Status: Complete!
Like it Was Before
The intro which is short
I met Shane Walsh by going 65 miles per hour in a 45 miles per hour zone.
It was one AM, I was on my way home from seeing a late
movie (alone-how sad is that?), and I hadn't been paying attention to what I was doing.
In my defense, no one else was on the road.
But then, all at once, I hit what appeared to be a speed trap.
Well, fuck.
I was upset with myself for being so careless until I saw him.
Then careless was the least of my worries, somewhere far behind my appearance, the
sloppy ponytail my hair had been piled into, the utter lack of makeup.
He was cute-more than cute, and I was in yoga pants.
Bedazzled yoga pants, but still.
If he asked me to leave the vehicle I would die on the spot,
which says a lot for the way he filled out that uniform.
Thankfully, I was not asked to leave the car, or issued a ticket, much to my delight.
He let me off with a warning even though he probably shouldn't have and I slipped him my number on a piece of scrap paper, blushing and amazed at my chutzpah, hoping like hell that he wouldn't take this as harassment or as a bribe and arrest me.
To my absolute horror, he unfolded the paper while still leaned over my window,
which was when I realized it was an old insurance card containing every last bit of my information.
I was mentally berating myself for being so forward-he probably had a girlfriend, or worse, a wife-when he looked back up and smiled at me for the first time, showcasing that classic heart-stopping grin of his before patting the top of my car.
"Savannah, huh?" I liked the way he said my name. "You drive safely now."
He was walking away by the time I had gathered my wits around me and was re-buckling
my seat belt. "Yes, sir, officer."
I call softly through my half-open window making his stride falter just the slightest bit, something I wouldn't have even noticed had I not been looking for it but alas, he didn't stop.
So I headed home well under the speed limit and spent the next three days waiting for Officer Walsh of King County to call.
It was one AM, I was on my way home from seeing a late
movie (alone-how sad is that?), and I hadn't been paying attention to what I was doing.
In my defense, no one else was on the road.
But then, all at once, I hit what appeared to be a speed trap.
Well, fuck.
I was upset with myself for being so careless until I saw him.
Then careless was the least of my worries, somewhere far behind my appearance, the
sloppy ponytail my hair had been piled into, the utter lack of makeup.
He was cute-more than cute, and I was in yoga pants.
Bedazzled yoga pants, but still.
If he asked me to leave the vehicle I would die on the spot,
which says a lot for the way he filled out that uniform.
Thankfully, I was not asked to leave the car, or issued a ticket, much to my delight.
He let me off with a warning even though he probably shouldn't have and I slipped him my number on a piece of scrap paper, blushing and amazed at my chutzpah, hoping like hell that he wouldn't take this as harassment or as a bribe and arrest me.
To my absolute horror, he unfolded the paper while still leaned over my window,
which was when I realized it was an old insurance card containing every last bit of my information.
I was mentally berating myself for being so forward-he probably had a girlfriend, or worse, a wife-when he looked back up and smiled at me for the first time, showcasing that classic heart-stopping grin of his before patting the top of my car.
"Savannah, huh?" I liked the way he said my name. "You drive safely now."
He was walking away by the time I had gathered my wits around me and was re-buckling
my seat belt. "Yes, sir, officer."
I call softly through my half-open window making his stride falter just the slightest bit, something I wouldn't have even noticed had I not been looking for it but alas, he didn't stop.
So I headed home well under the speed limit and spent the next three days waiting for Officer Walsh of King County to call.