Judy and I laid on our stomachs as we looked into a broken window of the Delta Alpha Delta fraternity house, watching the activity that was occurring in the basement.

Doug and Tom were undercover as the McQuaid brothers, trying to rush into this fraternity. There had been reports that they were hazing their newcomers, resulting in college students dying from alcohol poisoning and even broken limbs that they refused to reveal where they got the injuries. The only thing they all had in common, was that they were either brothers of this fraternity or they were trying to rush to this fraternity.

Doug and Tom have been wearing wires for the past couple weeks, while Judy and I had to listen in with every interaction they had with the fraternity. Judy brought a notebook and she has been writing down everything they've been doing. They were in the thick of the hazing rituals. Judy and I were eating McDonalds in her cruiser when we heard Doug and Tom talking quietly about the case, then their screams. They were kidnapped, and brought to the basement of this fraternity house to begin the initiation into the brotherhood.

We were writing down everything we heard, and everything we saw. The first night, everyone had to learn a couple of chants and songs, but they practiced and performed the songs over and over. Sometimes they would pause to get their noses plugged and alcohol poured over their face and directly into their open mouths.

Judy and I rock-paper-scissored for who would be able to sleep first, and she won. She went back to the car to get some sleep while I pulled an all nighter. By the time she came back, the boys were still chanting. All their voices were hoarse, and it was painful to listen to all night. The only breaks they took were full of humiliation tactics and degrading actions.

"They're still singing?" Judy asked as she handed me a coffee. I don't like coffee, but I was going to need it if I wanted to stay awake any longer.

"Yeah—" I yawned so hard my ears popped. "They haven't stopped. Maybe for a water break here and there. Oh wait, no, they did take a break. They played clown music and the only thing the pledges were wearing were animal ears, walking around in a circle of nakedness while the rest of the brothers were watching."

"That's horrible." Her face twitched at the imagery.

"I know." I tried not to watch my coworkers, but it was nearly impossible. In the most appropriate way I can discuss what I saw, I can confidently say that Tom is packing.

"How is this not illegal?"

"I guess humiliating adults isn't a crime." I took a sip of the bitter coffee.

"How did Tom and Doug not get caught with their wires?"

"They were really careful taking them off."

"They put them back on? When they got redressed?"

"Yeah. They did a good job, I didn't even notice."

"How are they holding up?"

I paused for a moment. "They're struggling."

"They still haven't gotten any sleep?" She asked.

I shook my head, squinting through the broken window and seeing the boys all standing in a circle with the President of the fraternity in the middle of it and the rest of the brothers stood around watching. He held a baseball bat to intimidate them, and used a bullhorn to scream at them.

Under my breath, I mumbled, "come on... talk to me, Hanson."

"I don't think it's enough to bust it now," she said. Judy groaned then continued, "I just want to go in there and put a stop to this."

I sighed. "But we can't. We would probably both get arrested and we'd both be somebody's bitch. Hope you like jail."

Judy looked at me and asked, "we would?"

I shrugged. "Probably could catch us on a gross misdemeanor, trespassing, and some high degree of invasion of privacy. Stalking, maybe."

"I don't want to be somebody's bitch," Judy mumbled and turned her attention back to the window.

I chuckled and said, "Jenko better pull through with that warrant or we will be. I don't know how much more of this I can watch."

We had some food in the car that we snacked on as we continued to watch the process. Judy even brought out a big blanket for us to put over each other when it got cold. Eventually, I could hear a few guys complain about being hungry.

"Y'all are hungry?" The president, Chad, asked. I saw him walk over to a table and uncover a sheet to reveal lots of food. "You may get one piece of food each," Chad said. "But have lots of punch."

Tom and Doug were the first to head to the table, cautiously grabbing a slice of pizza that was offered and a red cup of punch. I saw Tom sniff the punch before he turned to Doug and I heard through my earpiece as he whispered to him, "it doesn't smell like punch. Smells like piss."

Chad waited for everyone to eat their one desired piece of food, before he uncovered another part of his game: a blender.

"Oh, god," I said. I already wanted to gag.

We watched as Chad created nasty combinations of cold coffee and pizza; blended donuts and greasy French fries; cheesy hot dogs and tuna fish; berries and milk since the milk will curdle in their stomachs; cereal with milk and orange juice; vinegar; spoiled beans; shots of salt water; each other's vomit; raw eggs and bacon fat; and more. Food combinations that could make you puke if you only smelled them. Most of it looked rotten too.

