BREAKING AND ENTERING (responding to Sal85's challenge)

Challenge, quote Sal85: "This is a muddled up version of the episodes…Betty high on perfume sneaks (breaks into) Gio's apartment to steal back her and Henry's tickets only to find out Gio is alert to the fact that there is an intruder in his home and Betty learns that Gio sleeps in the buff.".

Just loved this challenge – couldn't resist making a go at it. Sadly don't own the characters and hope I haven't offended anyone who do own them or love them and feel they wouldn't have behaved like this… the perfume held some strong poison, remember?? Gals and Guys - feel free to comment and even write continuing chapters. Many Getty brains thinketh better than one.

Betty knew two things: She smelled good and she sure was going to the show with Henry.

OK, so rude Gio, the new sandwich guy, her fake boyfriend, for the time being sat on her tickets, but that was a minor problem.

She smelled good! She could do anything. She was Super Woman!

Had she not figured out where rude Gio lived?(practically without stalking him.) She'd actually lost him when she tried to follow him yesterday after work, but she'd never sink so low she stalked anyone. Least of all pickle napkin Gio! A few phone calls to former classmates had done the trick. They all remembered him, but amazingly didn't recall her. Well, she hadn't remembered him, and they all trusted her once she said she was Hilda's sister. Who didn't remember Hilda? And they'd helped her circle in his present location.

He hadn't moved far from his folks. She'd guessed that much already. Sandwich guy was Italian for freak's sake! Ever seen an Italian guy more than ten yards away from his mamma? The neighborhood resembled her own; a bit worn down, his house needed painting, a couple of frames had seen better days, but heck, it was a house! She only had a narrow room in her father's house – who was she to talk?

It wasn't his name on the door, but all former mates she'd contacted, had given her this address.

She couldn't see his car, which was brilliant. It was all about getting in, nicking the tickets and disappearing without having left trace behind. That couldn't be done according to plan if sandwich guy was home during this breaking and entering.

He obviously was out clubbing, impressing daft, good looking women with that slick tongue of his, and that broad smile, and with his irritating, ironic comments, plus his excellent dancing. Could that man move!

As if she cared!

Just proved how shallow he was. Oh, she knew his kind from high school! The true dogs! They were all too bold, all too popular, all too good looking. Thought they owned the world. He wasn't even that good looking, come to think of it! It was all in his mind – subjective thinking.

The front door was locked. She was prepared.

Her hands were shaking.

Focus, Betty, focus! Motivation!

Motivation: The tickets. She was here for the tickets.

Oh, Henry would be so surprised! Betty smiled. He'd forget all about stupid, beautiful, cunning, pregnant Charlie. And Betty and Henry would have a lovely date beginning with the show and ending with sparkling fireworks - of hot, steaming kisses and horizontal gymnastics. No Charlie in sight. No Charlie in thought. No Charlie for a whole evening. Yes! That was her motivation.

Her hands still shook so heavily, she had to indulge herself in another dose of that awesome perfume of Claire's. Amazing how a scent could lift your spirits! Betty immediately was filled with self esteem.

Super Woman confidence ruled!

On TV she'd seen how low IQ bad guys picked locks with hairpins or credit cards. How difficult could that be? She had no hairpin, and she sure wasn't about to ruin her plastics – some things still had to stay holy!

But she had a fountain pen – a birthday present from Daniel, and she was still cross with Daniel. If he hadn't given Gio those tickets – her tickets to share with her boyfriend (who still was sweet Henry despite the fact that she had told Daniel she was dating rude Gio – which lead to Daniel's mild confusion as to whom she actually dated) she wouldn't have been in this mess. Daniel could have given the tickets to her! He had known her for more than a year and Gio for less than a week. Typical guys to stick together!

Betty didn't like the pen that much anymore. She could do without it. Who wrote with a pen anyway? Everybody had computers. And fact was, she hadn't written much lately (but neither had Shakespeare!)

Betty could sacrifice the pen for sweet love and some possible erotic yoga. She was saving that mental picture. Henry was really athletic, and his six-pack was to die for… It was worth breaking into rude Gio's house for anyway.

