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Black Desert Nights
By JWS3
Published August 2003

Editor's note: JWS3 has written the following article in a style of American English that is absolutely correct for the genre and subject matter. Some of the words herein may not be common English, but they are all real and in common use in the United States, especially among law enforcement personnel etc. All alternative spellings, capitalization and abbreviations are also legitimate and in common use. So there is no need to ask us to correct anything, okay?

It was dark that one night and working the graveyard shift only enhanced the blackness of it. If it's possible to be bored out of your mind when you are patrolling a open stretch of asphalt in the middle of nowhere, the Arizona desert will make the night linger forever.

I was out there that night. And damn, can I remember it! I'd just pulled onto the side of the road, sitting alone, trying to write out and complete "important" paperwork, that I was behind on; Way, way, behind on according to my supervisor. Well, don't we all fudge and put off paperwork at times?

I had all my cruiser's lights' shutdown, each and every one of them, all except for the silver and very handy gooseneck lamp that I'd plugged into my cigarette lighter. I didn't want to lose any night vision as I wrote out the boring jargon that I was so miserably late in submitting. I had my engine off, figured it was senseless to waste the taxpayers gas, doing nothing; I was already wasting their time and money just sitting there doing what I was doing; Absofuckinglutely nothing of value. Like I said, I was bored.

I guess that one aspect of my being there was always a "fever" factor… Black and White Fever is the trade name we use. People tend to get edgy and nervous when they see a cruiser parked or moving. It's something about always looking over their shoulder and sweating. It's guilt I think, as do all my bro's. We can have a way of making the blind see at times. I suppose that on a night like this if any should see me sitting there in the dark as they passed by, I would see the tell-tale flash of the brake lamps as they pronounced their own ignorance to me via hitting the brakes and slowing down. I'm not a hard ass; I give most folks a break when I'm on duty. Shit, I speed myself, so who am I to not understand the predicament they are facing? Between you and me, I hate getting pulled over too. And no, I haven't got ticketed for your information.

Anyway, my nose up to here with sheer boredom, I diligently wrote out what I needed. I had the cruiser mate propped up on the steering wheel and my pen would draw diagrams as best I could when I filled in the three, or was it four, minor PI accidents I'd responded to in the past day. When I would be at a loss for a word or a term, I'd either click my ballpoint, or suck on its barrel, careful not to get the pen tip too wet. My window was open so what little breeze the night pushed over the empty sand and cacti would be granted entrance to my stale smelling car and rapidly perspiring me. My vest was pinching my waist right above the gun belt and I know my uniform didn't look as sharp as I did when I stood at roll call either. Heck, who was really to look at a dark uniform in the middle of a night, anyway? I felt every inch of that constricting trap that I was sitting in. I was hot, hungry and a bit agitated. Since being assigned here and away from a woman's touch, I was very, well… "Needing it bad," Trouble was, with my work schedule; I couldn't get any when I wanted it.

God, you should see the babes I've pulled over; then again, you should see the ones I've not, too. Oh well, that's the life I was in. I was sitting there looking up every ten to twenty seconds, making sure that no predator was trying to catch me off guard. Hell, even the radio didn't feel like keeping me company. The channel was unusually quiet that night. The other officers were being assigned all the good shit the few times I'd monitored it. All I got was the shit hole to look at, and was getting slowly butt fucked in the process.

If I try to remember how that night became different, I'd have to say it started out then and there as a roar of an engine, pushing the silence forward. Yeah, that would be a good description of the event that would broaden my shift and make a moment pass and hopefully make it live again in the future. I sure hope that she'll pass by me again.

The engine roar of her Trans-Am was the first clue to my ears that something was to happen; what? I'll tell you. And let's keep it just between you and me, huh? There are some brother and sister officers at the station would NEVER believe it. Hell, I hardly believe myself… and I was there.

After hearing the air break wind as that sleek arrow of a motor vehicle shot by me, I could see my KR-12 radar flash out in screaming red, "103" "103." Shit! That car was racing alone! Well, even I appreciate a good chase to dispel boredom. I'm proud of my driving skills and I'd show that manic what I knew about speeding. I'll tell you this too; I know one helluva lot more about it then the speeder does. I even know about what happens to jerks that don't see me as they zip on by. You bet I do! This is one time I really felt the all get out to give out. I adjusted my mental attitude and I went in pursuit.

Screw calling this one in to Dispatch.
I can handle speeders on my turf with ease. 'Sides, the others would want to roll on a "Assist Officer" call due to my location out in the boonies. Those two man units we run in the city? Well, it's a misnomer 'cuz a couple of those units are partnered by members of the opposite sex sitting, alongside a member of her opposite sex. We all know that there're times when a partner may become a true "partner," 'specially when they leave the city and dash of towards the silent black desert to "assist" a fellow officer. I 'spose it's the magic that the desert possesses that brings out the intimacy and the "call of the wild" between partners, ya think?

