The Rookie

“Lesson learned,” I thought as we left the gym floor.

A week later we got a call of a hit and run, or maybe a better description was a hit and stagger. A drunk driver tried to park in front of his house and hit a neighbor’s car. The drunk ignored the dent and staggered into his house.

We drove to the address and the neighbor was waiting for us. He was a good witness and even saw his car getting hit and the drunk going into his house. Laura and I walked up to the front door; it was slightly ajar. I knocked and yelled, “Police, we need to talk.”

There was no answer so I pushed the door halfway open and spotted the drunk standing in front of a couch sipping from a long neck beer bottle. I stepped into the room about ten feet keeping my distance from the drunk and said, “We had a report that you drove into someone’s car. Why don’t you put the bottle down and come outside so we can talk.”

“Fuck you,” he answered.

I continued, “Hey, don’t be that way. I’m just doing my job. Put down the beer and let’s talk.”

“Not good,” I thought as I saw the drunk reverse his grip on the bottle so now he was holding the top of it in his hand; the beer bottle was now a club. I wasn’t especially worried; the drunk was still ten feet away from me.

I tried again, “Come on pal, just put…

“FREEZE ASSHOLE OR YOUR DEAD!” Laura yelled.

I reached for my gun and turned at the same time. A man was behind me with a raised baseball bat in his hand. Laura was behind him with her gun out. “What?” I thought, and then I knew. I never checked behind the door and I never pushed it all the way open. “Rookie fucking mistake…shit,” I berated myself.

I stepped away from both men turned to the drunk with the beer bottle and said, “Put the fucking beer down now or you’ll be hurting for only a month if you’re lucky.”

He put it down.

An hour later the paperwork was done; the prisoners transported by another unit to jail. When I realized how close it had been, the shakes had started. Finally, the shakes disappeared until the next time. Laura and I were getting into our unit. She was putting the key in the ignition when I reached over and grabbed her wrist. She looked at me. I said, “I fucked up Laura. It happens to all of us. If it weren’t for you, my ass was toast. Thanks.”

She flashed a grin that turned her face beautiful and said, “My FTO did a great job of showing me how to do the job—especially how to back up a partner. I guess he deserves a thank you too. Doesn’t he, partner?”

I gave her wrist a squeeze and let go. Afterward I thought, “Squeeze shit, I should have given her a kiss!”

A few days later Tom called me into his office. He asked for Laura and me to go on a stakeout of a suspected drug manufacturing operation. We were especially hoping to catch the head guy who had evaded arrest for years. If we could arrest him at the drug plant, it would be a major bust. Obviously, we would be wearing civilian clothes for the stakeout.

That night Laura met me at the station. She was wearing a light sweater with a V neck that was cut fairly low showing more skin then her uniform ever did. She was wearing a matching skirt. I wore slacks and a knit shirt. We took my personal car and went to the stake out. The suspected place was in the middle of an older section of town that had blocks of two story apartments; each identical to the one next to it with the only difference being the brick color. We pulled over and parked about fifty feet from the building, turned out the lights and relaxed.

It was Laura’s first stakeout and she was excited. I hoped it was my last stakeout and I was not excited. We sat there sipping coffee from a big thermos that I had brought along. The hours passed and nothing. Nature and the coffee called and I told Laura I was taking a walk. I walked into the nearby alley and pissed away. An hour later nature called Laura. I said, “The nearest gas station is about three blocks away; the alley is right behind us.”

She thought for a second and asked, “Do you need anything from the gas station?”

I replied, “A chocolate donut sounds good.”

She came back with my donut. That was the most exciting part of the night. Two hours later our shift ended.

The next night was a repeat. Laura was much less excited as hours went by. At one point she yawned. I said, “Take a nap. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

She nodded her head and leaned against the door. Minutes later her breathing slowed and she slept. I watched the apartment. I also watched her breasts as they moved up and down with her breathing. The skin between the V was highlighted by the moon. It was a somewhat erotic scene. I had a large erection, but no one saw it.