No hesitation! Super Woman was focused.

Betty stuck the pen into the lock and jiggled a bit. It sure seemed easier on TV, but then the bad guys, though lack of IQ, had proper equipment and, she suspected, better training in just this field. She had to improvise and learn while doing. Where did bad guys get hairpins from? Most of them were bald. She had gorgeous hair – so Henry told her, she was a good girl and she had never really needed any hairpins.

Something in the lock gave in. She heard a click. She believed the key fell out of the lock and onto the floor. It was a very old fashioned door and a ditto old fashioned lock. She held her breath. No alarm went off. Sandwich guy probably was too helium headed to think someone would break into his home.

His loss!

He didn't seem the type to appreciate the finer arts, anyway. She probably did him a favor, lifting those tickets off his hands.

She giggled and did some inventive moves with the pen. She heard the sound of the lock snapping. Betty couldn't believe her luck when she could actually open the door. It didn't even quirk. OK, so she couldn't remove the pen, but she'd see to that on return. No use in leaving evidence behind – such as fingerprints and a fountain pen with her name engraved.

Super Woman, still smelling good, entered the house.

She stood in a narrow hall, which gave her three doors to choose to open. God, she hated making decisions!

Gio was totally worn out. He had worked like crazy, putting in long hours every day the full week. Keeping the deli running was no walk in the park, but he didn't complain. It was part of his plan, the beginning of a dream that he would make come true. He wasn't afraid of hard work. To top it, he'd helped his uncle Salvatore, doing a few late night shifts at Sal's gas station. His not so bright cousin Diego was down with an infection – which uncle Sal thought was a nasty flu, but Gio knew better. But Diego was family – bad taste in women or not. You helped your folks.

Gio so needed to sleep that he barely got out of his clothes and reached the bed before he collapsed. He practically was unconscious by the time he hit the mattress.

… he came to it at a steaming hot picnic with the sweetest girl ever –and it all slowly came to him.

Sweet pickles, he'd fancied her from the moment he laid eyes on her, and even more from the first time she picked a fight with him – over a dried tomato too few in her sandwich. Now, that was a fierce woman for you! She of course called that a discussion. Let her call it what she wanted. He'd known she had temper once she insisted he had cheated her.

That was it. He was sold. Not a chance to escape.

Gio liked a woman who knew what she wanted. He liked a woman with curves, with a soft body to embrace and melt towards. He liked a woman who was quick tongued and who wasn't scared off by some direct exchange of words. And he liked a woman who dared stand out from the 14-in-a-dozen crowd, a woman who dared be herself.

When he saw her, he knew she was the one.

Simple as that.

The woman of his dreams.

Betty.

Had there ever been a sweeter name? A sweeter smile? A sweeter face? Had there ever been a more tempting body waiting for the right man to caress and worship and love her?

Nope!

Betty.

He couldn't believe his luck. She had said yes the moment he asked her out. OK, so she hadn't said yes at once, but you had to work a little for all the good things in life. She had said there was no one else. OK, so she said there was someone else; a small hindrance named Egg salad, but he was a minor worry. Egg salad would soon be history. What full blooded Italian stud had ever been stopped by a pale accountant with glasses and a pregnant girlfriend?

There was no competition.

All other NY men were obviously blind – but Gio didn't mind. Betty practically was there for him to pick.

He could see where the NY men were blind, he knew what he liked - and he sure liked her. He worshipped every gorgeous inch of her. He had widescreen, full color dreams of her. HD - some of them X-rated. OK, most of them were X-rated, but he hadn't acted out any of them - yet. You moved carefully when you met a woman like Betty.

He'd made thorough plans for the picnic.

He'd picked Betty up after work. Made sure Egg salad saw them take off together. It wasn't only a matter of enjoying yourself – you had to annoy someone when doing so. Betty didn't know. She was innocent and sweet and excited - and she believed he was a gentleman.

Yeah – right!

They rode his car to Montauk. He'd brought a bottle of Italian red, a good vintage of Barolo.

