Snow White

By Trisha

Part One

There were three of them in the office, three men with the power to make him feel like a fucking school kid again, three men with the power to scare him. The chief in the center, behind the desk. Ellis Lowell, the DA to the chief's right, hands steepled, eyes appraising, looking for weakness, the slimy little bastard. To the left Captain Dudley Smith. If he had any kind of an ally in that room it was Smith. Bud White had a feeling he needed an ally.

The Chief brandished the Los Angeles Times newspaper at him. The front page headline, the picture. It was just a matter of luck that he wasn't in the godamned picture!

"Bloody Christmas," the chief told him. "The press love to label." He dropped the paper down on the desk, face up. "Officer White, you should know that this is bigger than a police board, the Grand jury's convening, indictments have been handed down. Will you testify?" Straight to the point, no fucking around the issue.

"No sir, I won't."

The chief didn't look as though the answer surprised him. "Attorney Lowell?"

Lowell looked at him like he was an idiot, maybe he was. "You and Officer Stensland brought the liquor into the station. Stensland was already drunk. So do you see how appearing as a voluntary witness against him could offset the damage you have done to yourself?"

He didn't like Lowell, he directed his reply to the chief. "Sir, I won't testify against my partner or anyone else."

"This man is a disgrace!" The DA was less than impressed.

"Your badge and your gun officer, you're suspended from duty, dismissed."

Suspended?

He placed his badge and gun down on top of the newspaper. Bloody Christmas, the headline mocked him.

He left the room. Suspended, a Grand jury! What had he expected, a bad boy mark on his jacket? He'd been a fool. He walked down the corridor. Exley was coming the other way. He passed him a smug look, the bastard!

His hands balled into fists at his side. It took all of his self control not to go back and knock the smile off that little pricks face. He had to get outside, away from the building. He needed time to think.

She looked out of her room window, coffee in hand. She liked to sit here sometimes, when she had the time. She loved the view onto the little park with it's wide circling footpath, benches on either side. It was fun sometimes to watch the people, wonder who they were, what they did, and what they were thinking. Often they would come and sit on the benches nearby, she thought of them as her benches, silly really. People who must work nearby would come out at lunch time to sit and eat their sandwiches. There were women with children, and there were couples of course, who would come to hug and maybe steal a kiss or two. She would wonder how they met, whether they were in love. The world sometimes seemed full of people in love.

It was quiet this morning, but then it wasn't even eleven yet, the park didn't really get busy until noon. She saw a man alone walking slowly down the path. He wasn't a familiar figure, lots of the people that she noticed came here every day. He wore a brown jacket and light trousers, white shirt and a tie. His hands were in the pockets of his pants, his head with it's short cropped brown hair , was down. He looked to be around her age. A broad man, powerful looking across the shoulders. He paused for a moment, and then sat down on her bench. He sighed, she could see it in his body even though she couldn't hear it. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, before staring off into nothing. He looked dejected, so incredibly sad.

"Where are you girl?" The loud demanding voice cut through her thoughts. "I need you! What are you doing?" She hated that voice, with the petulant whine that was reserved only for her.

She glanced down at the unhappy looking man and gave a sigh of her own before reluctantly leaving her seat at the window.

Six thirty and she was finally alone. She had time to herself, to do what she wanted. Listen to the radio, read a book for a while. Maybe later she'd go out and catch a movie, or maybe just take a walk, she was tired of being cooped up inside all day.

She spotted her coffee cup, still on the window ledge where she had left it that morning, still more than half full of cold coffee. She glanced out at her bench.

He was still there!

The man from this morning was still sitting there. He seemed to be staring down at the floor. That was an awfully long time to sit in one place. Perhaps he had fallen asleep, he could even be ill. The park was pretty much deserted, no one around him to notice if something was wrong, and it was impossible to tell from the window. She could ignore him, and he could turn into a newspaper headline tomorrow "MAN FOUND DEAD IN PARK". She could go and investigate, and he could be drunk, or crazy, and that headline could read "WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN PARK".

She put down her coffee cup and picked up her purse from the bed.

Bud was as stiff as hell. Shit, how long had he been sat here thinking? A million things had passed through his mind today, but he still wasn't certain that he had done the right thing. He didn't know what to do next, and he didn't want to think about the future, about what would happen if he didn't get his job back. All he'd managed to accomplish was to make himself feel even more miserable, now that was a real smart thing to do.

There were feet opposite him, pretty feet in soft white shoes. It occurred to him that he'd been staring at them for some time now. He looked up slowly and took in nice legs, pale blue skirt, white shirt blouse, pale blue sweater draped around her shoulders. She was in her early twenties, pretty, really pretty. Not glamorous like the woman he had seen in "Mick's Liquor" on Christmas Eve. Her looks were softer. Her eyes were big and dark, her hair quite short, almost black, full of big soft curls. She was staring back at him, her expression a little shy, he wondered if anything was wrong.

"Are you okay Miss?" he asked her.

She had a warm, beautiful smile that lit up her face. "I've been sat here building up the courage to ask you the same thing. I'm staying at the hotel," she pointed behind her. "I was stood at my window this morning and I saw you come and sit down. I came back about an hour ago, and I noticed that you were still here. Please, don't be offended by my asking, but are you all right?"

It must have taken some courage for her to come out like this. "I'm fine. I just needed some time and space to think." He smiled at her. "It's nice to know I had a guardian angel looking down on me. That's a pretty swanky hotel," he told her. "You on vacation?"

"No, not really. The woman I work for has a suite there. She lives here for part of the year."

He liked her voice, it was soft, but quite deep and her accent was incredible. "What kind of accent is that?" he asked her.

"I'm English."

"I've never met anyone from England before."

The smile again. "Then maybe the day isn't a total loss?"

Bud laughed and she laughed with him.

"So have you finished work for the day?" he asked her.

She nodded. "She's gone to some party at a Hollywood studio, so she won't be back until the early hours."

