DISCLAIMER: Karen Sisco and its all characters are property of Jersey Television. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Dreams Do Come True
Why do I torture myself like this, night after night? I'll never find anyone to compare to her, so why do I even try? Motioning the bartender over, I pull out my cash to settle my tab. Yet another night I'll go home alone.
In my peripheral vision, I catch sight of a pair of legs encased in tight black pants moving to sit on the stool next to me. Hm, perhaps I've been too hasty in my decision to call it a night. I take my sweet time following the sexy legs all the way up the fit body to meet the face of the person I plan to take home only to find .
"Karen?" My surprise is apparent as my voice squeaks out the question.
"Hey, Marley. Sorry to bother you, but I really need your help," a very nervous Karen replies.
I imagine watching me ogle her was a bit disconcerting so I try my best to offer a friendly smile. This must really be an important case if she's willing to come into a well-known lesbian bar to find me. I open my mouth to question the marshal when my view of her is cut off by a rather large butch who steps between us.
"Well, aren't you a cute little thing? How about joining me over in my corner booth?" A deep voice asks.
Crap. It's Big Bertha; she never takes no for an answer.
"Sorry, but I'm not interested. If you'll excuse me, I have business with my friend," Karen answers in a sharp tone.
Bertha looks over her shoulder at me and immediately begins to chuckle.
"Oh honey, trust me, you don't want to waste your time on this wanna be butch when you can have the real thing," Bertha says as she turns her attention back to Karen.
Please Karen, please don't wave a red cape at the bull.
"For your information, missy, my girlfriend has more testosterone in her little finger than you have in your very large body," Karen replies in a taunting tone.
Bertha immediately pivots and faces me as the proverbial steam comes from her ears in short bursts.
Shit, she insulted her manhood and called her missy. I'm a dead woman.
Twenty minutes later, I'm sitting in Karen's car with an ice pack on my eye while Karen continues to offer the sincerest of apologies.
"Marley, I'm so sorry. It's just that I've had one of the worst days of my life, and that big bully made me so mad."
"Butch, Karen, butch," I mutter with both eyes closed.
She doesn't offer any more words of apology or any other words period for that matter.
Opening my good eye, I glance over at the quiet marshal to find that she's crying. Great, Marley, now look what you've gone and done.
I slide the plastic bag off my blackened eye and turn toward my infatuation.
"Hey, don't cry. I'm not really mad. It's high time someone called Big Bertha on her behavior, and I was more than happy to provide the face that caused her to break her hand," I offer in a teasing voice.
Karen looks at me and smiles right before she bursts out in tears. Confused, I pull her into my arms to comfort her. What the hell should I say now? Deciding to keep my mouth shut, I gently rub my hand up and down her back in a soothing motion.
Finally, she pulls herself together and gently pushes away from me. Well, at least she didn't shove me across the seat when she realized who was holding her.
"Marley, it's Dad. One of his poker buddies called me this morning asking why Daddy skipped out on the game last night. He never misses a game so I immediately jumped in my car and drove straight to his house. The front door was ajar, and the place had been ransacked. There was no sign of him anywhere," an upset Karen explains.
Reaching out to take her hand, I ask, "What do you need me to do?"
"Um, well, it's a little underhanded, but it's the only thing I can think of," Karen cryptically supplies.
"Okay ..do you think you could fill in a few details for me?" I ask and patiently wait for her explanation.
"Maybe I should start at the beginning," Karen offers.
Beginnings are good. Too bad it's not the beginning of a more than friendly relationship between us, but unfortunately it's not, so I file those thoughts away for later and simply nod my head for her to continue.
"After I realized Daddy was taken against his will, I headed straight for work; I knew Amos would be able to help me figure out what was going on. As I was started around the corner to the elevator, I picked up on a conversation between Amos and Phil. Phil was telling Amos that the matter had been taken care of and that, I quote, 'the old guy fought tooth and nail so they had to tranquilize him.' I think he was talking about Dad, Marley."
"What? You think the US Marshal's office is responsible for your dad's kidnapping?" I ask in disbelief.
"Yes, I do. When I rounded the corner Amos and Phil suddenly became very nervous and quickly changed the topic of their conversation," Karen replies as she places the bag of ice back on my eye.
I reach up to hold it in place, but she slaps my hand away. Leaning my head back against the seat, I allow her to play nurse.
"So what do you need me to do?" I ask as I try not to show my pleasure at her attentiveness.
"Phil is the key. If I can get him alone, I know I can make him talk. Problem is, Phil is so paranoid that I'll never be able to corner him, and that's where you come in. Phil is constantly asking about you. I thought you could come to the office in the morning and let him hit on you as usual. Maybe you could ask him back to your place for dinner or something, and then you and I could question him," Karen outlines her sketchy plan.