Chad forced the boys to drink all sorts of disgusting blended foods, and pretty soon the smell of puke wafted up through the broken window. Judy and I plugged our noses, forced to witness our teammates puke their guts out on the basement floor.

Ioki came by just to collect our notes from what we have witnessed. He's going to give them to Jenko, who is going to turn them into the judge so we can get a warrant.

The second night was my turn to sleep, so I went to the car and promptly fell asleep in the back seat. The next morning, I came back out and Judy informed me that they were forced to do push ups and pull ups and hang upside down until they passed out. They were forced to scrub the disgusting frat house toilets with toothbrushes. They were also viciously quizzed on the history of the frat, and if they got an answer wrong they were spanked with a wooden paddle and forced to drink liquor. Completely humiliating and demeaning.

"Should I call for back up?" I asked. From our hidden window, I could see the red welts forming on the skin of the men from the paddles. At this point, these men have nothing left to lose.

"There's only Chad that is enforcing all of this and a few other brothers," she said. "I think we have to wait until nightfall. We need that warrant."

"I hate all this legal tape," I groaned.

"Me too."

"Did Ioki get our notes last night?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

The boys were all forced into multiple drinking games, that no one was allowed to lose. They were all manipulated into thinking that it was the only way to show your loyalty to the brotherhood. Tom and Doug were exchanging helpless looks, knowing that they had to fully participate in it in order to stay undercover.

"This is your destiny, ass juice," Chad said while handing the concoctions to the pledges.

"Ass juice?" I repeated under my breath. I glanced over at Judy, and we exchanged similar expressions of disgust.

My headpiece was connected directly to Tom's wire and Judy's was connected to Doug's. Tom and Doug were practically leaning on each other. Tom's tired and slurring voice whispered, "anytime now, ladies."

"Tom thinks we should bust it now," I relayed the message to Judy.

Judy pressed her earpiece into her ear for a moment before she said, "and Doug says that everyone's liver is going to turn into soup before the night is over. But we don't have a warrant, we could bust it now and nothing will happen to those responsible."

"Damn," I grunted in frustration. "I wish they could hear us too."

"Me too."

I looked down at my plainclothes and Judy and I decided it was time to get into our uniforms. I went back to the car to change into mine before we switched. Judy took a nap for a couple hours as I watched the dreadful hazing continue.

Jenko stopped by to give us the warrant as soon as it got dark. He has been my dog-sitter the past few days while Judy and I were stuck here. Since this was the last night, he told me that he brought Pacino and put him in my cruiser so I could take him home. I didn't mind, because Pacino loves coming on cases with me.

Jenko left, and we waited for the opportune moment. Suddenly, I heard Chad announce, "okay, boys. It's been a productive three days, and you have one more test to prove your allegiance to Delta Alpha Delta. Y'all are gonna jump in the pool..."

"That don't sound too bad," Doug said to Tom loud enough for me to hear through Tom's ear piece.

"From the roof," Chad finished.

"Oh, no," I muttered.

"Oh, no," Tom said under his breath. They were both miserable, sleep deprived, exhausted, drunk, and begging for this nightmare to be over so they could finally go home.

"It's time," Judy said. We scrambled to our feet as the boys started to climb up a ladder that was in the basement, that led straight to the roof.

Judy ran around the house, while I ran around to the pool. I hopped the fence and pointed my gun up with my flashlight and yelled, "Metro Police! Freeze!"

I saw a head poke over the roof, looking down at me. It was a student who had just started crying.

"Don't jump," I ordered. I spoke firmly and clearly at the intoxicated students. "Climb down from the ladder slowly."

Chad then looked down at me, his face twisted into anger. "You can't do shit! You have nothing on me!"

"I have a warrant for your arrest, Chad Ames!" I shouted back.

Chad looked horrified. I watched him back up on the roof and I yelled at him to come down. Before I knew it, Chad ran off the roof and landed in the pool. I put my gun away as I waited for him to swim to the edge, wincing and gasping along the way. Turns out, it was because he shattered his foot at the bottom of the shallow pool.

I pulled him out of the water and had him face down on the cement ground as I read him his Miranda Rights. I handcuffed him and Judy assisted all the drunk pledges off the roof carefully.

Once everyone was safe and on the ground, I had put Chad in Judy's cruiser. I stuck my hand in the pocket of my police jacket and I felt my car keys. I had my cruiser parked just down the street to avoid detection.

Judy walked over and I asked, "do you mind taking him downtown? I can take these kids home. And we can fill out the paperwork tomorrow morning."

"Sure," Judy said.

