index


Message-ID: <53031asstr$1139213401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 6 Feb 2006 04:28:41 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/0.2
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: f14g2000cwb.googlegroups.com; posting-host=24.174.32.144;
   posting-account=lQ9acQ0AAABJInUbzelvor2A2ilH0RcZ
Subject: {ASSM} Finding Elvis Chapter 05 (MF, MFF, Slow, Romantic Thriller)
Lines: 556
Date: Mon, 06 Feb 2006 03:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

A Hawk Romantic Thriller. A romantic thriller that starts slowly, but
the passion builds as the plot unfolds. Homicide detective Lieutenant
Shauna Hawkins is in Vegas with her friends Ted and Lisa and has to
find out just who got married last night. As a lesbian, that might be
awkward. A series of dead bodies makes it a lot more serious. This has
a real plot and three dimensional characters. It's more than just a
wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


Chapter 5: When it rains
(c) 2006 by Wine Maker


I was still in shock when Gretchen leaned over, took me into her arms
and held me. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I never thought... I never
thought this would really happen. It was just supposed to be a joke."

My thoughts ran around the inside of my head, like a dog chasing its
own tail; going nowhere, but getting there really fast. I covered my
eyes with my hands and pulled myself together. I needed to think,
clearly and logically. Leaping up and trying to run away from this
would be worse than useless, and panicking would solve absolutely
nothing.

I took a deep breath. "I know," I said simply. "Neither of us thought
this would happen to us, but it did."  I fought down the frustration.
"Frankly, neither of us thought, period.  I knew that guy who bumped
into you was probably trying to steal something, but it didn't dawn
on me that it might be the license. I should have come back to help
you. I should have been more concerned about that bump, and more
suspicious of him, even if I didn't think he had a reason to be up to
something, much less run. God! Who puts two doors going into a
_bathroom_ of all places?"

With another deep breath, I uncovered my eyes and looked at the woman
holding me. Her eyes dripped tears slowly onto my shoulder. Forcing
myself to relax my taut muscles, I wrapped my arms around her and held
her. "This isn't the end of the world. Shocking, surprising, yes, but
fate sometimes plays tricks on those of us who think we're clever.
That's us, by the way. You should have known better than to play this
game. I should have known better than to let you, but I allowed my
desire, for your body, and for you, to overrule my brain. This is my
fault as much as it is yours."  I frowned to myself.  Why had I made a
distinction between Gretchen and Gretchen's body?  I filed that tidbit
away for the moment.

Gretchen rested her forehead on my shoulder, missing my subtle
distinction. "What do we do now, Hawk?"

I kissed the top of her head. "We pick ourselves up, and we sort
ourselves out. I guess that conversation in Vegas was a bit prophetic:
now that we're here, married, we both already know that we'll try to
make this work. Right?"

There was a flutter in my stomach as she looked back up at me. I didn't
know if I wanted her to back out or not. I was afraid she would say
'yes,' and maybe even more afraid she'd say 'no.' I really didn't want
to examine those feelings right now.  I had said I would try, so dammit
I would try. If she said 'no,' then...

Gretchen raised her head and nodded. "I don't quit. You're right, this
isn't a disaster. I mean, it's not like one of us is pregnant or
anything."

"Right," I laughed. "That would be a little much, all things..." A
vision of that split condom on the bed in Vegas flashed through my
mind. A moment's consideration and I dismissed the odds.

My hesitation was short, but not short enough. Gretchen's eyes widened.
"You don't think..."

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "No," I said firmly. "I don't
think so. Ted always used condoms. He's a thoughtful gentleman."

"Oh, Hawk," Gretchen said, pulling back and giving me a serious look
from across the seat, "condoms are good, but they aren't a one hundred
percent barrier. You're on the pill, too, right? You use spermicide?
Condoms sometimes break or leak."

"Well, no. I react funny to the pill, and it never seemed like
something I'd have to consider, until just recently," I admitted. "I
tried taking them to regulate my period for a while and gave it up. And
spermicide tastes nasty, doesn't it? I wouldn't do that to my sexual
partners. I don't even remember having sex the night before I met you,
and that's the only time I've even seen a broken condom. Even if it
_was_ in me, the odds of getting pregnant are..."

"One per customer," Gretchen said as she rolled her eyes and shook her
head. "That was what, six days ago? That might be long enough for an
over the counter pregnancy test."