How am I going to attract this guy with a black eye? Hell, how am I going to attract a guy period?
"What about this shiner I'm going to have in the morning? I don't think Phil is going to be interested in going out with a one-eyed raccoon."
"Don't bet on it. Besides, you always look great. A little black eye isn't going to change anything," Karen says with a smile.
She thinks I look great? All the time? Maybe when this is all over, I can try to ask her out again.
We work on a few more details, and I promise to be at her office first thing in the morning. Karen offers to drive me home, but I insist that I'll be just fine. I smile the entire way home when I realize that Karen is tailing me to be sure I arrive in one piece.
The next morning, I apply a little more makeup than usual to try to cover Big Bertha's fist impression. I can't help but smile when I remember how Karen shoved the big butch from behind when she was off balance from hitting me. I'm fairly certain Bertha's broken wrist was a direct result of the fall, but just in case, I think maybe I better stay away from the bar for at least a couple of months.
Arriving at Karen's floor, I step out of the elevator and make the attempt to sashay across the floor to her desk. I spot Phil at the opposite door so I put a little more effort into my exaggerated sway.
Bingo! He spies me the minute I step up to Karen's desk and makes his approach toward the two of us.
"Hey, Marley. How've you been?" The marshal asks with a huge grin.
"Oh, hi Phil. Things have been pretty busy lately," I reply as I mentally chastise myself for my lack of flirting skills.
"Well, that's not so good. I was hoping maybe you would be free one night this week. I'd like to take you to dinner," Phil says while stepping into my personal space.
It takes everything I have not to step back, but somehow I am able to keep my focus.
"How about tonight? There's a new dish I've been meaning to try out. We could have a nice, quiet dinner at my place," I offer with a smile.
"I'd love that. What time would you like me?" The prick asks.
"That'll be great. Let me get something to write down your address," Phil replies as he walks over toward his desk to retrieve a post-it note.
At six, Karen arrives with sandwiches from the local deli. Just because Phil's not going to get a good meal, doesn't mean we have to suffer. We sit down at the table to consume our meal and to finalize our plan.
Phil's knock comes at seven on the dot, and Karen quietly moves into my bedroom to wait. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.
"Wow, you look great," Phil says as he hands me a bouquet of flowers.
"Thank you. Why don't you have a seat on the couch while I put these in some water?" I reply as I walk from the room.
Stepping into the kitchen, I toss the flowers into the trash while I prepare myself for the next part of the plan. I am going to have to give the performance of my life to get through Act II.
I take off my jacket to reveal a skimpy top which doesn't reach my waist, and the fact that I have on tight hip huggers has quite a bit of my skin being revealed. Hopefully, my appearance will add to his distraction.
Grabbing a kitchen chair, I make my way back into the den for phase two of our plan.
Phil looks up when I return and appears confused when I place the chair in the middle of the den floor. Smiling, I reach for the blindfold on the coffee table, and sweat immediately breaks out on his face when I pick up a pair of handcuffs.
"I thought that maybe we could play a little game before we eat," I say in a sultry voice.
"Um, okay," is the nervous answer.
Karen was right; this guy is all talk and no action.
"Why don't you come over here and have a seat?" I ask as I slide the blindfold back and forth across the backs of my hands.
Phil slowly rises and walks toward me, his eyes focused on my plunging neckline. I motion for him to turn around, and amazingly, he complies and even sits without being coached. I take advantage of his good nature and quickly put on the blindfold. Just as he leans back in the chair, I attach the handcuffs to his wrists as well as to the pair already fastened to the back of the chair. Oh, that was just too easy.
Clearing my throat, Karen hears my signal and makes her way into the den.
"My, my Phil. You're quite the captive audience," Karen says to her fellow marshal.
Phil immediately sits up and tries to free himself to no avail.
"What the hell is going on here?" He asks in a high voice.
Karen steps forward and slowly removes his blindfold. Leaning over, she looks our hostage in the eye and says, "You've got my Dad, Phil. I want you to tell me where he is."
Looking stunned at the turn of events, Phil asks, "How did you know?"
Relating the accidental eavesdropping incident, Karen also explains her findings at her dad's house. Something tells me she isn't acting when she relates how hurt she is that her friends would do such a thing to her dad.
"Karen, it was necessary, but I can't tell you anymore except that your dad is perfectly okay and no harm will come to him," Phil explains.
"I want to see him," Karen insists.
"Sorry, Karen, but that's just not possible."
"Phil, I'll make a deal with you. I'll take every shitty case you're assigned for the entire month if you'll tell me where I can find my father," Karen offers.
"Nope. No can do," Phil counters.
"C'mon, Phil. Isn't there something Karen can do for you in exchange for the information?" I ask as I try to intervene in the negotiations.
