As the questioning went on, I glanced at Stu, and saw that he was asleep in his chair.
I looked at Christy and she came over to me. "That cop," I whispered, "the one who likes you, do you think you could get him to supply us with some coffee, and something to eat?"
"What?" she demanded, almost inaudibly. "You want me to–"
"–use your feminine wiles, yes." I replied. "It's a tremendous sacrifice, I know, but think of poor Stu. And poor us if we need his legal advice, and–"
We were now in a contest to see who could keep a straight face the longest.
"Oh, alright," she said, attempting to look disgusted. "When I tell my boyfriend about this, he's going to give you what-for."
Of course, she simply went and asked the question. The only feminine wile she deployed was a dazzling smile, but a plan was immediately concocted to get us some sandwiches and some soda (the cops were apparently reserving the coffee for themselves).
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