We wished each other a good night, both of us elated to be sleeping in our own beds again. She went off with Chad, and I was in charge of the intoxicated pledges and officers. They were all leaning their hands on their knees, or leaning against the house, or they were sitting down, or they were puking in the lawn.

I walked up to Tom and Doug and asked how they were feeling. I was waiting until most of the pledges puking had subsided so I did not risk getting puke in my cruiser. It appeared like they were just looking through me, and they blinked painfully slowly.

"About as good as you'd expect," Doug responded and spit in the grass. They were both standing and swaying as if they were on a boat.

"Most of the students live on campus." Tom stumbled up close to me and I could smell the mixture of alcohol, puke, and all the food combinations he was forced to consume on his breath. He sounded really intoxicated, and his lazy eyes didn't have that light dancing in them anymore. "It'll be easy to... um... to take them... take them home."

"Yeah," I agreed with him, but I was leaning away so I wouldn't have to smell his breath. They both had alcohol poured directly on them as well, and no one has had a shower for the past three days so they smelled rancid.

They were sauced. I'm talking holding onto the grass so they don't fall off the earth sauced. Their safety was now my top priority.

Tom hiccuped then slowly turned toward Doug. He teetered a bit and took a side step to catch himself. He slurred to Doug, "I can't drive, man. There's no... no way."

"So, we gotta walk?" Doug asked with a groan.

"Pardon my French, but I think this stinks," Tom huffed with a little stomp of his foot. He looked down at the ground with a sniff, and his chin dipped down to his chest before he snapped it back up.

"No, don't worry, I'll take you two home," I promised. I gazed around at the pledges and picked out a few that did not look like they were going to get sick anymore. I turned back to Tom and said, "you guys should sit down. I'll be right back."

Tom did as I instructed, so he and Doug practically fell so they could sit on the steps of the frat house while I picked a few pledges to take home. They all lived very close, so it did not take too long. It took a few trips since I only have four open spots in my cruiser, but they all loved that Pacino was calmly sitting at their feet.

Once all the pledges were home and safe, I drove back to the fraternity house and saw Tom and Doug sitting on the porch steps of the house waiting for me.

I put the car in park and walked up to them with my hands in the pockets of my leather police jacket and asked if they were ready to go home. They both looked up at me drowsily with nods, and I first offered Doug my hands. He took them and I leaned back to help him up. He's a big dude. He stumbled forward but quickly caught his footing.

"You good?" I asked when I let my hands slip from his.

"Good," he said gently and leaned back against the house. "Holy shit. I'm fucking tired."

I stepped in front of Tom and flexed my hands open and closed a few times until he lifted his heavy arms to grab me. I held his warm hands tightly and helped yank him up. Once he was on his unsteady feet, he chortled softly and grumbled, "oh, wow... everythin' is up in my head."

"I'm sorry," was all I could say. The best thing I can do for them right now is to get them home so they can be miserable there.

Tom looked down at me with tired eyes and a sleepy grin. I could see the hard alcohol reflected in his smile. He hooked onto one of my arms, and Doug held the other and I walked with them slowly to my car.

Sandwiched between Tom and Doug, I asked them, "how are you guys feeling now?"

"Tired," Doug answered. They were both leaning against me but were obviously not trying to put too much of their body weight onto me, but they didn't have much of a choice. "I just wanna go home. I'm tired, so I'm going home."

"You're looking a little green, Tom," I remarked. Both of their eyes were red, and I'm certain it was because the brothers from the fraternity were blowing cigarette smoke into the pledges faces.

His closed his eyes and groaned before he answered, "green is purely a state of mind, Mick."

"I'll talk to Jenko in the morning, we will shut that fraternity down," I promised.

"Whenever... whenever I think about—about what we ate... I—" Tom was immediately interrupted when he flung his head the other way and threw-up on the side walk. I jumped out of the way, releasing my arm from his and nearly bumped into Doug. Doug put his hand on my shoulder to make sure I didn't fall, which I was grateful for. I quickly unlocked the car and let Doug into the back seat. Pacino moved over, and Doug immediately started petting him. Once he was situated and I closed the door, I walked over to Tom and patted his back until he was done. It smelled horrible.

"Sorry," he said as he stood up and spit in the grass. It was so hard to see them like this.

"It's okay... just— let's not think about that anymore," I said and opened the passenger door for him. I wished I had a bottle of water or something to give them to wash the rancid taste out of their mouths.

I walked around my car and let myself into the drivers seat. I reached over to the glove compartment and gave Tom some napkins to wipe his mouth with.

