17. How could a piece of technology thwart me? #3
Why was Quinn giggling? What were they looking at on Perky’s phone?
I frowned, circled their table, and peeked over Quinn’s shoulder.
A video of a kitten playing with a scrap of paper enthralled the three men.
Narrowing my eyes, I twisted around to get a good look at the cafeteria, homing in on the cafe portion.
A stamp featuring a pixie marked the upper left corner of the sign.
“I leave for half an hour, and you three get high on pixie dust?”
A chorus of giggles answered me, even from the older cop. My husband flashed me his best smile. “You slipped off while I was working. You only have yourself to blame.”
I eliminated a light dusting of C-grade dust as the culprit; it put Quinn in a better mood but didn’t change his base personality.
A full dose of C-grade made him more likely to smile and take it easy on those around him.
I had found the change disconcerting enough I hadn’t wanted to give him B or better.
“You shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to your phone, then.
” Would Quinn turn out to be one of those who people were determined to make everyone around him as happy as he was?
If B or better turned him into a giggling, kitten adoring mess, what would A+++ do to him?
My curiosity would lead us to a dark—and sexy—place.
I’d need a lot of neutralizer before I experimented with felony-level drug administration on my husband. “Can we go home?”
Quinn leaned back in his chair so his head rested against my stomach. “Yes, we can leave. Up for driving the rest of the way? We can work if you’re driving.”
Oh boy. Three cops high on pixie dust trying to do serious work would likely lead to hilarity at the station later. Hilarity I hoped I would get to watch. “Seems fair since I slept on the way to Richmond. I might stink the station out if I don’t get a shower, though.”
The smoldering look my husband shot me made me want to drag him somewhere semi-private. “I can help—”
Nilman jabbed Quinn in the ribs with his elbow. “No, sir. You can’t help her.”
“But—”
Perky joined in, slapping Quinn upside the head. “No.”
Kitten video forgotten, the three degenerated to elbow jabs, finger pointing, and kicks under the table, giggling the entire time.
I opened my mouth, snapped my teeth together with a clack, and waited.
Waiting didn’t change anything. I suspected they had rules to their odd brawl.
They remained seated, their faces were off-limits, and they seemed intent on some goal.
It took me a few minutes to determine they were trying to tickle each other and failing miserably at it.
I checked their coffee cups to discover them empty.
Leaving the men to their play fight, I disposed of the cups, headed for the cafe, and dug out my CDC identification card, holding it out to the young woman at the counter.
“I’m the responsible adult driving the three idiot cops home. What grade did they take?”
The barista chuckled, looked over my card, and handed it back to me. “A+, ma’am. A gentleman was in here earlier and paid for their coffee, asking me to dust their drinks.”
Considering one of Quinn’s grandfathers was upstairs, I had my suspicions. “Did the gentleman happen to lack a head?”
She grinned, put her finger to her lips, and nodded.
Damned angels. “Thanks. I’ll make sure they make it home without menacing someone.”
“They’ve been very well behaved.”
I cast a doubtful look at the three men engaged in a tickle battle. “Well, they’re very happy now, that’s for sure.”
“The pretty one was very anxious after you left. He needed a little liquid joy.”
Good old pixie dust, controller of depression, easer of anxiety, tester of patience. “Good to know. Thanks. Have yourself a good day.”
I returned to the table and sighed. “Come on, then. I need to get you three to work.” Would the dust wear off in time?
If it didn’t, what would I tell the other cops at the station?
The complaints would come in early and often.
A slightly happy Quinn unnerved me. A giggling one skewed my perception of reality and stirred all sorts of bad thoughts.
If I ditched Perky and Nilman, I’d regret it sometime after I got Quinn somewhere alone.
They ignored me. I made a mental note to suggest the CDC classify A+ pixie dust as a controlled substance rather than a devilishly expensive one. Then again, I knew how much Sylvester had paid to make my life interesting.
“Worth it,” the angel murmured in my ear.
Too startled to scream, I whirled around. “You!”
“Indeed.”
“Why would you do this to me?” I pointed at the three men who were oblivious an angel had just popped into existence nearby.
“How could I watch my precious grandson mope when you left without him? He needed to stop whining, so I bought them coffee. I may have whispered a few suggestions to his friend to convince him they really needed a refill of coffee while they waited.”
“You poured several hundred dollars worth of pixie dust down their throats to stop Quinn from whining?”
“Consider it part of my wedding gift to you.”
“Your wedding gift is giving me three punch drunk men to babysit?”
“One of them will provide you with certain amusements in due time. He was sulking. I couldn’t just let him sulk while you dealt with business.”
“That really doesn’t explain why Perky and Nilman are so, so happy right now.”
“My little grandson needed someone to play with.”
“I left them alone for maybe an hour. They would have survived.” I sighed, hung my head, and willed myself to have patience.
“A man shouldn’t be sad on his wedding day.”
“I’ll remember this, Sylvester,” I promised.
“You are so entertaining.” The angel fled in a burst of golden light, probably to avoid my wrath. Sneaky, wicked angel.
Unless I intervened, I doubted the three cops would leave the cafeteria, happy to play like children while being amused by the smallest things. “All right, you three. It’s time to go.”
Quinn flashed his panty-igniting smile in my direction. “Hi, beautiful.”
Okay. Maybe I could find a few minutes to drag him into a stairwell first. No one would notice, except the security guys monitoring the cameras. Damn it. “If you don’t get in the car, I can’t take you home, Quinn.”
While pixie dust could short circuit someone in a hurry, it didn’t completely remove their ability to reason and connect the dots.
Quinn moved fast when he wanted to and was halfway to the door before I realized he had left his phone and wallet on the table.
I gathered his belongings while Perky cracked up laughing.
“I think he wants to go home for some reason. I wonder why that might be.”
Men. “In reality, he’s going to work so he can pester everyone at the station.”
“That’s funny.”
“You’re going to work, too.”
“Work sounds like fun. Let’s go to work, Nilman!”
The pair jumped to their feet and hurried after Quinn, leaving their phones and wallets behind, too. I sighed, gathered their things, and checked the seats and floor for anything else they had dropped during their playful excitement.
Maybe I wouldn’t give Quinn the good stuff after all. I considered hunting down some neutralizer to restore the men to sanity. I sighed and gave up. Who was I to ruin their harmless fun?