The summer before their sophomore year, Trixie and Honey began prepping for their future life as detectives. They discussed all that they needed to accomplish down at the Wheeler lake, celebrating the removal of Trixie's twenty-eight stitches.

"We should start to consider what we should know and do once we're in the field," Trixie decided, lounging across the dock on her stomach.

She wore her tousled curls under a New York Yankees baseball cap and a thick coating of sunscreen on her left cheek. Honey knew she normally wouldn't have bothered with either if it hadn't been for the white scar that now ran diagonally across her face, causing that area of her skin to be more sensitive to sunburn. It was a remnant from a sprawling fall after a prolonged foot chase through the alleys of Hawthorne Street.

"Somehow I have an idea you've already started," Honey remarked with a smile, lying on her side with her head propped up on her elbow.

With her free hand, she reached out to gently stroke Trixie's abdomen, knowing she was ticklish there. The action brought Trixie to giggle and pull away.

"Stop that!" she protested. "I'm being serious. If we ever want the Belden and Wheeler Detective Agency to get off the ground, we need to set some goals."

"Okay, okay," Honey said, settling back. "Tell me what we need to do."

"Well, learning to drive is the big one, of course," Trixie began. "I've been practicing with my family's station wagon in the driveway, and Moms and Dad sometimes let me practice with the old pickup in the orchards and fields. But since we're not going to always be driving through farmland when we're pursuing suspects, I think our top priority should be taking our driving to the streets."

"Definitely," Honey agreed fervently. "No more relying on one of the boys when we need a ride."

Trixie groaned at the thought. "I swear, I'll just die if I have to listen to another lecture from Jim whenever we find a new mystery!"

Honey laughed, dipping her head down beneath the brim of her girlfriend's hat to give her a kiss on the lips. "Just wait until we have our detective agency. Then they won't have a leg to stand on, because we'll be the experts on danger, and they'll just be commenters from the peanut gallery."

Trixie snickered. "That's already a good way to describe them, as far as I'm concerned. And while we're on the subject of your family, Honey, do you think that your parents will buy you a car when you turn sixteen? I mean, your folks are pretty rich, after all."

Accustomed to Trixie's lack of tact, Honey didn't take offense at the reference to her family's wealth and took a moment to consider the question.

"I guess I just took it for granted that they would," she confessed. "But they bought Jim a car, Daddy and Mother each have a car, and finances aren't an issue for us. Why wouldn't they buy me a car?"

Trixie nodded, absorbing what Honey told her. "Well, if they ask you about what you'd like beforehand, make sure to get a car that can blend in. A blue or black car in a model that's really common, maybe some kind of Honda or Acura. One that's notdee—notday—"

"Nondescript?" Honey suggested.

"That's it!" Trixie grinned at her and rolled the brief distance across the wooden planks to press up against Honey and give her a quick peck. "You always know right what's on the tip of my tongue."

Unsatisfied with the brief contact, Honey took Trixie's chin in her manicured hand to pull her face close again.

"I should," she murmured into Trixie's ear, delighting in the shiver she caused and also feeling herself flush even as she spoke. It seemed unbelievably seductive, uncharacteristically sensual for her to speak those words, but she didn't regret them. They slipped easily out of her mouth like fingers gliding across velvet and felt just as smooth and soft.

She pressed her lips to Trixie's in a slow, light kiss that she gradually deepened, putting an arm around Trixie's back to pull her as tightly against her as she could, delighting in the warmth from Trixie's firm form pushing against her own. Just as Honey moved to intensify the kiss, though, Trixie broke apart from her.

"Combat practice!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

Honey stared at her quizzically.

"I knew I was forgetting something important," Trixie explained. "If we're going to become detectives, we need to be able to fight our way out of tough situations."

"It would do us good to be able to outmaneuver criminals if they ever have us cornered," Honey mused.

"Not just criminals," Trixie replied enthusiastically. "Biker guys we met during bar brawls! Uncooperative informants! And then there's the people we're going to have beat up in front of other people in order to get the other people to talk! Just think of everyone we're gonna need to fight! We need to be ready."

"You seem quite eager to for violence," Honey observed, somewhat amused.

"We need to be ready, Hon," Trixie returned sagely. "I'll look into us taking some classes at the rec center. Maybe kickboxing or taekwondo."

"One point to consider, though," Honey cautioned her, "is the horses. With Brian and Jim going away to college, we're expected to pitch in more around the stables. We can ask Dan, Di, and Mart to cover for us sometimes, but Regan will get upset with us if we ask them to do it all the time."

"That's right, Regan!" Trixie tapped her finger on her chin. "We should ask him to train us in driving a horse-drawn carriage, just in case. I mean, we've considered car chases, but what about horse chases? And we need to make sure we stay in practice with our jumping, in case a suspect ever tries to flee on horseback and we have to pursue him through the woods. We should really sign up for more horse shows."

Honey chuckled. "I've got to hand it to you. You really do know how to plan. But do you think we're going to have time for any mysteries this year, between learning how to fight and drive cars and carriages?"

"If we find a mystery, we'll make the time," Trixie vowed. She snuggled up next to Honey again. "I'm not going to give up either you, our detective agency, or our mysteries."

Honey put her arms around Trixie, relaxing against her in turn. "Glad to hear it." She found one of Trixie's sandy curls that had escaped from her baseball cap and gave it a gentle tug. "Thanks for all your efforts, Trix. It means a lot to me that you'd do so much to keep us together."

Trixie kissed her on the cheek. "Not a problem, Hon. Not a problem."