Men in Blue Pt. 02

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Chapter 6

Ronnie found out just how hard it was to get shaved, showered, and dressed for his job while caring for a five year old that needed to be ready for St. Joseph's Elementary School and a three year old that needed to be ready for Happyland Day Care.

Finally, he did the logical thing, got RJ ready, fixed their breakfasts, fixed RJ's lunch, then got Sandra dressed and got her to the day care, just as soon as the bus picked up RJ for school.

Then he came back home, called Jacy Kay at Young Insurance to let the receptionist and let her know he would be late.

"Um, you already are and Mrs. Elizabeth is not happy," Jacy said in her squeakily little girl voice. "Remember? Today is the Health Meeting?"

Ronnie vowed to kill Georgie. Apparently, she had known that today was the one day he really needed to be in the office on time.

In Sheriff Bob Chastaine's office, Ritchie Himmer wasn't having a very good day either.

"Fuck, really?" Ritchie Himmer spat when Sheriff Bob Chastaine informed him he was being partnered with Leeanne.

"Ritchie, listen, I'm sorry," Bob hissed under his breath. "She's already been with everyone else."

"Anyway," Bob continued in a normal voice. "You're one of the best; who knows? You might actually teach her something."

"Fucking affirmative Action bull shit," Ritchie groused as Leeanne entered the office.

"Ready, Partner?" Leeanne Sexton cheerfully asked, putting her cap on over her bright red hair.

"Gene, God damn, you know in India, when a leper comes down the street, they're told they have to loudly announce 'unclean!' as they walk so people know to get out of their way," Bob said as Gene Paice entered the office.

"Really? They still make them do that shit?" Gene asked, puzzled.

"They ought to make you do that shit so I'll know to run so I don't have to see that face," Bob said and the two shook hands.

"Aw, your ass!" Gene laughed.

"Sir?" Georgie asked, lightly rapping on the door.

"Oh, good, good, Georgie, get in here and close that door," Bob smiled.

"Her?" Gene asked, seeing an attractive young woman, certainly too small, too vulnerable for what they had in mind.

"Hey Georgie, take the hoodie off, huh?" Bob asked, smiling widely.

"Sir Yes sir," Georgie did and pulled the hoodie off, revealing the white sports bra she wore underneath.

"Son of a..." Gene gawked at the muscled woman.

"And here's her firearms rating, her test scores . Believe me, we really lucked out when we got this rookie in here," Bob said as Georgie flexed a few poses.

"Have you explained to her..." Gene asked, still in open mouthed admiration.

Georgie pulled the hooded sweatshirt back on and took a seat with Bob motioned to her to do so.

She listened to Captain Gene Paice as the man explained what they needed. Basically, she would go undercover, pretend to be a hooker, gather information from the other prostitutes, monitor the drug activity, and see if she could find the source.

"We know the source, actually, it's just we need irrefutable evidence," Gene said tightly.

He leaned close to Georgie.

"There is nothing, and I do mean nothing I hate more in this world than a dirty cop," he hissed urgently.

"Sir, I'm married," Georgie said. "I agree, I hate dirty cops too, but a hooker? I really am not comfortable with the idea of..."

"And you won't have to," Bob assured her.

The trio went over her cover, whom she would report to, and how.

"Need to be a good actor," Bob smiled.

"I'm married, sir," Georgie smiled. "If I can act like I give a hoot who wins the Final Four, this should be no problem."

"Aw hey now! Final Four? That's important!" Gene said.

"Oh I agree!" Georgie said, face a mask of enthusiasm.

"I love her," Gene laughed. "Honey, you get tired of looking at Sheriff Ugly here, I got a spot on my force for you,"

"Gene, steal this one don't ever talk to me again, hear?" Bob said seriously.

Georgie was given a car, a battered Mercury Sable with the speakers and stereo already ripped out,

"Yeah, looks like crap," John Farmer, owner/operator of George's Garage agreed. "And it handles like you're driving a truck; we installed heavy duty shocks on it."

He pointed to a small switch under the steering column.

"Flip that up, you got nearly six hundred horsepower; it'll get you out of there in a hurry. Glass is Plexiglas; they're not going to be able to break into it. Tires have three locking nuts on each one and the rims have solid steel doughnuts. Even if they shoot out your tires, you'll still be able to role."

"Good God," Georgie said, surprised at all the features built into the battered looking vehicle.

"Here you are, Miss Andrews," John said, calling Georgie by her undercover name while handing her the falsified paperwork.