The third night was another repeat. If this was a drug operation, it was a very mysterious one. We sat and talked for the first couple of hours. Just as I was thinking that all stakeouts were boring I looked in the rear view mirror. Walking towards us were two men; one of them was the big shot. They would walk right by the car; we would stick out like pimples on a teenager’s face. I said to Laura, “They are coming up behind us on our side of the street. Don’t look back. The only thing we can do is start making out. You watch them as they come up to the car, and I will watch them when they pass.”

Laura said, “Line of duty, right?”

I replied, “Just start kissing.”

She leaned over and we started to kiss. Her lips warm against mine. The angle must have been difficult; she knelt on the car seat and continued the kiss even harder. I circled her back with her arms and pulled her closer. I felt her breasts pressing against my chest. She whispered, “They are almost even with the car.” She went back to kissing me.

Duty or no duty my erection was at full mast. The feel of her lips on my lips and her breasts against me were impossible to ignore. I was tempted to test her with my tongue, but some instinct told me that maybe that might be pushing it.

She whispered, “They are past.”

I saw them continue down the street. Laura continued to lightly kiss me, but her part of the show was over. They stopped, looked both ways down the street, and walked into the drug house.

I said, “Shows over Laura; we got them.”

She broke the kiss and was sitting back down on the seat as her hand grazed my lap. Bam—her hand hit my erection. There was nothing to say, so I said nothing. Laura also managed to say nothing. The two nothings hung in the air; the sexual tension was hard to avoid. I finally said, “We better call it in.”

An hour later Special Operations raided the house. It was a drug manufacturing operation and the kingpin was arrested with everyone else. Always looking for good public relations the media had been tipped at the last moment before the raid. They were there in force immediately after the raid. A microphone picked up the head man’s voice as he said, “It was the fucking kissing cops.”

We were heroes for maybe about two minutes, but then the kissing jokes started. Laura was particularly upset about the jokes. I told her that it would pass as soon as it was someone else’s turn to be the butt.

I was wrong. The kissing jokes continued. Tom O’Malley was the worst. He was a big six feet four inch Irish cop that weighed close to 275 pounds. He felt it was his job to tell anyone that would listen every joke ever made about kissing. I talked to O’Malley about easing up, but he ignored me. He said, “I’m just having fun…there is nothing wrong with jokes.” Laura continued to be pissed.

Two days later she walked in before the start of our shift. She was smiling. I could see that she was in a great mood. I asked, “What’s with you.”

She answered, “I just realized that I was looking at the jokes the wrong way; O’Malley is right; jokes can be funny.”

The sergeant gave the word that the pre-shift meeting would start in five minutes. We assembled into the squad room and sat down. Teresa, Harry’s secretary, passed out a sheet of paper that was the agenda that the Harry would follow. Somewhat out of the ordinary, Teresa went to each person and gave them the agenda sheet. When I got mine I saw in bold letters, ‘Does Talcum Tom know the difference between talcum powder and itching powder?’

‘Talcum Tom’ was O’Malley’s nickname. He was so large that his legs often chaffed if he had to do any significant amount of walking. So before he put his uniform on for each shift, the last thing he did was to sprinkle talcum powder over his crotch and between his legs so prevent the chaffing.

Talcum Tom was sitting in the first row as the meeting started. Harry began to talk, but the squad was watching Tom. After two minutes we saw his hand gradually go to his crotch and scratched a little bit. Seconds later he did it again. One of the guys started to laugh but stopped when the Harry looked at him. It soon became obvious that Talcom Tom was in agony--the back of his neck was beet red and sweat was rolling down. He suddenly stood up and roared, “God damn it to hell” while his hands assaulted his crotch. The squad room was laughing tears and then Tom realized that the females officers were watching him scratch his balls. He ran from the room.

Harry asked, “What the hell is going on.”

That started the second round of laughing. One of the cops waved the sheet at the Harry who read it. He kept a poker face for a moment, and then he started laughing. Harry finally said, “OK you assholes, start the shift.”

Laura and I walked through the room on the way to checking out a car. The talcum powder jokes were already starting. O’Malley was not in sight.

We got into the car and I said, “Laura.”

She answered innocently, “What?”

I said, “You know what.”

