Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Leather and Lace ❯ Chapter 2

Leather and Lace

By: Maidens of Konan

(Disclaimer: Fushigi Yûgi is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer. We do claim the rights to the original ideas and characters out of the realm of canon FY. Please do not borrow them without written permission. Violators will be towed away by Nuriko and pummeled to a pulp. )

Chapter rating : PG-13 for a bit of foul language from Officer Dante and co.

Chapter Two

Though the drive to work was easy and a favorite tune was playing on his stereo, Dante found himself unable to sing along like he usually did. A highly charged sense of anticipation had taken him over, telling him that for better or worse, this day was going to be a memorable one.

The feeling intensified when he walked into the precinct and was greeted by the dispatcher telling him his boss wanted to see him right away.

When Captain John Connery beckoned to him from his private office and closed the door upon his entrance, Dante knew that something was definitely amiss. In spite of that, not even the worst scenarios that flew through his mind prepared him for the bombshell that followed his leader's curt invitation to sit down.

"I'll cut to the chase, Tager. You're on city patrol until further notice."

"Whaddaya mean?" Dante exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Go get some rookie to fill in if you're short handed! I got follow ups to do on the Sukinami case-"

The Captain interrupted his loud protests by walking over and thrusting a garment bag into his arms, saying curtly, "We're not short. You're being reassigned."

"This is a joke, right?" Dante stared at the uniform beneath the clear bag as if it contained a live cobra. "Tell me you're jokin'!"

"'Fraid not. It's yours."

"I was hired for the fuckin' plainclothes unit, dammit! What the hell's goin' on?"

"No worries, you'll still be pulling the same salary." Connery sighed heavily, running a hand through his short, iron gray hair. He hated like hell to lose a valuable man like Dante Tager at such a crucial time in the investigation, but orders were orders and he had to follow them no matter how asinine he found the motivation behind them to be. "It seems you stepped on too many toes on your last outing to the company. Only took one phone call from the head honcho to city hall to get you get reassigned by the commissioner himself."

"Maybe so, but it got the desired results!" Dante's savage grin exposed the tilted eyeteeth that had quickly earned him the nickname 'Fang Boy' amongst his coworkers. "My hunch was right! Someone's goin' to great lengths to keep Sukunami out of reach!"

"I'd say so too." The Captain agreed. "But that doesn't-"

"Every time I've called, his assistant tells me he's in a meeting or out of the office." Dante interrupted. "My email messages are blocked. Then finally, when I decide to take the bull by the horns and go there in person, all I get to see is some public relations talking head spewing corporate BS." Eyes the color of amber held excitement. "Don't ya see, Boss? He's gotta have some kinda idea or access to what's goin' down…or the powers that be wouldn't be tryin' so hard to get me off his back! We're gettin' close, we can't ditch this now!"

The captain reseated himself behind his desk, which as usual, was littered with folders and printouts. As he leaned back in his chair, his ice blue eyes surveyed the brash but courageous young man who had more than earned his and his men's respect in the two years since joining the precinct. "You're probably right, but it appears the commissioner has other ideas about that." He stated bleakly. "My hands are tied. I have to follow his orders and put you on the patrol unit. That means no more working on the Sukinami case or any others until further notice."

"The Commish doesn't give a damn if twelve months' work is flushed down the crapper?"

"Apparently not."

"Hell's Bells, you have just as much time into this case as I have, John! It's not fair!"

"No it's not. But as a wise person once said, life isn't always fair." A scowl etched deep lines in Connery's tanned face. "It reeks of underhandedness, but there's nothing to be done but comply, at least until- "

Dante's dour expression brightened as the older man hesitated. "You have a plan to get me outta this?"

"Let's just say I've been around a long enough to witness a few things that the higher ups would rather forget about, and that I use that knowledge for the greater good of my precinct and the community." Connery's rasping chuckle held no humor. "The commissioner practically admitted to me in a personal memo that taking you off the case is illogical and idiotic, which is a sure sign that the order was made under political duress. Well, fuck that! The spineless weasel is pulling rank for his own profit, and I have no intentions of letting his piss ant political aspirations to screw up the promising career of the finest detective I've ever had work for me!"

Dante's eyes grew wide at hearing a rare compliment from the Captain that he idolized. "Boss…I don't know what to say!"

