Feisty Repartee

"I, uh.." she could feel her cheeks grow crimson with the heat that surged through her. He raised a brow, and a sexy, lopsided grin crossed his lips. His pale blue eyes softened as he smiled, and he turned to survey the damage she had caused, while she took in the broadness of his shoulders and the way he nicely filled the seat of his jeans.

Taking a deep breath, she walked to him, peering around his shoulder. When he turned, his face was only inches from hers. She watched his eyes settle on her lips, before quickly taking in the rest of her, lingering at her long, lean legs.

When his focus returned to her eyes again, she swallowed hard under his intense scrutiny. Mom may have warned her about the danger of wearing those shoes, but she'd never mentioned dangerous men.

"Play it cool," she thought rapidly, "or you're gonna be in trouble with this guy".

"Listen," she said slowly, "I'm sorry about the car, I..."

He turned rapidly without seeming to move, almost cat-like, and she froze. Seeing her not-quite-apologetic face, he wasn't able hide his amusement. "My car?" he retorted. "Looks like the person you need to apologize to is yourself." He pointed to the front of the Mustang.

She looked more carefully, no longer distracted by her anger or the stilettos. The entire front end of the Mustang was useless: broken glass and twisted metal held in place by a few pieces of bent plastic; her license plate dangling from a broken bolt.

The 4X4, on the other hand, was pristine, except for some scraped paint on the bottom of the rear bumper.

After a moment, her laughter joined his, and she said, "Well, that was a hell of an expensive way to meet you. Hi, my name is Katherine."

“Katherine,” he said and rolled her name across his tongue.

Smiling broadly he offered his hand.

The hand, she heard her grandmother say in the back of her mind, is the first thing one gives to another.

Placing her own within his, the warmth and electricity of his touch shot completely through her.

“Tom Kincaid,” he stated, “how do you do?”

“Just fine, Mr. Tom Kincaid, all things considered, just fine, sir.” Came her response.

“It’s a bit warm out here and, “ glancing down at her feet, “we might better get you off this asphalt. There’s a diner up the road, why don’t we head over there and exchange the necessary information.”

“Oh, right, insurance and all that.” She agreed.

Taking a step she immediately hopped as she came in contact with something sharp on the roadway.

Laughing, he bent down, swept her off her feet, and before a protest could even formulate in her mind, she was deposited in the cab of his truck.

As Tom walked around to the driver's side of the truck, Katherine surveyed her surroundings. A few empty Gatorade bottles, a two-day old newspaper, and what was this?

Despite the possiblity of discovery, she couldn't help her curiosity when her fingers casually picked up a magazine.

There it was in her hands, the latest copy of Bold and Busty, where she was the centerfold.

Damn, of all the skin mags in the world and he'd picked hers up. Hopefully he hadn't noticed since she was going by her stage name "Candi" and well she wasn't accompanied by a midget, so she at leat had those two things going for her.

Mom had also told her that posing in those magazines would one day bite her in the ass too, but a girl's got to pay the rent somehow.

Her eyes skimmed the magazine's unfamiliar title and motto U.S. Cavalry: World's Finest Equipment. Many Missions. One Source. Comforted slightly by the images of men and women in military or law enforcment uniforms she tried to slide the catalog back into the same general portion of the disarray as she found it.

Tom slid behind the wheel, "Sorry about the mess, don't often get pretty ladies as passengers." He flashed another smile and nodded toward her seatbelt while reaching for his own, "You probably ought to fasten that."

Katherine reached for the belt and, trying for casual, queried, "So, Mr. Tom Kincaid, what do you do for a living?"

"Let's talk about you, Katherine." He said with a broad smile. ""Do you like it hot?" he asked.

"Hot?" she asked, swallowing hard.

"Your food...that diner makes a mean chili." He glanced at her as he put the truck into drive. Oh yeah, she thought, I like it hot.

Tom Kincaid pulled into the parking lot of the small diner a few minutes later. The place looked like it had been built in the early 50's and never touched again. But Katherine knew enough from her travels that such places usually served the best food. Her mom had always told her to eat where the cops ate. Sure enough, there was a sheriff's car next to the only available parking place.

Katherine watched Kincaid's eyes scan the lot before settling on the cruiser. His brows furrowed slightly, and his pale eyes were no longer warm and friendly.

