Revenge

She was tired and needed chocolate. There was nothing unusual about it, except she couldn't find her hidden stash of Ho Ho's she kept in the right hand side of her desk drawer strategically placed beneath a copy of Southern Living, a sure deterrent to those who may be lurking uninvited. Concerned, she quickly opened the second drawer and removed the Wal-Mart purchased floral photo box noted for its ability to hold a "multitude" of pictures, only to find it completely empty. She sucked in a breath of air, "What the hell," she gasped. A second stash of miniature Crunch bars, Snickers, and M&M's (regular and peanut) were missing. She thought the photo box was a clever idea, discreetly containing and hiding the "multitude" of chocolate delights she was forbidden to eat. She felt heat rise to her face, and fire lit her eyes as she glared into the emptied box realizing Fritz had been in her office just the day before…alone! "Damn him,' she muttered, feeling like a heroine junkie deprived of an assured fix. She'd just bought it two days ago and now it was all confiscated, no stolen was the better word, right out from under her nose. She flung the box into the drawer and slammed it shut. He was already on her short list, now he only added to her percolating anger, which was threatening to boil over. Luckily, she heard the little voice inside her head that told her to solve the problem. With that she grabbed her big black bag and removed her change purse. She looked inside and was satisfied to see it populated with quarters, but took ten ones from her wallet, just in case. "I'll fix you Fritz Howard," she said out loud, in a vexing tone. "If I want chocolate then I'll have it anytime I damn well please."

She stomped from her office and down the hall only to meet Sergeant Gabriel at the doors to the Murder Room.

"Chief, you're still here. I thought you'd be gone by now," he said, surprised, holding the door open. "Are you alright…your face is bright red," he asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine Sergeant, it's a little hot in my office," she glanced away with the telling of her lie, but she didn't want to get into a discussion about Fritz. The lie was easier. "I'm just finishing up some paperwork, taking care of some loose ends is all." Which was true, but she failed to disclose the real reason for not leaving, which was facing Fritz after the enormous argument they had that morning, and the paperwork was a good excuse. She'd manage to simmer down through the day, but now she was all worked up again. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd be long gone, being the holiday weekend and all."

"I wanted to finish the interview reports on the Reed case. Remember I took Tuesday off," he said, hoping she recalled signing his request.

"I remember," she said, smiling, "taking a long weekend to see Irene."

"Yeah, flying out first thing in the morning," he said, "I've been missing her. I wish she was still here, but you know how much she wanted that Homeland Security position. She told me yesterday there's a chance she could be transferred to LA. Maybe it'll work out for us," he said with hopefulness, "It's been tough."

"Long distance relationships usually are," Brenda said. She couldn't ignore the hint of melancholy she heard in Sergeant Gabriel's voice, and felt a pang of sorrow. "It'll work. I'm sure Sergeant."

"Thanks Chief, I appreciate it."

"I can finish up whatever you have, just leave it with me," Brenda said, wanting a legitimate excuse for staying longer than need be.

"No, Chief, I would really like to see this through. It won't take me very long, and besides, I don't have anyone to get home to. I'm sure Fritz is expecting you. It's late," he said, looking at his watch.

Brenda paused, "Well, the offer stands if you change your mind. I have a few things to tie up myself," she said.

Brenda walked through the opened door hoping Sergeant Gabriel would think she was going to the ladies room. When she was sure he was out of sight she quickly made her way to the hulking vending machine. It was a sight to behold as she peered through the glass with enthralled anticipation. She felt her heart skip a beat or two in sheer jubilation knowing she was totally unrestricted in number and selection. She looked at her reflection, normally it was angst she saw there, but this time it was unequivocally glee. She felt it from head to toe having to hold back an intense urge to jump for joy, especially when she saw the Ho Ho's in the bottom right corner, H-10. The machine was a monstrosity, a beast, and it represented her greatest weakness in life, a continual reminder of sugar. It called out to her every single day, tempting her with sinful pleasures like some diabolical demon.

