December 1988

Mickey was on vacation, so she did not have the pleasure of meeting Detective Dennis Booker. I was very envious of her. I do not know about anyone else, but I would much rather shoot myself in the foot than work with him ever again.

Mickey knows all about him. I called her once—or twice— just to complain. I am usually a suck-it-up kind of guy, but Booker was my exception. The man electrocuted me during school. For fun. I think I deserve a little bit of sympathy.

Turns out, he was investigating us at Jump Street to see if we were entrapping kids. He was from Internal Affairs, and then one thing led to another and now he works with us. I have no idea how that happened. Fuller obviously did not take my complaints into consideration. I loathed him with a passion. Again, I will voluntarily shoot myself in the foot. I encourage it. I will pay someone to do it if I have to.

Fuller told me about a new case he was assigning me to, along with Booker, Mickey, and Judy. The girls would be working Vice while Booker and I would pick them up while they are working undercover as prostitutes so they can catch a guy who has been killing prostitutes around the city and leaving them in alleys.

The first night, I drove around a little in my Mustang until my time came to pull up at the corner. I parked a little further down the road and turned off my lights because Booker beat me to it.

I quickly spot Mickey and Judy under the street lamps that illuminated the dark street. They were surrounded by real prostitutes, but we weren't here for them. I scratched my cheek and looked away, because even though they could not see me, I wanted to stay respectful towards them.

As soon as I saw Mickey hop in Bookers car and drive away, I slowly approached the sidewalk to take his spot. I rolled the window down and Judy approached my car.

"Hey, sugar. How's your night going?" Judy asked while leaning into my window.

"Uh—good," I said shakily. I was not used to doing stuff like this.

"My name is Crystal. I'll blow you for $10," she offered.

My eyes widened, because I did not realize how into the case they were going to be. Judging from their outfits, they were going all in. Sometimes I forget that you have to be 110% into it in order to be believable. But hearing Judy say something like that made me feel uneasy.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and looked down at the wad of cash that Fuller gave me earlier. "How does $100 for the night sound?"

Judy smiled and nodded. I unlocked the car and let her in. Once she came inside, she closed the door and I drove off.

We both dropped the act and she started shivering in the seat. I didn't bring a jacket or anything, so I rolled the window up and cranked the heat as high as it could go.

"Thanks," she said.

"Don't mention it," I said. I stopped at a stop light and asked her, "where should we go?"

She clicked her tongue in thought and she suggested, "how about James Motel?"

"Never been there."

"Take the next left."

Judy gave me directions on how to get to the James Motel, and we checked into a room. It was musty and gross, but we tried to stay optimistic. Judy and I have not really been assigned many cases together, nor have we hung out outside of work so it was a little bit awkward. But, we made the best out of our situation. I think my favorite part of the night was either when we saw a crackhead staring at us through the window, or when she was screeching while standing on the bed while I was armed with a broom, trying to shoo a rat out of the motel room. Not once, not twice, but three times.

The next night, I was a little late picking up Mickey, but it was intentional. Booker and I thought that we arrived too close together last night so this time we wanted our pick-up times to be separated. I pulled over for Mickey. This time, I was prepared with my jacket to keep her warm.

I unrolled the window and immediately felt a chill from the December night. I glanced at what Mickey was wearing, and they could not pay me enough to wear something so skimpy in such cold weather. I'm not trying to shame her, I believe women can wear whatever they want but she was freezing. A very short black dress with those sheer black tights or whatever those are called was her only source of warmth. Her lips were practically turning blue from the cold and I saw goosebumps prickle up her bare arms.

"What's your game, baby?" She asked while leaning against my car. She didn't look like the cold bothered her, but I could not imagine that it wasn't. It was freezing.

Her hazel downturned eyes were almost hypnotic. Her ability to make them dark, mysterious, and sultry was unlike anything I had ever seen. A shape-shifter. She could turn it on like a light switch.

"I've got $200," I said a little too loudly. I saw at least five heads shoot towards us and a couple of hookers looked like they were going to come talk to us in an attempt to join.

Mickey smiled at me and opened the door, "you're in for a wild time, baby."

"I'm Tom," I said to her as she swung into the car and shut the door.

She said, "I'm Kitty."

She grabbed my tie and pulled me toward her in a way that both surprised me, and intrigued me. I did not think she had it in her. She even messed with my hair a little, and I did not even mind. I would not ever admit this, but it actually felt good. My smile emerged, but I hoped that she thought I was just acting.

