Close Enough For Rock and Roll...

Comet Strannix burst into the bedroom I was using and landed a massive hand square on my backside.

Deb:  OWCH!!  What in hell....

Billy:  Up!  We gotta go!

Deb:  What for?  No!  I'm sleeping, piss off!

Billy yanked the blankets from the bed, leaving me somewhat less than
decently covered.  I howled incoherently and scrambled into a sitting
position.

Billy:  Full moon out tonight!

Deb:  You animal!

I swung at him, but he danced away.

Billy:  Move it, baby.  We gotta clear out.  Time's wastin'!

Deb:  It's two in the morning, can't it wait?

Billy:  Nope.  Beth gave us up, we gotta beat feet.

Deb:  She what?

Billy:  You deaf?

Deb:  No, I'm beat.  What'd she do?

Billy:  She spilled her yellow guts to Gerard.  She might not think she
did, but she said the two little magic words and the Dawg'll put two and
two together.  We gotta be gone when he gets four.

Deb:  So Sam got to her...

Billy:  With any kinda luck he'll be gettin' to her for a coupla hours more.
Git your ass up, woman.  I got no time to argue.  You don't wanna move,
we'll leave ya here for Gerard to find ya.

That was enough.  The prospect of landing in Sam's clutches again,
especially after I had effectively rubbed his nose in his own bad luck,
was less than appealing.  I stood up and headed for my clothes.

Deb:  Where are we going from here?

Billy was heading out into the hall.  I could hear Ryan moving around
in the next room.

Billy:  Your house.

Like hell!  I chased him down and booted him in the butt to get his
attention.

Billy:  Get dressed, I toldya.

Deb:  Yeah, whatever.  You can't haul all this trash to my house!  There's 
noplace to put it.  I don't want it!

Billy did a very strange thing.  It told me that he was willing to do 
whatever he had to, to achieve his ends.  It also left me weak in the knees.
He turned around and, instead of pinning me to the wall or flinging me
bodily back into the bedroom, he locked his arms around my waist, pulled
me tight against his chest, and stared down into my eyes.

Deb:  Billy...

Billy:  Quiet.

Deb:  I'm serious, Billy, I...

Billy:  So am I.  Shut up.  Listen.

He bent until his forehead touched mine and I could feel his warm breath
on my cheek.  I was trembling and he knew it.  He could feel it.  Whatever
Sam did to Beth with his nearness, Billy did to me.  Whatever Sam was able
to do to me, Billy did tenfold.

Billy:  I need your basement.  Just till the heat's off my place.

One hand slipped low on my hip.  My nightie was very old and very thin
and it was almost as though there was nothing between his hand and my skin.
He pressed my hips tight against his.

Billy:  You gonna tell your boy no?

Deb:  You're messin' with my head.

The hand slid a fraction lower.  Billy smelled of soap and water and
honest sweat.  That and the hand and his intense gaze taken in combination
were dizzying, especially for someone not particularly used to dealing
with such men in such situations.

Billy:  It's so damn easy.  Baby?

Deb:  My electricity bill is already outrageous.

I was weakening yet again.  The hand covered a certain portion of my
anatomy.  The muscles in my stomach wanted to let go.

Ryan:  William...we need to be on our way.

Billy:  Hold on, boy.  You gonna gimme what I want?

Deb:  This isn't fair.  You always do this to me.

Billy:  No, baby, usually I don't ask.  Well?

Deb:  I shouldn't.

Billy:  I come with the stuff.

Deb:  I give up.  Okay, let's go.

Billy:  That's my girl.  Get a move on.

Full bore again.  Billy smacked my butt for the second time in ten 
minutes then released me so suddenly that I stumbled back gainst the wall.
Instead of helping me regain my feet, Billy was sprinting off behind Ryan.
Cursing helplessly, I went to gather my few things together.  He'd got me
again.

Deb:  What do you want me to do?

Billy:  Here.  Pile this in the truck, we got no time to pack it.

Deb:  What if it breaks?

Ryan:  I think we can manage to replace it, Darlin'.

Billy:  Yeah, and you can get me your discount.

Deb:  Where's the Suburban?

Billy:  My place.  Couldn't drive it, too.

We were loaded in under two hours.  Ryan took the first leg of the trip
as he'd had the most rest.  I was squashed between Heckyll and Jeckyll.  I
thought I might make a crack about macho city but I was far too close to 
those fingers.  In fact, I was practically in Billy's lap.  He had dropped
his arm across my back and dragged my head down to his shoulder.

Deb:  What's this?

