To Serve & Protect: The Stalker

The young woman moaned and twisted under her lover. His bulk pinned her helplessly to the bed. His kisses ravaged her mouth, his driving tongue exploring every bit of it. She arched her back, meeting the hard thrusts of his cock with savage punches of her hips. Every stroke plunged deep into her open, dripping pussy. His chest mashed her throbbing nipples back into her full breasts and ground them in circles as he pounded her with all his strength.

She screamed as she felt his body tense. Then she was crying out again and again as his cock slammed into her g-spot and he emptied himself in her. In the throes of her orgasm she raked his back, leaving the deep scratches she always did to mark him as hers. She felt his hot seed filling her womb and knew this time they would beget his child.

She shuddered and opened her eyes. Her hand slowed its motions from between her splayed wide legs. Her clit pulsated and her vaginal muscles still held onto the three fingers she had plunged deeply into herself.

Rising, she walked to the dresser in her apartment. Almost absent-mindedly, she sucked her fingers. For one brief moment, she imagined she could taste his cum there. She picked up his framed picture from where it stood amongst the candles and flowers she kept it surrounded it with.

"One day, my love, one day you will be mine." Her blissful expression darkened as her eyes sought the picture of HER on the far wall. Stapled to the old dart board, it bore the rents caused by the knife stabbed in the middle of her face. "And you, you bitch, you'll not stand between me and the man who loves me anymore. Soon, Pat Gibson, very soon Mike will be mine, as it was always destined to be."

Days passed. She kept a close eye on her rival, closer than she was able to keep on her beloved. One night she slipped into the backyard of the Gibson home.

Peering into the French doors leading out onto the low built deck she could see much of the family room. Her heart leapt as she saw Mike settled in a recliner. His son sat in his lap and his two daughters perched on the arms of the chair. She strained her ears but could only catch the low, soft rhythm of his voice. Undoubtedly, he was telling them a bedtime story.

She ground her teeth as that woman entered. Pat scooped the little boy from his father's lap and carried him into the back part of the house. The girls kissed their father and followed. Windows briefly showed lights and then went dark.

She drank in the sight of Mike as he stretched out in the recliner. She thought of all the things they would be able to do together once they were together. It would be so wonderful.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of Pat. The interloper was only wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her bottom. She swung herself onto Mike's lap, facing him. Her arms went around his neck and she wiggled her butt against him. Leaning forward, she seemed to whisper something in Mike's ear.

Whatever the words were, they produced an immediate reaction in Mike. He suddenly stood and scooped her up into his arms. Kissing her, he carried her out of sight. Knowing what was taking place, the watcher shed a tear, rushed back to her hidden car and drove home.

How could he do that? What could he possibly see in that short tramp? She had heard stories about Pat. She wasn't a fit mate for a man like Mike. The woman examined herself in the mirror. She was tall and slender, fit and trim. She took care of herself. Mike had to have noticed. He had smiled at her several times and complimented her. She knew he secretly wanted her as much as she wanted him. It was time. Tomorrow she would see that obstacle removed.

Early next morning, Pat dropped Mike, Jr. off at the pre-school he attended. After hugging his mother, the four year old rushed over to his teacher, Ms. Rachel. Smiling, he handed her an apple.

"Thank you very much, Mikie." The return smile from her made the young boy almost burst with pride. He immediately went to his seat and pulled out his drawing pad and colored pencils in preparation for the first class.

Pat giggled. "Stealing the attention of my son, are you? Rachel, when in the world are you going to get married and have a couple of your own?"

"I don't know Pat. It seems every guy I meet is married or gay. Or both. And heck, I've got 25 children right now. Where would I fit any more?" They both laughed. As Pat turned towards the door, Rachel called after her. "Pat, don't forget about the fund raiser next week. We're counting on you to do your magic act."

"Okay Rachel." Pat walked over to her son and kissed him. With a flourish, she pulled two quarters out of the boy's ear. "Here's your milk money, Mikie."

Pat drove to the Central Precinct. Parking her unmarked unit in front she entered the door. She stopped for a minute to talk to the dispatcher on duty, always the quickest way to find out if anything interesting or exciting was going on. After checking her in-box, she caught up on paperwork. Frowning over one open case, she decided to hit the street.

As she left she looked at the time. Sticking her head in the dispatcher's officer she asked. "Kay, can I use one of the phones? I left my cell in my car and I need to call my son's pre-school."

"Sure Pat."

Nodding her thanks, Pat called and got through to Rachel. Her friend instantly agreed to keep Mikie until Pat could swing by if she ended up running a bit late.

As she expected, running down the lead she had come up with carried her past her usual quitting time. Checking her watch she figured she had just enough time to stop by the house on the way to school. She called out-of-service as she pulled up and ran inside.