He decided to take a gamble. "Listen, sitting here all day, it's left me feeling pretty hungry. Would you like to get something to eat with me?"

Her eyes flicked away from his for the first time, and he saw uncertainty in her expression. He waited for the polite refusal.

"Okay."

She could be right, maybe the day wasn't a total loss after all. "You pick the place," he told her.

"Could we get a hamburger from one of those street vendors?"

He laughed. "I kinda had in mind taking you somewhere nice."

"It would be nice," she told him. "I've never, ever had one before, and I've always wanted one. They smell so wonderful."

She meant it, he realized, every word. He shrugged, his grin one of resignation. "If that's what you want, then that's what we'll have. The guy at the entrance to the park is pretty good."

Jack Vincennes let his dark eyes roam over the assorted actors, actresses, big shots, lesser shots, and associated hangers on who attended the "Badge of Honor" party. He knew most of them, and most of them knew him, or at least they thought they did. Truth be known, no one really knew him. They saw the handsome, well groomed Sergeant from narcotics, technical advisor on the tv show. They saw the smile, enjoyed the gently mocking sense of humor, and thought they knew him.

He knew them though. His friendly expression hid a razor sharp intelligence, and the laughing eyes missed nothing, nothing that he couldn't file away for later, nothing that might benefit him.

He noticed a new face amongst the crowd, a guest. An older woman in a dark green dress who dripped with jewels. Everything about her shouted money, her dress, shoes, jewels, hair. Whoever she was she was the center of an awful lot of attention. She was attracting men the way that a dog attracts fleas. He was curious as to why. Handsome as the woman was, she was not outstanding, not in a room filled with so much youthful beauty.

"Hey Big V!" Sid Hudgeons appeared at his side. The diminutive owner, editor, of "Hush, Hush" magazine was universally disliked, but welcomed everywhere as one of Hollywood's necessary evils.

Jack didn't mind him. The little man was sharp and witty, plus the two of them had a nice little arrangement going. Sid provided him with a steady stream of collars, and welcome gratuities, and he provided Sid's rag with a degree of moral high ground with it's celebrity arrest "exclusives".

"Hey Sid." He gave the untidy man his practiced smile. "How's it going?"

"Very nicely. What about you, rumor has it that "Bloody Christmas" is reaping it's toll of the LAPD?"

Jack sighed. 'Bloody Christmas', it was something he could have done without. "Yours truly takes a brief suspension followed by a temporary transfer to vice, no big deal." Not one of his best moves, getting involved in that mess. He changed the subject. "Who's the woman?"

"That is Meredith Allen-Moncrieff, widow of the multimillionaire industrialist William Allen-Moncrieff. The lovely Meredith was his second wife. Rumor has it that she's a bit of a boozer. Quite a party girl too I'm told, even when hubby was alive. Likes 'em handsome. Has a home in the South of France, another in England. She's over here with her stepdaughter, who is said to be a total doll."

"So where is she?" he asked.

"If stories are true, then the merry widow doesn't let her out much. It seems that the girl is a real "Snow White", and the wicked stepmother can't handle that kind of competition."

"Interesting." he turned his gaze back to the woman to find that her eyes were already on him. She smiled at him slowly, and it wasn't a shy smile.

Sid had seen the look too and laughed. "Go for it Jackie boy. I hear the lovely Meredith knows what she likes."

"Wicked stepmother huh?" He raised his eyebrows at Sid and grinned before taking a slow stroll in her direction.

Up close she wasn't quite so handsome. Sid was probably right about her being a boozer. In her youth she had most probably been a stunner, but some women just didn't have the sense to grow old gracefully, and she was clearly one of them. She was interested though, her eyes were eating him up. He had precious little else to do to fill in time whilst he was suspended from duty.

She pulled out a cigarette and Jack reached out with his lighter. "May I?"

She wrapped a set of perfectly manicured and lacquered nails around his handwhilst accepting the light.

"Oh, most certainly."

Bud had expected her eyes to be brown, but up close he saw that they were blue. He had never seen anyone with such dark blue eyes before. She wasn't wearing any make-up either, but with those dark curly lashes she didn't need any. The women he usually met were pretty much of a type. They were the type you picked up in bars. They had been around the block a few times and knew the score. One night stands most of them. A few drinks, a few laughs, and quick, pass in the night sex. They weren't like this girl, with the pretty clothes, the creamy skin, and the quick, natural smile.

He watched her as she finished off her hamburger. He had already polished off his own, and a chili dog. She licked her lips and then dabbed them dry with the napkin.

"That was wonderful," she told him. "Hot though. I don't know how you ate two of them so quickly."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Hunger?"

She laughed. "I suppose you must have been pretty peckish." She took a hesitant step nearer to him. "You have mustard,.." she lifted up her napkin. "May I?"

He nodded and she stepped in close to dab at his chin. He caught her perfume, soft and light. It would be so easy now just to kiss her. He sensed that if he did it would be a mistake, that it would scare her off, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"That's got it," she told him, blushing as she threw the napkin in the trash.

"Thanks. I could do with something to wash that down with. I was wondering, if maybe you'd like to come for a drink with me?" He felt suddenly awkward, stupid. "Anywhere," he told her. "I mean, I know you don't know me or anything, so we could go in the hotel bar if you'd like?"

She shook her head. "No," she said quickly.

He tried to keep how disappointed he felt from his face.

"Not the hotel," she continued. "If we go for a drink in there then my employer will most likely find out about it." Her nose screwed up. "She wouldn't approve. I'd like to go for a drink with you though, I think that would be nice."

He could feel himself grinning like a godamned idiot. "I don't know your name."

"It's Felicia Allen."

"Felicia," it suited her. "That's nice. Mine's Bud, Bud White."

"Bud," she smiled. "Is that short for something?"

"My first name's Wendell," he explained. "My friends call me Bud."

"Bud it is then."