"I don't need a test," I objected. "You and I have more important
things we need to be doing."

"No," Gretchen said firmly. "More pressing, perhaps, but never more
important than life. I'm invoking my spousal privilege. We get this
checked, and we get it checked now, not later."

"Spousal what?" I asked suspiciously. "What the hell is that?"

"Well," she began reasonably, "we've already established we're married.
If one of us has something important going on, the other has a right to
know about it. Besides," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "since
you're the one that might be pregnant, that obviously makes you my
wife. So as the husband, the head of our little family, I get to..."

"Oh, no you don't!" I half yelled. "You _are not_ getting over on me so
easily. You aren't my _husband_ and you aren't in charge of this
relationship! I _do not_ concede 'alpha' status to you. You can be
the wife and _I'll_ be the husband."

She pulled out a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes dry,
laughing. "Now I know we'll be okay. If we were to go by money or
social status, I'd still be the senior partner," she held up a hand
before I could speak, "but you're right. None of those kinds of things
can matter between us.  Neither one of us can be in charge. We're
either going to be partners, or this won't work." She smiled with that
twinkle back in her eyes. "But, I'll still tease the hell out of you
about it. In public when I can."

"You can take the money and that social crap and toss it right out the
window," I retorted with a small smile. "I don't need your money _and_
I settle social issues with a taser."

A tiny smile that mirrored my own flitted across her face.  "Well, if
you're my wife, then guess what? My money and my social status are part
of the package. The flip-side is that, as your wife, I have to deal
with you being a cop. I've watched enough TV to know that isn't easy,
but I accept that you being a cop is part of your package."  She looked
at me with an intensity that made me squirm, and I suddenly realized
that Gretchen and had done something important, something exhilarating
and terrifying and utterly wonderful; we had come to an understanding.
I wanted to hold this moment, savor and extend it, but Gretchen
wouldn't let me. "It's okay, though, Hawk," she told me, "I know all
about cops.  I watch _Law and Order_." One look and I knew she was
serious.

"Dear God, help us," I moaned and covered my face with my hands again.

"What?" she asked indignantly.

-----

I argued a little more about taking the test, but it was just a
formality. Call it reflexive resistance. Gretchen had already won this
round, and I was going to get a test. It couldn't hurt because I wasn't
pregnant, so I figured it was best to just give in, get it done and
move on to more important things.

Gretchen insisted on getting that crappy car back to Dio's lot and
having Devon meet us first, though. With all that was going on, I had
forgotten how bad it was in this car. She could have this round, too. I
didn't even _try_ to argue about getting rid of it.

Devon was waiting at the lot, chatting amiably with his cousin. When we
pulled in and the car wheezed to a halt with a clatter, he looked in
the window, his eyes wide with shock.

"Jesus wept, Dio! How you give dem dis... dis ting?" Devon demanded of
Dio. "I give dem my good word!"

Dio held up his hands. "Dey say dey want low end. It don get more low
end than dat! Dey could always tell Dio no."

I climbed out and gave the door a good slam. Rather than closing, it
bounced back open and fell onto the ground with a crash. I considered
giving it a kick, but I was afraid the whole thing would fall apart.
Turning to Dio, I shrugged. "Sorry."

Both men burst out laughing. They were laughing so hard, they were
holding each other up. I rolled my eyes in disgust before stomping past
them and into the warm office. Gretchen followed me in and headed right
for the restroom.

"I'll be back. I need to ritually cleanse myself. We'll end up owning
Devon _and_ his cab with the fares we pay before I get into another
junker like that!" she said, defying me to argue.

Not that I had any intention of arguing. "Fine by me. We can lease him
or something. It would be cheaper than buying another car. Besides,
aren't we supposed to have a driver?" I teased.

"You only _think_ you're funny," she said and closed the door behind
her. Firmly.

The outer door to the building opened and the men, still laughing,
stumbled through. I laughed sarcastically back at them. "Ha, ha. Very
funny." Dio slid behind the desk and grinned at me while Devon parked
himself on the couch.

"Dat is _very_ funny," Dio insisted. "It was so funny, Dio won't even
charge you for de damage."

"Charge us for..." I sputtered. "You should be so lucky," I finally
laughed, shaking my head. "Gretchen is cleaning up, and then we'll be
on our way."

Still laughing, he returned the deposit, minus fifty bucks. Reasonable,
considering the car, I suppose.