She pushed the quarters into the machine and felt a thrill go through her body, making her gasp out loud. She bought the remaining twin paks of Ho Ho's and heard them drop to the bottom. Shivers ran up her spine in excitement. Uninhibited, she shoved in more quarters and selected the Reese Cups, M&M's, Snickers, Milky Way, Butterfingers, Crunch, Kit Kat, Twix, and oh, the Heath bar H-1. She felt unrestrained, free and exhilarated as she pounded in the quarters, and then dollars, pushing buttons to her desire. She was elated and had worked herself into a euphoric fanfare, her heart beat wildly, and her breath came in fast puffs. She knew this was unadulterated madness at its worse. She shouldn't be indulging in such things, but she just couldn't help herself. She was passionate, fixated in the moment, lured by the sights and sounds, and any measure of self-control escaped her. With her last dollar bill loaded, she pressed A-1 and a Hershey's Skor fell with a plunk, it was over. She looked down at the candy resting in the bottom, sated, but now feeling guilty over her iniquitous behavior, and for heaven's sake, what if Fritz found out. She looked at herself in the glass and only saw the pain in her eyes this time. "Damn him," she muttered. She took off her blazer and loaded the plunder within its folds, sneakily carrying it back to her office. God forbid if Gabriel saw what she had been doing to that machine, or better yet, what that machine had been doing to her.

She dumped it all into her desk drawer, and with her enjoyment expended, lusting for chocolate had only left her despondent and heavyhearted since it was done in vengeance. If only he would've left her candy alone, she thought, she wouldn't be feeling this way. She reached into the drawer and picked up the Ho Ho, her twin-pak of happiness, and opened it up admiring the two as they rested on the white cardboard. Should she eat both? She decided on just one, after all she had to take care of herself, it was important. Fritz let her know this everyday of her life, more so lately and now he would just conclude she was a total failure with her sugar predilection. She cringed at the thought, as her cell phone lit up to the tune of "Take Me out to the Ballgame," she sighed, the coincidence going unnoticed. She was tired of hearing the song she'd ignored all day long, but now found herself opening the phone ready to face the music.

"Hello," she said, in a brusque manner.

"I've been calling all day. Why didn't you answer," Fritz asked, short and to the point.

"Don't start on me again. I'm tired of hearing how I don't take care of myself. I'm not a bad person. It's getting old Fritz." She was blunt, and the anger she'd tried to bury all day was making its way to the surface.

"I'm not telling you you're a bad person. Where the hell is that coming from Brenda? You're dreaming up things to be mad over… talk about getting old." He was just as brusque with her, hearing the bristle in his words. She remained silent, and he went on, "Are you coming home, or are you going to be there all night?" He meant to say it in a milder manner, but the acrimony in his voice was seething, and all he managed to do was fire her up.

"I have a few more things to do here Fritz. I have a job, and there are certain responsibilities that come with it," she was loud and shrill, her anger showing itself, "so I may have to stay a little longer than usual. Is that all right with you, or are you going to blow a gasket thinking I'm posing some sort of health risk to myself!" She could feel the burning in her face and the trembling of her body. She felt like a volcano spewing hot ash from its peak ready to erupt into a forever changing explosion.

He spoke in a low growl, trying to control himself, but the words came fuming, hot and penetrable, "You know what, Brenda. You're a fucking smart ass. Just get it through that thick skull of yours that I care about you, and I'm not going to stop caring, especially when you're carrying our child inside of you," he paused letting it sink in, "So when I ask you about coming home, I expect you to give me a definite time because I don't want you out all night, you need to be home resting." He knew he was digging his own grave since placing unacceptable demands on Brenda Leigh Johnson was about as smart as putting your finger into a light socket, a certainty you'd be kicked on your ass.

