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The next morning, CBI was in a turmoil. It seems that Hightower
had called Cho and pulled him from his stake out. Hightower had
received a call from a Commissioner, claiming that the FBI was taking
over. Tracing the call that Hightower had received simply led to
a phone booth on the street below. As Lisbon had commented, it
was a rookie mistake, but so far, Hightower's performance had been less
than stellar. Patrick had oscillated between morose and angry, all morning, and had finally settled on self-blaming depressed. Kristina had almost been killed because he'd been less than attentive. If it hadn't been for Eliza... There there was a mystery wrapped in a conundrum! How and why had she been there at exactly the time of the attack. Patrick realized that Elvis was not going to reveal anything to him, and the day passing quickly. He'd been questioned about the remainder of the night that he'd spent with Kristina, but he'd made that sound very platonic, one professional covering for another. Only due to his ability to manipulate his body language, had he been able to sell it. He'd realized that he had real 'feelings' for Kristina. He suspected that she was a con artist, but so was he. Maybe the old saying that birds of a feather flock together was true. "Jane. Jane! Jane, go home," Lisbon said. "Jane, focus. Go home. The day is almost over and we're not going to make any more progress, today. Patrick shook his head an focused. He smiled and sat up. "I hear you, Boss." He stood and prepared to leave for the day. It was unusual to be one of the first ones out. He looked as Lisbon and realized that he was seeing her as a leader and friend, not in the more personal way that he was used to seeing her. Maybe being with two willing ladies in a short period of time was altering his viewpoint. Lisbon had been anything but willing. He shook his head, not sure of his own emotions and walked out of the building. When he got to his apartment, he wasn't all that surprised to find that he had a guest. The note on his door, "Hi, handsome." was a dead giveaway. He carefully unlocked his door – How did she do that??? - and pushed it ajar. "Eliza?" he called. She opened the door the rest of the way. "Tis I, good Sir. I come bearing gifts." She held up a bottle of rum. "I couldn't find Palinca, so I got Black Seal, 151." He rapidly exhaled, a short little puff of air. "You must have a cast iron gullet," he observed. "But before we get going on that stuff, we have to talk about last night." Eliza grinned and handed him a double shot, straight up and a glass of soda water on the side. "I think we can do both, more or less, at the same time. I talk a lot better once I'm lubricated, you know." She sat on the couch and put her drink on the coffee table in front of it. "Join me?" she said patting the cushion next to her. Patrick took a sip of the rum, made a face, and then took another. He stared at her, taking in her total appearance. She was dressed typical Eliza: Mid-thigh, form fitting black leather skirt, dark semi-translucent silk blouse, Mid-calf black leather boots, and dark lipstick, maybe black, maybe very dark red. He wasn't sure which. Her cape was on the other side of the room, but it was present. He smiled. "Eliza without her cape would be odd," he thought. She smiled and took a sip of her drink, the movement emphasizing her firm but tiny breasts. He sighed and sat next to her. She nipped his neck, causing him to almost spill his rum, but she caught his hand and steadied it. "Careful, Guy. We don't want to be losing any of the good stuff, now do we?" He grinned, rubbing the side of his neck. "Of course we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?" He looked at his fingers as he lowered his hand and realized there was a little blood! Eliza saw it too. She took his hand and put his slightly bloody fingers in her mouth and licked them clean. "Oh, it seems I brought blood!" She smiled. "I hope it doesn't hurt too much." She leaned over and kissed the spot on his neck, letting her soft, warm lips linger over the little nick until it stopped bleeding. "There! Is that better?" Patrick felt slightly dizzy. Taking another sip of the rum, he thought, "This stuff really does go to your head." He smiled. "Much better," he said, realizing that he was telling the truth. What had been stinging quite painfully was now absolutely pain free. He turned and faced her, his face only inches from hers. "Eliza, what happened last night." Eliza grinned. "Unless I'm wrong, I'd say you got lucky!" Patrick instantly blushed, all control momentarily lost. "That's, that's..." "Oh," Eliza said, "that's not what you meant, is it?" She paused and pursed her lips. She took the rum glass from his hand and sat it on the coffee table next to hers. She grasped his shoulders and pulled him towards her, pressing his lips to hers. He momentarily resisted, but when their lips met, he became a totally willing participant. Time passed and she finally pushed him back. They were both flushed and breathing hard. "Wow," she said. "Ok, you wanted to know what happened last night," she said, as if nothing had happened. "I realized that Kristina was being protected, so I assumed that she was in some danger. Now, I've met her and she seems like an OK person, and you like her. I thought I'd check in on her just to keep her company and to make sure that everything was OK. As I arrived, I realized that everything was not OK, so I did what I had to do, then I called you. See? No big mystery." Patrick nodded. "I see. No big mystery. Kristina said you got shot and I saw the blood. Show me your side." Eliza smiled. "You just want to see my boobs," she said, quickly slipping out of her blouse. Patrick did take a moment to appreciate them, but then he lifted her arms and examined her ribs. He quickly realized she had the muscle development of a body builder, though her frame was tiny. No wonder she was so strong! He finally found a thin white scar that ran across her side about elbow high. "Is this the wound," he asked. She nodded. "If you want, you can kiss it and make it better." He realized that her hands were on the back of his head, pulling him towards her. "Oh," she said. "That is not my side!" She gasped. "Ah, but that's OK. You keep right on doing that." Moments passed, he leaned back breathing hard. "You, you, heal quickly, I see." "I was lucky. It really was only a scratch, but that cape has another bullet hole in it." "Another?" Patrick questioned. "Just how many bullet holes does it have?" Eliza stuck her tongue out at him. "Only one at a time, if I'm lucky. I have them patched." Patrick took another sip of the rum, realizing that he'd just consumed at least a double shot of 151 proof rum. "No wonder I'm feeling a little giddy," he mused, taking another few moments to enjoy that sight of a half naked Eliza next to him. "Mmmm. I see that I'm having an effect on you." She glanced at the obvious bulge in his trousers. "That looks uncomfortable." She quickly unzipped his trousers and loosened his belt. "That looks much better," she said, rubbing him with her palm, grasping and squeezing. He groaned. "What do you want, Eliza? Why are you here?" She pushed him back onto the couch, and nose to nose, he could see the colors of her eyes shifting. "Why Patrick, I'm here for you. I want you!" oOOOo |