"I have no shoes," she said, watching him intently. He smiled, and his left hand searched the floor of the cab, producing her stilletos, a little worse for the wear, but still incredibly sexy. How had he retrieved them, and so quickly, without her seeing? He watched her slip into her heels, silently admiring the curves of her legs.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low and throaty. She could only nod. Who is this man, she wondered, and why did she feel as if he was supposed to be here?

Settling into a booth, she noticed an elderly couple smiling and engrossed with one another across the room. The deputy was seated at the counter, coffee cup in hand, chatting with the waitress.

While she noted the scent of food cooking in the kitchen, the air was not thick with grease. The tabletops, counter, and floor where shiny and clean.

The grumbling in her tummy reminded her she had not eaten since the night before.

“Hungry?” twinkling blue eyes inquired.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, she responded coyly: “More than you know.”

In no time the waitress Daisy had iced teas sitting in front of them, as well as generous portions of the day’s “Special,” otherwise known as liver and onions with a helping of mashed potatoes and a slice of cherry pie on the side.

Conversation between them had all but ceased as at least one of the hungers which plagued them was satisfied.

After their meal was complete, the task of exchanging information was at hand. He reached into his back pocket and produced a small slip of paper on which he wrote his telephone number.

His number! He slid it across the table and as she went to reach for it, their fingers touched ever so slightly as shivers went coursing to the farthest reaches of her body. Mom always said that when you meet "The One" you will feel it in the hairs on your arms.

Call me. I own a body shop and I'm fairly certain I can repair some of the damage to your vehicle. Your insurance policy will pick up the tab.

Suddenly feeling as though she was about to be sick, Katherine managed to stutter "insurance, I forgot to pay my insurance premium this month ! arghh."

Mr. Tom Kincaid's broad smile graced his face again. "That's ok." We'll simply come to an agreement on how you can pay me back." Then he leaned in a little closer, "how about we start with dinner? I make a really mean gravy and spaghetti."

Just as Katherine was about to answer yes she felt a familiar churning in her nether regions. "Damn" she though to her self "this is a hulluva time for my irritable bowels to kick up". "Excuse me Mr. Kincaid, I have to, um, powder my nose" she said.

She she made her way to the ladies room beads of sweat started popping out on her forehead and she began to doubt she was going to make it, so she picked up the pace. By the time she hit the hallway she was at a dead sprint with her butt-cheeks pinched as tight as they'd go. Just in the knick of time she flung the stall door open, spun around and dropped trough. “This is going to be ugly” she though “maybe I’ll be able to sneak it out”.

Too late, with her irritable bowels further irritated by the liver and onions she let loose a thunderous fart followed by a deluge that would gag a maggot. “Well at least I’m by alone” she reassured her self. Always the lady she washed her hands and made her exit, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the paint was now peeling from the walls.

As she made her way back to the dinning area she noticed all eyes were on her, what she didn’t realize is that the air conditioning ducts had piped her performance into the main area of the dinner for all to endure.

Suddenly a man stood up from the booth she was passing, and turned around to face her as she ran into him. She started to mumble some kind of awkward apology and side-step him, but he grabbed her shoulders and held her in place. He bent down a little so she'd be sure to see that he meant business when he said, slowly,

"Hello, Katherine." Then he slowly gave a smirk that made her heart stop.

"My name is Phin. And I'm your worst nightmare." Then he let go of her shoulders, straightened up and flung his head back and began a roaring laugh that boiled up out of his belly, echoing off the walls that no longer contained a diner. Surrounded by a cavernous blackness, the floor began rolling, the evil laugh filling her ears. Just before she lost consciousness, she recalled her mother saying, "If worse comes to worst, just faint!"

Oh. My. Gawd.

Katherine blushed, and was about to respond when she noticed that Kincaid had focused his eyes on the deputy at the counter, before looking at the older couple across the room. The old man, dressed in an expensive suit, had excused himself from the table, and was making his way to the restrooms.

"Would you excuse me for a few minutes? Actually, how about you meet me in my truck? Lunch is on me." Kincaid smiled, and left the table, and his keys. Katherine watched him, the way he held his shoulders and moved made her ache. How long has it been, she asked herself, afraid of the answer.

