"Let's vamos," Kit said when the music was all over with.
        "Better than sharing me with the band, huh?" she winked at
him.
        He gave her a 'wo, yeah' look as he helped her put her jacket
on, then she helped him with his and they headed toward the exit.
        Well, many of those males there (and we do know how we
are, don't we, gents?) were even drunker than when our two flyers
had arrived and were eyeballing Jessy all the way as they proceeded
to leave. Those drunks were trying to get a hand on her or phone
number or whatever. She was well practiced, though. But one, uh,
dude point blank asked her what the hell was she doing with
"grampaw".
        Well, Jess stepped on that hoser's right foot, accidental-like,
and nudged him off balance with her left shoulder, and in a few
more moments our two were out the door.
        There were some tough-looking characters out in the lot,
though, smoking crack at a car a few spaces from the Jeep, who
spotted her right away. Two of them walked toward her and they
all arrived at the Jeep together.
        "Might-tee fine," one of the intruders cocked, looking all over
Jess. The other jerk started to block Kit's path. Well, ole Kit didn't
think past one D.C. second. He kneed that guy hard in the gonadal
bag and pulled the Beretta out of his jacket and aimed it at the other
dirtball, who had gotten even closer to Jessy. Aimed it at his privital
area, Kit did.
        "You boys ought to go somewhere else...you think?" Kit said
slowly and deeply through his gritted teeth, doing a pretty darn good
Clint for the short notice.
        The one who had reached for Jess's arm put up his hands in
front of him and backed away, begging Kit to take it easy. The other
dickhead was still doubled over in agony, holding his lower stomach
while stumbling back toward his partner. Kit got the alarm, the door
and Jess inside as he kept the gun aimed at the punks, got in and
drove them out of the lot and up the street.
        She leaned over and put her arms around him. "WOO-HOO!
You're right on the scene, dirty!....You were GREAT!" kissing his
face as he drove.
        "Thanks...dirty?...."
        "Yeah! Dirty Harry! You sounded just like 'm!" and repeated
his line, getting her voice as low as she could and gritting her teeth,
adding a little West Texas twang to it along with sticking her finger in
his ribs for effect.
        He let go a little snicker at her replay, then said, "dam assholes.
They're anywhere anymore." He was still adrenalizing. "That looked
like a good place, the band was good, and they won't keep the lot
safe. Damn. Another sign of the fuckin' times. I'm sorry, excuse me,
precious."
        "Hey, that's all right, sweetness. I understand the feelin's....But
there were guys coming over to help."
        "Shit...then they saw the gun."
        "No....I don't think so....I don't think they did, dirt man," she
smiled at him. "You hid it good."
        "Dam...we can't assume anything. And I don't have a license or
permit or...shit for it."
    `    "I don't think they'll call, Kitto. They don't want police in on
their lack of control...and I don't think those scummies know enough
to do anything."
        "I hope you're right. We should probably change vehicles....Are
you hungry?" meaning food.
        "Yeah...yes I really am....R' you?"
        "I could eat a..." and looked over at her and, yep, got immediate
thoughts of her inners. "What do you feel like eating at..." and looked
at his watch, "2 AM?"
        "Aw heck, pal, you must be tired as a loon. Let's just go back to
the hotel and get dinner sent up to the...uh, roomsz."
        "Sounds good here, maj. Maybe we better check with Puterman
first, though," he kidded, but had meant for her to check if Pute was
still under the seat, which he was, and checked that the case of packets
was still under his, a little disturbed that he had even chanced all that.
"I guess we should have gone to a country bar instead, huh?"
        "O...no. They get about as pushy. Maybe they're a little more on
manners, though."
        "Dam, what a world."
        "Pretty rough, i'n'it. But you sure handled it like you've had to
do it plenty times before, your cowboyness."
        "Not...never....But I've never had your kind of beauty in my
care, neither. Not even for practice."
        "Except for those months you lived with us, huh?"
        "That didn't count, did it?"
        She snickered at his smile to her, then added, "aw well, you did
it, my champion. I guess I'm pretty used to it, though. It's partly why
Evan gave up."
        "Too bad for Ev....I should just be more fuckin' careful is all."
