Labor
by the Chronicler

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Perfect Tommy was bored. Bored senseless. Bored out of his mind. Bored witless. Head-banging- against-the-wall bored. Breath-deafening bored. The living dead bored. The imagining-passer-
byers-in-their-underware-not-working bored. Not-even-gorgouse-women-working bored... and that meant BORED! Bored, bored, bored, bored....

How many possible ways can one actually state bored before he figured it out: B! O! R! E! D! Boooooooored!

He jumped to his feet and started down the hall.

"Perfect Tommy." Rawhide mumbled from where he lounged two chairs down from his own, long legs stretched out before him, arms crossed over his chest, stetson tilted over his eyes as if he had been napping. "Where do you think you're going?"

Reno Nevada looked up from his laptop to see what was going on. One glance assured him that, though not great, everything was normal: Perfect Tommy was bored, thus off to find himself some trouble; Rawhide, knowing he was going to fail anyway, making half an attempt to stop him. With a shake of his head, he turned back to his article.

"I'm bored." Perfect Tommy complained.

"Take a nap." Rawhide suggested, wanting nothing more than for the youngest Cavalier to sit back down and behave so he could get back to his own dozing.

"Humph!" Tommy snorted. "Naps are for babies and old m..." he stopped in mid word.

Reno glanced up sharply.

Rawhide slowly, very precisely, reached up and pushed his hat back on his head with a thumb. His eyes narrowed. "Old what?" he growled.

Perfect Tommy turned to Reno, searching for a save.

But the writer simply chuckled and turned back to his laptop.

With a groan he unsuccessfully suppressed, Perfect Tommy turned to face Rawhide. "I didn't mean you, big guy. Cowboys do a lot of napping too." He smiled slightly. "Kinda explains country music, don't you think?"

A bark of laughter from Reno who continued to type away.

Apparently satisfied that the few seconds of fear in the young man's eyes were enough for the near-comment on his age, Rawhide leaned back, tilted his stetson back in place over his eyes, and snuggled back in his seat. "Sit down, boy." he ordered.

"I'm not tired. I don't want to take a nap." the youngster insisted. "I am bored!" He waved his hands in the air frantically. "THIS is boring!"

"This is a courthouse." Rawhide pointed out. "It was not designed for a good time."

"Yea, well, that there is another thing." Tommy shook a finger at him. "I am not exactly COMFORTABLE in this sort of environment." He smiled his sweetest as a police officer escorting a prisoner walked by.

Again, Reno chuckled. "A little too familiar?"

Perfect Tommy threw him the dirtiest look he could muster.

Rawhide sighed loudly. "Sit down, Perfect Tommy. Take a nap, read a magazine, throw pencils at the ceiling, write on the walls, mentally undress the women that walk by.... I don't care. Just don't get into trouble, don't pester the locals, and do not get arrested!" he ordered.

The Cavalier dropped his chin to his chest in a pout. Back to ass numbing boredom. Brain freezing boredom. Living dead boredom. Anti-caffiene boredom. Desperate-enough-to-even-read...

"Caffeine." Perfect Tommy grinned, mischief igniting a spark of hope. Quickly wiping the expression away, he asked "can I at least go get a cup of coffee?"

Reno glanced up for a third time. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

But Rawhide just wanted to get back to his nap. "Be quick. Buckaroo will done with his depiction any time now. When they call next, you better be here and ready."

Reno sighed, He turned back to his work.

Perfect Tommy grinned. He turned and started down the hall.

"Perfect Tommy," Rawhide stopped him. "Down the hall, to the left. Go there, come right back!"

The young man threw him a salute then headed down the hall.

A moment after the sound of Tommy's footfalls had faded, Rawhide asked. "He turned right instead of left, didn't he?"

Neither Rawhide nor Reno needed to watch to know.

Not bothering to look up, Reno nodded. "Did you expect anything else?"

"Nope." Rawhide yawned.

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The Cavalier looked left.

Court room 4A, 4B, 4C....

The Cavalier looked right.

Court room 4H, 4I, 4J...

The Cavalier looked forward.

Office this, office that...

And an elevator!

If he couldn't do anything else, at least he could go joy riding on the elevator. He frowned. 'Course there were only eight floors... but, hey, eight floors in a courthouse was bound to open up on some interesting scenes. Perfect Tommy knew all about interesting scenes in joints like this. He, himself, had caused plenty.

So, off to the elevator he went.

Perfect Tommy pushed every button he could find in the elevator. Then he began to look for the not so obvious buttons.

He was contemplating climbing through the ceiling hatch when the door opened and a woman stepped in.

Perfect Tommy smiled.

Now, she was something to look at: shiny, wavy, super model blond hair; pale green eyes that sparkled with their own little light; perfect porcelain skin; high cheek bones masterfully detailed with blush; an ever so slightly turned up nose; plump, pouty, deep red lips; a long, elegant neck; smooth, suntanned (though not too dark) shoulders; large, firm, perfectly matched breasts; and a figure to...

"Christ!" The Cavalier suddenly cried, jumping back against the far wall. "You're pregnant!"

The woman glanced back at him, amusement sparking in dangerously green eyes. "Thanks for noticing."

Damn, damn, damn, damn.... Green eyes! He should of known! Green eyes always get him in trouble.

The woman grinned, patting her bulging stomach. "But not for long."

"WHAT?" P.T. panicked.

She laughed. "I'm going to the hospital to have labor enduced. This kid's been kickin' my bladder for two weeks too long now. Time to get him out!" she laughed. "But don't you worry. I have no intentions of having my baby in an elevator in a court house with a stranger, no matter how cute, playing midwife, and not a pain killer in sight."

Perfect Tommy relaxed, but only slightly. "Thanks. I appreciate that."

Again the woman laughed. After a moment and a couple more door open and closes, she frowned at the button pad. Nearly every one was lit up. She glanced at the young man.

Sheepishly, Perfect Tommy shrugged. "Kids. You just missed the little rat... rascal. Honest!"

The woman smiled once more. "I said cute. Not honest looking."