This was written by my good friend, Olga Stewart especially for me. She is such a sweetheart!!! Thank you so much, me Mad Lady!!! :) ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Of all the days for Lennie Briscoe to be sick! This was the thought whizzing through Mike Logan's head as he was maneuvering himself along the eternally busy streets of New York. Under other circumstances, Mike would not have been out on his own, driving the police issued car but with Lennie in the hospital and Profaci off for a family reunion (along with Shirley), there was nobody else to 'pal up' with Mike, as the recent glut of cases consumed all of the manpower of the 2-7. What was it about the month of April that brought out all the loonies, in full force? Every year it was the same. And this year, it might have clipped by faster if Lennie had been there to help him. Damn those cannellonis that Profaci had brought to the 2-7, for his going away party, a couple of days before. Normally, Profaci's Mama would have made the culinary treats and sent them along with Profaci. This time, however, Shirley had decided to get in on the act by making them, herself. When the cannellonis were put out, Cragen took one look at them and muttered, "Will these be finding their way to the trash heap?" Mike could only roll his eyes in agreement. Even Tony knew better by staying away from the cannellonis. But not Lennie. He was too much of a a food connoisseur to ever pass up the chance to experiment with his palate. Quite enthusiastically, Lennie reached for a cannelloni despite collective warnings from Profaci, Mike, and Cragen. "Hey, what are you all gabbing about? If you ever had to try my first wife's meatloaf, anything else would be pure heaven, in comparison. It's not like I'm going to be landing in the hospital with this little baby here, huh?" Those were actually quite telling words, on Lennie's part. A couple of hours later, he was in the hospital with food poisoning and it was bad enough to keep him out of commission for a few days. "Great. Could we be any more of a sage with this precinct of ours?", Cragen asked, when he found out the news. "I can only imagine the footworks Profaci's performing trying to get Shirley down to the calm ground.", Mike mused. Ever the cheerful optimist, Lennie piped in with, "Don't know what you guys are worried about. I see quite a few possibilities here for pool partners. That Doris dame brings new meaning to the phrase, 'heal thyself'. Thyself heels at her every command." Cragen took one look at Lennie, who was sitting up in the hospital bed and exploded, as only Cragen could, "What?! It's because of your puppy food paws that we're in the bind we're in." That was enough to stop Lennie's jaw from flapping any more. "Right. Since Profaci's taking off tomorrow and you, Briscoe, are saddled up here, Mike takes on the extra load.", Cragen instructed. "Oh geez, Lennie, why didn't you scarf the whole lot, while you were at it? I could have had Donnie's job.", Mike muttered. "Uh, Mike, keep that tone up and you'll find yourself relegated to desk duty and it could be of a permanent nature. Now quit barking and get to it!", Cragen testily instructed. Both Lennie and Mike knew better than to say anything else. So, Profaci and Shirley took off, as planned, the next day. Lennie was getting along quite famously with Doris, at the hospital. Cragen was storming with the police upper ups. Which left Mike to stew in his own pent up juices. For that whole day, it was slog work galore. Never thinking that he would ever see desk space again, Mike attacked the files with a vigour and persistance that would rival any taxi driver traversing the New York streets. Cragen was so impressed by Mike's output that Mike, the next day, got the call to hit the pavement. Early the next morning, Cragen called Mike into his office and gave him the scoop on the case. "A beating occurred right in front of the Mulder Dance Studio over there on 24th. Some ding dong was going for a woman's purse and he got the business end of her fists. Seems this lady has had quite a few training rounds with the punching bag. The perp got it good to the face and the stomach. And it turns out that there was a witness to this party. A girl, dancer, actually. Name's Brenda *******. She was going in for her usual dance practice do this morning and came across the latest ROCKY sequel. She put in the call whil the other lady kept the turkey under secure means." Mike was chewing his gum and was trying to figure out how long it would be before termites finally did in Cragen's office. The sound of the file slapping down on Cragen's desk brought Mike back to reality. "Something you wanted, Donnie?", Mike nonchantlantly asked with that devilish grin on his face. "Yeah, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and your undivided attention, Mike. Course, seeing that you were such an eager beaver with all those files yesterday, we could keep you very occupied today, if we need to.", Cragen pointed out. "Uh, where did you say this dance studio was, again"?, Mike casually asked. So, there Mike was driving along the street, with his black Irish temper carrying him through, body and soul. At one point, an old man almost got the 'bird' from Logan when Mike passed out of the man's pedestrian area and into the speed merchants lane. The man was too busy keeping the steering wheel steady to even notice or care that Mike was in a foul mood. About fifteen minutes later, Logan turned onto 24th Avenue, with practically two of the car's wheels gliding in the air. He quite politely parked in front of the studio and this meant that a nearby garbage can just about got tossed into the middle of the sidewalk. The car door opened and out stepped an agitated Logan. There was a doorman at the entrance of the studio. He took one look at Mike's angry face to know that it would be very prudent to let his hands do the the talking. This train of thinking, on the doorman's part, was solidified when Mike just about poked the man's eyes out with his police badge. Getting through the front door was the least of Mike's worries. Trying to find the dance studio that this Brenda so and so dame was