INT. ANNE’S APARTMENT–NIGHT

Remy is stretched out lengthwise on the couch, gazing at the ceiling. Anne is sitting at the table, reading the report. She finishes the report, looks over at Remy with somewhat new eyes–she’s impressed. 

ANNE
I’m impressed by all the
evidence you’ve managed to
accumulate in so short a time.
You’re doing a really thorough job.

Remy laughs, stands, starts toward where she sits behind the table.

REMY
What did you think I’d do?
A really lousy job?

ANNE
No, I didn’t mean…

REMY (moving closer)
Why don’t you like me, Anne…?

ANNE (nonplussed)
What?…I do…I do like you.

REMY
Why don’t you trust me, then?

She’s speechless for a second. Remy plants his hand on the table, leans toward her.

REMY
Do you think I’m a rotten, don’t,
don’t-give-a-shit, dishonest, dirty,
cop, Anne? Is that what you think of me?

He’s leaning very close now. She looks up into his eyes.

ANNE
(sorry she thought all those things)
No, no…I do trust you, I do…

They kiss.

INT. ANNE’S BEDROOM–NIGHT

Anne’s and Remy’s beepers lie side by side not he night table. Anne and Remy are kissing passionately, thrashing around under the covers. Suddenly she twists away from him.

ANNE
I’m sorry. I’m too nervous.
I can’t relax.

REMY
Hey, take it easy.

ANNE
I’m so embarrassed.

REMY
It’s all right, there’s no hurry.

He slides close to her and strokes her back.

ANNE
It’s no use.

REMY
Just relax, close your eyes,
don’t pay attention to me.

And Remy moves his hand under the covers to stroke, gently, lower and lower down her front. We can see nothing under the covers except the tiniest motions of her fingers.

ANNE
Stop that.

She says it without conviction and he doesn’t stop. There’s a long moment of silence and no movement except for his fingers’ tiny motions. Then, very slowly, her hips begin to move to match his rhythm., then gradually take on an insistent rhythm of their own.

Now Anne makes a series of small sounds, short, tight, little cries which she repeats over and over again and now louder and louder as she hits her orgasm. 

Remy’s hands guide her body into a good angle and he enters her.

CLOSE ON ANNE

Her face pressed against the bed. She cries out again and agin.

A beeper goes off from the night table. They both automatically sit up.

ANNE
Yours or mine?

REMY
Mine.
(He shuts of the beeper and dials rapidly)
You better have a goddamn good reason
for paging me.
(a beat)
All right, slow down.

He hangs up the phone and starts to get dressed. 

ANNE
What is it?

REMY
Triple murder in Storyville.

ANNE
Oh, it doesn’t matter. I never had
much luck with sex, anyway.

REMY
Your luck just might be changing, chere.

ANNE
How long does it take to go to a murder?

REMY
Couple of hours at least.

ANNE
Come back.

REMY
You sure?

ANNE
I’m sure.