Billy:  Relax, baby.  You're drivin' next.

Deb:  There's a cheery thought.  Your shoulder's like a rock.  Isn't there
anything on you that's not hard?

Billy:  Nope.  Wanna see?

Deb:  Later.  Much.

Ryan:  You walked into that one, lass.

Deb:  Far be it from me to deprive my own personal Cro Magnon men their
amusement.  Both of you shut up, why dontcha.

Billy:  You wanna know what happened in that restaurant?

Deb:  Of course.  Was it a massacre?

Billy:  Of the pipsqueak, damn right.  The Dawg was stickin' to her worse
than shit sticks to a blanket and she was eatin' it up.  Then he starts in
with the 'tell me what's in the basement, baby' and she's had a case for 
that old mother...

Deb:  Please.  One of us does answer to Mother, here.

Billy:  You s'pose someday that'll make me a mother...

Deb:  Billy!!!

Ryan:  Two for you, lad!

Deb:  Bite me.  Hard.  Both of you.  Go on, William.

Billy:  I live to serve.

Deb:  I'd be happy if you'd obey once in a while.

Billy:  Don't hold your breath, girl.  Anyhow...he was workin' on her and
gettin' himself all torqued up at the same time...I knew what the old...
anyway, I knew what he wanted.

Deb:  Jealous?

Billy:  I made that girl what she is, but no.  I want that, I know where
to get it, don't I?

Deb:  I don't know, do you?

Billy's hand brushed the side of my breast.  The shudder caused Ryan to
look at me curiously.

Billy:  I think I do.

Deb:  What makes you think he got it?

Billy:  I need to explain?  He parked his car and walked her upstairs.  The
light went on.  Then it went off.  That shit car of his never moved.  Any
questions?

Deb:  No.  Congratulations, maybe, but no questions.

Billy:  Congratulations?  What the hell's that supposed to mean?

Deb:  She wanted it.  She got it.  I'll bet it beat hell out of a Toyota.
Good for her.  She's your friend - even if you're not all that fond of Sam,
isn't it nice to know she's getting her wish?

Billy:  Shit.  Go t'sleep, mouthy.

There was nothing for it but to do as I'd been told.  When I woke up, I
found that my head had slipped off the hard shoulder and practically into
the hard lap.  Billy was pounding my hip, not ungently.

Deb:  Yow, now what?

Billy:  Time to wake up, baby, come on.  Stiff neck?

Deb:  Stiff everything.

Ryan:  He knows the feeling, lass.

Billy pushed me into a sitting position beside him.

Billy:  Hold still, then.

Deb:  What for?  You a chiropractor?

Billy:  Shut up and turn around.

Deb:  Sieg heil.

I did as instructed, putting my back to Billy and awaiting developments.
Immediately I felt his fingers biting into my tight muscles, kneading and 
pushing at them.  I cried out softly, leaning back into his hands.

Billy:  Hurt?

Deb:  Far from it.

Billy:  Don't work if it don't hurt.

Ryan:  Beggin' your pardon...d'you two s'pose y'might hire a room?

Billy:  I thought you liked to watch.

Deb:  Will you two idiots kindly get your tiny minds out of the gutter?

Retaliating, Billy bore down hard.  I felt something crack in my spine
and I sagged backwards.

Billy:  Better?

Deb:  All kinds of better.

Billy raised a big hand to my shoulder, then spread the fingers wide 
before dragging it across my collarbone.  I turned my head, to find myself 
nose to nose with him again.

Billy:  You better be ready.

Deb:  For what.

Billy:  Me.

Meantime...someplace else in Texas, and later in the day...

Beth had been the object of envious looks all day long.  Not many of the
women at the library received flowers, let alone two dozen red roses.  The
luxurious blooms Sam had sent her had been filling her cube with their
fragrance and her head with memories for the last couple of days.  At
quitting time, she meandered out to her car in a gentle fog, wondering when
she might be lucky enough to see Sam again.  Her answer came immediately.
He was propped against her car, looking travel-worn and mad.  His
expression softened instantly when he caught sight of her.  She broke into
a jogtrot.

Beth:  Sam...

Sam opened his arms.  He looked like he needed her to come to him, and
she was happy to feed that need.  She leaned contentedly against his broad 
chest.

Beth:  You look upset.  You have a bad time since I saw you last?

Sam folded his arms around her and she felt him nuzzling her hair.
Distantly the sound of applause reached her.  Damn co-workers.  If she
hadn't been so sure the sound was meant to be encouraging, she might have
been tempted to show them just how much of Billy had rubbed off on her.