"Puke in my car and you're cleaning it tomorrow," I said as I buckled myself.

"Yeah, yeah." Tom waved me off and rested his head against the window. He let his droopy eyes close after balling the dirty napkin up in his palm.

I started driving down the street and I congratulated them, "you guys did a good job this week. I don't think I'd be able to have held out that long."

"Thank you very very much," Doug said sleepily.

I saw his head dip down and I said loudly, "hey, no, come on! I don't want to have to wake you when I get you home."

"You're gonna have to," Doug yawned, half asleep. Pacino laid down and put his head in Doug's lap, which made Doug smile and scratch behind Pacino's ears.

I turned the radio up a little and turned on the air conditioning to keep them awake. It obviously did not work, and I eventually gave up. I turned the radio back down so it was just a soft murmur to fill the silence as we coasted down the smooth midnight street.

I first drove to Doug's apartment. I turned my car off and turned around to see him sleeping against the window.

"Doug, hey, Doug," I said loudly, but he didn't stir. "Penhall!"

I could not tell if he was genuinely asleep or if he was ignoring me. I leaned over to get into my glove compartment and I grabbed my breathalyzer. I got out of my seat and walked around the car. I opened his door, and he started to fall but he jolted himself awake. He looked startled, but he squinted up at me groggily.

"Go home," I said.

Doug nodded and slipped out of the cruiser. I walked with him up to his apartment. I forced him to use the breathalyzer, just to make sure he was okay. He blew a high number, but low enough to where I felt comfortable leaving him alone. I hugged him goodnight and helped him with his apartment key. I waited until he got inside before I went back to the car. Tom was just stirring awake in the front seat when I got back.

"Mornin'," Tom yawned sleepily when I started the car again.

"Good morning," I chuckled softly. "Can you remind me where you live?"

"On over—over... on... um... Harris Avenue."

"Oh, okay. I know where that is."

We drove mostly in silence all the way to his apartment. He hiccuped a few times which filled the silence. Tom is still fairly new to Jump Street, so I do not know him all that well yet.

I wasn't sure if he was aware that Pacino was in the back seat but I said, "my dog is back there."

"Your dog?" He asked, glancing over to the back seat. He let out a little gasp and then I could hear Pacino's tail wag and hit the seat. "He's so cute."

"Yeah, that's Pacino," I chuckled. Pacino stuck his head between our seats and licked Tom. "He likes you."

"He's such a handsome boy," Tom mumbled as he scratched Pacino's head, and he loved it. I was pleased that Pacino took such a strong liking to Tom right away, usually he's pretty weary of new people.

I parked in front of his building and let him say goodbye to Pacino before I walked with him through the hallway and up to his apartment door. He bumped into me a couple of times, but I didn't make a fuss about it.

"Thanks for takin' me home," he said and rubbed his eye. He hiccupped. "Ow."

"Not a problem," I said with a soft smile. "Tomorrow we can get your car back after our shifts. Get your keys."

"It's weird seein' you in this uniform," Tom gestured to me as he fumbled for his keys and he leaned back against his door. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, which didn't do much to fix it.

"And not in those bright teenage clothes?" I asked, looking down at my black uniform. I really don't wear my uniform that often. I'm not usually allowed to.

"Yeah, it looks good," he said as he struggled but he managed to stick the key into his door and twisted it. He was still leaning against the door with most of his attention on me, so when it opened he stumbled back and nearly fell. He mumbled, "whoops."

"Oh my god," I said as I laughed. I reached out to grab his arm but he caught himself in time and he stood up straight. I almost felt bad for laughing before asking if he was all right. But I often find people falling quite funny, I can't help it. "You okay?"

"Never better," he slurred with a grin.

"You're funny," I giggled.

I could not help but smile at him, and I think he noticed. He's cute. He pushed the door so it could swing open and he asked, "wanna come inside?"

I checked my watch before I shoved my hand back in my pocket. I had never been in Tom's apartment before, and I've always imagined it to be incredibly tidy and that he has a place for everything. I imagine that he doesn't have a junk drawer either. I smiled softly and said, "I can stay for just a minute."

Tom grinned and let me walk past him. I stepped into his apartment, and I was almost right. His hardwood floors were shiny like he had mopped them before going on this assignment, and everything looked clean. I glanced into the kitchen on my left, where the white counters were completely free of crumbs and not a single dish was left in the sink.