Well, there was no way. Nope. Not that night. There was no way; and I didn't want that. I just wanted the speed demon tamed alone, by me, and I had the whip and the fire to do it. The clipboard being cast aside, I fired up my cruiser and took off, displacing the sand like a bull getting ready to charge. I'd thought of activating the lights then, but recanted and decided not too. It'd been a while since I'd rolled along a road at high speed, running dark and quiet. This demon deserved my very best performance and I wanted to challenge my night pursuit driving skills. I'd engage the pretty lights people hate when I was on his tail, giving him a good fucking jolt. I smiled and I thought that would be poetic justice, just a good tingle of fear to wake his brain dead mind up.

Boy was I way off the mark.

I was flying with the wind. The Crown Vic that I was assigned had one sure of a beautiful performance engine and Ford Motor had built mine up right. Most pursuits don't really last that entirely long. The speeder or the person that's tying to get away is mistaken if they think that they can out-run a police car. Hell, we know the sector we're in and we have an in-depth knowledge of two small and often overlooked items; the radio and our cooling system. Ours are heavy-duty; most people don't even realize that their car will start to overheat during a pursuit.
Ask yourself this; "When was the last time I checked my radiator coolant?"
See what I mean? You haven't, did you? Nope. You feel safe knowing that some pimple faced kid at the service garage where you got your last oil change, wiped his hands on a rag before handing you the bill and told you it was filled to the proper level, even pointing to the computerized printout out that backed up his claim. Kind of makes you wonder, huh? Heck, even given a properly maintained radiator, you're still going to overheat after a while and when that happens you pull over, right? So, you overheat in a high speed flee from us what do you think happens? Well… when that happens my friend, your cooling systems revolts in a most ugly manner. It busts. Ours doesn't; ours are built to withstand the heat of the hunt. When their cooling system goes, we've got 'em. My engine wasn't even straining as I closed the distance to that speeder. My eyes were straining a lot as I booked along, though.

If you've ever driven in the dark, you have to keep your eyes wide open and always peering ahead. It's a bad thing to look into your rear view mirror, even for the tiniest fraction of a second. A vehicle coming up from behind, or out of a side road can devastate your night vision and that would not be a good thing to have happen.

This was one time when I was grateful that I was maneuvering alone on an empty road. My only concern for safety was the stray night critters that would wander onto the highway and get caught, frozen-caught , in my rush. I'd never have time to see them. I tried not to concentrate that much on that happening though. I figured that by the time I saw one, it'd just be a slop of mess; that speeder ahead of me would make a violent splatter of it ~ before I rolled over top of what once was a furry little animal; Now just food for the vultures and an ugly eyesore for the day motorists I reckon.

Every now and then my eyes would do a flash-dart to my LED speedometer. I saw the green numerals climbing up the ladder as the Vic's engine increased its whine and my heart rate duplicated its pounding. The throbbing amplified noises to my ears and temples;
Whatta rush!
That engine and I were attached that night. I smiled. I had a hot feeling as my driving skills became more focused. I wondered just how many miles I was tearing up and shredding behind me. I kind of hoped that the chase would last, for I was going to be the victor in a race I'd know I would win.
I could start to see the off violet shading of the demons' taillights. I smiled a bit wider.
Almost there, almost gotcha! I thought.

Gone was the distraction of the vest's entrapment. No longer did I sweat from the enclosure of the humid car. The night breeze that was only a puff of air as I'd sat there doing the paperwork was now no more. It howled like a banshee and felt like a shout of winter as it slapped my face with an invisible and forceful open palm.

Less than a third of a mile and closing like a homing torpedo I saw the lights of the drivers' speed-machine becoming larger. I could just begin to make out the faint glow of the license plate number as I drank the sweet distance inside of my anxious mind. One-sixth of a mile in distance and my right hand moved to the console between the seats, hovering above the rocker switches that would brighten up the lonely night sky and bleat to its ears the sound of importance. I could feel my elbow tapping against the butt of my holstered automatic.
It felt righteous. My foot was a part of the Fords firewall now and it was all I could do to hope my boots could withstand the heat of the massive flame that the engine held inside of its mechanisms.

"BUSTED!"" I yelled out to myself.
I made the night scream out "Rape!" when the siren and light bar yelped and began to strobe. I could see that my in-car video system unit was activated and recording just as soon as the light bar was powered up. The soft and pale green tint of the Kustom Eyewitness TV Camera would be recording the events from here on out to give credence to the upcoming sequence I was to undertake. "One Eye-No Lie," I called it. My unit was hanging from the padded headliner to the right of my rear view mirror.
In a way I 'spose, I took comfort in the fact that it was there and operating. Should anything unexpected happen to me, like say, I got killed or something more trivial, it would capture my attacker and at least show my bro's what had occurred.

Okay, Okay… 'nuff said about the morbid stuff. Anyway, I'd pierced the night and I knew that the driver would be placed in a moment of spatial disorientation, so I eased off of the accelerator and had my foot ready to apply controlled braking. I didn't want my car kissing his ass end.
It's Christmas time!
And yet, yet the driver didn't want any presents. That TA just kept booking like nothing in the world mattered and I felt ignored.
"Sonauvabitch!" My curse was made to myself and then it was gone, carried out the window and lost behind me on the wind. Now, I thought, it was time to speak up and given the freight train sound of the air rushing at me, I had to talk louder to be heard over it. I unhooked the microphone from the clip and my finger hit the PA system selector.