One advantage of her irregular hours was that she could often arrange to swing by the house and get something healthy when she needed to nibble, avoiding the hamburgers and fries that so many cops fall victim too. Thankful that Rachel had agreed to keep Mikie for a few extra minutes, she was munching a handful of carrots when the phone rang.

"Hello."

"Don't talk. Just listen," came a muffled female voice. Something in the tone of the woman's voice made the hair on the back of Pat's neck stand up. Reaching down, she hit the "Record Message" button on the answering machine. There was a pause. The voice called "Say hello now," and then a familiar little voice in the background spoke up.

"Mommy?"

"Oh God, Mikie? Who is this? What are you doing with my son?"

"I told you not to talk you bitch. Just do. Get in your car right now and drive. You'll find directions in an envelope in your car. And don't call the station. I'll know about any attempt to contact your husband or any lookout placed on your son. Come alone and completely unarmed or he dies. Hang up and go."

Pat carefully hung up the phone and considered her options. There was a self-assurance in that voice that made her think the woman was indeed somehow capable of knowing if she called the department. She walked back to the bedroom, undoing her belt as she did. She slipped off her holster and placed her sidearm in the drawer she and Mike kept their weapons in. Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath she walked to her car.

She looked in the back seat. A plain white envelope was perched there. She opened it and scanned the contents. There was an address. Her heart sank as she saw the list of cell phone numbers and the warning that they were being monitored. She realized someone with this much access could very well have the capability to do exactly as she threatened.

However... Pat flipped open her clipboard and rummaged through the storage compartment. She pulled out a stamped envelope. Stuffing the letter inside, she addressed it to her friend Lieutenant Linda Shannon's home address. Cutting through a store parking lot, she paused to drop the letter in a corner USPS mailbox.

She found the address without difficulty. She couldn't think of why it seemed vaguely familiar but it did. Following her instructions, she parked in the back and walked up to the door. She turned the knob and came in.

"In here," came the female voice. Pat knew she had heard it before now. She cautiously walked into what was apparently the living room. She saw the woman standing there and her jaw dropped.

"YOU!"

"Me," the woman answered smugly. She held Mikie's shoulder, pulling him back when he would have run across the room.

"what is this all about? What are you doing?" Pat asked.

"You know damn well," the woman spat. "You stole my man."

She went off into a torrent of ranting abuse. Somehow among all the words and curses and name-calling, Pat manage to discern the woman's fixation on Mike. It frightened her. It frightened her badly because she was absolutely sure that Mike had no idea about this. Therefore this woman was completely off in her own world. Coupled with the knife she held in her other hand, Pat was as terrified as she had ever been in her life.

Finally pausing for breath, the woman glared triumphantly at Pat. "But now it all ends. You aren't going to be a problem anymore. Pick up that little pretty pill on the counter. Slowly now. Its such a shame, you killing yourself. But I have your suicide note right here."

Pat looked at the woman. The look in her eyes was wild. She definitely was insane. There was no use pointing out the innumerable flaws in the woman's logic. Pat's "suicide" would never be bought nor would Mike have any interest in this female. And that was frightening in itself. The next person "standing in the way", when Mike did not respond, might be any of the children. She carefully picked up the pill, her eyes boring into the woman's friezened gaze. Pat pointed her free hand at her and warned. "If you harm my son, not even death will keep me away."

"Take it, take it or your son dies," the woman laid the knife blade on the little boy's throat.

Pat looked defiantly at her. Then she tossed the brightly colored pill in her mouth and swallowed. For a seeming eternity both women stared at each other. Then Pat's face grimaced. She shook as pain crossed her face. Her hands clutched her mid-section and she fell, first to her knees, and then helplessly onto her side. Her body stiffened, spasmed and then lay still.

"Mommy!" Mikie cried out.

"Shhhhhhhh, its okay little one. I'll be a much better mommy than that slut ever dreamed of being." Triumphantly she walked to Pat's body. "And a much better wife than this bitch could have imagined." She kicked Pat in the ribs, once, then again.

Suddenly hands shot up and grabbed her foot. They twisted and the crazed woman sprawled onto the floor. Pat surged to her feet. Grabbing Mikie, she pushed him towards the door. "Run baby. Don't look back and don't stop until you can find someone to call your Daddy." She turned and faced the other woman with a look in her eyes that had frightened large, muscular men.

"What, how, you're supposed to be dead! I saw you take the pill."

"Nope." Pat pulled a small bag of M&M's from her pocket. "The hand is quicker than the eye."

The other woman gave an scream and charged Pat with the knife. Pat spun and kicked the hand with the knife. The blade went flying and she completed her spin by slamming her foot into the woman's stomach.

Every other time Pat had used that maneuver, the subject had immediately hit the floor and stayed there. But then she had never had to deal with an insane woman before. With scarcely any hesitation, the woman lunged into Pat and drove her against the wall. Her hands closed around Pat's throat and began to squeeze. Pat tried to break the hold with an up thrust of her arms. No luck.