She was eleven weeks pregnant, and frankly, it had taken her by surprise. She was an intelligent person, and knew the consequences of not using birth control, but she thought her medical condition would prevent conception; in fact she depended on it. Before this, with one pregnancy scare, she had been thoroughly insistent for him to be more scrupulous with protection measures. After her diagnosis and the affirmation from her doctor that becoming pregnant was highly unlikely, maybe impossible, she took that as ninety-nine percent chance of it never happening. Fritz was all too happy to do away with the latex condoms which were not only a hassle, but kept him from feeling all of her in their intimate connection. She couldn't count the number of times he'd whispered in her ear how great she felt as he slid inside her, the only way it should be done he told her.

She was two weeks late and brought the pregnancy test kit home. He was so nervous hovering over it looking for the words that would appear in the rectangular window, to her dismay it was only one, "pregnant." She was nearly floored, and he was on cloud nine. She had too many self-doubts and no self-confidence when it came to bringing a child into the world. Put her in a room with a serial killer and ask her to get a confession, she felt at home, in her element, but ask her to change a diaper and she'd be inept, befuddled, this wasn't what she was good at and it scared the hell out of her. It kept her from being happy, the fact she distrusted her ability to be a mother.

His over the top reaction only annoyed her because he became the consummate mother hen. He questioned her on everything… what did you eat today, did you take your vitamins, how much sleep did you get, you're not sneaking chocolate are you? He even rummaged through her bag looking for candy he thought she was hiding. For someone who was already worried over their capability, he only added to it making her think she couldn't properly take care of herself and was intentionally doing wrong. With her hormones in overdrive, creating an illusion of clear mindedness, she reasonably justified her sensible and straightforward approach of unleashing her unmitigated fury.

"Fritz, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't do my job. I'm not an invalid. I know my body and what I need… and I don't need you HOUNDING me all the time." She could feel the steam coming from her ears.

"Is that what you think, that I just hound you? I do it because I care Brenda, not to hound you! So I'm really having a hard time understanding your anger when I point things out!" He exhaled in heated frustration.

"Fritz, you make me feel like I'm not doing anything right, like I don't care about our baby, and I'm sick and tired of it," she said, vehemently. She glanced down at the Ho Ho's in front of her, "Oh, and by the way, don't you ever, and I mean EVER get into my desk drawer again. Do you understand?" With her voice rising she went on, "Do you know what they do to thieves in some Middle Eastern countries…they cut off their hands. So I'm warning you, keep yours out of my desk," she said, venomously.

He was exercising his right to remain silent not wanting to incriminate himself, which was good in that she hit the nail on the head. When he finally spoke it was with viciousness, "Whether you like it or not Brenda, the child growing in you is a part of me, so I do have a right to take care of you. And as far as taking the candy from your desk, I took it. I'll admit it. I was only thinking of you and our baby. But instead of looking at it as something good, to keep you away from something that is bad, I bet you just went to that damn vending machine and loaded up. I bet you enjoyed it too Brenda, buying whatever you wanted having your little love affair." He was yelling heatedly into the phone, "So, taking the garbage from your desk…what the fuck does it matter anyway? You're going to do whatever you want to do, so go ahead and gorge yourself!"

She gasped, feeling the blow, not liking his vulgar terminology. She felt the tears spill from her eyes at his hurtful words, "You make me feel like a terrible person Fritz," her voice quivering, "and why are you speaking to me like this, you've never done it before. I'm going to be the mother of your child, for heaven's sake." She couldn't regain her composure and the words came out in a hysterical rant, "and you know, so I like chocolate, I can't help it. It's hard for me. Maybe I'm not good enough to be a mother. Maybe it's something I'm not capable of," she was yelling into the phone, "maybe this baby thing isn't for me, maybe I should've had it terminated." She wanted to hurt him and said the very thing that would do the job. He was quiet on the other end, rendered speechless.