"Driver! Decrease your speed and pull your car to the right shoulder of the road."
There was still no change in the forward motion of that idiots' vehicle.
"Shit," I sputtered out and thankful that I'd released the push-to-talk on the microphone before I did. Once again I tried.

"Driver, pull your vehicle to the right and come to a stop."
Nope, shit-for-brains was either deaf in one ear and couldn't remember where he put the other ear after shaving or just plain old fashioned dumb.

Procedure called for the phrase to be repeated in Spanish, so I did. "Conductor, disminuya su velocidad y maneje su carro hasta la acera derecha de la carretera."
I repeated the second warning, my patience becoming very empty.
"Conductor, dirigase con su vehiculo hacia la derecha y detengase."
I was really on the verge of yelling into that mic. This had gone on a bit too much. Suppressing the urge to become mad and have it show on my voice, to the driver or the all-hearing vast desert, I threw the mic to the console and placed both hands on the wheel. My grip was glued and I could feel the moisture beginning to coat my palms. Those small black pieces of grimy dirt that will cling to a stained steering wheel felt like ridged-back mountains and I could feel every one of them as I flexed my fingers to ease the strain of my grip.

Still the Trans-Am kept plowing the air before us. Now I was really pissed. I stayed pissed and remained at a heightened tensioned state until the TA finally did as I ordered, or the driver, did as I'd ordered at last, after about two more ass tingling miles down the road.
I began to reconsider my earlier decision in not informing dispatch of what the hell I was doing. I hoped that this operator was not a wanted fugitive---a spooked felon. I ran over the checklist in my head, preparing myself for the worst. Law abiding citizens, those with nothing to hide from us, they stop. The bad ones don't. Guilt flees.
Already I had enough skinny on this character to charge him with Alluding a Peace Officer, and a whole lots more little bite-you-in-the-ass stuff. I'm just glad my sergeant had issued me a brand new citation book at roll call.
I knew it'd be just the ticket for this particular citizen.

I began controlled braking then and as I slowed, my heart still accelerated with vapid speed. The adrenaline rush that I was feeling was going to carry way into the morning. Looking at my watch and seeing it was near midnight, I halted the car and took a deep breath to force clear-headedness and to try to get the edge I was going to need.

Now I could see the vapor trails of dusty air blowing off of the graceful air curve of the rear spoiler of that classic machine. Surreal and beckoning, I thought, seeing it caught in the flashes of the strobes, for it took on the ghostly image of a hazy smoke, one that forced you to look at it and attempt to grasp at it, wanting to inhale its alluring scent.

My fingers went back to the black plastic console and I illuminated the rear and surrounding area with my Take Down lights and killed the phaser and warble siren with a shaky finger. In my tremoring way, I almost pushed the Alley Lights on when I did. That would have been great, exit my car and right away get shot as I was light up by sideways bulbs. No way Jose! Not this kid!
Still fighting for calm, I made the mic come to my lips. I decreased the volume and speaker output of the PA and started what was to be a long traffic stop; Felony style, to be safe. The tinted windows in the rear didn't allow me to see just exactly how many occupied the car.

I assumed the worst. I had too.

"DRIVER. SHUT OFF YOUR ENGINE. REMOVE THE KEYS FROM THE IGNITION. ROLL DOWN YOUR WINDOW. THROW THE KEYS OUT OF THE WINDOW AND PLACE BOTH HANDS OUT OF THE WINDOW. DO NOT MOVE. RIGHT FRONT SEAT PASSENGER, ROLL DOWN YOUR WINDOW AND PLACE BOTH HANDS OUTSIDE THE CAR. DO NOT MOVE. BACK SEAT PASSENGERS, PLACE YOUR HANDS ON THE TOPS OF YOUR HEAD AND DO NOT MOVE."

I grunted out loud in shocked surprise when the door flew open and the foxiest woman I've EVER seen leapt out of the car like a gazelle clearing a fallen tree.

Is my shotgun loaded? Shit! No time for it now!

Instinctively, my hand reached for my pistol as I ducked for hard cover, more from training than from the sheer sexiness of her legs and looks.

"Yea though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow… God I wanna make love to her… of Death, I will…Damn, what a fox! … fear no evil, for Thou art… Holy shit! … those legs! …with me…"

I had taken a firing grip on my automatic and had released the first of the two of my retention devices on my holster as I became one with the console. I wouldn't remember smacking my chin on the edge of it until late the following day. Standing there as she was, she reflected the lights flashing and the stark brightness that the takedowns and my wigwags' had placed on her. Behind her was only a backdrop of somber black. The scene looked like that of an obscure and surrealistic representation of an insane genius, who tried to paint when he was drunk and sexually excited.

She was splashed onto my mind and I had an eyeful. A white halter-top, 'Breezy looking', black gym shorts, long red hair, no shoes. I needed to look at her again, and I used the excuse to tell myself that I needed to see if anyone else was approaching my unit. I fumbled for the mic and was about to place a call into dispatch, when I popped back up.

She was alone-well, alone if you didn't count my being there. My heart was a new form of anatomy by now. I knew it was still in my chest, for I felt it there, trip hammering away. It was also a part of my throat and mouth too. I could actually taste it and it didn't taste half-bad.

