the door. Rita had already left. "That's absolutely fine," he said to himself, as he walked toward the bathroom.
At quarter to six, Rita waltzed into her apartment, carefully laid her packages down on her bed, and fed the fish. After that, she took shower, curled her hair, and did her makeup, taking extra care "for the case". She walked into her bedroom and picked up the dress on her bed. She walked over to the mirror and removed the plastic that covered the dress. As she put the dress on, Rita looked at her reflection and said to herself, "I love this job. How many jobs give you money to buy clothes?" she mused. "How many jobs allow you to do good, meet wonderful people, and most of all, how many jobs allow you to work with intelligent, trustworthy, drop dead gorgeous guys who also happen to be total sweeties?" Rita continued with her appraisal of herself until she realized what she'd just said. Did I just call Chris a sweetie? A "drop dead gorgeous sweetie?" Sure sounds like it! Get a grip Rita.
Rita looked over at the clock, and noticed that it was already ten minutes after seven. Chris, this is no time to be late! she thought. Actually, Rita realized, it's safer to be exasperated with Chris than attracted to him. Must be the heat, she concluded, and went over to the phone to call her overdue partner. Just as she began to dial, the doorbell rang.
*Ok, I'm sure everyone knows that I don't own Chris, Rita, the Cap, or Frannie, and that I am not going to buy them any time soon. I'm just borrowing them, and I'll be sure to put them back where I found them when I'm finished. USA Networks won't miss them!