Tears flowed from her eyes, and she wondered at the incredible depth she was willing to go in order to wound him, and now felt the weight of the world on her shoulders in guilt and sadness. Her emotions had been all over the place the last two months, so much she didn't recognize the person she was anymore. She needed to get a handle on things, for her husband and for her baby, and decided to start with an apology, "Fritz, I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," she stammered. He didn't respond, and she said meaningfully with a voice she could barely find, "I love you."

There was a long pause, "Yeah…right," he whispered, as if she were lying and then hung up in her ear.

She closed her phone and wiped her face feeling like a mess and knowing she looked it. Sometimes the words that couldn't be taken back were often stamped as an everlasting message on the heart, and she was beside herself thinking Fritz would never forgive her. She scrutinized the Ho Ho's sitting on her desk. Her stomach growled in protest as she plunged her finger into the creamy filling then put it to her mouth. It was a small taste of sugar, enough to satisfy. She picked up the chocolate treats and threw them in the trash deciding she was done with it, and then made a promise to herself that she would remove the rest of the sugar from her desk later. She shuddered at the cloud of doom that seemed to move over her. Her feelings were so intensified and off the charts she couldn't quite explain or understand it. Tears slid down her cheeks and she made no effort to wipe them away. She opened the rear door to her office deciding to steal away unnoticed in case Sergeant Gabriel was roaming the 6th floor.

Fritz closed his phone in the heat of anger, refusing to say "I love you." It was a first, just like using vulgar language with her, which he'd refused to lower himself in deference to her. But he was out of sorts and his patience was worn thin. She was difficult and he was having a hard time with it. The pregnancy was a big change for her…for them…and he could tell by her somber look that she was unhappy, and her words, like a knife shoved into his heart, had only confirmed it.

Couldn't she just be happy about it? He blinked back tears. He thought of it as a dream come true, but all he could see in her face was trepidation in disaster. He thought she'd get use to the idea, warm up, accept it and be happy, but it proved to be a monumental task for a stubborn inflexible woman, and he was tired. Why did she make things so hard? He pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He wasn't sure which way to take it, and he always had a clear plan in dealing with her bullheadedness. Maybe it was over between them and she'd have their baby aborted, and then he'd divorce her. Cringing at the thought, he nervously combed his fingers through his hair again feeling like pulling it out. He paced the kitchen trying to think. She had been impossible to live with the last two months, her moods swung like a pendulum, from one extreme to another. He could read her like a barometer, and when the lows brought stormy weather he adjusted accordingly, which meant extra patience needed, and when the darkened skies were chased away by the highs of a sunny disposition, she was back to normal with smooth sailing ahead. But lately, violent hurricane-like winds, the worst ever, blew in unexpectedly, and being unprepared he was left tattered and disheveled without a clue to where he stood. It's what happened today, the hurricane hit twice and he was frayed to the core, but the day hadn't started that way, in fact he thought the barometer was at its highest setting, brilliant and dry, not a cloud in the sky…

"Damnit," he muttered, jumping out of the shower. He took the towel from the hook putting it around his waist. Still dripping, he hastily made his way to turn off a rude, blaring alarm. The room was bathed in darkness and he was unfamiliar with the settings of the new clock. He sat on the bed and turned on the dimly lit lamp hoping he wouldn't wake Brenda, even though he doubted she could sleep through the sound of the persistent alarm. He heard her stir, "I'm sorry, honey. I'll only be a second." He finally pushed the correct button quieting the alarm. It was then he felt the searing heat of her body pressed tightly against him. It was shocking to the cool wetness of his skin, and he knew the warmth provided was more than the cocoon of covers she'd been surrounded in, especially with feeling the stiff peaks of her nipples as she slowly moved against his moist back. His arousal was instantaneous considering he'd been without her for the better part of two months. He'd given her the space she needed to adjust to the pregnancy, which required him to take several cold showers.