"Then keep your yap shut!" Connery retorted with a brief smile. "Tell you what, Tager- you can help me out by going along with the traffic duty assignment while I call in a couple of favors to get you back where you belong." The older man shook his head as Dante started to thank him. "Not necessary. I'm doing this to save my ass as well as yours, but make sure you keep quiet about it with the others. The less any of you know about what I'm doing on this, the better."

The young detective nodded his head vigorously. "I gotcha! Don't ask. Not a word to the others. Plausible deniability!" He recited. "I know you don't wanna hear it, Captain…but thanks. it means a helluva lot that you're willin' to go to bat for me. There's gotta be something I can do in return!"

"That's not nec-"

"Don't give me any 'it's not necessary' crap! Name a favor!"

Connery scowled. "I'll agree just because you'll badger the hell out of me if I don't. You can get Elise and me tickets to a Broncos' game if it works out."

"Great!" Dante said promptly. "Lower deck, fifty yard line, no argument!"

"You strike a hard bargain, Fang Boy."

Dante stuck out his arm and the two men shook hands across the desk. Although still not openly smiling, Connery's eyes held a twinkle of amusement. "Better get going- your shift starts in twenty minutes."

"Yes sir." The redhead tossed off a casual salute and spun on his heel; as he did so, the silver and turquoise dangles in his ears caught the light. The Captain's eyes narrowed as they flew from the flashy earrings to the long tendrils of hair brushing the tops of the detective's broad shoulders.

"Hold up, Tager!" He barked.

Dante stopped in mid-stride and slowly turned to face his leader.

"You're going to have to do something about the hippy-dippy hair and ditch the earrings- they're not regulation for patrol!" The older man ordered. "And neither are necklaces, by the way," he added, spotting a matching glint of turquoise and silver peeking out from under the neckline of the young man's shirt. "It won't help your case if you get cited for uniform violations on your first day of reassignment."

Dante folded his arms across his chest, looking mutinous. "What's the big deal about my hair? We both know it's gonna be a temporary gig!"

"It's code, and I don't make exceptions for hot-shot detectives!" Connery growled, then picked up his pen and started working on his paperwork with feigned diligence. Perhaps if he avoided eye contact, he'd avoid provoking one of the infamous Connery-Tager shouting matches that provided fodder for wagering amongst the department in regards to who would be the winner by the end of the day. "That's all. You're dismissed. " He prompted, feeling heat from an intense glare burning into the top of his bent head. Sighing mentally, he waited for the inevitable.

"I'm willin' to ditch the jewelry for ya, Boss, but there's no way I'm cuttin' my hair!" Dante declared hotly. "No way in hell!"

Connery threw down his pen in exasperation. "Fine! You don't have to cut it!" He bellowed. "But that damn braid of yours better be tucked out of sight at inspection or I'll fucking hack it off myself right then and there! Are we clear on that, Sargeant?"

Dante snapped to attention. "Yes sir! Totally clear, sir!"

"That's good!" The older man snapped, in a somewhat quieter voice. "Now haul ass, I have work to do!"

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!"

With his new uniform slung over his arm and a triumphant grin on his face, Dante emerged from the office into the outer room to the accompaniment of catcalls and whistles from his fellow detectives. Connery got up to shut the door, shaking his head at the young man's vulgar but hilarious responses to the merciless ribbing. Judging by the volume and severity of the teasing, it was obvious Dante's peers also held the redhead in the highest esteem.

The kid had proven time and again since his arrival that he was a natural leader, and had the heart, guts and smarts to become a top- notch investigator. A promising future in law enforcement lay ahead of Dante if he was given a fair shake and half a chance- and he was the one who was going to help make that happen.

With a hardened resolve, John Connery pulled out his cell phone and began to make calls that would hopefully get his best detective back on the job.

_________________________________________________________________ ______

Fifteen minutes after his meeting with his boss, an impeccably uniformed Dante strolled through the station, oblivious to the sympathetic snickers of his male co-workers and the admiring stares of the female ones. He had to admit the dress shirt, tie, and close- fitting breeches suited him and weren't as uncomfortable as they thought they'd be. He also liked that he'd been issued a pair of the cool looking, expensive Ray Bans he had always secretly coveted. They almost made up for the jewelry that he'd been forced to stash away in his locker, and his braid having to be tucked under his shirt collar.

