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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Special Circumstances - 3. Drastic Measures

Sergeant Ward was stressed. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I’ve heard you, but if I think that there’s an operational need, I’ll make my crewing decisions based on that.”

“I just thought that I had outlined my predicament.”

She sighed heavily and was visibly annoyed. “Jamie, I’ve got half the shift calling in sick, three cell watches, two court papers due tomorrow, and you’ll probably be the only unit available. So, if Mike turns up here tonight, he’ll be your crewmate. Please act like a professional and get your hormones under control.”

“Yes, ma'am.” I left the sergeants office. How rude.

Of course, as Nam wasn’t enough of a punishment from the universe, Mike did turn up for this quick swing shift that would move the pattern from daily to nightly. Full kit, big smile on his face, greeting the few of the shift who had assembled in the briefing room, he sat down at the edge of the room.

“We won’t be any more than this,” I said, “No need to sit at the benches. Join at the table.”

He took the seat, a big grin on his beautiful face. Sod controlling my hormones with him sitting opposite, smiling at me! Briefing was quickly over, Mike and I were indeed going to be the very one and only unit available to respond to any incidents in our area.

Sergeant Ward made it clear that we would only respond to Immediate Response graded incidents and paperwork could wait. Something like this didn’t happen often. I dreaded sitting in the car with Mike for the whole shift having nothing to do but to talk while waiting for an emergency that might never happen.

The others were filing out of the room.

Mike beamed at me. “Hi, Leon.”

“Hi, can’t you get enough?”

“Never! Being a Special is the best past-time ever. Especially when working with you.”

Luckily, I never blushed. My dick twitched, but I ignored his innocent comment. “Well, we’ll see how the evening develops. It might be very boring, because we aren’t allowed to do anything but wait for an immediate.”

We walked from the briefing room to the Traka cabinet. I got the keys for the newest car we had. Who wouldn’t take advantage? We went downstairs to the car park, and I had Mike check that the car was fit for duty.

“What are you doing?” Mike asked when I was attaching a gimble in the front window.

“That’s for my camera. I record my blue-light runs. Don’t tell anyone, we’re not supposed to do that.”

“Then why do you?”

While mounting the camera, I explained. “To learn and to reflect. I’ve posted some textbook-like good ones and some where I’ve made some serious errors of judgment. There’s no action. I actually go through and edit it with decision descriptions and my impressions at the time.”

“Link, please!” He demanded, taking out his phone.

I sent him a link to my channel with the ten videos I had put up.

He quickly scanned them and said, “I’ll post the link on the Special’s Group.”

“Oh, no, you won’t.”

“Oh, yes, I will.” He smiled at me and started typing.

“What are you posting?” I went over to look at his phone.

He showed me the post he was going to publish. ‘Check out these blue-light runs from my favourite regular’, and said, “I’m really lucky to be crewed with you for the third time in a row.”

My stomach churned. He look at me with his sapphire blue eyes. I needed to say something now. “And we’re only going to take immediates.”

“Yeah.”

I felt he wanted to say more, but as if by heavenly intervention, Control spoke up, “Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray, please proceed to an immediate burglary in progress, Alwin Close 16, Rushwood Green.”

Without me prompting, Mike had started looking up the address. There was my sapphire!

“Zero-Five,” I replied.

“Caller is an 86-year old female who has seen three IC-4 males trying to open her back garden tool shed. Upon challenging them, they became aggressive and insulting towards her. She fled back into the house. Males still present at scene.”

“Copied.”

I raised my voice to be heard over the siren. “Not an area we go to often. I can get us to Rushwood Green from memory, but you need to tell me how to get to Alwin Road.”

“Sure, I got it. It’s off High Street,” Mike replied.

He studied the map further. “I hadn’t realised. We’ve got three villages, and they all have a High Street and a Church Road.”

“Don’t forget Old Road and New Road,” I said, passing cars on nearside and a central reservation on the off-side using short wail. The oncoming traffic had stopped for me.

“Heavens, how could I forget? The planning department must’ve gotten lost between Bramblewood Road, Bramblewood Street, Bramblewood Lane, and Bramblewood Close.”

I laughed out loud. “Don’t do that to me, Mike. I need to concentrate here.”

