[fic update] Piano Man Memory 01: Fools Rush In (part 1/2)

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Title: Piano Man
Author:trenchkamen (via ms_asylum fic-journal)
Fandom: Gyakuten Saiban / Ace Attorney
Genre: General, romance, memory, songfic

Memory 01: Fools Rush In (part 1/2)

“Pal, I really gotta talk to you about something.”

Phoenix and another man—a scruffy, hard-looking customer—looked up from the poker table. They were standing, leaning on their hands and agreeing on the stakes of a game. The man looked Gumshoe up and down impatiently, chewing on the end of a cigar. Gumshoe knew he looked desperate and ragged, but ‘ragged’ without the deliberate flair that would make him look elegantly ragged. He was an emotional wreck, an interference with the ambiance of the game.

Everybody breathed out steam. It was cold; hard-packed frost was caked on the floor and the bar along the side of the wall. Gumshoe envied Wright his stupid knit cap—for the life of him he still didn’t know what “PaPa” meant—as his own ears were already burning-numb. He wondered how the hell Wright could wear sandals down here, even if he did wear socks. His own toes were as cold as his ears, and he was wearing leather shoes, patched as they were with duct tape.

“Gumshoe…” Phoenix said quietly. His eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Maggey, I—I screwed up real bad, pal. I—” He glanced at the other man, whose eyes were narrowing impatiently. “—I really need to talk you to private.”

“He’s a cop?” the man snarled at Phoenix.

“No, his last name is just ‘Gumshoe’. Let me handle this.”

Phoenix put his arm around Gumshoe and led the taller man up the stairs to a main bar and turned into a side room. It was warmer up here, thankfully, devoid of ice, but still cool enough for breath to steam. Phoenix bid him wait a moment and brought him a full bottle of the club’s house wine. Gumshoe took it numbly, not even glancing at the label, and held it out as Phoenix jammed a corkscrew into the cork and twisted it out.

“She’s pregnant.” Gumshoe said dumbly. “I don’t know what to do—”

“Five minutes won’t make a difference at this point.” Phoenix closed his Swiss Army knife and put it the pocket of his jeans. “Let me handle this guy, and then we can talk.”

“F-five minutes, pal?”

“He’s a sucker. Easy as hell to read.” Phoenix smiled wanly, and Gumshoe noted how many lines had been etched around Phoenix’s eyes in the past few years since his disbarment, how much the very quality of his skin had lost a great deal of its youth. “Just wait here and have a drink, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Gumshoe nodded, and Phoenix left. He looked down at the bottle in his hands, rotating it slowly to read the label. Vintage, it said, a house wine from 2001. Gumshoe was usually a beer and hard whiskey man, more by financial restriction than by choice, so this meant nothing to him. He shrugged and took a deep swig from the bottle. It burnt going down, filling his mouth with the familiar volatile warmth of alcohol, and something in the taste reminded him of deep velvet. He sighed heavily and sat back in the wooden chair, waiting for the familiar warm numbness to flood his limbs, and took another deep drink. The bottle was empty by the time Phoenix returned.

“Good God, man,” Phoenix said, taking the bottle from Gumshoe’s clumsy fingers. “You do realize this is stronger than it tastes, right?”

“I screwed up real bad, pal,” Gumshoe muttered.

“Yes, you told me.” Phoenix set the bottle next to him as he sat on the wooden ottoman, staring into Gumshoe’s eyes carefully. “So, Maggey’s pregnant, huh?”

“I—I shoulda used a condom, but she said she was on birth control, and—”

“The pill?”

“No, this… new herbal stuff, Chinese. Doesn’t mess up her hormones or nothing. Got it in Chinatown; said it’s all natural; she wanted to try something new since she’d heard that the pill can cause cancer…” He hiccupped, and Phoenix sighed heavily and shook his head, pressing between his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

“Gumshoe...”

“I don’t know what to do.” He buried his head in his hands. “I don’t get paid nothing, pal. You know that. I can hardly feed myself right. I got bad hours. I can’t support a kid and a wife.”

“Well, there is the alternative…”

Gumshoe looked up angrily. “I ain’t leavin’ her, never!”