Her smooth hand gently moved up the length of his arm stopping occasionally to feel the definition of his muscles, absurdly excited, she pushed the pads of her fingertips over his strength moaning to the awakening need rising from his exuding virility. A drip from his wet head fell down the side of his neck and she captured it with her mouth licking her way up to his ear, "Do you have fifteen minutes to spare…for me, Fritzy?" Her breath was hot, her voice seductive. "Mmm…you taste so good," she said enticingly, her tongue touching the edge of his earlobe. Her arm moved beneath his and she slid her hand to his chest entwining her fingers in his hair, and then she pushed him closer into her voluptuous chest, hugging him tight. She took him in, the feel of his skin, the smell of his body, a light scent of Lever soap and the erotically powerful Fritz Howard pheromone.

"I can go in later. Practicing at the range. Annual weapon qualification." He spoke in short choppy sentences, breathless and barely audible. It was clear how much she thoroughly affected him in so little time. He could feel the blood surging through his veins with his quickened heart rate and he knew the temperature in the room had gone up three degrees from his body heat alone. He turned his head and looked into her simmering dark eyes. He could see the hunger in her flushed face, and an intense need fell over him to take her now, hard and fast, but he knew he must control himself.

"What are you going to shoot," she asked, kissing his ear. Her right hand pushed into his wet hair, as her left moved lower catching the beads of moisture on his skin to the towel wrapped around his waist. She grazed the edge of it with her finger and then quickly tugged it open exposing him to her. She peered over his shoulder, he was hard, well endowed, and she eagerly took him in her wet hand and began stroking, back and forth, and the groans coming from his throat only spurred her on. She would never reveal that he was the largest man she'd ever been with, why swell his ego too.

He was focused on her and what she was doing to him, and never thought about the ridiculousness of the question. "My gun…mmm..man.." he murmured. The stupendous feel of her hand nearly led to his undoing. He leaned his head back against her and closed his eyes enjoying the ascent which would end too soon, either by the removal of her hand or the explosion into it.

"Which gun," she asked devilish, kneading her hand with confidence knowing the places that gave him the greatest pleasure.

He chuckled, so this is where her questions were leading, "My 45, and believe me it's fully loaded."

"Are you threatening me Agent Howard," she said in mock disbelief, "mmm…assault with a deadly weapon." The chuckle behind her statement was telltale, and he seemed to like the sexual innuendo, at least he was making and effort to play along. "Maybe you just need to unload," she said with another devilish laugh. So she decided to provide more stimuli, and bit a path along his shoulder, grazing him with her teeth, and massaging him with her tongue. She was richly compensated by the guttural sounds rising from his throat

He finally said in a moan, "Brenda Leigh, you know better than to do this to a man who's been without you for so long. You better stop or it'll be over." He gasped when she squeezed harder, and then he whispered, "Is this the way you want it?"

She snickered into his ear, "I like it any way Fritz Howard, you know that. The question… is this the way you want it?" She planted hard wet kisses to the side of his rough unshaven face. He was breathing heavily and any droplets of water remaining on his skin had quickly evaporated. She was enjoying what she did to him. He was concentrating so hard, bringing a smile to her face as her hand worked its magic. She could tell he was close by the expression on his face, and the throbbing present in her grip.

His hand came up to her head slightly pulling her hair, getting her attention, "Bren, you need to stop now." His other hand clutched hers making an attempt to remove it. He sounded desperate with his dark eyes opened wide, perhaps saying it too late. She immediately let go so he could get command of his body.

He sighed in relief; glad it didn't end in the palm of her hand, especially since he let her go on too long. He took a few deep breaths to regain control, descending from the edge he'd been perched on. He felt the soft caresses of her hands over his back.

He turned to face her and was overwhelmed by her glowing beauty. Her body had changed since the last time they'd been together. Her breasts were considerably larger, with darkened nipples. Small blue veins could be seen within the paleness of her skin. It was quite obvious she was with child as her body was preparing for its' arrival. She had been rather shy around him the last few weeks. She never traipsed around naked after showers, or dressed in front of him anymore. She complained about her blouses being to tight, and her bras not fitting, but she never wanted him to see these things. It occurred to him now she was self conscious of her changing body. His eyes lingered over her breasts, and she put her finger to his chin and lifted his head. Apprehension was written all over her face, and he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Was she worried that he would think she was no longer attractive? She only looked more exquisite. He took her in his arms, and gently kissed her lips. "You are so beautiful, Brenda Leigh," he said into her ear, his voice breaking.