"Thank you, sir," Georgie said.

At the apartment, Rayanne dashed down the stairs, even though she still had thirty minutes to get to her two o'clock class. She could see the mailman up the street, but knew it'd take him at least ten minutes to get to their apartment building and decided not to wait.

She waved at that attractive blonde as the woman was backing an ugly looking car into her parking spot and frowned. She could have sworn that the woman had been driving a mini-van yesterday. Rayanne shrugged; maybe Georgie had borrowed the van for moving boxes.

After class, Rayanne used the library until it was time to meet with her Student Advisor, then found a Sociology study group,.

Finally, she decided to return to her apartment.

Her mailbox had a key and she puzzled over it for a minute, then realized she was supposed to use the key to open one of the large mailboxes at the end of the cluster of boxes.

"Oh!" she almost screamed happily as she found a large package waiting for her.

Georgie stepped out of her apartment, very uncomfortable with her appearance in poor white trash drug addict hooker clothing.

"Ooh, girl, you got you a date?" Rayanne asked as Georgie pulled the filthy sweater a little more tightly around her flimsy top.

Georgie smiled, almost laughing.

"No, not exactly," Georgie smiled.

Rayanne looked at the very short denim skirt and did not point out that it was ripped, that there were a few stains on it.

"But uh, hey, you uh, you like Chinese?" Georgie asked as Rayanne fumbled with her keys.

Georgie did not know why she was asking the younger girl if she liked Chinese food. She was gay, Georgie finally accepted it about herself, finally acknowledged that it was true. But Georgie knew nothing about the African-American girl, other than Rayanne was extremely friendly.

"Ooh, yeah!" Rayanne said. "Miss Kelly got me this pineapple chicken stir fry dinner? You just heat it up in the microwave? Oh it's so good!"

"Uh, hey, how about um, how about Thursday night I take you to Jade Garden right there in Baylor Lake?" Georgie asked, sure her face was burning from the blush she could feel.

"Oh really?" Rayanne asked excitedly.

"Yeah, about six?" Georgie asked, lightly touching the girl's hand.

"It's a date!" Rayanne said, smiling happily.

"Okay, got to go," Georgie said, glancing at the cheap watch.

"Thursday night," Rayanne double-confirmed.

Inside her apartment, she forced herself to calmly open the package, rather than just rip it apart.

The clerk that had filled the order had packed the corset right on top, with the matching thong panties, the rose applique stockings, and the matching short robe, which Rayanne had not ordered. Underneath was her pretty tee shirt, and a small box.

Inside the box was a small hard plastic vibrator, complete with one double-AA battery.

"Let us know how we did!" was printed across the top of her invoice in big bold letters, along with the web site address.

Checking that the blinds on the window were securely down, , Rayanne stripped out of her clothing and tried on her purchases.

The full length mirror on the bathroom door helped her monitor her progress and she admired the intimate apparel.

"Damn, girl, you're hot!" she announced.

She pulled on a soft denim skirt and matching jacket and decided this would be her outfit for her dinner with her new neighbor. Rayanne was more than sure that the attractive blonde was straight; the landlord had said she was a mom with two kids, but she still wanted to look as pretty as possible.

Pulling up to the apartment block C in the Waters Streets government housing, Georgie parked her car, looking warily around her.

"Yo, yo, that's my boy's spot," a teenaged boy declared.

"Name ain't on it," Georgie said.

"Yeah, well, he told me keep my eye on it, don't be letting no cracker bitches be parking in it," the boy said.

"Well, should have done a better job of watching it, huh?" Georgie said, making sure the doors were securely locked.

"Bitch, don't think you heard me," the boy said then yelped as Georgie lifted him by his throat.

"Call me bitch again and I fuck you up, feel me," Georgie snapped.

"Let me hold five you park there all you want," the boy choked out.

"No," Georgie said and shoved him away. "And don't be fucking with my car neither."

Even in her cheap clothing, even with the expertly applied make-up that made it look like she still had the remnants of a black eye and a split lip, Georgie was still prettier than the two other white prostitutes standing and trolling for customers. The others steered clear of her, glaring hatefully at her.

Observing them, Georgie also began to jerk slightly, also began to scratch at herself, began to wipe at her nose a lot, just like they were doing.

"Aw yeah, hey now," Jase said as he pulled up in his car.

"Girl you ain't one of Jewels' better walk on out of here," one of the Latin girls hissed at Georgie, nodding toward Jase with her head.

Georgie looked and saw a mean looking white man making a bee-line for her. She began to shuffle away as fast as she could.