His car was parked just around the corner, so he drove her to the "Formosa". Although it's patrons included low life mugs like Johnny Stompanado, it was a fairly classy place. It was still early so the bar was fairly quiet and they took one of the booths.

Felicia looked around the bar. It looked quite a nice place with it's red leather seats, red cloths on the tables, and Chinese lanterns hung from the ceiling. She loved the cosey booth they had sat in. It was private, but they could still see everything that was going on. The waitress came over to take their order.

"What will you have?" Bud asked her.

"A gin and tonic," she told the waitress. "Lots of tonic."

"And a scotch, straight," he added.

She liked Bud's voice. It was deep and sexy, and she liked his careful, precise manner of speaking. She had never done anything like this before, come out for a drink with a total stranger, especially one she had virtually propositioned in a public park. There was something about this man though. She liked him, and she felt safe with him.

"This is a nice place," she told him. "Have you been here before?"

"A few times. It gets pretty full later on, and now and then you get to see the odd movie star. Do you like the movies?"

She shrugged. "A little. I'm not too good on movie stars though. I mean, I sort of recognize their faces, but I'm never sure of their names. You may have to point them out to me if any come in."

He laughed. "I'm not too good either. Lana Turner's about my limit, and only because I know her boyfriend."

"Your friend dates Lana Turner?" she asked him.

His green eyes laughed. "He's not my friend. He used to be my snitch."

The waitress came back with their drinks and he paid for them.

"Your snitch?" she asked him, intrigued.

"I'm a cop," he told her. Something happened, something drained all the happiness out of his face. "At least I am for now." He took a large pull on his drink and stared down into his glass. His thoughts were clearly miles away.

Felicia reached out and squeezed his large hand, which was wrapped loosely around his glass. He looked up and gave her a half hearted smile, unconsciously capturing her fingers in his.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

"Why don't you talk to me about it?" she asked him. "I'm a good listener."

Bud glanced down at the delicate fingers he held in his. Her hands were as pretty as the rest of her, he stroked them, loving how soft they felt. He looked back up into the big dark eyes. "It's not a nice story."

He wanted to tell her though. He wanted to talk to someone. He wanted someone he could tell his feelings to, the ones he always had to keep back, the ones that sometimes ate away at him.

"Why don't you tell me?" she said softly.

He swallowed nervously. "On Christmas Eve I was working out of Hollywood Station. There was a party going on. I was going to it, once I'd finished an arrest report. There was this big commotion. A group of Mexicans had been arrested and taken down to the holding cells. These guys had beaten up two cops and there were all kinds of rumors flying 'round about how badly our guys had been injured. The guys at the party found out that the Mexicans had been brought in and they wanted revenge. My partner was one of them, and someone tipped me the word he'd gone down to the holding cells with the others. Stens, my partner, he'd had a few drinks, and he can be a real mean drunk. I went down there to cool him off, stop him from doing anything stupid. One of the Mexicans, he made this smart ass remark, and I swung at him, then the next minute the whole godamned place just went crazy. There were some reporters in the building and,..."

"I saw it in the papers," she told him. "It was on the front page. They called it Bloody Christmas, or something like that?"

He nodded. "I was hauled up in front of the chief today. He told me that they're convening a Grand jury. The DA wanted me to rat out,..." he wasn't sure she would understand. "To inform on my partner, to save my own skin. When I said I wouldn't I was suspended from duty."

He couldn't look her in the face. He knew she would be shocked, disgusted at what he had done. He hung his head.

To his surprise she stroked his face before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He looked up at her.

"You did what you thought was the right thing."

"What I did on Christmas Eve, it was stupid. I messed up, but I didn't think it would come to suspension. I never thought I might lose my job over it. The job's important to me, I messed it up, and I don't know what to do." he confessed.

"So will you testify against your friend?"

He shook his head. "No."

"When will you have to face this Grand jury?"

"In the next few days. The hearing convenes tomorrow."

"You can't change what you did, wrong or right, you did it. And you won't betray your friend because you believe that that's the right thing to do. Beating yourself up over it won't solve anything, and it won't help. To me you seem like a nice man, and I think that in the end things will work out better than you expect them to."

Bud looked into her eyes, saw only sincerity. "You think so?"

She nodded and gave him a slow smile.

He planted a kiss on her forehead. "Thanks," he told her.

"For not being much help?" she laughed.

"For listening. For not leaving me on that bench all night." He laughed with her at the idea.

They talked about other stuff. About music and movies, about the places she'd seen in LA. She was easy to talk to, she was bright and funny, and being around her was real easy.

He watched her stifle back a yawn, the second one inside of ten minutes.

"You're tired."

She nodded. "I suppose I am a little. I didn't sleep too well last night and I think it's catching up on me."

"Would you like me to run you back now?"

She nodded. "You must be tired of me by now anyway."

"I'm not tired of you." Bud told her, unable to resist the urge to touch her cheek. "I wanted to ask you if I could see you again."

"I'd really like that," she told him. "But seeing you's not so simple for me. The woman I work for, she's not too pleasant. She doesn't like me going out unless it suits her. And she would be furious if she thought I was seeing someone. If she finds out I might lose my job, and I can't afford for that to happen, so I have to be careful. Will you give me your number and let me call you?"

Bud wrote it down for her.

He drove her back to the hotel, parking away from the entrance, on the corner.

"I had a really nice time tonight," she told him.

He gazed into her eyes. "So did I. Thanks for letting me talk to you, about all that stuff that was bothering me."

"That's okay."

He leaned over and took her face in his hands. He stared deep into her dark blue eyes before kissing her gently on the lips. Her arms snaked around his shoulders, her fingers stroked the back of his neck. He licked his tongue over her lips and she opened up to him. Her mouth tasted wonderful, and the little sigh of pleasure she gave, as he deepened the kiss, drove him crazy. It was difficult for him to restrain himself.

He broke the kiss finally and planted a soft one beneath her ear.

"You'd better go in," he told her.

