I read the writing on the wall as I tapped my foot nervously on the dingy tiled floor of the coffee shop bathroom. I'd always hated public restrooms, especially filthy ones, and this one was no exception. The appley odor of the air freshner combined with the stench that typically radiated from public toilets was turning my stomach and try as I might to breathe through my mouth and hope the feeling passed, I was quickly losing the battle. I stared down at my watch for about the hundredth time and sighed... three more minutes. Time seemed to be standing still for me on purpose this morning, or at the very least it was crawling slower than it ever had before.

"I 'heart' Philip! -- Rhonda and Philip forever!"

"Philip SUX"

I sat there a while longer and studied the writings. I'd never quite understood the need to scrawl out personal information on the back of a stall wall for all of creation to read. Apparently I was in the minority though because it seemed that everyone else in America felt it necessary to do just that. There were scribblings of love and lust and numbers to call for a 'good time.' Sometimes if I'd been really lucky, a drawing or two to keep me entertained.

There was a small knock on the bathroom door and I held my breath as I glanced down at the tiny white stick.

"Keener?!" The familiar voice called out to me from the other side of the door, "You okay in there?"

"Ugh. Yeah."

That was all I could manage to reply. Afterall, I was a tad preoccupied with little stick I held in my hand. I peered down once more and let out relieved sigh when I saw the line.

The one red line.

Just one.

Thank God.

"You sure?" The voice came again.

"I'll be out in a minute... God. Go get a doughnut or something." I knew there'd be hell to pay for that remark, but at least it would get him off my back for a minute or two.

He laughed... then again, maybe I wouldn't be in too much trouble after all.

"You give us a bad name, you know that right?" His reply was predictable, the same he'd given me every morning for years right before he went and bought himself a huge honkin' doughnut just to prove my point.

Yep, the old "cops love doughnuts" cliche. It definitely reigned true with my partner.

I sighed heavily and fought back the tears of relief as I stood from the toilet and pulled my pants back up onto my hips, carefully making sure that my gun was adjusted in it's rightful spot on my belt. How sad was I? Taking a pregnancy test with a gun around my waist anyway?

I couldn't help but smile though as I walked to the mirror and splashed some water on my face, thankful for the moment that I wouldn't have to give up my gun for another big belly just yet. I'd worked hard enough to get back into the job the last time, I wasn't ready to give it up now. I gave the stick one last glance before pitching it casually into the trashcan.

Six weeks of worrying finally over. A month and a half of fears and doubts hanging over my head only finally to be put out of my misery.

I opened the door and stepped out into the light. It was bright and sunny in the bakery and for the first time in a long time I could actually enjoy it. The smells of the pastry and doughnuts no longer set my stomach on edge and I found myself thinking, "Oh hey, so this is what hunger feels like," once again.

"BOO!" I jumped when he came up behind me, turning sharply to smack him in the side of his head.

"Dammit Bosco!" I yelled, my heart racing, "Do you ALWAYS have to be such an ass?"

"Do you always have to be such a spoilsport?"

Maurice Boscorelli.

My partner in crime - literally. I called him "Bosco" he called me "Keener", even though my real name is Amy. It was our own unique little way of maintaining some privacy out on the streets.

Bosco and I had been partners for 3 years and we had the same kind of love/hate relationship a person might have with their brother or sister. You know... you hate them so much you actually love them... that kind?

I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. "You're such a child, you know that? Are you ready to go?"

"What?" He gulped holding up his half-eaten, chocolate frosted, gooey glazed doughnut, "You don't want a doughnut!? What's wrong with you?"

It was all I could do to say no to the sweet treat. But at last, thinking back to the fact that I wasn't planning on growing a gut or eating for two anytime real soon, I refused.

"Not hungry."

He gave me an odd look and shook his head.

"Your loss," He said as he polished off the last bite and wiped his dirty fingers on the leg of his pants. I rolled my eyes at him again. It was like working with a 3-year-old.

I picked up a napkin from the counter and handed it to him. "How about trying one of these next time."

"Naw," he said laughing as he pretended to blow his nose and hand the napkin back to me, "I'm trying to save the trees."

I rolled my eyes as he smirked, "Imbocile."

At that moment a voice came over our walkie talkies... "Unit 10, do you copy?"

Bosco flipped his walkie talkie out of his belt, "Unit 10 to S.T. 5, over."

"Unit 10 we need you to investigate a possible homicide at 455 Madison Avenue, over."

I looked at Boscorelli and he raised his eyebrows towards me, "The Palace?"

I nodded. That was indeed the address of the posh New York City hotel. I could only imagine what kind of chaos we were about to step into.