When Gretchen came out, she smelled better. Not clean, but better. I
hoofed into the restroom and stripped off, doing my own whore bath. I
stopped dead at that thought and then shook my head. Gretchen and I
were going to have to talk about that business of renting herself, and
I needed to get _that_ word out of my vocabulary.

When I dressed and came back out, Dio was smoking a huge cigar and
listening to Gretchen and Devon talk. The two were seated on opposite
ends of the couch, facing each other.

"Three months," Gretchen said.

"Dat's too short to be worth all de hassle, Gretchen," Devon responded.
"Dere be a lot of disturbance to my life. One year."

"Six months," she countered. "We don't know how things will be until
then."

"One year," Devon said firmly, "but wit a one week trial period. If you
don't know by den, you not be de kind of woman I tink you are."

Gretchen pursed her lips as I sat on the edge of the desk and looked at
Dio. "What's going on?" I asked him.

"She be hiring Devon to drive de two of you around," he said with a
shrug.

"For a year?" I asked incredulously. "We won't be in Boston nearly that
long. I have a job in Houston."

Gretchen looked at me and with a smile that was pure defiance, she
nodded. "Done. You start now, Devon. We'll be picking up a car, and you
can drop your cab back off at the, um, place where cabs go."

"Gretchen!" I screeched. "What are you doing?"

She smiled lazily at me. "Hiring a chauffeur. We'll be needing one."

"For a year?" I demanded.

"At least," she said seriously. "Though we still haven't talked about
the little details like who will move where and how we're going to
manage living together. Oh," she said with a smile, "I went ahead and
told them we were married."

I choked and resisted the urge to strangle her. "You what!?!"

Gretchen held up a hand. "Stop. Part of you has it accepted it, but you
need to get this through that stubborn head of yours. For better or
worse, we're married, and I'm not going to hide it from the world. I
mean it. This'll get out even if we say nothing, and I refuse to
cower from the world. I take the lumps for what I do. Isn't it worth it
to you?" Her eyes weren't teary now. They were hard and bright. She was
pissed off.

I bit back the instinctive response and shook my head, backing down.
She was right.  "I didn't mean it that way. I still haven't thought it
through that far," I got off the desk and moved to her, "but I'm not
ashamed of you."

"Good!" she said perkily as she bounced up from the seat. "Then to get
back on subject, we will have to have a driver wherever we move."

"Why?" I asked. "Neither one of us had one before."

"Neither one of us was married before. Now that I'm settled down, I
need a driver," she insisted. "Besides, you told me we needed one just
a few minutes ago."

"I was joking," I groaned.

"Well, I'm not," she said with a saucy smile. "Now, Dio, if you will
excuse us, Hawk and I have a lot to do and a short time to do it in."

-----

Devon drove us to an upscale rental place, and Lisa swished inside to
rent a car. When the attendant pulled up with a black H2 Hummer, I
shook my head. Low profile was not in my friend's personality. My
wife's personality, I corrected myself with a self-conscious smile.
That was going to take some getting used to.

Devon walked around the Hummer and whistled appreciatively. "Dis is
very nice! I tink Devon will like driving you around." He popped the
door open and looked at the instruments. I would have mocked his male
habit of looking over the hardware, but I was too busy craning my neck
to peer past his shoulder for a look myself.

Gretchen popped out of the front door to the rental place and waved us
inside. "Come on. They need your information so you can drive that hunk
of metal."

"Why a Hummer?" I asked as we stepped into the classy lobby.

"I never miss a chance to thumb my nose at convention, and here in
Massachusetts wasting gas is a sin. I," she said with a grin, "am a
sinner with a capitol 'S'."

We handed the nice young man our licenses and in fifteen minutes, we
were done. I followed Devon while he drove his cab back to the cab lot.
He pulled up to the building and took a few minutes to show off his new
toys to the men there. That would be the Hummer, us and his new salary.
Men.

Eventually, the manly chest-beating ritual was done and Devon strutted
to the driver's door. I climbed out and shook my head at him impishly.
"So, were they more impressed with the car or with Gretchen?"

"What do you tink?" he said through a grin as he buckled in.

I climbed in the back, and Gretchen joined me, stopping to adjust her
sandal strap to the awed stares of her crowd of new fans. I could tell
that she was gently shaking her ass at them before she stood up, as
though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

Gretchen smiled at me and looked at Devon through her eyelashes. "I
think I know what they admire more now." She looked back at me coyly.
"Your ass. I carry it around, but it's yours. Shall we make out in the
backseat while Devon drives us to the pharmacy?"