It took us over twelve minutes to get there. It was rush hour, and the traffic had been dense. We were updated that the males had left the garden in the meantime, but I’d refused downgrading the approach. For the caller’s benefit and, secretly, for my own.

I stopped in front of the address. “Let’s see whether you’re good with elderly ladies. You’re talking.”

He got out and talked to the caller. I turned the car around and lowered my window to overhear the conversation. In my opinion, he made a dashing good impression showing empathy and professionalism. In addition, he was very attractive. I caught myself staring and had to look away. His taking the males’ descriptions was cut short, though.

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

“Go ahead,” I replied.

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, please proceed to an immediate fight in progress. The Lion Inn in Gatwick Road reports a fight between three IC-1 males. One is a patron at the pub, the two others have entered, pulled the victim out and are now in the process of assaulting him.”

“Show us Zero-Five. Any chance for backup?”

Mike had heard us being called again and had apologized to the old lady. He quickly joined me in the car.

“Backup would be nice,” he said and impressed me again. He wasn’t trying to be a hero.

“I’ll do my best,” the Controller replied while I started driving.

Mike checked the map. “That couldn’t be farther away.”

“Yeah, I know. Have you been in a fight before?”

“Only as backup with many other units.”

“That’s fine. Don’t worry.” I tried to give him confidence that I didn’t feel. “The main point here is to protect us and everybody else from injury. Maybe the siren will drive them away. Whatever happens, we’ll try to protect ourselves first and foremost. If they run, don’t pursue. Let them run. Clear?”

“Yes.”

I needed to boost his confidence. “Now, you know a lot. Explain to me, why do I let them run?”

He thought before he answered, “If they run, one of us has to stay with the victim.”

“Yes.”

“The pursuer would be alone.”

“Yes.”

“Our bodycams will catch images, the pub has most likely CCTV, so the risk of not being able to identify them versus the risk of them ganging up on the pursuing officer is too great.”

Gosh, he was good. “Excellent!”

All this talking had me slightly distracted. I took a roundabout too sharply, causing screeching tyres. “Shit. Sorry. That’s a fail on the driving course.”

In preparation for the fight, he took his can of pepper spray from his utility belt and shook it to stir the mixture up. “Captor ready.”

“Good, you know your stuff. I don’t need to tell you.”

He chuckled. ”You’re great, mate. Are you a mentoring officer?”

“Nope. I’m too overbearing, constantly criticizing, and putting people on the spot.”

“I don’t think so. I’m learning a lot from you.”

“Well, when I had a stint at mentoring that was the feedback I got. I had two mentees who were both gobsmackingly bad. You know more about policing than those two combined. Well, they didn’t like me calling them out. They complained, and I was out of mentoring.”

The drive was taxing. Having a conversation while driving on blue lights was too distracting.

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

“Go ahead,” Mike responded.

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, I’ve found some backup for you. ARV-Three is making at best speed.”

“Copied,” he replied and turned to me. “ARV means Armed Response Vehicle, right?”

“Yes, the cavalry is coming.” I instantly felt better. “The guys with the big guns.”

When we arrived at the scene, the three men were nowhere to be found. I’d expected that. The pub’s bartender couldn’t tell us where they’d gone, nor could he give any useful descriptions. The pub’s CCTV could only be retrieved by the owner. Yeah, sure. A quick area search yielded no results. A free run, no paperwork.

I headed back towards the center of our area.

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

Mike looked at me in disbelief and responded, “One-Three-One, Go ahead.”

“One-Three-One, I have another immediate for you.”

No way! “You must be kidding me.”

“Go ahead,” Mike replied over radio.

“The elderly caller you visited earlier,” the controller said, “She reports the three youths are back.”

I grimaced because of the long drive, turning on the blue lights and the siren.

Mike was so cute as he grimaced at me and replied, “Zero-Five.”

I loved blue-light runs. Every copper did. But over half an hour of long and short wail and white noise got on everybody’s nerves. Worse, I needed to concentrate a lot, anticipating all idiot moves that other drivers and pedestrians might make. This was more difficult in the dark. Mike was quiet, too. I was grateful for that.

Of course, when we arrived, the youths had already disappeared. The old lady was afraid and didn’t want us to leave. But what could I do? Sit outside? I arranged for a PCSO visit the next day, but then bade her goodbye and headed back into town.

