Deputy Duty

The rough road was, understandably, rough on an already dying car. The electric on the damn thing gives out every now and then, when and where it wants to just up and get gone.

"Oh, yeah, nice, right when it really starts pouring." I muttered to myself as a car with brilliantly irritatingly glaringly outright garish headlights pulled out behind me. This weather? My car? My general driving? Cooked. Absolutely cooked. What luck it would have been if those blinding headlights were in front of me - my own personal guiding cop lighthouses.

And predictably, all of a sudden flashing red and blue joined the offensive fluorescent white light.

"Yeah, yeah, let's hope I don't die just pulling over. Don't make me get out in this weather. I'm wearing white, and it's after Labor Day." Bumping awkwardly up and down in my beater for some reason, I flip my hazards on and let myself slowly, slowly, attempt to roll to a gentle stop on the side of the road.

"Oh, okay." I respond to feeling my right side wheels slip off the pavement, high-pointing my car. "I'm also going to have to look like I shouldn't have a driver's license. Cool. Okay." I pop my beater baby in park, knowing she'd stay in place regardless of gear, 'position we were in.

The policeman takes forever to actually exit his vehicle. I wonder if the rain makes it harder to read my dirty ass license plate. I don't even know why I was pulled over in the first place. As soon as that train of thought enters my mind, the policeman exits his vehicle holding a 'matches-the-headlights' flashlight in his left hand and an umbrella in his right.

I lower my window as he approaches my driver side, ready to play polite society damsel in distress.

"Good evening, miss, do you have any idea why I pulled you over tonight? If you do not, I'd really like to tell you." Putting the flashlight to the side, I was finally able to focus on his appearance.

Oh, God. I wanna play damsel in mistress - no ring! Girlfriend?

I couldn't help the thoughts entering my mind as I took in the familiar swank, stature, gentle suave attitude, and built chest with arms to match. Devastating. Just devastatingly, paralysis-inducing beauty.

"No, miss, I do not; I'd really like you to tell me why, too." I can't help but spit out as my face flushes red, noticing the officer's face had been a bit red from the jump. Cat and mouse from the start!? How!?

The officer looked stunned and shocked. Uh, not the intended reaction. Oh, God, I said miss.

"Miss, please step out of the car and walk in a straight line." The officer said with a stern face, and a deep, flat voice. I misjudged. Now I'm in deep shit. Okay, I'm not inebriated in any way, shape, or form.

I open my door, and step out. Immediately, the officer starts towards me and I flinch instinctively, falling back into my car - nearly, as some strong, still familiar, I swear, arms catch me. Well, they catch me, but we both fall back against the car. Stunned, I realize the officer was going to hold his umbrella above me as I did the walk. I am not making myself look good here at all, and I cannot stop. I'm not really wrong often, not on this.

As our eyes meet - my upper chest area is against his chest area. Don't say anything, let him, he's an officer. Oh, God, what if he can't?

He immediately steps back.

"I apologize - I was going to keep you dry during the walk. Your... shirt is see through. I pulled you over because your left rear break light is out, it looks like you have two flat tires, and now I'm gonna need a breathalyze real quick, alright? It's the least invasive way." Reaching into his back pocket, he produces a breathalyzer.

Oh, nice. He had it handy. I drive so well.

I know how this goes, and I blow hard, and long, taking care my face is still pretty during. I can't hold it.

"So, Officer Attractive, it's not also Officer Butch?"

He stares at the sober results, and then slowly up at me.

"How?"

"Oh, honey, I'd know my kind of man anywhere."

"To be clear - what kind of man is that?"

"The one whose name usually ain't Butch, but it gets his attention the same way a dog whistle does a do."

"..."

"...The one that doesn't write me a ticket?"

He seems stunned.

"Miss, I wasn't going to write you a ticket. I was going to see if you needed a ride home. I was going to inform you your vehicle is genuinely unsafe to operate. It would be a public safety concern if I let you get home in your car."

"Oh, what the fuck, no more doublespeak flirting - you dyke or no? If not, I'm really not interested, Mr. Miss Officer Attractive." I fully break the ice and the lesbian fourth wall. Oh, my God. They're almost all like this because that's just being respectful.

"Oh, God, yeah, no, yes, I'm Butch, I'm Dyke, I just - how? Really?" He is truly stunned. How cute.

"Swagger, honey." I smile warmly at him. He needs to be made aware, he must be new - he's going to get just eaten up if he don't wisen up.

"Swagger is helping?" He is even more stunned.

"...Yeah, we'll go with that." Chivalry, dumbass, yeah. Swagger, game, play, whatever, come chase this tail, holy shit how much easier can I make it? "So... I'm not leaving my car. I'm a lady? I'm not like, a car lesbian? How long-"

"-about thirty minutes, then when my two queer handymen show up, it will take them about thirty minutes." He interrupts, sliding his arm gently, slowly, waiting every inch for a sign of 'I want this', making me want him more, oh my God, yes, someone who knows what good foreplay is! Wow! And I just realized he's way out of my league! Cool! How do I even go about this?

Oh, honey, he showed me how to go about all of that.

What a woman!