The bad part was that I could also feel my back teeth floating along with the heart flavor.
Yeah, I had to take a leak and now wasn't the most ideal time to think of it, but the taste I had as it hung there and splashed around, also caused my eyeballs to bob and float too. I was becoming transfixed and that my friend isn't a good series of combinations.

"Officer?" Her voice paid me a compliment in the way she called out.
"DON'T MOVE!" was all I could say with my eyes moving around her and the area, looking for the that elusive hidden danger that you never see coming to assault you.
Shit. This wasn't a normal thing that was going on here. I knew that she posed no real great physical threat, but caution was mandatory and horniness was running a bit neck-and-neck along side of Officer Survival Training. I couldn't see any furtive movements or anything that remotely looked other than ordinary-if you can say her standing there in the night, her hand on the lift-back of her car was ordinary.
Yes I was shaking and yes, I'll even admit to holding my penis with my free hand to squelch the urge to relieve half the taste in my mouth and drain off the liquid that was suspending my fishing bobber-like eyeballs, but that's as far as I'll go, okay?
I mean, forchrissakes, if you were to be placed in that situation, I'd like to see you hold your water.

I regained control of my faculties rapidly and once again, became the consummate professional that I am. I opened my door and stepped out of my boring world and cruiser and stepped into her life. Or perhaps it's a more accurate description to say that she detained me in hers for a while…

A very long while.

I never would have though, not in an entire tour of a career-would I have thought---that detention on a barren section of blacktop could be so enjoyable. And in reality, it was me that would become the detainee. I would have thanked my Lucky Star then, but there were so damned many stars out that night and it seemed to me that each of them were in my eyes. I just couldn't find the star I needed to thank.

Let me ask you something. What would you do in a situation like this? I mean, you are there and she is there, and well…You know? In my experience when most people are caught in the glare of strobes and bright lights, they tend to shield their eyes from the blinding effect. Not her though. No… No she just stood there, brazenly and defiant, staring back into my lights, moving her head to get a better view of me as I was exiting my cruiser. I remember those eyes of hers as I locked onto them with my own….

"Stop! Ma'am, stay exactly where you are and do not move!," I tried to summon up my best and most command-authoritative, "Think Twice Before Screwing With Me," voice that I could… without choking myself on her looks. It was difficult though.

"Officer, what's the problem?" She walked towards me, treading the pavement lightly like a cheetah looking for a morsel. My takedowns only made her teeth appear more white…and dangerous. I felt more than a chill cover my arms and neck on that warm night.
Shit, I'm trembling. Not good guy, not too very fuckin' good.
Defensive Tactics training says that I had three choices in this situation. She was within my gap and my reaction time was dwindling. I could advance and close the distance, move bassackwards and increase the distance, thus gaining a few life-saving seconds should I need it or, I could stand there and do not a goddamned thing.
DUH!

"Don't move." I said it with a sharp razor edge, very clearly, as I used my car door as a cover barrier.
I stood there. Why? I don't know. I just did. Lucky for me that my tone of voice worked on her. She kind of stopped that feline predator movement and placed her hands on her hips and just looked at me as if she was in a state of confusion.
"Move back towards the rear of your car and keep your hands were I can see them."
Ain't nothing like training to bring one back to alertness. I was the one who was supposed to be in control of this situation, not her. She faced to her left and moved to the trunk …Thank God!
I never actually thought I was really in dire trouble from her. That comment I made about her smile and walk? Yeah, she would a pounced if she had the chance I think, but she was a smart one this gal. She ambushed me later when I wasn't looking.

Placing her hands where there were in the open helped out a lot. She just leaned against the lift-back and waited for me to make the next move. I had to get my citation book and cruiser mate from the front seat and start the license-registration-insurance drill with her now.

"Do I get a ticket?" Those eyes of hers light up again and those teeth were still apparent behind her demure grin as she spoke. I ignored her with my listening, but not with my hearing and eyes as I reached across the seat and grabbed the instrument of punishment to the guilty and the lawless… The clipboard.
"Ma'am, I'll need to see your drivers license, vehicle registration and proof of insurance, please." I spoke as I walked carefully towards her. I was still very much observant of keeping my distance… Reactionary gap, you know. My eyes never left her as I brought out my ballpoint and made ready the ticket book.
"They're in the car officer… in my handbag. May I get them?" She kind of smiled as she said that.

Shit. I knew that.

"Yes. Don't play any games though. If I EVEN think I'm in danger…" I let the sentence hang. She knew what I was talking about, because her eyes told me she did and those orbs paid a glancing look to my hand that was grasping my sidearm. She nodded and with mild seductive walk, moved back to the front of the TA.

Damn what legs…'Nice ass too.

Placing that fine butt of hers on the seat and letting those legs hang outside of her door, she twisted and got the items I'd need. I couldn't help but notice as her gym trunks kind of went up a bit and showed the night more thigh. Once she had her license and papers in hand, she looked up at me and signaled that she was going to step out of the car.
Me… I just stood there. I couldn't really do anything else because her eyes told me just to stand there, so I did… plain and simple. I really should have run the plate by using my prep radio at that time, seeing as how I didn't when I was chasing after her, but I could do that later as I wrote out the citation.
My safety comes first to me and when I was after her, I really didn't have one whole helluva lot of time to drive, and run a plate that I knew would come up clean as a virgin's pus… Well, you get the picture.

