Standard Disclaimer: Stephen J. Cannell owns the Silk Stalkings franchise. I merely write Rita/Chris stories for my reader's enjoyment. The characters and situations of the Silk Stalkings television program are the creations and property of Stephen J. Cannell, Stu Segall, USA Network Broadcasting, Rob Estes, Mitzi Kapture, et cetera, and are used without permission. Any similarities of the names of the teachers and reverends of anyone living and/or dead is purely coincidental. No infringement intended. I just want to tell a story. Please keep name attached to story when distributing.

Be forewarned: This story is for fans of Classic Silk-Chris and Rita, although, the new detectives, Tom and Cassy...'is another story,' Detectives Price and Rawlins are mentioned in this story. Captain Lipschitz makes also an appearance for all the die hard 'Lip' fans.

This story is set in the future, I'm assuming 17 years after Chris' death, and Rita has moved back to Palm Beach. Donnie 'Dogs' Dibarto, one of the true characters, is in this story. Also, this is rated PG-13 for language and adult content.

Special thanks go to Andrea Phillips, without whom this story would not have been possible. Andrea, thanks for being the other half of my brain! I couldn't have done it without you. Steve Shayes, thank you for all the endless help with my system. Lisa Smith and Andrea, thanks for hanging in there with me and making me realize that people actually are very nice when it comes to this type of stuff. Thank you to the mailing list and the regulars in the IRC chat #silkstalkings who have answered my questions. This story was written for you! One final thank you, Gillian, who has forced me to stick with this project until finished so that I could finally spend "mommy" time with her. On a final note,lets all join in another campaign to get a movie with Chris and Rita. Okay, Okay...I know, you are saying get a move on it Annie...so here it is

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The First Kiss Goodmorning

PART ONE

by Anne A. Fitzgerald-McFadden

Copyright 1996-All Rights Reserved

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"Christin, come on. Get up, you'll be late, again." said the disembodied voice.

"I'm up mom, Okay, I'm up"

Slowly the profile of a girl rose from the bed. She sat completely up, put her feet on the floor and rubbed her eyes. She slowly stood up and walked a few feet to her bathroom.

Downstairs a woman was putting bread in the toaster.

"Turn the music down please."

She said loudly enough to be heard, as the water from a shower started, a few seconds later her wish was granted. The door shut, quieting the rush of water and music. The woman then turned and went across the room into her room and shut the door.

After a few minutes of quietness in the apartment, the toaster popped up and the coffee started perking, it was at this point that all hell, that was a morning ritual, was breaking lose.

The woman emerged from her room completely dressed in a pumpkin colored slacks, a creme colored blouse and a matching pumpkin colored blazer. The girl, who now appeared not to be a girl but a teenager, flew down the flight of stairs and ran into the kitchen. Skidding all the way to the kitchen on the wooden floors in her socks.

"Christin, please..."the woman looked at her teenager with a bit of madness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry mom, but like you said I'm gonna be late." Christin made it to the toaster, grabbed a slice of toast and put it in her mouth. While the toast is in her mouth, she grabbed a cup and poured coffee into it. She then replaces the coffee pot and turns it off.

With one hand holding the cup, she takes a bite of the toast and slowly walks toward her mother. As she gets near her mother, she takes a sip of coffee and hands her mother both.

"Christin, you are not going to wear that, are you?"

"Mom, I love this...plus it's the only thing clean I have," she says of the gray sweatpants that long ago become shorts, the faded Nike shirt and pink short sleeved dress shirt. Christin walked over to the couch and grabs her shoes on the side of it. She sits on the couch and puts on her tennis shoes.

"Christin you wear that shirt everyday."

"Mom, what's the matter with it, besides, I love it."

"Nothing." Christin's mother says as she walks into the kitchen to deposit her mug.

As Christin heads towards the door, her mother says, "I don't know when I'll be home."

"Love you, see ya." The door slams shut behind Christin and once again, there is complete silence in the apartment.