“Leon?”

“Yes?”

“Is Thursday evening always like that here? In my previous station, when a Special was allowed to go out with a response shift, we’d be lucky to have one immediate for the whole shift.”

“How boring. But no, this is exceptional. You’re doing very well. I’ll let the others know.”

“I know you chaps talk a lot. Police stations are rumor mills par excellence.”

“Well, put characters whose job it is to rummage in the deepest secrets of other people, mostly deserved let me add, into one building, and everybody knows better what you are up to than you do yourself.” I asked in mock shock, “Are you calling me a gossip or what?”

Before Mike could reply, he was rescued by Control. “Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

Before Mike was able to, I answered, “No, nobody home.” Of course, this was violation of airwave protocols.

I heard the controller chuckle. “ANPR camera activation on High Street, Rushwood Green. Details when you are ready.”

I nodded to Mike, while I again activated blue lights and siren and turned around to go back where we’d just come from, bracing myself for the headache I was about to have.

“Go ahead,” Mike said and took notes.

“Suspect vehicle, a blue Vauxhall van, index X-Ray Nine-Four-Zero Kilo Alpha Foxtrot, involved in three burglaries and one robbery. Stop check and identify occupants.”

“Copied. What an old banger.”

When we arrived back at the High Street, we couldn’t find any blue van, Vauxhall or not. We drove around the area. Our quick area search yielded no results. Mike reported that in, and we were left alone.

“I need coke,” I stated resolutely. “Yes, I admit, I’m a coke addict.”

Mike looked at me aghast.

“I need at least one can a shift. Pure, full fat. Not that Zero or Diet stuff.”

He laughed.

I stopped at the next service station and got myself my habitual can of cold coke. When I came back to the car, Mike was eating a self-made sandwich.

“Wow, that looks impressive. Did your mom make that?” I teased.

“No, I did. That was a quick make. I’d baked some bread yesterday, so I just needed to slice some tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil. Some salt and pepper, done.”

What an effort. “You baked bread yesterday? And all that slicing and stuff? Wow.”

“It’s easier than you make it sound. I can show you. I’m a chef.”

I hadn’t thought this thin bloke to work in a kitchen. “A real chef? I’m a total loser in the kitchen. I wonder whether I’ve even any sharp knives there.”

“And what do you eat?”

I smiled broadly. “I’m able to fix a stir-fry, but I eat whatever chefs prepare for me. So, mostly it’s some form of ready made food.”

“Food? Don’t insult food by calling ready meals food! How do you keep in such good shape?”

“I do martial arts, run a lot, and go to the gym. I also do sport pistol shooting. What exactly depends on shift patterns and whether the dojo is open or not.”

“And you don’t listen to your trainers about how important proper nutrition is?”

He had a point. “Well, apart from Coke, I usually drink protein shakes which come with the necessary vitamins and minerals.”

“What kind of martial arts?”

“Krav Maga and Kendo. I’m lucky that my trainer is an ex public order guy. We’re nearly all coppers in his class, and he teaches with the differences to police training in mind.”

“That is lucky.”

“No, expensive.” I smiled.

“I do Kendo, too,” he said meekly, “Love it.”

“No way!” Why did this guy become more attractive by the minute?

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

I couldn’t believe we were getting another call. “You gotta be kidding me!”

“Go ahead,” Mike radioed.

“One-Three-One, I’m almost sorry to send you on immediate to Enfield Main Street for a reported flat fire. Fire services request police attendance for dealing with the traffic.”

I looked at Mike and smiled while turning on the siren and blue lights. “That’ll be a good one. Get you out of this car to do something. You’ve been far too lazy this shift.”

“Zero-Five,” he confirmed and said jokingly, “Me lazy? Me? I’m doing all the work here. Talking to people, talking to Control, navigating for you, entertaining you. And you? You’re just sitting there and driving around making noise.”

I changed to short wail to take the third exit at a small roundabout, and said without thinking, “You don’t know how many nerves this costs me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Shit! I shouldn’t have said that! “Hey, nothing to be sorry about!”

I managed as I overtook two cars. I couldn’t deal with this right now. Without him knowing that I had the hots for him and that this closeness let me lose my marbles, what I said had sounded as if he was bad company.