I already had my impression of her in my mind. Society chick, rich, bored, liked to drink and speed. .'Lives in Scottsdale or a secluded section of the more ritzy places we all know exists but don't get the attention… Yeah. I'd seen the type before, but this one, this one was different in some way. I shrugged it off and refocused on her hands.

Time for me to start the inquisition. "Do you know why I stopped you?"
Inwardly I was laughing. I've heard some really great excuses before and all of them classics.
Let's see Ms Society talk her way outta this one.

"'Probably because I was doing one-hundred and forty-five in a seventy-five zone at night on a dark and lonely desert road?" She said.
Smart-ass! I thought to myself.
The look that she was sending me was one of mild humor and mischievous in one amused facial expression, but there was an honest quality in her tone of voice. I reached forward and took her documents from her hand. The old trick of repeating back the last sentence in the form of a question to make a person provide more detail was called for.
"One-forty-five?" I questioned. I knew that her Pontiac was capable of doing at least one fifty, 'cuz a buddy of mine has one and he too pushes the envelope of its performance at times. He calls his TA a "pick up" and for the longest time, until I found out why he does, the name confused the shit outta me. Not knowing my buddy, I'll give you a hint to his car's moniker, okay? He doesn't use his "pick up" for work, he's not employed in the construction occupations but he feels the need to transport certain material to assist him in laying pipe. Some guy, huh? We should all be so lucky, no?

Great mug shot … looks good. I'd quickly glanced at her drivers license.
"Faster?" Was the word she shot back. She seemed to know the game.
'Now she's questioning me. Her grin was getting a little too friendly and I was having a hard time in remembering just what to do next.
"I had you clocked at one hundred and three," I said in a hazy voice as I flipped her driver's license under the clip on my board, "but that was only at the point you'd passed by me, miles back from here."
I'd gestured my head over my right shoulder. Overheard, the dull noise of a jet, miles away from where she and I were, rolled down to us. I'm pretty she that she heard it before me for some reason. By the looks of her, her hearing was better than mine was. She seemed to stand up in slow motion and I don't even remember her actually getting up.
I'm getting' too old, I thought to myself and I tried extra hard to concentrate on my job as she propped her back against the roof of her car and learned back on it. The breezed loved her more than it did me for her hair was being cooled and caressed by it, mine wasn't.
That's strange. I thought to myself, seeing the wind rouse her long red hair.

"My radar is offset a fraction. You may have been doing one hundred and ten then flying past me." (All right, I'm a softy at heart. The secret is out; I give you ten miles and hour over the limit on a bad day. Why a bad day, you ask? Well, if I'm in a bad mood, I don't feel like stopping cars and issuing tickets; so now you know.)
"Damn," she swore, "and here I thought I was going to beat my record." I could actually have sworn to myself that she was pouting for not going faster and finding out about it. The registration wasn't phonied and the validation on the insurance was good. I just needed to run her and this fire breathing speed sled through the computer. We have the PC Mobile laptops in each unit, but I never use them a lot, preferring to have the Dispatcher earn his paycheck and sort of "stick it" back to the department where they stuck me for sticking me out here in this rectum of the earth. Serves 'em right, huh?
"Why were you going so fast?" Was the next thing that came out of my mouth. Hey, I was concentrating.
"Do you want my honest answer?" She smiled and wiggled a bit as she asked it.
Damn! Those teeth!
I could feel that this was going to be longer than I expected. I played dumb. Sometimes even that works and the way that she was effecting me, it wasn't that far from the truth either.
"Excuse me?" I replied.

"You asked me why I was going so fast. I asked you if you wanted my honest answer." Those teeth of hers never left my eyes as she spoke.
Watch her hands guy… Look at those han.... Those ...hand …Those teeth…Those teeth!
Now I was really having difficulty with my heart rate and speech. The words were there; they were just lagging a little. Well, okay, a lot. I could feel the body armor begin cinching again and the sweat trickle between my it and my skin. 'Seems as if my inner ear began to tell my brain to start messing with my equilibrium too about that time.
"Uh… yes, why so fast?" I said, my head in a fog.
Why was I so slow?
She stood a tad more upright and even then at her height, she looked bold. Her brows squinted and she gave me her answer-An answer that I knew she pulled off the top of her gorgeous head of hers.
"Well," she began, and smiled brightly in the night, "for three reasons, I 'spose. I wanted to see if I could break my all time record, which according to you I didn't." she shot a gaze to the KR-12 radar and the video camera mounted inside my window, "and I am hungry."