in was the next bloody obstacle to get through. "Gee, Donnie, decided to send me on a wild goose chase, now didn't you?", Mike stormed to himself. Suddenly, he heard music reverbating through the walls. Big band music. Lennie would have known what this was, in a heartbeat. However, Mike had had enough 'training' from Lennie to be able to make educated guesses at these songs. Stopping for a moment, those ears of his focused intently on the music. After a few seconds, he had it. It was "Sing, Sing, Sing (With A Swing)" by Benny Goodman. And by the sounds of it, it was near the end of the tune. Somehow, the music drained all the anger out of Mike. He slipped easily into his Logan swagger and cruised to the source of the music: Room N 13. Mike slowly opened the door and stepped quietly into a cavern of a dance studio. It was lit sparsely but the big and long windows, along one side of the room, more than made up for that. At the far end of the room was a long series of mirrors covering the wall. Over in the left corner of the room was a tape deck, from which the music was booming. But it was the woman, on that dance floor, that completely stopped Mike in his tracks. The legs were the first thing he noticed. Her legs were long, sleek, toned, and shapely. The blackness of her stockings further emphasized the alluring qualities of those legs. On her feet, she wore black shiny tap shoes. He imagined what it would be like to take those shoes off and to start caressing her feet. But he didn't let his thoughts linger there too much as he wanted to take in the the sight of the rest of her. Next up was the kilt and it was of his tartan, the Logan. The tie she was wearing, as well as the ribbons holding her pigtails together, were of the same tartan. He was utterly awed by the sight of his tartan looking so natural and gorgeous on this woman. Lastly, there was the white man's dress shirt, tucked into the kilt. Her tiny waist was shown off to its best advantage. She also, despite the thinness of her frame, had subtle curves that were making his mind go dizzy with infatuation. The music ended and the woman skipped over to the tape deck. She took out that tape and put in aNOTHer. She ran back to a position near the centre of the dance floor. Mike decided to slip back into the shadows and watch. Music came floating out of the tape deck and this time, it was Celtic music. This was something he was more in key with. The music was spirited, lively, feisty, and infectious. Not to mention the lady dancing to it. Those feet of hers really tore up the floor, calling further attention to those glorious gams of hers. As he was listening to the music and watching this intoxicating sight in front of him, Mike was trying to place the tune. Aha! He had it! A few weeks ago, during some downtime on the midnight shift, Mike had been flipping through the arts section of the TIMES. He came across an article on the Irish tap dance show, LORD OF THE DANCE. Typical male that Mike was, he was fairly interested in the 'ladies of the dance'. Then, later on, he heard this song at THE BLUE WALL. Casey, the barkeep, told him that it was called the "Cry of the Celts". Coming back to the present moment, Mike was transfixed by this 'Lady of the Dance'. Her whole body became one with the music and the joy came from her heart and sparked a bewitching fire in her eyes. Man, but she was a fiery temptation of an Irish princess. Silently, to himself, Mike was blessing Cragen for this. But just as soon as the music began, it ended and all too soon for Mike. Now what was he to do? He was absolutely dumbstruck with awe. Meanwhile, the lady trotted over to the tape deck, turned it off, turned around, and slinked directly over to where Mike was standing. "Damn, she's good.", Mike thought, in admiration. "Hello. I'm presuming that you're the police detective that Captain Cragen was sending over. Detective Logan, right?", a melodious voice intoned in Mike's direction. Mike could only manage an 'um'. "Oh my,", Brenda thought to herself, "this will go easy, huh?" She took a good look at the man standing in front of her. Tannish brown leather jacket reaching to his mid-thigh, dark blue suit, light blue shirt, a black, red, and blue plaid tie, and shiny soft raven hair, falling perfectly wavy atop his head with a cheekay tendril saucily hugging his forehead. His eyes were of a hazel-gray tinge and he looked to be over six feet. Even his beak nose set off his face perfectly. Well, that was that. Brenda was hooked. Looking into those sweet tortured eyes of his got her right in the bone. She tried to wonder what it would be like to help him bring a happy light into those eyes. However, it was his eyes, that she felt were his most beautiful part. Mike's tongue was still just about stuck to the roof of his mouth. "Why the hell can't I talk to this woman?", he thought to himself. Now, of course, she was luring his senses on, even more, with those captivating eyes of hers. They were of a baby blue that pierced his soul with both their innocence and desire. And her hair was like a golden halo. When she untied her hair ribbons and let her hair tumble naturally and sexily over and past her shoulders, he was completely and utterly lost. She was an angel with the touch of the devil in her. Moments shared between Mike's and Brenda's eyes almost turned into minutes. It might have continued on that way if Lennie had not waltzed into the room. "Kids, we've got some business to take care of. Mikey, you ready?", Lennie asked. Mike still was staring at Brenda, as she was, at him. Lennie knew all about this drill but had never been a witness to, in the presence of Mike. Yet, as nice as this picture was, Lennie knew there was a purpose to be accomplished. So, he whispered into Mike's ear about letting him take over. Mike was reluctant to leave but it was only when Lennie just about flung him out of the room, that Mike got the message. Brenda was disappointed, too. She wanted to be as close to this 'Mikey' for as long as possible. And Mike wanted to be around her even more than that. Nevertheless, their desires would have to wait until aNOTHer time as there was a case to be closed up. THE END (?)