Date: Wed, 09 Jul 2003 04:36:01 -0400
From: Noni Y. Mouse <nonimouse440@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kiss of Life Chapter 5

Hi folks- sorry that this took so long to crank out. Surprisingly, when I
started writing, it all just began to flow, so I hope you enjoy! Please
people remember- when you're making whoopee out there, there are things
other than AIDS that can stick with you for life, or at least become an
unpleasant temporary house-guest, so wrap it up!! Please feel free to send
me some feedback NoniMouse440@hotmail.com , and let me know what you think
of how it's going.
This work is MY creative property, so no one had better copy it. Go get your
own! If you're not allowed to view this kind of material in your state, I
think that you should try to change the legislation. Thanks much-
                                       NM


Chapter 5:


	In the deep blue glow of early morning, a bird sat on a branch, chirping
out a song containing the secrets of grub hunting, annual migration, chick
rearing and nest building. To certain ears, this chirping could only be
taken for what it was- a sharp melody that pierced the silence that had
descended upon the room where the naked man, wilted erection, stood,
dripping cum and sweat, while he was stared at, open mouthed, by two other
men and a red-faced nurse, in shock. To say that this is what either of the
people in the room had expected of the day, would be to lie bold-facedly. To
say that this day was quite unique, and unlike any other in the participants
lives would be a blazing truth that had been burned into the memories of all
members for forever to come. The nurse was the first to move. Although
red-faced, and clearly embarrassed, an instinct took over in her, and she
moved, not entirely realizing that she was moving, or of what she was moving
to do.
	"OK, nothing to see here gentleman. Please give us ten minutes, and we'll
have the patient available to answer your questions. In the meantime, please
wait outside, and I'll come to get you when we're ready." She began to
physically push the two men out of the room, leaving a ghostly white
hospital patient, standing and unsure of what to do, in the bathroom. After
she had gotten the two detectives out of the room, she closed the door,
stood facing it for a few second, took a deep breath and then turned around.
She was now in control, and actively engaged in taking care of the
situation. But as she turned around, she saw that Mike had closed the
bathroom door as much as possible, and she heard the sounds of him splashing
around. She moved to assist him, but then stopped and thought better of it.
Instead, she set about straightening up the room, and laying out something
fresh for him to put on. 10 minutes later, she ushered in two anxious
detectives, eager to not see anything that they weren't supposed to. The
detective with the brown hair strolled right up to Mike's bedside, where
Mike lay under the covers, propped up, and shook his hand.
	"Mr. Dana, my name is Detective Anderson. My partner is Detective Henders.
We're here to investigate the incident that occurred at your apartment a
couple of nights ago. First off, can you think of anyone who'd have it out
for you? Gotten into an argument lately with anyone? Any ex girlfriends who
might want to do you in, or money situations you've gotten into?" Henders
took out a notebook, a pen and a tape recorder, and pressed record. He found
that it helped to record the whole conversation, but to write down only the
seemingly important clues at the scene. Later, if he needed clarification,
he could refer to the tape recorder, and then to the interviewee if
necessary.
	"I live alone, I have no friends, and consequently, I have no enemies. It's
just me and my dog, Jeff. My family lives in another state, so I'm really
all alone here. I've been living here for 7 years now. I can't think of
anyone who'd have a problem with me. And no, no shady loan situations going
on- I don't exactly need to borrow or lend money to anyone. I'm quite self
sustaining on what I make at work." Detective Anderson nodded, and sat in
thought for a moment.
	"Well Mr. Dana, according to the information you gave to the 911 operator,
the license plate number and make of the car that you allege you saw
speeding away from your complex that night, we actually have someone in
custody. I asked you those questions in order to try to understand if you
have a connection to the perp. He claims that you and he had an altercation
earlier on that evening, and that he was no where near your apartment at the
time of the incident. He says that whatever happened to you, you're accusing
him because of the altercation that happened earlier in the evening. Is
anyone coming to mind, Mr. Dana?" Anderson leaned in closer, focused
completely on Mike's face. He studied Mike's features, trying to gauge if it
seemed as thought Mike would allude to any guilt via his expression. Mike's
face contorted in confusion. He was trying to remember the day he'd had,
what he'd done.
	"I... well... I went to work that day... then after work I went home to
take Jeff out and give him some outdoor time... then I went to the ....