Whistling a cheerful tune, he headed out the back of the station, and into the parking lot that held the marked squad cars. His displeasure with the task that lay ahead had lightened considerably when he realized that he'd have the chance to actually use the trademark siren and flashing red lights that he had dreamed of playing with as a little boy. Unfortunately, the work of a sergeant detective rarely called for the use of such things, and in Dante's particular case, it never had. He had gone from walking a beat in his rookie year to a plainclothes unit the next without ever having driven an honest-to-god, fully loaded police car.

He found his assigned vehicle, a powerful looking sedan marked with the number seven, and got in, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying thunk of reinforced steel against reinforced steel. After fastening his seat belt, he familiarized himself with the layout of the dash and the two way radio, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life and Dante tapped the accelerator experimentally, a grin spreading across his face at hearing the unmistakable sound of specially added horsepower.

Satisfied that all was well, he carefully backed the car out of its assigned spot and then, in a sudden fit of pique, proceeded to burn rubber out of the parking lot. Once out on the street, however, he drove sedately. Like it or not, he was wearing a uniform and had to set a good example for his fellow drivers. After several uneventful passes around the residential area near the station, he headed for the freeway, hoping that it would at least produce an opportunity for him to use his flashing lights.

It didn't take long for his wish to be granted. As he reached the end of the ramp, a scarlet LeBaron bore down on him, looming closer and closer in his rear view mirror without any appearance of slowing or moving over a lane to let him merge into traffic. With a loud curse, he prepared to take to the shoulder to avoid a collision, then desisted at the last second when the driver abruptly changed lanes and zoomed by him as if he were standing still. Considering that by now he was going almost ten miles an hour over the posted speed limit himself, that was quite a feat.

As he prepared to give chase, Dante mentally shook his head at the foolhardy cheek of the driver, who, judging by the brief glimpse he had gotten, appeared to be young and female.

"All right, lady-if ya want a ticket that badly, I'll be more'n happy to oblige ya!"

_________________________________________________________________ _______

As soon as she saw the flashing lights looming in her rear view mirror, Miaka automatically changed lanes to allow the policeman to go by her. To her horror, the squad car didn't pass her at all but moved in directly behind her, making it obvious that she was the intended target. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she glanced down at the speedometer…and groaned loudly at what she saw. Doing eighty-five miles per hour in a sixty-five mile per hour zone…what had she been thinking? And now it was going to cost her dearly in time, as well as money!

Glancing up in her rear view mirror, she could see the officer making broad gestures for her to pull off onto the wide shoulder of the freeway. She complied immediately, not wanting to make a bad situation worse.

This is no time to plead or make excuses. I'll apologize, accept the fine and be on my way.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Dante shifted the squad car into park and switched off the engine. Following his checklist, he dutifully ran a license number check, which came back negative on all counts, indicating a first offense. He debated with himself about calling in backup for the stop, and then decided against it. From what he could tell from this vantage point, it was a routine stop- some young twit with a lead foot and a bad-ass attitude. Hopefully a stern lecture about not tempting fate and a hefty fine would teach her to ease up on the accelerator.

After grabbing his ticket book off the dashboard, he opened the door of his vehicle and got out, taking a moment to slap the requisite patrolman's hat on his head, and to check that his braid was still safely tucked away under his shirt collar. He pushed the door shut, then moved toward the car in front of him with an easy stride that belied the fact that he was intently scanning the person inside the vehicle for any sign of hostile intent.

Everything seemed to be in order. He could see the young woman had both hands on the steering wheel and her head was tilted back against her seat so that her eyes were raised to the heavens. He also noticed that she appeared to be talking to herself.

Probably cussin' a blue streak because she got busted! Dante thought in grim amusement. What is it with these chicks in red sports cars? Do they think they're invincible or what?

When he was alongside the driver's window, he tapped on the darkened glass, showed his official ID to the female driver inside the vehicle, then put it away while making motions for the window to be lowered. She immediately obeyed his directive, and Dante bent down to look inside the car, fully prepared to give its lone occupant the severe dressing down she deserved and the paper work necessary to considerably lighten her pocketbook.

As the window was lowered inch by tantalizing inch, the lecture he'd been about to deliver completely slipped his mind. A sexily tousled mass of auburn hair appeared first, then two thickly lashed, golden-green eyes whose shape proclaimed their owner's Asian heritage. A very feminine nose and lush looking, kissable lips followed those lovely and intriguing features, all set perfectly within a upturned, heart-shaped face.

Dante's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't look away, he couldn't speak... he couldn't even move, though his heart was pounding as hard as if he had just done a four minute mile.

