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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

not-too-bright gradeschooler.

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

inside.

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

the Author

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