Maybe
By: Agent NewbeauNez
Summary: Mike gets some interesting email which leads to an interesting
possibility.
I wish I knew who sent me those stories. Whoever this person is
that wrote them, she sure has
an amazing imagination. I remember that episode, the one with Ellen.
They never let me have a girlfriend
on the show because I was married and had an image to maintain. That was
the closet I had to a love
interest on the show. Well, her and Miss Buntwell, but those clothes
were just really weird and she
smelled funny.
Ellen was pretty, I remember that very well, with her long auburn
hair and those brown eyes. I
just wish the writers had decided to do more with that episode. At least
this person who wrote these
stories noticed the possibility. If only I hadn't been married then,
maybe something would have
happened on the show.
I read Whipped Cream first. I needed a cold shower after that. I
forgot that it was about me
and enjoyed it. Whoever it was that wrote it, she's good. She made me
feel like I was young again.
Then I read Genesis. Damn, that was one hot story. I was tempted to
buy a pair of black
boxers, but I had nobody to wear them for. And that shower scene. That
was intense.
I wish I knew who sent these to me. Maybe they knew where I could
email this person to tell
her how her stories made me feel. Was the one who wrote them the same
one who sent them to me?
I reread the email, searching for a clue. There was no name, just
two initials, S.B. The first thing
I thought of was Shorty Blackwell, but that didn't help me. I didn't
think Micky's cat was smart enough
to send email.
Then like a bolt out of the blue, I realized who it was. I had to
reply. I wrote, "Susan, if that's
you, I'd like to talk. Here is my private number." I sent the email and
waited. Five minutes later the
phone rang.
My hand was shaking slightly as I picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
A voice I hadn't heard in far too long said, "I just had to speak
to someone."
"It's been a long time, Susan," I said. "If you're in the area, I'd
like to take you out to dinner."
"I'd love to, Michael" she answered. "I'm staying at the Holiday
Inn in Santa Fe, room 102."
"Is that an invitation?" I asked.
"Bring a can of whipped cream and maybe you'll get lucky," she
said.
I couldn't believe it. I'd always suspected that she'd had a crush
on me all those years ago, but
I had been married. Now I had been divorced for a long time and there
was nothing to stop me. "I'll be
there in thirty minutes," I said.
The End!
There's a possibility of a sequel. Let me know what you think.
(
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