She could tell that Little was going to give her trouble. The minute she’d showed up with that look in her eye, Sandy knew it was a problem. “Hands where I can see them, Officer Little.”

Susan smiled a small, but sly smile and spread both hands on the counter.

Sandy gave her a dubious look from the opposite side. Little was going to play it coy, she could see that. She approached the counter and placed the steaming, freshly baked tray of cookies on the surface and began to remove them to the cooling rack. “Not one. You hear me?”

Little nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the cookies.

“Little?”

No response.

“Little, look at me.” Reluctantly, Little raised her eyes and met Sandy’s glare. “You want one of these you’re going to have to go through me to get it. You understand?”

Little narrowed her eyes. She’d been tortured to the edge of her limits by the smells wafting through the house for the last half hour. Sandy had many skills. One of them was baking. Baking cookies that’d damn near bring a grown and hardened cop to her knees. She wasn’t quite there yet, but she was sure she would be if Sandy got it in her mind to put her there.

And all of this culinary torture was for Sandy’s nephew Max’s birthday the next day. Life was cruel. Little was a sucker for anything sugar. Hot, melted chocolate turned her into something altogether different. Sandy seemed to enjoy taking advantage of this quirky happenstance.

“Hard, isn’t it?” Sandy asked. “All of this melted, running chocolate in here, and none of it for you. I told you to go for a run until I was finished. I warned you. Look at you - you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself are you?”

Little shook her head in a way she hoped would garner a bit of sympathy from Sandy (a woman notorious for never giving an inch). She’d told Little that she was making two dozen cookies for Max’s party and that was exactly the number that would be leaving in the tin the following day. If it cost Little every finger on both hands. Sandy was pretty strict.

“You’re suffering, poor thing. You want it so badly.” Anyone who didn’t know Sandy well, would have mistaken her tone for sympathetic.

Little nodded.

“You’re fairly sweating.”

Little nodded again, curtly this time. Hoping that if she was able to muster a show of indifference she might be able to trick Sandy into a false sense of security. If Sandy dropped her guard, it would only take Little a half of a second to snatch one of the cookies that was closest to her. Sandy would still be able to whack her with the spatula at that range, but it would be worth it. One glance at Sandy, however, and it was clear that this new strategy would be about as successful as the last one, which is to say, not at all. She sighed and returned her gaze to the tray of cookies.

Sandy watched Little’s eyes track back to the cookies and sensed that the moment she’d been waiting for since Little sat down was at hand.

“They’re still hot.” Sandy waved her hand over the steaming temptation. “You’d like these. I used the broken bittersweet chunks this time see?”

Little nodded, but kept watching the cookies intently - because you never knew, one might just get the idea to jump off the tray into your mouth - you could never be too sure about that kind of thing. Little’s intense scrutiny was interrupted when Sandy dipped a finger into a particularly melted pool of chocolate on one of the cookies. “I know how much you like it when it’s melted.”

Little took this gesture as an invitation, she stood and reached across the counter.

“Ah, ah!” Sandy batted Little’s hand away. “I’m not letting you touch one of these until I’m sure you’re not armed. For all I know, after one, you’ll go after the whole batch. You’ve done it before. Sit.” Little did, but in that way that said she was only biding her time (a woman could only take so much).

Sandy rounded the island and stepped around Little, so that she was standing behind her. “Are you armed?” She frisked Little until she was satisfied that the only thing the woman had on beneath her jeans and t-shirt, were a pair of underpants and a bra. Sandy leaned forward and whispered in a thoroughly desparate Little’s ear. “You look like a dangerous character - are you going to be cooperative?”

There was a pause and a couple of heavy breaths, before Little answered. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how many cookies I get.”

Sandy swiveled Little around to face her and stepped between her legs. When Little tried to crane her neck back around to look at the cookies again, Sandy guided her head back around until she’d regained eye contact. “Susan, when I say cooperative, I mean it.”

Little's nostrils flared, then twitched. But she nodded her head. When Sandy used her given name, she was playing for keeps.

“All right then.” Sandy smiled, stepping closer. She was satisfied that she had Little’s attention. “There's a load of laundry in the hamper and the plants need watering. I give you some cookies, I want this stuff finished before we leave for dinner at Vera and Jane's.”

Little's left eyebrow quirked upward, but she didn't argue, she nodded. Then looked back at the cookies.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Sandy turned Little back to face her again and planted a purposeful kiss on her lips.

Little understood Sandy’s additional condition and responded readily, yet she needed clarification on an important point. She broke the kiss just long enough to ask, “Before or after the cookies?”

Sandy thought it over as she unfastened the buttons on Little’s shirtfront. She decided that she didn't want Little distracted during her chores, “Have one now. More later.”

“Smart lady.” Little pulled Sandy in for another kiss, then she wrapped her legs around Sandy's to keep her put. Leaning back around, she claimed her prize (having previously cased out the batch, she knew exactly which one she was going for first).

“I made sure there was one with extra chunks, I figured you'd take that one.” Sandy noted as she eased Little’s shirt off of her shoulders.

“I thought these were for Max?”

“The next batch is for Max.” Sandy smiled.

“This whole thing was a set up!” Little accused.

“And you fell for it - hook, line, and sinker. Honestly Little, you're too easy.”

“Think so?” Little asked.

“I know so.” Sandy smirked.

Little shrugged. She held the cookie beneath her nose, savoring the rich aroma of the warm bit of perfection. She took a nibble and groaned. She closed her eyes, enjoying the full effect of the confectionary revelation taking place in her mouth. It sent a tingle right through her body. This sensation was pleasantly complimented by the one Sandy's tightened grip on her thighs had inspired.

She took another nibble, this one followed by a louder groan and deliberate licking of her lips.

The pressure on her thighs doubled and she felt Sandy's hips begin a gentle rocking motion.

Little eased her eyes open. If the smile on her face could have gotten any wider it would have. Sandy's eyes were riveted to her mouth, her pupils were dilated and a light sweat had broken out over her skin.

“Who’s easy now?” Little asked.

“Finish the damn cookie, Susan.” Curiously, Sandy was no longer in the mood for games.

Little placed the remaining half of the cookie on the counter and nudged Sandy closer.

“Later.” She smiled.

It was the last coherent word either one spoke for hours.