Christin's mother thinks of the last owner of that shirt. She sighs then walks over to the forest trimmed harvest table by the door. Picks up her nine millimeter gun and tucks it behind her. Grabs her badge and shuts the drawer. She pauses a minute to her reflection on the mirror, making sure everything looks good. Next, she looks down and looks at a picture on the table and quietly says, "Goodbye." She walks over to the had rack, takes her purse from the rack and walks out the door, slamming it behind her.

***********************************************

The woman walked through a set of double doors, goes to her office, and slammed the door.

A few minutes later, there is a knock at her door.

"In" she hollers.

"Hey Rita" says the intruder of her morning.

She looks up, smiles, and asks, "Hey Cap, what's up?"

"Rita, how are you?"

"Fine Cap, why"

"Well, you just seem a little moody today, a little out of sorts. I'm not saying moody is bad, but you just seem to be in a funk recently.

"Nothing wrong Cap, sorry."

"You sure?"

"I promise you, nothing is wrong," a ring from the telephone breaks in. "Excuse me" she picks up the phone, after a few minutes of okays and huhs, she replaces the receiver. She stands up, and walks over to Harry and says, "I have to go, but I promise you I'm fine," as she does so, she gives him a hug.

"Okay"

She walks past him and out the double doors that she had entered.

***************************************************

She arrives at a scene and a body is stretched out. It is a dead body. "Hey Holly, what do you have?"

"Oh, hi Lieutenant. Um, a girl that is supposed to look like a suicide, but if you notice on her neck, there are bruises."

"Got a name?"

"Yeah, and you are gonna love this, remember a guy by the name of Montoya..." she asks blatantly.

The lieutenant rolls her eyes at Holly and just gives her a weird look. Holly receives the expression, continues, "Well, yeah, um, her name is Maria Montoya, it's Montoya's daughter."

"Okay, I want to see this case step by step, and anything weird, I want to know about it immediately, got me"

"Read you loud and clear lieutenant," a voice deeper than that of Holly's says.

"Hey Michael"

"Hi lieutenant"

"Well, um, I'll be back at the shop, okay." She turned and left immediately. As she starts to leave the house, she thought, 'Montoya, damn, I'd hope to never hear that name again in my life.' She gets in her car and returns to the police station.

***************************************************

The woman, who now appears to be a Lieutenant and as Rita, decided to go home early, something has disturbed her today. Actually, it was not a something but a someone, she thought. She had stopped by the grocery store and was attempting to get the groceries out of the trunk, when she heard music. She peered around the uplifted trunk and looked from the direction that the music was coming. 'Christin's home' she thought. She went back to the trunk, grabbed the three bags of groceries, and carefully shut the trunk lid.

She climbed the stairs to the apartment. She put two bags down and held onto the other one as she searched for her house key on the key ring. She unlocked the door and went to the kitchen and put the bag down. Christin was nowhere in sight. She walked over to the stereo and turned the music down. She then went to the door and grabbed the other two bags of groceries. As she proceeded to the kitchen, she thought, 'she is her father's daughter.' As she began putting the groceries away, a voice from the upstairs questioned.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Christin, it's me."

"What are you doing home so early," replied the voice as it came close to the woman in the kitchen.

The woman in the kitchen turned and looked at her daughter and thought, 'She is definitely her father's daughter.' It had amazed her a year earlier when Christin had found his pink dress shirt and continuously wore it. She wore it with everything. Today she was wearing it over a white T-shirt and sweats that had long ago become shorts and white socks. Her hair was put up into a ponytail.

"I came home early because I couldn't concentrate on a case so I brought some work home. Christin who is that you are listening to?"

"I'm not sure, whoever it is, is a great blues and sax player."

"What do you mean, your not sure."

"Well, I had to find a picture of me as a baby for the yearbook and I found this next to the scrapbooks."

