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I Want Candy
Jane tugged at the center of her neckline for the tenth time in the last ten minutes. The price she was paying for procrastination. She'd known for about two weeks that she needed a costume and a particular costume at that. But as usual, she'd ended up running around at the last minute trying to find one that "would do." After most of the decent ones had been sold or rented out.
It wouldn't have mattered so much if she wasn't supposed to be "the other half" of a couple theme. Somehow she doubted that Travis would mind what she had on.
She'd been dating Detective Travis McMillan for about a month or so. Except that "dating" had ceased to be a very accurate term. They were seeing each other. Naked. And because of it, he had chosen a particularly irritating pet name for her.
Sighing, she wondered how much longer she was going to let this whole thing go on. At first she'd really enjoyed his company. She'd found him charming and the fact that he was a cop had been a plus. There was no awkwardness about what she did for a living and no misunderstandings about time demands, interruptions, or plans being canceled suddenly due to developments in a case.
They had a great deal in common and seemed to always have something to talk about. Unfortunately, after the first few times they'd gone out, she discovered that the job was pretty much all Travis wanted to talk about. He worked Sex Crimes and frequently shared details of his investigations. In excruciating detail.
Jane totally understood the need to decompress, and having someone to talk to about the unspeakable situations you might encounter on the job was often necessary. But in this case, she was tired of being a part time therapist.
And it was completely off-putting that much of their pillow talk revolved around the horrible things human beings can do to one another.
She frowned as she acknowledged that the actual sex itself was pretty disappointing as well. Travis was an attractive, athletically built guy. Before they'd slept together, she'd imagined that both of those things would heavily contribute to her level of pleasure and satisfaction. As it turned out, not so much.
When she'd finally caved in the wake of Maura's incessant prying, she'd struggled for a way to explain. Mainly it amounted to "he just doesn't do it for me." Still she smiled when she remembered the conversation.
"So? Don't you think it's about time you shared at least a few secrets? How's the sexy Sex Crimes guy when the lights go out?"
"Maura! Why is it so important for you to know things like that?"
"Because we're best friends and best friends get details." She paused. "I told you about the thumb sucker."
Covering her face briefly with one hand, Jane grudgingly offered, "Ya know it's he's just . Um kind of "
With a sympathetic look, Maura prompted, "A sprinter rather than a marathon runner?"
They'd both laughed, but the description rang true. And sadly, his performance hadn't improved. Again, Jane questioned why she hadn't broken it off before now. She really was the world's worst best? procrastinator.
Besides, after it was common knowledge that they'd be attending the annual BPD Halloween Benefit together, splitting up beforehand would have left them both open to numerous uncomfortable questions from their peers. She'd go with that.
But she wasn't planning on going home with Travis afterward. Hopefully the right opportunity to call it quits would present itself over the course of the evening. Right now she just had to get through the party. In this ridiculous outfit.
All she had needed was a simple nurse's uniform. If she'd planned ahead or even on schedule, she would have been better served at a standard uniform store. Instead, she'd flown from costume shop to costume shop, only to be increasingly frustrated by the lack of appropriate options.
Down to her last two hours, she'd finally given in. The last place she'd visited had labeled the thing she was wearing as "Hot Nurse." It was way too tight, way too short, and partially owing to the sewn-in push-up bra, showed way too much cleavage. She'd been horrified by the white stiletto heels that were part of the package and was grateful to find comfortable nursing shoes at a nearby store. Screw it if they didn't seem to go with the rest of the get-up.
At no time had she considered wearing the garters and white fishnet stockings.
With only a minor amount of difficulty, she'd managed to twist her hair into a semi-classical style and secure the tiny "Hot Nurse" hat. When Travis was eventually standing next to her in his blue sailor costume, she was sure people would understand they were supposed to be the couple from the famous kissing photograph taken at the end of WWII.
By herself, however, she just looked like a weird stripper.
It had been Travis's suggestion that they meet at the venue. She tried not to assume that it was because she'd have to pay her own way inside. Lately, she was finding something negative about everything he said or did, and she knew it was because she hadn't been able to make herself step up and just end it.
Well, she'd been the "bad cop" before and she could certainly do it again. She was pretty sure that whatever reaction he would have couldn't be worse than the thought of faking it with him one more time.
Attempting in vain to adjust her clothing yet again to cover just a little more of her chest, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
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