Hey, even not being able to properly balance myself and see straight, I still knew how to count. My focus was shifting and I was having to really force myself to squelch that cold feeling you get when everything seems to be in order and yet you're aware it's not and can't do a damned thing about it. The tinny speaker squawked out from my prep radio on my side, and its muted words told me that somewhere, someone was being assigned a good call. 'Lucky fucker.
"That's only two reasons." I told her.
She placed her hands on the frame of the half-opened door and it's edge while she flexed her legs and shuffled a bit more. To me, it was as if she was "flowing" as she moved. She wasn't being hostile I felt, but rather I had the deep entrenched gut feeling that she was making herself comfortable. I quickly shook my head from side-to-side to clear my brain fog.
Snap outta it! I was desperately chiding myself, trying to focus on reality.
"Oh, yeah, right… The third reason. I am certain that I didn't slow down because I didn't see you sitting there and even if I did…"
Her small yet mock-filled laugh at the end got me. Her teeth and her eyes had had me for a while though. That did it. Right then and there I seemed to have lost two things; my patience and my temper. I said to myself, "To hell with the patience and the hell with the ticket too. She's going to county lock up."
In that moment I had regained my clarity; in that moment only. What happened next, seemed as a dream. 'Stainless bracelet time, Ms. Society. I began reaching to the right side of my duty belt for the S&W Model 300 hinge cuffs in my pouch.
I figured that I would cuff and frisk as procedure mandated, toss her into the rear of the cruiser, conduct a vehicle search and throw impound sticker on her front and rear windows. Once all that neat order of items was accomplished, I was going do more paperwork.

You know something? In a weird sort of way I really felt bad for all those dykes in lock up once she graced that hallowed sanctuary. She was a looker, I tell ya. A real looker, this woman.

"Move to the rear of your vehicle, keep your hands in plain view and then place them on the trunk." My voice was commanding and forceful. Automatically I increased the gap by stepping backwards and tried to retain the balance that I felt being devoured away from me by dizziness. She just nodded and slowly complied; she spoke as she walked.
"Oooo, am I being placed under arrest officer?" She said it in a jeering-like manner.
"Yes. Place your hands on the trunk and do as I tell you to do." I was going to do this one by the book. I didn't need the hassle of a sexual abuse charge on my record. I fought the nausea I felt swimming up in my stomach and moving into my throat.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I think I wobbled a bit and shook as she walked by me, beyond arms distance but still close enough to leap toward me. I never did really forget her cat-like moves when she first walked toward my unit.
"Are you okay officer?" Her voice was soft and mellow… Refreshing even. I began to feel very cool standing out off the edge of that warm pavement.
She knew something was wrong with me. I tried to respond. "Move to the rear of…"

The she-cougar sprang and I was the dinner.

WELL FUCK ME!

My clipboard went first to the ground a second before I did with her on top of me. My mind reeled and I knew that had to protect my weapon. Covering it with my strong hand and feeling the urge to vomit, I could feel her hair slash at my face. She was lithe and agile and knew how to wrestle and the she- wildcat tried to pin me while attempting to bite me. I felt those teeth of hers on my neck for an instant and then I felt the wetness of her lips and tongue too. I had the weight and training, she had the advantage and speed, in this case we were evenly matched-Or so I thought.

Muthafuckingsonuvabitchintwoballbastard! I was cursing to myself.

Ya know something? Motorola makes a great prep radio. Those radios are built like a tank and it was that tank of a radio that damn near busted my left hip when I hit the ground; it was the wildcat that damn near busted my nuts. We fought in the night as the stars watched us and placed bets on the winner. I won the tussle on the ground but she won the overall arrest.

She'd put up a good fight; a very good fight. I've been in a lot of conflict's and had never got as down and dirty as that one went. That hard asphalt and the gritty sand-what little wind blew on it-were the least of my concerns. All I could do was hope that she didn't get a hold of my firearm and I fought hard to protect it and therefore save my own sorry life.
Somehow I managed to roll on top of her and pin her to her down on her stomach. From that point it was easy to place my knee into her back and cuff her, felony-prone treatment now for her all the way. I guess that tachy-physicia effect had been ongoing too. Time, Space and my body were not yet in my minds mental sync and didn't allow me the luxury of being attuned to the actual drama that had just occurred between her and I. I don't remember too much of exactly of the how that I was able to subdue her, all that I do know was that I did. The strange part of that whole apprehension was that neither of use actually spoke a single word. I had the cuffs on her and sat back on my ass to catch my breath.

In the blinding and incandescent array of my cruiser's lights and the color of the sky and the flow of the now passing breeze, I took stock of my condition. My trousers were ripped and my belt was in disarrangement from being shaken during the scuffle. My vest had ridden a small amount higher and I know that my left hip hurt like hell. My hair was a mess. My shoulders, back and arms were killing me and my groin felt like rotten scrambled eggs. Added to those minor injuries, I still felt that wave of nausea sloshing around and those chills were now to the point of shivers.
Oh? Did I add that I was sweating and the drops were pouring down my back, face and neck?
My neck! She fuckin' bit me! I'll be goddamned!

My neck--- It felt cold as I placed my hand to the area that her teeth, those teeth, had sunk into. It was slightly below my jawbone and further back. I wiped away the sweat and flung it off of my fingers to the pavement, looking at it as it started to clot on the blacktop.
Clot? Sweat? It wasn't sweat…It was blood. My blood.
I snapped my head and felt my neck begin to ache and become warm. I looked over at her lying next to me. Her cheek was pressed into the hard warm surface of the highway and she was smiling at me…Lewdly, smiling at me. She had my blood on her lips and my soul trapped into her eyes.