They built a fire on the beach and grilled marshmallows. They danced bare feet to the music from his car stereo. She was careful when he first grabbed her, but when she loosened up, she danced like a queen. She moved those full hips like she was born to seduce. Heck – she was Latina, she'd just forgotten that, climbing the career ladder, moving among the pale Mode girls who never ate. Her full bosom dived as she danced and tempted him more than he could express in words. She'd run screaming from him had she known his thoughts in full color.

Betty was happy and tipsy and didn't mention accountant boy once. Gio fed her strawberries, one at a time. He fed her dark chocolate and grapes. She licked his fingers snapping the goodies, and his mouth dried so much he was convinced their quiet beach was the Sahara desert. He would have loved it there in her company.

They joked. They recited poetry they knew by heart. She knew a lot of Shakespeare. He had a great repertoire of Italian pop song lyrics. She loved it when he first gave her the Italian version, then translated to English.

Gio wondered just how big this Waggerdagger-guy would have been, had he been born Italian.

They cuddled up together, shared a blanket, drank more wine and watched the sun go down. They fell asleep in each other's arms. They woke up, lazy, dozy – wonderfully dizzy, happy, arms and legs entangled.

The moment had come.

Gio recognized it. Betty was warm and not at all blind for his charm. He was kissing her softly, feeling the sweetness of her lips, tasting her, making her respond to his every kiss, making her want more. Slowly he touched her curved body. He hadn't wanted anybody this badly in all his life. The electricity between them fizzed and crackled. It was about to set her on fire…

…someone was at the front door.

Gio woke up swearing in Italian. What stronzo broke into his dream just as it was getting interesting? He jumped to his feet, grabbed the baseball bat next to the bed and moved quietly on naked feet, hiding his person behind the door.

If that jerk believed he could both ruin what could have been a very pleasant dream and break into the house, Giovanni Rossi was about to prove the idiot wrong!

The jerk was moving around in the hall. Ha ha. Nothing to steal there. Gio positioned broadlegged. He could wait!

First door proved to be the bathroom. It had a sickening green color. It sure could need some extreme makeover. It would have been interesting to see what Ty could have made out of it, but Betty wasn't up to making rude Gio, the fakest of all fake boyfriends, any favors. Betty shut the door, half dizzy by the smell of Gio's after shave. At least the smell proved it was the right house, no matter which name was on the door.

The second door opened to the kitchen. Spotless. Maybe he didn't cook much at home. Probably went home to mamma's to eat. Did enough cooking at work, blah, blah, blah. She could almost hear his excuses. She would have stuck the tickets to the fridge with a colorful magnet. The SMEG fridge wasn't decorated with anything, neither magnets nor tickets.

He probably kept them real safe. Like in his bedroom. Betty felt her cheeks flush.

Motivation!

Bedroom – door number three?

Betty boldly opened it, but didn't digest any of its soul. The second she stepped into the room, she heard a scream and a butt naked man jumped up in front of her, waving a star spangled baseball bat. She didn't get what he was screaming. The bat fell to the ground and rapidly covered the only interesting – item to view in the room. Not that she was looking!

- Gio, she breathed and tried to pretend she hadn't picked his lock and gained access to his home. She was simply – visiting. How very rude of him to entertain her in his birthday suit.

- Betty, he responded hoarsely and pulled his breath – deep.

It was the first time she'd seen him lost for words and slightly uncomfortable. Not to mention naked.

She nodded at the baseball bat.

- How very patriotic of you, she commented.

She was absolutely not trying to get a sneak peak of his private parts. They were, after all, private.

- I was in the neighborhood, she explained. – Thought it would be polite to say hello. Hello!

She did her Betty-wave and smiled.

- Geez, it's hot in her, she rattled on. – You like it this hot? Betty asked. – Well, obviously you do. And walking 'round in the buff… well, you need it hot. Not that it bothers me how you dress … or don't dress… in your own home. This is your home, by the way? I noticed another name on the door…

- Belongs to my uncle Andrea – uh, Gio explained while crouching gracefully (or not) over the bat, trying very hard to hide what she needn't see – yet. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd been blessed with, but this wasn't how he'd planned to show her the goodies – less alone how he'd planned to seduce her.