Laura grinned and said, “Teresa gave me the extra master key for the locks in the men’s locker room. It’s empty during third shift, so making the switch was easy. Teresa printed up the agenda. Tom’s agenda didn’t have that one extra line.”

The kissing joke era was over for everyone but me. I couldn’t forget the kissing.

Laura and I had been teamed up for six months now. Harry called us into his office. He obviously was upset, but got right into it. The mayor’s son had his leg broken by the goons of a local loan shark. The mayor was outraged which meant the police commissioner was outraged which meant that the captains…and so on.

Harry said, “The loan shark guy has been doing it for twenty years. He is two bit, but we never get complaints about him. His goons are above average; they scare, but they never put people in the hospital. Witnesses said that the kid actually took a swing at the goons and broke his leg trying to run away.

“It doesn’t matter. We are supposed to spy on him for a month to see who works for him and catch him in anything else he is doing, and then bust him. You two win the prize.

“Collection day is every Friday night at the loan shark’s night club. It is a high class bar and dance room that is very popular. People come and go all night which is how he gets his business done.

“For the next four Friday nights spend the evening there and watch who talks to him. We will show you pictures the next day and you can point out the people who talked to him. After a month of that, we will arrest him and anyone else we can prove is associated with him. At most he gets maybe six months. What a waste of time, but that’s the orders.

“If there are no questions, have fun dancing. Central is paying for your booze on this one, so drink the expensive stuff.”

The following Thursday Laura and I talked logistics. We finally decided that I would pick her up at her house and from there we would drive to the club. She had checked out the club with her friends; she confirmed that it really was a classy place, and that we had better dress appropriately.

Friday night came and I rang the doorbell at Laura’s house. The door opened and her father said, “Come in Joe, she’s still getting dressed.”

We talked about the good old days until I heard her coming down the stairs. I looked at my partner and froze. She was wearing a black form fitting dress cut down to the mounds of her breasts; two skinny straps connected to the material…if they broke she would be topless. The dress ended at mid thigh showing more leg than it was hiding. I was looking at more skin than clothes. She said defensively, “Well it is a high class place.”

I stammered, “Hey, no complaints here.”

Mike said, “The job sure has changed from my days.”

I said, “Laura we better get going.”

Mike said, “Joe, keep your hands above the waist.”

Laura blushed violently red and said, “Dad, you are a dirty, old man.”

I repeated, “Laura, we better going.” And we left.

We arrived at the club and the valet took the car. We walked into the place and it was pretty crowded, but not full. I spotted our loan shark and saw an empty table not far from where he was sitting. I led Laura over to the table and we settled in. The waitress took our drink order—the good stuff just like the sergeant ordered—and relaxed. We had our first sip when I thought of something. I leaned over to Laura and whispered, “Are you carrying?”

She said, “Yes.”

I asked, “Where?”

She grinned and said, “If you find it, I’ll slap you silly.”

There was no good answer to that, so I said, “Let’s dance.”

We stood up and walked by the loan shark. He was doing a crossword puzzle at the table. Two big guys sat with him looking bored to death.

It was a slow song and as we reached the dance floor, she came into my arms. Her head rested on my shoulder. Her hair smelled wonderful and as she relaxed, her breasts pressed into me. I thought, “What a way to make a living. She is beautiful.”

A mind reader: She looked at me and grinned, and then returned her head to my shoulder.

The song ended. We started back to the table. As we reached the loan shark I heard him say, “Five letter word for connection; do either of you idiots know what the answer is?”

I heard Laura say loudly, “Nexus; it means a connection.”

The loan shark looked up and said, “Why thank you very much pretty lady. It has to be that because I needed something with an ‘X.’

As we sat down Laura said, “We are here for a month so we might as well get familiar.”

I had my doubts until minutes later the loan shark yelled to Laura, “Eight letter word meaning dull.”

Laura thought for a second and yelled back, “Lethargy.”

The loan shark looked down and then yelled back, “That’s it.”

The next round of drinks the waitress said was on the loan shark.

We danced all night. By the last dance we had progressed from hand to hand to Laura’s arms around my neck and my arms around her back…maybe closer to her ass than her back. I had an erection or two or three; Laura obviously felt me, but politely ignored my reoccurring difficulties.

