I pushed the handcuffed man's head down onto the hood of his car. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an lawyer. If you do not have one, one will be appointed to you. You-"
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" said the perp.
I rolled my eyes as I brought him up. My name is Ellie Carlyle and I'm a thirty-year old police officer in New York City. I had just pulled this guy over for both erratic driving and having the tags on his plate expired. After running his ID through the system it turned out he was wanted for domestic abuse. So I'd cuffed him and we, me and my partner, were bringing him him. He was slow in moving, like he was daring us to toss him in the back of the cruiser.
"You're already fucked," said my partner, a tall man named Joey Robertson. "Don't make us add resisting arrest to your existing charges." That seemed to get the perp's attention and he made no further attempts to resist. We got back in the car and signaled that we were heading back to the police precinct. After returning, booking the perp, and placing him in lockup, Joey and I went to fill out the rest of the paperwork. "The last fifteen minutes of our patrol and we bag this guy," said Joey now.
"Never a dull moment," I said.
"What made you want to go after him?"
"Besides the expired stickers? He had that shifty looked. Plus he swung around that corner way too wide. I thought he might be drunk."
Joey nodded and signed his parts. "Not bad Carlyle. You make a lot of cash." he said to me. I laughed. That was our joke. That I was pure cash for the station since our station had seen an increase in fines and collars for what may be deemed lesser offenses since I joined. Am I a stickler for the rules? Maybe. Only at work though. A cop doesn't have much of a social life so if you live your life to those strict standards, whatever friends you would have beyond coworkers would dry up. We parted and went to the changing rooms. I wasn't working the night shift this week, thank fuck. Nights in NYC are no joke. The City That Never Sleeps isn't just a tourist marketing method. It's true. And nighttime makes the wackos get even wackier.
In the changing room I took off my uniform. I undid my natural fiery red hair and let it fall. Well, it's not all natural. I am a natural redhead but it tends more towards Carrot Top ginger than deeper red. After enduring Carrot Top jokes all for all my childhood and teens, I wound up dying my hair deeper red as soon as my mother had allowed it. I went for the red that Scarlet Johansson had during the early Marvel movies. It was amazing, as many have said to me. Putting my civilian clothes back on now, I glanced at a small mirror I carried everywhere. I'm five-foot seven so I've been called statuesque. My eyes are an emerald green that is typical for natural redheads. Besides being a tall, pale redhead, my other most prominent feature are my boobs. I have genuine natural DD's. I developed early to the point where I outclassed all my friends in school before I was sixteen. Like my hair, I was made fun of for having them in the beginning, but I know it was out of jealousy. I was a tall long haired natural redhead (small colorization aside) with big tits, bright green eyes, and a statuesque figure. It inspired jealousy and insecurity among my friends.
I'm not Irish either, despite everyone assuming so. I'd always wanted to be a cop since I was little girl. I honestly can't remember when I decided to become a cop but as long as I can remember, being a cop was everything I wanted. I took any police courses I could through career day type options and work programs. I went to college and studied pre-law as well. Now I was a cop and had been one for three years. I'd made it through my 'rookie' phase and nobody called me that except my old instructor.
One thing I was was athletic. Being a cop wasn't the only option for a career that I had been presented in in my life. During middle and high school I played soccer and ran track and field. So I was fast. I could have played soccer in college. I'd seriously considered taking it because professional sports players make bank. But fate prevented my imagined sports career. I slipped on an icy porch during a New Year's Eve party and destroyed my left knee. It needed surgery and rehab to repair That was the end of whatever soccer dreams I may have considered. While I still ran and trained to run athletically, I had never returned to soccer. The way I see it is that the destroyed knee, however painful, had been a blessing because I loved being a cop, despite all the difficulties with it during the modern age.
Finally dressed for civilian life I closed my locker. Another cop, a girl named Jenny, said to me "it's not fair, you know."
"The thankless job we do?" I asked.
Jenny laughed. None of us thought our job was thankless. That was another joke we all liked. For everyone who may have bashed the police departments of the world, there were a hundred more who thanked us for what we did. "No," Jenny said, getting dressed for her shift. She was halfway changed. "How you walk in here and look like a supermodel after working a shift all day."