        "You fuckin' did what has to be done, podner. I knew back at
school I could count on you all the way. It's just the way it is, Kit. It's
the way it is...but maybe we can get it changed!" She looked right in
his eyes looking into hers and they felt that Spirit again coursing
through their souls.
        "You're the one, Jess. You're the one!" he came back.
        "You're my one too, Kit Cody," and they kissed as he drove.
They got back to the Hyatt and on up to their rooms, plopped down
on the bed and she called room service, ordering a bottle of "good
dang" champagne and two steak dinners. "You really are tired there,
huh, buckaroo. Aww..." she said to him after hanging up, noticing he
had fallen asleep. And kissed his face.
        "Hunh....O....sorry, precious....Just restin' my eyes....Whattaya
wanta eat, majesty?" waking slowly.
        "It's ordered, 'keemo-sobby'...relax," and started taking his boots
and socks off, Kit wondering why he was getting called Tonto's name
for the Lone Ranger lately.
        "I can eat," he mumbled, and they both chuckled. "OK, don't
give me any worry here, luscious. When they knock...you're in the
bathroom. No sass, right?"
        "Whah, capt'n Cody..." she drawled, "whah kind a varmint
d'ya take me foh? Anyway? Ah'm not tryin' ta sass ya none." Had
him cracking up. "Ah'll do jus' like ya say an' be out back in the
privy 'till ya send fah me, suh."
        "OK. OK. Giveth me a break," he laughed.
        "I'll most suhtainly give ya a break. Whah yes I wi-ill. An' ah'll
throw in the kaboodle too, Ki-it." She smiled some more at him as
she denuded his second foot of its sock, went over to her jacket on a
chair and pulled out a little Silver-plated cigarette case, opened it up
and took out a joint. A dube. Reef. Gone-ya.
        He snickered quietly as he watched her, "well, I'll be dam....
Don't you dare light that up until room service is come an' gone. And
what are you doing with that anyway, young lady?" trying to feign
shock of some sort.
        "Yeah, right. Tell me now that you don't still smoke. Giveth me
a break. I heard about your rep. Kicked out Nixon stoned, and all
sorts of wizardry. And you don't trust me?! Why, shame on ya,
Cody."
        "Wo...easy..." he smiled. "All I know is, if they have any kind
of surveillance in here, we're history. Done. Gone. Vamosed. And
you probably haven't thought about that, have you?"
        "I might have."
        "Hah! I thought so," he razzed in mock reprimand and was
struck again by all her beauty standing there by the bed smiling back
at him. Then she went to the guitar bag, got the Gibson out, sat down
on the bed, tuned "Gibby" to perfect and started playing. His brain
just stopped, looked and listened like a train crossing. Soon enough,
though, room service was knocking. She sashayed into the bathroom,
leaving the guitar on the bed, and Kit let the hop in, who introduced
himself.
        Jack said, "real nice music, sir," as he put the tray on the stand
he put up. The young man had expected to meet Jess, having known
the "skinny" on the room call, so was just a twinge dejected in voice,
having paid the twenty bucks to take the call.
        "Thanks, son," Kit tipping him forty, "and thanks for the
service," and saw young Jack out.
        Jessy came back out naked. Nude. Birthday suit. Not a thread.
Kit managed, "you're GOD awesome, precious. I wish I knew the
words," and gawked. "But, what're you goinna tuck your napkin
into?"
        "Whah, yaw gonna lick it off me, ahrn't ya, sah?" and
proceeded to rassle his clothes off of him, then they served dinner,
after cool down, on each other after smoking the J and drinking the
"pain"; and they made love through almost the rest of the night. And
there's plenty more detail they gave us about it all, but, as said, no
sense in boring you all. Except, maybe, for one point when he had to
take a leak and she went in with him, stood behind him and held it
for him and he said, all exhausted, inebriated and stoned, "you can't
do this. Can you do this?"
        "What's so hard about this?" she razzed back, all inebriated
and stoned herself. Not that it's all that funny to us. But it sure was to
them that night in their condition, most especially when she aimed it
for him while she played with his balls, then shook ole pete
after, asking him if that was how and, since it started making him
hard again, he answered, "yip."


NEXT PAGE