She nodded, but she seemed as reluctant to get out of the car as he was to let her.

"Will you call me?" he asked her.

"As soon as I can." She sighed. "You're right, I'd better go." She pecked him quickly on the cheek. "Goodnight Bud."

"Night," he told her.

She got out of the car, and he watched her walk down the street safely into the hotel. He pondered for a moment. It was still early. He could go find Stensland, have a few more drinks. In the end he decided against it and drove home. As he lay in bed he thought about Felicia. He wondered if she would ring, he hoped she would.

She called him two days later and arranged to meet him that night.

Bud was glad to see her. The past two days had seemed endless to him. His thoughts were of only two things, his Grand jury testimony, and the girl, and his moods swung with his thoughts.

He had met up with Stensland the previous day and was surprised by his partners good mood. Stens had more to lose than he had, he was older, only a year away from his pension. Still, he didn't seem too wound up over it. Maybe what Felicia said was right. Whatever was going to happen would happen, no point in beating himself up over it.

She had arranged to meet him on the same corner where he had dropped her off that first night. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she walked up to the car. She wore a plain black dress, nothing fancy, not tight, or low cut, but he'd never seen anyone look sexier in his life. He got out and opened the car door for her.

He climbed in beside her, unable to wipe the big, stupid grin off his face as he feasted his eyes on her. She had lipstick on, no other make-up that he could tell, but she didn't need it, her face was just perfect.

"You look great," he told her, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek and breathe in her subtle perfume. "What time do you have to be back?"

"It doesn't really matter. That party my boss went to the other night, she met some man there. She's having dinner with him tonight, and she must have other plans because she's warned me to stay out of the way."

"Good," that sounded just perfect to Bud. "Do you like to dance?" he asked her.

"I love to."

He took her to a bar he knew where there was live music and dancing. It was a great night. They must have danced every dance. Not that he was complaining, holding her close, staring into those dark blue eyes was no hardship. The hardest part was that it had to end.

He sensed that she was disappointed too, as they got into the car. That like him she didn't want the night to be over.

They kissed, a full lingering kiss, as they sat in the car park.

"I don't want to say goodnight to you just yet," he told her.

"I don't want to go yet," she sighed. Her fingers found his. "But I think every where's starting to close."

"We could have a night cap at my place, if you'd like?" He regretted saying it the minute it came out of his mouth. "I wasn't,..." he was drowning, didn't know what to say. "I'm not good at all this small talk stuff. I never met anyone like you before and I don't want to,.. A drink, I meant a drink."

She placed her fingers over his lips to cut him off. "You're right," she smiled into his eyes. "You're terrible at small talk. I'd like a drink, and I trust you."

Felicia just wasn't too sure if she trusted herself. It had been a wonderful evening. Having him hold her close, feeling that powerful body pressed up against hers. She had melted inside as she gazed into his eyes. Those lovely green eyes that sometimes seemed so sad. Having that deep voice whisper to her, beside her ear, had sent shivers down her spine. She didn't want the night to end, she didn't want to have to say goodnight to him.

As soon as Bud let her into his apartment he apologized for the mess, but there wasn't any, just a bunch of clothes left hanging around. He moved them anyway, leaving her alone to look around. There wasn't much to see. The apartment was spartan, the furniture old. It was surprisingly clean though. There was a citation for bravery framed on his wall. A photograph of a football team, together with a couple of trophies. He walked up behind her.

"Do you still play?" she asked him.

"No. I took a couple of bad injuries, my knees are shot to hell."

She picked up another photograph. It was an old one in a nice silver frame. A woman, with sad eyes, just like his, stared back at her. "Is this your mother?" she asked him.

He nodded. "How did you know?"

"You have her eyes. It's a nice picture."

"It's the only one I have of her, it was taken the same year she died."

"Oh I'm sorry." She stood it back on the shelf. "Do you have one of your father?"

His face changed, as though a cloud had passed over it. "No." He looked away from her eyes quickly. "Let me get you that drink."

She had hurt him in some way without knowing, she realized. Touched a nerve with her question.

"There's scotch, vermouth, or tequila, sorry about that, it's not a great choice."

"It doesn't matter, scotch is fine."

He poured them both a drink, handed the glass to her. "I had a good time tonight."

She smiled, relieved that the cloud had gone. "So did I, I had a lovely time. I used to dance a lot but I don't get much chance now."

"Because of your job?"

She nodded. "Having fun isn't on the agenda much these days, but tonight made up for that. It was wonderful, thank you." She pecked him on the cheek.

Bud put his glass down on the table, took hers from her too. He held her face, let himself drink in every detail. The huge eyes, the small, slightly upturned nose, the perfect, soft lips. He kissed them, exploring her mouth whilst his fingers lost themselves in her silky, dark curls.

Her hands rested on his chest for a moment, then slid up to his shoulders, pushing his jacket down. He put his arms by his sides to let it fall before holding her again, pulling her close. He explored her face, her ears, the long, soft curve of her neck, with kisses.

She pulled away from him, gently but firmly, stared up into his face. A little frown creased her brow and he waited for her to say something. She didn't say a word. Instead she unfastened his tie, slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"Felicia," he began.

"No, don't talk," she told him. "There's a part of me that's really frightened of the way I'm feeling. A part that wants to run away. I've never felt like this before."

"Don't run away," he couldn't keep the desire from his voice. "Please?"

She shook her head.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, deposited her on the bed. He sat beside her, turning on the lamp because he wanted to see her, look at her.

She made the first move. Getting to her knees she pulled out his shirt and eased it off him whilst she kissed his shoulders. Then she moved on to his vest, taking it off. She explored his chest with her fingertips before placing a kiss on his mouth. His whole body was on fire from her touch, the desire to make love to her was overwhelming him.

"Bud," she let out a deep quivering breath, before looking up at him from beneath the long lashes. "I've never done this before, I'm sorry."

It stunned him.

He stroked her cheek. "We don't have to if you don't want to." He couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to, he knew that.

