Disclaimer: Characters belong to James Patterson, The Women's Murder Club and ABC. Except for Icee Bear. He's mine.
Author's Note: Since he appeared in a previous Bard Challenge, this story is not competing. Thank you to my extraordinary Beta…she vacuums up all the commas, typos and mistakes. If she left any, it's probably because the bag was full.
By McFluffy
Martha turned her head and glanced back for a moment as she heard the telltale click of nails on the hardwood floor. She resumed watching the two women who were talking in the kitchen. Her yellow lab housemate sidled up to her and sat down.
“I thought Border Collies were supposed to be the smartest dogs in the world.”
Martha sighed and rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”
“You're sitting here waiting again, aren't you?”
“Mom is taking me out for a ride.”
“No she isn't.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Isn't.”
“Is too. She got me these special glasses.”
“No she isn't. MY Mom is not going to let her take you out in that ‘deathtrap'.”
“It's a motorcycle and sidecar. My Mom and I have gone out lots of times before we met you and your Mom.” She glared at him. “It's not a deathtrap.”
“To-may-to, To-mah-to. Fact is... you ain't going.” He scratched an imaginary itch.
“Am too.”
“Are no....”
Both dogs stopped and turned at the sound of their respective mistress' raised voices. The two women walked from the kitchen to the bedroom arguing the entire way.
“No, Lindz... you can't take Martha out in that thing. It's dangerous.”
“It's no more dangerous than walking the neighborhood. We are only going for a ride, not trying to set a world speed record.”
“She is not wearing a helmet like you do. She could get hurt.”
“She'll be harnessed in and I got her special dog goggles to keep dirt and debris out of her eyes, okay?”
“See… see….” the redhead gestured wildly. “Dirt and debris. She could get hurt….”
“She a collie… bred to be adventurous. Your dog would enjoy it too if you hadn't turned him into a couch spud who is a big chicken. Besides, I enjoy riding. The fresh air clears the cobwebs and helps me blow off stress.”
“He's a lover, not a fighter.” She pointed to the dog. “You make it sound like he is afraid of his own shadow.” She paused and thought. “He barked at the mailman the other day.”
“OOOh, my big brave protector. Protect us from Priority mail.” Lindsay snarked.
“Look, honey." She leaned into the brunette and walked her fingers up Lindsay's chest. “If all you want is a thorough… uh… dusting....” She smiled seductively at Lindsay. “I assure you that I know lots of ways to help you relieve stress that do not involve rocketing yourself and a dog down a highway at a bazillion miles an hour."
“I dunno… but I guess I could listen to your ideas.” Lindsay wrapped her arms around the shorter woman's waist and led her to the bedroom.
Both dogs flinched when the door slammed closed.
“Did you hear that? She called me a chicken.” Icee Bear stood up. “I am not a bird. I'm a dog.”
“She knows that, ding dong. She meant that you are afraid of things.” Martha turned to her companion. “Well, like the cat next door. You never chase or tree her.” She snorted. “I guess you are afraid of her.”
“I am not,” Bear answered indignantly. “I'll prove it.” He got up and made his way toward the kitchen and the doggy door to the backyard. “Hey, you coming?”
“Nah, told ya - I'm waiting for Mom.”
He shook his head. “And they think she's the smart one.” He pushed his way through the doggy door. “Here kitty kitty….”
The bedroom door opened and a brunette head popped out. “C'mere, Boo.” She stepped out into the hallway and knelt down. Martha walked over and sat in front of her owner while Lindsay removed the goggles. She ruffled Martha's ears playfully. “Sorry girl - next time, okay?” She stood and walked over to the credenza in the dining area. Lindsay popped open a container and pulled out a couple of rawhide bones. She handed one to the collie. “This should keep you busy for awhile.” She looked around. “Where's Bear?” She tossed a second rawhide bone onto the rug into the middle of the room. “I guess he'll find it when he comes in.”
“Oh, Inspector….” Lindsay's attention was drawn to the sweet voice coming from the bedroom. “I'm ready to start your stress reduction therapy.”
Lindsay made her way back into the bedroom, stopped at the door and turned to address Martha. “You be good.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I'm gonna go be extraordinary.” Lindz entered the bedroom and closed the door.
Martha walked over to the couch and dropped her bone on the floor. Using her nose she pushed it under the couch as far as she could. She then went over and found the second bone, gave a quick glance to the kitchen doggy door and laid down on the rug. As she proceeded to gnaw on it, she thought to herself, “Yeah, I'm the smart one.”