"Hey," Jase ordered, grabbing her arm with his good arm.

"Leave me alone! I ain't doing nothing!" Georgie screamed, acting terrified, strung-out.

"You bothering me, that's what you doing," Jase said, gripping her arm savagely.

"Let me go; you hurting me!" Georgie wailed.

"Look, fucking cunt, this is where my girls hang," Jase spat, shoving her against the wall, hard.

Georgie almost reached under her sweater, almost pulled out the snub nosed .38, almost put a bullet between this hateful man's eyes, but instead stuck with the script. She and her husband were hopelessly strung out on met; she was turning tricks for drug money.

Jase had no sympathy; he grabbed the three crumpled twenties out of her purse and shoved her to the ground.

"It's a hundred to use my street, bitch," he snarled.

"No it ain't, you give that back!" she screamed.

Again, she fought very hard to stay with the script when he savagely kicked her in the side.

But it was what the other girls need to see. After Jase had left, they came over to help her.

And they told her what they knew about the Men in Blue.

"Boom Boy? Stay the fuck away from that mother fucker, know what I'm saying?" Roseanna said, wiping away spittle.

"That's for real!" Whitney agreed, scratching at her face. "Tiny dick mother fucker!"

"I seen it, I'm all like 'you sure you a brother?'" one of the African-American women cackled.

"But Popeye? Mother Fucker kill you just 'cause he like killing; he the meanest mother fucker," Roseanna said.

"Who took my money? That Popeye?" Georgie asked, scratching at her own face.

"Him? No, no, that Jewels," Whitney said. Seen all them rings?"

At two o'clock in the morning, Georgie left. Tiredly, she approached her car and nodded in satisfaction; it seemed undisturbed.

Gene and Bob were thrilled with the information she'd been able to ferret out of the hookers and Georgie also described how most of the hookers were actually dressed and Bob agreed to look through

Supplies for nylon shorts and ripped tee shirts.

It was nearly four o'clock in the morning before she was able to return to her apartment; out of instinct, she had almost turned the car onto the street she used to live on, almost drove to Ronnie's house.

Inside her apartment, Georgie sprawled out onto the brand new bed, with the brand new comforter, and fell asleep immediately.

That morning, again, Ronnie found out that RJ and Sandra did not dress themselves, did not feed themselves, did not fix their own lunch for school, and if allowed to, would sleep right through the morning rituals.

"Mrs. Elizabeth wants to see you," Jacy Kay quietly informed him when he managed to drag himself into Young Insurance.

"God damn, just what I need; another fucking dyke chewing on my ass," Ronnie thought to himself.

Even though Elizabeth Coutre was married, to a dorky looking Oscar Coutre, Ronnie was more than sure the woman was, just like his wife had been, a closet lesbian. It would explain the size of Elizabeth's balls.

Twenty minutes later, a thoroughly enraged Ronnie was at his desk, wondering why he had not just quit, had not informed Mrs. Elizabeth Coutre she could suck his dick, oh, and after she finished that, she could shove this job up her fat pregnant ass and then eat shit and die.

"Mr. Edwards?" Jacy's squeaky voice cut through his rage. "A Mr. Peters is on line three for you, sir."

"Thank you," Ronnie said, punching 'three' on his pad.

Hopefully his client had another project that would need to be insured. A nice little sale would shut that man-hating Elizabeth Coutre up.

But his client was just letting him know he needed to drop his Lexus from his policy.

At six that evening, his sister Connie did come over, just to give a helping hand.

"Uh hey, you uh..." Ronnie begged.

"You know, Ronnie, I sat here and watched your wife manage just fine without you," Connie said. "She got their dinner, got their baths, made sure their clothes were washed; you need to wash RJ's uniform, by the way; he got grass on his ass, how'd you do that, huh boy? And she didn't whine about it."

"Well la dee dah!" Ronnie snarled hatefully.

"Okay, you obviously got this just fine if that's the attitude you're going to have, bye," Connie smirked and grabbed her purse. "Don't forget, wash RJ's uniform."

In her apartment, Georgie fixed herself a heaping sandwich and made sure to drink a protein drink. She had almost lost her appetite for them when Ronnie would grab his crotch and tell her he had plenty of protein for her.

She resisted the urge to call the house. She wanted desperately to hear her babies' voices, tell them she loved them and missed them so much. But she had said, and Ronnie had agreed, that it would just confuse and upset them and make their separation that much more painful for the children.

