DISCLAIMER: I so don't own the D.E.B.S. - They're owned by Angela Robinson and the movie people. I'm doing this for fun - I'm not making a profit, any kind of money or anything else off of this. If I've forgotten something, insert the usual disclaimer stuff here.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Roses are Red, D.E.B.S. Skirts
are Plaid

By Del Robertson


Max flipped her gun with one hand. She paced the living room floor, combat boots echoing on hardwood flooring. Pausing by the large picture window, she used the barrel of her gun to pull back the edge of the curtain. Frowning, she let loose the curtain, resumed her pacing.

"Is everyone ready?" she asked, glancing at her squad.

"Ready," answered a trio of voices.

Dominique sat at a console, watching a security monitor. "If she appears on the ze screen, we'll have her," she reported in her distinctly French accent.

Janet was crouched down behind the sofa, her head and gun barrel peeping over the top. Amy was seated on the sofa, one leg pulled beneath her. One arm was stretched along the backside of the sofa, the other lay in her lap, fingers indexing the barrel of her gun.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Definitely," Max snapped. "It's Valentine's Day. Lucy Diamond is bound to make her move."

"I mean," Amy held her wrist up. A handcuff dangled from her wrist, the other end attached to Janet's. "I mean, is this really necessary?"

"Oh." Max's eyes went wide. "If Lucy gets past us and has an opportunity to grab you, I'm hoping that Janet's dead weight will slow her down long enough for one of us to get in a shot at her."

"Hey!" Janet shouted, her voice raising to the point it was only audible by dogs. "Excuse me! When did I sign up to be live bait?!?"

"It's over. She's not going to try anything," protested Amy.

Max rolled her eyes. "She's obsessed with you, Amy. Valentine's is the most romantic day of the year. Do you really think she wouldn't try anything?"

"We've intercepted another message," Dominique broke in. As Max crossed the room, she brought it up on the computer screen. "We've been receiving these all day."

Roses are red - a D.E.B.S. skirt is plaid

Valentine's without you - Is one Hell of a drag.

"Well, Longfellow she ain't." Max smirked at her own joke. "Mark my words, sooner or later, she's going to show up. And, when she does, we'll nail her ass to the wall."

Four hours later, they were still in position. They'd had no movement on the security monitors. No sign that Lucy Diamond was even active except for the random blips Dominique had intercepted. Janet shifted uncomfortably behind the couch. Amy's head lolled to one side, eyes blinked closed as boredom set in.

Everyone jumped as the doorbell chimed. From the sofa, Janet and Amy readied their weapons. Dominique kicked off from the roll-away chair, grabbing her cigarette and gun as she rolled across the room. Max leveled her gun at the front door.

"Heads up, people! This is it!"

With a battle cry, Max flung the door open, ready to blast whoever was on the other side. She froze, gun going limp in her grasp as she stared at the deliveryman clad in brown shirt and shorts, his nametag proudly proclaiming him as Ted. Shoulders slumped in defeat. Annoyed, she signed his clipboard while Dominique took great joy in frisking the man.

"These are for you," she groused, slamming the door shut with her foot, bringing the dozen roses to Amy.

"How sweet!" Amy smiled, then caught herself. "I mean, creepy."

Satisfied with the response, Max nodded her head, smiling at Amy. She crossed the room, peering out the curtain again, ready for the next wave of the assault.

The shrill sound of an alarm broke the silence, alerting the D.E.B.S. as to a breach in security. Dominique hastily worked at the keyboard while the other girls grabbed their guns.

"It's the back door!" she shouted, grabbing her weapon. She bolted from her chair, running for the hallway.

"Janet, stay with Amy!" Max ordered, racing after her colleague.

They inched down the darkened corridor, staying as close to the wall as possible. Several feet in front of them, the door was ajar, the fading rays of sunlight streaming in as dusk began to set. They flung the door open, weapons scanning as they covered the back porch and yard.

"Nothing," Max spat. "She must have gotten past us."

"She's not in ze house, we would have zeen her in ze corridor," Dominique protested. Bending down, she retrieved a box of chocolates from the doormat. "Zis is all she left."