MOVIES!" he shouted, jumping up in the bed and nearly knocking Detective
Anderson to the floor. Even Detective Henders gave a slight jump. "I went to
the movies! A couple of rows behind me, there was this couple- a guy and a
girl- and they were... uhm..." at this point, Mike turned crimson, and
looked into the detective's eyes, pleading mentally that the detective would
get the hint, and nod him on. But that didn't happen. The detective started
right back, waiting for Mike to continue on. "They were... uhm... well...
uhm... involved-like...." And he waited again, to which the detective's face
took on a confused look, and at that point, Mike threw his hands up, sighed
and let it out, "they were being... intimate... with one another. They were
mutually... uhm... touching... uhm... one another... do you understand me,
Detective Anderson?" At which Detective Anderson, replaying the scene he'd
burst into in the bathroom not a half an hour ago, turned scarlet, and to
which Detective Henders gave a short muffled snort into his notepad. He
seemed to have found his notepad riveting at that moment, because he had his
face buried well within it.
	"I... uhm... understand, Mr. Dana. How do ... uhm... they... uhm... relate
to yourself?" Mike looked down, the humor and embarrassment of the moment
suddenly gone like a cold blast on air in a midday dessert.
	"They made fun of me on the way out. I'd heard them, and tried to ignore
it, and I guess my moving about must have seemed... rude or something... to
them. They were making comments as I left. But that's the only thing that
happened to me that day... well, besides a brick being launched through my
window," he gave a weak smile at the bed sheets and then turned to face
Detective Anderson, "but I never got a good look at him- I didn't look at
either of them as I walked out of the theater. I had to leave... I was very
uncomfortable." Mike sat in silence for a moment longer.
	"Mr. Dana, thanks for that information. The suspect we have in custody
claims that you made a pass at him in a movie theater, and then made lewd
gestures towards his girlfriend. She's claiming to be his witness, and she's
corroborating his statement. The claim is that there was an argument that
erupted, which spilled into the parking lot. They got into their car and
sped away, leaving you behind in the lot after them. Mr. Dana, we need to
know, and I am sorry to have to ask this question, but it's necessary....
Are you a homosexual?" Mike's blood froze in his veins. Chills ran up and
down his back, and his heart gave stabbing, shooting pains in his chest. He
looked up slowly into Detective Anderson's eyes, and nodded, eyes watering.
He felt humiliated, afraid and angry- now that the car had been linked to
the guy in the theater, he was infuriated. That low crook had turned the
story around, and made it look as though Mike were some lewd and loose
predatory homosexual who had gotten what he'd deserved. And THAT was NOT
fair.
	"Whatever my sexual orientation is, Detective Anderson, I assure you that
that son of a bitch is lying his crooked head off. AND his girlfriend. I'll
take a lie detector test, I'll do anything you want me to, because I'm
telling the truth- I did NOT do what that man said I did." Mike's cheeks
burned hot with his anger- the sudden shift from frozen terror to burning
anger made him a little light headed, but he was not about to stop. He had
sat up further from his pillows, and his fists were clenched. He didn't
realize that he'd been hissing through clenched teeth, but the ache in his
jaw exploded, and the tension that had turned his body into a solid rock of
constricted muscle, suddenly washed away, and he slumped back into the bed.
"But there are no witnesses, right? Except for his girlfriend, so I guess
it's my word against his and hers. If he's the guy that owns that car, then
I KNOW that he's the one who attacked me. He must have followed me home, and
watched to see if I'd be in one of the street-facing apartments. That
parking lot is well lit, and I'm only on the second floor. Anyone can see
right into my dining room window when the blinds are up, and the blinds were
definitely up... but there weren't any witnesses... so I guess I have
nothing... this is so unfair... I hope to God he doesn't attack me again. Do
you think I should move?" Mike turned to the Detective, looking for answers.
He felt dishearted, but he had the future to think of... the near future, at
least. If he was going to end up dying, it'd be by his own hands, not by the
hands of someone else. The Detective leaned back, and watched Mike's face.
	"Mr. Dana," he said softly, "in fact, we know now that the gentleman we
have in custody is lying through his teeth. It turns out that there is a
witness- the projection booth operator had been in the booth, when he
happened to glance down to take a count as to how many people were in the
theater, and saw everything- from the guy and his girlfriend making out to
your walking out. He says that no words were exchanged from you to the
suspect, but that he could make out the suspect and his girlfriend's mouth
moving and the both of them pointing at you. The story you just told me
corroborates with everything that he told us, and so, I definitely know
which party is telling the truth in this case. So relax- you don't have to
move, and you DO have a case against him. The question is- would you like to
press charges? We can give this to the DA- scum like him will probably take
a plea, and we'll see how that goes. But Mr. Dana... my advice to you is to
stick it to him. Don't let him get away. We might even be able to prosecute
this as a hate crime due to the nature of what happened. If you don't press
charges, the District Attorney's office will, and we'll have to subpoena you
as a witness anyway. So what do you say?" Mike was nodding before the
Detective had even finished asking.