As I walked further into the living room, I noticed that he had two couches, both of white leather. Plushy pillows were settled nicely in the corners against the arm rests. He had one in front of the entertainment center and the other was against the wall under his living room window with tall lamps on either side.

His entertainment center had a Sony television set, a CD player and a record player, and a bunch of records, CDs, VHS tapes, and books on the shelves. Right beside it was a brown chair that had his beige coat draped over it. There were some posters on the walls, and picture frames with photographs of him, his friends and his family, and his degrees from high school and the Academy proudly framed. He did have a desk off to the side that was pretty cluttered but that's not unusual.

His brown coffee table had Wednesday's newspaper on it, his television remote, and some magazines. Parallel to the couch against the wall he had a brown dresser with a bowling trophy, some picture frames, a candle, a lighter, a screwdriver, a water bottle, and a can of WD-40 on top.

"Make yourself at home," he stated as he doddered in behind me.

"What's this?" I looked at the bowling trophy.

"Oh, it's nothin'."

"It's not nothing. What is it?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"It's... it's a trophy I got for bowling. First place."

"First place? I didn't know you bowled professionally."

"I'm in a league."

"A league?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Yep, I bowl every Friday night. You should come out and see us sometime. We got a tournament in a couple weeks."

I chuckled softly. "I'll try to make it. By the way, your apartment is nice."

"Thank you," he said bashfully. "Want anythin'? I got... um... I don't really know what I got."

He disappeared into the kitchen and I turned and followed him. He swung the fridge open, and bent down to put his hands on his knees as he studied its contents while blinking heavily. "I got... an old lime." He took the wrinkly lime and tossed it over his shoulder, where it bounced on the floor behind him and it made me laugh. "Some week old pizza... there's soda in here, and I know I got some chips and cheese-balls in the cupboard."

"I'll take a soda," I said quietly.

"What kind? I got Sliced, Jolt Cola, Crystal Pepsi... oh." He reached in and pulled out a can of Diet Coke. He smiled tightly and said, "your favorite."

I took it from him with a smile. "Thank you. I didn't know you knew that."

He blew a raspberry. "''Course I do."

"Are you going to have anything?"

"Nah, my stomach is still... blah."

"You feeling okay?" I asked as I popped the tab open. If he's was going to puke, I'd rather know right now.

"Yeah... yeah, I think—I think I'm okay."

"Try taking a shower tonight. That might help you feel a little better," I suggested.

"I will."

We walked back into the living room and Tom crashed onto his couch. I walked slowly around to his entertainment center and peered down at his records as I sipped the cold soda. He didn't have a speck of dust on any of the shelves, it made me wonder how often he cleans.

I saw numerous records and CDs for The Smiths, The Police, Van Halen, Duran Duran, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, Billy Joel, Dean Martin, Roy Orbison, Glenn Miller, Fats Domino, Ike Quebec, Albert Ayler, Duke Ellington, Lester Young, Charlie Parker, Otis Redding, Big Jay McNeely, Tom Petty, and Queen. He had a lot of albums of saxophone players, which I thought was interesting. I didn't realize just how many different genres of music Tom listened to, I wanted to know what his absolute favorite was.

"Wow, you have a lot of great music," I stated while glancing back over my shoulder at Tom.

He rested his head against the back of the couch as he looked at me. His eyes fell closed, and he seemed really tired. He didn't say anything for a bit, and it made me think he wasn't listening to me. And then I thought he had fallen asleep.

"Tom?" I asked gently. I didn't want to wake him up because he really needed to rest. I probably shouldn't have accepted his invitation to come inside, I'll leave soon as long as I know that he will be okay being by himself.

He raised his eyebrows to open his eyes and asked, "huh?"

"I said you have a lot of great music."

"Oh, yeah. You—you wanna listen to somethin'?"

"Are you tired? I can leave you alone," I chuckled.

"No, no. It's okay, don't leave. I'll play you somethin'."

Tom got up and banged his shin on the coffee table as he made his way over to me. He grunted and groaned which turned into a laugh. He stopped in front of the entertainment center and bent down to go through his records, but he slowly fell back and laid down on the floor. He put his hands on his stomach as he chuckled.

I squatted down beside him and asked, "are you okay?"

"I'm—I'm real fine. Just got a little dizzy."

"You had a really long, shitty week. Do you think maybe it's time to go to bed?" I asked him.

"No, no. I ain't tired," Tom said, sounding tired. He rolled to the side and used his weak arms to prop himself back up. He scooted closer to the shelf and pulled out one of his records. He managed to get up on his feet and he teetered over to his record player. His shaky hand put the needle on the vinyl gently, and he turned it up a little.