"But I do want to, I want to more than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"Disappointed," he shook his head, finding it difficult even to speak, his desire for her was so great. "How could I be disappointed?"

Her eyes were huge, dark, as they gazed into his. "Let me see you?" she asked him.

He kicked off his shoes and socks, and slowly undressed for her. His erection was huge, and it's intensity painful. He lay back on the bed hypnotized by the way she looked at him. He was more aroused by the innocence of her curiosity than he would have thought possible. No one had ever made him feel like this before.

The feather soft touch of her fingers as they stoked his thigh made him groan, and he pulled her down on top of him so that he could kiss her. His fingers sought the zipper on her dress, pulled it down.

"Wait," she told him. She stood up, slipped the dress off her shoulders, and stepped out of it before throwing it on a chair.

She came back to him in black lace underwear, stockings encasing her long, shapely legs. She was clearly nervous, her cheeks flushed with her blushes.

"You're so beautiful," he told her.

Bud pulled her back down to the bed, rolling over to look down on her. She had never seen a man naked before, never had a man look at her the way he was looking at her now, it frightened her, but excited her all at the same time. She loved the feel of his large warm hand as it roamed her body, resting on her thigh for a moment whilst his lips made a slow electrifying journey from her neck to the top of her breasts. His hand returned, his strong fingers tracing the cleft between her breasts before releasing the clasp at the front of her bra. As he revealed each breast he nuzzled at her nipples, pulling at them with his lips, circling them with his tongue. The sensation made her whole body tingle. He nipped at them lightly with his teeth before smiling down into her eyes. His mouth descended on hers, tongue exploring as one hand massaged her breasts and then began to stroke her stomach.

His mouth left hers once more, resumed it's lingering exploration of her body, finding spots more sensitive than she had ever imagined. His hand moved back down to her thighs and deftly released her stockings from their suspenders. He sat up and rolled each stocking in turn down her legs before removing them and then unfastening her suspender belt. He didn't speak, he touched her, the way his fingers lingered on her skin, it was so gentle and yet it was lighting fires deep inside her.

Bud carefully hooked his fingers beneath her panties and slowly pulled them down leaving her naked. Her body was beautiful. She had high firm breasts, the dark pink nipples taught and tempting. Her waist was small and her stomach firm above her dark silken mound. He lay back down beside her and began to stroke the inside of her thighs until she trembled, spread her legs a little wider. His first touch to her nether lips startled her, and her body tensed. He didn't want to frighten her. He waited, kissing her mouth, letting her relax again before coaxing her to open up to him. She was already damp. She gasped as he explored her gently, finding her clit. As he teased her slowly with his finger she began to move beneath him, grinding her hips into the bed, unable to keep still. He brought her close to the brink of orgasm, seeing it's approach in her eyes, loving her deep sighs, her gasps of pleasure.

He moved between her legs, and slowly slipped his finger deep inside her, she was nervous, a little uncertain, he could see it in her eyes. He waited for her to adjust to what she was feeling before he withdrew and then penetrated her again, deeper this time, knitting together two of his fingers, continuing to tease her clit' all the time. She was tight and he knew it would be difficult not to hurt her. He positioned himself at her opening as he continued to tease her. He stopped and pushed his length into her slowly, tearing through her resistance as gently as he could, but still causing her to gasp in pain. He withdrew equally slowly, almost completely, letting her feel him before pushing into her deeply once more. She was so tight when she sheathed him that he was afraid of hurting her, it was taking him every ounce of restraint not to satisfy his own hunger for her. He began to move inside her slowly, gently, watching her wide eyes, feeling her begin to respond, to move with him. He moved faster, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder as her fingers dug into his back. She arched against him suddenly, crying out his name, her grip on him amazing, forcing his own release, violent and overwhelming. He nuzzled into her neck, speech beyond him for a moment.

When he looked at her her eyes were bright, shiny.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked her.

"No, not really." She kissed his lips and smiled at him.

Bud withdrew from her. Rolling over he pulled her into his arms. "Can you stay with me?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I'd like that."

Felicia awoke uncertain where she was for a moment. The first peach glow of dawn penetrated an unfamiliar window. A warm body was pressed against hers, her arm thrown over a broad, powerful chest.

Bud.

At some point he must have covered them both, she was snug in the bed beside him. It was a feeling she wished that she could bottle, that closeness. His warmth, his scent, the softness of his flesh. It was a moment that was hers, a moment unlike any she had ever felt before.

Despite the beginnings of stubble on his cheeks he looked boyish as he slept, vulnerable in a way. Perhaps it was the soft gentle mouth, or perhaps the surprisingly long eyelashes. He had scared her a little when they first met, there seemed to be something about him, something raw, something so very different to anyone she had ever met before. What had happened last night had scared her a little too, but she had not been afraid of him, she had been afraid of herself, of the depth of her feelings for him, the intensity of the desire he stirred in her. She watched him sleep until the sun rose, and then she eased herself out of bed, careful not to disturb him.

Bud opened his eyes surprised to find the place beside him in his bed was empty. He got out, retrieving his under shorts from the floor and putting them on. Her clothes were still there.

He found her in the kitchen, dressed just in his shirt. She had made coffee and was cooking eggs.

He slipped his arms around her waist and tasted her earlobe as he gazed over her shoulder. "Breakfast?"

She laughed. "Scrambled eggs. They're just about the only thing I can cook. I used to make them for my Dad. Sit down and let me put them on the plate before they burn."

He did as she said, amused by the depth of her concentration. She handed him a fork across the kitchen counter.

"What do you think?" She asked him, pouring them both coffee.

He tasted them. "They're good." She seemed pleased and tried her own.

"Does your Dad live back in England?" he asked her.

"He did." He watched her stir her plate with the fork for a moment, her eyes down. "He was killed in a car crash about eighteen months ago."

He reached across the counter and took her hand. "I'm sorry. What about your Mom?"