I laughed again. Jenny was plenty hot herself, currently clad in her underwear and a tank top and bra. Pert, slim, brown haired and brown eyed, she was a nice looking girl. "Trust me, it causes as much aggravation as it does joy," I said, taking a moment to check Jenny out.
Yes, I like girls. I'm bisexual and have been since I was a teenager. Oh, the stereotypes. Former athlete turned police officer. It's like someone branded me to be a lesbian. But I'm not fully lesbian, I love dick just as much as pussy. But the latter was harder to get than the former. Being a tall, hot, big titted redhead, I had no trouble attractive the attention from men when I sought such. As Jenny finished dressing I averted my gaze. When I'd joined the force, I told myself there would be no fraternization between me and any of my coworkers, male or female. Despite what every police procedural drama on TV will tell you, such things are more trouble than they are worth. I looked plenty at the girls who appealed to me physically but I made sure to never be caught looked or make anyone uncomfortable. I don't want to cause any of the other girls, all of whom are completely straight, to feel uncomfortable around me. In fact, none of the women knew I swung both ways. I didn't want to be teased. While nobody was mean about it, cops loved to tease about such things. And I was already a target because of my height, red hair, and big boobs. I wasn't going to add being 'the hot lesbo' to the list of things the guys and girls tease about when they need to blow off steam. "Good luck tonight Jenny," I said.
"Thanks Ellie," she said back to me, now fully dressed. I left out the back door. Joey was waiting for me. Joey had been my partner for the last year. He had been a cop for two years longer than me. He was brown haired, blue eyed, fit and not much taller than me, barely cropping six feet. We got along well. He was only my second partner after my veteran-rookie days. I was going to miss him when we got split up. Our boss liked to split up as patrol units every six to twelve months to promote everybody learning to work together. Which I respected.
"Want to get a drink, Ellie?" he asked me.
I was tempted. But even though we went to the usual cop bars, I wasn't interested in being hit on tonight by drunks. And that almost always happened. So I shook my head. "Sorry Joey. I'm headed home. I have a bad feeling Grover is going to assign me the night shift when the new schedules come out in a few weeks because I haven't had night shifts in a while. And Grover likes to make sure everyone has to do their share of the tough jobs."
Joey nodded. Grover was our sergeant and in charge of this precinct. He did shift everyone around to ensure everyone got a fair shake on both the easy and hard shifts. And my turn to do nights was coming up. So I bid Joey farewell and went home. I lived in one of the many high rise apartments in the city. I didn't have my own car. I took a taxi home every night. For obvious reasons, I never had trouble getting a taxi cab either. I went home and walked up the stairs. I lived high up, though not at the top. I never took the elevator. I always walked, part of my athletic back round and not wanting to lose my figure because I had a love of BBQ and pizza. So I made time to work out as well as being a cop, especially when I was on cruiser patrol. When I walked a beat it was easier. But walking a beat in the winter, which is what season it currently is, absolutely sucked. So I was happy to be in a warm car.
Finally getting to my floor I went to my apartment and going for my keys. At that moment, the across the hall opened and one of it's occupants came out. A pretty young blond girl named Danielle, who was one of three college students renting this apartment while they went to college here in the city. At not-yet twenty Danielle was average height for a woman, clad in jeans and a T shirt, putting a coat on. Noticing me she smiled. "Officer," she said to me.
"Up late?" I asked.
"Study session. College is more than just parties."
"I remember that well," I said.
"I have to go down and collect the pizza we ordered. If we come get it, the tip's not usually so bad," Danielle waved at me then left. I found myself looking at her jeans clad ass as she went. She was a good neighbor, never had any loud parties or anything. Nor did I see her drunk ever. Though since her immediate neighbor was a cop, she probably had the sense to keep that stuff away from Ellie. Danielle was studying to be an architect in college, so she wasn't some brainless blonde girl on a scholarship to be a cheerleader. She was a good girl.
