This week, since it's almost Thanksgiving, I thought I'd write a little bit about Vinnie and Ethan. As you may have noticed, I love these guys lol Marshall and Lee (whom I also love) will be back next week. I hope you enjoy this, and I do plan on writing more, but it may not happen until after Thanksgiving lol I'm going out of town Thursday, but I'll be back!
Vinnie and Ethan weren't always in love, of course. I don't think Vinnie even particularly liked him at first! So, let's take a peek at the way they used to be! Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they're up to. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
A Vinnie and Ethan Thanksgiving, Part I
Ethan Thorne, I decided, was a thorn in my side—no pun
intended—and had been ever since we got out of training. Whoever had the idea
of teaming me up with that pretty boy should have their head examined. As soon
as the holidays were over, I intended to ask for another partner. I knew better
than to try any sooner. The office staff let it be known that any extra
paperwork they received would be “accidentally” buried, and probably not see
the light of day until the new millennium. Since I didn’t intend to be around
then, I realized he was going to remain my problem until at least the start of
the next year. And then he’d be gone so fast, it would make his pretty head
spin.
Happy New Year, Ethan, here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?
It was Thanksgiving Day. We were working a case in Duluth,
Minnesota, a suspected kidnapping. The weather was cold, but nothing I wasn’t
used to, coming from Joliet, Illinois, which is just south of Chicago. Thorne
was a Southern boy—I think he said Atlanta—and while he didn’t complain about
it, I could tell he was cold. And hard.
That didn’t come out right. I meant hard, like tough.
Yeah, sure I did. I wasn’t looking at him, honestly I
wasn’t. But we ended up having to share a motel room—another damn office snafu,
but one I could do nothing about. And the man wasn’t shy about parading around
in his underwear. Or a towel. Was it my fault he was built for days? So what if
I noticed? I wasn’t blind.
Okay, scratch all that. Focus, Vinnie, focus!
The kidnapping victim was twenty-five, which made him older
than either of us. Thorne was about my age, twenty-one. The victim came from an
affluent Duluth family. It was believed he’d been taken strictly for monetary
gain. A ransom demand had been received, asking for a million dollars, and the
parents were even now putting the money together.
Luckily for us, the
kidnappers weren’t overly bright, and we’d gotten a lead on their whereabouts.
We sat outside the suspects’ house, on a quiet street in residential Duluth. We
weren’t leads on the case, but we were the unlucky schmucks who caught
surveillance.
My cup runneth over.
“I bet your family will be sorry to miss you,” Ethan
commented. He sat behind the wheel, while I’d been relegated to the passenger
side. For some reason, he had this need to always drive. A habit I intended to
break him of. Well, I would if we were going to stay partners. It probably
wouldn’t be worth my while for the short time we’d be together.
I grunted noncommittally. “Don’t have any, what about
yours?”
“They understand,” he replied, and fell silent.
Our binoculars were trained on two men inside the house.
They’d ordered take out a while ago, and it had just arrived. They were setting
everything out on a coffee table in the living room. Looked like a turkey
dinner. They also had a bottle of whiskey, and had been hitting that pretty
good all afternoon. Lot of food for two people, while we were relegated to what
we’d brought with us, which wasn’t hot, and certainly wasn’t turkey. In the
meantime, the temperature was plummeting as the sun dropped lower and lower
into the sky.
Damn, this was boring. But then no one ever promised
surveillance would be fun.
“They look awful relaxed, don’t you think?” He broke the
silence.
“Yeah. Liquor will do that to you,” I snarked. “Too bad we
don’t have any.”
“If we did, think it might make you like me any better?”
Where had that come from? I lowered my binoculars, which
were trained on the suspects, and turned to my partner, mouth dropping open.
Ethan was smiling, but I could swear I saw something wistful
in his eyes.
I mumbled something I’m not sure was even slightly
intelligible.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Again, I was amazed. This was probably the longest personal
conversation we’d ever had, which wasn’t saying much. Most of the time, I
discouraged anything beyond subjects relating to work. I thought he’d
understood. Guess not.
“What makes you think I’m gay?” I blurted out. Sure, I was,
but how did he know? I’d never had a boyfriend, never been hit on by anyone. At
least, not that I was aware of.
“Wishful thinking, maybe?” Again with those eyes. I found
myself getting lost in all that blue. To my horror, I was also sliding closer
to him. And were my lips parting, almost expectantly? What the hell?
I put the brakes on that right quick, ducked down as if I
was picking up an imaginary something. Being clumsy though, I managed to
overreach, and ended up with my head in Ethan’s lap, to my horror.
Damn, he was hard.
I scrambled back into position, painfully aware that I had
an erection myself, which fact I’d done my best to ignore. I grabbed the
binoculars and stared at the house.
“How about them Cubs?” I said the first stupid thing I could
think of.
“Vinnie, it’s November. Baseball season’s over.” Ethan
gently removed the binoculars from my shaking hands, and suddenly our mouths
were fused, and the most incredible sensations were rocketing through me.
This was it. My first kiss. With Ethan Thorne, of all
people.
By the time he drew back, I was shaking like a leaf and
breathing hard. I was thinking… hell, I don’t know what I was thinking. My body
was sending out definite signals, though.
“When we get done here, I think we should talk, Vinnie,”
Ethan said. I darted a glance at him. I could tell the kiss had affected him
too.
I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded. We raised our
binoculars to our eyes once more.
I had a feeling this was a Thanksgiving I’d never forget.
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