I apologised, “I’m sorry, you cheeky monkey. I didn’t take it the wrong way.”

He was quiet the rest of the drive nonetheless.

The fire had turned out to be a hoax. The fire crew commander let his frustrations out on me, getting into quite a rant about anti-social behaviour, youths, and police. When the fire crews drove off, we went back to the car.

Mike said, “Man, you have patience.”

“It just seems like it.” After we both had closed the doors, I had a rant of my own. “Bloody fuckwits, the Great British public. I sometimes wonder whether all that anger that I swallow just aggregates in my stomach. Sports is one outlet, but sometimes there’s just too much.”

Mike looked at me with concern. “That’s awful. You need a shoulder to lean on.”

That was it. Fuck controlling my hormones! I exploded. “Mike, I’m really sorry, but I can’t work with you anymore! I can’t stand that you’re an excellent crewmate, real fun to be around with, and bloody good-looking. I’m sorry if that insults your heterosexuality, but I’m finding you extremely attractive, and I’ve had enough of suffering being here next to you.”

Mike turned to me and grabbed my stab vest by the shoulder. He pulled me closer and next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. Time seemed to stand still. Forgotten was the fact that we were in a marked police car. In the middle of Enfield High Street. With blue lights flashing.

When our lips finally parted, he said, “Nam said that you wouldn’t get it.”

“What?”

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

“Last night after shift. After you’d left, I met Nam when he went home. We talked a lot. Mostly about you and that I really like you. He told me to message you so late last night.”

“That’s how you knew about character statements!”

“Golf-Hotel One-Three-One, Sierra X-ray.”

Can they ever shut up? I radioed, “Standby!”

“Yes. He helped me with what to write.”

“That little devil!”

I looked at Mike. I didn’t know what I felt. Longing? Disbelief? Relief? All of that?

“Don’t you want to know where they send us next?” Mike asked innocently, bringing me back to reality.

He was right. “Sierra X-ray, Golf-Hotel One-Three-One. Go ahead.”

“One-Three-One, please make your way to Wightfield Elementary School for an immediate burglary in progress. Redfield Close in Bushey Green. Caller is the security company which is motoring an entry alarm. Several different sensors confirmed.”

Mike had started searching for the address on the navigation system. I quickly stared at him, still in disbelief of what had just happened.

I turned on the siren and started to drive. “Zero-Five. Back to school!”

Ten minutes of mostly long wail later, I had a headache thanks to the siren and the stroboscopic blue lights in the darkness.

“Can you still see something?” Mike asked. “I’m blue blinded.”

I killed the lights and siren.

“Thanks.” Mike sounded relieved. “Silent approach. I hadn’t thought that I’d ever be happy about it. When I write about this shift in the Special’s Group, they won’t believe me. Five immediate responses, all without any paperwork. They also won’t believe that I kissed my crewmate.”

“You aren’t going to write about that, are you?” I spun toward him, mouth agape.

“Of course not! As I wrote before, those in the know enjoy and remain silent.”

I suddenly felt very unsure. I had to ask, “You aren’t messing with me here, are you?”

“Jamie,” he said and waited so I had to look at him quickly, “I really like you. I want to get to know you better.” He chuckled, “You just make it pretty difficult. Nam said that I’d need to be drastic. He was right. You didn’t get any of my hints. What else could I’ve done to make you understand?”

I needed to think about that. Why had I not seen it? The approach made me postpone pondering the question.

“There’s the school.” I parked the car so that it blocked the road.

We got out, all was quiet as expected.

“Never been here before,” I said and looked around. “This neighborhood is one of the quietest in our area. Seems a nice school.”

We walked onto the school premises and checked that the doors were secure. We walked around all buildings and found neither broken glass nor any open doors. We didn’t hear anything and didn’t see any torch lights in the buildings.

A bad feeling crept up my spine. “Are we in the right place?”

“My phone GPS says so.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

I turned around and by chance, the light from my torch reflected on something in a building’s entrance hall. I patted Mike on the shoulder to turn around and look at where my light shone. A big white cat was sitting inside the building in front of the glass entrance door, looking at us.

“Sierra X-ray, Golf-Hotel One-Three-One,” I radioed.

“Go ahead.”