“That’s not what I meant.” Phoenix sighed, patting Gumshoe’s shaking shoulder. He carefully put his words into order. “…Planned Parenthood has cheap rates for… termination. Especially if you’re low income. If you’re not ready to support a kid…”

Gumshoe hiccupped and shook his head violently. Phoenix sighed again and rubbed his back, allowing him ample time to put his words in order. The ‘new waitress’, (who Phoenix knew damn well had been ‘new’ there multiple times under different aliases, but he was sitting on his knowledge for the time being), Anya—or whatever-the-hell Russian name she had taken this time around—poked her head in asking in broken English if they needed any help; Phoenix shook his head and asked for some warm borsht for their visitor. And more wine.

“…I can’t…” Gumshoe said, finally, after Anya had shut the door. “I can’t, I can’t…”

“I’m afraid that’s Maggey’s decision now,” Phoenix said quietly. “The baby is growing in her body.”

“I mean, I thought about it; I ain’t stupid, but I can’t… I can’t…”

He buried his head in his hands, clutching his hair between his fingers. He took in a sharp breath, trying to curb a sob. He heard Phoenix sigh, heard him walk across the room and return. Phoenix pressed a tissue box into Gumshoe’s hands; he pulled the top tissue out and blew his nose loudly.

“…how far along is she?”

Gumshoe wiped his nose with the damp tissue and threw it on the ground by his feet. He was staring at the concrete floor. “…two months, somethin’ like that.”

“So abortion is still a legal option right now.”

Gumshoe did not look up. Phoenix scratched his shoulderblades.

“Look…” Phoenix sighed. “I know you don’t want to think about this, but for her good, you guys have to talk about it if you’re going to even consider it. The longer you wait, the harder it is for everybody. The harder it is on Maggey’s body.”

Light spilled into the dark room. Phoenix looked up; Anya was edging the door open with her rear, balancing two bowls of borsht in her thick mittens. He mumbled a quiet thank you as she set them on the coffee table.

“Everything is alright, da?”

“Everything’s fine, Anya. Thanks.”

“You know, you have customers, they want to play you, da?”

“I know, Anya. I’ll take care of it in a moment.”

There was a harsh flash that made Gumshoe yelp in surprise and look up; Anya lowered her camera, smiling shyly.

“I take picture of friends helping friends, da?”

“Anya, this isn’t a good time.”

Anya smiled shyly and bowed, leaving. Phoenix sighed heavily and took one of the bowls, shoving it into Gumshoe’s clumsy hands.

“Eat, if you’re going to. We can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Because I absolutely do not trust her and she’s collecting evidence of you consorting with a defense attorney who was disbarred because of forgery, and you need that job to support your baby.”

“I don’t believe a word of it, pal!” Gumshoe sat upright suddenly, almost knocking his bowl off his legs. Phoenix caught it and slid it back onto the detective’s thighs. “And neither does Mr. Edgeworth, and we haven’t given up on it yet!”

Phoenix smiled wanly. “That’s very kind, but your boss might not feel the same way.”

“I’ll never forget… what you did for Maggey, pal.”

Phoenix waved his hand dismissively. “I was happy to. Eat, eat.” He picked up his own bowl and started eating. Gumshoe stared at the spoon in his hand numbly. “Speaking of Miss Byrde, where is she right now?”

“Oh she—I think she needed to talk to another woman, you know, and she went to Kurain to talk to Maya about all this.” He hesitated for a moment. “That… is where she is right now, right?”

“Oh, yeah. More training. It isn’t a long train ride.” Phoenix nudged Gumshoe’s hand. “Eat. We can talk later, but we need to go somewhere private.”

---------------------------------

“You didn’t use protection?” Maya half-yelled.

“I did.” Maggey was hugging her knees, curled up against the wall in Kurain’s antechamber. Maya was half-ready to slap her; only Maggey’s abject confusion stayed her hand. Tears were already running down her cheeks. “I used these herbs from Chinatown; they balance your body’s hormones without synthetics so you don’t get pregnant, and—”

“That stuff is bullshit!”

“I—I thought you guys’d believe in that stuff here.”

“I believe in what works, and that crap doesn’t. And you didn’t use a condom?”

Maggey shook her head vigorously, sobbing a little. “It… I didn’t think we needed to, and it’s not as… close… and we were already going and it was so nice and I didn’t want to stop… We’d never had to use condoms before…”

“Isn’t that because you used to be on a real pill?”

