Okay, how many of ya'll out there want to see Mike? (Podie1 and Penn O'Hara raise hands) Hahaha, good. Mike makes an appearance in this little story, and he learns the profound meaning of "Wax on, wax off." The prompt for this was, "If you're looking for trouble, she just had her legs waxed." Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

CICICICICICICICICI

Bobby Goren was looking impossibly small for a man of his stature as he walked into the squadroom, and Mike Logan was intrigued.

Twenty minutes later, Alex Eames walked in, looking pissed as hell. Mike grinned. This was going to be interesting.

Around lunch, Mike approached Bobby, his hands in his pockets. "Your little fireball looks pissed," he commented, nodding toward Alex, who was storming toward the bathroom.

Bobby shook his head. "Don't. If you're looking for trouble, she just had her legs waxed."

Mike snorted. "So?"

He leaned in. "The guy who did it grabbed... certain parts of her body. She's pissed at any and all men."

Mike thrusted a finger at him. "Even you?"

"Especially me. Her coffee didn't have enough sugar in it."

Mike headed back to his desk, laughing. But a half hour later, Alex came up to his desk, a bag in her hand.

He took his feet off of his desk. "What's up, sweetheart?" he asked.
Without a word, she grabbed his arm, smoothed some wax over it, then laid a strip of cloth on it.

He started to pull his arm away, but as he did, she reached over and ripped the cloth off, along with several thousand of his arm hairs.

He nearly screamed, and she walked away with a smirk on her face, saying, "Wax on, wax off."

Bobby just shook his head at his fireball of a wife, then stuck his nose in another report, ignoring Mike's utterances of pain.

The End

A/N: There ya go. Hope everyone enjoyed this. I know I had fun writing this one. Thanks for reading!