"This couldn't be," she walked over to the tape. Hit stop and withdrew the tape. CJL. Sure enough, it was him. She looked down at the tape and started to cry.

"Mom, what's the matter?"

"I forgot that he made this."

"He who, who is it playing?"

"Christin, didn't you see the initials on the tape?" she looked at her daughter and wiped away the tears.

Christin had made her way over to her mom, took the tape and looked at it. CJL. "Oh, man! Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't look. Do you want me to put it back?" She gave her mom a hug.

"No, actually, I hadn't heard this for a long time, I forgot how good a player he was." Christin's mom took the tape from her daughter and put it back into the stereo and pushed play. Softly and dramatically a saxophone and a band accompanied the playing. She walked to the kitchen to put the rest of the groceries away and Christin watched her every move. Making sure that she was really all right about playing the tape. Christin walked over to her mom and helped with putting the groceries away in a silence that was only broken by the sound of music.

Once they were done, this woman named Rita, looked at her daughter and said, "I'll be back. If Harry calls let him know he can reach me on my beeper, okay?"

"Sure."

Rita walked over to the door and just as she reached the door knob, a voice came through the apartment. It had been a long time since she had heard the voice, but was still able to tell who it was. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her daughter watched her tense up.

"Rita, what do you think?"

"You play it so sad."

"Sax was born to be blue, Sammy."

The music continued for a little while and then more conversation could be heard.

Half way through the conversation and a little bit of playing Christin's mom has left. Christin walked over to the window and watched her pull away. She continued to listen to their conversation.

The conversation ended. Christin hits stop and rewound the tape. 'That must be his voice,' she thought as she hits play again to listen once again. The conversation and the music repeats and allows the tape to continue. She walked over to the table by the door, picked up the picture and walked back to the couch. She laid down looking at the picture. The picture of her father. She closed her eyes and listened to the music come through. Within minutes, she fell asleep, still holding the picture.

***************************************************

Rita, meanwhile, has driven to the beach. She parked her care, took off her jacket and got out. As she hits the sandy beach, she took off her shoes, and realized that she is s ill in work clothes. She went closer to the coastline and just walked. An hour into her walk, her phone rang.

"Lorenzo here," she said as she answered it.

She stopped walking and asked, "Where are you?"

"Okay, I'll meet you back at the station."

She turned around and walked back to her car, this time walking a little bit faster and not stopping like she had. The walk took her half an hour to get back to her care.

***************************************************

"What are the findings?" she asked as she walked through the double doors.

"Her name is Esther Quartiez. It appears that her father, Ramon Quartiez, was Montoya's second man. This one is beginning to get weird. it seems that someone is trying to kill off Montoya's old crew."

"Michael, any leads from the families?"

"Nothing. Most of the families had not been in contact with Montoya's wife or their children for nearly ten years. There was a fight within the family when Chris was killed and have been estranged ever since."

"What about Quartiez?"

"We are still trying to find her family."

"Okay, anything new, I want to know, okay."

"You got it," came from a toothy blonde.

She drove to the shop in quiet. Three and a half hours later, after some paperwork that had piled up after she left, some phone calls, and a memo to tell some of the officers of requalification classes that were coming up, it hit her desk. The prelim on the Quartiez case. She picked it up, put it in a folder with Montoya's daughter, put the file in the file drawer and shut it. 'Well, looks as though someone might be doing me some favors,' she thought with a small little smile that quickly disappeared. She walked out of her office and headed towards her car.

After a few minutes of driving, she realized she was not driving in the direction of home, but in another direction, a direction that she knew well. Minutes later her car was parked in front of the dance club. She took a heavy breath and exhaled. Got out of her navy colored Ford Taurus and walked towards the club. She got to the door, was ID checked by a bouncer, and just before she went in, she asked him if he was there.

She had been sitting at the table no longer than ten minutes when she heard, "Rita, doll, where have you been? I've been worried about you."

"Hey Donnie. I've been around, busy with work and Christin mostly."

