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Out of Bounds (Unplugged)
Chapter 1.
I. Thank the Gods It's Friday!
"I have a clue for Seraphin," Drummond said, leaning back in his chair and pointing at the screen of his computer monitor.
"Whazzat, Baby?" Dolly replied, not really looking up from the manuscript she was translating.
"The Summer Solstice is June 21, not July 19."
"Oh. Are you reading about her party?"
"Yeah."
"You really should lighten up. She's just trying to arrange a little fun for everybody. It would be Christmas in July, but--joke or not--they do call us the Center for Xena Studies, and Xena celebrated Solstices... stisseye... whatever... So she's calling it Solstice in July. What's wrong with that?"
"It's just... sloppy. That's all," Drummond grumbled.
"Oh, get a life!" Dolly admonished him. "You really are too anal about stuff like that."
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say," Drummond mumbled and slapped the spacebar to bring up the next message.
Something in his tone of voice made Dolly's head come up. She slid her reading glasses down her nose and looked over the top of them at her lover. He could be so incredibly sensitive about some things--mild criticisms that anyone else would just slough off, he took as personal attacks.
She sighed and set aside her printouts and pen, tossing her readers on the cluttered surface of her desk. Standing and tugging her tight knit halter dress smooth over her luxuriant curves, she strode briskly across her office and through the open connecting door to his.
Standing behind his swivel chair, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her hands lazily and possessively on his chest, bringing her cheek next to his, letting him get a nose full of her scent. That'll get his attention. He loved that scent... Windsong, it was called.
"Hey," she said softly.
"Hey," he answered, taking one of her hands in his own and bringing it to his lips where he kissed the back of it with absent comfort and familiarity.
"What say we knock off early? We've got our checks. We could go downtown and go wild. Spend the night at the Hyatt. Blow a wad on something frivolous."
"Love to." He sighed. "Can't. I've got to finish this report for Terry on the Moose Jaw incident. Besides. Don't you have a band rehearsal tonight?" He looked up into her eyes and she was gratified to see his expression soften as he gazed at her. Then he grabbed the back of her neck with a strong, gentle hand and pulled her head down so he could kiss her. Somehow she walked around the chair and tumbled into his lap. They ended up necking for a few delightful moments. She got a guilty pleasure from letting him play with her body, and she knew it drove him into barely-restrained frenzies to touch her.
Then the intercom warbled and Terry Britten's voice came over the speaker. "Mitch, can you pick up, please?"
Drummond sighed. "Mother may I?" he asked Dolly under his breath. Echoing his sigh with one of her own, she arched her back over the arm of his chair to get her feet on the floor and eeled into a standing position as Drummond leaned across his desk to grab the handset of his phone and put it to his ear.
"Her timing is fucking perfect," Dolly said sotto voce.
Drummond grinned at her as he said into the phone: "Yeah, Terry, what's up?... I am.... Dolly?... She... she's working on her..." Dolly mouthed "translations" at him "... her translations. You know, the Xena Sutra thing."
"Never mind, Drummond," Dolly said quietly. "The mini-blinds are open. She can see us." The doll smiled and waved pleasantly across the central bullpen of the complex that made up the Center's Office of the Director. On the other side of the acre of cubicles, Terry waved back from her office.
The blinds. They had forgotten the blinds. They had been down in the TAT offices for so long, Down on the fifth floor, where there were real walls and some privacy to be had. Recently promoted and even more recently moved into these offices with their half-walls and corner-to-corner windows above, they were not yet used to thinking to close the blinds for privacy. Of course, closing the blinds would be, in itself, a signal of a sort.
"Right," Drummond said into the phone. "Um, yes. Sure. You got it. Right away." He racked the phone. "Listen, Baby, I..."
"I know. The Queen of the Slave Drivers wants that report on her desk Yesterday."
"Right."
"That's OK. I'm about translated out of it. I'm going to take a long lunch break. At Nordstrom's. You want me to bring you back anything?"
"Yeah," he said, reaching for his wallet. "You gonna be near an Izzy's?"
"I got it," she said, putting out a restraining hand. You haven't had a chance to cash your check, yet. I'll do mine while I'm out. What do you want?"
"Um, turkey salad on light rye? Mayo, lettuce. And an extra potato pancake?"
"Jayzus, Drummond!" The ejaculation exploded from her lips. "Didn't Dr. Brewster warn you about your cholesterol?"
"Aww, gimme a break," he pleaded. "They cook in peanut oil."
"Yah! One of those gut-bombs is bad enough! But two? Why don't you just have 'em give you the fat intravenously?"
"Oh, whatever. I'll live a long time, but I'll be miserable," he pouted.
"Oh, Baby. Don't do that. I only want you to be healthy. Besides, don't I give you enough guilty pleasure?" She wiggled her hips enticingly, her hands dangling overhead as her whole body shimmied to some inaudible music.
"Oh, you know you do, oh Pant O' Mine" miming the eager panting of a friendly dog. "More than any man should be allowed. You're hazardous to my health!"
"Oh, never, Baby. I'm so good for you!"
"That you are," he growled, reaching for her.
Just then the intercom warbled again. "Drummond! Get back to work!"
"Yes ma'am!" he shouted at the phone. "The blinds," he muttered, subsiding back into his seat, his sudden urge dispersed. "Gotta remember the furkin' blinds!"
Dolly giggled. "Anyway. I'm off. I'll be back by One, so don't go eating any candy bars."
"Yes, dear," he sighed. She laughed, a warm gray, throaty sound and leaned over to kiss the top of his head.
"Happy reporting," she said breezily as she wafted her way out of his office, leaving the scent of her floating on the air and on Drummond's mind for hours afterward.
Next: II. Grrls Who Lunch | Previous: Out of Bounds (Unplugged)