Maggey’s sobbing escalated. Maya sighed and slid down the wall next to Maggey, hugging her as she sobbed. It was three in the morning; Maya had been shocked when Maggey had come knocking on the temple doors, still dressed in her police uniform (apparently, Maya had confirmed, she had re-joined the force) and with raw eyes. She had the pregnancy test confirmed at the doctor’s office that afternoon; she was two months pregnant, and Gumshoe was the father. Maggey was vehement on the latter point. Maya knew Maggey too well to push it further, and there was no reason to doubt she was telling the truth.

“How’s the baby?”

Maggey gasped in shock and looked up. Pearl was standing above them in her sleep clothes. Maggey curled her legs tighter and hugged her still-flat abdomen.

“How did you know?”

“I feel the life you’re carrying in you. It’s about two months along, right?"

Maggey nodded numbly. Pearl sat down cross-legged in front of Maya and Maggey, then brought her crossed knees up and hugged them. Maya still could not believe how much Pearl was growing; she was cresting puberty, gaining curves, and a stunning amount of insight to complement her inherent abilities.

“I don’t…” Maggey sniffed wetly. “I don’t know what to do. The doctor said if I want to… terminate it… I have to decide fast. And nobody at the office knows…”

“The father does?”

“Yes, of course. I told him… this evening.” She sniffed wetly and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “He… doesn’t know what to do either. And I know he’s really worried about me.”

“Does he know you’re here?”

Maggey nodded. Pearl adjusted her legs and moved forward, placing her hand on Maggey’s stomach. Maggey took in a sharp breath.

“…it’s Detective Gumshoe, isn’t it?”

Maggey nodded. Pearl kept her hand on her abdomen a little longer, and then drew back.

“He loves you very much. More than anything in the world. And he’s very worried about you.”

Maggey smiled and wiped her eyes, blushing slightly, recalling memories of flesh and intimacy and gazes full of love, and drew back into herself as though trying to draw warmth from her memories. “Mm. I know.” She closed her eyes and smirked, suddenly, at some memory, one so deeply-ingrained and sensory Maya had trouble deciphering it. “I can’t believe I ever wondered if he was gay for Mr. Edgeworth.”

In spite of herself, Maya started giggling loudly. “I can’t believe we ever wondered if Mr. Edgeworth was straight.”

“Oh my God, I know.” Maggey giggled as well, wiping her eyes again. “But Rick really likes women. Like, he has this thing for breasts that borders on some sort of weird mother-complex.”

“You mean he—?”

Maggey cupped her breasts in her hands and pretended to bury her nose between them, making licking noises. Maya shrieked with laughter before clapping her hand over her mouth, muffling herself. Pearl was giggling madly and fell over onto her side.

“Oh my God, he motorboats you?”

“Pearl!” Maya smacked her on the thigh. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I’m twelve!”

“Exactly my point!” It’s amazing how much she picks up when she goes wandering off on her own for days. “And that’s not motorboating, anyway. Motorboating is when you vibrate with your lips and—”

Pearl started blowing raspberries, and Maya shrieked again and fell onto her side, clapping her hands over her mouth. Maggey turned bright red and shook her head vigorously, laughing loudly.

“No, no, no, no, no; oh my God, no…”

“Pearl! You little ho!”

“Did you just seriously call me a ‘ho’?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t know,” Maggey said between giggles, “I always think of little Pearls as being nine.”

Pearl drew herself up and cupped her very well-developing breasts proudly. “Oh, really? I’ve already got bigger breasts than Mystic Maya, even if that isn’t saying much.”

“Oh my God, shut up. And you’re not wearing a bra right now.”

“How can you tell?”

“I just can.”

Maggey was still giggling. Maya was relieved to see her smile; so many of the lines she had seen ghosting her face were smoothing away.

“Hey, at least Gumshoe can make you a lot of food, so you’re not, like, eating the couch. Does he still make those awesome wieners?”

“Oh, speaking of which—” Pearl said, “—can anybody actually call him Dick without, like, bursting out laughing? I didn’t think anybody could actually have that nickname anymore.”

Maggey giggled again and shook her head. “No. He hates that. I call him Rick, but I’ve never heard anybody else call him by his first name, ever.”

“Cause I could think of a ton of jokes,” said Maya. She smirked and leaned in closer toward the circle the girls were forming. “Does he have a big…?”