That master plan involved romance, music, dance, wine, smooth conversation, kisses, slow moves … not humiliation or nudeness. Well, no nudeness to start with, anyway.

- He's over in the old country for a year, he said like they were having a totally normal conversation. - Lets me live here. House sitting. He's the baseball player.

Betty's glance again sought the bat – and it immediately drifted off. No way did he hide the tickets there, or anywhere else on his body.

He could be proud of that body, BTW. Not that she stared. She just noticed. She couldn't help seeing – she had eyes after all, since he flashed all that tanned skin right in front of her. Betty was just a woman, super of course, but also Super Woman had eyes. She sweated and had to use all her self control not to run her palms over his taut, muscled chest, the well-developed shoulders and the tight, smooth skin curving over his hip.

Ooooh! Once again the bat caught her eye. The baseball bat! No rude imagination allowed! Her mouth went dry. She felt dizzy.

- Didn't think you'd be home, she said. Her voice actually worked.

- You don't say, Gio responded and lifted his brows. – That's why you came calling – so late?

- Uhum, she answered, forcing herself to look the other way. She could still steal a glance of his well sculptured body – from the corner of her eye. The frames of her glasses hopefully hid her unholy interest. And that dry mouth slowly watered, it continued watering.

- You broke into my home, Suarez, Gio said and waved his hands, causing him to accidentally losing the grip of the bat. He had to make some acrobatic moves to avoid showing her the full sparkle of the family jewels.

She rolled her eyes, swallowed hard, and Gio could swear she was close to fainting. Which somewhat cheered him up. So – he impressed her, huh? He knew he had some moves. Egg salad-Henry maybe wasn't as well equipped?

Hadn't he known that already; no competition!

Doing some more spectacular moves, Gio fell over the bed and covered his body up with the bedspread while franticly looking for his clothes. He located the jeans, was able to reach them with his toes, but not the boxers, and he decided going commando was way better than flashing himself. Betty looked at him, sweetly blushing, while he struggled to get dressed without revealing more secrets for her very eyes. Once buttoned up, he let go of the bedspread.

- Why are you here? Gio asked, walking towards her.

Betty gazed at him, a strange flame flashed in those dark brown eyes in front of her.

Gee, she felt weird! She was floating.

His gaze melted her. She was honey, and she wanted him to be Winnie-the-Pooh. She wanted him to lick all that honey. Her lips moved, but there came no sound. How silly – just when she had so many things to tell him. She tried again, but she didn't remember what to say. Her knees were trembling. And he came closer. She could feel the warmth of his body. He radiated – he was hot like a thousand suns. She could smell him. And she sure would like to touch that warm, toned shirtless chest…

- I like the look of you, Giovanni Rossi, Betty murmured hoarsely.

Gio couldn't believe his ears. He had to be back in that dream!

They were on the beach, he'd just unbuttoned his shirt and tore it off, aiming to persuade her to go skinny dipping with him. He knew he could make her say yes…

He lifted a hand to touch her. Betty smiled, opening her mouth a little, showing the tip of her tongue, as if she was inviting him to kiss her.

And she fell to the floor, eyes closed, cheeks blushing, those sweet lips trembling – and Gio could swear they formed his name.

- Gio…

He stumbled to his knees. He lifted her into his arms. And – heaven forbid, but he just couldn't resist it – his lips lightly touched hers.

- Betty, he said, voice trembling. – Betty, no playing games on me. Betty, please wake up!

She wasn't playing games. She was flat out, and Gio couldn't understand what caused it. Could she be sick? Heaven forbid -could she be pregnant? He felt his anger rise. He could have killed Henry with his bare hands; impregnating two women at the same time…

She couldn't be so stupid… but then again – she was a woman who believed she was in love with a man who didn't deserve her. Saner women had done stranger things.

She'd behaved strangely lately – but he'd thought she was avoiding him. Egg salad didn't like her hanging out with him. Egg salad, very wisely, saw Gio as a threat.

He was no medic. He wasn't even a paramedic. Gio held her softly while he dug his mobile phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

- Operator, he said. – I need an ambulance here…

Feel free to continue, anyone!!