"Pharmacy?" Devon asked, looking at us through the mirror. "Is one of
you sick?"

"No," I said firmly. "It would just be a waste of time anyway. We've
got a lot to do so let's just go to the next item on our list,
Gretchen."

She shook her head. "Oh, no you don't. We have things to do, alright,
and we've already been through this. The pharmacy first, and then off
to see Daddy." Gretchen slumped into her seat. "If I can face him and
tell him what happened, you can humor me in this one thing."

"What one ting?" Devon asked as he pulled out onto the street like a
tank, dominating the road.

"Never you mind," I said waspishly. "Girl stuff." Deep down, I felt the
small voice of fear. I didn't want to face the possibility that I was
pregnant. That would be a disaster of the first order. If I thought
some segments of the lesbian community had rejected me for sleeping
with Ted, that would be only a mild shockwave compared to the nuclear
blast I would face if they found out I was going to have a baby. Thank
God that was so unlikely.

-----

I wasn't so sure twenty minutes later when Gretchen was reading the
instructions on various over-the-counter pregnancy tests. She stood up
from her kneeling position, a grin of triumph on her face.

"This one says it can detect pregnancy six days after conception.
That's today if he knocked you up the night before we met."

I winced. "Can we try something else other than 'knocked up'? That
phrase makes me queasy."

"Sure, how about 'with child', 'expecting', or 'in the family way'?"
Gretchen grinned sweetly. "I've got it... You've got a bun in the
oven."

"You're a riot," I muttered. "Let's get this over with. I have more
important things to do than waste time on fantasies." I snatched the
box from her hand and stalked past her, ignoring her laughter behind
me. I laid the box on the counter and smiled a strained smile at the
woman pharmacist.

"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?" the woman with the tag that
identified her as Linda asked.

"A boy!" Gretchen answered before I could respond. "We'd like a big,
healthy baby boy!"

"I am _not_ pregnant! Geeze! Why does everyone want this but me?" I
complained, tossing money on the counter to pay for the test kit and
stalking toward the ladies room. Gretchen skipped, _skipped_, along
behind me and snatched the box back out of my hand.

"I get to read the instructions!" She said, ripping the box open and
handing me the contents. "It says you pee on it and then close the
little cover. In you go!" Gretchen shoved me into one of the stalls and
I almost fell over the toilet.

"Gee-zus, woman. Will you calm down? You're getting all excited over
something that _isn't_ going to happen," I said as I dropped my
trousers and sat on the can.

"Midstream," she advised me through the door. "Get a clean hit in the
middle of the stream!"

Muttering imprecations, I doused it and closed the cover. I then stared
at it while I finished my business. "What am I looking for here?"

"If it stays clear after three minutes, you're not pregnant."

After an hour, I looked at my watch and two minutes had passed. So far,
so good. It was looking clear. Wait... Was that a line? No, it was just
a smudge on the paper. Right?

"Ohmigod!" I felt my stomach fall through the floor. "A fucking line."

"Woo Hoo!" Gretchen squealed. "I'm going to be a daddy! I need cigars!"

"You are not the freaking daddy!" I shouted. "Geezus, I am not the beta
in this marriage!"

"Hey, all I know is that mommies get pregnant, daddies get to brag and
I'm bragging!"

Was she dancing out there? She was! The woman was _dancing_ over the
worst disaster I could have imagined. I put my head in my hands.
Pregnant and married. Dear god in heaven, what was I going to do?

"I can't wait to tell Daddy that he's going to be a grandpa!" She said,
rattling the door.

"Hold on, hold on," I said, cleaning off. When I pulled my pants back
up and opened the door, she yanked me out and spun me around squealing.
"How long till we know if we have a boy or a girl?"

"How the hell should I know? Months, I'm sure. This stupid thing is
probably broken. I'll test again later."

"Pessimist," Gretchen said, skipping back out the door and into the
pharmacy. The pharmacist quirked her eyebrows and Gretchen gave her the
thumbs up. I almost went over to beat her up when she started clapping.

"Do we have to do this?" I complained. "I don't want to do the
happy-happy, joy-joy dance."

"Shut up and get out to the car, Little Woman. I get to do my dance
cause I'm married and gonna be a _daddy_!" she crowed.