Sam:  Not anymore.

Beth:  Come on, Sam, don't give me that.  What's up?  Something to do
with Billy and Deb?

Sam:  You know me too well, Honey.  I just missed 'em.  Couldn't have been
by more than a few hours.  I have a call in to Tom, maybe he knows 
something about why they were there.

Beth:  Tom?  Where's there?

Beth was tucked into the car, belted and buckled securely in the
passenger seat.  Was Sam talking about who she thought he was talking about?

Sam:  Tom...you know...your actor buddy.  They were on his place.  Don't 
you remember mentioning him to me?

Oh, Christ.  Beth had been half-hoping Deb's mischievious streak had
extended to pulling her leg about that.  She apparently thought she might
have spent a night in Tommy's own bed, using one of Tommy's own t-shirts
as a nightie because Ryan hadn't brought hers.  Beth had strung her along,
thinking there was no way, they'd been barking up the wrong tree and not
even Billy had cojones that huge.  But Sam had taken Beth at her lust-
fuzzed word, had checked it out, and they'd been right.

Beth:  I don't remember much of anything.

Sam picked up her hand, kissed the tips of her fingers and then laid it
on his thigh.  Beth looked away, feeling herself flush.

Sam:  That good or bad?

Beth:  Dunno.  Depends, I guess.

Sam:  I remember every minute.  It was as good as I could make it.

For a few minutes they rode in silence, Sam grinning as he drove.  Beth
snapped on the radio, then immediately lunged for the volume control.
Somebody by the name of Ryan had left it on low roar, and she hadn't had 
the thing on since the car had mysteriously turned up back in the usual
parking slot at her building.

Beth: Sorry about that.  Sometimes I forget.

Damn Ryan.

Sam:  Never mind.  You heard from Deb, Honey?

Beth put what remained of her guard up.

Beth:  I guess you could say so.

Sam:  She comin' out?

Beth:  Um, no...I didn't get that impression.  But she did give me another
message for you.

Sam:  And what's that?

Beth:  The message is, and I quote - neener, neener, chili-beaner.  That's
all.

Sam:  Just what in hell is that supposed to mean?

Beth:  She's...uh...she's starting to get a charge out of hiding from you
so successfully.  I think the message is something like a Bronx cheer.

Sam:  That's it, Baby, the gloves are comin' off.

Beth:  Sam, sweetheart...you have to remember, she's like me, just an
average little citizen.  She's fallen in with some...different people.
I don't think you need to get her in any trouble.

Sam:  Honey, I don't need to get her in trouble.  She's already in
trouble.  You hear from her again, you tell her I want to see her cracked
ass in my office in St. Paul.

Beth:  I shouldn't paraphrase?

Sam:  Not a syllable.

Beth:  Message received and understood, Sergeant Rock.

Sam:  Good.  Now that's settled.  You hungry, wanna stop somewhere or do
you just wanna go to your place and whip something together.

Beth:  Why don't we just go to my place.  I might have a couple of steaks
in the freezer, if Billy didn't find them, and we can have a salad...a
bottle of wine...kick back and relax.

Sam squeezed her hand, inched it over on his thigh.

Sam:  Definitely relax.  It might be the last chance I have for a while.
I have to head back to St Paul, file some reports.

Beth:  Then let's go.

Much later, Sam was leaning against the arm of the sofa.  Beth was 
leaning against Sam.  He was indulging in a cigar.  He slid the flat of his
hand over her ribcage, down over her belly and hip, around the back of her
thigh and up again.  Beth was wearing his shirt.

Sam:  Where're they at, Angel?

Beth:  I don't know, Sam.  

At that moment, she was telling the absolute truth.  They could have
been on the moon.  She knew nothing but Sam, nothing at all.

Sam:  You sure, Baby?

Beth:  You're doing it again, Sam.

Sam:  No, I'm trying to recover from...

Beth:  Not that, Smart-guy.  You're being a cop again.

Sam:  But that's what I am, Honey.

Beth:  Not here, okay?  Not now.  Just be with me.

Sam brought his hand from her thigh to her chin in one slow,
voluptuous movement that took in every curve and robbed her of breath.  
Beth wondered if the man knew just how beautiful he was, or was he too
busy being a cop?  She turned her face up, as she might to the sun, and
accepted his kiss.  She tasted his cigar, the wine they'd been drinking.
After a long minute, Sam broke away.  His eyes were luminous.

Sam:  Okay, Baby.  Okay.  Not here.

TO BE CONTINUED...