In between dances the loan shark yelled the crossword clues and Laura usually had the answer. We were one big, happy family. We did, however, watch who came up to the loan shark so that we could recognize their picture the next day. We were working after all.

I carefully drove Laura back to her house. It would be a disaster if two on duty police officers were pulled in for DUI. I walked her to her front door. I looked at her and seeing no better option, leaned over and kissed her. She returned it.

The next day we looked at pictures and pointed out the people we saw the night before.

The week passed quickly. We were on normal street patrol.

Friday came and I was ringing Laura’s doorbell again. Mike opened the door and said, “Come on in; she is still dressing.”

We talked cop talk for a few minutes and then I heard Laura come down the stairs. I turned and looked and for the second Friday in a row, I stared. It was a dress…kind of. The top part of her dress showed bare shoulders and some halter top to cover her breasts. Then skin showing her slim, tight muscled stomach; finally more material starting at her waist and stopping mid-thigh.

She said, “Dad, don’t you dare say a word. Joe and I are on duty, and this dress is part of the job. So don’t be a smart ass.”

Mike looked at her and said quietly, “You are beautiful; just like your mother.”

I said, “We better get going.”

For the first five minutes of the drive Laura was quiet; her dad’s words had gotten to her.

We walked into the club. It was full so we stood at the bar and had our first drink. The loan shark was at his normal table. We talked for a while and then I felt a touch on my elbow. It was a waitress. She said, “The people over there are leaving and the owner has reserved the table for you and your date. When they leave, I will get you.”

Minutes later we were sitting at the table next to the loan shark. He grinned at us and said to Laura, “I’m stuck; four letter word and the clue is ‘brief passing words.’ ”

She stopped and thought. Finally she grinned and said, “Obit.”

He looked at his puzzle and nodded. He raised his voice and looked at the two bored men sitting with him and said, “The lady has the right answer again, you idiots are worthless.”

We ordered a second drink and I asked Laura to dance. We made it to the dance floor and she came into my arms once again. This time my right hand felt nothing but bare skin. Mr. Erection came back in force; it would be a long night, but someone had to do it.

It was the last dance. Her arms were around my neck; my hands were on her back pulling her to me. My erection was pushing against her pelvis, and maybe, I thought, her pelvis was pushing back.

At her front door the kiss lasted much longer.

Two more Fridays of bliss. Two more dresses; each as daring. Our last Friday came and Laura was back to a two piece dress leaving everything bare between her breasts and her waist. The table was now reserved for us; our club was fun, and our dancing almost sensual. Laura continued to help out our loan shark with his crossword puzzles.

I walked her up to her front door on that last Friday after a night of fun. She turned and looked at me. We kissed; her arms around my neck, my hands on her naked back. And then my hands took over; sliding up her bare sides until I reached her breasts. My hands cupped her breasts, my thumbs lightly pressing her nipples through her halter top. She broke the kiss and stared at me. Moments later, she brought her mouth back to mine again. Our tongues dueled for the next three minutes—my hands gently squeezing her proud breasts; my thumbs exciting her nipples for those same three minutes. Reluctantly remembering Mike’s words, my hands stayed above her waist; I never found her gun. We finally said good night to each other.

The Monday following the last Friday, Harry called us into the office. He said, “Your job is done. We know everybody who works for him because of your work. But don’t be surprised if nothing happens. The mayor’s son was busted last night for hit and run and DUI. He would make a terrible witness against the goons who broke his leg and the whole thing smells. My guess is that we will let the loan shark alone.

“Since you are both here, I’ll give you your reward for a job well done—that booze bill you submitted to Central for expenses would choke a horse. We have two prisoners that need to be picked up at Rolling Water Prison. They are both punk teenagers caught on possession. They made a deal that if they testify against the distributor; their time is cut in half. We agreed. They need to be in court tomorrow at one o’clock.

“You and Laura fly down this afternoon and bring the prisoners back on the morning flight. Teresa already made the plane and room reservations. Joe, this time drink the cheap stuff—Metro West is paying the expenses on this one. ”

We each headed home to pack and agreed to meet at the airport. Things went fine—the plane was on time; we landed on time; and the motel actually had our reservations.