“No signs of forced entry. We walked around all the buildings, confirmed doors are locked and no windows are broken. So far.”

I waited for the Controller to process that information. They actually typed a protocol into the incident log.

“So far,” she responded, indicating for me to continue.

“We’ve found a white Persian cat that’s locked in building four. I assume that it triggered the motion sensors.”

“A cat burglar,” the controller said, “I suppose that concludes investigations. We will update the security company.”

I couldn’t help but sigh. The job was over. The shift too. Mike appeared so beautiful to me that I couldn’t keep my feelings inside. “I want to kiss you right now, but that would be unprofessional.”

“Even at night, in the dark, in the middle of nowhere?”

“Stop teasing. They’ll have CCTV here.”

“Yeah.” Mike pointed at a camera.

I grinned at him while we walked back to the car. We started our way back to the station.

“Want to know something funny?” I glanced over at Mike.

“Hm?”

“My camera for blue-light runs. I hadn’t turned it off after we got out at the hoax fire. It recorded all the way.”

“And? Points outside.”

“There’s a second camera pointed at me. For the inlays.”

He laughed out loud. “That’s evidence. I want a copy.”

“Maybe. Food first. I’m hungry. Can you point-to-point Nam and ask whether he’d be up for anything?”

Mike talked to Nam, but because the conversation was now only on his earpiece, I only heard Mike’s side of it.

“Hi, Mike here. Leon asks about food … Sure. Mama Lau? … Yes … I don’t know … Yes … Always!”

Mike turned to me. “He’ll be relieved from cell watch soon. We’re to bring Chinese. Mama Lau. He said you knew what he wanted.”

I nodded. “And what else?”

“Nothing else.”

“Mike, I know Nam inside out. What else did he say?”

“He asked whether I had to be drastic which I confirmed. He asked whether we were dating which we haven’t spoken about, so I didn’t know. He asked whether I’ll ask you out on a date which I confirmed. And then he told me that I must look after you or he’d come and kick me.”

“Yes, that’s Nam.” I sighed at the thought of the two gossiping about me. “Wait, what?”

“What?”

“You want to ask me out?”

“Yes.” Mike looked at me; his eyes told me that he was serious. “Constable Jamie Artois, will you go on a date with me?”

I was still driving, but could not resist looking over. “You aren’t kidding me, right?”

“No. Why don’t you just believe me?”

“Experience,” I muttered. “Look, Mike, I’m bad news. I’ve had four relationships, and none of them worked out. The only common denominator there is me.”

“Nam said one other thing.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re daft. Say yes.”

“Mike,” I began.

“What do you want me to do? I’d fall on my knees now, but we’re in a blooming car!”

“You’d do that for me?

“Instantly.”

That made me smile. “How can I resist, Special Constable Michael Lane? Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“You don’t know how happy I am right now.”

“Yeah,” I said, “Me, too.” I felt relieved.

We got the take-away. The proprietor of the shop, referred to in police circles only as Mama Lau, was moody as always. We headed back to the station where we had to wait only a short while for Nam to join us in the cafeteria area. He ignored the bags with the food on the table. He beelined directly for me and gave me a hug. He then proceeded to Mike to do the same.

“What brought that on?” I asked.

“I’m happy for you. Let’s eat.” He turned to Mike and said, “So what did you have to do to get this daft knob to see the light?”

“Hey! I’m sitting right here.”

He deliberately ignored me, and Mike told him about our first kiss.

“No way! In a marked panda on Enfield High Street? Kudos, mate, kudos. Leon, you’ve got a killer here. You know that had ‘complaint’ written all over, don’t you?”

“It was right in that moment,” Mike said, blushing.

“Imagine someone had filmed you.”

“I did. Dashcam.”

“I’ll see this footage!”

“Never.”

“I’m the editor, Leon.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “You’re editing Leon’s blue-light run videos?”

“Yes. As good as he is as a police officer, he’s too daft for a computer. He describes what he wants, and I do it.”

I looked at each of them. “Oi! I’m sitting right here, chaps!”

After our dinner, I went to lock away my Taser and changed into my motorcycle gear. Mike would be waiting downstairs, and Nam promised me to leave us alone. I hastened to lock away the Captor can downstairs and left the station.

Mike was waiting for me. He looked up from his phone and said. “You look good in that.”