Maggey nodded, her smirk cracking into a sly grin. “And what he lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for with enthusiasm.”

Maya cracked up again and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God…”

“But doesn’t that hurt? I mean, if he’s unskilled and big and going at it like a jackhammer—”

“Pearl!” Maya shrieked.

“I didn’t say I was unskilled,” Maggey said slyly. “He may be, but I had a lot of boyfriends in high school. I’m used to handling unskilled oversexed men.”

“Maggey!” Maya gasped through laughter.

“I think Nick would have a heart attack if he saw this side of you.”

“Not anymore, no,” Maggey hugged her knees to her. “I want love now, not just fun. I’ve grown out of that.”

“But I’d never picture you…”

“People always assume sweet girls don’t like to have fun. It’s kind of stupid. Women are sexual creatures too. I don’t like the stereotype that only selfish or bad women like to sleep around. It’s… a what? Double-standard?”

“It’s always the quiet ones,” said Pearl.

“Yeah, I don’t like that either,” said Maya.

“Well, were you a ‘bad girl’ too, Maya?”

“Growing up here? No.” Maya hugged her knees. “Do you know how many men there are in Kurain? Like, two.”

“So, it’s not like a prison movie where you all turn lesbo on each other and experiment?”

Maya shrieked with laughter again and clutched her sides. “Yeah, totally. It’s nonstop lesbian action up here.”

“We use the magatama as strap-ons and the beads as ben-wa balls.”

“Pearl!”

Pearl smiled devilishly and hugged her knees tighter. “What? You started it.”

“And you took it too far!”

Maggey was laughing so hard she was having trouble breathing. Maya sat up, glad to see that Maggey was smiling again. She rubbed Maggey’s back.

“Oh, we’re getting distracted. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Maggey pulled out another tissue and wiped her eyes. “I really, really need to laugh right now.”

“Does sex feel good?”

Maggey and Maya looked up at Pearl, Maya half-shocked, Maggey sniffing and wiping her nose.

“What, hon? Is that a serious question?”

“Well, I’m curious, of course,” Pearl said, crossing her legs seriously, eyes rapt, “and it’s not like Mystic Maya would know, and every time Mystic Mia is around, I don’t have time to ask her about Mr. Armando.”

“Uh…” Maggey wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Yeah, it feels really, really good. If you do it right. It’s harder for the woman to have a good time than the guy; if the guy’s really stupid or doesn’t think about your needs, it’s kind of lame. But if he’s willing to communicate and learn, it’s really, really nice.”

“Like Detective Gumshoe?”

Maggey blushed and nodded, smiling to herself. “Yeah…”

“What does an orgasm feel like?”

“Pearl!” Maya gaped at her cousin. “What has gotten into you tonight? We’re trying to talk about a pregnancy!”

“It’s okay,” said Maggey. “I’d rather talk about this.” She thought for a moment. “Well, it’s something you can find out for yourself. You don’t need a man for that.”

“I know Mystic Maya masturbates, but she doesn’t like to talk about it, and I’ve tried, but I never got very far before I got bored.”

“Then you’re clearly not doing it right—”

“PEARL!” Maya shrieked. “How do you know about that?”

“You release a lot of mental and psychic energy when you orgasm.” Pearl adjusted her legs beneath her. “We don’t study it here, but a lot of mystics focus on that sort of energy or bondage to another person.”

“Oh, yeah, huh…” Maggey curled up again and looked over her legs. “…do you guys do Tarot readings or anything like that? I…” The gravity returned to her eyes. “…I don’t know what to do. I really don’t. It’s not like I have an answer in my heart I don’t want to face or something.”

“We’re not clairvoyants, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”

There was something else Maggey wanted to say; it was obvious, but she was biting her lip, looking up at Maya and Pearl nervously, glancing back down, looking up again, her arms tightly around her abdomen. Maya heard her thoughts, though, clearly as they had been yelled. The psychic force, the sheer need behind them, almost made Maya cry.

I want to talk to my mom.

Maya glanced at Pearl; it was obvious Pearl understood. Pearl glanced at Maya and nodded firmly. Maya nodded back and took Maggey’s hand.

“Maggey, come on. There’s somebody I think who wants to talk to you, and who loves you very much.”

-----------------------

“Have you guys moved in together yet?”

“No.”

