Beauty Queen

heading onto the north ramp of the FDR Drive.
    "Cruiser two-oh-four responding," she said into her radio as she tromped on the accelerator and Danny flicked on the lights and siren. Their tires squealed, and they flew along Houston Street and went screeching into the north entrance ramp just as the maroon Chevy flew past them at seventy miles an hour.
    As the squad car peeled onto the FDR Drive, it fishtailed a couple of times, but Mary Ellen skillfully straightened it out and roared after the Chevy. In her rear-view mirror, she could see behind her the flashing red light of the patrol car that had sighted the Chevy. She and Danny knew the Chevy didn't have a chance—patrols farther uptown would be flocking to every exit ramp of the FDR Drive, setting up roadblocks.
    The Chevy had no more speed, and quickly she and Danny drew even with it. The driver, a white man, tried to sideswipe her.
    Suddenly, at 34th Street, the Chevy swerved off the FDR Drive and onto an empty little service road that ran along the water, to some Port Authority buildings. Reacting quickly, Mary Ellen also whipped onto the service road.
    Shortly she and Danny drew even with the Chevy, and forced it right into a great pile of sand and gravel, where a few city-owned cement mixers stood. She braked their own screeching, skidding car to a stop.
    Instantly, she and Danny fell out, service revolvers in hand. The Chevy driver and his woman were also scrambling out.
    "Police," Mary Ellen yelled hoarsely. "Don't move!"
    The woman was floundering in the sand pile. The man, shaken up and jelly-kneed, went for his own gun, but then he stumbled in a pothole and fell flat on his face. His gun went spinning off across the pavement. Mary Ellen and Danny were on him in a second, and had him handcuffed before he could get up.
    Just then, the other squad car came screeching to a halt behind them. Back up the FDR Drive, Mary Ellen could see flashing red lights of other cars responding to the scene.
    The sand-covered woman scuffled briefly with the four police officers. Shortly both fugitives were lined up by the squad cars, frisked, handcuffed, and read their rights. It was two good arrests, and Jewel would probably get to write up the chase briefly in Spring 3100. The red lights bathed the waterfront area in an eerie pulsing light.
    One of the other male officers grinned at Mary Ellen and said, "Hey, Cuffs, that's what I call cuttin' 'em off at the pass."
    Back at the station house, Mary Ellen and Danny were able to bask in the pleasant notoriety of the moment. They were patted on the back and kidded a lot.
    "Hey," said Lieutenant Mondello, "if you two make such beautiful music together as cops, just think of the symphony when you get married." The whole place broke up into heehaws and honks of glee.
    Captain Bader, however, had more class. A tall heavyset man with a sad expression, he lived in Yonkers with his wife and two children. Mary Ellen had always liked him—partly because he never gave her any sexist nonsense. He let her do the job, and then he expected her to do it well, or else.
    "Nice work, Mary Ellen," he said warmly. "One of these days, you'll be taking my job away from me."
    When Mary Ellen went home that night, she had a glow that she hadn't felt for weeks.
    Liv was already home, and had cooked some spaghetti with clam sauce.
    "You are in an excellent mood," Liv said.
    "Excellentissimo," said Mary Ellen, hugging her. The day's work had almost made her forget about the rumors of a gay riot.
    They kept hugging each other all during dinner and had scarcely finished the last mouthful when they felt impelled to adjourn to the bedroom.
    Their bed was an invention of two busy working women— a queen-size mattress and box spring that stood right on the floor. It was covered with a lush blue-velour fitted slipcover that was sensual to the body touch, and easy to pull off and wash. Even the pillows and the quilt were covered in blue velour. Liv had sewn duplicate velour sets in gold and bronze-green. To make the bed, all you had to do was plump the pillows and fold the quilt, and the bed was neat as a sofa.
    They had a lot of fun undressing each other, playing with each other's hair and nipples. Finally their jeans were in two heaps on the floor and they were sprawled tenderly on the velour bed.
    At first they both giggled a lot. Then suddenly they got very serious, and Liv said softly, "Draw me."
    This was a child's game that Liv loved. They had made it