Quincy and Tia

"Please." Come the weak gasp.

My smile was cold. "Did she beg you too? Beg you to stop? Well I don't want to stop. I take a great deal of pleasure hurting men who hurt women."

"She-" He didn't or should I say couldn't finish his sentence.

"What? She wanted it? Please. Don't flatter yourself. Just hurry up and die already." I tightened the wire and it sank into his skin and disappeared in a red gush. His death rattle was more of a death gurgle. I held on for a few more moments. Then I pulled my cord out of his neck. Using his shirt I wiped off the blood.

'Sick son of a bitch.' I thought. His M.O. was a perfect evening of dining, dancing, and date rape. I don't deal well with rapists. But its what I do. Sort of a hobby really. When you work in an E.R., eventually you experience all that is life. Murder, car accidents, suicide, abuse, freak and normal accidents, and rape. I get interested in rape. To me, it is an act of violence that never gets fully punished. If and I do mean if a rapist is caught, he goes to jail for five to seven years on the hard end and gets paroled in two. That is the worst it gets. Usually they are out on the streets again after one-year probation. What the fuck is that?

To me, rape is worse than murder because this time the victim lives. They have to go on with their lives. Day after day with the knowledge that a stranger put his hands on them and no matter what they did or said the stranger forces themselves on them. Now assuming the victim lives through the trauma, they now have to face possible pregnancy, the inability to ever get pregnant if the violation was severe, and any other host of STD's.

That's wrong.

So I do what I can to balance things out. I hear about a rape and I take the guy out. Doesn't seem fair? Tough shit. It isn't fair for women to still be attacked even if they've taken all the precautions they can. Defense classes don't mean shit if he has a gun or a knife to your throat, blindsides you with a fist or a blunt object or if you're just plain fucking outnumbered.

Besides, it's not like they don't get a trial. I watch their habits. See how they act around and away from women.

It's not surprising to know that rapists don't think of women as people. It is easier to thrust your body into another unwilling one if you think of them being subhuman. To them, most women are bitches, sluts, and whores. Usually with the exception that are their mothers, sisters, or other female relatives. Though sometimes even that doesn't apply.

But I digress.

I'm Tia Love and I work the three to eleven shift in the E.R. at Curtis Memorial hospital, L.A. Nurse by night, vigilante by later night. I'm not a psycho if that's what you're thinking. I do a lot of waiting and research on these scumbags. Then I kill the motherfuckers. They're getting off easy. If I wanted to go even steven I'd torch their asses while they were alive. I love the smell of burning flesh. It is very calming to me. But I'd have the problem of them screaming and I might not get away fast enough... And some do gooder could put them out before they suffered the painful death they deserved.

But again I'm off on a tangent.

I live in your average suburb with little houses that are all the same. It's where the date rapists live. I work in the city where the violent rapes happen. Between the two I come into contact with a lot of perps, but I try not to make a move until they give me a reason. One of the things I've noticed about these crimes of control; once they aren't in control any more, they sob like babies, beg like children and whine like puppies.

Things they could do to another person against their will are fun, but make them the victim and they crumble. Dicks. At least if they acted a little tougher it would make me less embarrassed about my own sex. I hate being automatically weaker. I have to work my ass off to stay in tiptop shape while some schmuck can almost overpower me. I kicked the lifeless body and started walking home. Staying to the busier well-lit streets. I was too tired for another encounter. I walked into the street and was just about to raise my hand to hail a taxi when there was a police car whoop behind me. I looked over to the unmarked car.

I walked over and smiled.

"Tia, you got off hours ago. What are you doing out so late?"

"Prowling." I laughed. Quincy Dare the detective extraordinaire and my next-door neighbor.

Make that nosy but hot for a white guy next-door neighbor. He was one of the few good men left in the world. A dying breed of Boy Scout-on-your-honor-white-hat-always-gets-the-girl-and-rides-off-into-the-sunset-knight-in-shining-armor type.

"This area is dangerous at night. We have a murderer on the loose." Blue eyes just jump out at you when they are encased in black eyelashes, eyebrows, and hair.

"Really?" I asked, looking startled.

"Yeah. So far only male victims but the pattern could change. Do you want a lift home? Its time for a break anyway."

"No, but thanks." I paused. "Where's your partner? I would have thought he'd have said something like not being a charter service."

"Well, Brian asked for tonight off. I'm flying solo. Come on, I'll take you home."