It was a long and pleasant opened mouth kiss. His tongue gently caressed and probed hers, relishing the taste. He moved her into his lap wanting better access to her body. His hand slid upward from her hip and gently cupped the ampleness of her breast filling it completely. He delicately rolled his thumb over her nipple, and was gratified by her whimper. He buried his lips into her neck, as her fingers pressed into his head urging him on. She was moving her hips closer to him in an attempt to engage his hardness, but he was holding her in place and only occasionally would he allow the heat of her to rub against his erection. "Not yet, Brenda Leigh," he mumbled.

She took his face in her hands, "I want you Fritz. I need you now," she said with a reckless glint in her eye. She thrust her hips into him aggressively, wanting to make the connection even if he was unwilling.

"Not yet," he said with a determined look, knowing he could easily plunge himself into her wetness. Her body was undulating against him as she shifted over his thigh demanding contact, "Fritzy, I need you now, give it to me" she croaked into his ear. He felt her wetness against his leg driving him mad, but he wanted to take his time making it last, savoring the moment. He put his arms around her feeling the heat radiating from her body, and the soft pinkness to her skin made his heart beat faster. The room was hot and a slight sheen of sweat covered them both. He put her on her back. He was on his side next to her with his weight on his elbow, and he gazed into her eyes.

She looked at him confused, two seconds ago he was all over her, and now he just stared, "Would you mind telling me what's going on. It's not really fair to get me all hot and bothered and then completely shut down. I'm expecting certain things here Fritz Howard, and I'm getting very frustrated." She furrowed her eyebrows and gave him a quirky look. All she needed was her black framed glasses to go with it, which melted his heart every time.

He smiled at her, "Need I remind you Ms. Johnson, you were the one who initiated this sequence of events. I'm slowing down the pace," he moved in close, inches from her, "and you should be so lucky that your husband thinks you are the most beautiful," he kissed her eye, "the most gorgeous," he kissed her nose, "the most sexy woman to walk the face of the earth." He put his forehead to hers and gently touched her lips with his, and flames ignited between them again.

He didn't know if it was shallow to be known as a breast man, but he couldn't deny it. For some men it was a woman's legs, or ass, or smile, or eyes, yet for him it was a woman's breasts that did it, and Brenda Leigh Johnson's were flawlessly magnificent. He was spending an inordinate amount of time handling and admiring those soft curves. He couldn't help it; she'd have to be patient. His hands caressed them lovingly, gently placing feathery kisses around and on top. His tongue swirled over her raised nipple gently sucking, and he could hear the slight intake of her breath. When he was sure he explored every inch, he pushed them together and pressed his face into them and then licked a path between, straight to her belly button. He dusted her baby bump, if that's what you'd call the slight rise to her abdomen, hardly noticeable to anyone else, with a sprinkling of kisses. He pushed her leg open, and ran his opened hand along her thigh, teasing her. He came to her and kissed her mouth, "Show me," he whispered, "what you want." She took his hand pushing it into the heat of her wetness. He couldn't believe how stimulated she was, his fingers were drowning as they probed the folds of her skin fondling her most sensitive area. His fingers slid back and forth, much like the motion she used on him earlier. Her eyes were closed and he intently watched the pleasure come to her face. Her breathing became quick and shallow, and she moved her hips to the movement of his hand, and suddenly it came upon her and she threw back her head and gasped his name. He kissed her deeply, and she hugged him tight as her orgasm ripped through her entire body.

She rested a moment in his arms and he gazed into her eyes, "Bren, you look so beautiful when you come." He smiled and chuckled, "Do you realize it only took 15 seconds?" It had never happened so fast before, and it took him by surprise. He wondered if it had anything to do with the pregnancy.

