Ten fucking weeks! That’s exactly how long it’s been since I’ve seen Detective Whitlock. This was too easy, and Dad hasn’t said anything about Jasper being pulled off the case so I know that isn’t why he hasn’t been around… What if he thinks I’m guilty and that’s why he’s been avoiding me?
I stood, leaning against the side of my emerald green Porsche contemplating the mysterious disappearance of Jasper Whitlock, playing innocently with the tie that held my make shift shirt closed, enjoying the reactions of the idiotic teenage boys around me. I let my mind wander to thoughts of anything other than the crime I seemingly pulled off, or the hot detective in charge of the investigation of it. I jumped, causing my feet to slide slightly in Jasper’s boots, as I felt rough fingertips gliding across the small of my back, just above the waist of my black mini skirt. I looked over my shoulder, and gazed into the hazel green eyes that I had missed over the last weeks.
“Jasper!” I exclaimed as I threw my arms around his neck with enough force to cause him to take a step backwards.
I could feel his chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, hello to you to Miss Bella.” He said, spinning me around before putting me back on solid ground.
I notice a small smirk growing on his face as he looked me over, his eyes resting on the boots I have yet to return. “So that’s where my boots disappeared to. I tossed my apartment looking for them before I left.”
“I hope you don’t mind, I found them under my bed after you left and they just look so good on me.” I said, focusing my eyesight on the scuffs of his worn boots.
I continue to stare at the ground, trying to dig a hole through the tar parking lot, until his dry fingers connect with my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his. “Darlin’ don’t worry about it; they were in your room. I’m just glad I didn’t lose them at the club or somewhere along the way.”
I took a step back, putting space between the two of us, staring at him coolly. I was not about to let him charm me into forgetting about the fact he disappeared for ten weeks. “Where have you been?” I asked, with more attitude than I intended.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving. Honestly, I didn’t think it was any of your business, and I still don’t think you need to know.” He snapped back at me.
My eyes focused back on the ground and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, willing the tears that were building behind my eyes, not to fall. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I shouldn’t have asked, and you’re right, it’s none of my business. I should go. Good day, Detective Whitlock.”
I got into my car, slamming the door and throwing it into gear, driving off in the general direction of my house. As I drove to Angela’s, I thought about my recent confrontation with the sexy and dangerous Mr. Whitlock. I sat in Angela’s driveway for an unknown amount of time, lost in my thoughts until Mr. Weber tapped on the window smiling. After apologizing for loitering in his driveway, I made my way home, in a more confident mood than when I arrived.
I parked my car, stopping to pet the neighborhood’s stray cat before making my way inside and starting on my homework. I was half way through the assigned reading for my senior literature class when there was a timid knock on my door. I slowly walked over to the door, adding more scuffs to the already distressed boots still on my feet. I gasped when I pulled back the curtain in the side window and saw the one person I never expected to see again in a million years, Jasper.
I opened the door, forcing myself to look uninterested in his sudden appearance. “Hello Detective Whitlock, is there something I can help you with?” I asked, leaning against the door frame.
His head snapped up, like he didn’t realize that I had opened the door. “Miss Bella… I wanted to apologize for my sharp words earlier this afternoon. They were uncalled for, and I am truly sorry if I hurt your feelings or offended you. I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.” He said pausing, almost like he was trying to gauge my mood or reaction.
When I didn’t close the door in his face, his face lit up with that trademark smirk as he said, “I would like to take you out tonight. I was thinking that since the local theater is doing an interactive performance of The Rocky Horror Picture show, and Halloween is in a couple of days that it would be something fun for us to do together.”
I obviously reacted because he gave me directions to the theater and a polite kiss on the cheek before getting into his fuckhawt car and driving off. I walked off toward my room in a daze, pulling up Google to figure out what was actually going to happen on our “date” tonight. After finding a description of one the characters and printing out an audience participation script, I went to my mother’s closet to pull out everything I would need. I found a suitable black satin mini dress with cap sleeves, and borrowed an apron from one of the housekeepers we employed.
When I was dressed and make up was applied, I sectioned my mahogany hair while the curling iron heated up. I turned up my go-to playlist as Aerosmith’s Dude (Looks Like a Lady) came on, belting along with Steven Tyler. After teasing, curling, and adding half a can of hairspray to my hair, I grabbed my iPod and the black lace up boots I borrowed from Alice ages ago, before heading to my car and toward the theater. Jasper was waiting for me outside dressed in a white button down, open in the front to reveal the tattoo I longed to lick, a black waistcoat, complete with tails, and a pair of black dress pants. His honey blond hair was hidden by a bald wig with greasy blond hair attached in a sparse fashion. After my car was parked, we joined the throng of people heading into the theater and found seats. I thanked Jasper quietly when he handed me a bag with all the props I would need, and I reached into my purse for the script I had printed earlier.
0o0o0
The first few musical numbers passed with Jasper showing me what to throw and what to say. He had the patience of a saint. I had caught on enough that I attempted to participate during the one scene I had seen before, the Time Warp. As the beginning of the song came on, the actors come out on to the stage mimicking the video while the audience stood. I was surprised when
Jasper got completely involved with the scene, including singing along.
It’s astounding, time is fleeting. Madness, takes its toll, but listen closely...
I smiled, singing the next line,
Not for very much longer
I barely registered the rest of the audience as Jasper and I continued singing back and forth to each other. He continued to smile and sing while doing the Time Warp, whereas I had a hard time keeping myself from laughing.
I finally got it together enough to sing,
It’s so dreamy. Oh, fantasy free me! So you can’t see me, no not at all. In another dimension, with voyeuristic intentions. Where secluded, I see all.
We watched as the song came to an end and Janet tried to convince Brad to leave, rather unsuccessfully, and then Jasper froze mid comment and stared at the stage. When I followed his line of sight, I swear I felt my jaw hit the floor. Standing there on the stage in the ridiculous wig, fishnets and corset was Peter. Our need to laugh overthrew our shock when Peter began to sing.
How do you do, I see you’ve met my faithful handyman. He’s just a little brought down, because when you knocked, he thought you were the Candy Man. Don’t get strung out by the way I look, don’t judge a book by its cover. I’m not much of a man by day, but by night I’m one hell of a lover. I’m just a sweet Transvestite from Transylvania. Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound. You look like you’re both pretty groovy. Or if you want something visual, that’s not too abysmal, we could take in an old Steve Reeves’ movie.
Peter sang out with confidence as the scene played out behind him.
The rest of the show went without a hitch and we decided to get ice cream at The Creole Creamery. We walked to his car so he could lock it up before joining me for the short drive to the ice cream parlor. Leaning against his car was a tall, blonde with a model’s body. When she saw us approach, she uncrossed her legs and adjusted the pale purple suit skirt she was wearing before practically tackling Jasper. I stood on the outside of this obvious reunion, trying not to become obnoxious and bitchy. It wasn’t working. I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest and turned on my heel, deciding that he could go get his own fucking ice cream with the blonde he obviously knew very well. I was halfway to my car when there was a swift tug at my wrist, causing me to pivot on one pointy stiletto.
“What do you want Jasper? To throw my poor judgment back in my face? If that is the case, then fuck you, I’m done. Good night Mr. Whitlock.” I stormed off closing the rest of the gap between me and my car, stomping my feet like a two year old who didn’t get their way.
When I got home, Charlie gave me the look, you know the one parents give that says ‘where have you been and why are you slamming my door?’ I walked right past him, and even contemplated flipping him off when he followed me up the stairs and to my bedroom door. Instead, I chose to slam the door in his face and blast whatever loud rock song came on my iPod.
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