I pulled my hair and almost ran out to the Hummer. I slammed the door
behind me and locked the doors. "Don't you dare unlock the door,
Devon."

Gretchen tried the door and squawked in protest, knocking on the glass
and demanding entrance.

Devon raised an eyebrow. "Don you put Devon in de middle of your
lover's spat! Let de poor woman into de car!"

With a scowl, I unlocked the door. "Nobody better give me any shit
about this."

"Devon! I'm gonna be a daddy!" Gretchen said with a grin as she climbed
in. "I need a box of cigars! Go to a place that sells good ones."

"Congratulations! Devon take you der right away!"

"This is out of control! Let's just let this go and pretend it never
happened," I begged. "I should never have agreed to that stupid test!"
I felt the edge of something. A feeling I rarely experienced. Panic.

Gretchen stopped and put her arms around me. "Shhh. It's okay. I'm
sorry. I'll cut back." She held me as the shakes finally came over me.

"Oh god, Gretchen!" I sobbed onto her shoulder. "This can't be
happening! I'm not ready for this! I don't know how to have a kid!"

Gretchen rocked me slowly and whispered comfort into my ear as I cried.
I felt the car stop, but didn't pay it any mind. By the time Devon got
back in the car, I had cried myself out. I felt drained, empty.

"Go to this address," Gretchen said to Devon, handing him a card. "And
let's ease off on Hawk for a bit."

Devon nodded and started driving. Gretchen handed me some tissues and I
tried to clean up.

"I don't know what to do," I told Gretchen. "This scares me like
nothing else ever has. What if I screw up?"

"Then you'll be like every other parent out there," she said and
blinked in surprise. "Well, I guess Daddy and I do have some talking to
do."

-----

The drive to the estate was quiet as we all were examining our own
thoughts. When the Hummer pulled up to a massive stone and steel gate,
I forced myself to focus on what was happening around me. There was
time enough to panic later, in private.

Gretchen told Devon the code to punch in, and the gate swung open
ponderously. The sculpted drive made all the ones I'd ever seen in
movies pale in comparison. Then the house came into view. Dear god, it
_was_ a mansion. It was huge. Huge and elegant, with the kind of aura
that only age and money can give a pile of rock.

Devon parked in front of the wide stone steps and opened the door for
Gretchen. I slid out behind her and straightened my coat.

Gretchen walked up the steps and was almost to the door when it opened
on its own. I gritted my teeth when her evil stepmother came out onto
the broad porch of stone. This was all I needed.

"Well, well," she sneered. "The tramp and her common little friend. You
just turn right on around and get off our property. You're not welcome
here."

Gretchen tensed up, but I pulled her back before she could tear into
Kat.

"Don't even start," I warned her. "Today has been the day from hell,
and if you say one more thing, I'm not responsible for the bodily harm
that befalls you. I _mean_ it."

She chuckled in a throaty kind of laugh that just dripped contempt.
"You think because you're getting paid like this whore it makes you
something? You're trash and will always be trash."

I took a deep breath and half turned to look at Gretchen. "See how
lucky you are that I'm here to keep you from doing something
precipitous?" Then without further warning, I rabbit punched Kat right
in the gut.

With a whoosh of air, she doubled over and I grabbed her by the lapels
and dragged her face to within an inch of mine.

"That's my _wife_ you're talking about, bitch. Keep a civil tongue in
your head or I'll teach you a lesson that you'll never forget," I said
in a voice so cold I was surprised her hair didn't turn into icicles.

Kat's eyes widened and she struggled for breath. "No! You can't be!"
She grew so pale I thought she would faint. Good. She yanked herself
away and rushed back into the house like the hounds of hell were right
behind her.

I frowned. "I can be scary, but not that scary. What the hell is going
on?"

Gretchen snatched me into a hug. "You hit her! I'm _so proud_ of you!"

The sound of footsteps on the foyer floor pulled both of our attentions
as her father came into view.

"What in the hell is going on here?" he asked, a confused look
darkening his face. "Kat just ran up the stairs like she'd seen a
ghost."

Gretchen let go of me and held her father in an unexpected hug. "Oh,
Daddy. I have such great news!"

He blinked in surprise, but his arms wrapped around Gretchen, a look of
genuine pleasure on his face. "Tell me."

"We just got married and Hawk is pregnant!" Gretchen said as she kissed
his cheek.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+