"It should make you happy, evidence of how you inspire me," she said, "And I'm ready for the next one." She pulled him into another mind blowing kiss. He moved over her as she willingly opened her legs, anticipating what was to come. He kindly lowered himself, and pushed into her and simultaneous groans of pleasure escaped from their mouths. She was hot and wet, and the folds of her skin surrounded him like a form fitting glove. He hovered over her, supporting his weight with his arms and before he started rocking he kissed her sweetly on the lips, "I love you, Brenda Leigh, and I'll never stop saying it."

He hoped she would come quickly since he knew he wouldn't last. She was just too hot and too tight, and he was making a very swift ascent. His pace quickened as she whispered dirty sentiments into his ear, knowing what it did to him. Her hips kept in unison as he pushed on, harder and faster sliding over her slick sweaty body the friction between them lighting them on fire. He felt the pressure building being milked by wet heat, and the feel of her fingernails clawing his ass. The deep moans coming from her only told him he was hitting the right spot, as they climbed together reaching for the pinnacle of release. He felt her body quake and knew it was upon her and he thrust one last time his body stiffened as he exploded inside her leaving his mark.

He collapsed, breathing hard trying to come back to himself. He rolled off her and gathered her in his arms and reverently caressed her head, entangling her soft blond curls through his fingers. He loved her more than anything, "I'm glad we did this Brenda. I've missed you a whole lot." He placed a tender kiss on her cheek.

"I've missed you too Fritzy. I'm sorry it's been so long," she said, sadly. Hearing her voice only made him hug tighter. He always enjoyed sex with her this way, leaving a part of himself behind, and with that thought he realized there was now a part growing inside her…

Being with her had never been better and then thirty minutes later after their showers the hurricane blasted through after he simply asked why she didn't make the decaffeinated coffee. She blew her stack making wild accusations. He tried to tell her that he only cared, that he didn't say she was a bad person or wasn't taking care of herself. She had jumped to conclusions. He ran his hands through his hair once again thinking of the extraordinary morning they had making love, and the words he said to her with such meaning were ringing in his ears, "I love you, I'll never stop saying it." He picked up his phone.

She was on the lower level of the parking garage making her way to her car when she heard her cell ring to Fritz' tune. "Oh please, I can't do this again Fritz," she mumbled out loud as she dug into her purse finding the phone. She was exhausted and there was no way she could withstand another argument with him.

She opened the phone, "Hello," she said, in her normal but tired voice.

"Brenda," he paused, thinking of the right words to say, "I just want to say, you know, that I love you. I didn't say it earlier and I just wanted you to know. OK." He could hear the tightness in his voice. Why did he feel so weepy all of a sudden, isn't that a woman thing? He tried to shake it off.

"Fritzy," she used her term of endearment, feeling sad as the looming dark cloud fell in step with her, "I know you love me. We just need to talk. I'll be home in twenty minutes, OK. I love you too," she said, hearing the pitiful sound of her own voice. She was about to spill into tears again. What was wrong with her?

"OK then, I'll see you in twenty," he said quietly, feeling worry in the pit of his stomach.

She closed the phone and made her way through the deserted garage. She noticed a navy blue conversion van with tinted windows parked next to her with its tires on the white markings giving her little space to her door. She thought it odd the only two cars on this level were side by side. She noticed the "protect and serve" sticker in the right window along with the "thin blue line" striped decal. She hit the key fob to unlock her car. She squeezed through the uncomfortable space hoping she'd be able to open her car door. Had she been in a better frame of mind, she may have been in tune to the peculiarity of the situation, but having Fritz on her mind she was intent on getting home. She heard the quick slide of the van door as it opened. Startled, she turned abruptly into the tight space dropping her cell to the concrete, but her reaction was too slow when she felt a tight grip and the sting of a stun gun as it zapped the side of her neck sending her into unconsciousness.