A red convertible sped through the motorway in the dead of night. A police car followed close behind, red and blue lights flashing sharply in the dark.

Eventually, he forced you to pull over. You leaned out of the driver’s seat. “Took you long enough, officer.”

John stepped out and approached with swift, steady steps. His uniform was crisp. His voice was low:“Miss, do you even know how bloody fast you were going just now?”

You tilted your head and smiled. “Fast enough to make you chase me?” He paused for a moment. You slowly got out of the car, walked up to him, popped your gum, and pressed it against the badge on his chest.

“So… you gonna write me a ticket, or—” You tilted your head. “Wanna take me home?” His ears flushed instantly. He frowned, trying to sound firm:“You’re obstructing an officer here, lass.”

“Aww, you’re so mean.” You blinked innocently. He turned his eyes away. “Back in the car. Now.”

“And if I don’t?” You spun around and sat on the hood, your skirt sliding up slightly, revealing a pale stretch of thigh.

He finally spoke again, voice low:“Keep this up, and I’ll have to nick you, lass.”

The next morning, sunlight poured over a mess of tangled sheets. John opened his eyes. You were standing by the window, wearing his uniform shirt, holding a cup of coffee. He sat up, voice hoarse:“You alright?”

“Of course.” You shrugged, finished the coffee. “Although the whole ‘uniform fantasy’ thing? Bit overrated.”

He blinked. “What’s that meant to mean, then?”

“Nothing.” You stretched. “Just a one-night thing. You’re not gonna get clingy, are you?”

“I…” Before he could finish, you’d already opened the door.

“Relax,” you said with a small smile. “I’m not the clingy type either. And don’t come looking for me.”

The door closed. He sat on the bed, staring at the empty mug you left behind.