Jan Wiles - 1999
<Back to fiction page>
This is a PG-rated epilogue to my adult story "The Ayes
Have It". It's a thoroughly silly little thing that I
hope can stand on its own. Happy Valentine's Day!
Anyone who wants a copy of the original story is welcome
to send me a request *with* an age statement, and I'll be
happy to give them a copy.
Permission granted to archive to Mel's fkfanfic website, the
FK ftp site, the Mortal Love website, and (if they let me
post) the JADFE site. All others ask me.
As usual, Nick, Nat and Forever Knight belong to Jim
Parriott and Sony/Tristar, not to me. I claim no rights
over them whatsoever (other than having fun!). Peter
Stewart *is* mine, though, and I'm going to have some fun
with him, too...
Rookie officer Peter Stewart sang happily to himself as he
headed back to the 96th precinct on his motorbike. Granted,
it was his first time on the night shift, and he'd spent it
on glorified courier duty, but he'd been out on his own. It
felt good not to be hovered over and chivvied around like a
Like last week, for instance. His face burned at the memory
of the demonstration at the morgue. He'd really made a fool
of himself during the autopsy, although at least he managed
to hit the trash can when he got sick. And he *did* recover
enough to ask that attractive lady coroner an intelligent
question or two. Still, he felt that he'd hardly covered
himself with glory there...
As he made a left turn, he noticed a large green ragtop - a
Cadillac - parked at curbside. He was surprised, as this was
a main drag and there were no other parked cars this time of
night. As he paid more attention, he noted that the car was
rocking and the windows were fogged up.
Stewart laughed to himself, remembering his teenage sessions
of making out in the back seat of his own car. He also had
no trouble recalling the inevitable denouement of these
incidents, as campus security would shine their lights in the
windows and ask him to move on. On a whim, he decided he'd
better keep up the tradition, and pulled over.
Smiling, he got off his bike and walked back towards the Caddy.
The grin began to fade from his face, though, as he noticed
that the car was rocking wildly, and the people inside were
really flailing away at each other. It looked far more like
a fight than anything else.
The rookie stopped to think. Procedure called for him to
request backup in this situation, but he was afraid that the
delay would cause someone to get hurt. Summoning up as much
authority as he could muster, he strode up to the Caddy's door,
and rapped sharply on the window. There was a pause, and then
the window inched down enough so he could see the two people
Stewart tried to look severe. "Might I ask what's going on?"
he demanded. "There looks like there might be a problem - Dr.
Lambert!" It was, indeed, that sympathetic lady coroner. He
could not help but feel protective as he glared at the man,
and asked, "Are you all right, Doctor?"
"Everything's fine, Officer, really." Dr. Lambert's answer
sounded a little choked.
Stewart's suspicions rose. He recalled the class on domestic
disputes, especially the part about how abused women often
tried to protect their abusers. "I'm going to have to ask
you to step out of the car." He stepped back and gestured
for the door to be opened.
Dr. Lambert shook her head and grinned. "Officer Stewart,
if you try to arrest Detective Knight--"
Stewart froze. Him? *He's* the cop they call the Knightmare?
Oh, man, now I feel like ten different kinds of fool!
"--for the terrible crime of having a ticklefight with me--"
OK, make that *twenty* kinds of fool...
"--Captain Reese will eat you alive, and you'll be the
laughingstock of the precinct." The coroner seemed to be
trying for the understanding expression she'd worn the day
of the autopsy, but it was badly spoiled by the giggles she
couldn't quite suppress.
Stewart darted a glance at the man, who didn't look much like
a Knightmare. Indeed, he seemed to be fighting off helpless
laughter - and was losing the battle. Now Stewart saw what
he'd missed before; the intimate body language, the loving
glances and gentle touches. There was truly no danger here.
He wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
Instead, he stuttered off a few apologetic words, and stumbled
back to his bike. Even through the now-closed window, he
could hear them laughing. At least they didn't do it in my
face, he thought miserably. As he mounted his bike, he heard
the Caddy start, then saw it pull around him and drive off.
Stewart sat for a while with his head in his hands. He
reflected that embarrassment didn't kill you, but for a while
you wished that it would. Now he could remember the locker-
room gossip about Detective Knight and Dr. Lambert. The pair
claimed to be just friends, but everyone laughed at that.
There were even bets going on as to when they'd finally come
out of the closet, and even one bet (a very quiet one) as to
when they'd finally jump in the sack together.
He brightened as he realized he could finally get in on this
discussion. With a little judicious pruning, this would be
the locker-room story of the week!
So he headed back to the precinct to make his report.
The End<Top of Page> the Author
to the Non -Adult Fiction