Tonya Muir - Exposure Season 1

I growl. I am neither nice nor a lady. I’ll make O’Reilly buy me a beer later for that comment.

"You’re not getting it!" Even as the words leave Tyler’s mouth his magnum fires a shot into the closest cop’s chest. The cop goes down screaming. The girl hardly reacts to the round being fired next to her ear.

The number of expletives that leave my mouth and the cops around me will guarantee a long beep on the broadcast. I pan the camera over to the cop, he’s a rookie I don’t know, and realize the kid is wearing a bulletproof vest. It’ll still hurt like hell, but he won’t die.

All the cops are tense, each of them are praying for just one clean shot. I have mine though and that’s all that matters.

"Get over here, now! Or I blow her fuckin’ head off!" He looks like he might actually mean it this time.

Ah hell, at least it’ll be great footage. Before anyone can stop me, I approach the demented actor. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk." His voice is whiney; he must realize the shitload of trouble he just bought himself.

The idea comes to me in a second. "Ok, ok … you can talk. You can talk to the whole country, Tyler. We’re the top rated independent syndicated news show worldwide." I think all of my qualifiers were in there. "Let me just get the microphone, Tyler. Ok? It’s right here …" I reach into my vest slowly, feeling around for anything that is shaped somewhat like a microphone, hoping that he’s too wasted to notice the one perched on the end of the Betacam. My fingers close around my penlight.

Oh well, what the hell? I pull it out and hold it up. "This is our newest mike, Tyler. It’ll pick up anything and transmits via light wave." Smell what you’re shoveling, Harper. I force myself to sound serious. His eyes are so glazed, I doubt if he even knows his own name at this point. "You just need to hold it and speak right into it."

He looks at me puzzled. Both of his hands are accounted for, in his mind. One is wrapped tightly around his co-star, keeping her from escaping. The other is holding the gun. If I get lucky, he’s going to have to let go of one of them in order to get his wish.

"You hold it!" he protests, his voice confused, unsure of the situation.

"I can’t, Tyler. I gotta shoot," as I say the word, I regret it. "Film," I correct hastily. I tap the penlight against the camera.

"Oh." He’s so close to taking the bait. I can feel it.

"Come on. Let’s get going." I extend the penlight once more and smile like all those false network anchors do.

He reaches out with the hand holding the gun. Yes! Yes! Yes!

"You want me to hold that for you while you talk?" I asked with as innocent a tone as these lips can manage.

"Do you mind?" he asks, his manners returning as the coke works through his system.

I shrug, "Nah. Just for a minute though, ok?"

"Ok." He hands me the magnum, barrel first, scaring the hell out of me. I don’t have on one of those fancy vests. I just have my equipment vest, and it won’t stop shit. I grab hold of the barrel. It’s still hot from its recent firing, and I untangle it from his fingers.

The moment it’s out of his hand and into mine, four very pissed off cops tackle him.

And I get it all in close up.

Damn, I’m good.

<fade to commercial>

* * *

<fade in from commercial>

I smile as I drop the kickstand on my baby and park her outside my favorite after-hours hangout. I love The Rio; it serves all of my purposes. I get to hang out with a lot of my friends and there is always someone who wants to go home with me. Quite a few news groupies gather here. Most of them all hope that one of us will be able to help them break into 'The Business.' I let them think that. I know, I’m awful. I laugh to myself as I hang my helmet on the handle bar and get off the bike.

I take a good look at myself in the reflection of the bar window before I go in. Black silk shirt open to the third button, small black leather vest to accent the chaps over my dark jeans and boots. I run my fingers through my hair to work out some of the kinks left by the helmet. Oh yeah, I look good and I'm ready for whatever the evening might hold.

As I open the door and step inside, I am immediately greeted by a loud round of applause with varied whistles and catcalls inserted liberally. I spread my arms to either side of my body and take a bow. "Thank you! Thank you! No applause, please, just throw money!"

This gets me an additional round of applause. Some dip-shit pitches a quarter at me which I snag out of the air with my left hand. The bar goes silent, waiting for my reaction.

I look up to see the culprit is Gary Lawton. Gary is another cameraman and at one time we were considered rivals, but not anymore. Now Gary is the closest thing to a best friend I have. I move to his spot by the bar and take the stool next to him. "Thanks a lot, you cheap son of a bitch." I toss the quarter onto the bar.

People laugh and the bar activity goes back to normal.

"My pleasure." He smirks as he raises his glass to me. "You know, I have come to a conclusion about you, Harper Kingsley."

"Oh you have?" I motion the bartender over then I signal for two drinks, one for me and one for my friend. "And that would be what?"

"You are either the bravest, or the stupidest, person I have ever met."

I laugh as the bartender puts our beers down in front of us. I continue looking to Gary over the rim of my mug as I take my first drink.

"A fucking penlight! You used a fucking penlight!"

"Inspired, don't you think?" I chuckle as I sit my beer down and slowly begin looking around to see who might get my attention tonight.

"Crazy maybe. Too bad they don't give awards for those kinds of shots, ‘cause, man, that was a winner."

"Thanks." For some reason, Gary’s approval actually matters to me.

"I still can't believe that it worked."

"Eh, Sagemore was positively trashed out of his mind. I could have handed him a stick of fuckin’ dynamite and he wouldn't have known the difference."

"Now that would have been some footage!" Gary laughs as he drains his glass. "Oh look, it's the Ice Bitch." He points to the TV above the bar.