The smirk that appears on Phil's face tells me there is indeed something he'd like, and the look of determination from Karen tells me that she's willing to do whatever it is.
"Okay, Karen. You want to know where your dad is? I'll make a deal. I can't tell you how many times I've fantasized about you and Marley getting it on," the pervert says.
"What?" The stereo response is echoed throughout the room.
"Hey, I'll settle for you two making out," the sick man replies.
Karen and I exchange glances, and without hesitation, she steps toward me. Oh, shit. She's going to do it. This is so not how I imagined this moment happening.
Leaning forward, she softly kisses my lips, but then quickly releases them before I've had the opportunity to revel in the touch. Damn, so close but yet so far.
"Uh-uh, Karen. I want an honest to God, tongue sucking lip lock or I'm not telling you a thing," Phil says with a shake of his head.
Before I can react, I'm being attacked by a straight woman who definitely knows how to kiss. Her tongue is in my mouth before I can say 'whoa', and that would be whoa in a good way, not whoa as in stop.
I hope Phil can keep up with the tongue play because I'm barely able to keep score. I'm pretty sure that Karen is winning; although, I do manage to shoot for a tie by grabbing her ass and pulling her near. She groans in my mouth and slides her hands around my neck effectively putting a halt to all thought processes.
Karen finally releases my lips when it becomes apparent that oxygen is indeed a necessary part of living. We're both panting heavily, and Phil seems to be panting right along with us.
We turn toward the immobile man to see that he has a new problem to deal with and can I just say, "Ewwwww."
Slowly breathing in and out, Karen is finally able to whisper, "Phil?"
The man with the raised flag merely mutters, "He's in an apartment building on Third and Congress, Room 14."
Karen grabs my hand, and we race from my condo leaving a drooling Phil behind.
With guns drawn, we stand outside the apartment door, and Karen holds up three fingers as she slowly begins to lower the digits one by one. When the last finger joins the others, we both turn and kick the door in. Wow, it's amazing what a little adrenaline and a lot of horniness will do for you.
We enter the room at the same time and find four men sitting around the table with poker chips and cards. Marshall Sisco is sitting at the head of the table with a mound of chips in front of him.
"Hey, Karen. What are you doing here?" The marshal asks as if it's every day two women bust down a door to come to his aid.
"I've come to rescue you," Karen replies in a no-nonsense tone.
The men take a break from their game, and Marshall Sisco ushers Karen into the nearby bedroom leaving me alone with the other three men. None of us utter a word as an uncomfortable silence permeates the room.
A couple of minutes later, Karen storms from the room and grabs my hand on the way to the door. I willingly follow the gorgeous woman as we step on the broken door as we exit the room.
Come to find out, the national office had contacted Amos to let him know Marshall Sisco was in danger from a drug lord's assassin. The US Marshals in charge of the case wanted him to be the decoy so that they could catch the man, but Amos wasn't in favor of the plan.
When he was not able to talk the marshal into taking a vacation, Amos had his men kidnap him to keep him safe. Now that Marshall Sisco was winning big at poker, he agreed to stay in the safe house. Although, I'm not certain it's too safe now that the room is without a door.
Needless to say, Karen is very pissed off, so much in fact, that she drives us directly to the gay bar where my role in this fiasco first began. She jumps from the car almost before it stops and heads for the front door. I hesitate a second or two before joining her but decide Big Bertha is probably still nursing her wounds.
I expect to find the beautiful marshal at the bar, but instead, I spot her on the dance floor. She's the only person swaying to the sultry tune. I guess she must take out her frustration by dancing, but I have a feeling I'm going to be the one frustrated after watching her work out her problem. Damn, the woman can move.
Mesmerized, I walk toward her and am reassured when she smiles and holds out her hand. I grasp the offered appendage and pull her into my body where she latches on tightly. We move in perfect synchronization to the tune and to each other.
The song finally comes to an end, and Karen looks up into my eyes. The pent-up anger is no longer present.
"Kiss me, Marley," she softly says.
"Karen?" I ask to be sure.
"I mean it, kiss me," she reaffirms.
I don't have to be asked twice, so I lean down and gently kiss her lips until we are once again playing war of the tongues; however, this is one battle I won't mind losing.
Not wanting our first time to be on a dance floor, I slow the passion down as much as I am able until we finally break apart.
"Take me home, Marley," are the next words spoken by my sexy dance partner.
"But what about Phil?" I ask to bring us both back to reality.
"I told Daddy about Phil. Let Amos worry about him. Right now, I want you to take me home," Karen says as she hugs me tightly.
I return the hug, and we each smile as we release the other. This time I offer my hand, and Karen doesn't hesitate to put hers in mine as I lead her toward the door and the beginning of a relationship I've dreamed of from the first moment I laid eyes on her.
Return to Karen Sisco Fiction
Return to Main Page