Now this is where I lose a lot of memory. Understand that the way that I was before, I was an expert in noticing all of the small stuff. You have to be in my profession because lives depend on it. Memory skills are learned from childhood and expand by aging and knowledge learned from life's events and from the others who impart what they know to you. Now though, now I am really very good at recalling the slightest details of minor and trivial things as I often overlooked, and I'm talking quantum sized, small details here.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking here too. You're thinking that I came close to losing the struggle and my life and was bleeding from a serious gash in my neck from that society minx's teeth and that I was afraid of dying out in the middle of Bum-Fuck Egypt, right? You're thinking that having come so damned close to a near-death experience, that I've reexamined my outlook on life in general and I'm paying greater attention to detail on the smaller things in my official capacity and routine, right?
Wrong. And you thought that you were pretty smart, huh?

Before I explain just how this newfound knowledge entered me, I have to get back to the point where you and I left off, okay? Well, for starters, I sat there looking into her eyes and lost myself in them I mean LOST, lost, like "never to be found." Out here in Arizona, Search and Rescue has a term for all of those weekend city dwellers and seasonal snowbirds that frequently become slightly miss oriented when they take day-trips into the desert. We call getting miss orientated two words; The first, if we find them quick, we say that they were "L.I.D.", meaning Lost in Desert. The other ones--- poor bastards---those who suffer from dehydration or even die from exposure, we refer to as "S.L.I.D.", Seriously Lost In Desert. Taking those slang acronyms and bending them into my situation as she reached into my mind and soul through my eyes, I was S.L.I.H. Yeah…you got it now?
I was Seriously Lost In Hell.

I sat there just locked into her eyes now; the teeth were not any concern to me any longer. She'd done only half of what she wanted to do to me though.
I kept hearing her voice in my head meshed alongside of what and mine memories I had of my life and that night. I remembered the feeling as I sat in my car, bored and uncomfortable, pissed off and feeling abandoned, alone, disliked, and not loved.
Her voice, that one in my head that had become dominate and it took away all of that. She pushed it out somehow; all of those echoes and webs of things that were hurtful and spiteful, miserable and just so goddamned awful in my life. She was soothing me, healing and kissing me in my mind with my blood fresh on her lips, and so help me God it felt good!
"Come, come and join me. I'll provide and protect you. I can make dreams become life and life becomes mere dream. Pleasure is here, love is here, and all you've ever desired is here. Come. Come with me. Come to me. You want to come to me because I am here."

I stood up and looked down upon her and she kept those eyes on me, craning her neck and her head as I threw my left leg over her prone body, straddling her and helping her up. I did it gently and with force at the same time, lifting her with both fear and respect. Then…
Then we were in front of her Trans-Am. She was still handcuffed and my mind asked her mind if she wanted to be released from them.
"Not to worry," her soft voice in my head spoke to me, "I like them, keep them on me for the time, for it's been ages since I've been in chains and I enjoy the feeling every once in a while."
That invisible voice of hers spoke so lovingly and with such a powerful and sensual conviction, all I could do was nod and comply. She willingly leaned over the hood of her car; its color matched my feeling and contrasted with the night and her hair as it fanned out on the still warm metal. Over the hushed purrs that she'd send into me, I could hear the ticking sounds that the engine gave off as it was contracting and cooling.

To me, it where as though a clock was ticking in real time and I could hear it from a far away distance as time passed slowly. It didn't matter much, I was to have all the time I need, she told me that as I thought it, and then I began to frisk her trim body.
"Mnnn, you do that so well," my hands started to press lightly around the tops of her shoulders. "I love feeling your hands roam my body. Go ahead, touch me more." They went to the outside of her shoulders, patting very lightly and rubbing in circles as I frisked her for… for…
Why? I asked myself.
"You're frisking me, for me."
Of course, my head told me. I was frisking her because she had asked me to

Still lower my fingers went, along the outside of her ribs and the entire surface of her back as she slid against the maroon colored hood. I moved into her closer and pressed my groin to her ass and she moaned again and spoke to me, relaxing what inhibitions and remaining fears of sexual harassment that I was rapidly forgetting about.
"More! Yes! I want this, don't be afraid, nothing will harm you. Just let your hands go… unshackle them from your will… touch me in places you've thought of touching other women. I'll never tell, and neither will you." She was still slithering around as my hand's administrated to her wishes. I wanted her in my head; I wanted her in my soul…

I wanted her.

We danced together her and I. We danced the dance of the Pleasure Damned and Forsaken. I pressed my hardness crudely into her undulating rear and felt her pushing herself back at me. Her hands, rudely cuffed by me at her slender wrists, were manipulating at my zipper as my hands became knowing the firmness of her breasts. Arching her ass upward to meet my hips and motions I was creating, her head sank lower down the slope of the hood. My knuckles became hot from the heat of being trapped between her globes and the engines dissipating heat. I was burning with dark lust and the smoldering of Sin---her Sin---it made my eyes close and then open to fan away the feelings that her body and mind were introducing me to. My hips pumped faster along her trim ass that lay behind her shorts and I couldn't even begin to feel the sheerness of them as I rubbed myself against her. All I could feel was her willingness to offer of herself as I stroked her with my aroused desire and hard on. I tore at her gyrating hips with my shaking hands, trying to still them and I felt the sharpness of each hipbone as I roughly drew her toward me.

