There Goes The Bride

Chapter One: Sergeant Emily

Chapter One:

Rolling onto her side, Emily's back felt a draft of cold air where the feeling of a warm body should have been. Opening her eyes, she saw James - her boyfriend, getting out of the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

"No," She whined to herself, "I just need ten more minutes." Emily knew she would have to get up eventually to prepare for work, but instead of leaving the warm sheets she decided to cling them to her body while dropping her head into her pillow once more. Unfortunately, the warmth the bed provided was no longer surrounding her when a pair of long arms pulled her out from under the safety of the blankets.

Emily cried out in surprise, wrapping her arms instinctively around James's neck. "Put me down!" She yelled, closing her eyes. Although it was a drastic measure, she applauded her boyfriend for risking his own health from her flailing limbs, just to make sure she was up and alive this morning.

James laughed, carrying her effortlessly towards the small apartment bathroom. He closed the door with his foot before setting her on the sink. He smiled at her unwelcoming expression, trailing his fingers down her cheek while skillfully maneuvering his lips to her neck. "Come on," He mumbled against her skin. "You can't stay mad at me forever."

"I can and I will." She grumbled, ignoring the havoc he was creating inside the pit of her stomach. She could feel the tingling sensation creep it's way throughout her body and she was too stubborn to let him win her over, no matter how silly the argument was. The truth of the matter, is that she did need this. She should have already begun her shower in her morning preparations, if she was on her normal, routinely schedule. Emily sighed, letting her angry demeanor fall before running her fingers through James's inky, black locks of hair. "You win this time, but if you don't prepare me breakfast you better expect world war three to make it's way into our home."

James could only laugh before placing a brief kiss on her lips, knowing fully well that she was being serious. And since he had no desire to have his clothes thrown about the floors, or to find his working notes swimming among the fish in their fish tank, James set off to do exactly as she asked. "You got it, sergeant Emily!" With a lame salute to follow, James left Emily to prepare herself.

As Emily emerged from the steaming bathroom, she padded across the floor to her dresser where she grabbed a pencil skirt and matching blouse. It took her about ten minutes, thanks to her slippery feet, but she was already making her way into the kitchen when she smelt the delicious scent of eggs and bacon.

James was leaning over the stove, flipping a few pieces of meat in the frying pan. And he did so, Emily mused, with an air of complete elegance and hotness. He was only wearing a towel, which was wrapped snugly around his hips and Emily couldn't help but catch her herself before she had the urge to tug on it. Shaking the thoughts of out her mind, since it was far too early to start something like that, Emily wolf-whistled once with a smirk on her face as she seated herself near the kitchen island in the center of the room.  "Hey good lookin', what's cookin'?"

"Ha ha," James replied sarcastically, smiling at her over his shoulder. "I was just whipping us up some eggs with bacon and sausage for breakfast -- your favorite meal of the day." After turning off the stove when the meat was done, James brought the pan over to the two plates placed on the counter. The eggs were already steaming on the glass plate, while the meat was being equally distributed. "Where are those sexy shoes of yours?"

"Probably somewhere in hell," Emily mumbled under her breath. Naturally her boyfriend would think those death-contraptions were alluring. They seemed to enhance the length of her legs and he'd always beg her to walk around in them in her underwear. But she hated them with a passion, in fact, the only thing she hated about her job was having to wear the five-inch pumps all day long. While she would much rather be comfortable in a t-shirt, faded jeans and sneakers, it was her duty to look the professional part and wear all the classy fabrics she could find. That included the deadly heels that were awaiting her in her bedroom.