"Fine." I submitted and climbed into the car. "Can't really argue with a free ride."

"Oh, it's not free." Quincy said with a smirk pulling into traffic.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I'd like to know more about my neighbor. I know you work at Curtis on the evening shift, but what else is there?"

"Its not a mystery." 'I just stalk and kill rapist assholes. No big.'

"Enlighten me. What do you do for fun?"

"I exercise."

"Exercise?"

"Yes. You know; weight lift, run, dance."

"You like to dance?"

"I love a good cardiovascular workout. The harder the better." Too bad I was looking out

the car's window when I said that. I missed his wolfish glance. "So what about you? Mr. Dare? What is your story?"

"Oh, I like it hard and fast too." Luckily this time he was watching the road, so he didn't see my curious gaze at his crotch. Unfortunately he must have felt it. "I meant dancing, Tia."

"I knew that."

"Of course you did." Though his tone said otherwise. "Would you like to?"

My heart beat faster. "What?"

"Go dancing."

"Oh." 'Damn.' I thought. "Sure, but what style?"

"Country?"

I wrinkled my nose.

"Polka."

"Definitely not."

"Salsa."

"Now we're talking."

"When will you be free?"

"Friday." Although Friday was a hot night for hunting rapists, one night couldn't hurt.

Or three Fridays, consecutive. I sat at the nurses' station, humming a samba beat while I looked over a chart. Anna, charge nurse, best friend and movie buddy shook her head and smiled indulgently. "So how's officer Hotness?" Anna repeated herself louder when I did not reply. Anna rolled her chair over to me snapped her fingers and in her motherly voice said, "Tia!"

That got my attention. My mind jerked from the neon lights of the dance club in my daydream to the yellow fluorescent lighting of reality. "Huh?" I said dumbly.

"Wow, he really put a number on you."

"What? What number? Who are you talking about?"

"What I've been talking about for the past five minutes, but you were in your own little world dreaming about Mr. Wonderful to notice. I said: He put a spell on you because you haven't complained about men all night. The shift is almost over."

"He has not put a spell on me. There is no spell to speak of."

"Oh yeah?" Anna turned to the young man filling out a chart in the corner. "Dr. Morgan, Tia hasn't complained about men all night."

The handsome doctor looked up, concerned. "Does she have any other symptoms? Does she have dizziness, nausea, any bleeding from the ears? I think we need to run a CT scan." He winked at Anna and continued charting.

"Ha, ha." I said dryly. "I just wandered a little. All of us are entitled."

"Yes, but not all of us are you that hates men." Dr. Morgan stated. Finished with his chart, he returned it and walked over to us.

"Keep it up and I'll tell your wife about our affair."

Without even missing a beat he said, "She already knows. I use it to get her hot." He and Anna kissed. I shook my head. "But seriously. If this cop makes you happy, go for it. Also I recommend using his handcuffs. It is sensual, his would be real, and he knows the Miranda rights. Very hot."

"Warren, enough. Not everyone shares your need to tie your partner up. Some people hate the idea." Anna said primly organizing her paperwork.

"That's not what you said-"

"Warren Thaddeus Morgan! Be quiet!" Anna snapped, again in her motherly voice.

"Uh oh, somebody's in trouble. She used your whole name. Are you gonna get a spanking?"

I grinned and Warren laughed. "I hope so."

"That is enough, you two are going to get us in trouble. Stop it! You!" She pointed at me.

"Finish your charts. You!" Anna smacked her husband on the shoulder. "Make your rounds. I'll deal with you later."

"Yes, ma'am'." He saluted and walked away.

"Now that is what I call trained." I murmured.

Anna smiled. "Don't try to change the subject. So tell me more."

"Well, we've been going dancing and it is great. We've been told by complete strangers that we should compete professionally."

"Wow. What do you dance? I'm guessing from the music you were humming, it is Spanishy."

"Yeah. It was wonderful. We'd dance into the night." I said dreamily. "I'm even taking some Spanish classes at the community college so I can understand everyone."

"So is it good and heavy between you and officer Hotness?"

"I'll have you know he is the epitome of a gentleman. He walks me to my door and tells me he had a great time. Then he kisses my hand and shoos me inside."

"It drives you crazy-"

"Like you wouldn't believe! It is pure torture. Every time we dance its like having sex standing up in the middle of a crowded dance floor. But then we get home and suddenly I'm with the ice prince."