Freddie Mercury's voice started playing from his record player. Tom beamed down at me and said, "I remember you said that you liked Queen. I remembered that."

I looked up at him and smiled widely. "Oh, thank you, Tom. That was sweet."

This thing called love
I just can't handle it
This thing called love
I must get 'round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love

Tom started dancing a little bit to the song with his tiny spurt of energy. He sung along to it quietly, and even took my hand to stand me back up and he spun me around under his arm. It was nice to see him happy and loose for once. He was having a good time after three days in literal hell, I was going to let him do his thing.

The song was about over when I finished my soda, I asked where his garbage was so I could throw it away. He offered to recycle it for me, so I handed him the empty can and he went into his kitchen, bumping into the corner of the wall in the process.

I noticed a door open ajar, and I saw the shadow of a faucet. I headed to the door, opening it and turning on the light to the bathroom. He kept it nice. The soap was full, the hand towel looked fluffy and freshly cleaned, the mirror was free from dust or smudges, and he had a closet with lots of folded towels. I took one out and set it on the closed toilet seat. I reached into the bath and turned on the shower for Tom.

When we both came back into the living room, I said, "I should probably head home, it's getting late. Judy and I have to come in early to fill out the paperwork from tonight's bust."

"Oh, okay," he said somberly. "I'll walk to you at the door... I'll walk you to the door."

"Thank you," I said as he walked with me to the entrance of his apartment. "I started the shower for you, by the way."

"Oh, wow. Thank you."

"Think you'll need any help with anything?" I tried to ask as nonchalantly as I could.

Tom cracked a grin. "I'll be okay."

Tom opened the front door for me and I stepped out into the apartment complex hallway. I turned and asked him, "are you sure you're okay?"

"I am hunky-dory."

"Hunky-dory, okay," I chuckled. I cleared my throat softly and got back into police-mode. I took the breathalyzer out of my pocket and presented it to him.

He glanced down at it and asked, "what do you want me to do with that?"

"Blow," I answered. His gaze was skeptical, with one eyebrow arched and emptiness in his eyes. I chuckled softly and said, "come on. I need to make sure you'll be safe if I leave you by yourself."

"Then I guess you can't leave."

"Tom."

Tom took another step closer to me and put his lips on the device and exhaled slowly. He put his hand on my shoulder for balance. These guys are professionals, they should know not to overindulge but it's very difficult to do that on hazing assignments. Usually the rules fly out the window because it's impossible without blowing your cover which is why we always have two more officers stationed somewhere nearby. The breathalyzer beeped, and Tom took a step back with his hand slipping off my shoulder. It took a moment for the results to show. His blood alcohol content was a little higher than Doug's, but that's because Doug is a bigger guy than Tom. Despite this, I was confident that he would be fine for tonight.

I told him what the breathalyzer said, and he seemed genuinely shocked. I slipped the device back into my pocket and began my spiel. Tom was susceptible to anything I said, so hopefully he actually listened. "Drink plenty of water and please have something plain to eat tonight, like toast or crackers. Try some ginger ale if you have any. Take a pain reliever in the morning. No coffee because it's a school night."

He chuckled, "okey-dokey. You got it."

I ended my little spiel with a semi-serious joke. "Don't forget to take that shower if you can."

He smelled his white shirt and made a dramatic gagging noise and rolled his eyes as he leaned into the doorframe with a grin. His head hit it with a thud, but he didn't flinch. "Oh, absolutely. See you tomorrow?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled.

Tom took a step toward me and wrapped me in a hug. I was a little surprised, because we have never hugged before. I'm not really much of a hugger. I returned the favor and put my hands on his back. His warm embrace was so tight, he cracked my back. He gasped in my ear and asked me if I was all right, and if he hurt me.

I chuckled and pulled away enough to look him in his dark and sensitive eyes. "I'm fine. My back cracks all the time, it's no big deal."

"Oh," he chuckled. He leaned against his doorframe again and he tipped an imaginary hat and said, "get home safe, Michelle."

"I will," I reassured and took a step back.

"Call me when you get home."

I smiled sweetly at him and reassured that I would, even though I already knew that I was not going to. He would probably be asleep by the time I got home, and we both needed to be at work early in the morning.

Tom stumbled into his apartment and I heard the door close after I started walking down the hall. He truly has a heart of gold, and he always does his best. He's a good guy.

I made my way back to my cruiser, and drove off silently into the night so I can finally be at home with Pacino again.