"I never met her, she died in childbirth. I've seen pictures of her though, and Dad used to talk about her a lot."

"Who do you look like, your Mom or your Dad?"

"My Mum, everybody says so."

"She must have been really beautiful," he told her quietly.

She blushed deeply. "Eat your eggs!"

He laughed. "What's it like where you live?" he asked her.

"England?" she shrugged. "It's quieter I suppose, less cars on the road, a good deal cooler."

"Is that where your boss lives?"

"She has a house in England, she prefers to live in the south of France though. She has a home just outside Cannes. She likes the warmer climates."

"Pretty rich huh?"

"Filthy rich."

"Will she have missed you yet?"

"I doubt it. Why, do you want to get rid of me?"

"No," he assured her. "That's the last thing I want." He leaned over the counter and kissed her. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time Felicia. I'm not about to get rid of you."

"After last night I wasn't too sure. I mean," she blushed. "I sort of sprung things on you and I shouldn't have."

"I didn't hurt you too much, or scare you?" he asked her.

"No." The blush grew and so did her smile. "It was wonderful."

"You think?"

She walked through to his side of the counter, placed her hands on his shoulders. "I think."

As he kissed her mouth he unbuttoned his shirt, slipped his hands inside to cup her breasts, rubbing over her nipples with his thumbs.

"You look good in my shirts," he told her. He moved it aside and noticed the small wine colored stain on her thigh.

"How old were you," she asked him, "When you lost your virginity?"

"Fourteen. I lost it to Lisa Marie Lawrence. I was living with foster parents, she was their daughter. She was sixteen years old and she'd been a woman of the world for quite sometime," he laughed. "Almost every boy in the neighborhood had lost their cherry to her."

"Was she pretty?"

He shook his head. "Not really, but she made you think she was."

"You remember her?"

"I'll never forget her, she scared the hell out of me!" He laughed at the memory.

"You were scared of a girl?"

He nodded. "She was tough, and she was bigger than me." He had arrested her for prostitution about a year after coming on the job. He hadn't recognized her until he saw her parents address on her sheet. She hadn't recognized him either, but she'd been so hopped up she could scarcely remember her own name.

"I believe you," Felicia told him. She looked down at the stain. "I should wash this off."

Bud smiled. "Need any help?"

They made love in the shower, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body pressed against the smooth tiles as he thrust into her, hands beneath her ass, holding her, his mouth devouring hers. Afterwards they soaped each other, explored and teased until the water ran cold.

They returned to his bed to get warm again, holding each other close, talking for hours, reluctant to part.

Jack Vincennes unwound himself from the arms of Meredith Allen-Moncrieff, and slipped out of her bed. He picked up his trousers from the back of the chair where he had not so carelessly abandoned them, and pulled them on.

He needed a drink, a large one. He left the snoring woman and padded into the sitting room to fix himself one. What the hell was he doing here? The first night with Meredith had been a mistake, but this was a disaster.

He was here with a woman he could find nothing to like about, in fact the more time he spent with her, the more he disliked her. The woman was a first class bitch, loathsome and manipulative. So just what was he doing here? Maybe he just liked having his strings pulled. He should be used to that by now after Ellis Lowelle, and that college boy Exley. Now he was being manipulated by some over the hill lush, with a cocaine habit he wished he didn't know about.

He took a pull on his scotch and heard sounds from the other end of the suite. He walked silently out into the hallway to see who it was.

It was a vision, a vision of loveliness. A dark haired young woman in a black dress. She had a natural, understated beauty and elegance about her that made him sigh out loud.

She heard him and turned, a little startled. He realized he had caught her sneaking in, and he wondered from where. Who could have been that lucky?

He didn't say anything to her, he just gave her a friendly co-conspirator smile. He couldn't remember when he had last smiled with that degree of sincerity. It paid off though. The half smile back that she gave him, before going into her room, was a heart breaker.

She had to be Snow White. No wonder wicked stepmother didn't want her around. He wondered what she would think if she knew that she'd been venturing out? He shrugged to himself and his smile became a broad one. Well, what Wicked Step Mom didn't know couldn't hurt her, besides, he'd always had a thing for Snow White.

Hollywood Jack sat in his car opposite Meredith's hotel, the engine running, and smoked a cigarette. He knew he wouldn't go in. Whatever it was that he wanted, he wouldn't find it in there with her. Going in would be the easy thing to do, but he'd had enough of things being made easy for him of late, it hadn't helped his frame of mind. There was no comfort for him there, just some rich elderly, over painted lush, who wanted him to tell her how beautiful she was.

He finished his cigarette and was about to drive away when he saw the lovely Snow White leave the hotel. He watched her walk to where a car was pulled up at the corner. As she approached the driver got out to open the car door for her, and the two of them kissed.

Jack did a double take, unable to believe his eyes. So this was her Prince Charming? Bud White, Bud fucking White! Who would have thought it? And the body language between the two of them, it was just incredible, he felt horny just watching them. What the hell did White have to attract a woman like that? Not that he would be asking him any time soon, not that he would mention this at all, he wasn't a fool. He and White had never had a problem with each other, in fact Jack quite liked the quietly spoken detective. He had seen him in action too many times to fuck around with him though, he wouldn't relish making an enemy of White. The college boy, Exley, had done it, and Jack didn't envy him, White wouldn't forget what he had done.

He shook his head and laughed, as the two of them got into the car and drove away. The wicked stepmother could find her own entertainment this evening. Jack had just had his, and it had made his week. Nothing was going to spoil it for him.

Bud saw Felicia leave the hotel and begin to walk towards the car. She was a little late and was walking quickly. He got out to open the passenger door for her.

She smiled as soon as she saw him, hurried even more. As she moved in to kiss him he pulled her to him, loving the feel of her body against his.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she told him. "She must have changed her mind about what dress she was going to wear a half dozen times!"

He grinned. "It doesn't matter, you're here now." He tasted the soft lips.

"I missed you."

