ND/Oakland garden (U)

From Create Your Own Story

There's no time for clothes. If there's anyone there they'll be getting away. You grab your gun and go.

The garden seems empty when you get there. The rain is falling heavily, stinging your bare skin. Over the din you think you hear a noise to your right. You rush there in time to see a short man with a camera jump over the fence and disappear out of sight. Well there's no way you're going to follow him now. Somewhere beyond the fence a car starts up and hurries away.

You go back through the French windows, dripping water onto the hard wooden floor. Blondie doesn't complain. 'Who was it,' she asks. She's still naked, but somehow the sight doesn't do anything for you.

'Don't know,' you say, dressing quickly. 'Whoever it was, he was gone by the time I got there.'

'But there was someone out there?' she asks.

'Yes. And he was out there long enough to see everything going on in here and take some photos while he was at it.' If you expect her to blush you are very much mistaken. She doesn't give any reaction beyond furrowing her brow. 'Who would want to do that?' she asks.

'How about your husband?' you say, putting on your jacket. 'If you're right and he wants to get a divorce, maybe he's doing the same as you and getting proof.'

She smiles without any humor. 'Trust me,' she says, 'he's got plenty of that already. He wouldn't have to snoop around.'

You shrug. 'I'm out of ideas. Could be anyone. Could be Harry Truman for all I care.'

She looks sharply at you, only now noticing that you're dressed. 'You're not leaving are you?'

Boy is this dame a piece of work! 'Yes,' you say, 'I'm leaving.'

Your tone stops her from arguing the point. 'Your clothes are all wet,' she observes.

'Yeah, they are.'

She comes closer to you and looks at you with suddenly earnest eyes. For a moment you catch a glimpse of the girl beneath the veneer. Small and unloved and hoping for something better. 'You could stay while they dry off,' she says, her voice soft.

You shake your head. 'Maybe next time, Blondie.' She stands on her toes and kisses you gently. When she pulls away the cool, hard smile has returned. 'Till the next time, brown-eyes.'

You leave her at the door, dressed in her robe and drive back to your apartment in silence.

(Not the end. Still adding stuff on)