tagSci-Fi & FantasyA Lazy Mage Quests (Un)EZ Creds Ch. 03

A Lazy Mage Quests (Un)EZ Creds Ch. 03


Spector programmed the autonav to take him home and considered opening his beer. The beer that was getting warmer by the moment just as surely as God was really fragging with him tonight. When Damon reached for the beer, he was reminded how uncomfortable he was in the Action Jumpsuit™ with the long coat stuffed inside. He unzipped and started pulling the duster out. As he pulled, the channeling ended. Blood trickled from Spector's nose, his ears started ringing and he was left struggling to finish extricating the duster. Frag he thought as the drain Damon was subjected to surpassed the capacity for his installed trauma damper to fully diminish.

"Go to the nearest en route parking garage and park," Damon ordered the autonav. The car turned right at the next corner and slowed as it made to enter a pay parking lot. "Stop immediately!" Spector ordered and the car quickly complied. "I said parking garage, not parking lot. I want covered parking." The car resumed moving, passing by the lot. Another turn and a few blocks distant, the car pulled into an opening between two storefronts and drove down a ramp. "Stop and let me get a time ticket," Damon said and the car pulled up to the ticket dispenser and he claimed the ticket when it slid out. The car drove down another ramp and shortly found an empty space and parked.

Getting out of the car with some difficulty, Spector staggered a step to the side, caught his balance by reaching out a hand to the car and steadying himself, stretched then unzipped the heavy jumpsuit all the way. He easily retrieved the duster, set the duster on the driver's seat and the rig holding the pistol and machine pistol, then removed his forearm guards, setting them all atop the duster, and finished removing the jumpsuit. He folded the jumpsuit as neatly as possible and tossed it to the passenger seat, then reached into the center console and found a paper napkin from a fast food restaurant and wiped the blood from his upper lip and dabbed at his nose. Tearing off a strip and rolling it up, he plugged one nostril, then repeated the process for the other. Spector looked around, standing alone in the parking garage in his Armor Underoos®. He put the shoulder rig and pistols back on, then reluctantly donned the duster to conceal them.

He leaned into the car and grabbed a beer from the six pack, popped the top and took a long pull. Then Damon thought of possible trouble, like drinking in public, and reluctantly got back into the car. His head still throbbed and his ears rang. The pain was bearable and too familiar, a cost of using magic he was willing to accept when called upon it. Complete rest and relaxation would let him recover, sleeping would be best but even sitting and enjoying his beer would work. From past experience, Damon knew he should be fine if he could relax for fifteen minutes to an hour.

"Park on the top level," Damon ordered the autonav, hoping it was open to the sky and therefore less likely some passerby would see him still drinking in public even though in the privacy of his car. He was in luck and the car parked itself, then shut off, leaving Spector alone with the patter of rain on the roof. Damon finished the beer, feeling a little better, then drank another while admiring the darkness around him created by the towering surrounding buildings. He sipped away a third beer with his eyes closed and music playing quietly on the radio. Damon was opening a fourth beer when it dawned on him he had nothing further to do and a comfortable bed awaited him at home instead of a car seat and he would be much better off resting at home than here alone.

He instructed the car to take him home. Spector ordered a halt when he saw a trash can near the exit ramp and disposed of the empty cans and paper napkin pieces. When Damon got back in he ordered the car to let him pay for the parking with a credcard and he fished out one of the cards he had gotten from the foiled robbers. Maybe the first way they try to track down their vehicles after getting out of jail will be checking their card's activity. Which will lead them here. Thinking this through a bit more, Spector reset the transponder and morphing license plates, reset his destination, and had a spirit conceal him and the vehicle immediately and until well after he paid and was out of sight of any cameras. He wasn't sure it would matter or help, but it didn't really hurt to try.