The smile back from those eyes so close to his was overwhelming. "I missed you too."

She got into the car and he climbed in beside her.

"So where does she think you're going?"

"I mentioned the cinema, but I don't know whether she was listening."

"Does she have another hot date with this same guy?"

She nodded. "I saw him, the other night, when I got in. Or should I say he saw me."

"Did he say anything to you, give you any trouble?"

"No He didn't say anything, just gave me a smile. He can't have mentioned seeing me to her either, she would have said something straight away."

Bud wasn't convinced. "If he bothers you tell me, I'll have a quiet word with him."

"I honestly don't think he will, but thank you." She reached over and squeezed his hand.

He had agonized about where to take her. He didn't want to take her to a movie theater, it would be dark in there, and he wanted to see her, talk to her. She had said that she would have to eat at the hotel, there was always dancing again, or a drink, but he wanted to do something different, something that he knew she would love. He thought back to the long conversations they had had wrapped in each others arms in his bed. He remembered all the silly things they had asked each other.

He took her to an ice cream parlor and she loved it, loved that he had remembered what her favorite food was.

"Why is it, that you're sat there with a banana split, and I'm sat here with the tallest glass of ice-cream I've ever seen in my life?"

He smirked. "It was you who couldn't decide what flavor to try."

"So what did you do, order them all?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Close enough."

She laughed and shook her head. "I'll never eat all this."

"Favorite food ice-cream you said. You can eat it all."

"So is there a prize if I do?" she asked him.

He reached out and stroked her face with his fingertips. "That could be arranged," he grinned. "You have to finish it though."

In the end he was forced to help her, just so that she could claim her prize.

Felicia hadn't wanted to leave Bud's apartment, come back here to the hotel, but she knew that she had to. Staying out again so soon would be pushing her luck.

She was still aroused from their lovemaking. Her breasts ached, and she could almost feel him still inside of her. The taste of him, from their goodnight kiss remained with her, and his scent still lingered. She loved the smell of him, loved the feel of his silken flesh against hers.

"Felicia, where have you been?" Her stepmother's voice startled her out of her reverie. She was supposed to be out, what was she doing here?

"I went to the cinema, I told you." She was drunk, Felicia realized, very drunk.

"Until this hour, I don't think so." She stood swaying in the doorway, makeup smeared.

"I went for ice-cream. I didn't think you'd be home yet. What happened to that new friend of yours, the one I met the other night?"

She frowned. "You met Jack? He never mentioned that he'd seen you."

So he had kept her secret. "He seemed an improvement on your usual taste."

"Shut up!"

She watched her sway into the other room to pick up her drink.

"He stood you up, didn't he?" Realization dawned.

"I told you to shut up!" The glass hit the wall beside her, shattering.

"What happened?" Felicia asked her. "Did he catch sight of you in the revealing light of day?"

"How dare you speak to your mother like that?" Meredith screamed at her.

"You're not my mother!" she shouted back. "You're just the gold digging bitch my father was gullible enough to marry!"

"He loved me!" she insisted.

"He'd seen through you, and he'd grown to detest you, and you know it!"

Meredith poured herself another drink. "My my, we are getting big for our britches, aren't we little princess?"

"Does the truth hurt Meredith?" she asked her, surprised at her own courage.

"Hurt? Jack was just a dalliance, nothing more. We're leaving here on Friday anyway."

"What?"

"We're going back to Cannes, the Websters have invited,.."

"I'm not leaving," Felicia told her.

"It's all been arranged, and you have no choice. You do as I say. You're not twenty five yet Felicia, and until you are you don't have a penny. You have nothing except what I choose to give you, and I choose to give you exactly that, nothing." She smiled. "What is it darling, has someone been sniffing around where they shouldn't? Have you been fucked and imagine you're in love?"

"Shut up."

"That's it!" She laughed. "Someone's finally fucked Daddy's little princess! And there was I thinking I was going to have to pay someone to do it. Invite him 'round darling, perhaps I can thank him, give him a couple of dollars for his trouble."

"Shut up!" She made a run for her room, the sound of Meredith's laughter following her, mocking her.

Felicia cried, burying her face in the pillows on her bed so that her stepmother wouldn't hear her.

Her night was a sleepless one as she weighed her options. What became clear was that she didn't really have any, none at all, when Friday came she would have to leave, and that was it. She couldn't stay. The truth was that she'd only known Bud for a few days, she couldn't expect anything from him. She hadn't even told him the truth about herself, she didn't know why, she trusted him. Right from the beginning he had told her the truth, he hadn't tried to hide anything from her, and in those close moments, those long intimate talks, he had revealed so much more, personal things that she knew must have been difficult for him to admit. And what had she done, she had continued to lie. She loved him so much, and yet she'd lied to him. What had she done?

The summons from Dudley Smith, to meet him at the Orbit Lounge caught Bud by surprise. Just for a chat, the message had said. What would the captain want to chat about with him? He told Felicia about it when she called him, and he arranged to meet her afterwards.

He arrived at the Orbit Lounge bang on time, and was surprised to find Dudley Smith already there in a booth, waiting for him.

He slid into the seat opposite him.

"Well Captain, what do you want?"

The Captain smiled slightly. "Call me Dudley."

Not what he expected. "Dudley. What do you want?"

"Look lad," his brogue was soft, his manner of speaking relaxed and friendly. "I admire your refusal to testify, and your loyalty to your partner. I admire you as a policeman, particularly your adherence to violence as a necessary adjunct of the job. And I'm most impressed with your punishment of women beaters. Do you hate them Wendell?"

Bud didn't know whether to be offended, couldn't decide where all this was leading.

"What do you want?" he asked him again.

There was a newspaper between them on the table, covering something. Dudley Smith lifted it to reveal a gun and badge beneath.

"They're yours, go ahead, take 'em."

He didn't need telling twice.

"There's no godamned bill on me?"

"Four of the witnesses recanted their testimony."