The vision gave him a tentative-looking smile, sending another shock wave jolting through him.

He definitely knew that smile.

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, he snapped it shut and racked his brain, trying to quickly connect a name with the woman in front of him. Maybe she had been introduced to him at one of the precinct's less- than- official social functions he had attended in the past?

No, that wasn't it. Even then he'd have made a point to remember a hot babe like this one, no matter how drunk he might have been at the time. She couldn't have been a perp, as he remembered every person he'd ever busted since arriving in the Springs. Was she a celebrity of some sort? A singer or an actress? Or maybe a model? She certainly had the looks ...

As his gaze dropped to her bare shoulders, once again Dante gave silent thanks for his sunglasses, which now hid the fact that his eyes were bugging out. Better men than he wouldn't have failed to notice how the bodice of a strapless purple sundress clung to the curves of two perfect breasts and hugged the contours of a trim waist. A full skirt covered the rest of her anatomy, but somehow he was sure that her hips and backside were of the nicely rounded variety, and that her legs would be lithe, long, and as sweetly curved as the rest of her.

If he'd been a wolf, his tongue would have been hanging down to his knees. But was she as nice as she looked?

"Mornin', ma'am." He forced himself to speak gruffly, trying to cover for his loss of cool. "License and registration?"

"Of course, Officer. Here you are." She responded, in a gentle, clear voice that carried a more than a hint of a Japanese accent.

After she handed over the requested documents, Dante scrutinized them all with an intent that was far more personal than professional. Not a celebrity, he thought as he read; just a legal resident alien who was most likely already spoken for- hell, she had to be, considering the high number of military bachelors there were in town! Still, it couldn't hurt to confirm her marital status in case she'd escaped detection.

"Thank you." He paused, pretending to search for her name on the registration papers, "Okay, Mrs. Yuuki. You can have these back."

"It's Miss Yuuki." She corrected with gratifying haste. "I'm not married."

Yes! Dante struggled to suppress the jubilation this piece of information brought on as he placed the paperwork in her outstretched right hand. "All right then, Miss Yuuki…" he couldn't help but add emphasis to the title, "…so where's the fire, hmmm?"

"Where's the fire?" She echoed, her brow wrinkling slightly.

"That's what I'm askin' ya, ma'am."

"I'm very sorry, but I don't really understand the question. Why would I be going to a fire?"

Her eyes held nothing but apprehension and genuine bewilderment, and Dante's lips twitched in rueful amusement at having his sarcasm unknowingly turned back on him. Her English was excellent, but it obviously had its limits.

"Sorry. My bad for using slang." He said, knowing and not caring that he sounded warmer and more conversational than he should have done considering the circumstances. "Ya see, you were doing in excess of eighty-five miles an hour... and to top it off, ya cut me off in changing lanes back by the ramp."

"Ohhh nooo..." Her exhalation was one of chagrin. "That's awful! I humbly apologize to you."

"No harm done. Just don't do it again." To take some of the sting out of the warning, Dante smiled, fully exposing the tilted canines that resembled fangs. "What I meant by asking where the fire is was that anyone drinving a car in that big of a hurry better be a firefighter, a paramedic, or ...ah..."

He subsided into perplexed silence as soon as it became apparent that his detainee had stopped listening. Instead, she was openly staring at his mouth with an expression that suggested she was seeing the impossible. He stared back, fighting the urge to touch his lips or check his teeth for food particles. Why was she looking at him like that?

As if in answer to his thoughts, she spoke.

"Y-You...it can't be...Tasuki?"

Her voice was hushed, and filled with something akin to awe. There was no mistaking the intensity of the feelings behind the question, or that her disbelieving expression had given way to a look of hopeful, tender yearning that both unnerved and excited him. What was the deal here? And who or what the hell was Tasuki?

"Miss Yuuki? Is there something wrong?" He prodded gently.

"No..." Her voice faded, and the slight shake of her head was an afterthought. Silence resumed as she continued to gaze at him.

When no other explaination was forthcoming, Dante folded his arms and regarded the woman in front of him with reluctant suspicion. With his run of luck lately, it would stand to reason that any total hottie he met that also happened to be sweet, nice and available would most likely turn out to be an airhead, a basket case or a fruitcake.

