(Not So) Secret Admirer

Surprise Visit

Linda awoke the next morning, the sun shining through the curtains. She smiled as she rubbed her eye, sitting up. She felt the covers pull, and wondered what was restraining them. She looked down and smiled, seeing her bodyguard atop the pink covers. She studied him for a few minutes; the way his hand lazily rested on his stomach; his soft, yet somehow soothing, snores; the way his bare chest rose and fell steadily.
Linda licked her lips, then shook her head. I gotta get outta here. She slipped from the bed and into the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and tied her hair into a lazy bun. She walked out to the main room of the apartment, intending to head straight for the coffee pot. A week of living with her cop friend let her learn some of his habits. One of those habits was how he lived on coffee. Straight, hot, black coffee was his preference, and Linda was more than happy to oblige.
The doorbell rang, drawing the blonde's attention away from the percolating pot.
"Mother!" Linda's eyes went wide as she saw her Mom standing at the doorway.
"I was in the neighborhood, and I thought, 'I wonder how Linda's doing'." She pushed her way past her daughter. "So I came over. How're you doing?"
Linda's eyes darted to the bedroom where her friend was currently sleeping. "Listen, Mother, as much as I love our visits, I, uh.... I'm kinda busy right now."
"Nonsense! You can't be too busy for your own mother!"
She chewed her lip, and almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the shower start.
"Oh, is Brie back already? I can't possibly leave until I say hi to your lovely friend!"
She looked around, hoping her mother wouldn't find any evidence of a male in her apartment. She knew the apartment was a crime scene, so she also hoped that no evidence was.... evident. As if an answer could be found in the kitchen, she spoke up. "Mom! I'm making some coffee. Would you like some?"
"Are you still drinking that awful stuff? You know it's bad for your health, dear."
"Yeah, if you're going through eighteen cups a day. One or two cups aren't going to kill you."
"Still, I never touch the stuff!"
Inwardly, Linda growled. She closed her eyes, pushing down the want to yell at her mother. "I've got orange juice and milk. Do you want any of those? Maybe just water?"
"I'm good." Ms. O'Shea, Marni, watched her daughter look to the bedroom door and cross her arms. Her T-shirt rose up, exposing just enough of her underwear, "honey, why don't you wear real pajamas?"
"Pajamas are anything you make 'em to be. Listen, mother," Linda pulled her up from the sofa, which wasn't in bed-form anymore. Danny must've fixed it over night after she fell asleep. Or maybe he was anticipating staying by her side, and put it away before he came to check on her? "I'm really busy. So, uh, you gotta go."
"Linda, dear, what is the rush?"
"You're outta soap, Linda." Danny came walking in, holding up the empty bottle of soap. He was already dressed in jeans and a red (agonizingly tight) shirt, almost ready for the day.
"Who is that?" Marni all but growled.
Linda closed her eyes; why, oh, why was her mother so stubborn? Why did she have to pick today to stop by? "Uh, Mom. I've got something to tell you."
Marni glared at Danny, pushing past her daughter. "You knocked her up!"