"Why?"

"They had a change of heart."

He couldn't believe it. "What about Stensland?"

"Your partner's through, departmental scapegoat on the chiefs orders."

Stens was fucked. "A year from his pension," he sighed. "Exley?"

"Exley made his play and got what he wanted," Smith explained. "As a politician he exceeds even myself. The department needs smart men like Exley, and direct men," he pointed, "like you.

"Look lad, I need you for an assignment the chiefs given me the go ahead on. A duty few men are fit for, but you were born for. You'd be working out of homicide, down at city hall."

Bud's heart almost skipped a beat. "Homicide, working cases?"

"Your talents lie elsewhere Wendall." Smith looked amused at the thought. "It's a muscle job. You'll do as I say and ask no questions. Do you follow my drift?"

He hadn't left him with any illusions. "In Technicolor sir."

For a moment Bud was disappointed, a muscle job, but the hurt didn't last long. It didn't matter what Dudley Smith's special assignment was, he was back on the force, no more suspension. Things were working out for him, the way Felicia had said they would. He was happy, back on the force. He would keep his nose clean. He had what he wanted, his job, and a girl he adored. He couldn't wait to tell her his news.

They had planned to go dancing, she wore a soft lemon dress that almost took his breath away, and he couldn't wipe the smile from his face, or hide the way he was feeling as he kissed her.

She caught his infectious smile. "Are you going to tell me what this Captain Smith had to say? It was good news, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "I'm back on the job."

"What about 'Bloody Christmas'?"

"There's no testimony against me, I don't know how he dealt with it, but he did. He wants me for some assignment, working out of Homicide." He frowned. "It's just a muscle job," he told her.

"It's whatever you make of it. It's another chance Bud."

He nodded. "I know, and I won't fuck it up this time."

She took his face in her hands, stared deeply into his eyes. "I know you won 't." She kissed him, taking the initiative. The kiss was deep and hungry and it surprised him.

He broke the kiss, smiled at her. "Felicia?"

"I'm so happy for you," she kissed his cheek. "We should celebrate."

"Aren't we going dancing?" he asked her, eyebrow raised.

"I thought we might celebrate just the two of us."

"Can you stay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Try and stop me."

Bud was awake, his mind too active to submit to sleep. Felicia was sleeping though, wrapped in his arms. Her head lay on his chest, a delicate hand resting on his shoulder. He loved the feel of her body pressed up against his, her creamy flesh beneath his hands. He stroked his fingers slowly down her spine and she gave a breathy sigh.

They had made love earlier with an intensity that had surprised even him, barely speaking, so hungry for each other that their clothes had been shed within moments of walking through his door. She had been so eager to please him, wanting him to show her what to do to make him happy, he could have asked anything of her. She could not have made herself more vulnerable, he realized, or have shown her trust in him more completely. He stroked his fingers through her hair, and placed a kiss on top of her head, taking in the scent of her. He loved her. He had never thought it possible to love someone so quickly, or so completely, as this.

She stirred and he felt her lips kiss his breast. Her fingers moved from his shoulder and traced a slow tortuous path down his body until they moved between his legs, exploring him with a feather soft touch that caused him to groan.

"What are you doing to me?" he asked her.

She gazed up at him and her eyes were moist with unshed tears. "Let me love you?"

"Hey," he stroked her face with his fingers. "What's this?"

She shook her head and smiled up at him. "I don't know, I'm just happy."

"Happy?" he smiled back at her, unsure whether to believe her.

She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Silly isn't it?"

"You're sure there's nothing wrong, I haven't done anything,.." If he had said anything, done anything to upset her he,...

"No, nothing, it's just me." She stretched up to kiss him softly. "Just me," she assured him.

"Then it's my turn," Bud told her gently, wrapping his arms around her, moving until she lay beneath him. He looked down into the deep blue eyes. "My turn to love you, every inch of you."

"Yes," she murmured softly.

Bud Remembered a time, when he was a kid, when his Mom could never get him out of bed. It had seemed a good place to be, maybe because she put him there, with her soft smile, loving words, and gentle hands. In those days it had seemed a place of warmth, a place where he was safe and secure, a nest. Time and circumstance had changed that. Now it was a place he used because he needed sleep, and sometimes sleep and the darkness held terrors for him far worse than anything he remembered from when he was a little kid. Memories of that day when his childhood was lost to him forever.

Since Felicia the nightmares had subsided, and the bed had become a different place. Not just the place where the two of them made love, but a place of holding, and talking. Even when she wasn't there it was a place to lay and think about her, a nest again?

This morning a nest for two he decided as he rolled over and reached out for her without even opening his eyes. They only opened when he found an empty space beside him. He smiled to himself at the thought of eggs for breakfast, and stretched slowly before swinging his feet to the floor and going to find her.

They had shed their clothes in the other room, and as he went through he retrieved his under shorts from the floor, slipped them on, and then frowned suddenly. Looking around he saw that her clothes were gone, there were no cooking smells, no sounds.

Something caught his eye on the kitchen counter and he padded across, found a sheet torn from the pad beside his phone. It had been folded in half, his name written on it in a neat hand. His hands began to shake as he opened it.

Dear Bud,

I'm so happy for you. You have your job back and things have come right for you. I told you they would on the first day we met, didn't I?

I'm leaving today, my employer is returning to Europe and I have to go with her. I don't have any choice. I was going to tell you last night, but I couldn't, you were so happy and I didn't want anything to spoil that, or to spoil our time together.

I can't begin to tell you how much you mean to me, how much I care for you. I wish more than anything that things could have been different for us.

I'll never forget you Bud, or the time we spent together.

Please, don't hate me.

Felicia.

Bud read it through, how many times, three, four? He crumpled it up into a ball in his fist and walked back into the bedroom, back to his bed. The pillow still had the indentation of where she had slept. He bent to it, caught the scent of her perfume. He lay down in the space she had occupied in his bed, hugged the pillow to him and wept.