Pat's vision began to gray. She dropped one hand to where she had put her keys. They hung on a small wooden stick thrust through her belt. Completely innocuous, the stick was in reality a deadly weapon in the right hands. Pat snatched it out. Curling her fingers around until a short stub protruded, she lashed out. The kubotan stuck the woman in the nerve center at her solar plexus.

Insane rage or not, the blow dropped the woman like a shot. Pat supported herself against the wall and gasped for air. Then her training asserted itself and she pinned the helpless woman on the floor. She used her belt to secure the woman's hands behind her back. As she did so, she checked to make sure the woman was still breathing. The blow she had used was a very dangerous one that could be fatal if delivered with too much force.

The door suddenly burst into splinters as Mike came through it without slowing down. He frantically looked around the room. Seeing Pat on her feet standing over the kidnapper, his shoulders sagged with relief. He scooped her up in his arms and held her close as three other officers entered.

"Is Mikie alright?" Pat gasped.

"He's fine, honey," he husband assured her. "He was running down the street as we came up. He's outside with Sue Adams."

Pat closed hers eyes. "Thank you, God." Another thought struck her. "How about Rachel Johnson?"

"She's okay. She's at County General with a concussion, but she's awake." Mike eyed her. "How did you know to ask?"

"Pretty simple now that I'm calmer. She wouldn't have let Mikie go with anyone without word from us. At the same time she wouldn't have been suspicious of her." Pat pointed with her chin to the other woman. "Rachel probably turned her back to call one of us and then she was hit. I was worried how hard she might have been struck."

"I didn't want to hurt her but she wouldn't believe me when I told her I was there for him." Both officers turned. The woman had been cuffed and two male officer held her. The hatred in her eyes could almost be felt as her eyes burned into both Gibsons. "I just wanted you dead. Mike," her expression turned to pleading, "I was doing it for us. I was doing it so we could be together. I would have never hurt your son, unless she had made me do it."

"Get her out of here." Mike indicated with a gesture. She screamed again and struggled against her bonds as the officers literally carried her out of the apartment.

Pat shook her head. "I could almost feel sorry for her. Almost." She looked at Mike. "How did you know it was Kay Little? You must have figured it out to have arrived when you did. Its unbelievable that she had me come right to her apartment."

"I had thought I would meet you at the school," Mike responded. "We could pick up the girls and go out for dinner. So I was already on the way when the report came about a teacher being assaulted and a child missing. When I got there, the place was in an uproar. The Principal pulled me to the side right away and told me about Rachel and that they couldn't find Mikie. I called the house and your cell phone as I drove home. No answer. Then I called back and ran the messages on the answer machine. Thank God you hit record."

"When I listened to the recording at the house, I knew something was familiar. It nagged at me until I made the connection. Who would be in a perfect position to know if you called me or reported the kidnapping? A dispatcher, of course. That's when the voice rang a bell. No matter how muffled or how she tried to alter it, I recognized it from listening to her on the scanner in my office. That's why it didn't seem familiar to you."

Pat shook her. "But it should have. I even talked to her today. The dispatchers always have the best inside information and the best gossip. I even mentioned I probably would be running late today to pick up Mikie where she could hear me. She was in a perfect position to put the envelope in my car without being noticed."

"Well, she had been planning this for sometime. Sam searched the radio room and discovered that she did indeed have a secret line she had rigged up. If you had called the station or if anything had gone out on the air she really would have known."

"Somehow I didn't think she was bluffing," Pat agreed. She surveyed the doorway. "You know, you really are hell on doors. Good thing we haven't had to pay to replace any of the ones you've broken getting to me."

The two wrapped their arms around each other and left the building. They were almost bowled over by a small form who flung his arms around his parents' legs.

"I did what you said, Mommy," Mikie said proudly. "I ran away and then I saw the police cars and I knew Daddy would be in one of them so I waved my arms and yelled." He looked crestfallen. "It was okay to yell, wasn't it? I know you tell me not to, but I was," he fumbled for a word for a minute, not wanting to admit he was scared, "excited."

Together, Pat and Mike scooped him up. "It was just fine buddy," his father told him. "We're proud of you."

"Lets go get your sisters. I want to tell them how brave you were," added his mother. "Sue, would you make arrangements to get my car back to me?" Pat asked their friend. Sue smiled and nodded.

As the three of them climbed into Mike's car, Pat looked severely at her husband. "Now when we have time, you and I are going to have a long talk about you smiling at other women."

"Honey!"

"I know, Mike, I know. Big old friendly bear that you are, everyone wants you."

"Yes, but only one woman can have me." He kissed his wife deeply.

"Yuck. Do you two HAVE to do that in public?"

(The End)