She really had to fight the urge when her sister in law called to give her the report of how Ronnie was obviously overwhelmed by it all.

At least his hateful ranting phone calls had stopped. Per Sophia Coutre's instructions, she did record the conversations, did inform Ronnie she was recording them, and now made copies of all the hateful text messages he was sending her.

She finished her dinner, cleaned her dish, the knife, and then wiped the not-dirty counter clean.

With a sigh, Georgie dressed for another night of work, again making sure her snub nose .38 was hidden, and her muscles were concealed by a filthy sweatshirt. Cindy Videau had assured her that the clothes were cleaned, but Georgie could swear she could smell the previous owner's sweat. Underneath it all, she wore her thickest bra and full cotton briefs, but still , the filthy looking clothing made her squirm.

A glance down at Apartment 2D did not show the sweet faced black girl, but just thinking about the girl made Georgie smile softly.

And again, Jase slapped her around, took her money, threatened her, and then left. Again, the girls were a wealth of information against Boom Boy, Jewels, and Popeye, the Men in Blue gang.

"Why you call him Popeye?" Georgie whispered as she watched Dan Ragliani enter the building across the street.

"He hitting you or shooting you, he close one eye. Like he afraid it going pop out," Whitney shrugged.

The first night, she had been able to avoid getting into any cars, avoid being picked up by any johns. Tonight, though, a black man pulled up, hateful music blaring out, vibrating the very ground, and pointed at Georgie.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"How much for a blow job?" he asked.

"Uh, twenty five," Georgie said, having just heard black girl give that price.

"Get in," the man said.

"Let's see the money first," Georgie said.

"I said get in, fucking cracker ass bitch," the man snarled and grabbed Georgie, jamming his foot on the accelerator.

Georgie screamed, her three new friends screamed, and when the car screeched around the corner, Georgie took action.

With her free hand, she grabbed the gearshift and jammed it up into 'Park', then grabbed the keys out of the ignition.

"Aw you done did it now you cracker ass mother fucking bitch!" the man screamed. "This ain't even my ride; this is my brother's wheels, you fucking bitch!"

"And I'm a human being who doesn't deserve to be grabbed like that and taken for a drag, ass hole," Georgie snarled and struck the man in his face twice.

He would come to an hour later, with a splitting headache and nausea from the concussion and no memory of what he was doing there.

"Aw girl you all right?" Roseanna asked when Georgie strolled back, remembering to hobble as if she'd been hurt in the altercation.

"God damned mother fucking ass hole," Georgie broke into very real tears. "I swear, soon as I get off this shit, I ain't never doing this shit no more!"

"Uh huh," Roseanna said without enthusiasm.

"What?" Georgie asked.

"Girl, I been in rehab three times, shit don't work," Roseanna said. "You figure out way get off this shit, you let me know, all right?"

A car came to a stop and Roseanna walked over and leaned into the car's passenger window.

Again, it was nearly four o'clock before Georgie was able to make it home and crawl into bed.

Chapter 7

Rayanne put on what limited cosmetics she had, then pulled on her panties. The full length mirror revealed that she had done a very good job of trimming her thick black pubic hair; none peeked out on the sides.

The corset went on, lifting her small breasts up and leaving her quarter sized dark brown nipples exposed.

The rose stockings just looked so pretty on her chocolate legs that she stood and admired her legs from all angles before finally pulling the skirt on, then her pretty rose tee shirt. Her denim jacket was draped over the foot of her bed. Then she pulled on her black pumps. Miss Kelly had wanted her to get the pumps with the four inch heels, but Rayanne could barely walk in them, so they'd settled for the two inch heels.

Her black leather purse held her keys, student ID, debit card, lip gloss (she looked at her face in the full length mirror and had to admit, she'd kiss her. A lot.) And a sticky note with Mr. Gordon and Miss Kelly's phone numbers.

Georgie tried several times to dress for the date, then reminded herself, it wasn't a date. It was just two women, neighbors in the very early stages of developing friendship going out to eat dinner and get to know each other. As cute as Rayanne was, as friendly as Rayanne was, Georgie very much doubted that Rayanne would be interested in a lesbian relationship. Especially a lesbian relationship with a white mother of two.

She finally decided on a black scoop neck sweater and knee length black and white skirt with nude colored stockings and her four inch black pumps. Underneath the sweater, Georgie was going braless, but decided, as excited as she already was, going without panties was just begging for a wet spot on the back of her skirt. As a compromise, Georgie put on a very sexy pair of lace panties.