I felt the wave starting to climb to crescendo of climactic release of my life's seed life building within my loins; threatening, cautioning, goading and taunting me to free it. I tried with the last portion of all that I knew was true and just to hold myself back. Her voice splashed over it as I heard her siren's song of the ancient and unholy kidnap of what she was about to pillage from me.
"Now! Spill yourself into my world and my darkness!" I fought another battle and had to admit bitter defeat to her strength.

"Yesss! Yesss!" The spittle from her hissing in my mind blinded my eyes to the Black Oath I was taking. I had to make her, give her, pleasure her…
"Take me my Dark Blue Knight! Ravish me as I demand! Ravish my body as I take your life!"
Her long and nailed fingers reached in and took hold of the salvation she needed. She held me in hand, and began rubbing me up and down as best as she could, all while she was grinding and thrusting her mound into the thin peak of the front of the cars hood. The moan and climax her mind forced on and into mine was roasted on a spit above a forge of molten earth and ash.
My eyes, once human, my breath once full and deep, each breath that was once free, were now blinded and scorched as I choked with that obsidian ash of fury that she erupted with as my final act of physical love was stolen from me and bastardized for eternity. I came and doused the need within her to possess. I ejaculated myself into her hands and my life was then hers as my body died pressed to her cold passion.

Her eyes were as fatal as her bite and those windows of doom looked at me with her chin buried into her shoulder. She was snarling and I could see the blood and her fangs.
She'd received the other half of what she drove the night for. She wanted me. She desired to possess me, just a human male for her arousal to birth into a God; a God somewhat lower on the pedestal of her kith and kiln.
She wanted a lover; a Dark Lover to ensnare unwilling playthings as they sat bleary eyed, fighting off highway hypnosis as they sped through this stretch of road in the Middle of Forgotten. She wanted to orgasm to the sound of a man pledging his undying love to her beauty and her wanton cravings as he died on top of her-screaming as he plunged into his own personal ecstasy of tormented Hell-her name on his burning lips as his soul was signed and deeded over to her for eternity.

Yes, she now had what she came for that one black desert night.

She had me. I was hers in a sense from the time that I was born. When I keyed my ignition that night and ran dark and in pursuit, I was chasing myself in a dream of unreal reality. What I have become now is my true self and that of the life I left behind was the dream. Allow me once again to take a look into your thoughts, for it's easier for me to know you in that intimate way. I know that you're thinking that since I was a man and she was a "woman," she hunted me down and lured me into her speed trap, yes?
No, no that is not the case. She has known women in the same way that she's known and created me, and I too have found the creating of the more masculine males at times, even more exciting than the females of your species.
Remember back into your mind when I started relating this evening to you? I told you not to bring this up at the department for they wouldn't believe this story? Would you believe that there are both male and female officers assigned the sectors of this city that would. They'd not only believe it; they'd be very jealous and envious of it and the way I've told it to you. I am special and they are not.
You see, I am the only one who knows her and who knows of her, if you catch my meaning?

And may I give you a word of freely given advice? Stay away from the West Side of town; for there are those of Us who patrol the alleyways and construction sites that flourish there.

I conduct my life and my job a bit different these nights. I don't worry to see if the tape in the VCR that records the images as seen from the in-car system is blank or has been recorded over. It doesn't really matter that much to me if it has or has not. I'm really lucky that I took that night's tape home to view it. I was the only one that appeared on it that dark desert night.
Oh, I can smile now in knowing what I know now, but even so, I found watching it the first time so very chilling and unbelievably erotic in its content. I sat there on my couch just before a new dawn and was frozen as I saw the TA's driver side door open and she never was captured on tape getting out of the car.

That was mild to say the least of what followed on the remaining footage. I'll let you draw your own mental movie yourself from the events that I've just related to you.

I've been disconnecting the plug in jack to the "One Eye No Lie" each night I start my shift anyway, and I'm satisfied in the ownership of my one and only private home movie. Just don't really try to think about what you see on the shelves under "Horror," in the video stores these days too much, okay?

Oh, I still patrol that gloomy highway; I still sit there at night, watching for the telltale sign of those blood red brake lamps to signal that they've seen me. I smile a lot these days finding the thrill in the chase and the detainment. For those of you who are unlucky enough not to notice me and make no attempt to slow down? Well, let's just say I don't hand out as many tickets or give as many breaks as I used to and let's leave it at that. I look forward to meeting you. Perhaps you may not return the pleasure, and if not, I understand.

Remember to buckle up and drive safe.

And as for speeding? Well now, that's your decision, isn't it?

Copyright© 1998, 1999, 2000 [JWS] All Rights Reserved.

JWS3 is a retired professional soldier and a former law enforcement officer who resides in Michigan. He is currently working on a novel which takes up much of his time. Well-versed in computers and being a four-fingered typist, JWS3 has too much time on his hands and can be reached at jcwest12@msn.com.

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