A mile from the parking garage, Spector reset the transponder and license plate and changed his destination for home once again. As Damon tried to relax again, his mind started playing devil's advocate. What if, they DID look up charges to their cred cards? What if they noted the purchase of the beer and umbrella? What if they searched the parking garage and found the beer cans and tied them to the purchase with the other card? What if they also retrieved the bloody napkin? Then they had a material link to him. And they had a shaman who might be able to track him. And WHERE did that shaman find a swamp domain to summon that spirit?

Knowing it would cause him unrest and knowing it was easily remedied, Spector changed back to the last transponder codes and license plate numbers and had the car return to the same parking garage. He burned another service as they approached it to get them all concealed, then took the time slip, retrieved his trash, exited in the same fashion as before and resumed the journey home with the same changes as before.

A few miles from home, Damon had just opened the fifth beer and was actually starting to think he would get there without further incident. After all, no gangs had attacked, actually, no gangs had come anywhere near him, no lightning struck him even during the downpour, and no cows fell out the sky.

No sooner had he removed the can from his lips after swallowing as much of the tepid liquid as he could bear, than flashing lights appeared behind him followed by a quick WAAAHH! from a siren. Spector looked back to see red and blue lights flashing at about grill height. His first thought was about the cache of weapons in the trunk. His next thought was the open beer in his hand. But surely I can't get arrested for drinking and driving, the car was on autonav Spector thought. He put the beer inside the center console then instructed the autonav to pull over and stop. As the vehicle stopped and the engine shut down, Damon rolled down the window, noticing the rain had stopped.

Spector avoided looking in the mirror and the high wattage search beam focused on it. Before he knew what had happened he felt a brush against his chest and a voice asking, "What do we have here?" as the person who pulled Spector over snatched the Browning from his holster, almost as if it was known it was carried there.

"What's your," as recognition came, "probable cause," Spector started, then let the protest trail off.

"Probable cause? I don't need any probable cause. I'm the law, buddy," the female said. "Now get your hoop out of there. Place your hand on the door and the other on the roof where I can see them as you get out." The cop backed away a step and tucked the commandeered pistol in the back of her pants.

Spector got out as instructed and started to look back over his shoulder.

"Just keep looking straight ahead, mister," she said, halting his movement. "Put your hands on top of the vehicle."

Spector complied. "I don't want to get shot by accident," Spector said, "so I'll let you know right now that I have another pistol in my shoulder rig opposite the one you took."

"Aren't you a dangerous one," she said, taking the second weapon. "It makes me wonder what a vehicle search would turn up and just how many more weapons you have tucked away. Now keeping your hands where they are, step your feet back."

As Spector did so, she kicked his feet apart and while he was off balance and before he realized what was happening, she wrenched one of his arms behind his back and locked a cuff on his wrist. She leaned her body into him, practically molding herself to him.

"Surely we can work something out," Spector said.

"Work something out," she repeated as she took his other arm, brought it behind his back and finished cuffing him. "Like what? You want to drink my bath water? Or lick the toe jam from between my toes?"

"Uhm," Spector stammered. "That isn't exactly what I had in mind," he said as she patted his buttocks down in a more intimate than professional manner then spun him around.

It was Spector's first look at the woman since she had pulled him over. She wore a button-down blouse with a couple more buttons unbuttoned than professionalism or modesty dictated, and a detectives badge in its holder was clipped to her breast pocket pulling the blouse material down and a bit to the side. Spector caught a glimpse of a lacy, white bra.

"What if that's what I have in mind as well as a few other dirty, demeaning deeds?" she asked. She followed Spector's gaze. "See something you like?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I like very much what I see," Spector said and got slapped across his face for his honesty.

"That's it. I'm taking you in," she said. "You have the right to shut the frag up. If you don't shut the frag up, anything you say can be used against you, and we'll twist it around so it will be used against you. If you can't afford an attorney, you're fragged, but we'll provide one for you for free. You're fragged because you get what you pay for."

"Can you do something about my car?" Spector asked. "If you get my pocket secretary out of my front pocket and hit 227 for me, I can just have it drive itself home."

