Love/Sex: Only with my wife, who only has it with me, her wife.

Dedication: To Lori and Diane, friends that are more like family. And, as always, to the woman who I dream about even when I'm awake, my Carrie.

Stun Gun Shy

By Carrie's AJ

© 2002

The patrol officer drove along the street next to the lake by a row of older houses that had been experiencing a rash of break-ins. Slowing down so as to hear anything out of the normal on that hot summer night, she thought she heard the sound of screaming.

"OHH! Yeah! BABY!!!"

Diz Rolly shrugged her shoulders. Same sound comes from that house every night. She continued along her way, finally parking her car when she got the feeling that something wasn't right with the third house from the corner. On the right. The one with the windows broken. And the front door kicked in. And the short blond woman who had her head out of the upstairs attic window screaming for help.

After rescuing the woman, kicking a couple of burglar's butts, and seeing them off to jail, Diz Rolly returned to the house to see how the young woman was doing. Her roommate answered the door and his eyes got big. "Is something wrong? I came to see how your roommate is doing." Diz looked around and around until she nearly tipped over, thus explaining her name.

Her roommate responded, "She went down to the hospital to check on you! She wanted to thank you for rescuing her. She told me that you were severely injured."

"Well," the police woman replied. "Six months ago, my partner of four years was killed in the line of duty. He leaves behind a wife and kids, and I should have been able to stop the bullets from the Uzzi that riddled him until his poor lifeless body resembled Swiss cheese. I'm carrying around a lot of guilt over that traumatic experience . So just because my nose is broken and is currently swelling to the size of a cassava melon, and just because my left arm is dangling in a very unnatural direction, and despite the knife sticking out of my right kidney, I'm really doing pretty good, compared to him." The police woman excused herself and went on to the hospital where she ran into the smaller, blond woman.

"Officer Rolly?" The young woman greeted the officer as she came through the emergency room door.

"I have issues," the officer began.

"Of course you have issues! This is a dramatic work of fiction and a love story! If you didn't have issues, then I would have to be the one who had issues, and if neither one of us had issues, there wouldn't be much of a plot, now, would there?"

"Okay, you win." The older woman allowed the doctor to reset her arm, but balked about having it put into a cast. "I've got a roll of duct tape under the seat of my squad car." She turned to the blond woman. "Duct tape. Gotta love it. The cure for just about everything that ails you."

"I'm glad to hear it, the young woman replied. I was worried that you might not play on my team. So then, how about a date?"

"You don't want to date me. You're caught up in hero worship and the next thing you know, you'll enroll in the police academy and end up working as my partner, and then where will we be?"

"Hum? Oh, sorry." The blond lifted her hand from the officer's only good arm . She had been gently squeezing the other woman's biceps in admiration. "You must work out. I bet you're a body builder, aren't you?"

"Why, yes I am. How did you know?"

"Silly! Don't you know who your author is? At least one of us has to be health conscious, and it certainly isn' t me." The young woman closed her eyes for a second and began to imagine Officer Rolly covered in all her favorite gooey ice cream toppings.

"Speaking of you. I don't even know your name. How in the world am I supposed to obsess about you while trying to deny my feelings if I don't even know your name?"

"I'm sorry," the young woman apologized. "My name is, Jazz. I'm hopelessly attracted to you, and I plan on making you damned uncomfortable until you finally surrender your heart to me. Of course, then I'll be your most loyal companion until we have the sequel and you start to doubt our love again."

"Works for me!"

"Me, too. Why don't we cut to the chase and as soon as the doc has you all duct taped up, I'll show you what you'll be missing until the final chapters of this book? Say, what's that strapped to the back of your holster? Is that a stun gun? Wow! I read this really kinky story, and I've been wanting to try a few things out with one of these. Ooh! Officer Rolly, you are in for a real treat!"

The officer blushed. "Okie doke! I'm willing to give this a 'shot', as long as I still get to feel guilty and angst ridden. Deal?"

"Deal!" Then Jazz gave Diz Rolly a couple of volts right in the you-know-what. Diz nearly fainted from the excitement. Or maybe it was from looking from side to side, making sure that no one was watching them. The couple made their way back to Jazz's car with Diz wondering how long she could pretend that she was too guilt ridden to take advantage of all that the younger woman was offering her.

"By the way," Jazz asked, "Why do you think I'm younger than you?"

"That's obvious. You're shorter than me and you don't have a tortured past."

"Point taken," the young blonde replied. "Now let's get this plot on the road. We've got readers to titillate!"

*ZZZZZZZZZZZZAP!*

"Hey! Watch that thing. It's a stun gun, not a cattle prod!" the dark-haired officer complained.

"Do you want it to be?"

"Why don't you wait until I'm good and angsty and then you can use it to give me shock therapy?"

"Oooh! Officer Rolly, I like the way you think!"

The end.

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