Taking a long drag on his cigarette, Gary Bedford sat on the steps of the Rotunda at the Main Street Gardens in Bairnsdale. Between assignments, his favourite past time was to come to these gardens and watch the local talent.

Women didn't seem to go much for cops. And undercover cops? That was a whole different story. Gone for weeks on end depending on the assignment, finding yourself in dangerous or life threatening situations; chicks just don't go for it.

Naturally there had been the occasional girlfriend, but they never seemed to work out. They just didn't like his life-style. And when they found out his two brothers were private investigators, that was the absolute end.

A family fraught with danger ­- that's what one girl told him -- so at thirty-two, Gary was still single and not entirely unhappy about the situation. Life as an undercover cop was pretty tough.

Smoke drifted from his cigarette as Gary watched a small girl running along the lush grass, the object of his attention close on her heels. The bountiful flowerbeds scattered amongst the trees providing a colourful backdrop, he looked the young woman over more thoroughly as she came toward him.

Her long brown hair made her skin appear pale, her above average height accentuated by her long legs. As the wind came up, her white over-shirt flapped open in the wind, revealing her scarlet tank top and black bike shorts.

Families were picnicking, children playing and dogs barking, adults were talking or just relaxing; Gary had seen it all before, but today was oblivious as he watched her hair blow into dishevelment in the warm breeze.

He stubbed out his half smoked cigarette on the step, stood up then walked down the few steps from the Rotunda, stepping out onto the grass.

"Oh boy," Gary scolded himself as he collided heavily with her. She was breathless ­- the wind had been knocked out of her by the impact. She grabbed at his shirtfront trying to get her balance. How could he have been so damned thoughtless?

The object of his attention scowling at Gary, he reached out and tried to steady her but she flicked his hands away. He watched helplessly as she bent forward, her hands on her knees and still gasping for air.

He silently observed as her eyes began to scan his body. From experience, Gary knew the first thing she'd notice would be his massive height. Six foot five ­ far from ordinary. He reached up and ran his hand over his chin. Goddamn it! He hadn't shaved this morning - today, of all days. At least he'd tied his hair back in a ponytail.

She stared into his eyes, his deep brown eyes. Hers were wide with rage. Her eyes slid to his open denim shirt, then lingered on his hair-covered chest. After settling on his flat belly, they drifted to his crotch. Goddamn her -- she was checking out his... Nah, she wouldn't do that -­ would she?

Her appraisal continued on his jeans -- his threadbare jeans. Gary groaned inwardly. Why did he have to dress like a slob on his days off? At least he was wearing his cowboy boots.

Gary looked down. Oh God, thongs!

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