"I'm sure that's not what he means to do. He probably doesn't want to rush things."

"Rush things? I'm dry humping and he's worried about rushing things?"

"You sound a little stressed, Tia. How long has it been for you?"

"Longer than I wish to mention out loud. He's so very masculine and he smells so good and when we're that close-"

"You just want to rip off his clothes and lay him down right there?"

"Yeah."

Anna gave me a hug. "He'll come around. Tell him how you feel. He's probably suffering worse than you are. And maybe try something different. Like dinner and a movie or miniature golf. Then ask for help with your swing. Trust me, it helps."

"Miniature golf?" I asked distastefully, wrinkling my nose.

"Don't be so urban. It's a great date game. You can talk while you have fun. Warren and

I can play with you if you're afraid."

"I am not afraid. Although your company would be most welcome"

"Good."

When I got home I fed Isis, my black hellion of a cat. She got cranky if her food wasn't fresh. I'd just kicked off my shoes and started warming my precooked grilled chicken and vegetables when my doorbell rang. Isis ran over to the door, put her paws on it and began to purr and meow.

Quincy.

I opened the door and sure enough, there he was looking positively yummy in jeans that looked comfy and worn. Topped off with a black t-shirt. He'd learned that because Isis liked him, he'd have to stop wearing white around her. Isis jumped into his arms. Quincy scratched her behind her ears and crooned. "How's my favorite girl?"

"Keep talking like that and I'm going to be jealous."

"Of a cat? I doubt that, Tia." Quincy sniffed the air. "So what are we eating?" He put Isis on the floor.

"We aren't eating anything. I'm having reheated chicken and vegetables."

Quincy pretended to pout. "You're not going to share? I shared my steak with you."

"After I grilled them." I added dryly.

"And it was good. Although I must say." Quincy sniffed again. "Maybe you should stick to steaks since vegetables seem to be tougher to cook."

"What are you-" I smelled something burning. "Oh-!" I ran to the kitchen and pulled the pot off the stove, but it was too late. My food was crispy charcoal. I shot Quincy a dirty look as he followed me into the kitchen.

"Hey I didn't do anything." He held up his hands in defense. I continued to glare. "But being the gallant hero type that I am, I'll rescue you from the disaster you call dinner. Come on. We'll go out to eat. My treat."

"In this?" I gestured to my scrub uniform.

"You look great." He said. I raised an eyebrow. "I'll wait for you to change." He amended.

"Good answer." I jogged upstairs to my room, and faced the tumultuous task of finding something to wear. As he was in jeans, I chose a tight scoop neck black top and a flowy above the knee skirt that accented my long legs. With my silver toenail polish on I decided my black strappy heels to make them show up better. A little perfume and I was ready.

As I descended the stairs, I could hear him crooning to Isis again. He was dangling one of her gazillion toys while she batted fiercely at it. Come to think of it, she'd gotten more stuff from him than I have. Rotten feline.

What I wanted to play with was safely hidden behind some denim and a zipper. Of course that could change if I voiced what I really want. Instead I said, "I'm ready."

Quincy's eyes traveled upward. He dropped the toy. "Whoa." He gulped.

"Am I overdressed? I thought-" Worriedly I fussed with the skirt.

"No! No, that's not what I meant. You- you look beautiful."

"Thank you." I looked down a moment then back at him, waiting.

"Oh!" He started. "Sorry. Lets go." His hand felt warm and comforting at my lower back. Isis meowed as we left. I couldn't help but smirk at her as we left. Spoiled cat.

We took Quincy's SUV since it was still in his driveway and he owed me dinner. He drove to a nearby restaurant that made a killer New York strip steak but wasn't too expensive.

The hostess greeted us, and Quincy a little more friendlily than I liked, but we were seated fairly quickly, so I forgot it. After our drink orders were taken, we glanced at our menus. That's when I realized, "This is the first time we've sat down together for longer than it takes to get home."

"You're right." Quincy agreed.

"So Mr. Officer, who are you really?"

"That's detective, thank you very much."

"My apologies." I smiled

"Accepted. I come from a family of cops. I'm third generation and so is my younger brother. He's just a rookie traffic cop now, but it's in his blood."

"What does your mom do?"

"She used to be a nurse, believe it or not." Quincy laughed ruefully.

"She isn't anymore?"

"No, she died. A malignant tumor in her brain."

"I'm sorry."