"How's your daughter doing, Rita?"

"She's fine, turning out to be more like Chris everyday."

"So Rita, I take it, this is not just some social call, could it be because of the recent homicides that have been coming your way, now could it?"

She looked at him, just trying to figure out how much he knew, and how much he was going to tell her. "Yes, Donnie, do you know who's behind it...and why they've decided to do this little favor, so to speak, for me? Donnie, I'm not looking at having to arrest you, am I?" she asked very quietly and demandingly.

"No, I'm afraid for this one, I don't have the pleasure of doing. I've just heard what comes in here from the streets. To tell you the truth, for once, you may actually know more about this case than I do, Rita."

"Donnie, do you have any idea who it might be?"

"No, but I promise you, I will keep you informed as to my findings."

"Thanks Donnie."

"Sure no problem. Hey, why don't you stay, Mario has a mean pot roast tonight, you eat a little, maybe you can enjoy the entertainment..."

"Thank you Donnie, No, I really have to get going. But thank you though."

"Sure, no problem, and don't be such a stranger, okay."

"Okay Donnie, I promise, see you later."

And with that she had left. Not learning anything new, but refreshing a very weird and unusual friendship.

***************************************************

She got into the apartment and it was pitch black. She turned on the light next to the door. She deposited her gun in the drawer, along with her badge. She looked again in the mirror and looked down and noticed it was gone. The picture was gone. It was then she heard some rustling. She turned off the light. She slowly opened the drawer back up, and pulled out her gun. She walked to where the sound was coming from. Scanned the area and looked at the couch. 'Damn, stop being so jumpy,' she thought. She took a heavy sigh of breath and put the gun down on the coffee table. With a small clang, it hit the glass coffee table, she then noticed that Christin had turned again and was now facing her. She looked at her face, trying to picture what features were hers and which ones belonged to Chris. Chris, she then saw the picture. Christin was holding onto it. She carefully pried it away from her daughter's fingers and went to set it on the table and put her gun back in its drawer. She walked into her bedroom, changed out of her clothes into an old U of M sweatshirt and navy sweats. She ten grabbed the comforter that was on the chair in her bedroom and walked out into the living room. She put the comforter on her daughter and walked to the kitchen. She removed the coffee filter, coffee grounds from its perch, and replaced it with a new one. Filled the coffee pot with water and poured it into the machine and hit the timed button. She walked back to her bedroom. Curled under the blankets and cried herself to sleep.

The 911 call had come in at 2:40 a.m. Rita received the call at 2:41 a.m. and by 2:42 she had called Cassy who said she would call Tom. It took Rita 10 minutes to get to the homicide. She flashed her badge and the officer in charge briefed her.

"Do we have a name?" she asked the officer.

"Angela Ramierez."

'Damn, another one, this was interesting in the beginning but damn, this looks like we have a serial killer on our hands,' she said under her breath. "Thank you," she said to the officer. Cassy showed up just as Rita was examining some of the marks and bruises. She briefed Cassy and said to enlighten Tom if he showed up. She told Cassy that she was going home and she would be in at a 'decent hour.'

***************************************************

The morning at home went the same way it had the previous morning with Christin wearing the basketball T-shirt and warm-ups and the same dress pink shirt. Christin reminded Rita that tomorrow night was a game, and had asked that she be there. Then they had the shirt discussion again, and once again Rita decided to drop it.

Once she hit the shop, that's when all hell broke loose. 'When isn't my life,' she thought. The DA had asked her when the two reports, and the one from last night were going to be finished. She and the DA had gotten into an argument about the findings and on the detectives handling the case and on her handling the case as a superior officer, and on the evidence, 'ect.,ect.,ect.,' she thought as the DA left her office.

She walked to the door, opened it and yelled, "Holly, Michael, my office NOW! Cassy, Tom, you two better get in here too."

She had gone over the prelim before the DA had managed to barge into her office earlier in the morning, and now she wanted answers.