She scooted across the vinyl seat and stood, tugging her skirt down. Grabbing her bag, she walked outside and into the oppressive heat. It looked like rain to the west, and the wind had picked up, sending the dirt in the gravel lot into the air. Blinking hard, she unlocked the driver's door, and climbed into the cab of the truck. She started the truck, and turned the air conditioning on high.

Kincaid was walking across the lot quickly, at the same moment the sheriff's deputy exited the front door of the diner. Kincaid had not left the diner by the same door. Katherine knew something was very wrong. Kincaid was tightly grasping his left arm with his right hand, and his eyes could not hide the pain his face all but erased. When she saw him glance back at the deputy, who appeared interested in the man walking quickly to the truck, something inside her told her she needed to act.

Sorry to break the storylin here....but DAMMIT, PHIN!

With eyes fixed on Kincaid and just as a thought was formulating in her head, the driver's door abruptly opened. With a start she found herself staring at the face of Phin.

"Move over, Missy," he commanded as he hefted his beer gut and short legs in beside her.

Fear of being crushed by his weight or actually touching him had her scurrying over the seat.

As she reached the passenger side, Kincaid had opened that door and was falling into the cab of the truck.

"Dammit, Phin, punch it and let's roll!" he exclaimed.

Phin wedged himself back under the steering wheel and slammed the driver's door shut, swearing viciously and re-opening the door to free the pinch of arm fat that had been caught.

Tom, still cradling his left arm, pulled the passenger door shut as Phin hit the gas and sent the tires spinning, kicking up gravel as he tore out of the parking lot.

"What's going on here?" Katherine edged closer to Tom to try avoid the ooze of Phin's fat and the half-assed grabbing at her knee he was undertaking in the guise of feeling for a stick shift in the automatic truck. Her gaze landed on the blood starting to seep between Tom's fingers. "Are you alright?"

Her mother always said to be discriminating when getting into vehicles with strangers, but Kincaid's inviting smile and broad shoulders had made her forget.

Katherine began to wonder what she had gotten herself into. Who was this Phin character, how did he and Kincaid know one another? What had happened in the diner? Where were they going?

These questions raced through her mind as she realized they had just crossed the county line. She had been too enveloped in her own questions that she had lost her voice. Finally, "why the hell are we heading into Elk County?" burst from her lips.

Both men stared at her for a moment as they exited the highway and began to travel along a dark dirt road.

About forty-five minutes later they rounded a country corner and came to an abrupt stop in front of a dilapidated old farm house.

Katherine would have thought it abandoned, but for a dim light barely shining through the windows which were thickly covered with dirt.

Smiling lasciviously down at Katherine, Kincade asked: “Did you remember the midgets, phin?”

Smacking his lips, phin responded: “Oh, yeah. Midgets with big breasticles.”

Her stomach churning once again, Katherine slowly passed a little gas as she concentrated on not losing her liver and onions from both ends.

The men exited the truck with phin pulling on Katherine’s arm.

She was preparing to strike him when the front door opened and out boomed a rather gargantuan woman. Her heavy cleavage all but bounced off her knees. As quickly as her voluminous body could catapult her, she ran to phin’s open arms. A good head taller than him, she smothered him to her bosom.

Thankfully for Katherine, the behemoth distraction allowed her to slip from his grasp before she was lost in the folds.

Katherine had managed to break free of Phin's grip, but when she spun around she was nose to chest with Tom.

"You weren't planning on leaving so soon were you darlin'" Tom asked "plus, Lavita and Phin may need a hand stitching me up, that old geezer in the dinner worked a number on my arm."

"Tom's always whining, 'tain't nothing but a scratch" Phin grumbled "now come get something decent to eat 'fore it gets cold."

Lavita headed into the kitchen to get Phin's mid-evening snack. He'd met her years back when she was a cute little Mexican honey willing to do just about anything, or anyone, to get across the border.

As she headed disappeared around the corner Phin noticed the look of shock still in Katherine's eyes and tried to explain to her "She won't always that big you know, fact she used to be hot, but you know how those Latino women are, skinny and hot to trot 'til 'bout age 25, then whoa nelly, must be something in the water. She can cook her ass off though, and man she's still a hell-cat in the sack."