“Thanks, it’s designed to enhance manly features.” I smirked. “Let’s get out of CCTV coverage.”

I led him to the little park a couple of dozen meters away from the station. There was ample lighting, but it was empty this late weekday evening. We walked down a path when suddenly I turned towards Mike. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and leaned forward to kiss him. It was a long and wonderful kiss. I got hard instantly, nicely concealed by my heavy gear.

“That was nice,” Mike said, “More.”

I kissed him again. It was a wonderful feeling, sensual, loving. I lost myself in his arms.

“Nice indeed,” I said and just hugged him. How I’ve missed being held. “What now?”

“I need to organise a date,” Mike whispered into my ear.

We discussed my shift and his restaurant work times and agreed to meet tomorrow afternoon at three at the restaurant where he worked. We were still holding each other.

“I think we should go home now,” I said.

“Yes, we should. It’s just that I really like having you that close. I’d thought about that since I first saw you.”

“Yeah, same here,” I sighed and put my head on his shoulder. “Mike?”

“Hm?”

“Please, don’t toy with me.”

“I’m not toying with you, Jamie! What kind of arse would I be if I did that, especially after knowing your Leon story?”

“I don’t think you’re an arse. But you have a nice one,” I said to lighten the mood.

He giggled. “Where do you have your eyes, officer?”

“On someone handsome,” I replied and let go of him. “We better leave now. See you tomorrow. I’m looking forward to our date!”

I was happy and excited driving back home. I had a shower where my normal desires were multiplied with the memories of kissing Mike, and I released intensely. Later, lying in bed, I messaged Nam that Mike and I’d be on a date tomorrow afternoon. According to his reply, he was as excited about it as I was. I then texted my good night wishes to Mike and tried to get some peace. It took me a while to finally find sleep. This had been quite a day.

I slept through till ten. I was well rested, but the thought of my date with Mike today made me fidgety. I decided to drive to the dojo and work in the gym. Getting properly exhausted usually worked wonders for me.

I had about an hour to spare to select something to wear. I stood in front of my small cupboard in nothing but briefs and despaired.

I heard my flatmate come home and shouted for her, “Becs!”

On my salary, I couldn’t really afford living on my own in or around London. Luckily, I’d found an excellent flatmate who worked as paramedic for the National Health Service and therefore understood the issues that arose when working in the services. Coming from her NHS work shift, she was still in her green paramedic gear. She came to my room instantly. “What’s wrong, Jamie?”

“Help me! I need to choose clothes for an important date.”

She laughed. “That sounds so girly!”

“Don’t care. I’m happy with my feminine side. Help!”

“I’ve only known you for six months, mate, but you’re so not you at the moment. Must be, quote, important, unquote.”

“Rebecca!”

She sighed. “The answer to the question of what to wear to a date with a man is simple.”

“And?” I asked when she didn’t come forth with the answer.

“You must highlight your assets, cutie-pie, and the best way to show off your nice six-pack is to wear nothing.”

Over her laughter I said, “Don’t take the piss. I really need some help here.”

“Okay, okay,” she said and rummaged through my cupboard. Checking my stuff, she said, “Jamie, your membership in the gay club needs to be revoked. You have absolutely no sense of fashion.”

“That’s a cliché.” Luckily, I never blushed. “To be honest, I left the clothes that my ex bought for me behind. Although they did look good.”

“Sweetie, we’ve spoken about that. Forget everything related to that prick.”

She took out a pair of trousers and checked two shirts against it. She decided on one and said, “This combo will look nice. Try it.”

I put on her selection and found it to be very good. Well, better than what I would’ve selected for sure.

I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Becs.”

“Good luck. I’ll expect you to tell me how it went.”

This was a quite accurate retelling of my first duty after a transfer. Well, I didn’t kiss my crewmate, but finding the cat burglar was much more difficult than described. For an hour we ran around checking every school building twice for signs of entry, and we were unable to detect any. Only by luck, my crewmate’s torch was reflected in the cat’s eyes.
To get an idea about Response Driving in the UK, have a look at this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-pawVtnZjew
Copyright © 2024 lawfulneutralmage; All Rights Reserved.
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A very special thank you to my editor @Mikiesboy and beta reader @CassieQ. Their support and advice has been invaluable.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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