"It has been three years, and I keep telling myself I'll get over it, but I just can't. It's awful watching someone deteriorate and there is nothing you can do." We were quiet for a moment.

"If you want to talk, I'm here to listen. Anytime."

"Thanks. That means a lot." He replied quietly taking my hand in his rubbing it lightly.

"What is your family like?"

"Well, I'm an only child-"

"I knew you were a spoiled brat."

"Hey I didn't interrupt, rude much?"

"Sorry, continue." Quincy nodded then chuckled, "Your highness."

I stuck my tongue out at him. Then I pretended not to note the hitch in his breathing.

"Believe it or not I'm the black sheep of the family."

Quincy choked on his wine. "Come again?" He laughed.

I gave him a dirty look. "You know what I mean."

"Mmhmm." He nodded, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Your family is into law enforcement, mine is into medicine. I was the first to break tradition."

Confusion wrinkled his brow. "But you are a nurse."

"Exactly. My mother and father, their parents and an uncle are all doctors. I scored well on the MCATs, but I like nursing. I love working face to face with my patients. Besides, I want to have a life."

"I guess you get a lot of drama in the emergency room after all."

"More like the sniffles and the occasional broken limb. The real thing isn't like the TV. show. I never understood how they got so many awards when they make so many mistakes. Although I have to admit, I'm hooked. Dr. Kovach is totally hot."

"Really?" Quincy furrowed his eyebrows. "I always thought Dr. Carter was a cutie."

"Yeah, he really did it for me when-" I stopped when Quincy burst out laughing.

"You take that crap seriously don't you?"

"I do. But it is the same with cops and any murder mystery shows, isn't it, detective?"

"I'll admit watching Cops and CSI. But I'd bet you cry if you don't get to see your shows."

"No, I just go and strangle an annoying neighbor."

"Ouch." Quincy rubbed his neck as if he could feel the wrathful grip of my hands. Then he turned and spied our entrees headed for us. "Ah, it looks like the waitress granted me a reprieve. Tell me," he asked as the waitress set our orders in front of us. "Do you get angry if you miss a T.V. show, or do you just ask someone to tell you about it?"

"It depends. If it is a show I don't care about, yeah, I'll have them tell me. But if the show is E.R., I get homicidal. I need my weekly Kovach fix."

I turned a smug smile to Quincy. "And wasn't Dr. Carter cute too?"

"Totally. Well, enjoy your meals." Tucking the tray under her arm, and left us to do so.

Without a word I started to cut my steak while Quincy grumbled about fanatical females.

When we left after I gave a really big tip to the waitress when Quincy wasn't looking, we headed for his SUV and ran into Brian Montgomery, Quincy's partner. Brian and his date, a bubbly giggling blonde twig were on their way into the restaurant.

"Hey!" Quincy called. "Going to eat?"

I mentally cringed. 'Duh!' I thought. 'Why else go to a restaurant?'

But I guess guys forgive that kind of obvious statement because Brian just nodded and said, "Yeah, Sarah and I thought we'd get a bite then go hit the clubs." Brian smiled and looked over at me. "Whoa, Tia? Is that you?" He whistled. "Nice legs, girl! Who would've thought you had those under those shapeless scrubs you always wear."

I'm so glad I'm black and no one could see the blush that was burning my face. " You know what they say..."

"A lady on the street means a freak in the bed!" Brian finished laughing. Sara had another giggling fit. How annoying.

"No," I said slowly. "Actually I meant clothing doesn't make the person."

"Same diff. Anyway, we're going to eat. Are you going out or are you turning in? Its understandable at your advanced age to want to turn in?" Brian smiled evilly. "Although we young people are probably going to watch the sun rise."

"That sounds like a challenge." I said to Quincy. "Does that sound like a challenge to you?"

Quincy nodded gamely. "Yes, yes it does. They think we can't keep up."

"Well Brian, put your mouth where your feet are and pucker up. We accept. And as the challenged party, we decide what we do." I nodded at Quincy.

"And that is-" Brian asked.

"Salsa dancing." We replied in unison.

"Dancing? You sure? I mean we could do something more your speed. Like checkers."

"We're sure. Question is, are you?" Quincy demanded. "There's a club on California and Fourth. We'll meet you there."

I looked at Sara's feet. "You may want to change into sturdier shoes. I'm going to too."

Sara, ready for a feminine showdown just said, "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Quincy and I turned back towards his SUV.

"Hey!" Brian called as we got into the vehicle. "How will we find you?"