I turn my head from the dark blonde that had caught my attention to the screen. There I find another blonde. Oh, now she is cute. I grin. "Ice Bitch, huh? Doesn't look very frosty to me. Actually she looks like she'd be quite a sweet treat." I sip my beer.

"Kelsey Stanton? Are you kidding? Oh, you need to get out more, my friend. She has quite the reputation for being a man-eater."

I nearly choke on my beer at his words. I glance up again, study the woman on-screen. Nope, not her, she's 'family.' "Gary, she's a lipstick lesbian." I explain patiently, as if to a child; most men are. "The words 'man' and 'eater' do not commingle in her vocabulary." I am proud of myself for finding a non-sexual way to use the word commingle in a sentence.

"Ha! Goes to show how much you know, smart-ass. She lives with Erik Collins. They've got quite the thing going."

"You don't say." I consider the screen again. Generally, I'm not wrong about these things so this news does surprise me a bit. "Too bad. She really strikes me as the type who would enjoy a tongue bath."

"Nah. Well, at least not from you, but I'll bet old Erik 'Super Stud' Collins finds himself on his back more often that not. I'm betting she likes to be on top. I'm guessing she gives quite the ride."

"I could fix that problem." I smile as I crook my finger to the woman I was checking out earlier. "If she were with me, she'd be on her back and enjoying every heart-pounding, muscle-jolting minute of it as she writhed around on a nice set of silk sheets." I drop my voice just a bit and lean closer to him. "You know what I mean: when a light sheen of sweat breaks out on our bodies as I fuck her silly."

"You know you've got quite the ego there." Gary remarks as he shifts in his seat to make the proper adjustment. His grin fades as the woman comes over to me laying a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I move my mouth to her ear. "So, can I buy you a drink?"

She nods as her other hand travels slowly down the opening of my shirt.

"Careful, darlin', you'll cause my buddy here to have a heart attack." We both glance over at Gary who is staring and not doing a damn thing to try and hide it. I raise my eyebrow at him as her hand travels under my shirt, her fingers grazing against my nipple. If Gary wants a show, I can give him a show. "You were saying?" I motion for the bartender again.

"Ah, hell! Nothing, forget I fucking said anything." He turns to the bar, sipping the beer I just bought him. Poor Gary, he never gets the girl.

"So, sweet thing." I turn back my attention to the woman on my shoulder. "Other than me, what'll you have?"

She smiles. " How about a Screaming Orgasm?"

"Well, I was thinking a drink first, but, hey, I'm game for anything," I tease, as I slide my hands under her blouse caressing the small of her back.

"It is a drink, silly." She gives my nipple a little pinch. Oh, she's gonna be fun.

<Fade Out>

Coming next week at its new regularly scheduled time of Thursday, 9pm EDT, Must Read TV:

Episode Two: Powder Room

Sensationalist television makes my blood boil. The ‘cutting edge’ camera shots and pure lack of decorum are media and not news. I hate that the business is a reaction to the ratings and not the events of the world. I hate more that my own station is pushing that direction. Our competition has stepped up to the battle, wielding flashy sets and expensive, form-fitting suits of pastels. The ratings show that audiences like this hip look and we’re losing to the competition. Change is afoot and I can smell it like rotten meat on a campout in June. I wrinkle my nose with distaste as I finish my tea and turn my attention to the stacks of files Gail handed me. I turn down the volume again, finding the tall woman distracting.

* * *

Have you been Exposed?

I take one last look in the mirror: steel gray skirt suit with a white silk blouse and two inch heels. Yup, this is my look. My professional look, that is. My private look is more likely to be baggy sweats and a T-shirt. I glance back at the clock by the bed. "Oh shit!"

Grabbing my purse from the bed, I start digging for my car keys as I head through the penthouse. I call for the elevator, continuing to look for my keys. "Okay, Kelsey, think… keys… keys…" I take a deep breath when I realize where the keys to my Mercedes are. "Erik! You little shit!" I climb up the stairs back to the bedrooms, glancing down at the 'do not disturb' sign on the knob to Erik's room. It is quite clear that he has company. "Hope your friend doesn't blush easily."

I throw the door to his room open. "Erik?" I call as I stroll inside, clicking on the bedside lamp. My roommate and 'live in lover' Erik Collins lays on his side, back to me, arm draped over some young man he brought home last night. I sit down on the edge on the bed and poke him in the shoulder. "Erik?" I do at least whisper. I don't really want to wake his guest.

He rolls over, opening a bleary eye in my direction. "Kels, my love." He grins as he wipes his eyes, taking a few moments to blink and focus. He’s handsome even just from slumber: tousled blonde hair framing an angular face and clear blue eyes. He’s smiling at me and even though I’m late and frustrated, I find I can’t muster the anger that had been coursing through me moments before. But I don’t let him off the hook completely.

"Cut the crap. Where are the keys to my Mercedes? I'm running late."

"My pants." He gestures to the back of the chair, glancing to his bedmate who still sleeps soundly. I can tell from the muscular tanned back and the shock of bleached blonde hair that Erik hasn’t strayed from his surfer boy tendencies yet, and it makes me smother a grin. He’ll grow up some day but for now he prefers to play the field. "Sorry. We got in late. I didn't want to wake you," he continues, oblivious to my silent thoughts.

I retrieve his pants, fishing out my keys, capturing them in my palm to muffle the jingle. "No problem. I'll see you later."

"Hey?"

"What?"

"I have a late lunch with Calvin Alexander to-day." He grins at me as he sings the 'today' in his sentence. "Would my lovely and beautiful girlfriend please join me?"