Gumshoe was stretched out supine on the Wright Talent Agency’s red leather couch, coat draped over the arm under his head, tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. He belched softly; he was utterly smashed. Phoenix was sitting on the matching chair close to Gumshoe’s head, sipping some of the wine he had nipped from the Borsht Bowl Club. It had taken some convincing, but he had gotten off early that night. It was a Wednesday, anyway; already slow, and the few customers he had waiting to play him were low-rollers. It was silent and there was little danger of interruption; Trucy was long asleep in the nook she had made for herself in the office, and she had been out late practicing sleight-of-hand tricks for tourists again. She had used part of her earnings to buy a bowl of apricots for the piano-counter, and Phoenix had already eaten three of them.

“You’re going to be hung over as hell tomorrow. What time do you have to show up?”

“Six, same as always.”

Phoenix looked at his watch. It was three in the morning.

“You better call in sick.”

Gumshoe nodded. “But I need to start saving money… for the baby…”

“You’re on salary, not hourly. You have sick days.”

“Yeah…” Gumshoe rolled over and stared at Phoenix, bleary, drunk. “Hey, pal?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stand… being away from Mr. Edgeworth so much?”

Phoenix stared back at him. “It’s… hard,” he finally said. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But we talk on the videophone a lot, and I know we’ll get to be together someday.”

“Have you gone out to visit him? He hasn’t been back here in a while.”

“Once.” Phoenix looked down at his hands, smiling at the memory. Warm sheets, lazy mornings, soft skin—“In Belgium. It was an awesome little town. I’d love to go back as soon as I can swing it.”

“I can’t pretend I know what it’s like to love… a guy, pal, you know? It seems so unnatural to me. Like, I got guys I love like brothers, you know, but…”

“It’s no different.”

“But how would you know—?"

Gumshoe quailed. Phoenix knew he was glaring, though he shouldn’t; Gumshoe was simple, but honest, and never meant any offence to anybody.

“Oh, that’s right, huh. That… girl.”

“It’s in the past.” It’s in the past. I can finally say that, and mean it in my heart. Edgeworth’s put her so far in the distance. “And even if I had never loved a woman… I’d just know. It’s the same force. The same power, and fear, and pain, and ultimately, the same elation and joy.”

“Oh, huh.”

There was an awkward silence, and Phoenix started peeling the flesh off another apricot.

“But, you know, you don’t have to worry about Mr. Edgeworth getting knocked up.”

Phoenix laughed softly and pulled a strip of fruit off with his teeth. “True.” He chewed, the strip disappearing little by little, swallowed. “I have to deal with his mood swings enough as it is. Besides, I already have a daughter. One is enough. Trust me. I’m going gray before my time with all she gets up to.”

“I don’t know what to do, pal.”

“Well, when was the last time you slept, first off?”

“I—I dunno.” Gumshoe pulled out his battered cell phone and checked the time. “…yesterday?”

“Things usually look better after a night of sleep.”

“Do you really think I can sleep right now?”

“After all that wine? I’d be shocked if you don’t.”

“What if…” Gumshoe rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his arm. “What if Maggey needs me? What if she comes looking for me at my place?”

“I assume she knows your cell phone number. Or at least, I hope she does.”

Gumshoe nodded and put his phone back into his pocket before collapsing back onto the couch. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, then tilted his head back and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

“Thanks, pal. Really… thank you so much.”

----------------------

She’s so beautiful.

He had thought it a million times before, and the power and truth of that statement never failed to enthrall him.

Gumshoe hovered in the half-twilight between sleep and wakefulness, unaware that the blanket around him had been draped there at some point, for some reason thinking it had always been there.

It was hot in the reception room. A sheen of sweat formed at the nape of his neck and his hairline, but he was too tired, too comfortable in his memory, to care.

Maggey sat with her legs curled to her side on Gumshoe’s bed, naked—she had stunning, lithe curves, steamlined and made strong by a policewoman’s workout, gorgeous, shapely breasts, just the right size to fit in Gumshoe’s hands, a thatch of dark hair at the juncture of her legs, partially cut-off from view by the bent of her thighs—the curve of her stomach was smooth and strong—and those eyes, and that soft smile, totally accepting and comfortable—

That was what struck Gumshoe hardest, the ease and comfort they felt in one another’s presence as they had gotten closer to one another over the years. He had recalled being told once that after sleeping with somebody, you feel totally comfortable just sitting with them for hours, without nervous chatter to break the silence. It was true, the comfort and ease he felt around her was profound, and he didn’t feel so inept and useless—

“You’re beautiful,” he said. He was lying on his side on the bed, also naked, subconsciously tracing his fingertips along the comforter in a ghost of the motions he wanted to make on her skin, did make on her skin, would make on her skin.