"What's happening with your cases, are they connected?" she asked very calmly.

"The only connection that we have lieutenant is the old case of Montoya. But, yeah, I think so," said Tom.

"Looks like they're connected lieutenant." When Holly said that she just wanted to 'Dah, is that really what we have, you know, I would have never have pit the three chord burns behind the ears like that together.' But instead, she just rolled her eyes and said, "Tell me what I don't already know."

She assigned the complete case to Michael and Holly and excused Cassy and Tom. With that Michael and Holly continued with the case and laying out the general suspects, who was in the area, motive, and accessibility.

A half and hour later, they had left her office. 'I wonder if Cassy and Tom are busy, maybe I should have given them this one, one can only hope that this one will be solved,' she thought to herself.

The hours flew past her.. other cases had needed some attending to.. and various other stuff.

A knock on the door startled her from the papers that she was reading.

"Yeah."

"Rita, go home, it's nine o'clock...you were supposed to be out of here three hours ago."

She stretched and looked at her watch. She stood up and picked up the papers and stuffed them into her bag.

"Yeah, Cap, I guess time just got away from me."

"I bet you didn't even eat lunch, did you?"

"You know Harry, you know me way too well, I think."

He kind of let out a chuckle, "Yeah, I guess I do," he said as she shut her door.

"Can I walk you to your car, Cap?"

"No, but I'll walk you to yours, okay?"

"Sure Harry, that would be nice."

That's all that was spoken between them. He walked her to her car, she unlocked the door, and he held the door open for her.

"Rita, go home, hug my goddaughter for me, take a bath, relax, eat, and go to bed."

"Sure will Harry," she said and the door closed after she said it.

***************************************************

She drove home in silence. She was actually getting used to doing this, which started to scare her just a little. She got to the outside of the apartment and noticed the light still on. She looked at her watch, 'Damn, today's the fourteenth,' she muttered under her breath. She took her bag and headed up the stairs. She slowly inserted the key into the lock.

"Hey Christin," she said warily.

"Hi mom," she said, not looking up from the television.

"Christin, I'm sorry about tonight, I know that we were gonna go look for a dress today."

"It's okay, I told John that I'm not really sure if I want to go to Winter Carnival, so it's just as well," she said as she clicked off the remote. Christin walked to the kitchen, rinsed out her bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher.

"Christin, I really am sorry." She knew her daughter was hurting, "Damn, I can't believe I did this again."

"Look, no big deal, okay, are you coming to the game tomorrow?" Christin asked as she bounded up the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm planning on being there, if that's all right." She loudly spoke so that Christin would hear.

"Whatever, goodnight mom," she said quietly.

***************************************************

Rita took a shower, changed into the U of M sweatshirt, sweatpants, and put her hair up in a pony tail. She laid in bed and sat there just staring up at the ceiling, just thinking. 'She tried to figure it out, okay, the game was tomorrow night and Winter Carnival was on Saturday. If she left the station at noon and took a personal day, maybe they could find a dress for her. Then she realized that Christin would have to be at school for her last class because it was with Coach Petik and that he was her health teacher and then she would have a walk through practice. Oh Christin, I'm really sorry, I know you wanted this so bad, and I screwed up.' That was her final thought as she drifted into sleep.

The phone rang.

A second ring.

A third ring. "Dammit, this better be good," she said into the other line.

"There's going to be another murder involved with the Montoya investigation in a half an hour at 6025 Ocean View Drive. Come alone or don't bother coming."

The line was dead. She looked at the clock on her telephone, 1:45 a.m. 'Why can't crimes be done in the daylight, when people are awake,' she thought and then chuckled to herself as she got dressed. 'There would probably be a lot less crime which would mean less work. I can't believe I'm reasoning out homicides.

What was that address? She thought as she threw on a pair of jeans and a plain dark green sweatshirt, and dark green flats.

She left Christin a note and grabbed her gun and her badge an flew out the door.

to be continued...