But something was telling him that this woman wasn't any of those things. He felt a strong connection to her, and that she was someone who deserved his help, his protection and everything else that was in his power to give. It was a feeling that was far more than a hunch or intuition... and way outside his scope of experience.

Best not to overanalyze. One thing at a time. There had to be a reasonable excuse for her odd behavior...and now that it appeared she was regaining her composure and ready to talk, he'd allow her the chance to give it.

"Please forgive my rudeness in staring at you, Officer. " She said quietly. "Not that this would be of any interest to you, but...you bear a striking resemblance to a very special man that I knew long ago."

Dante looked down for a moment, struggling to moderate his reaction. She'd given him exactly what he needed. I was right. She isn't a nutjob, I just look like an old flame of hers or somethin'. If that's so, her reaction is understandable. "Why wouldn't I be interested?" He asked cheerfully, looking up. "Always heard that everybody's got a twin somewhere in this universe!"

"In your case, that saying holds true!" Her chuckle carried a note of melancholy. "Your smile is totally identical to his. I'm afraid that it came as a bit of a shock."

He had to ask. "So where is he?"

"In a very remote part of China." She grinned at his visible astonishment. "And to answer the other question you asked me, I'm not any sort of emergency person, I shouldn't have been speeding, and I should get a ticket. Please write up whatever amount you think I should pay."

"Whaaaaat?" Dante exclaimed, distracted from the thought of his Chinese look-alike. "You want a ticket?"

She nodded. "I know policemen have quotas to make. It's the least I can do to make up for my rudeness in cutting you off back there."

For a moment he was rendered speechless. She was looking so earnest...and so damn cute. "Uh, look here Miss Yuuki, I'm willing to bet that you've never gotten one of these bad boys before, have ya?"

When she inclined her head in silent affirmation, he continued. "Well let me say that a speeding ticket in these parts is pretty darn pricey! Aren't ya at least gonna try to talk me out of giving ya one? I promise to consider anythin' you have to say in your defense!" He knew he sounded ridiculous, but he'd happily listen to sob stories and excuses from her if it meant he'd be in her company that much longer.

His detainee's smile was appreciative as she shook her head. "I can offer no good excuses for my behavior, Officer. I was only worried about being late for my date, and wasn't paying attention to how fast I was going. I definitely deserve the ticket."

Ice cold disappointment coursed through Dante's veins. Shit. She has a date. I knew things were going too good!

"Officer? Is that all right?"

"Sure." He said tersely, lashing out at having his hopes dashed. "Suit yourself, Miss. I'll write ya up, but don't say I didn't warn ya!"

"You did, and I won't contest the price of the ticket." She replied, turning her gaze to her front windshield. It remained fixed there as she lifted a hand and brushed back her hair to curl around one delicately rounded ear. She sounded calm and collected, but the hand was visibly shaking before it fell back to her lap and clenched into a tight little fist.

Dante sighed. Despite his severe disappointment, he couldn't be mean. She'd been nothing but polite and cooperative. He was a jerk, taking out his frustration at the situation, her having someone to date, and at having let himself be reduced to a babbling idiot under the influence of a sincere and trusting gaze...

"Women don't play fair." He muttered.

The object of his scrutiny made a startled gesture and looked at him. "Excuse me?"

"Uh...never mind. Just hold on a sec."

Straightening, Dante flipped open his ticket book, reached for a pen, and began to fill out the ticket, writing as slowly as possible as his mind buzzed. Okay, so there's a boyfriend. There's still one more shot to take. She's fair game if they're not real serious. I gotta find that out before I make an even bigger ass of myself.

When he had finished filling in the citation, he carefully detached it from his notebook and then held it and her license out in a way that he hoped would make Miaka have to use her left hand to grab them. To his satisfaction, the ploy worked perfectly. As she took the offered items with her left hand, his heart leapt with excitement at seeing the unadorned state of her ring finger.

No engagement ring, and no indication that she usually wore one.

Though he maintained an impassive expression, inwardly Dante was grinning from ear to ear. He was back in the hunt. Even if the guy had boyfriend status, things couldn't be going that well if she was afraid to be late for a date! Maybe he was the kind who would dump her for not showing up? In any case, it couldn't be a cemented relationship or she wouldn't be ringless, or, for that matter, thinking about some special guy from her past! A guy that she just said looked just like him. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing if it gave him some leverage...