That was all Katherine could stomach, chewing down a mouthful of liver and onions for a second time she once again excused herself to the ladies room.

Tom started chuckling, "Ladies room, my aching ass, she farts like a truck driver. Phin you just make damned sure you keep the frijoles away from her or we'll all have hell to pay."

Then it clicked, Phin thought he knew her from somewhere and all the sudden it hit him like a ton of bricks. " Lavita, LAVITA!!" he started screaming, "bring me that Candi does the Land video we bought the other night. Tom that girl's go talent, real talent, you can't be lettin' her get away, least not 'til she teaches Lavita that trick she does with her tongue. Man you gotta see this."

After exiting the restroom for the second time of the evening, Katherine demanded answers.

Phin! Is that your name? What the hell is happening? Why did you bring me here? Kincaid! What happened at the diner?

Oh.my.good.G-d! What are you watching???

Katherine lunged at Phin with a stilleto in hand.

Phin, leaning forward on the old sofa he had deposited his massive bulk upon, his head tilted to the right as he argued with himself whether or not those were implants Candi was sporting, was oblivious to the danger behind him. Katherine raised her arm, intent on impaling the man with her shoe, when she slipped on something cold and slimy on the dirty tile floor, and fell to her knees.

"What the?" Her fingers ran across the thick brown substance, and she hesitantly sniffed at it. Chocolate pudding?

The feel and smell of the pudding brought the memories flooding back. Things, her life, just hadn't been the same since that fateful night in college. After one too many drinks, or so they all claimed the next day, her roommates Chrissy, Oddy and Theresa had all gone back to the apartment and filled a kiddie pool with chocolate pudding and started wrestling.

It started out innocent enough, then things took a turn and clothes started flying. It had been the first time Katherine had ever felt the tender embrace of another woman's kiss. The first time Katherine had truly been at ease with a lover.

They'd all chalked it up to a drunken mishap and swore they'd never speak of it again. Little did they know she had the pictures. Sure they were dog eared from the cold lonely nights she'd spent alone, but she had them none the less.

The wet glop on his cheek startled Phin out of his daydream and he instinctively wiped the wetness, smearing the pudding that had flicked off Katherine's fingers up and into his ear.

"What the..." Phin trailed off and smirked, looking at Katherine struggling to wipe the pudding off her knees. He waggled his tongue, "Hey baby, I can help you with that."

Fed up and well past her limit for courtesy, Katherine flipped him the bird and glared at Tom, "Is it too much, Mr. Stand-there-uselessly, to find me a towel?"

Tom simply pointed at the television screen where a naked woman who resembled Katherine cavorted with two other girls and an oversized candy cane.

Katherine groaned and marched to stand in front of the screen, wondering if this was going to plague her for the rest of her life.

During the commotion nobody saw the notorious papranazi Agent Bedhead snapping pictures the the open window.

From her angle it looked as if Katherine had just finished up a roll in the kiddie pool with Phin and was preparing to finish off the night with a private lap dance. These candid shots were just the thing she needed, she'd be the most sought after journalist and surely this would knock a naked knocked up Brittany and Branjelina's baby off the front page of every "news" rag across the country.

But alas her luck was fleeting, as she prepared to sneak off into the night the rotted boards on the deck gave way and she fell through. When she hit the ground she took inventory, her camera was still in hand, but her patent leather jeans and top were dangling out of reach from one of the busted boards. "Great, just friggin' great" she spit "I sure picked a helluva a time to go commando".

"LOOK!" she began.

"I did what I had to do to make my through college and law school. Am I proud? No."

A flicker of contriteness flashed across the men's faces.

Katherine continued, "I'm sorry I ran into the back of your truck. I just passed the bar and have started a job with USDOJ (United States Department of Justice). I now prosecute underage porn traffickers. I don't know what your deals are and, quite frankly, I could not care less. Be advised, I have sworn to uphold the law and there's something unlawful going on around here."

Kincaid's mouth hung agape.

Phin unceremoniously farted.

Oh, corpulent one hit the back door running as fast as her stumps could carry her.

It was then that Phin noticed the alligator attempting to crawl up the inside of his pants leg. He had picked a fine day to leave the house without the usual bag of squirming shih tzus.

Then Phin farted some more. But this time, ceremoniously.

THE END.