** I apologize to those of you that are looking for a quickie. I wrote this story some time ago and have finally decided to submit it. I am sure where it is leading but I would love some feedback concerning what should happen next. Happy Reading! K**
I stared across the scarred table at the one-way mirror located on the opposite wall. In its reflection, I saw myself and noticed that the florescent light did nothing for my complexion. I would have to speak to someone about that, I though smiling humorously. I need a haircut, I mussed as I critically looked at my waist-length brown hair. Not a trim, but a cut, something to shock people.
Just then, a man walked in followed closely by another man. The last man reminded me of a lost puppy who had found his owner. Or perhaps like someone with a schoolgirl...ahem, school boy crush. I quirked an eyebrow, sizing up the pair but wasn't able to discover the outcome of the big one's sexual proclivities. Hmm, I contemplated my gaydar must be off.
The gay one, who I'm sure had a name but whom I'd dubbed Alistair, settled in the seat across from me after checking with the big one. He was gripping a manila folder between his well-polished hands.
The large one however, stayed standing. I discovered quickly he was the dominant one just by watching his mannerism. He never came around to stand where I could see him, staying behind me and watching me the whole time in the mirror. Ahh, big man, he was trying to use scare tactics on little ol' me.
"Ms. Wilson," the big man began, breaking into my thoughts, "got any idea why I've called you in here?"
His voice, deep and melodic, boomed around the concrete room, sending a shiver up my spine. What the fuck, I thought, wondering at my body's awareness.
"Well, officer, could it be the unpaid parking tickets?" I said, trying for humor to keep my thoughts off my body's betrayal.
"Detective, Ms. Wilson," he replied sharply.
Oh, touchy about that huh? I mussed silently, must be trying to compensate for other problems. I smirked slightly before replying, "Excuse me, DETECTIVE," stressing the word.
In the mirror, I saw his eyebrows draw together making his look sort of like a Neanderthal. Well at least he wasn't always handsome.
"Ms. Wilson, this isn't a joking matter, I've brought you down here for a serious charge. You could face a lot of jail time."
"Detective, I don't see me laughing so if you could just cut the crap and get this show on the road. I'd like to go home and go to sleep sometime before I age anymore than I already am."
He drew himself up like a spinster with a broomstick stuffed up her ass. So the detective doesn't like orders, especially from a girly girl like myself. I rolled my eyes mentally and the only showing on my feelings was the way my eyes flashed lightly in the mirror.
Across from me, Alistair was beginning to look like he'd swallowed a lemon. What is with these men? I swear, you'd think they would have better poker faces.
Suddenly, surprising both men, and a little bit of myself, I grabbed the folder Alistair was holding, opening it to discover its contents. Inside it were pictures of young girls, ages unknown, dressed provocatively posing erotically. Alistair was a kiddie porn person. I looked up at him shocked, blurting, "Alistair, shame on you. I would have thought you'd go for the boys instead of the girls."
Behind me, big one barked a laugh, before covering it with a cough. However, his face darkened soon after before he grabbed the folder from me. "Ms. Wilson, we found these pictures on your computer."
I jerked my head to look at him directly. I looked at him as if he'd grown another head. "You are shitting me. You think I like kiddie porn?" I abruptly started laughing.
"I'm kinky, man, but I ain't that kinky. No, kids have never been my thing."
I continued to laugh hysterically, and for a second I think the detective contemplated slapping me to make me shut up. Guess he doesn't get to many women laughing weirdly at a subject such as this. I admit it wasn't a laughing matter but to think that me, the goodie-goodie of town, was involved in child pornography. My mother would be appalled. This made me laugh harder.
Finally I had myself under control and after I wiped the tears from my cheeks and had wiped my glasses, I looked at him in the mirror. Alistair had left, probably to go cry about the things that I had said. I would have to send him an I'm sorry card tomorrow. I snorted softly, like that would happen.
"Are you quite finished, Ms. Wilson?" he said, his voice again giving me goose pimples.
"Detective, why don't you call me Arielle? I mean you've accused me of being a pedophile. Now I'm finished with the laughing, and I'd like to get this cleared up as soon as possible. I've got to pee, by the way."
"I'll allow you to use the bathroom once I've had some questions, Ms. Wilson." So that was how it was gonna be huh? Ok, two can play that game.
"Are you charging me with possessing child porn, Detective? Because if you are, I get one phone call. If you aren't then I'd like to use the fucking bathroom." I didn't let any emotion enter my voice, all the while staring at him standing over my shoulder. I saw his mouth quirk at the use of a curse word. So the detective's like everyone else, I thought. He takes one look at me and sees what he wants to see.
Standing at 5'2 and weighing 135, I was short and fat. I knew it, other people knew it, and I was comfortable with it. I had been called everything from elf, to hobbit, to little person at one time or another during my lifetime. The great thing about being short though was that you always looked younger than you really are. So when people discovered that I was 25, they often exclaimed that I didn't look a day over 20. Bless their hearts.
"Detective," I began, " If you don't give me a goddamn bathroom break, I am going to start screaming something extremely unkind about you. Something along the lines of you getting you pencil dick out of my face. I don't believe your superiors allow fornication between interviewers and interviewees."
