From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: Wednesday, May 23, 2001 11:39 PM To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Subject: Want Something Done - Do It Yourself
Hello, All. I usually write serious stuff, but this is a angst- ridden piece of fiction. Sometimes women have to act like the men. E-mail comments, good or bad to Javieress at [EMAIL PROTECTED] Tracy Vetter sat at her desk doing paperwork. ALONE, AGAIN. And where was her partner this time?, who the hell knew. Mr.Moody was probalby down at the Coroners Office swaping spit with The Doctor To The Dead. Tracy thought to herself "Men are never where they're supposed to be, and when they are around they act like complete idiots". Tracy's mind was reeling from yet another "not so enligthening " talk with you know who, Mr. Evasive himself. She should've learned her lesson by now. Vachon was always so casual about everything, especially relationships. He got to her, she knew it, and had finally admitted it to herself. But worse than that was that he knew he got to her too. Tracy knew Vachon loved watching her fume when he avoided her questions. When he did answer her about relationships, it was with some coy remark. She remembered the night at the cafe, when she and Nick were investigating the Maggie Dwyer Case. She had implied that "some women" think they are in relationships, although the men fail to even see a relationship in progress. He had just grinned at her and asked that if that was true , what could be done about it. She had been so angry, and frustrated, and about ten other emotions, that all she could say was "nothing", and get up and leave. What she had really wanted to say, or rather do, was kiss him like there was no tommorrow. She laughed inside, thinking that if she had kissed him, and more, there might not have been a tommorrow. Tonight she'd been at the church, like so many other nights, and they had just been sitting around, like so many other nights. He was playing with his guitar and drinking his dinner, while she watched him sipping a Cherry Coke. Watching him run his hands up and down the guitar's neck was making her crazy. What is it about his hands...and eyes...and lips? Losing the battle with restaint she blurted out for probably the one-millionth time "Vachon, do you ever think about a relationship"? He had looked up with a "deer in the headlights "look and mumbled"Uh... relationship?" She had thrown her hands up, "Yeah Vachon, a relationship!" He'd just stared at her. "Oh forget it" she'd said and stormed down the stairs and out the church door. When she got to work tonight it was no surprise that yet another man left her hanging, her wonderful, reliable partner. "Oh screw this, Nick can do his own paperwork for once"! She swung her chair out and ran out the door. Vachon heard her footsteps, heavy, sure steps, and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He stood just as she reached the top of the stairs. Usually she plops down on the sofa, but not tonight. Tracy walked right up to him and said "If you want something done, sometimes you have to do it yopurself"! Vachon cocked an eyebrow. "Trace, you okay"? He barely got the words out when she lunged forward and kissed him, the way she'd wanted to do so many times since the night they met. She stepped back, and feeling satisfied, very satisfied, she said "Okay, see ya". She walked, or maybe skipped out of the church, got into her car and headed home. Vachon stood frozen in time(ha ha), wondering what exactly had just happened. He pressed his now swollen lips together, and a wicked smile crossed his face. Tracy opened the door to her apartment, kicked off her shoes, flipped on the light switch, and suddenly noticed herself face to face with Vachon. "So, you just kiss me and leave, huh?" "Look Vachon...", but before she could finish his hands were cupping her face, his eyes burning a hole in her. She'd been so brazen earlier, and now she was putty. Vachon watched as Tracy turned the softest shade of pink, and thought to himself, "No wonder I love her so much". Hope you liked it. ************************************** See what's free at http://www.aol.com.