The officer sighed then began fishing around in the area where front pants pockets would be. After getting groped a few times, Spector said, "It's in the coat pocket."

"Is that so?" the woman said. "Are you carrying another concealed weapon or are you just glad to see me?"

"I'm glad to see you, of course," Spector said and bent forward to give her a quick kiss.

He was rewarded with another slap to the face as she easily evaded his effort. "Am I going to have to strip search you?" she asked.

"I might enjoy that," Spector said, "but not out here on the side of the road."

"I bet you would," she said as she pulled out his pocket secretary, dialed it as instructed and held it to Spector's head as he gave instructions to the car. Moments after hanging up, the car drove away. She led Spector to the Ford Americar and loaded him into the back seat then started driving.

Spector didn't know of any Lone Star station houses along the route they were taking. As a matter of fact, they were heading away from most everything. "I don't know of any stations down this way," Spector said.

"Oh, you don't?" She asked rhetorically. "It's a safe house I know about. A good place to do a thorough strip search and I can interrogate you at my leisure."

"Uhm, is this going to involve probing?" Spector asked.

"You want probed, do you? I can arrange a mind probe and a full body cavity search," she said.

"You know, mind probes aren't admissible as evidence," Spector said. "And I was hoping I'd be the one doing the probing after all the groping you've done so far. Do you do that to all your suspects?"

"Only the cute ones I pull over in the middle of the night after getting called out of bed to go into work," she said.

The Americar pulled up to his house and she opened the door and pulled him out. She marched him inside and to a bedroom.

After putting Spector's commandeered pistol's on the dresser, she fetched another pair of handcuffs from the dresser, these with some padding. She fastened one around his wrist, backed him up to the bed and fastened the other end to the headboard. She unlocked the double cuffed wrist from the original handcuff, pushed him back onto the unmade bed, quickly rolled over him and had the remaining hand with the original cuff locked to the headboard on the other side of the bed in one smooth move. The bottom half of the form fitting Armor Underoos®, and his briefs, got pulled down into a tangled bunch at his ankles, then she retrieved a belt from the closet, ran it between his legs just above the tangle at his ankles, then lashed it to the bed's footboard. Propping his head up with pillows so he could easily survey the room, she removed her gun belt and placed it over a corner on the back of a chair. She kicked off her shoes toward the closet and slowly went to work unbuttoning the blouse.

She asked, "Are you enjoying this?"

"Very much, Mara," Spector said.

"I don't want to have to wash blood...or other stains out of my clothes," she said.

"Other stains?" Spector asked.

"I've had about enough lip out of you for a while," she said as she finished off the last button then bent over, giving Spector a great view of her cleavage, and removed her socks. Spector wondered if she was going to stuff the socks in his mouth.

"Is this a new type of torture?" Spector asked, "because I'm thinking I'd tell you about anything to see a bit more."

"I told you I was about tired of your comments," she said as she stepped onto the bed, and placed her feet beside Spector's head, then raised one and let the toes rest on his lips. "Clean up those toes," she said.

Spector hesitated only a moment then took her big toe into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. She guided the other toes and Spector followed her lead. A moan escaped her lips. Spector felt like making a comment about her really enjoying this, but knew it wouldn't be understood.

The second foot didn't take as long.

Abruptly, she stepped off the bed and approached the dresser. Facing Spector, she unbuttoned then teasingly unzipped the pants, revealing matching lace panties. With the pants hanging on her curving hips, she removed her blouse and tossed it over the back of the chair. She pulled the pins restraining her hair, shaking it loose to fall around her shoulders. Then she turned her back to Spector and faced the dresser mirror. Looking at Damon in the mirror's reflection, she slowly shimmied the pants down. She stepped out of them and kicked them toward the chair. Placing her hands on the dresser and leaning forward, she swayed her hips, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, teasing Spector until she heard him groan.

Then she quit teasing...

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