	"Yes. Yes I will press charges. I want justice," Mike said firmly, to which
the Detective flashed him a brilliant white, Colgate smile.
	"Excellent, Mr. Dana. We'll just have to ask you to write down your
statement, and we'll take it from there. Now do you have a lawyer? Or would
u like for me to find one for you?" to which Detective Henders gave a start
and a grunt. He'd never heard his partner be so nice or offer so much
before, and they'd been together for a good 3 years. He raised an eyebrow,
and went back to his notebook. Mike smiled at Detective Anderson.
	"I'd like to say that I could do it on my own, however, I don't know of any
good ones. If you could recommend someone to me, I'd be so grateful."
Detective Anderson blushed, and looked down, the thought running through his
mind before he could stop it, 'exactly HOW grateful?'
	"I'll leave you my card, so that you can contact me in case you need...
anything. I'll be in touch with you in a day or two with a lawyer for you to
contact. If you don't hear from me by then, please call me." Detective
Anderson stood to leave, and stuck his hand out to Mike. Henders cleared up
his recorder and his notepad, and rose as well. Mike smiled, and shook
Anderson's hand, and waved goodbye to both men as they exited the room. He
was settling back into the pillows when a familiar brown head poked around
the door, and a familiar warm, strong hand rapped lightly on the doorframe.
Mike looked up.
	"uhm... come in, detective Anderson. Did you forget something?" Mike looked
at the Detective questioningly. Anderson shifted, and then cleared his
throat.
	"There was something, actually. Uhm... Michael... when are you getting out
of here? Have they told you?" Mike was puzzled- but noticed right away that
Detective Anderson had chosen to call him Michael instead of Mr. Dana.
	"They said that I might get out of here tonight, actually. They just want
to make sure that I won't have anymore episodes... I think its time for me
to get out of here, anyway. It's getting... confining." Anderson chuckled at
that.
	"Well... since you'll be getting out of here tonight... and well... you
won't have had time to make dinner... would you like to get some dinner
tonight? We could do delivery, or take out or something? I can't cook... but
if you really want a home cooked meal, I can try..." He trailed off,
mumbling and looking at the floor. Mike's jaw dropped, looking at the sight
of this 6'4 tall, 230 pound beautiful man turn into a 12 year old boy at the
task of asking Mike out on a date. He was also staring at Mike's stomach,
his eyebrow raised, and a smirk on his beautiful red lips.
	"Wait," Mike thought to himself, "he's asking me out on a DATE?! I look
like SHIT! Plus... what's going on?" Mike then realized that the silence had
grown, and Anderson was looking more uncomfortable by the second. Mike
opened his mouth and spoke. "I'd be really appreciative of that, Detective
Anderson. Take out would be cool- whatever you like." Mike, pleased that he
spoke, only realized what he'd said after the look of relief flooded
Anderson's face, and his own brain finally caught up to his tongue. In his
head, he felt as if his nuts were doing a happy dance, ecstatic that they'd
reached his tongue before his brain had, and therefore set up a "maybe" for
whoopee-making later that night. Anderson suddenly broke out into a grin.
	"I think the nurse said that you'd be let out around 7 this evening, so
I'll be here at that time to pick you up. See you then Mike!" and with that,
he'd bounced... yes, bounced... out of the room, and disappeared, leaving
Mike sitting on the bed, eyes stuck wide open, mouth stuck open, and in a
complete flabber about what had just happened. Nurse Briggs slid back into
the room, and stopped at the sight of Mike's expression.
	"Well what's the matter honey? That gorgeous hunk of man just asked you out
on a date! You should be jumping for joy... well, figuratively, anyway!
What's wrong with you?!" Mike's eyes focused and found her in the room.
	"A date? But... I... I've never been out on a date before... what the hell
did I just do!" And then he looked down, and saw that the boner he'd sprung
at Detective Anderson's asking him out on a date was so clearly visible, he
could see the outline of the head of his cock through the hospital boxers,
robe, and bed sheet. He groaned, realizing that Detective Anderson had
probably seen it, and threw himself back into his bed. That was twice today
that his unruly cock had taken it upon itself to be introduced to Detective
Anderson- what ELSE could happen that night??