Maggey smiled shyly and glanced at the bedspread for a moment, and Gumshoe hoped she wasn’t going to do the thing girls do when they’re complimented on their appearance and deny it—

“You are too.”

Gumshoe’s heart rose, though he was sure Maggey was lying. He knew he was homely. His body was big, angular, and clumsy, his hands were calloused, and he hadn’t shaved since that morning. He was well-muscled—that was the one thing he was proud of, as he was diligent in working out during breaks—but still hairy and rough. His cock, at that point erect, bent sideways, though Maggey had assured him countless times before that she could care less and could even use that characteristic to their advantage. She had said that she would benefit greatly if he’d trim downstairs, as he had what she called a ‘forest’ of black, wiry hair, and she got sick of picking it out of her permanent retainer. He had laughed in spite of himself at that; he had braces in the past too. It was another aspect they had in common. He had said turnabout is fair play (a saying he had gotten from Mr. Edgeworth), and she had laughed at that and thrown a pillow at him. They obliged each other; it had become a running joke, a point of inspection, and a mutually-beneficial one at that.

His mind wandered to eating Maggey out, something he had come to enjoy immensely and had become quite good at, if he said so himself (no small thanks to help files on the internet). He remembered holding her jerking hips in his hands, the curves fitting well into his palms, licking at her juices, glancing up through his lashes while he sucked on her clit to see her writhe with her head thrown back, eyes closed, moaning softly. He would nuzzle her clit with his nose while lapping at her opening; this made her thrash, drove her insane, drove her to orgasm quickly. He could time how long he had to work by conserving this move; he had playing Maggey’s body down to an art. He could get her off very quickly at work, even, something they had taken to doing on long shifts when nobody was around, sitting on tables and chairs in storage closets or evidence rooms. He was glad she wore the policewoman’s uniform with a skirt as opposed to trousers, as it was easy to slip her panties down her thighs, draw her slim skirt over her hips. He’d sometimes prefer to finger her so he could kiss her, whisper to her, hold her, but he’d gotten somewhat gun-shy and neurotic about washing his hands beforehand after Maggey had gotten a UTI, and was livid with him for a good few days. There had been no incidents since, and he had gotten amazingly adept at getting his thumb and fingers at just the right angles to drive her wild, make her rise up on her hips toward him, moan and gasp loudly enough that he had to cover her mouth with his so they wouldn’t get nailed—he could rub her clit and the walnut-rough spot just inside her, the place that made her jerk with ecstasy—

He subconsciously curled his fingers as though around Maggey, and his fingertips brushed the rough weave of Wright’s blanket. He remembered for a moment where he was, but his mind quickly flitted back into semi-consciousness.

And, of course, before or after, Maggey obliged him in turn. His eyes fluttered into the back of his head with the memory, and his hand strayed down inside his pants. He hadn’t realized he was already this hard, and he smoothed pre-cum around his head with his thumb. It was rough, so unlike Maggey’s hands, calloused though hers were from training. Her hands were soft and warm, her strong tongue like velvet, it was deliciously hot inside her mouth—and she always paid attention to the area just under his head, what did she call it, f-something?—which sent spasms of pleasure up his back so strong he had to fight not to thrust hard into her mouth. It was more risky for her to jerk him off for any sustained period of time, as much as he loved to see her eyes and kiss her, because things could get very messy very quickly, and if they were at work fifteen seconds could be the difference between easy escape and getting caught.

Despite his misgivings, Gumshoe smiled softly and reached out across the bedspread, and Maggey placed her fingertips on the back of his hand, smiling back at him. Her delicate fingers were dwarfed by his.

“What are you thinking right now?”

Gumshoe thought for a moment. “You’re beautiful,” he said finally. “I love you. And I’m so glad you’re back on the force, so I can see you every day. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

“I love you, too.”

Her smile turned into a smirk, and Gumshoe’s insides lurched pleasurably as though coursing with molten lead.

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