I've been dating Jackie Garrett from the District Attorney's office since November. I just met her, really, but she asked me out first. The thing is, I didn't even like her a whole lot at the beginning but now I've gotten used to her. Our relationship has been a secret, and I haven't even told Doug or Mickey about it yet. The thing is, when I'm with Mickey, I don't even think about Jackie. That must mean something... doesn't it?

I pulled onto the main road, and as soon as we got away from that particular corner, Mickey relaxed in her seat and let go of my tie. Once we got to the first stop light, I took the opportunity to take off my jacket and handed it to Mickey while making sure the heat was still on high. I wore my jacket because I thought it would warm it up faster than if I just left it on the seat.

"Sorry it's not bigger," I apologized. I wanted to get her a blanket or something, but I could not find any in my apartment that I have washed recently. I did not want to get her something I have slept on and smells like me and may or may not be imbedded with crumbs. The next best thing was my thick jacket.

"It's fine," she said. She pushed some of her wild curly hair off her shoulder and put my warm jacket on. Her hair is never this big and poofy, and her makeup is usually not so heavy either but it was for the assignment. After she got situated she said, "thanks for the jacket."

"It suits you. You should always wear my clothes," I said. It wasn't until after I said it, I realized what I said. It slipped out, but it's true.

"Where are we going?"

"I took Judy to the James Motel last night and we only saw three rats in total..." my voice trailed off as we stopped at a red light. The James Motel was a terrible choice, and I was trying to think of a better, hopefully cleaner one for me and Mickey to spend our evening.

"Let's try to make it four," she said.

"Yeah?" I asked and looked over at her as I drove.

"Yeah." She smiled brightly. I love her smile.

She insisted, so I used my memory from the night before to get to the dirty motel. It definitely wasn't my first choice, but we ended up having a good time. We checked into a different room, but the same night clerk from the night before gave me a weird look.

We had a few hours to kill, so we started off strong with goofy staring contests. It wasn't hard, I could look into her eyes for hours. She has some dark circles under her eyes which I've noticed she usually covers up well with makeup. I think she looks great with them, so I was glad I could see her with them tonight.

We used rock-paper-scissors to see who had to pay for a pizza dinner. I never lose contests, but I lost that time. We timed each other on who could eat a pizza the fastest, and I was surprised how close she was to beating me.

We ended the night by watching boring game shows on the television. The quality wasn't great, but it was just boring enough to make me want to sleep. Mickey sat beside me and she yawned. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I didn't dare move a muscle. I used my eyes to look at her without moving my head. She eventually slipped down softly until her head was in my lap, and again, I didn't move because I didn't want to wake her up.

When she was incredibly still for a few minutes, a commercial break came on and I eased my own boredom by using my finger to draw imaginary shapes and words on her bare arm. I reached over gently to grab my jacket that she had put beside her and draped it over her shoulder and torso as a make-shift blanket. She trusted me so much, and it made me feel warm inside. I smiled down at her softly, and even pushed some of her dark hair back and saw her sleepy face. I could smell her sweet perfume lingering around us. She's so pretty. I want to hold her, but all my senses tell me to stop. Seeing her asleep made me sleepy, I nodded off a time or two but I forced myself to stay awake until it was time for us to go.

On the third night, we were scheduled to catch our murderer. I wasn't a big fan of using our girls as bait, but I'm constantly reminded how strong they both are and how they can take care of themselves. I thought it was going to be a relatively easy night for me, but I had to sit in the passengers seat of Bookers car with him. My hands were nearly shaking on how bad I wanted to punch this guy in the throat.

We technically weren't undercover, so we had to wear our dark police uniforms. We were parked just down the road with our lights off, acting as if we weren't in the car. We could both see Mickey and Judy easily while they were standing on the corner. They were both wearing similar clothes of see-through shirts and black tights. We were watching them to ensure their safety.

I darted my eyes between the girls and Booker, over and over until I realized that he was staring at them. I nudged him with my elbow and scolded him, "come on, man, quit looking at them, will you?"

"What's your damage, man? I ain't hurting no one," Booker said back.

I visibly cringed and said, "it hurts me."

"I ain't saying nothing," Booker claimed.

"Yeah, but you're thinking it."

"Tell me, Hanburger, what am I thinking?" He asked and stared at me.