So. He now had her name, phone number and an address for an apartment complex that he knew was only a few blocks from the station. It wasn't going to be hard to arrange to 'accidentally' bump into her and perhaps ask her out for dinner or to a movie. Though he'd say goodbye for now, he'd definitely be finding and seeing her again. Unless, of course, she got in an accident due to her reckless driving...

The thought was so unbearable that he had to do something about it. Not bothering to question the protective impulse, he crouched down so that he was on a level with bewitching green eyes.

"I have something to tell you, Miss Miaka Yuuki." His tongue lingered over the syllables of her given name, a name that seemed to flow over his lips as easily as cream from a pitcher.

"Yes?" She was smiling at him, and somehow he knew that smile had appeared because he had used her first name. It was a smile that said she wasn't offended by his cheek in using it without her permission, but flattered and pleased that he knew how to pronounce it correctly.

The feeling he had was much closer to exhilaration. All of Miaka's responses to him so far implied that she trusted him. It was very important to have that trust...but even stronger was the need to ensure her safety, and to impress upon her that she shouldn't take any stupid chances with her life. Though what he was about to say to her was probably treading the fine line between ethical and unprofessional behavior, he didn't care. He wanted this woman to know that he cared about her personally, protocol and rules be damned.

Yes, it was insane to think he even had a chance with her. But what the hell, he hadn't gotten this far by sticking to the rules.

With that thought, Dante took a deep breath and looked his new objective square in the eye.

"Listen, I'd consider it a personal favor if you'd swear to me that you'll keep to the speed limit from here on out." He told her with a somber intensity that took the smile from her face. "If your date can't wait a few extra minutes for ya to arrive safely for a date, then the moron doesn't deserve to be with ya at all! It only takes a couple seconds to lose control of a car at high speed, and...well, let's just say I'd be real upset to be called on the scene to see your pretty face being covered up with a sheet!"

For one long, belly twisting moment she looked blankly at him, and then a full fledged smile returned to her lips. Her expression filled with warmth... and a comprehension that brought him an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. She had understood his concern and was receptive to it.

It was a good start.

"All right, Officer." She said demurely. "You have my word of honor that I will pay close attention to the road and keep to the posted speed from now on."

"No matter what?" Dante pressed, holding her gaze.

"No matter what." She agreed.

"Okay. Good." He said, unbending enough to give her a smile in return. "Thank you."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you!" She exclaimed, sounding shy and earnest all at once. "You're been very patient with me, and it's sweet and kind to care like that when you don't even know me!"

"Ah, but that's not the case at all!" He corrected her smugly. "I know exactly who you are, Miss Miaka."

As before, the use of her name sparked a radiant smile. But this time there was more, a crackling kind of energy that seemed to surround and encompass her entire body in a faintly shining aura of crimson. The aura reached out, seeking a connection...

Dante squinted at it, wondering if his sunglasses were defective.

"You know about me?" She asked, sounding a bit breathless.

"Yes ma'am!" He tapped the ticket book in his hand. "Your name, address and phone number are logged in right here…" his finger moved to his temple, "…and in here."

"Ah! I see." Her gaze wavered slightly, then steadied. "In that case...I'm glad."

As suddenly as it had appeared, the glowing aura around her had gone. Probably just the effect created by the sunlight bouncing off his sunglasses and her rear view mirror, Dante thought with a mental shrug. Right now, he was more concerned with the fact that Miaka Yuuki was glad he had her number, and that the smile she was presently giving him was definitely bordering on the flirtatious.

"I have a question I wanted to ask you." She said.

"That's fine." He said, thinking it the understatement of the year. "Shoot."

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

He grinned. "More slang. It means; go ahead and ask."

"Oh." She looked away, embarrassed, and Dante felt like kicking himself for being the cause. "Well then, I just wondered… if you happen to have red hair?"

His reply didn't come at once; he was too absorbed in watching the progress of the blush that had bloomed on her face. It was spreading down the curve of her throat to the hollow between her breasts. Very pretty. He could easily picture that color being brought on by much more intimate circumstances-

"I'm sorry if that was too personal." She said, quickly diverting him from his burgeoning fantasies. "Really, I'm not usually so forward-"

"It's okay!" Dante interrupted. If she had a thing for redheads, he was all for showing his off! "You can be as forward with me as ya want!"

Before the inappropriateness of the reply had a chance to sink in, he grabbed the bill of his hat and bared his head with a flourish.

"Here! See for yourself!"

To be continued…

All reviews welcomed with cheers and the happy bandit dance!