Author's Note: It's been a while since I've posted a story. I don't know if I'm ever going to finish the last chapter of my other series since I've yet to figure out a satisfying way to write it to completion. This story is a little short but let me know if you enjoyed it and would want to see this story continued.
*****
Tyla sighed, her breath visible as the cool October air infiltrated her police cruiser through the lowered window. It was rather nippy, but her uniform was heavy, and the cold breeze helped her stay focused and alert on the long night shifts. At least this was the last one of the week, and then she'd have a weekend, hopefully free of stress.
She was responding to a call from a local store that she hadn't heard of before. The dispatcher had told her that some Russian-sounding guy was yelling that the store had just been robbed, and the suspect was a young white male. No facial hair with a buzz cut. Black pants and a black hoodie, but white shoes.
She barely braked to swerve around the empty street corner, running the red light and blazing down the next street alongside Emery Park. She thought she saw dark figure a few hundred feet up ahead. She turned on her lights and siren and accelerated.
She turned on a dime as she approached the figure, cutting his path off through the park parking lot. The man who was almost certainly the suspect she was looking for was illuminated by the flashing blue and red lights. The man appeared to suddenly panic and freeze up. Barely taking time to park the cruiser, Tyla threw the door open and leaped towards the perp, who was carrying a suspiciously full-looking bag.
"Ah shit!" the man yelled. He turned and began speeding away towards the trees.
"Don't run damn it!" she grunted as she began to pursue him. "Just pisses me off."
The perp made it maybe twenty feet before the crap he had stolen caused him to trip over a branch in the dark. The bag went flying a few feet ahead and landed on the ground, but luckily it didn't sound like anything had broken. Tyla rolled her eyes at the groaning man and walked over to the bag. She frowned as she looked at the bizarre objects inside.
"Did you rob a dollar store or something?" she asked in disbelief.
"I plead the fourth," the man said, crawling forward to the bag.
"Riiiight," she said with a huffy sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, I'm bringing you in. Stop touching the stuff."
She went to peel his hands away from the bag of stolen goods. He was grabbing the first thing at the top of the bag, a metal disk of some sort. The struggle resulted in the beautiful silver pocket watch being shoved into her face.
"Woah..." she whispered, suddenly feeling soft. Her grip went slack, and the man suddenly fell backwards since he was still pulling with most of his strength.
"Ugh," he grunted, rubbing his neck. "Can I at least have this one? It looks cool," he said with a cocky air. Tyla said nothing and continued staring at the pocket watch for a few seconds. The punk stood up and pat his pants to try to get the dirt off. "Officer?" he asked again. He cocked his head to the side and looked curiously at her, as if he thought this was some sort of trick.
Tyla tried to move but couldn't stop staring at the beautiful instrument of time keeping.
"Girl, are you tripping out?" he asked.
"No..." she said with a dreamy moan, unable to tear her eyes away.
"Woooaah... Quack like a duck."
"Quackquackquackquackquack!"
"Stop! Holy shit! Okay, didn't realize this was some magic shit. So, um... If this works, then you're going to forget the last minute and..."
***
Tyla blinked her eyes. Did she black out for a second? The young man was standing nearby. She had caught the perp, right. Her legs felt a little bit cool in the night air, inviting a shiver.
"Ugh, fine, you caught me ma'am," said the thief. He did look fairly young. Perhaps he was in his late twenties. "I'm glad I got caught by such a cute officer! And I really like your panties. Why aren't you wearing pants though?" He adopted a shit-eating grin.
Tyla turned red with anger. She looked down at herself. Below the top of her uniform, she was wearing black panties, her dark stockings, and shoes as normal.
"Female officers don't wear pants," she growled. "Don't make this worse for yourself kid."
"I'm older than you!" he spluttered in bewilderment. "Ow ow ow ow!"
She yanked him off the ground by the wrist and grabbed the bag of stolen goods with her free hand.
"Wait, you left your pants!" he said, half laughing, and half moaning in pain as she pulled him hard
She looked back and saw a pair of dark blue pants resting peacefully on the grass.
"Those aren't mine, so they're not my business," she said, her frustration growing ever greater the more she interacted with this hoodlum.
"Hahahaha okay ma'am. I'll grab them up to help you out and such. Stop tugging so hard."
Tyla relaxed her grip but guided him over to the car and tossed the bag and pants in the front passenger seat.
"Okay, place your hands on the top of the car so I can check you for weapons or other stolen goods."
"Fine. But please be gentle ma'am," he said cockily with a wink.
Tyla made a noise of disgust but kept her temper in check. There had been too much news of police brutality in the last few years. No reason to give the media another chance to rip into the local police because of her. Even though this one surely deserved a bit of brutalizing.
She started at his chest and worked her way down. She found a wallet and keys in one pocket and checked his ID. Devin Jackson apparently. Age 28. In the other pocket, she reached in and felt something cold and metal.
"Is this something from the store?" she said in her best don't-fuck-with-me-because-I-can-be-a-scary-bitch voice.