I paused and furrowed my eyebrows at him. "What did you just call me?"

"Hanburger."

"Why must you call me weird things?"

"Just answer the question."

I rolled my eyes and said, "probably who you're gonna bring home tonight."

"No. I was thinking about peanut butter. Why does everyone think I bring home a new lady every night?"

"You don't?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not." He almost sounded offended until he added, "it's every other night."

I flexed my lips in disgust and focused back on my teammates who were counting on us. How can Booker be so unprofessional? I swear, he'd do anything for some loose change and a chicken wing.

"I'm kidding," Booker said, "relax, Hanson. You know what your problem is? You are too uptight. You know what you need?"

"I don't care."

"You need to get laid."

"Stop."

"Ever wondered why I'm so laid back and chill?"

"I really don't care."

"It's because I get some action now and then," he concluded.

"I'm not going to talk to you about my sex life," I snapped at him. I didn't owe him any sort of an explanation about my love life. I've been going around with Jackie for about a month now. I can't believe it's only been a month. We haven't told anyone yet, and I don't think we ever will. At least I don't want to be public with our relationship, but Jackie has mentioned that she wants to tell people. I don't really care for what Jackie wants. I mean I do... but I don't.

"Right... you can't talk about what you don't have, huh?"

I let a soft growl escape my throat, but it was so low I don't think he heard it. Why was he so invested in my life? What's the fascination? Doesn't he have enough to worry about with his own?

Suddenly, our conversation came to a halt when a dark blue car pulled up to the corner. I noticed the girls talk to one another, eyeing the car suspiciously. We all knew that this car had been seen at a majority of the crime scenes and the girls we interviewed mentioned how this was always the car that picked up their friends who were always found dead the next morning.

We leaned forward but couldn't hear what was happening. I saw Judy and Mickey walk up to him and began a conversation.

"Let's get him," I said and unbuckled.

Booker stopped me, "hold your fire. We have to wait."

"For what?"

"For him to do something illegal."

"Shouldn't this be enough?"

He shook his head, "not in court."

I hated when Booker was right. I frustratedly sat back in my seat and muttered under my breath, "bull shit."

Judy and Mickey slipped into his car and he pulled away from the curb and began driving down the street. Booker quickly put his car into gear and began to follow them from a safe distance. We didn't want the driver to know that he was being followed.

We parked behind a tree and saw him pull into the parking lot of a motel I've never heard of and helped the girls out of the car. Booker and I were crouching behind a bush and saw him lead the girls into one of the rooms that he must have already rented, with a dark bag in his hand.

The door closed, and Booker said, "now it's time."

We raced back to the car and Booker put his lights on. I used the radio to call for back up, and I heard Doug's voice return my request. We drifted into the parking lot, and got out at the same time. In case he was armed, we prepared ourselves by holding our guns up.

The door swung open, which surprised both of us. Mickey walked out holding the man aggressively. She had one hand gripped on the handcuffs that were shackling his wrists together behind him, and another was resting firmly on his shoulder. I lowered my gun down, impressed by both of our girls. The man grimaced as she pushed him forward and into Bookers hands.

I glared at the man as I walked past him. He was disgusting, vile, and a downright terrible person for committing so many murders. I hoped he went to jail for a long, long time.

"Clean bust?" I asked her. They really had everything under control.

Mickey nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. "Judy is still in the room."

"I'm glad you two are okay," I said. I just so happened to glance down and saw that her dress was cut down to... there. I quickly took my leather Metro Police Department jacket off and placed it over Mickey's shoulders to try to warm her up.

"Thanks," she said while looking up at me through her dark lashes. I smiled back and grabbed the collar of the jacket and helped adjust it on her shoulders so it wouldn't slip off. I saw her cheeks blush, but I'm sure it was from the cold. Her nose was all red too.

Judy came out holding the bag that the man had and said, "I found a couple coils of rope, duct tape, a knife, and a small hatchet. He was not expecting us to make it out of that room alive."

"That's probably evidence," I said and offered my hand, "I can take that for you." Judy handed me the bag and I said, "thanks. Good night, you guys. Get some rest."

"Thanks, you too," Mickey said back.

I carefully walked to one of the cruisers that Doug drove so I didn't have to be in the car again with Booker. Doug happily drove me to the station. On the way there, I realized that I left my jacket with Mickey. I figured that I'd get it back from her later.

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️ I'm going to post Tom's Version of Abused Gymnasts next!