920. Chapter 920

After Cool Boys

Episode 8.06

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: It's season eight. What do you think? Rating: K Time: See above.

Author's note: This is a sequel to chapter 726 which introduced Nikki Heat's sister, Mikki Heat.

Author's further note: I know my stories don't always show up on the Fanfic board, so if you haven't seen it and you want to read I, Spy. go to s/12273218/1/I-Spy

The second chapter will be up tomorrow.

Ruggedly handsome, two time Pulitzer Prize winning investigative journalist, Jameson Rook walked into his wife's office and saw her bending over her desk, her perfect ass just begging to be squeezed. He was never a man to refuse any part of a woman's anatomy that was begging. He goosed Nikki, hard.

The woman whipped around and Rook saw that he had made a horrible mistake.

"Mikki! It's you, not Nikki!" Remembering how she had beaten him up for grabbing her boobs when in a similar situation, Rook hastily back pedaled and prepared for the worst. "Please don't hurt me." He whimpered.

Mikki smiled at him. "Rookie, why would I hurt you? It was an accident, I'm sure and you are family, after all. "Mikki reached for him and Rook prepared to die. His life flashed before his eyes, even though they were tightly closed. To his surprise Mikki Heat kissed him lightly on his cheek.

"Good to see you again, Rookie. You did a great job on that last case you and my sister worked for me."

"Mikki?" Nikki said, coming into her office. "What are you doing here?"

"She's not going to kill me." Rook babbled.

"Excuse me? If anyone is going to kill Rook, it's going to be me and his death will be in our bed. What happened?"

"Nothing at all, Nikki. Rookie here just grabbed my ass, thinking it was yours. No problem."

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" Nikki asked suspiciously.

"Nikki, I have a little problem. I've left the DOJ's Combined Literary Interagency Taskforce. It really wasn't my style."

Nikki raised an eyebrow. "So the rumors that you were kicked off of CLIT aren't true?"

Mikki grimaced. "I prefer to say we agreed to an amicable parting of the ways. I now work for the Temporary Worldwide Analysis Team."

"Catchy acronym." Said Rook, gaining some courage back.

Mikki managed a smile at Rook and Nikki. "I've run into a small problem, and I need help from you and Rook."

"What kind of help?" Nikki asked, even more suspiciously.

"We've contracted with a group of brilliant tech nerds for a computer chip that will revolutionize data gathering and analysis. It's invaluable, but there's been a theft at WMTHS, that's the company we hired."

"WMTHS?" Cried Rook. "That's short for William M. Tweed High School. That's the toughest high school in the city. The teachers teach by remote access. But really, the auto shop makes getaway cars, the chem lab cooks meth, and the physics class makes explosives."

Mikki shrugged. "Youthful high spirits?" She suggested.

Nikki shook her head. "I'm not letting Rook get involved in this. It's too dangerous. Forget it."

Mikki sighed dramatically. "You're right, of course. It's far too dangerous for a civilian like Rookie to get involved in. See you later, Sis."

Fifteen minutes later, having made an excuse to Nikki about needing to work on his latest article about whether or not there should be a section in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for groupies, Rook ran out of the 20th Precinct and looked for Mikki.

"Looking for a good time, Big Boy?" Asked a seductive voice. "I knew that as soon as Nikki said it was too dangerous, you'd want to come along."

He turned and his jaw dropped. In place of the standard drab Federal issue business pantsuit, white blouse and conservative tie, Nikki was wearing a mini-dress and shoes with stiletto heels. It looked to Rook like Mikki wasn't wearing anything underneath the dress.

"I'm going undercover, Rookie. So you'll have to change as well. You can undress and dress in this phone booth. I promise I won't peek."

Rook hated to think that an employee of the Federal Government might lie to a reporter, so he quickly went into the phone booth to change. He did wonder where the wolf whistles were coming from, though.

But Rook stepped out of the phone booth dressed in biker boots, oil stained jeans, a Harley-Davidson tee shirt and a leather jacket with the words "Syrian War Criminals Motorcycle Club" on the back.

Mikki completed his outfit my giving him a doo rag with Bashar al Assad's picture on it. "As I recall, you do speak Arabic from your time in the Middle East?"

Rook nodded, failing to mention that all he had memorized was the phrase, "Please don't kill me for being an American reporter."

Mikki hopped onto a chopped Harley and told Rook to get on the back. Regrettably her lack of underwear caused drivers in the oncoming lane to lose control of their vehicles. The traffic jam went on for miles.

Arriving at William M. Tweed High School, Mikki jumped her Harley over the wall around the school, narrowly missing the razor wire atop the wall.

"Why do they want to keep people out of here?" Rook asked.

"The wall is there to keep the students from escaping. It doesn't do any good. The school's aviation club has built aircraft to get students in and out. I hear the Air Force is negotiating for some of their cruise missiles. Oh, and the Future Engineers of America has dug tunnels under the wall."

After having their passports stamped at immigration, they entered the high school. Rook listened intently to the conversations of America's future leaders.

"Jeez, Tammie. I only got a C in my forgery class. How can I ever forge my mom's signature to an absence slip if all I can get is a C?"

Her friend commiserated. "Major bummer, Trudy. If you think you have problems, let me tell you how my mugging class went….."

They passed two young men who were surprisingly dressed in very conservative suits and ties. "George, the absolutely most important thing about a Ponzi scheme is knowing when to take the money and run."

"Oh, I love that movie." George said.

Rook shuddered and followed Mikki down the hall to the offices of WMTHS. A young girl smiled as they walked in. "Good afternoon may I help you?"

"Roxie and Abdul to see Mr. Smith."

"Which Mr. Smith would that be? All of the partners are named Smith."

"Mr. Smith, the president of the company."

"Certainly. Go right in."

Inside was a group of classic high school nerds, dressed in baggy khakis, plaid shirts and all staring at their phones.

"Mr. Smith? Were Roxie and Abdul. We're here about the theft of the computer chip?"

"Glad to finally meet you, Special Agent Heat and Mr. Rook. I'm afraid though that the chip hasn't exactly been stolen."

"What exactly has happened to it?" Mikki asked.

"It's been ….repurposed, so to speak."

"Repurposed how?"

"It's the answer to every high school nerd's dream. We used it to get live feed from the girls' locker room." He held up his phone so that Mikki and Rook could see. Rook quickly closed his eyes, afraid Nikki might find out.

"What about our deal?" Mikki demanded.

Mr. Smith held out a small plastic case. "We worked all night. The locker room is unoccupied at night. We made a second chip. Are we good?"

Mikki nodded. "We're good."

Mikki drove Rook back to the 20th Precinct and walked in with him.

"We got what we wanted, Nikki." She said to her sister.

"You did?"

"Not quite everything." Mikki said, throwing her arms around Rook and kissing him passionately while grinding her body against his.

Nikki punched her sister as hard as she could, sending Mikki to the floor in a daze.

She grabbed her husband and pulled him to the elevator. "Come on, Rook."

"Where are we going?"

"Home. I'm going to see if I can kill you. Oh, don't worry. You'll love it."