Sweating Bullets

"You know," Cindy says, putting her right hand on her 9mm, "I didn't expect that."


John gets down on one knee for a closer inspection of the victim. 


"No, I mean it," she says to no one in particular.  "I really didn't expect anything like this.  I braced myself to find what was left of a body eaten by cats, maybe."  She leans close to the bullet hole and closes one eye, as if looking through a telescope, "But murder?  Nope."

John stands up, looks around the room for a possible murder weapon.  "Beats driving around, I guess.  Okay, Cindy, you're the least experienced officer here --"


Cindy tries to cut him off.  "Two weeks.  Really, you're pulling the seniority crap on your wife over two weeks?"


But he totally expected her reaction so he didn't even slow down.  "-- so you go out and set up the yellow tape while I ..."  His voice fell silent.


"Freak out a little bit?"


"Just on the inside, Cindy.  Just on the inside."


She approaches him and puts her arm around his waist.  Gently he rests his head on hers, just like he would at home, out of uniform.  They both stood there for a few seconds, silently acknowledging they'd need each other more than ever in coming days.

The End

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