Max snatched the heart-shaped box from Dominique, reading the attached card. For my sweet Amy. Love, Lucy. "I'll never eat chocolate again," she grumbled, slamming the back door.

It was well past sunset when the next proximity alarm sounded. As per their usual routine, Max and Dominique were the first to respond, leaving Janet handcuffed to Amy as her own personal shield. Amy waited anxiously on the sofa beside Janet, praying that Lucy wouldn't do anything stupid.

Max and Dominique tracked the security breach to the study. The window was standing wide open, curtains blowing in the breeze. Shivering slightly, Max slammed the window shut.

"Zat iz different," declared Dominique, admiring the latest gift.

A large teddy bear, a crossbow bolt sticking out of its chest was attached to wall nearest the light switch. A simple note was pinned to his bowtie. Love hurts.

Several hours later, four women dragged their tired, aching bodies upstairs. It was close to midnight and the last contact they'd had from Lucy Diamond had been hours ago. Max, in particular, had taken extra glee in presenting the maimed teddy bear to Amy. Her mirth had turned to anguish, though, as she watched her best friend sitting on the sofa, fighting her obvious depression.

Max unlocked the handcuffs, setting Janet and Amy free. Rubbing her chaffed wrist, Janet shot Max a disgruntled look, stormed off towards her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her, jarring Ms. Petrie's picture that hung on the wall in the hallway. Taking her cue, Dominique also marched off to her own bedroom.

"Listen, Amy," Max paused outside Amy's bedroom, leaning up against the doorframe. "I think we did some really good work out there today. No doubt Lucy had intended a snatch, but then decided against it when she realized how tight our security is."

"Yeah, I guess." Amy frowned, still looking dejected.

"Hey, relax," Max hugged her reassuringly. "Her killing that teddy bear was symbolic of her thinking her love for you is dead." She shrugged. "Psychology major, remember? Anyway, if I'm totally wrong, and she does try something, remember, I'm just down the hall."

Wordlessly, Amy nodded, still clutching the deceased teddy bear in her arms, the crossbow bolt protruding from its chest. She watched Max saunter down the hall in true John Wayne fashion, enter her own bedroom, close and lock the door behind her. With a deep sigh, she entered her own room.

She closed the door behind her, blindly reached for the light switch. When she turned around, she was shocked to find a certain criminal mastermind in her bed, covers pulled up to her waist. She was sitting up, leaning back against pillows propped up at the headboard, casually eating chocolates from a heart-filled box. She stared at Amy, blatantly stuck her finger in her mouth, licking the chocolate off with a swipe of her tongue.

"Lucy!" Amy quickly locked her bedroom door, approached the bed. "What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice to a whisper.

"It's Valentine's." Lucy shrugged. "I wanted to see my sweetie."

"But - the stakeout and all the alarms and the teddy bear and - "

Lucy reached out, covering Amy's lips with her finger. Amy's words trailed off, her tongue darted out, desperately licking. She hungrily sucked the chocolate covered treat into her mouth. Lucy's eyes became heavy-lidded as she felt the tugging sensation on her digit. She struggled to find her own words.

"It was all a diversion," she placed frantic kisses on Amy's jawline. "While they were chasing a dying teddy, I was sneaking into your bed." Her mouth made its way to an earlobe, hungrily sucked. "I've been waiting in your bed for you." She dropped a kiss along Amy's collarbone. "All alone - " a trail of kisses worked their way to Amy's slender throat. " - with nothing to do." Fingers deftly unbuttoned a white shirt as a mouth kissed between bare breasts. " - except myself." She licked, then sucked a hardened nipple into her mouth.

"You know, " Amy breathed huskily between bites and licks. She desperately clutched Lucy's head to her breast. "We might consider updating your little love poem."

"Oh?" murmured Lucy, one hand freely roaming beneath Amy's skirt. "How would you revise it?"

"Oh, I don't know - " she squeaked as Lucy's cold fingers slid into her warm depths. "How about something like: Roses are red, my skirt is plaid - you'd better get busy, I need you real bad?"

Lucy stopped what she was doing, leaned back to get a better look at Amy. "That poem is really bad, sweetie. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"What can I say? I don't know anything about poetry - " she grabbed Lucy's hand, repositioned it between her legs " - but I know what I like!"

The End

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